#DBD Clown x Reader

[slashingdisneypasta]

Think about facepaint spread all over your inner thighs.

Yes this is a clownfucker (very) friendly post.

[rabbitblackx]

Hello! Is it okay to request DBD's The Clown with a naive, fem reader? If so, would you be willing to write about her being given a cute clown costume that matches his during the Halloween event? Please and thank you ♥️

Hey! Sure thing! I’ve never actually written for the clown before, but I hope u enjoy it anyway! :)💖💖

Clown with a Fem!Naive!Reader wearing a clown costume

As soon as the Clown’s lifeless eyes laid on you, you were instantly his obsession. He laughed with glee, finding you absolutely delicious. You had never gone against him before, as you were quite new to the Entity’s realm. Being as naive and sweet as you were, you instantly ran over to him

“Hey, Mr Clown! Look at me. I’m just like you!” You beamed, throwing your arms up way above your head

A raspy chuckle of delight shook the Clown’s shoulders. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt you, instead amusing you with a reply. He was a clown, after all. It was kinda his job

“You look excellent, little birdie! My, and such nice fingers!”

You had no idea what that meant. But, oh, well! He was being nice, right? That was all that mattered

“Wow, thanks! They get the job done.” You shrugged playfully

The Clown was infatuated. He thought that you were so funny. And more shockingly, he thought those pretty little fingers of yours should actually stay on those pretty little hands

You were bashful and giddy, following after him like a lost puppy. He’d catch you mimicking things he did, and mirroring his slackened expressions

The Clown longed to see what you looked like under all that makeup

You laughed together endlessly, with you being completely oblivious to your terrified fellow survivors

After the trial, he took you back to his realm (whether the Entity liked it or not). He showed you his horse Maurice, smiling like an idiot at the way you cooed and petted his messy mane

The Clown wanted to keep you forever. He liked the way you never questioned anything. You seemingly ignored all the suspicious bottles that lined the wall of his trailer. You also didn’t even bat an eye at the rotten fingers he kept on a keyring at his hip. Speaking of, he often took your hand gently in his, inspecting your fingers and nails. You always just blushed and giggled

Your favourite thing to do was prance around his realm, laughing and playing together. You both blended in perfectly with the circus scene, with matching clown costumes and everything

The Clown always laughed at your jokes and gestures. Like when you would pop your head through a photo stand-in, poking your tongue out or winking at him

During the Halloween season, every time you had a trial together, you skipped up to him and twirled to show off your clown costume

“Hey, Mr Clown! Still look like ya!”

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

DBD The Clown| Jeffrey Hawk masterlist

Dating a afab small and curvy survivor headcanons

[5eraphim]

dbd killers w/ somnophilia

Characters: The Clown, The Shape, The Mastermind, The Deathslinger, The Doctor

Rating: M

Content Warnings: Somnophilia, dubcon, toxic relationship dynamics

Word Count: 1.3k

(song inspo)

The Clown

He is a dirty, dirty, dirty old man. The clown is easily one of the most perverted killers in the game. Somnophilia is just another kink among his long list of perversions. Likely even one of his personal favorites.

He loves to drug you with whatever heavy sedative he can concoct, something he knows you have no hope of actually resisting. Kenneth firmly believes the weak must fear the strong, even if it's not a fair fight. This is another way to control you and keep you under his command. The instant gratification here is immensely appealing.

Loves the feeling of using his own body weight to pin you down, especially if he can feel the way you try to fight back while still weakened and encumbered by sleep, totally oblivious to the gravity of the situation. Additionally, he loves to tie your hands down while he takes advantage of you like this, thinking about how terrified you'll be when you eventually wake up.

When you are awake, he reminds you of how he sees your sleeping body as "free to use." Your body is nothing more than a commodity to him or a vessel he can use for his own pleasure and gratification. To Kenneth, your free will, mind, and intellect are all second value to your body and the satisfaction you can bring him.

The Shape

This more direct perverted side started as a by-product of his fondness for watching you sleep. Slowly over time, growing more and more emboldened around your sleeping body. Always wanting to see how close, how he could touch, how he could manage to provoke you before you stirred or awoke. Though more often than not, Michael is sly enough to know how to have his fun without you waking up suspecting a thing.

Loves to leave kisses all over your body while you sleep, which turn into bruises and bitemarks when you awaken, especially on areas like your lower stomach or thighs. Likes to get as close as possible to the sensitive area between your legs, watching how they tremble and twitch in your sleep while you are oblivious to what is happening.

Michael is far more attracted to the dominance of the act and the helplessness on your end. Rather than the transgressive nature in and of itself.

The Mastermind

Orgasm alarm clock extraordinaire. As one of the most prominent doms in the game, Albert prefers subs to be obedient and well-behaved rather than bratty. Thus, Albert is drawn to the appeal of taking you when you have no choice but to follow his lead and are at his mercy.

He likes to choke you out while you're asleep, even though it almost always results in you waking up immediately. The power he feels in the moment, no matter how brief it may be, is unparalleled.

Albert loves to record you and take pictures of you in your sleep. Sometimes it's when your clothes are already torn off your body, or after you're in a compromising position or something lewd like that, but not always. There's something about how you look so unaware and corruptible that Albert can't get enough of! Of course, these photos are strictly for his eyes only, though he would certainly consider using these as leverage to keep you under his command. And if you ever were dumb enough to try and cheat on him or try to leave him, Albert would leak them in a heartbeat.

(In the Resident Evil games) Albert is used to working late into the night and returning home when you've fallen asleep hours beforehand. It was only a matter of time before he realized your effect on him while unconscious. If you really loved him, surely you wouldn't see anything wrong with him using you to relieve a little stress and tension after a long day, right?

The Artist

Carmina is not the type to wait until you've fallen asleep at all! Instead, she lives for the thrill of toying with you while you're on the edge of sleeping and awakening. Especially into the way, you look so vulnerable like this! How you can be so extra-sensitive to her touch and how she plays with your body, white looking so at peace and beautiful, is breathtaking.

Will be sure to tell you how beautiful your moans sound while you're still half-asleep. Carmina generally prefers partners who are a bit more vocal, so she's sure to treasure every sound you make like this.

Genuinely thinks it's super romantic when you fall asleep in her arms, with her fingers inside you.

Loves to leave long scratches along your back and torso while you're asleep for you to discover on your own the following day. Carmina is always so gentle and cautious around you when you're awake. It's moments like this that help her to alleviate a bit of light-hearted aggression and sadism.

Carmina almost always can satisfy herself using your body without rousing you from sleep. Still, if she were to slip us and accidentally awaken you, she'd be able to lull you back to sleep very quickly. Even in moments of high passion like this, Carmina can almost always maintain at least some level of self-control, keeping you calm and helping you fall back asleep without frightening you.

The Death Slinger

Unlike everyone else, Caleb prefers to take you when both of you are tired rather than when he's wide awake and you're not. Also, he prefers something a bit more low-key with you, like grinding or deep kissing, rather than full intercourse.

If he could keep you like this forever, he would. He despises the way life has been so cold and cruel to him, and having something soft and warm in his bed to return home is more than enough to satisfy his jaded loneliness. Because of this, Caleb finds himself more interested in cuddling your sleeping body, holding you close to his, while he knows you won't try to leave or move away than actually fucking you.

If he were feeling a bit more adventurous, he might consider binding your arms together or to the bed just to see how you'd look, motionless and ensnared like fresh prey. You looked like the perfect prey before your hunter.

Loves whenever you nod off while the two of you are spooning. Caleb loves to start off soft and gentle, only to slowly become more frenzied and heated. Seeing how much more he can get away with while you become less and less able to stop him.

The Doctor

There's this excellent post by @mara-xx217​ who suggests Herman would have a medical insertion fetish. Given the sheer magnitude of his sadism, it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine someone like him taking advantage of you while you're out to do something like that to your body.

He is only slightly less into somnophilia than the others because he generally prefers to torment you while you're awake, and he can really appreciate your reactions. Because of this, he may try to concoct something that would give you nightmares while you're in a deep sleep. He knows he won't be able to fully watch and savor your fear, but even though it's less fun for him, Herman knows that won't make it any less of a hell for you to go through.

When he can, Herman prefers to use injectables or gasses to try and get you to fall asleep the fastest. Rather than some of the others who would rather watch you fall asleep slowly or wouldn't try anything unless they knew you'd been out for some time now. Herman is too addicted to control and power to wait for you to be the one to drift off on your own.

Herman loves how powerful and intelligent he feels looming over your poor, dumb sleeping body. It makes him feel as though he has the power of a God while you can do nothing but sit back and watch.

[diejager]

Joyce, can we have headcanons regarding that sicko bastard known as Jeffrey Hawk aka The Clown? I ADORED that thing u said about him having a dad bod ❤️❤️

*Hands you an ordinary Ultra Ball as a gift*

Oddballer, you’re asking a lot from me, aren’t ya?? That man is just so big and filthy that I’m sure he smells.

The Clown NSFW Headcanon

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, drinking, blood, gore, amputation, clown stuff, manhandling, gas/hazing??, tell me if I missed any.

Once a young and athletic kid, building his body to fit a certain way to help him ease through all the hard labour he did, now it his under a warm layer of fat, thick and heavy, bulging over his belt and breast round and soft. He might’ve had some difficulty to run, ambling or striding across the fields with a slow and taunting skip to his step, menacing while he hit the cork of his bottles and shook his special concoction. It made him all the more terrifying, slow and comfortable in his walk, strategic and strangely familiar with every type of hunt, ears keenly aware of the screams and pants of survivors, hungry for the dopamine those pained sounds gave him —especially yours. 

His special bird, the first he’d every wanted to keep, locked away from the other killers and survivors alike, chained to his carney’s caravan by the ankle, bloody and filthy just to his liking. It brought back memories, favourable ones, his first successful hunt, catching a little robin in his hand, the soft and pretty red plumage picked and broken, but you weren’t something he wanted broken.

