#dbd doctor x reader

[devoted-horror]

May I request a reader that hides behind them when she is overwhelmed or doesn’t wanna deal with people ? For Charles’s lee ray , Vincent Sinclair , the doctors and trickster (seperetly) fluff plz

a/n: it's pretty short sadly but i hope u enjoy it!! <3 anyways have u guys seen jiwoon nd yunjin's upcoming halloween cosmetics.... guys..... guys im down bad for them i fear...

includes: charles lee ray, vincent sinclair, the doctor, and the trickster.

warnings: typical slasher and dbd warnings, mentions of murder, i think it's pretty much just fluff but there might be some undertones of darker stuff?? like very very vague undertones that you'll probably honestly miss but. just stating it, in case.

CHARLES LEE RAY

Charles would, in all honesty, probably tease you for hiding behind him of all people whenever you get overwhelmed. It wouldn't be malicious teasing or anything like that, though he definitely doesn't know when to stop.

In the beginning of your relationship, he probably won't say it, but he likes that you feel safe enough to hide behind him like this.

He'll definitely act annoyed every time you hide behind him, maybe even roll his eyes, but don't let this fool you because he's shielding you away from the rest of the world and keeping you hidden from anyone who may be around.

And if you hide behind him because there's someone around that you're trying to avoid or that you just flat out don't want to deal with at the moment, then trust that Charles will take care of it.

He's not going to immediately resort to murder, so you don't have to necessarily worry about that, but depending on who it is and how they treat you, then yeah.

They may die.

It's an act of romance from him, by the way.

Nothing says 'I love you' quite like killing anyone who inconveniences you in some sort of way. He is a serial killer, after all. How else is he supposed to be romantic?

In all seriousness though, Charles does try to make you feel at ease whenever you find yourself hiding behind him.

He'll crack a few jokes, tell random stories of the past crimes he's committed, anything that'll help you feel less overwhelmed.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Vincent is the only one here who would truly understand why you hide behind him, I think. He knows what it's like to be overwhelmed, wanting to hide away from everyone. It's why he spends most of his time in the basement.

He would never judge you for this, like... at all. He actively encourages you to do it, if anything else, because he wants you to do whatever makes you comfortable.

If he can help you feel less overwhelmed, then he will. If somebody has been bothering you enough to make you feel this way, then trust that he will not hesitate to step in.

Tourist, Bo, Lester, it doesn't matter. You're his top priority more often than not these days.

Shit, he'll put himself in time out if he somehow contributes to making you feel this way. He'd feel genuinely awful if he made you feel overwhelmed, honestly.

When he's overwhelmed, he finds that absently drawing helps to calm him down. He knows that not everyone finds comfort in the same thing, but he'll definitely offer you a pencil and paper if he thinks it might help.

But if you'd rather just make yourself comfortable behind him, then he doesn't mind. He'll continue whatever he was doing with no issue.

Though... if he's in the middle of turning someone into a wax figure, he'd rather you not be around during that. And you obviously can't hide behind him when there are tourists in town, because like... obviously.

But other than that, you're free to use him as a little shield from the world whenever you need.

It makes his heart feel warm inside knowing you feel comfortable enough around him to go to him whenever you feel like this. It makes him feel like he's doing a good job at this whole dating thing.

THE DOCTOR

Herman is a bit of an enigma here because while I don't necessarily think he'd mind you hiding behind him like this whenever you're overwhelmed, he's also not the nicest person to know.

Lover or not, he isn't the type to be nice when it comes to words. He's a genius and views himself as better than everyone else, and you aren't an exception.

Personally, he's never felt overwhelmed. Like... never. He had everything he wanted growing up, and he truly never believes he's in the wrong, even if he is, so he's never had that sort of anxiety either. The only time he's ever felt anxious was when he knocked his classmate out for the first time, he thinks.

So, while he doesn't understand it on an emotional level, Herman does understand it on a scientific level. A part of him can't help but want to pick you apart and study your brain for somehow finding comfort in hiding behind him, but he doesn't.

Herman loves you. At least, he thinks this is love. A considerable amount of tolerance, if not.

This habit of yours is just one of the many things he's not sure he'll ever truly understand when it comes to you. It's... frustrating, just a bit. You're an enigma to him. An anomaly.

He's never been a big fan of anomalies. Yet here you are, hiding behind him as if he were someone who would protect you from harm.

He'd destroy the minds of the many for you, he thinks.

Being who he is, both before and after the fog, you're bound to be safe if you stick by him.

So, while Herman doesn't understand why you feel safe around him, or why he doesn't mind your behavior, he certainly isn't going to make you stop.

THE TRICKSTER

Jiwoon is... not really gonna understand why you hide behind him whenever you're overwhelmed. He thrives under attention, positive or negative, so he can't wrap his mind around how you get overwhelmed by it.

But he most thrives under your attention, so having you hide behind him every time you're overwhelmed or done with people in general really just... feeds into his ego.

So if this is before the fog, it's definitely not something you can do in public.

Jiwoon doesn't care, he really doesn't, but as an idol, dating is like... not really acceptable in the industry, and Yunjin would literally have his ass if he was caught being lovey-dovey with someone and it wasn't part of a publicity stunt of some sort.

He does understand what it's like not wanting to deal with people though, even if he does thrive under their attention. He literally killed a sasaeng because they were stalking him, so like...

I don't think he'd explicitly offer to kill someone for you if they put you in a state of being overwhelmed, mostly because he keeps his whole killer business a secret but, I mean, he would kill for you.

The moment he finds out who has you feeling so overwhelmed, be it by you telling him yourself or by other means, they will be dealt with.

And when the person who has been stressing you out so much lately is suddenly found murdered, Jiwoon is right there to help you deal with the overwhelming shock that may come with the situation.

Not long after the gruesome murder, The Trickster releases a love song with haunting background vocals. Fans and critics alike are trying to figure out who the mysterious voice is, but no dice.

No matter, fog or not, he will be a loving boyfriend and let you hide behind him however you please. Your attention, more often than not, is one of the only things that matter to him.

[soapyghostie]

Hello!! Can you write any of the dbd killers (and The Doctor) with a reader who comes back severely drugged after a trial with The Clown? How would they react?

Ayyyyy! Another request, that’s been sitting in my inbox since forever, is done! Slowly, but surely getting back into writing. This is my first time writing for Evan and Frank. Hope y'all enjoy.