He liked the fire in your eyes, the fearful and spiteful glare you sent him when he cornered you in the chosen realm, snarling at him like a feral creature. While he hated doing unnecessary work, abhorred the thought of you losing the flare in your being, taming such a wild cat was rewarding by itself. If he could tame you enough to be able to hold and touch you without too much fight, but keep your temper, it was a win-win in his mind. There was nothing more he hated than a husk, a shell of a broken man to keep as a pet. 

He took brave and foolish alike, young or old, nothing was off the table for him, all he needed was the true part of them, a finger to remember his exploits and victory, throwing away the part he deemed trash —fake. He could smell it from their bodies and figured that the hands - fingers - were the truth, a part that showed the person’s life, deeming it a satisfactory boon for him conquest, but you, all parts of you sang a different story to good ol’ Jeffrey Hawk. A true treasure to keep intact. 

While he would love to keep you to himself, a little bird that would sing to him every day with snapping teeth and kicking feet, he wasn’t as favoured by her as other killers were, almost forgotten to his dirty little corner of the forest in his bloodied and smelly caravan, fingers littering every flat surface and beer bottles stacked or rolling across the floor. If he had such a favour, he would keep you in a comfortable corner, placed over a sullied mattress with blankets stacked over it, keeping you warm while he dressed you in his shirts, all browned and smelling of metallic blood and his musk. 

It was thick and heady, mixing with a scent of alcohol and iron, age-old sweat and dirt. You’d complained about his stink, gagging and choking on the many times he cornered you, pressing himself against you to feel and smell you under his grasp. Nose buried in your hair and arms pulling you to his front, your back arching by the neck against the solid mass of his stomach, soft and pudgy if it wasn’t for his rough clothes scratching your tender skin.

It brought tears to your eyes. Be it from the stench of him and his intoxicating tonics, or his wandering hands, slipping under your shirt until it rode up, removing a piece of protection from his hungry eyes, he loved watching you cry. Call it a recreational hazard from his job, tears and wails were just a part of his duty under The Entity’s guidance, but he simply adored your pretty tears, pearly things rolling down your cheeks and your cute sobs filling his lecherous ears.

You don’t know how much it affected him, the pout when you bit your lower lip in frustration while you struggled against him, the squirming that riled him when he had you in his arms, and your spitfire-like tongue, hurling every insults under the sun at him. It stirred something deep in his guts, a dark pleasure bubbling from his loins, fattening the growing hardness between his leg. He easily got worked up by you, the solitude of his lifestyle and the starvation for any kind of touch led his to drool and hunger for it. 

Your skin against his, soft and beautiful, bending easily under his kneading hands, his rough and bloodied glove as forced you on his lap, seated still to let him lap and suck at your small fingers. His tongue curling around your index, thick and lithe, and suckled in his warm and wet mouth while his tongue felt around, drool running down your wrist. He lost himself in these moments, aroused out of his mind and huffing hot breath against your disgusted face.

He liked your reaction —he liked any reaction you gifted him. He savoured each and every one, your gleeful ones, your sorrowful ones, your frustrated one, and your painful ones. He drank it all up like the drugs and alcohol he found pleasure in, gorging on you like an addict would. You were his new addiction, his new drug and dependence. And he hungered.

[vikkirosko]

Hello. Can I ask Clown, Trickster (if you're writing about those two) and Deathslinger with hyperactive S/O?

Headcanons Hyperactive

🌼 Clown x Reader 🪶

You caught Kenneth's attention during the trials. He planned to just walk up to you while you were trying to fix the generator and attack you, but he stopped when he saw how you were distracted from fixing it every time there was a rustle, crows cawing or something else. Because of this, you were constantly making mistakes while fixing the generator. It even started to seem funny to him. He didn't know the reason why you were acting like that, but he was interested in watching you

When you started chatting, he found out that the reason for your behavior was that you were hyperactive. It was difficult for you to focus on completing tasks and sometimes it seemed that you were distracted even during conversations. Kenneth liked to watch how quickly you switched your attention, but he wouldn't let you near his bottles, not knowing what might happen

When you were on the same trials, he was watching you. He laughed at you, seeing how you were distracted once again. Your comrades took advantage of the fact that he was easier to spot when you were around, but that didn't mean he was going to spare them. He was the only one who made allowances for you, giving you a head start so that you could run away a little

Clown enjoyed spending time with you. For the first time in a long time in his life, there was a person who was next to him, who stopped being afraid of him and who he really liked. He wasn't going to miss his chance when finally, in this strange world among the fog, he found the person he wanted to be with

🏜 Deathslinger x Reader 🔧

When Caleb first saw you, he was surprised. You tried your best to fix the generator, but every time you were distracted by some rustle or the screams of your comrades in the distance. Because of this, you made mistakes and got injured. When you got closer, you told him that the reason for this was your hyperactivity

You often kept him company at Glenvale. When you didn't have to run away from anyone and fix generators, it was much calmer there and if you close your eyes to some things, it was even beautiful there. You were sitting next to Caleb when he was calibrating his weapon or wandering around the saloon, studying what was interesting there. You often asked Cable different questions to find out more about this place. Caleb loved watching you quickly shift your attention from one thing to another

Deathslinger couldn't help you during trials. He saw how hard you tried, but he understood that if he helped you, it would only make it harder for you to live, because the survivors would be sure that you were a traitor. Therefore, all he could do was deliberately let you escape, as if that was the way it was supposed to be and he had no hidden reasons

Caleb enjoyed spending time with you. He hadn't been this close to anyone in a long time. He understood that you would not be together forever, because this world was so unpredictable. That's why Caleb spent time with you while he could. Your hyperactivity was a sweet part of you, and even when you were distracted, he knew you weren't doing it on purpose

🎶 Trickster x Reader 🎤

Ji-Woon has always liked the attention of others. He reveled in the attention of his fans, which was quite a lot, but when you appeared in his life, he found a new source of attention that he wanted to get. He liked it when you listened to what he was saying, when you looked at him. But when your hyperactivity made itself felt, Ji-Woon felt annoyed. He didn't like it when something else caught your attention

Because of your hyperactivity, it was difficult for you to survive during trials, but Trickster always gave in to you a little, pretending not to notice you, while you tried your best to focus on fixing the generator, but you were distracted and made mistakes because of it. However, when you were alone, he liked it when your attention was focused on him. That's why when your attention turned to something else, he made sure that you only looked at him

When he was sure that you weren't listening to him, he would sit you down next to you and look you in the eye, whispering something to you in Korean. You didn't know Korean, so you didn't understand what he was saying, but your attention returned to him, which made him smile contentedly. Ji-Woon liked how cute you blushed when he got your attention

Trickster liked to get the attention of others, and especially yours. Your hyperactivity wasn't a problem for him, because he knew how to get your attention back. At other times, your hyperactivity even seemed nice to him. He liked watching you get distracted from what you were doing over and over again

[deadbydangit]

Can you do one of The Doctor, The Clown and The Knight comforting you through an anxiety attack? Been struggling with PTSD a lot lately

I'm so sorry to hear that. I've been going through some lately as well. I hope this helps. Please enjoy.

Comforting a Reader who is having a panic attack: Clown, Doctor, Knight

Clown

At first he'll be a little annoyed.

"What are you belly aching about?"

"What? You aren't dying.*

He doesn't really understand the concept of a panic attack.

The whole concept of mental health is something that's foreign to him.

The way he grew up it was something that was never discussed.

Even though it was something that really should have been.

So you'll have to explain what is happening and why.

He'll still be a little confused, but he'll listen.

He isn't too great at calming people down.

He's the one who spreads the fear, not lessens it.

But, Kenneth is a clown!

Sort of.

Well, not a good one, but he tries.

And laughter is the best medicine, right?

So, he'll pull out his bag of tricks to make you laugh.

He isn't funny.

His balloon animals suck.

And all of his magic tricks involved severed fingers.

Not exactly great things for calming down a panic attack.

You'll have to teach him the things that work for you.

Because despite his rough exterior, he really hates seeing you like that.

And, not being able to do anything for you, it hurts him even more.

So, give the guy a break. He's really trying his best.

And it's only something he would do for you.

Doctor

Herman is very observant.

He knows instantly when you're acting differently.

He may be a quack, but he's a brilliant man.

Not only does he know a lot about the human body, he knows a lot about the human mind.

So, yes, he knows exactly what's going on.

He'll rattle off the exact scientific and psychological reason for a panic attack.

While you're in the middle of one.

That isn't helping.

But he's not too great at caring for others.

Sure, he might know some techniques to help with a panic attack.

But he's never helped someone through their panic attacks before.

He's another one you'll have to sit down and explain how to help.

However, as stated before, Herman is a smart man.

He learns things quickly.

Everything you tell him he'll take down detailed notes.

He wants to know what makes you tick. What makes you anxious.

All of this so he knows what to avoid in the future. And what to do if this should arise again.

He'll set up an entire room full of comfort objects for you while you're having a panic attack.

And he'll be there the entire time.

If you want him gone, he'll respect that.

But he does have hidden cameras in that room to monitor you.

It's for your safety. Nothing weird about it.

He's usually in the business of harming others.

Only for you will he be caring.

Knight

Out of all three, Tarhos ia arguably the worst.

That isn't to say that he doesn't love you.

He truly does.

He too has dealt with immense trauma.

However, he's dealt with it differently.

So he doesn't understand why you're panicking over something.

At first, he might even tell you to knock it off.

"Why are you acting like a pathetic child?"

It's going to take several other people to knock some sense into him.

He doesn't really understand that not everyone deals with things like he does.

With swords and violence.

Some people prefer to talk about their feelings.

Tarhos is not one of them.

However, only for you, he'd be willing to learn.

He's also really bad about comforting others.

If you're feeling really bad, he might pat your head.

Maybe even give you a small hug.

But that's probably all you're going to get for now.

He is, however, very good at listening.

Occasionally, he'll give decent advice.

It really depends on the subject.

"So there is a person causing your anguish? I see. I will help you get rid of the nuisance. They will no longer cause you issues."

Most of the time, the solutions to his problems include violence.

It's going to take him some time to warm up to the whole affection and comforting thing.

But, he wouldn't do it for anyone else. Only you, because you mean that much to him.