The Trapper/Evan MacMillan

When Evan sees you stumbling and disoriented, Evan’s eyes widen in immediate concern. He can feel his heart pounding as he rushes to your side, a surge of worry overtaking his typically stoic demeanor. He even feels fear coursing through him as he begs you to tell him what happened as he takes your hands in his shaking ones to try and stabilize you. 

When you finally tell him about your trial with The Clown, a deep-seated rage builds within Evan. His face is contorted with a mixture of worry and rage as he imagines the sadistic torment The Clown put you through. He grabs his weapon and grips it tightly with a burning desire for revenge. You’ll have to calm him down and convince him to stay with you; if not, he’ll storm off to teach The Clown a lesson. However, you do end up convincing him to stay, although he makes a mental note to have a ‘friendly’ conversation with The Clown later. 

Evan’s large hands, usually accustomed to handling large and dangerous tools, shake as he tends to your wounds. He does his best to be gentle as he’s not used to patching up wounds, normally being the cause of them. His usually stern expression softens as his heartaches at the sight of your suffering, revealing a side that only emerges in the face of genuine concern for you. Enjoy it while you can because he rarely shows this side of himself to anyone, even to you. 

Evan then wraps his arms around you in a silent comforting hug. Y’all stay there for many minutes remaining silent and steadfast as you recover. Evan’s eyes blaze with determination, silently promising that The Clown will pay for the anguish inflicted upon you.

The Legion/Frank Morrison

When you come stumbling into Ormond after your trial, Frank freezes in shock as he witnesses your disoriented state, his usually charismatic and cocky demeanor replaced with genuine concern. He rushes to your side and throws your arm over his shoulder to support you the rest of the way to the resort. Once inside, he’ll sit you down on one of the worn out and torn couches making sure you're comfortable before sitting down next to you. 

Frank will aggressively try to get you to talk to him about what happened. I advise you not to take it personally when it comes to Frank’s aggressiveness. This is just his way of showing he cares about you and he doesn’t know how to express himself in any other way so give him some slack. Jeez y’all. (Just kidding) Anyway, when you tell him about your trial with The Clown, a spark of fury ignites in Frank as he contemplates the sadistic acts committed towards you by The Clown. His worried expression twists into a snarl, a clear sign of revenge plotting against The Clown. However, Frank (for once) actually doesn’t give in to his impulses, due to your pleas, and stays to take care of you. He’ll get his gang together and plot a revenge plan on The Clown later while you're resting. No one hurts you and gets away with it. 

Despite his constant tough exterior, you can feel Frank’s hands shake as he patches up your wounds. He’s uncharacteristically tender, his eyes betraying a depth of emotion not often seen by him. Also, he’s at your beck and call. Whatever you need Frank will get it for you. Icepack? Food? A blanket? Frank is on it. 

Frank being the overprotective boyfriend he is will remain constantly by your side while you are recovering. Hey, you never know who could come and harm you? Anyway, Frank will hold you in his embrace as long as you will allow him too, whispering reassurances while also promising safety and vengeance, ensuring that The Clown’s actions toward you will not go unpunished.

The Doctor/Herman Carter

At first Herman doesn’t recognize your state as he is too absorbed into his work, although he does greet you, hearing you stumble into his office. However, when you don’t reciprocate a greeting of your own is when Herman looks up from his work. At that moment, his clinical gaze shifts immediately to genuine concern as he takes in your disoriented state. Worry flashes across Herman’s face as he assesses the situation as he springs out of his chair to your side, guiding you to a bed to lay down on. 

When you tell Herman what happened during your trial with The Clown, his mind starts racing with analytical anger as he contemplates the sadistic experiments that you told him that The Clown inflicted on you. However, in your drugged state and inability to read your partner’s emotions, you can’t tell what kind of emotions Herman is feeling due to him keeping that professional facade he always has. Although, if you look closely enough, you will see the determination burn brightly in his eyes to avenge you. 

Surprising even himself, Herman administers caring for you with precision, his usually clinical movement now laced with genuine empathy. He patches you up no problem with little to no error. Once you are all patched up, he suggests for you to get rest as your body won't be able to heal itself properly without it. 

Herman remains as a steadfast presence, checking in on you once and awhile. If you need or want anything, he’ll get it for you. As he helps you recover, a burning desire to slow and painfully torture The Clown gives way into his mind. Maybe once you are 100% again he’ll teach that fat fuck a lesson or two.

[yanderedbdimagines]

Hello, I really like the way you are writing! So what would you think of yandere Frank, Jake, David, the doctor and the spirit (together or seperate, you decide),with an obsession (survivor) that is very sarcastic, always fighting back and always doing the opposite thing they want from her/him, just to annoy them? If you don't have time or don't want to write about this, it's ok. Just ignore this request then. Have a good night/day!

---------------

Part 1 - Part 2

Warning!: Cussing.

The Doctor

It’s truly fascinating how predictable you are. How defiant you can be. And yet, you still captivate him.

Most survivors break or start to crumble under fear. They scramble. They beg. They cry. They always end up submitting to him.

Not you. At least, not in any trial he’s ever seen you in.

You stopped fearing him long ago. Stopped treating him as the incomprehensible terror that others do. Instead, you regard him with nothing but seething defiance, as if he were some insufferable nuisance rather than the very monster that dictates your suffering. A beast whose authority you refuse to acknowledge. A force you meet head-on, teeth bared, unyielding even in the face of certain death.

He learned that quickly. Herman Carter is a man who thrives on absolute control.

And yet, here you are. Still running. Still fighting.

Still making his pulse thunder with every sharp glance, every scathing retort, every reckless refusal to submit to him. How infuriating. How utterly delightful.

His boots slam against the frozen earth, crushing brittle ice beneath his relentless pursuit. Snow scatters in his wake, the cold biting into his skin, though he hardly notices. Not when he’s so singularly focused. The crackle of electricity hums at his temples, a steady, pulsing rhythm that casts erratic shadows along the decayed walls of Ormond Lodge.

But he doesn’t need to rush. Not this time. Not when he knows you.

He has studied you. Mapped every instinct, memorized every habit, every desperate maneuver. Others are mere test subjects, their fates inconsequential, but you… You are something else entirely. Something infinitely more precious.

Which is why, when he catches you, he’ll be gentle. A rare kindness. A mercy reserved for you alone. Because he’s long since decided he’ll be keeping you.

You feel him before you hear him.

That low, insidious hum. The telltale whisper of something unnatural lurking just beyond your senses. Waiting. Watching.

But then… The unmistakable thunder of boots, pounding against the frostbitten ground, closing in like a death knell.

Your muscles coil, but not with fear. No, something much hotter surges through you, igniting in your chest, curling in your gut. Fury.

“Damn it, you son of a bitch! You ever take a day off?!”

The words rip from your throat, sharp and scathing, slicing through the frozen air with all the venom you can muster.

You should be focused on escape. Should be calculating every possible route, should be maneuvering, strategizing, weaving your way toward safety.

But no.

Because it’s him.

And the moment you hear that sound. That scrambled laugh… Something in your core twists. Warped and guttural, his amusement is fractured, distorted, bleeding through the static-laced air like the death rattle of something far beyond human. The charged atmosphere crackles against your skin, tiny jolts prickling along your spine.

Your instincts scream at you to run faster.

But instinct alone isn’t what drives you.

You hate him. With every fiber of your being, with every ragged breath, every aching muscle. With a fury so visceral it borders on something vicious, something that dares to eclipse mere survival.

And that’s why you refuse… Refuse, to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in your eyes.

Sadly, it’s amusing to him.

Most survivors, when they know they’re cornered, when they feel the predator breathing down their necks. They scream.

You? You snarl. Like a caged animal, he managed to corner you. Wild and untamed. Teeth bared, hackles raised, rage burning in your glare, daring him to take one step closer.

And Herman. He simply laughs. A low, indulgent chuckle rumbles from his chest, the sound distorted, fractured, like static slithering between radio frequencies. His massive frame looms over you. A monolith of raw strength and something far more insidious. An intelligence that does not simply crave, but calculates.

The wires threading through his scarred, muscular arms pulse with restrained energy, casting eerie, flickering light over the snow-laden ground. The dim glow accentuates every ridge and contour of his form. To the broad expanse of his shoulders, the brutal scars that mar his flesh, the twisted remnants of past experiments etched into him like a morbid masterpiece.

And you… You’re trapped. Caught between him and the rusted remains of a snow-covered trash container, your breath clouding in the frigid air. But you refuse to cower.

He sees it in your stance, in the way your fingers twitch, flexing with anticipation. Ready to shove him, strike him, fight him.

You always fight.

But he doesn’t want a struggle. Not this time.

Not when he’s spent so long learning your little habits, your little games, your little weaknesses. He’s mapped you down to the finest details. The quickening of your pulse, the shift of your weight when you prepare to run, the fire that ignites in your glare just before you lash out.

No, he wants you perfectly intact, he reminds himself.

His rough, cracked hands move with uncharacteristic care. Calloused fingers reaching, not to strike, not to seize, but to touch.

His fingertips graze your cheek, the contact featherlight, and yet… Electric. A faint, tingling charge lingers in his wake, sending shivers racing down your spine. Your breath hitches, unbidden, and his amusement hums through the air like an unstable current.

A little gift from him. A reminder.

That he is here. Inside your skin. Inside your head. Inside of everything.

He drops his weapon, and his other hand finds your wrist, curling around it. Not restraining. Just keeping you. Holding onto what is his.

"Still so stubborn," he muses, his voice a low, distorted murmur, warped through the device prying his mouth into an unrelenting grin. "So resilient."

He tilts his head, ever so slightly, his gaze unwavering as he watches the subtle rise and fall of your chest. Your breath warm against the frozen air, your heartbeat hammering just beneath his fingertips.

You are furious. Fuming. Every muscle in your body is tight, locked, poised for a strike.

And yet… He knows you’re resisting the shiver.

His breath hitches. Sharp, measured and absolutely predatory.

"I wonder, dear girl… would you still fight if you knew I wouldn’t hurt you?"

Your glare sharpens, unflinching, a firestorm of rage and defiance.

"Shut up. I know you will. Don’t fucking lie to me, you freak."

A slow drag of his finger down the warm curve of your clavicle, his touch a contradiction. Gentle, reverent, yet injected with something far more wicked.

"Amusing," he murmurs, voice dropping to something darker, richer, threaded with something too close. His lips strain against the cruel device forcing his mouth open, his fingers lingering at the dip of your collarbone, pressing down ever so softly against it. Just enough to feel the way your pulse jumps.

"Well, I believe you’d bite and claw until your very last breath."

His head dips lower, impossibly close, his voice threading into something quiet. Something intimate. "And still… I’d be delighted if you did."

His unblinking eyes widen further, reveling in the way your body betrays you, just for a second, just enough for him to feel the rush of your pulse beneath his touch.

How thrilling.

How utterly fascinating.

Your pulse, thrumming beneath his fingers. The fire in your eyes, burning even as the cold air licks at your skin. The way you refuse to bow, refuse to break, refuse to be his.

His mind drinks in every flicker of defiance, every breath, every tremor, savoring the moment as though he could carve it into permanence.

But then…

A blaring siren.

The sound rips through the frozen air, shrill and unrelenting. Self-explanatory. The exit gates.

Herman’s fluorescent eyes snap upward, his entire form going rigid. A flicker of darkness ignites in his gaze, clearly ugly and inconvenienced.

He should have known.

You feel it before you see it. The subtle shift in his grip, the tightening of his fingers around your wrist. Not enough to hurt. He would never break his most important test subject.

But enough to send a very, very clear message.

"Not yet…"

The words slither past his teeth, low and vibrating with something dangerous and final. His voice, even warped and distorted, drips with quiet promise.

But you…

You steal that moment right from underneath him.

That fraction of a second where his mind, sharp as it is, is not completely focused on keeping you still.

Your body moves before your mind can fully process it, instincts roaring to life. With one violent, wrenching twist, your wrist slips free, burning against the friction of his grip.

Then you run.

The frozen ground is slippery beneath your feet, each breath a ragged, desperate heave. Your legs scream, muscles searing with exertion, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop.

Because you know he’s behind you. Of course he is.

Boots slam against the earth, snow scattering as his towering frame cuts through the fog, relentless and determined. Electricity crackles, the very air warping around him in unstable pulses of static-laced hunger.

But you don’t dare look back.

Not until your trembling hands slam against the control panel,  then pressing down, activating it.