[daughterofyeshuaa]

DBD request coming up! Wesker, Clown, Cenobite amd Onryo with killer S/O, that kills their victims by poisoning them? Usually Reader just injects poison, but if they're in mood, they'll play russian roulette with victim. And yes, Reader is immune to poisons, unlike victims.

Hellloooo! This one is interesting. Enjoy! Sorry if these were short and bad, I just don't know how to write these characters :( except for Wesker of course :3

Albert Wesker

Is actually kinda impressed?

One day, he saw you poisoning a survivor, grinning almost sadistically

The survivor coughed in pain as you forced the poison down they're throat

Outside of trials, he approached you

"How come you poison your victims?"

"It's simple, it's what I do best" you grin

He'd ask questions about your methods

"Oh this?" you started "this is a little game called Russian roulette"

Overall, he's impressed with your tactics and methods of killing survivors.

Jeffrey Hawk

Omgosh twinzies??

He's actually intrigued

He'd question your methods and learn from them

Outside of trials, he approached you

"How do you poison your victims?"

"Rat poison" you smiled.

"No I meant the method" he replied and coughed

"ohh right, I use bottles, similar to you, when I'm in the mood however, I like to play Russian roulette" you smiled seemingly Innocently.

"Russian roulette, huh?"

"Yep!"

To say the least, he wants to learn from you

Cenobite

What

Your powers are completely different, however he's not used to poisoning

Bro's lowkey interested

Like the others, he will question you since he's interested

"What's this all about?"

"Oh this? Just my treasures" you grinned, pointing at your bottles of poison and your gun.

Sadako

Unimpressed

Maybe a little scared

You would try to rub your tactics off on her, being used to attention but she'd decline

Eventually, after pestering her for long she gave in

You told her all about your tactics and how you played Russian roulette with the other survivors

You even made her watch

[mundoperla]

HEYYYY IF U WANNA REQUEST SOMETHING HERES A QUICK RUNDOWN💃

𝙂𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 & 𝙃𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧 𝙁𝙞𝙡𝙢𝙨 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧:

Ｇａｍｅｓ：

Resident Evil (all games + damnation/vendetta)

Dead by Daylight

Silent Hill

Ｈｏｒｒｏｒ Ｆｉｌｍｓ：

Friday the 13th

The Collector

Black Christmas

House of Wax

House of 1000 Corpses

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974 & 2003-2006)

My Bloody Valentine

Terrifier

Hellraiser (1987)

Halloween (all movies)

The Boy

Scream (1996)

Things I will write:

SFW, NSFW, dub-con, fluff, headcanons

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

Things I will not write:

non-con, p*dophilia, inc*st, none of that problematic shit here bru

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♡ enjoy your visit! ♡

or not idk i cant stop u

[kittycatlukey]

NEW DEAD BY DAYLIGHT CODE—

Code: DBD7

Reward: 400k Bloodpoints

Available from May 19, 2023 – ?

@alewesker ❤️

[gothghostiie]

Respectfully, I'm gonna need some headcanons about Wesker getting fucked.

Think about him bent over, his face buried into the ground, sunglasses barely hanging on. His lips would be so pink and swollen, coated in his spit as you fuck him. Okay sorry getting carried away 😀

-🤡

Respectfully, y e s

prefers topping but does bottom occasionally

and when he does,,, oh boy

he likes it either way too gentle or super rough. no in between

hes a slut. he will put his hips up for you

loves the feeling of your fingers digging into his hips

whining.

will curse at you (wants you to fuck him so hard he cant curse anymore)

gets more and more incoherent the better he feels

drooling all over the floor

face pressed down and eyes rolling back

I'm begging you. pull his hair from behind

"Who's a good slut?"

"..."

stop moving and ask him again

receive a panicked babble of " 'm sorry" "me" "dont stop"

refuses to have his cock stroked while getting fucked especially when getting fucked from behind

cries when he cums <3

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: They're under the control of something, or someone, else and directed to try and kill you- until you break them free from the hold.

Includes: The Clown / Jeffrey Hawk / Kenneth Chase, The Huntress / Anna, Freddy Krueger, Laughing Jack, Offenderman, Peter Hale, Peter Hayes, and Scott (Total Drama).

Warnings: Mind control, non con drugging (Jeffrey), violence, angst. And, then, fluff! ^^

The Clown / Jeffrey Hawk / Kenneth Chase:

Controlled by- The Entity.

The moment you hit Cronus Penn Asylum and you saw the look in Jeffry's eyes, you know something terrible has happened. Something is missing in them. All of the... Jeffrey, really. There's no amusement nor dreadful glee, there, at seeing you. Something you've become accustomed to, and actually made you feel... comfortable- weird as that sounds.

But right now you do not feel comfortable. Especially as he starts descending upon you.

Nervous, you take a few tiny, cautious steps back as he moves towards you. You raise an eyebrow. "Jeffrey... ? Are you okay?... "

He doesn't say a word, but you watch his hand disappear into his coat pocket, and take out a bottle.

You start to walk faster, backwards. "Jeffrey what's that? Jeffrey, why wont talk?" He still doesn't answer and just keeps coming closer. Your hearts starting to beat unnaturally fast in your chest, and you're legitimately scared; Face pale and your legs demanding you to run. Far and fast, until you cant see him anymore. "Jeff!"

And then he rears his arm back, ready to throw it at the ground near your feet, and you turn around and make your run for it; Sprinting across the ground to escape the fumes that crash and fill the air behind you- taking the air that you breath.

You fail; And the drug is fast acting, stealing your energy and making it hard to breath- soon you're on the ground, struggling to breath in proper lungful's of air, on your hands and knees, just trying to stay moving. Even if its just an inch at a time. But you can feel him on your heels, eyes licking up the back of your legs and your back, before he drops to his knees - not groaning in pain or coughing at all, - , and uses a big meaty hand to drag you over onto your backside.

You're now laying on the ground, just trying to concentrate on taking long, slow breaths and not the butterfly knife nearing your chest. "Jeff... " You whine, squeezing your eyes closed. Its hard to speak, as its hard to breath, but there's nothing else you can try; So you force the sounds out. "Why... are you... doing... this... ah... "

"Kenneth is not here." Finally, your clown responds. But this not his voice. This is unfamiliar- yet when you crack an eye open, eyebrows furrowed in pain and confusion, its still Jeffrey's face looking blankly back at you. Gone is the drunken slur that's become tantamount to Jeffrey's identity, along with the wheeze that comes with his breezing and the pleased lilt to his tones. This is emotionless and informational. "This is the Entity. And I've been made exceedingly displeased by your dalliances with each other... " Your eyelids squeeze shut again, forehead wrinkling severely and lips parted as to take in as much oxygen as possible, as you struggle against the drugs Jeffrey is so good, at stirring. And you fight to fully understand the words coming out of Jeffrey's mouth, but that are certainly not his. "Killers are not supposed to bring joy... even degenerate, perverted joy as you are taking from him, Y/N... Let this be a lesson to you both."

The knife comes down towards your chest then, but you manage to block it from breaking your skin with a weak hand- the drug evidently weakening your muscles, too, -. "No... Jeffrey... please." You didn't even realise you were weeping, until salty, dirty tears slip down to your lips and you taste the flavour of you horror. A sob tears through you. "Please, don't do... do this... "

You cant even struggle against him, fight for your dignity. No, you can only lay there and sob ugly tears like a child, moaning his name like its yours. Like he belongs to you and you just want your thing, back. You want desperately for the Entity to let him go. Jeffrey's not much, but you would really like for him to come back to you- and to give you the cure to this awful drug.

Hands weakly find the lapels of his jacket, as you slowly writhe on the ground. The Entity - or Jeffrey? - watches you suffer, eyes half lidded. "There's no point to begging. His consciousness can do nothing, right now."

"Let him... let him go... " You don't know wen your pleas started to become for him, rather then for you, but suddenly that's all you want.

"You should worry about yourself." The Entity responds, a bored tone to his voice.

"I... " Another sob wracks your body, before you gasp for air because that cry took all of it out of you, and panic for a second because you cannot breath- "I cant!... "

"You should worry about yourself!" You Entity snaps again, and you cant see him for your eyes being closed but through your pain and your struggling, a tangible haze surrounding and coating everything inside you like tar, you detect a lining of anger now.

But how could you possibly make this worse by defying him?

"Just let him... " Breathing in deeply, even as your airways feel half closed, you feel your gums ache. "go, let him... get out... " Get out of him. Leave him alone. Let him be. Put him back-

Suddenly, you feel familiar weight, that you hadn't quite realised was far less then it should be as the Entity in Jeffrey's body held you down, rest against you. Fingers brush some of your hair back, soothingly, and slimy grease-paint covered lips press a comfortingly gentle kiss to your cheek. You know he left a mark of grease paint behind, too. "You should worry about yourself... Y/N... "

You know you would gasp if you were in any state to do so, and your eyes flutter slightly open- only a crack, only a bit, to see Jeffrey.

Really, Jeffrey this time. His eyebrows are furrowed in a half-concerned expression as fat fingers run through your hair, tracing your skin. "Jeff... Jeffrey?"

"Don't talk. Sorry love, but this particular drug'll only wear off on its own. Nasty, huh? Just breath, okay? Wouldn't wantcha passin' out, not after all those lovely things you said for me, at least." The last bit is slightly teasing, but there is still a definite umbrella of soft, gentle concern as he talks quiet, and slow- forcing himself to swallow back his coughs as to not do it near your face. He's also holding himself off your chest, to make it easier for you. "Just keep on breathin', nugget... Keep doin' that for me, okay? That's all I need. You're off the hook for Christmas presents forever if you do this for me, okay? Okay... "

The sound of his voice, as horrible and scratchy as it is, lulls you into a state of calm. Breathing becomes slightly easier, now that you aren't fighting with the very little strength you have in the moment , and your muscles relax.

The Huntress / Anna:

Controlled by- The Entity.

The broad axe that very fucking nearly hit its target - being your head, - a moment ago is what had you realising that maybe Anna is just not feeling herself today, and causes you decision to hide.

As you strategically cower in a brush and peel your ears for any sounds of Anna - which is hard, seeing as she's a hunter, - , your mind races with possibilities of why she's acting this way. She hasn't tried to lodge an axe into your skull for what you think has possibly been years. She likes you. She pets your head and strokes your hair and brings you dead birds as presents.

And you've liked her liking you- and not only because you experience situations like this one, far less frequently.

"Oh Y/N... You cannot escape me. I will find you. You've endangered the integrity of my games... and you must be punished."

Your eyes practically bulge out of your head, hearing those words. Fingers dig into the dirt on either side of your for purchase as you fight not shiver, because those words were so fricken freaky, and give away your position. Surely, that is not Anna!

Suddenly the familiar axe flies into the air, and sticks swiftly into the bark of a tree behind you- just above your head, and your seize up, freezing. You figure, she found you.

As your turning tail and attempting to make a quick escape, crawling out from under the bushes, a hand latches onto your heels and drags you across the ground back wards. You shriek, rolling over and trying frantically to kick her off, scraping your other foot against her hand to get it off but its no use and she has you underneath her soon enough. Still, your heart's hammering in your chest and and you fight to push her off you with your knee but she easily wrangles you down and sits herself on your thighs- the axe now slamming deep into the dirt by your head; The threat effectively stopping your movements.

Breathing hard, but slowly, you carefully turn your head from the weapon and up to Anna's face- and see her smirking.

... for as long as you've known her, Anna has never smirked. It shocks you dumb for a moment. "... Anna-"

"The Huntress is occupied." These words send a chill down your spine, just like before, and you fight not to shake under the dark gaze that seems to prickle and penetrate. Whoever's speaking through Anna tilts her head down at you. "Anna... as you feel so comfortable calling her... is dealing with her own penalty right now. This is the Entity. And your relationship with each other has arisen an issue, for me... Its just not entertaining anymore."

The Entity.

The Entity.

The Entity.

The words keep repeating in your head, and you honestly have to fight not disbelieve, these words. The idea is crazy. The Entity, is mad? The Entity kidnapped you all - killers and survivors alike, - to have you all try to kill eachother like a psychopathic 12 year old Hunger Games fangirl and its mad!?

You give a good fight, kicking your legs suddenly and trying with all your might to shove Anna's body the fuck off you- but she seems to be stronger, now, and she pushes your wrists down by your head the she's now the damn terminator. You yelp in surprise, and drop your head back into the dirt, conceding defeat. Gaze flickering from the forest around you, to Anna's face, you raise your brows. "What did you mean by Anna's dealing with her own penalty right now?" Heat builds up in your chest and your stomach twists. "What are you doing to her?"

"Nothing... I figure if you two are going to play by different rules, then I'll follow your lead. She'll but watch from inside her own body, as I use it to hurt you. That'll be painful enough for her... don't you think?"

Oh no... You think, eyebrows furrowing. No... Anna's in there? You glance at into those eyes again, searching for any signs of her. You find none, but know she's in there... so you fight not to glare back into them, despite the pressure building in you to look back at them the same way its daring to look at you. "... Anna?"

The Entity says nothing back, just blinks as it watches you look absolutely helpless on the ground, hair in the dirt.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes for a moment, you gather your courage, letting the breath out through your nose... You need to comfort her, you realise. Killer's aren't used to being the ones hurt. You just want her to be okay; Cuz you know you damn sure will be. Nothing the entity can do to you anymore can really get you down, for long. You refuse to let it.

"Anna... " Your eyes open again. "If- if you're really in there... I want you to know its okay. I'll be fine. That fucking Doctor does worse to me then this bastard can do with just a little axe, on a regular basis... And those fuckers Macmillan and the Pig aren't a lot better. So I know I'll be fine." Pleading with your eyes, you beg her to understand. "Please don't get too upset, Annie. I know its not you."

As the Entity lets go of one of your wrists and yanks the axe up out of the ground again, and its gaze washes over you... looking for where to start, probably... you squeeze your eyes shut and press your lips firmly together in a straight line. Sure, you'll take your 'punishment', but you wont stare into Anna's eyes while it happens.

Quietly, and before you even realise you wanted to do it... you start humming. Gently, and very almost inaudibly- but the Entity seems to hear it, if the sudden, violent jolt that Anna's body gives is any indication. Its an old lullaby that you know Anna loves. She sings it to you sometimes after a particularly bad trial, when you've come up against the Clown, or Krueger. She'll drag your body up against hers, sitting your back against her chest and hug you, pressing her cheek against the top of your head as the words slip out and your close your eyes; Letting her. You've come to crave those moments with her hugging you like you're special, and important.

The humming was only meant to comfort her, this time... but when her body climbs back off of you and she effortlessly picks you up, setting you in her lap and curling around you, burying her face into your neck.

When you immediately realise that is Anna again, rather then Entity, you quickly relax against her and wrap your arms around her neck and hugging her tight. "Кролик... I am sorry... I did not-... It-... was not me... "

"I know Anna... "

"Forgive me. I do not want you to fear."

"There's nothing to forgive."

Freddy Krueger:

Controlled by- Older, more powerful dream demons. (Uhhhhh *cough* Bill Cipher if you want *Cough cough*)

"Freddy... " You hold out your hands, a cautious gesture as he approaches- blades extended and ready to strike. And he's ascending faster then he usually would, more determined. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you look around, panicking; All you see is four walls, one that you're digging your shoulder blades into in a nearly subconscious attempt to keep yourself as far as you can from your attacker, who isn't acting like himself, and the claw-like blades on his fingers.

Your heart's hammering against your chest, because you know for certain- if he gets to you this time you aren't getting out. No lengthy one-liner is going to allow you to too luckily wake up just in the nick of time, no stupid loophole will stop him short, no silly human distraction will divert his short attention span. Your mind races with different ways you've escaped before, but none of it applies to a situation like this. Freddy's not himself- and weirdly enough you find yourself really fucking missing him. At least you wouldn't be in this situation! Looking around senselessly, you panic. "Shoot, shoot, shoot- "

He'd usually like to drag things out, eat up every delicious reaction you make, and by some miracle you would manage to escape.

But there's no foreseeable getaway out of this one.

Suddenly the wall behind you disappears, leaving a fucking cliff leading to a whole lot of deep, black, nothingness an inch from your heels and you violently flinch away from it, narrowly escaping a terrible fall, eyes wide at the new threat. A whimper comes out of you, staring back over your shoulder at it; You were always uncomfortable with heights.

While you're distracted is when 'Freddy', lunges- but you catch it from the corner of your eye and manage to whip back around in time to catch his wrist, holding the blades away from your body- a pathetic yelp flying out of you at the attack. "No!" Your eyes snap shut and stay squeezed tightly closed for a moment, before you crack them back open to see a furious scowl carved into his usually amused face. Damn it...

There's nothing left to do but beg.

"If you kill me now, all the fun will be over, Freddy." You remind, eyes wide as you try to get that through to him. Try to make him remember. His eyes just narrow at you and his other arm comes out of nowhere flying towards your throat but you catch that wrist too, and although your arm shakes against the struggle to release himself, you manage to not let go. Because if you do and those blades manage to slice through you then you are a goner. "Come on man fight this." Searching his eyes, you try to find even one lick of Freddy left but just despair and panic more when you just find terrible emptiness- its worse then any mirth or roué that's annoyed you before. "You're lots of things but you aren't a tool- please?"

Please, please.

"Oh but he is my tool! Aren't you seeing this??" For the first time, the bastard that's trying to kill you speaks; And your eyes immediately darken, louring at the face. He gives a great yank, trying to pull himself away from you but your fingers only clench down.

"What are you even doing with him?? Isn't he bringing in enough souls for you?? The bastard sure acts ruthless enough."

"Au contraire, Y/N. In fact 'the bastard' hasn't brought in any fresh ones for weeks. Been too busy with you, I'd wager. Which is why I've come to help out." Green eyes wonder across your determined, stony face, before an irritating smirk crosses his. "In fact, while I do admit that you're tough, beautiful- you aren't so tough that I believe you'd be able to ward off his attacks for this long... if he were being serious about it."

Face scrunching up in confusion and disinclined to really try and understand. "Well I guess you're not a great judge of strength because open your eyes and guess what? I'm still right here."

The smirk of Freddy's face turns very cruel. "I don't have any use for a wayward demon with human emotions."

Before you have a real chance to wonder what the hell that remark meant, you take a knee hard to the belly, causing all the the air in your throat to be knocked out, and your grip to loosen as a result- more then enough for the demon to take control of the situation; Shoving you harshly down to the ground and your knees when you double over and hold your stomach and just try to suck in breath again.

As air starts to fill your lungs again sharp, stinging claws scrape up your throat and dig into the skin below your chin. You squeeze your eyes shut, thinking you're really going to die this time.

The knives prod so hard into the soft skin there you think blood's going to spill any time as you jaw tightens and your heart beats as fast as a steam train rolling and your fists clench at your sides- when-

The pain disappears. The whole sensation of being touched by anything but the hard ground the clothes on your back goes away, in fact, and your crack your eyes slowly open, and look up.

Immediate, and odd considering the facts, relief washes over your body because you can tell just looking at him - despite the lack of change in expression, his face still stuck in a grim expression and you don't really blame him after the bullshit that just happened,- that the person standing in front of you now is once again the asshole who's been trying to kill you the past couple weeks. This is one of those moments you know that no one else will understand but you, but the relief in your voice when you say his name now is palpable. "Freddy." The ground behind you starts to grow outwards into the empty space of the chasm, creating a more stable surface for you.

Slowly he tilts his head to the side, regaining a dot of his usual humour. "I suggest you get up sweetheart or I might get some ideas."

Fuck even something stupid and perverted and ill-timed like that causes a wash of relief to roll over you as you get up, brushing off your knees and feeling under you chin for lacerations-

Before a finger-knife once again touches to the soft skin underneath your chin and - gently this time, - guides your head up, and Freddy's eyes flicker half-concerned and mostly unamused over the area. And maybe its wishful thinking, or the way you're still sensitive from fear from just almost getting killed, or what, but you detect a relieved tone in his voice, too. "You're fine."

Laughing Jack:

Controlled by- His own madness.