And then you squeeze right through, your body twisting as you throw yourself through the opening, the icy air slicing against your skin.

The Entity’s fog curls around you. Safety at last.

Herman stops in his tracks, his weapon left behind.

His form stills, his sharp, manic grin frozen in place, his breath halting in his chest.

He watches… Watches as you vanish out of his sight.

The static around him pulses almost wild and erratic, before crackling out in an abrupt, deafening silence.

He slowly exhales.

His body shudders, fingers twitching, his jaw flexing ever so slightly. A low, near-silent chuckle bubbles up from his chest, crawling past his teeth like the remnants of some dark, twisted amusement.

"Ah."

His head tilts, electrodes sparking faintly, his ever-gaping grin twitching as his unblinking eyes remain fixated on the space where you once stood.

"Fascinating."

His tongue drags across the inward-facing side of his bottom teeth, his breath slow, measured.

The laugh starts as a small, fractured sound, then grows, unraveling into a series of quiet, warbling giggles, his shoulders quaking with the force of it.

Because, deep down, he knows.

Knows this isn’t over.

Knows you belong to him, whether you realize it yet or not.

And next time?

Next time, there won’t be an exit.

The Legion (Frank Morrison)

It’s almost unfair how much fun he’s having.

You can hear him before you see him. Quick, eager footsteps crunching against damp grass, weaving between broken fences and half-rotted wood with a kind of purpose that sets your nerves alight. And then…

"Wow, for a guy who thinks he’s terrifying, you sure are easy to outrun. Need a head start?"

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. Sharp, mocking and dripping with challenge. And they hit their mark.

Frank stops mid-step.

For a moment, just a moment, there’s silence.

A shift in the air. The unmistakable hum of tension coiling tight. His head tilts slightly, the eerie, frozen grin of his mask staring back at you, his breathing even. Too even.

You always do this.

You always say things that make his fingers twitch, make his thoughts spiral, make him want to grab you and shake you and-

God, you don’t even know, do you?

Frank has been in love with you for longer than he’s willing to admit, tangled up in something sharp-edged and uncontrolled. Not because you fear him, no… Because you refuse to. Because you mock him behind his back, call him a melodramatic wannabe killer with no real bite. Because you fight him at every turn, spitting insults when others would scream, dodging his attacks when others would beg.

Because you never do what he wants. Even when he wants you to love him.

And then, with a sudden, breathless laugh, he bolts forward.

He’s fast. Too fast this time around. He’s already closing in before your mind even catches up.

“You really make this easy, y’know?” he muses, voice smooth, almost affectionate in its mocking. “The others run. They panic. But you?” A chuckle, deep and rough. “You get me fucking excited.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your heart is hammering against your ribs, your breath a frantic, uneven mess as you push forward, weaving between the abandoned fences and rotted garden beds.

A realization too late.

You don’t remember seeing him move, but suddenly, he’s there.

The knife gleams as he swings, but you’re ready, twisting at the last second, the blade missing your ribs by inches. You crash against him, shoulder slamming into his torso. He barely stumbles, fingers grazing the edge of your sleeve as you tear yourself away, sprinting into the mansion.

The mansion is dark, moonlight slanting through fractured glass, casting eerie streaks across his mask. His breath is steady, unhurried, even as he steps forward, like he already knows you won’t escape him this time. Or so he believes.

“You know,” he says, voice dipping into something softer, something meant just for you, “I think I like you best like this.”

Your fingers curl into fists, nails biting into your palms. You should be thinking of an escape route, of a way to outmanoeuvre him, but something about him- his voice, his posture, the absolute ease in the way he moves, makes your blood boil.

“You’re out of your damn mind.”

His grin is evident, even beneath the mask. “Yeah? And what’s your excuse?”

There’s no time to answer. No time to plan. Because in the next second, he moves.

The knife whistles past your shoulder, slicing through the air just as you duck, heart pounding in your throat. You spin, barely catching sight of him lunging before you bolt again, tearing through the manor’s suffocating halls.

A dead end.

Your back hits the wooden frame of a door that won’t budge. You try again, rattling the handle, but it won’t give.

Shit.

A hand slams against the wall beside your head.

The knife follows, embedding itself just inches from your throat, the force of it rattling the wood.

You barely have time to react before his free hand moves.

Not to stab. Not to strike.

To touch.

Fingers glide along your cheek, slow, deliberate, mapping the shape of your face like a sculptor learning their craft. The mask tilts slightly as he leans in, so close that you can hear his breathing from behind the thin barrier of plastic, each inhale measured, calculated, like he’s savoring this moment.

“You keep running,” he murmurs, his voice honeyed, almost gentle. If not for the feral hunger laced beneath. “But it’s pointless. You’re fucking mine.”

His fingers trail down, following the curve of your jaw, pausing just below your ear. His touch lingers, feather-light yet possessive, as if he’s memorizing the very beat of your pulse beneath his fingertips.

“You always fight,” he muses, thumb dragging over the sensitive skin at the side of your throat, pressing down just enough for you to feel the weight of it. “I love that about you. But it doesn’t change a goddamn thing.”

His other hand ghosts near the knife embedded in the wood, as if considering retrieving it. But he doesn’t. Instead, he stays right there, drinking in every flicker of defiance in your eyes, every unsteady breath you take.

“You’ll understand soon enough,” he continues, voice smooth, laced with something almost affectionate. “I don’t need to hurt you to fucking own you.”

Your stomach twists.

“You were never gonna leave this trial.”

The words settle like lead in your lungs, heavy, suffocating.

Then, the siren blares.

Frank goes still.

For a second, his entire frame tenses, a flicker of something ugly flashing through his dark eyes behind the mask. His grip tightens on the knife, shoulders rigid, jaw clenched beneath the plastic. The air around him shifts, thickens, his entire presence coiling with something volatile, something barely contained.

A low and frustrated growl. Dangerous.

Your moment.

With a sharp jerk, you break free, shoving him back with every ounce of strength left in your body. He staggers, just slightly, just enough. His fingers graze your wrist as you rip yourself away.

And then you run back outside.

The ground is slick beneath your feet, each step a frantic, desperate push forward. Your breath tears from your lungs in ragged bursts, legs burning, every muscle screaming at you to keep going. You don’t dare look back.

But you can hear him.

Boots pounding against the earth, his pace relentless, the sound of his chase weaving into the frantic rhythm of your pulse. He’s close. So fucking close. You can feel him, that oppressive weight of his presence looming behind you, thick with something possessive, something hungry.