A lollipop stick - one of those BIG ones, that you see Bugs Bunny hit people like Yosimite Sam in the head with when he's pretending to be a baby,- gets thrown at you and you just manage to duck down before it nails you in the head- when you straighten back up, wide eyed, you see the thing wedged into the wall where your head was... sizzling.

Heart hammering like a crazed Bob The Builder in your chest, you look back at L.J, who's madness is quite literally swirling around visibly in his eyes right now and who's teeth look sharper then before somehow, and feel your heart sink into your feet. Raising your hands in the universal sign of surrender, you take a step back. "L.J... come on... "

"Pop... hehe... Pop! Pop- that's how the weasel goes? Right??" His voice is so sweet and British, but the growl that tears out of his very soul and turns yours to absolute ice as he hurls another poisonous not-so-fun-sized lollipop at you- the stick cramming into the plaster by your arm. Way too close for comfort. You can feel heat coming off of it and burning your skin like radiation. Goddamn, what did he dip this in? Unfathomably shiver inducing giggles bubble up out of L.J's chest, and you snap back to attention. "Pop... hehe... Like you!- If you eat that lolly."

Side stepping the lollipops, you put the kitchen table between you and your boyfriend. "Yeah... yeah, hilarious."

His eyes snap click to yours, cool and grey and killer focused. "Sarcasm?"

Oh hell- "No!" Desperately, you cry, surprised at what he's jumped to and terrified of that look in his beautiful, scary eyes. "No, its funny! Really!"

Oh my god, really! Truly!

Oh god you want to cry, not laugh! But you force a smile onto your face anyway, fingers gripping the dining chair in front of you so tight your knuckles turn white.

Slowly, a dangerous grin spreads across L.J's sharp, off-white angelic features. In a sing-song voice, as he follows a slow, deliberate, predatory course around the table to you as your eyes widen the closer he gets. "I~ Don't~ Believe~ You!~ "

Claws scrape against each other at one of his sides, and on the other his talon-like fingers itch around a pocket full of lethal treats- still deciding, you're sure, which devastating delectable to shove down your throat.

"L.J... please... " You stay cautiously, try to take a step back again and escape, but he grabs grabs you this time. holding you down in your spot by a shoulder, like a child getting a shot. "Ah!"

"Now stay still!~ Love you're just as sweet as a gum drop!" A short flicker of fondness whispers beyond his eyes, before his grip clenches down more painfully on your shoulder and it disappears again. All you can do is roll your shoulder, trying in vein to wiggle out of his grip and lessen the pain. "But to be quite honest with you I'm thinking you deserve something a little less ordinary don't you? Maybe, a... warhead, instead ey!?- Huh?"

You can hear his heartbeat slow down, as you press the side of your face against his chest, as you had lurched forward and arms wrapped around his waist as you hugged him warmly. "Please just come back L.J. I know you're having a moment but I need you to come back. I need you."

"This is!- This is really not- Very- Look I'm British, and this is not super dignified- " His voice is still high and mad, but you cant very well let him go now. This is your only remaining idea to bring him back.

Affection is hard for L.J on a good day, much less a hard one like this, but its the only human reaction you know for sure you can get out of him- and you're desperate.

"L.J... " Your voice is small, as you gaze sadly at the floor. "Please, come back to me... " An uncomfortable, strangled groan comes out oh him- but he does not rip you off of him.

In fact, the next thing you feel is the gentle tap of something familiarly cone-like on the top of your head as he casually touches his nose to your scalp.

"... I've come back, sweets...

Now please, please let me go- "

Offenderman:

Controlled by- Unknown, powerful force. (Possibly Zalgo?)

"Forever in love with the human Offender design that has him with long grey/silver hair.

"Uh... Offender?" Something about this man right now is... disconcerting best, you think as you set down the groceries on the hall table, kicking the front door closed and shedding your jacket from around your waist. He's standing silently, leaning against a wall instead of on the couch with the TV remote like he usually would be.

Now, his head turns slowly from the blank screened TV, to you- and you definitely feel a sense of dread settle in your bones.

No smirk, no flirty comment. He just stares; His lips resting in a thin, unchanging line like a robot.

"Offender? You... " Tilting your head to the side, you get a little bit concerned. "Okay?"

There's no response. Your eyebrows furrow.

"You wanna know my total at the register just now? 69 dollars. Ain't that funny?"

Now, usually that would make the over-powered moron laugh like an idiot, stamping his foot down onto the floor and all, but now a tentacle shoots out from his back and squeezes around your neck.

A gasp tears from your throat as he drags you up off of the floor, the tips of your feet barely scraping the carpet anymore. Tears cluster in your eyes from the suddenness of it all as you try and suck in air, but he's really getting to it. No holds bared. His grip is like steel, locking up your airway entirely, immediately.

You cant speak but you mouth his name, scraping your nails into the appendage as your legs writhe up to your stomach in the air, struggling to breath in air that he wont let you.

What... the... hell.

"I have a mission- stop. Must destroy weakness- stop. The Sexual Offenderman first- stop. No one will notice he's changed- stop." He talks like he's reading out a telegram, and its his voice but at the same time its not. There's absolutely no tone in it that would in anyway scream Offender, to you, but that generously chocolaty, gravelly voice belongs to no other body but his. So you know that its him. But what's wrong with him?

Who... are... you? You can barely think through your struggle to breath and the blind panic about death clearly nearing as black spots enter your vision, but you manage to think out that before your head goes foggy.

"Head of the mission anonymous- stOop."

Is it just the delirium stewing around in your brain or did his voice crack on that last syllable?

The tentacle suddenly snatches back from your neck, so fast it leaves a burn behind in its wake but you're more preoccupied landing on weak, bucking legs and taking in great big lung full's of air- before just as suddenly as you had been allowed reprieve, its stolen away from you again. This time his fist has taken its place, pinning your neck to the wall behind you- and your head spins, from the back of your head knocking harshly against the wall.

If your vision wasn't blurry before, it sure is now.

Offender's fingers flex around your throat, gripping it desperately- and you notice a deep frown on his mouth just before your eyes slip closed, a strangled cry escaping you.

Slowly... everything... every sense and every hurt... disappears, as you lose consciousness.

~

You don't know how much later it is when your eyes flutter open again, but miraculously they do and when you see Offender leaning against the wall this time, you scramble back backwards- to the headboard of your your bed.

Confused, you look around. You're in your bedroom, now. In bed. Your neck throbs still and to breath is to inflict pain upon yourself. Gaze flickers cautiously back to Offender, although you aren't so worried. If he was still under... whoever, or whatever... that was's, control, then he never would've stopped or let you go. Or set you down in your bed.

On inspection, all his tentacles are hidden away wherever they come from in his back again, and his arms are held carefully behind his back. When he notices that you're calm, heartbeat slowing down to a steady beat once again, you watch him as he lets out a relieved breath.

Still, his voice is cool and relaxed- if a little enthusiastic. Its Offender, and you feel a washed in relief that he's back.

"Fuck, baby. I dunno whatever the hell that was but I promise you its gonna get one hell of a wake up call when I find it." His sharp teeth shine in the sunlight filtering in through the window, as he scowls. Then he takes a deep breath, composing himself, as he comes forward and sits down on the edge of your bed. "Now c'mere, I gotta play doctor now."

Peter Hale:

Controlled by- A vampire (Possibly Damon Salvetore... for fun... ).

"Yep- Scott- Yeah, I got it. I've seen Twilight, okay?" You tease, snorting when theirs a scuffle on the other end of the phone and making out Styles voice snapping at Scott to hand him the diddly- damn- phone. Fishing through your bag, you get out of the key to Peters apartment and the vervain shot he needs to take. "Okay. I gotta go, I'm here. Tell Styles to calm down; I was kidding." You giggle, slipping the key into the lock. "Well- not about seeing Twilight. I actually enjoy it- bye!"

And quickly, you hang up the phone before either of the two boys can say anything else, slip your phone into your back pocket and open the door.

As you kick the door gently closed behind you, you look around got the particular sourwolf you're in search of. "Hey Peter? You home??"

In true Beacon Hills style- another enemy has reared its ugly head. And its not Peter this time, thank god. No, this time... it just had to be vampires.

Rolling your eyes, you venture deeper into the stylish downtown apartment. It was going to happen eventually, you suppose. Werewolves and Vampires kind of go hand in hand, if you are to take any of the supernatural teen romance pop culture seriously at all. Which at this point in life- you kind of do. How could you not, living here??

So here you are, baring gifts for your partner; A wealth of knowledge from Scott and Styles and a syringe full of vervain. And maybe a kiss or two, depending on whether he's nice.

A few moments pass as you go into the kitchen and turn on the fancy coffee maker Peter paid way too much for and get out two mugs- setting your bag down on a chair by the counter; Basically, making yourself at home. You practically live here at this point, so you always do this. Its nothing out of the ordinary.

But do you know what is, out of the ordinary??

The vampire.

As soon as that foul, sickly sweet, distinctly fake smell that your supposed enemy species is drenched with fills your nostrils suddenly, the hair all over your body stands on end. Goosebumps form all up and down your arms. Your head snaps up, and you look cautiously around.

Where... is... Peter. Where is your goddamn mate?

And where's the vampire?

Eyes flickering all around the room, you see immediately when the most bad boy vampire type guy ever walks into the room, on the other side of the dinner table and the counter to you, coming from the bedroom+bathroom area. You manage to stay composed, just opening your mouth to say hello, with a given amount of venom and suspicion bleeding through your tone- when an honest-to-goodness yelp is torn out of you, as hands come from behind and wrestle you against the side counter and the cabinets there, and your eyes snap up to see that its Peter.

Your shoulders drop, and you don't fight him. Heart thumping in your chest, at how wrong everything here is and how confused you are, and now Peter- you look up at him wide eyed confusion and concern. "Peter?"

He doesn't even look at you... just turns his head towards the vampire.

Your stomach immediately takes an awful plummet... down to your feet. You're too late. He's been compelled.

Feeling sick and uncomfortable, you follow his gaze to the vampire version of your mate. Because... yep. Stylish outfit, devil-may-care vibes, air of boredom? That's definitely a look that you're familiar with. Still, you cant help but feel very badly towards this, particular, fang-ier design.

"What the hell is going on?" You try to sound confident, and courageous- but mostly you're just worries. What's the play, here? You don't even know why the vampire's are here, in Beacon Hills. you have no idea what you're up against... and you hate it.

But mostly you hate how Peter, your mate, your boyfriend, your stupid formerly psychotic lover is caught up in it. Him being stuck here with you is one thing- but him not being him?? Oh... no. No, you hate this. With every fibre of your being.

And he smells like the demon, too. Disgusting.

"Oh- glad you asked." The man's voice hurts your superior, wolf-y ears, even as you aren't truly listening to him. Something about a werewolf biting his brother? Doesn't matter, anyway. Your gaze, turned concerned, slipped right back to Peter as soon as the bastard got caught up in his villainous spiel.

You manage to twist your wrists and yank them from Peter's grip, as he's just focused mainly on keeping you where you are rather then attacking the vampire probably, and reach up to gently cup his face- guiding him to look at you so you can worriedly assess him.

There's no Peter behind those eyes, you realise as you worry your bottom lip. Those eyes are hard, and dull, and thoughtless. Peter's pretty bored a lot of the time but there's never any doubt that theirs something - maybe something judgemental, and sometimes even nefarious, - going on in his head. But now?... nothing. And it breaks your heart a little, to see. "Peter... " You say again, just under your breath. Mostly just mouthing the word. Come back. Come back here, please?

"- are you even listening to me?... Ugh! And that was a really freaken good speech, too. Do your kind not appreciate the monologue? Come, on. Its traditional! You know? I tell you why I'm here, why I've gonna rip your head off, and you sit there all... you know, defiant! But scared, too, yeah. Its a good thing! Its one of the things I missed most about being the bad guy!" The guy, the vampire, grabs your attention again- appearing just on the other side of the counter; Which he leans on. You turn your face, anger burning in your face, to him just to scowl. Does he think this is funny?

Deeply rolling some seriously crystal-like blue eyes, the raven haired male drops his cheek into his hand- elbow resting on the bench. "Ughhh. So boring. Okay, fine. Seeing as its clear, that you two don't know anything useful.. I guess I'll just get rid of you both." He heaves a great sigh, then waives like 'get on with it' as he starts assessing some canvas prints on the wall. "Go on, wolf-man. Kill her. Then kill yourself."

Fury, sparked by fear, explodes in you and you suddenly try to lunge out of Peter's grip at the vampire, reaching out for his throat. "Why don't you do it yourself!?- " Peter yanks you back, though, before the vamp gets the good sense to move even an inch. "Ah!"

"Ahhh, there we go. Some quality defiance! That's what I like to see- too bad its too little too late... yea... sorry! I got crap to do today, so... uh... yeah, see ya! You know, or not."

Gritting your teeth, as Peter shows his claws... ready to slash your throat. "I hope your brother dies." Are your parting words for the bloodsucker.

"There's a club for that you can join! Too bad you'll be too dead to join, mm... Oh well! Bye!"

The bastard leaves the apartment before you can say anything else.

You're left just with Peter, who is literally about to kill you. But, still, you aren't able to back down, or shrink down, in front of him. Because its Peter, and no matter the fact that he is compelled, it still feels like him. And you don't have it in you to be scared of him.

Feeling determined suddenly, you slap your hands around his face again, and make him focus on you. "Peter." You say, sternly. More desperate and more powerful then before. You would think you stole the soul of Dame Maggie Smith. "Listen to me now." Looking deeply into those familiar eyes you love, you think only for the man you want back rather then your imminent death. "You said you cared about me. That you loved me. I need you to think about that, now. Right now. Because if you don't, you're going to go and do some things, you wont even be able to regret."

His hand stops.

Seeing that as a chance that he's hearing you, you step forward a smidgeon to be closer to him, and get gentler in your approach. As a werewolf, your connection to your mate isn't as huge and earth shattering as Wattpad fanfiction makes it out but it is something, at least, and you're hoping it helps here. Please. "I really need you right now. Please, Peter. I love you."

Then you bow your head, just laying your forehead under his chin and praying he comes back- but also taking a deep breath. Like its your last. Like you're getting ready... to die.

But too many more moments pass by without anything happening, and you want to lean back and see what's happening, if he's okay, but you're also afraid that if you do move it'll spook him. You're just holding onto him, your eyes squeezed shut, more conscious of his crazy familiar cologne that you're breathing in, then ever.

Then suddenly his body relaxes, and a hand comes down on the back of your hair. You suck in a deep breath and grip him tighter. Thank god. "... Its okay. I'm back, sweetheart... and we have a vamp to kill."

Peter Hayes:

Controlled by- Jeanine, via sim.

Suddenly you feel the familiar sense of gun pressed to the back of your head, and your heart goes cold. Because there is only one person you haven't accounted for- and you cant fight him.

Strong and quick at the same time, making him second in your class (Above you, for sure)... and also, the boy that gave you the purple and yellow marks on your throat.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to calm your racing heart. How stupid were you to finally trust him- he's a fucking snake and he's never going to be any different. No matter how much, consciously, you hope he will be. Or how much, subconsciously, you tell yourself its not going to happen. Taking in a shaking breath, you start to talk. "P-Peter- "

But you're cut off. "Oh, he cant hear you." Your eyes suddenly snap open again to find Jeanine not far away, strolling into the room. Immediately your eyes go cold, too, glaring at her. What? "He's in a sim. If he can hear you- he cant do anything about it. He's under my control." She shrugs, daintily. "Sorry."

Suddenly theirs no calming your heart as you freeze up. He's in a sim. God- your feelings about - for, - Peter are complicated but you know well enough that you hate this. You desperately want to turn around, shake sense into him, but you know it would be useless. Tris was only able to break Four out that time because they're insanely in love with each other- you don't even know if Peter really knows what love feels like.

So that leaves one option.

Suddenly ducking, you hear a bullet come free and fly through the air where your head was, as you squat and turn around. You grab onto Peter's ankle and give a sharp tug; Causing the boy to fall flat on his ass before he can even aim again.

As soon as you can, you climb up and rip the gun out of his hand before trying to scramble away, so you don't have to fight anymore for a multitude of reasons - he's stronger then you, he's faster then you, you're in love with him, - but a powerful hand grabs your ankle this time and the strength with which he uses to drag you back, beneath him this time, is enough to knock the air out of you. "Ah!- "

No- He clenches another hand around your arm and twists hard, stealing a gasp of pain from you and ensuring you don't struggle out of his hold.

He takes your wrist in his hand this time, squeezing so hard it hurts- so you get of the gun.

Peter - or the empty shell, - clicks the barrel into place then and presses it into the side of your neck.

The metal is cold and it shocks you, and you freeze, but your heart is mostly pounding because Peter's going to kill you. Jeanine walked off when he grabbed you again, leaving you to do alone.

You just look at him with eyes for a moment, breathing in and out heavily; Memorising the boy from Dauntless Initiation, that made everyone's lives hell just because he could, for no other reason then because there's nothing left to do for you, and he's pretty. You cant escape, you cant fight back... you're dead.

As that realisation dawns on you, you take a deep, shaky breath and you cant help but raise a shaky hand - the one attached to the arm that Peter is currently twisting with all his might, - , and touch his face. You don't know if he'll just press the trigger before you even get a chance to do this next thing, but you want to try.

"I don't know why Peter, but I always wanted to do this." You whisper, using his name not because he can hear you or you think he's in there at all, but just because that's who you want to kiss.

Then you do it, you curl your hand around the back of his neck and pull his not-resisting head down, and press your lips to his like you always read about- saw older faction members do- heard was done.

When you finish a second later, you're expecting him to just immediately shoot you, but instead you notice how focused his eyes are and your own widen, before he swoops down and presses a longer kiss to your lips.

You wrench him back this time, eyebrows knitted together as you search his face. He's out of the sim!? "Peter!?" You exclaim, full of shock. How did he-

"I kind wanted to do that, too." He tells you.

Scott (Total Drama):

Controlled by- A ridiculous, horrible Chris McLean original(tm) invention (A.K.A, a challenge) that allows a partner (A.K.A, Chaotic Mr Mal) to control the wearers actions. I mean, the object of the challenge is to get through the dangerous obstacle course, but I feel like Mal's gonna have a different kinda fun with this.

"MIKE!" You shout, scrambling out of the way before Scott's arms, and the crowbar in his hands, can come down anywhere on your body. Looking back with wide eyes at your boyfriend, who cant control his movements and is just desperately trying to let go of the damn pole. Turning your head to see Mike, next, you see him hit the control pad on some railing beside him and shrug, a panicked, helpless look on his awkward face.

"Its not working! Chris must have made them glitchy on purpose! Damn, this could really hurt someone!"

Now you look to Chris, eyes wide and furious. That does make sense!- "Hey, I didn't make them. That was the interns- but the idea, yeah, that was mine. Patent pending." Chris shrugs, giving a too-white smile to the some hidden camera.

Whatever, you think, knowing you have to focus on Scott now- so he doesn't kill you. As soon as you return your attention to him, you realise you should never have stopped watching him in the first place, because he is coming right at you again and you shriek- jumping behind him. "Scott!"

"Sorry, Y/N!! I- I cant control myself!" His reflexes are slow, due to him fighting his brain and his limbs, but farmer boy is still strong. If he gets a hold of you, if he gets you- you're done for. You'll be off the show, you might even be dead if he gets your head.

Wincing when he swings again, turning around- jump before he can get all the way turned; Wrapping you arms around him from behind, and holding on tight as you squeeze your eyes closed and bury your face in a shoulder blade. The likelihood of you being able to hold him still for long isn't good but what other choice do you have? You have to stay out of the way of that bar!

Cracking your eyes open, arms locked around your thrashing boyfriend, you peak back at Mike again- and catch just the end of a dark, evil grin. Your eyes widen as your breath clips, lifting your chin from the cotton Scott's tank. What?-

Immediately his elbow rears back and you take a blow to your stomach. "Ah!- " Ohhhh noooo... fuck, that does not feel good... In your pain, you let go of Scott; Stepping back away from him to hold your stomach- but not so far that you leave the obstacle course.