A snarl, half growled, half laughed.

“Run, baby. Let’s see how far you’ll get.”

Your fingers slam against the control panel, almost fumbling, clearly trembling. The moment the mechanism clicks, you don’t hesitate. You twist your body and throw yourself through the opening, the icy air slicing against your skin like a blade.

The Entity’s fog curls around you. The overwhelming silence of safety.

Frank stops in his tracks.

His breath is heavy, shoulders rising and falling in deep, measured inhales. His fingers flex at his sides, grip tightening and loosening around the knife as his gaze locks onto the spot where you just stood.

Then, slowly, almost lazily, his hand drifts up to his mask.

With one slow, deliberate motion, he peels it off, revealing sharp, angular features twisted in something between amusement and frustration. His head tilts, tongue swiping across the inside of his cheek, the silver gleam of his tongue piercing catching the dim light.

His breath catches once, then twice. Halfway between a sigh and the beginning of a laugh.

And then, finally, it spills out.

Low. Soft. Amused. But laced with something deeper and darker.

“You really think you won, huh?”

His dark eyes gleam, tracking the last wisps of fog as they swallow you whole. His amusement lingers, curling at the edges of his mouth, but beneath it, something colder simmers. Something patient and almost cruel in nature.

Frank Morrison doesn’t need to scream his obsession. He doesn’t need to make it obvious. He’s smarter than that. More patient. Because love… Real love, in his mind, isn’t something rushed.

It’s something earned.

And next time?

There won’t be an exit.

Because next time, he’ll make sure you never fucking run again.

The Spirit

The air in Autohaven Wreckers is thick with rust and oil, the scent clinging to your lungs like a brand. The scrapyard looms around you, jagged metal carcasses stacked high, their hollow frames whispering in the wind. The flickering glow of distant headlights casts eerie, elongated shadows against the wreckage. The world feels abandoned. Hollow. And yet…

You are not alone.

A sharp breath. A shift in the air. A static hum reverberating against your skin, deep and raw, like something clawing at the fabric of existence itself.

Then…

A flicker.

A shape materializes in front of you. Tattered, trembling and wrong. Barely a woman. Her form fractured, as though the universe itself is unsure if she belongs. She fades in and out, her presence tethered to reality by something fragile, something desperate.

The Spirit.

Her body, once whole, now hangs in tatters. Frayed bandages coil around her body in uneven strips, the only barrier between the remnants of what’s left of her humanity and the world that tore her apart. Jagged shards of glass remain embedded in her flesh, glinting under the faint light, half-buried wounds refusing to heal, locked in a state of eternal suffering. Her skin, blueish and streaked with deep, angry gashes, bears the remnants of a violence too cruel to name. Arms and a leg cleanly severed for a torso. A past that refuses to let her go.

And her hair, wild and unkempt, floating as if weightless, frames her face entirely, shifting in the air like something alive. The movement does little to hide the torment in her features, the sorrow carved into every twitching muscle. She is agony made manifest, her form trembling with pain too vast to express, her silence a wail that never finds release.

She watches you with milky eyes. Unblinking. Shuddering with something unseen, something barely contained.

You should run.

Instead, your lips curl, a breathless laugh escaping before you can stop it. "Damn, you really need to work on your bedside manner. You know, if you actually want people to stick around."

The words linger between you like a challenge.

She jerks.

A soundless inhale, a tremor rolling through her body like a current. Her fingers twitch at her sides, jerking toward you, spasming in their hesitation. As if she wants to reach for you, but something in her is splintering apart at the thought.

She moves.

Not in steps. Not in strides. But in glimpses.

One moment, she stands before you, her form flickering at the edges. The next, the world seems to warp, space bending around her as she vanishes, only to reappear inches from your side.

Too close.

A sharp sound rattles in her throat. Her hand snaps up, just shy of your wrist. Trembling, grasping for something she does not dare to take.

You don’t see the heartbreak in her eyes. The way her expression fractures, the way her nails bite into her own palm instead, the sharp pain grounding her in the moment.

You only see the opportunity. Your body twists, muscles coiling tight before you bolt through the wreckage.

She doesn’t follow. Not at first. She stands there, frozen, as if trying to understand why you always do this. Why you always run. Why you never let her get close willingly.

A whisper of sound.

The scrapyard hums with absence, with tension, with the sickening knowledge that she is near.

A gust of wind howls through the wreckage. Metal groans. A shadow shifts.

You barely have time to react before she is there. Only for you to spot the hatch.

Hope slams into your chest like a hammer, but there is no time for hesitation. You dive for it, breath catching in your throat as your fingers grasp the edge. The moment your body slips through, the world above disappears into nothingness.

And she?

She watches.

A ragged breath rattles in her lungs, her body trembling with something awful, something aching. Her fingers twitch, curling toward the empty space where you had just been.

You got away. Again.

She was so close.

You always do this. Always fight. Always push her away.

And the worst part?

You don’t even realize how much it destroys her.

[deadbydangit]

Hii♡ I wanted to request a story with Doctor, Knight, Deathslinger, Oni, and Clown. Where the reader gets a rock thrown at them by another survivor, and it hits them in the head, making them pass out. Thank you in advance ☆

I believe I can do this. I'm going to simplify it a bit so it's a reader who got hurt. Since my limit is three I'm going to pick three of them. I hope you enjoy. Thank you.

When Their Reader S/O Gets Hurt

Deathslinger, Doctor, Knight

Deathslinger

Caleb loves you dearly.

And he'll tell you that everyday.

You're his greatest treasure.

And he wants you to know that you can rely on him.

But he also wants to make sure you aren't overly reliant on him.

Don't get him wrong! He'll always be there for you.

But he doesn't want you to become too dependent.

"What if somethin' were ta happen and I wasn't around darlin'?"

He wants to know that you're able to fend for yourself if need be.

So, if you fall and get hurt don't expect them to run up to you and coddle you.

Unless you're seriously injured, Caleb expects self-dependency from you.

You're an adult, you know how to take care of yourself.

He can't see himself with someone who's overly needy or overdramatic.

The table is completely turn if somebody is hurting you though.

If it's someone he thinks you can handle by yourself, he'll stand back but be on guard.

Heck, he'll be super proud if you knock that person out.