"Y/N!" Mike and Scott both yell, as you real from the pain and Scott's body turns to face you. Mike's voice is frazzled, still, and when you glance at him his face is back to normal too- but you do not trust him for a goddamn second after that look on his face. Maybe this really isn't Chris' fault, for once.

Well, if Mike isn't going to get Scott through the course, then theirs no need for you to play along with the challenge, either. As Scott comes at you again and the pain subsides in your stomach, you manage to reach up and catch his wrist - though you have to use both arms, and both arms tremble with the force it takes to hold Scott's arm and the dreaded crowbar above your head in the air and away from you, - , eyes slipping to Scott's. "Come on- " You force the words out, struggling to hold him off. "You gonna make me fight you Scotty?"

"I!... Cant!... Stop it!... "

Beginning to panic, because in a few seconds your arms are going to give and you're going to get a nasty wallop to your face, you glance quickly to the helmet on Scott's head controlling him. Okay. "Stop fighting it." You whisper quickly, looking back to Scott's eyes.

"What!?" He scowls, immediately. "No way! I'm not gonna hurt you- "

"Scott!" You snap, frustrated and losing your grip.

"Oh, fine!" With one last growl of effort, Scott lets go of the reigns and you let go of his arm- immediately shooting forward into his body so his arm flies down and knocks the ground with a BANG. Your hands go up quickly, and snatch the helmet off of his head; Chucking the bundle of rusted metal and wires onto the forest floor behind him.

For a moment everything is still. Scott stops moving entirely, and you're afraid you hurt him, yanking that mind-controlling helmet away from him. You slowly step back, wanting to look at his face and see if he's alright-

When the crowbar hits the ground heavily, and Scott grabs you back, wrapping his arms around you tightly- protectively. Immediately you relax into him and sigh, in relief. "I'm so sorry, Y/N! I don't know what happened, the damn machine musta glitched! I tried to hold back, but!-

"Its okay," You reply gently, holding him back just as tight as you bury the side of your face in his chest. "I know you weren't in control!- "

"But STILL- my pa didn't teach me much about romance but I do know that y'should never try and hit 'em with a prybar!" He gives you another squeeze.

[echosofhorrorxx]

I have a horror movie/Halloween horror nights discord server!! DM me if you're interested!! :))

Minors/agless blogs DNI

[ideasvoid]

Hello! I was wondering, would be willing to write for The Clown/Jeffrey Hawk? Anything fluffly, really, I rarely come across fluff about him and I'm starving for it. I am in need of soft Clown content. Please and thank you :C

Hello sweetheart, I can absolutely do that for you.

Please be warned I have not written for Jeffery yet, but I will do my best.

Bhvr can rip Maurice from my cold dead hands

The Clown - Kenneth Chase / Jeffery Hawk

The carriage creaked loudly as Kenneth stepped down from its steps, rocking back into place once he stepped off. The clown had a mission of sorts. One that had taken a lot of planing, a lot of questions and partial charades with the nurse, and a many favours owed to an old coot with a gun. Entirely worth it, however.

Kenneth glanced back, a final check to ensure everything was just right, before continuing on his way. Despite his… less than gentlemanly appearance and mannerisms, Kenneth did know a thing or two about romance - sort of. He had been relatively popular in his teenage years, lending to showing him the basics of wooing someone.

Whatever he didn’t learn from then he remembered from movies, books and most recently, whatever he had been able to convey from the raspy breathes of the only person in the realm he knew had actually been married.

Tonight would test his knowledge, and it would be a lie to say he wasn’t silently panicking. Was it too much? Was it enough? Would he look like a fool? He already looked like a fool he was dressed like a clown - no, none of that. get it together, Kenneth.

The fog at the boarder of the realm began to shift, curling in and out as the land began to change. The clown straighten his back some, quickly brushing back his mussed hair and silently cursing his balding.

He watched closely as you stepped from the mist, stealing away his breath as you did. You were always stunning in his eyes, and if never failed to surprise him just how you made his heart leap. You smiled at him, stepping forward to take his outstretched hand. “Now will you tell me what you’ve been hiding?”

He smirked, turning to begin guiding you back toward the caravan. “Can’t, wouldn’t be much of a surprise.”

The two of you entered the clearing past the burned building, and you gasped. The usual carnival games and tacky attractions had been pushed aside in the corner, lending room for a single table set up in the middle. An old, moth eaten table cloth draped over it with a candle burning in the centre. Strings of lights twinkled above, were it not for the dilapidated and dirty look of everything around you - this would be like a scene from a cheesy movie.

Kenneth watched you take in the sight, silently questioning himself. Did you hate it? You have a snort of a laugh, playfully pushing him. “You’re such a dork!” Oh god, you hated it. You smiled up at him, warmth radiating off you as you took his hand again “this is wonderful, thank you”

oh, alright. He mentally laughed at himself, what had he been so worried about? Psh he still had it.

The clown gave a dramatic bow, waving an arm towards the table in a very over the top display. You laughed again as he led you to your spot, pulling your chair out for you and stumbling slightly to push it back in on the grassy ground. The rusted iron chair creaked as he sat down in it, cussing quietly under his breath. “Where’d you get this idea? ” You asked, your voice light with a playful tone.

“I’ll have ya know, I came up with all this myself. ‘m somewhat of a love expert.” He adjusted the collar of his shirt for comedic effect, pulling small laugh from you. Music to his ears. “Well I look forward to what that expert mind has planned” you smiled propping your head up with a hand.

Kenneth smiled, quite proud of himself. “Nothin’ special, just this.” He closed his eyes, a confident grin on his painted face. You stared at him, glancing around for something to happen or for him to move. After a moment, he opened his eyes, brows knitting together. “I said, just this” silence met the two of you, broken only by a laboured huff from Maurice.

“Caleb! Get your scrawny ass out here!” Jeffery shouted, thumbing his fist on the table. You heard a deep sigh, and from behind the large caravan stepped an older man you recognized. The whispered stories told around the campfire, and horrific memories of glowing eyes. The Deathslinger himself. Gone was his signature duster and hat, traded out for a simple old blue shirt and vest. Pale hair tied back and a scowl firmly placed on his features that told you he really didn’t want to be present.

The bounty hunter - or Caleb, as you’ve now found out - approached, unceremoniously dropping two plates of entity catered mystery food onto the table. “Bone apple whatever tha hell.” He said bitterly, glaring at Jeffery before turning to you and pointing a finger in your direction. “One word o’ this to anyone an’ I make you eat the harpoon.”

Jeffery coughed, fixing the man a look. Caleb turned on his heel. Muttering to himself as he limped away, once he was gone you released the laugh you had been desperately holding in. Kenneth joined you, his familiar harsh laugh filling the clearing.

You smiled, it had been so long since you had been able to enjoy a meal with someone you cared for. Yes you ate at the campfire with the others, but this was something different, something special. This was a date. A real, proper date with someone you loved. Someway, somehow Kenneth had hopped through enough hoops to arrange the closest thing to a romantic date one could get in this hell, and he had done it for you.

You reached across the table, taking his hand into yours and fixed your gaze to his. “Thank you, Kenneth. Really.”

The clown leaned forward, raising your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the top of your hand. “Anythin’ for you, Doll.”

[semiweirdshipper]

Jeffrey Hawk/The Clown taking care of a reader on their period.

He knew there was something up. Last night you had tossed and turned for hours on end, even going so far as to leave the bed and lay on the couch to "not bother him as much". Pfft. You should know better than to think that way. The only thing that bothered Jeffrey was when you made wrong and unnecessary assumptions about him. It was as if you expected the worst out of him. But he wouldn't get frustrated with you over this for he knew exactly what was going on.

Jeffrey had woken up before you, hauling himself out of bed to go fix breakfast and watch TV. He knew that, after such a difficult night, you needed the rest, and it was best to let you recuperate. The day could start later. However, on a trip to the restroom, he decided to stop and check in on you, his grey-blue eyes taking in the sight of your uncovered body bathing in the morning glow of sunshine penetrating through the curtains. You were so beautiful and cute, your mouth parted open, hair messy, arms strung out and feet tangled in the blankets. Your peaceful aura brought joy to his broken world.

He continued to gaze at you in simple admiration until the sight of something dark glistened within the morning sun. He huffed in suspicion and waltzed into the room, his eyes squinting as he looked down at the splotches of red in between your thighs. Oh boy. He sighed, noting that your underwear was soaked as well as the sheets beneath you. Welp, looks like you were going to be boss of the house for a while.

Minor aggravation coursed through Jeffrey's nerves as he quietly stomped off to start you a warm bath. He wasn't aggravated with you or the situation by any means, but he did have a feeling that this was going to be a problem for you. You were already so skittish, insecure and doubtful around him in general, constantly apologizing and panicking over the simplest things. Waking up to this? He just knew that you were probably going to freak out and overreact. You might cry too. Ugh... He hated seeing you cry.

After starting the water and grabbing a spare towel, Jeffrey returned to the bedroom and approached you on the bed. Carefully he seated himself on the mattress, his head turning back to take in your slumbering form. Dang it. He really didn't want to disturb you. He sighed, his hand reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. "Hey... Hey, bunny, wake up," He mumbled, stroking your cheek. "Wake up now."

"Mm?" Came your endearing reply, little, tired whimpers filling the air as you roused, eyes blinking open goofily. "Jeffrey?" You whispered, your sleepy tone just so adorable and sweet. He could eat you up in a heart beat.

"Hey bunny," He coughed a little while leaning down, his hand brushing your cheek before allowing you to take his hand, "How're you feeling?"

You blinked gorggily and hummed, your mouth opening with a yawn, "Mmm... Still tired." As you began to stretch, Jeffrey suddenly released your hand and went to place a palm on your thigh, stilling you into confusion, "What-"

"Try not to move too much, m'k?" He whispered in a somewhat hushed voice, his palms rubbing soothing circles into your thighs as he tried to pull a funny face, "I think the captain here's sailing 'cross the red sea."

"Huh?" You rasp in confusion at his confusing joke before the familiar terms hit you at bullet speed, and you were jerking yourself upwards far enough you could look down between your legs. And that's when the horror settled in.