"He's all bark and no bite. Ya show em' darlin'"

Full on cheering you on from the sidelines.

If it's someone he knows for a fact you can't handle, he'll step in.

Caleb's a smart man, he knows you can't take on someone like Micheal or Kazan on your own.

He has his spear gun pointed in their face the moment they lay a hand on you.

"Ya think about this. Ya lay a hand on them and I'll shoot this here gun so far down your throat you won't know what hit ya."

"Now get."

He can be very intimidating when he wants to be.

And he wants to be intimidating for you. Because he would never want anything to happen to you.

Doctor

Herman can be detached from situations at times.

Very rarely is he out with you.

He spends the majority of his time in his lab or in trials.

He never considered the possibility of someone hurting you.

One, because he's too busy with his latest experiment or torture.

Two, because he sees you as such a nice and wholesome person that hurting you is out of the question.

Anyone who's willing to love him is either insane or an angel.

And he knows you're not insane. He's tested it.

So when you came to his lab all beat up, he was beyond shocked.

Like, at a loss for words shocked.

He's not crying, but it almost looks like he might.

He feels incredibly guilty and stupid for not being there for you.

And for thinking the beasts of the realm would be able to appreciate someone like you.

This will send him into an unbelievable spiral of rage.

Sparks will literally be radiating off of him because he is so angry.

He'll patch you up the best he can, then leave without another word.

Herman will be back in about an hour or so with said person who hurt you.

Well, at least with their head and maybe several other limbs.

He won't tell you what he did. Just assuming isn't pleasant.

He will give you the head as a get well soon gift, because he thinks that makes everything better.

He might be a genius but he has the emotional intelligence of a goldfish.

But you can't deny the gesture (albeit gruesome) is sweet.

And he'd only do it for you.

Knight

He's the complete opposite of the others.

He will be doting on you like royalty.

Because, to him, you are.

You're Tarhos' sweet prince/princess.

And you will be treated as such.

He frequently calls you my lord/lady.

It doesn't matter if you're actually royalty or not. He's intent on making you feel as if you were.

Did you fall and get hurt?

"Foolish prince/princess."

He laughing.

But he is concerned.

"Shall I carry you?"

Even if you say no, he's going to pick you up.

"What is a knight if he cannot protect his lord/lady?"

"Allow me."

It's almost smothering.

If you want to take care of things yourself, you'll really have to prime him for that.

He isn't used to not serving someone.

Someone laid a hand on you?

How dare they!

"They shall pay for their insolence."

He may seem cold and callous at times.

But he's extremely protective over what is his.

And you're his.

And no one dares mess with what is his.

"I shall avenge you. I shall not allow those heathens to dishonor you and your name."

If you tell him it's not worth it he'll dismiss your claims.

"Nonsense. Anyone who is foolish enough to lay a hand on you must be punished severely."

If you keep telling him no he'll stay.

But you best believe his men are on that person when your back is turned.

And that person will never mess with you again.

Tarhos will see to it.

[lumierexfics]

Praise kink for the doctor and breeding for trickster seperetly with a fem reader?

• LIVESTREAM NAME : The stimulus must be kept active at a convulsive level !

LIVESTREAM DESCRIPTION : Herman Carter sees someone in the trial that he never thought he’d see again— his favorite subject!

★ STARRING : The Doctor Herman Carter , Fem! Reader

‼️ CONTENT WARNINGS : MDNI 18+ , Second POV, Female genitalia for Reader, OOC! Herman Carter, Semi-lore accurate, Restraints, Blindfolding, Referencing to experiments, Praise kinks.‼️

<< previous [ao3 link] next >>

Your breath hitched seeing him—why and how was he here? The numerous thoughts circle around in your head, crouching behind a wall; the familiar shock travels through your body causing a slight yelp to escape from your lips.

Something was building inside of your abdomen that you tried to ignore since he was trying to hunt you and your teammates down. Your brows furrowed together, the beads of sweat dribbled down your forehead and neck; another shock came due to your mishandling of trying to connect wires together to finish the generator. Your hands finished connecting the wires together and wiping the dirt and grime on your pants to try and clean your hands.

You walked around the area, silently hoping to not run into him due to your past of him being an ex who tried to see how many times he could make you climax. The wind bursted into the air, your eyes saw as a claw descended and carried a small figure into the foggy clouds above.

You continued walking around, trying to find another generator—despite not touching a generator, a shock ran through your body. Hearing the familiar blood rushed through your heart, you had gone limp for a moment. You felt his shoulder against your abdomen as he walked with you over shoulder—solving generators became one of the last things that came to your mind.

Gasps escaped your lips, feeling his rough hands tightened the strip of cloth blindfolding you. You shivered underneath the cold examination table, the leather restraints didn’t do anything good to soothe your inner turmoil.

You squirmed a bit, feeling the cold blades of rusted scissors cutting off your shirt and pants. His thumb rubbed your clothed clit causing a groan to your lips.

“It’s been a while,” he explained, despite his voice being shrill. “Let’s revisit our experiments?”

His thumb pressed harder—feeling the slight electrical shock through your underwear towards sensitive skin, a groan escaped your lips.

“Is that a yes?” He pulled back his thumb. “Use your words like a good subject.”

“Ye…yes,” you replied.

“Good girl,” he replied. “Let’s begin.”

The feeling of cold scissors cutting off the remaining clothes from your skin, you shivered at the sudden breeze. One of his hands remained on your side, the other hand rubbed your inner thighs; rough skin that teased your throbbing clit. Your groans echoed in the examination room as he inserted one by one into you, in and out.

“So good,” he praised. “You can take more. I know you can, good girl.”

You had become undone—a mess in his wide and glossy eyes. He had been keeping count of you climaxing, just by his fingers.

“We need something more,” he said. “The results are the same.”

You could hear a belt unbuckling with fabric falling down. A pleasured groan escaped from your lips, his hand rested above your area and he thrusted in and out; his thumb still rubbing your clit.

“Good girl.” A distorted laughter escaped his lips. “You’re such a good girl for being my subject again.”

Every word that you tried to muster never escaped from your lips as they only came out in broken gasps and moans.

[ ↦ CLICK HERE FOR EVENT ! ]

[user16121215]

Should You Fight Back

A very short head cannon list about which killers would prefer a more feisty SO and which would rather you behave. In no specific order.

TW - Abuse (Mental and Physical)

Trapper : His joy is your misery. The more you resist the more he gets to crush that little fighting spirit of yours. He doesn't have any interest in someone who could overpower him as he likes to be the one in control and will quite easily lose his temper if you manage to get the better of him.

Wraith : You've got about 0.02 seconds to cease your bratty behavior before he has to beat some sense into you. This man puts so much on the line by not immediately killing you so the least you could do is show some respect.

Hillbilly : Aww please don't :(

Yeah okay sure he miiiight bonk you across the head a few times but come on now, there's no need for all that kicking and screaming. Just let the poor boy hold onto you for a lil bit.

Doctor : The good doctor revels in the challenge of discipline. Unlike certain uncouth killers who enjoy your endless torment, Herman likes to see his work lead to something and will take joy in molding you from that feisty flame into a more docile ember. And then he'll see how far he can push you before you break again.

Huntress : Anna takes pity on the vulnerable, the small, the weak. The more you act like a lost child, the more likely she is to show you any kind of affection, misguided as it may be.

Michael Myers : The man does like the challenge of a difficult survivor but you can't really put up much of a fight when you don't know he's there until it's too late. He does however really like your pitiful struggle as he has you grasped by the throat with the life fading from your eyes.

GhostFace : Yes please.

Just as much of a masochist as he is a sadist and wants you to fight back with everything you've got. Don't confuse a few landed scratches as a chance to escape. He'll let you fight him for his own enjoyment, but just know that he will always end up on top and you'll be butchered without a thought if you take a step too far.

[cinnamoon-roll2]

The Famished Doctor and Their Devoted Ghost

Masterlist

Synopsis.

Danny takes on a new murder case for the Roseville Gazette that people presume is his, but he's never taken the organs of his victims. His curiosity gnaws at him; he needs to know who this new homicidal partner he shares the town with is and who this new girl that's making him doubt about his future plans is.

ao3 Link. | Pinterest Link. | Playlist Link.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the doctor’s practice

Chapter 2: Um… An awkward first meeting

Chapter 3: So… Wanna be friends…?

Chapter 4: Could you be him?

Chapter 5: Let's fuck her up.

Chapter 6: In the middle of the night, she feeds.

Chapter 7: Outside your door with my heart in my hands for ya

TBC

The doctor's office (Asks and more)

[fishyvamp]

Danny: You saw them, too, huh?

Herman: Yeah

Danny: ...

Danny: Is it weirdly hot?

Herman: Yeah.

Danny: Okay good I thought it was just me

Disclaimer I have been holding back, so be warned I kind of took the gloves off so um... Mind the tags.

Okay but hear me out, Ghostface x Doctor X Fog Monster!reader. these two are sitting around the killer campfire talking about their thoughts the tension finally broken. As they talk about not being sure if they wanted to be blight or be his survivor. Going on and trying to talk it out. Meanwhile, you are in the woods watching them listening, something intriguing about their words.

You purposely get caught in one of The Doctor's traps. Your body is ensnared painfully before Herman comes to check on his trap. Dragging your hulking body to his lab chaining you to the table. The shadows of your body falling off. You're not the most unique monster he's strapped to the table, he knows a bit about your species, but he's never caught one before so he's curious to see how you'll react to painful stimuli. So he's just mindlessly setting the operating theater up Ghostface appearing in the window of the observation floor.

You just smirk giving the masked killer a wink as your form breaks apart getting out of your bindings and swirl around both, both of them startled as they're pulled from their respective spots. Glowing red eyes and a blind white grin leering at them through the thick fog. "A little birdie once told me that you both wanted to experiment." Your voice surrounds them from all sides. "I can be whatever you want, have whatever you want. All you need to do is ask." You purr.

The two killers frozen turning to each other as they're set on the ground the fog still swirling around them. As if sensing their confusion your fog pulls in tight forming two solid naked bodies one of a beautiful woman and the other of a strong and attractive man. Both bodies walk around touching the two in a seductive manner, your feminine body pressing tightly against the doctor's chest letting him get a good look at your cleavage while your masculine body comes up from behind Ghostface one hand grabbing his hip, another his chin. Your tongue licking along the length of his mask.

Taking the hit you can feel it, feel what they actually want. Both forms growing larger more and more monstrous traits doting your bodies. Teeth growing too sharp, smiles too wide, extra eyes and mouths blooming on your body, Tentacles erupting from your backs. You feel both of their hearts racing under your grip their forms now dwarfed by your own. Your feminine form picks the doctor up placing him on the exam table you were once strapped to your teeth tearing at the fabric of his pants and ripping the crotch of his pants. Why the fuck did he find that hot? His dick was already hard as you mouth him through his briefs.

Your masculine form pins Danny up to a wall tentacles undressing him slowly as you lick along his throat biting the mask and taking it off with your teeth discarding the useless thing as you nip and lick along his lust-drunk face. "Such pretty boys both forms coo. Masculine form grinding your large and girthy tapered tip cock rubbing against his heat. "Such nasty boys." Your forms take on more monstrous traits. Your feminine form sprouting webbed wings and your masculine form's cock changing from stiff to prehensile writhing and eager, a groan escaping your lips.

Both men whimpering, feminine form pulling out The Doctor's cock feeling your long tongue wrap around it, jaw open wide; sharp jagged grazing the dark sensitive skin. Herman's knuckles lighten as he grips the edge of the exam table. His cock drooling in your mouth. He felt like a damn virgin with how close he was and you've barely started on him. The masculine form turning your head pausing your ministrations on Danny to grin at Dr. Carter, "There is no shame, relax. I'm here to make you both feel good. Give in." Voice turning dark, a chuckle rumbling in your chests feeling them both shiver. "Good boys."

Claws tearing Ghostface's pants open tentacles prodding at his tight puckered hole. "Relax." Your male form purrs trying to bite back the moan; feeling Herman cum right down your feminine form's throat, but you don't stop working the softening cock with your mouth encouraging it to drag on to an almost painful level you'd stop if it wasn't for the good doctor thinking about how he didn't you to. How he wanted more. Your tentacles wrap around those strong beefy legs letting him cage your head as you still yourself. Purring around his length.