"Now, now," Jeffrey began, pointing a firm expression your way before you started going haywire. "Don't you dare go off them rails, ya hear? This ain't nothin' to worry about, got it?"

"Oh no," You gasp, you're conscience overrun with mortification. You had started your period. You had started your period on Jeffrey's bed. How disgusting could you be? And he had caught you. He was right here in front of you witnessing it. Oh God, he must be furious. You had contaminated his personal belongings with your nasty human filfth, and now he was probably going to throw you out like the unleashed dog you were. "I... I..." Your eyes began to water.

"Damn it, (y/n), I said don't worry," Jeffrey sighed in visual frustration and stood up, his big arms lifting outwards towards you. "Up," He demanded, wiggling his fingers at you, "Come on."

"I-I'm sorry," You whined, one hand going to cover your eyes while the other clenched up in the sheets, "I'm so sorry..."

"For God's sake, quit apologizin'. I ain't mad; you know that," He grumbled, tossing the towel at you. "Here, wrap yourself with this. I got the bath runnin' for ya. Hurry an' get in there before it overflows."

You took the towel with a small speckle of uncertainty, your watery eyes looking at him with sad wonder. He wasn't mad? And he had made you a bath? You sniffled, your humiliated, terrified heart scrambling around in a ball of worry inside your chest. "Thank you, Jeffrey," You whisper, unable to face him as you grab the towel with shaky hands and go to wrap it around your waist. "I-I promise I-I'll clean this up. N-new sheets and everything, I promise, I-"

As soon as you stood up, Jeffrey pressed two fingers against your lips and wheezed, his scowl small yet teasing, "Do I needa' glue your mouth shut?"

You bowed your head at him in shame. Jeffrey sighed in huge exaggeration and pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you and holding you against his side, "Quit mopin', alright? The only crime you've committed is raisin' my water bill."

You scoffed, glaring at him from where your face lay happily smooshed against his pecks. He chuckled and ruffled your messy hair playfully, "I need'a redecorate anyway. Same ol' sheets get boring to look at all the time."

"I really don't mind cleaning it up," You whimpered, gazing at your bloody mess with shame and misery, "I know I'm disgusting..."

"And I don't mind spankin' your ass ya say somethin' like that one more time," Jeffrey growled, glaring unhappily at you in the hopes that you would understand that he wasn't in the mood to tolerate your obnoxious doubts and insecurities. Whenever you looked away in further despair, he sighed, hugged you tight and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your forehead. "Get in there b'fore the tub overflows. Leave your clothes on the sink. Got it, sunshine?"

"Yeah," You replied quietly, your body absorbing his tender affections as he held you close for a few seconds longer.

"Now scat," Jeffrey gave you a small push, ushering you away so that he could take care of the blankets and sheets.

Stuck in a cloud of humiliation, you followed his orders and went to the bathroom, abruptly turning off the facet water before shedding your shirt, shorts and underwear. You sat the stained clothing on the sink as he requested and went to dip yourself into the fresh, clean tub, loving satisfaction buzzing through you as you enjoy the soothing temperature. Jeffrey always knew just what you liked. You were lucky to have him.

"Wastin' my water..." Jeffrey sighed in exasperation as he entered the bathroom to grab your dirty clothes, his eyes lingering on your shy figure lying cozily in the tub. You were so damn beautiful to him, even on your bad days.

"Really?" You groaned, knowing that he was obviously teasing you. He was always cracking silly jokes, trying to make you feel guilty about random things you would never feel guilty about. Over the months you had grown used to it, simply rolling your eyes every time he teased, but you wouldn't deny the fondness you felt towards his ridiculous jokes.

Jeffrey chuckled and asked, "Want me to cook ya breakfast?"

You fumbled nervously, unconsciously feeling bad for nodding, "Yes please?"

"What'a ya want?" Jeffrey coughed, purposely playing around with your dirty underwear and earning himself an attack of water being flicked his way. "Hey, I said no wastin' water. Jesus, you're tryin' to ring me dry."

"Oh stop it," You bark, rolling your eyes. See? A tease. You smiled at him and requested what you desired eating for breakfast, your heart drumming with content as he agreed to have it ready by the time you got dressed.

Before he left the bathroom, he made sure that you had everything you needed. Clean clothes, pads, your hairbrush and a fresh towel. He also brought you a cup of your favorite morning beverage along with some menstrual medication. Later on he would go to the store to stock up on some more of your monthly needs, but you might have to write it all down on paper for him. He wouldn't make you go anywhere when you were feeling like this.

After you were finished with your bath, you got dressed and did your morning bathroom routine before making way for the kitchen, the sight of the fresh bed sheets sending a warm tremor through your heart. How could you ever want for anyone greater? Did a greater person exist? The smell of breakfast outlined your precious feelings as you wandered into the kitchen, your fingers pressing together over your aching belly as you approached the man sitting at the dining table.

"Feelin' better?" Asked Jeffrey, his mouth twitching as he took one last drag off a cigarette before crushing it in the ash bowl.

"Mhm, thank you," You almost came close to apologizing again but paused immediately on account of the fact that Jeffrey did not like it when you apologized too much. So you settled for walking up beside him, your hands going to wrap around his shoulders, your face forming into a pout, "My tummy still hurts."

"Well tell it to stop," Jeffrey wheezed while waving the lingering smoke away as he pulled you close to him, one large hand slipping up the front of your shirt.

You instantly uttered a deep, quiet moan of bliss, the feel of Jeffrey's large, warm, magnetizing hand rubbing your tender, aching flesh causing your toes to curl in bodily satisfaction. It felt so good. You sighed, hugging him against your chest, your throat nearly purring from how good it felt, the love he gave you. He kissed your neck, his hot breath sending a shudder through you.

"Darn thing, makin' me waste all this water and gas," Jeffrey grumbled, chuckling whenever you pushed on his head a little in frustration. "Can't even watch my favorite show. Know why?"

"Because I'm dis-"

"Cause I already got it right here in my arms," Jeffrey cut you off, one arm tightening around you in a manner of fondness, love and protection. "Best show I ever did see." You melted at that, your body sagging into him as if you were perfectly molded for each other. Inside your chest your heart fluttered in madness, consumed by the loving attention he continued to shower you with.

Jeffrey finished cooking you and himself breakfast, continously teasing and making ridiculous jokes. You were beginning to feel better although the aches and pressure still greatly lingered. Eating helped a bit, but the cramps restrained you from properly enjoying the delicious meal. A few times you had complained up until the point Jeffrey grabbed your mostly empty plates, scraped them and threw them in the sink before dragging you to the living room sofa, and from there he proceeded to do one of your favorite things ever.

Once Jeffrey had the TV turned on to his desired channel, he grabbed his soda and sat down on the couch, steadily reclining back into the beat-in cushions. From there he gazed up at you and shook his head in confusion, his arms gesturing you forward. "Well come on," He ushered.

Blushing, you timidly walked forward, your body erupting with a small tremor of excitement as you stopped before him. Gazing away, you carefully put a knee on the couch on one side of his thigh before quickly following suite with the other, straddling his strong thighs between your own smaller ones. "That's it, bunny," Jeffrey rubbed the back of your head, his hands gently coaxing you into leaning against him.

And you did.

With a happy whimper, you leaned forward, your belly and chest pressing against Jeffreys and leaving you with just enough room to lay your head against his thick, warm pecks. And yes, it was precisely as amazing as it sounded. Forget hot water bottles. Forget heating pads. Forget massager guns. Why would you need any of those things when you had literally all you could ever want and more right here?

You sighed pleasantly, your cramps feeling significantly less destructive while being snuggly pressed against him. "I gotcha," He whispered against the top of your head, kissing you as his hands caressed and massaged the areas of your body he knew often ached the worst. "I gotcha."

And he would always have you.

[deadbydangit]

Hello! I'll start off by saying that your writing is literally so good. I keep going to my following list and checking your blog for more writing. What do you even put in your writing? Something addictive? Cause it's working like a charm lol

Anyway um ok so a lot of people wouldn't agree with me but I have such a soft spot for the Clown. If it's alright, could you write some best friends to lovers hcs with him? Totally up to you. Thank you for your time!

Don't tell them my secret! Just kidding. I'm glad. Please enjoy.

Friends to Lovers Headcanons

Clown

Your friendship is weird.

Like, really weird.

He has no idea why you want to be around him.

No sane person wants to be around Jeffery.

He knows he isn't exactly the most pleasant person to be around.

With hacking and the drinking and the cutting fingers off.

That's just a shortened list.

But you're still sticking around, and, he actually doesn't hate it.

He actually enjoys having another person to talk to.

None of the other Killers want to spend any time with him.

And, obviously, the other survivors don't either.

You're able to look past all his flaws and shortcomings.

He feels like he can speak to you about anything, that you won't judge him.

He doesn't smile very often, only when he's around you.

Eventually, he'll trust you so much he'll tell you his real name.

Kenneth Chase.

He'll apologize profusely for lying to you about his name in the first place.

With bated breath, he'll tell you all about his history and past.

The things he had done.

Almost as if he's waiting for you to walk away at any moment.

But you don't.

And that's when he starts having feelings for you.

And he hates himself for having them.

Because, he knows he's not good enough for someone like you.

At first, he's content on pushing these feelings back and just remaining friends.

There's no way someone is amazing as you would love someone like him back.

But, eventually, these feelings will not be ignored.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity like he used to, he'll find ways to better himself.

You'll see him start working out again and eating healthier.

He's even stopped smoking and drinking all together.

Not only has he made an effort to improve his physical well-being.

He's making an effort to work on his mental and psychological health as well.

It may take months.

However, rest assured, he will confess you once he builds his confidence back up.

He'll still be anxious about it though.

He's still afraid of rejection.

Tennis will go through a list of all his negative traits before telling you how much he loves you.

And you'll have to stop him. Because he will go on.

Assure him that he's perfect the way he is and you love him for who he is.

But, make sure you point out how proud you are of him for making an effort to better himself.

And make extra sure you tell him you love him as often as you can.

And, don't worry, he'll say it back every time.