Danny whined feeling you pulling him apart, grunting as your tentacle cock in, slowly, centimeter by centimeter enjoying the frustrated whimpers that fell from his lips. "You want this sweet boy, I can hear your thoughts." You whisper against his ear. "You love the way it hurts, you love the way it curls as I push in. I can hear those secret thoughts. I am whatever you want me to be. I am whatever you crave me to be." The words a growl against his ear causing him to clench along your length. "I know you want so much more and I can promise it'll be everything you've wanted."

Gasping for breath he feels you swell something round and bulging pushing inside him causing his eyes to roll back, causing his already neglected cock to drool more. Spilling down his length. The two killers enjoy the monstrous attention they seemingly attracted.

[fandom-go-round]

This but with regular fem reader plz

For trickster and the doctor (seperate)

Soulmate au with a fem reader

It can be as filthy as you want

Fluff to nsfw plz

Soulmate AU: Every wound you get shows up on your soulmate

Warnings: Sex, Sexual Situations, Kidnapping. Canon Typical Violence, Blood, Character Death (Reader), Outdoor Sex, Public Sex, Overstimulation

Trickster:

Finding his soulmate was never a priority for Ji-Woon. Sure, it would have been fun to find someone to share his life but the more he gets into ‘making his music’, the more he avoids it. To share the spotlight with someone else? To have to hide the part of him that loves to kill? No thank you. The thought of a soulmate leaves once he’s taken by the Entity, this is much more fun than trying to find “the one”.

Of course, the minute he stops looking is when he finds you. It’s almost funny, watching the hook slam into your shoulder and feeling his own rip open. All the Trickster can do it laugh, bent over his knees howling with laughter. Oh he’s pissed, don’t get him wrong, but the pain mixing with adrenaline is intoxicating. He watches as the Entity takes you away, feeling his body burn hot and then numb, before evening out. It makes him wonder if all this was meant to be; the new world he found himself in. It doesn’t matter but it does make him think.

He can’t stay away from you now that he knows you’re his. Ji-Woon isn’t surprised by how possessive he is but he’s shocked by the intensity of the emotions. He wants to be the only one to hunt you, the only one to hook you, the only one to kiss you and push you against a wall. The last one is something he can control and he does it without thinking, grabbing your arm and kissing you hard. You freeze before wrapping your arms around his neck, gasping.

Trickster fucks you hard and fast, your legs wrapped around his waist and head thrown back. You take everything he gives you and more, not hesitating to dig your nails into his back or beg him to move faster. It feels like he’s drowning in you, the fire in his veins burning hotter every time you moan. He didn’t realize having a soulmate would feel this way and now that he’s had you he’s never going to let you go.

Doctor:

Herman still dreams about finding his soulmate, even here in the Entity’s world. He’s more romantic than he lets on and the idea of finding you and falling in love is appealing. He’s always tried to find a ‘work-life balance’ and if he had a cute little soulmate to take home, that would help his ideal. Alas, the likelihood of finding you in so low; there just aren’t a lot of people here compared to the normal world.

The first time he shocks you and you freeze, body going taught, his does the same, the two of you locking eyes. It’s the longest few seconds of his life, understanding flashing across both of your faces. Once the pain has worn off the Doctor doesn’t know what to do, staring with wide eyes. You have no such hesitation, turning to run as fast as you can into the cabin. He watches you go, lost in thought until a generator backfires in the distance. He would go find you, just not right now.

Herman is more patient than some of the other killers, at least when it comes to this. He’s content to let you watch him, let you figure out what you want. You can’t seem to look or stay away, gravitating towards him when you’re in trials together. He doesn’t want to push but every time you get close enough to touch it’s maddening. He hopes you make your mind up soon because he’s going to lose it.

He fucks you like he wants to drown in you. He shoves his face into your neck, the metal cold against your skin and a contrast to his hot breath. His cock stays deep inside of you, only giving deep thrusts and pulling out as little as possible. Herman wants you to never be empty again, to dream of his cock when it’s not in you. The more you beg the faster he loses control; he can never say no to you.

[l0sercat]

Hellooo! May I please request The Hillbilly, The Doctor and The Oni from DBD with a reader who is very shy and when she finally speaks she has a rather high-pitched voice she is insecure about? Make it fluffy, if you are so kind! Thank you 🙏🏻

I'm so sorry anon for getting this ask done late like by almost a year 🙇🏻‍♀️ My mental health has been declining lol

Killers with a shy and insecure fem!reader

Oni

He's had his eye in you for a while, but you would always be so shy and quiet

Only sparing him glances, when you finally got the courage to speak to him he wasn't surprised that you had a soft high pitched voice

He thought it was endearing and cute, but he soon learned that you never spoke because of your voice he was confused

Why were you so insecure? Your voice suits you, it's cute and he can't help but pinch at your cheeks slightly

Kinda like cuteness aggression but in his own way and toned down a bit!

The Doctor

Lowkey a little annoyed you won't speak to him, but finds it cute how shy you are

Always teasing you, when you finally get the courage to talk he giggles at how high your voice is

He thinks it cute, slightly annoying, but cute and he teases you for being insecure about it

When you get mad and sad at him for making fun of you and your insecurity, he pulls the toxic bf move and is wrapping his arms around you from behind slightly rocking your body and whispering apologies

He doesn't mean them fully, but anything to get you to forgive him s that way he can go back to bullying you <3

Will slightly shock you with his electricity to hear your high pitched yelps, he thinks their so cute!

The Hillbilly

He was sad that you had yet to speak to him, but he never noticed the way you looked at him wanting to speak but to shy to do so

So when you finally spoke he was ecstatic, *happy Hillbilly noises*

Your voice was so cute and perfect! He absolutely loved hearing you talk! But learning that you were insecure about it saddened him :(

He understands being insecure though, so he is their to comfort you and verbally tell you that your voice is amazing is his own special way

[mentos-or-mentoes]

Dead by Daylight killers with a reader that throws sausages when threatened.

(first of all don't ask. Second of all i can't sleep with this shit just floating around in my head).

Wesker, The Oni, The Doctor and Ghostface.

Ghostface

He was chasing what he thought to be just another survivor.

He almost caught you when you did something, unexpected to say the least.

To say that he was surprised when he got a glizzie straight to the face is an understatement.

He was pure confusion in that moment.

Like first of all: How the fuck, did you get a hotdog into the entities realm? Second of all: Why the fuck did you throw it at him?

He keeps chasing you after a second or 2 of him just standing there, processing a hotdog being thrown straight to the face.

He's definetly keeping the hotdog for a stupid selfie when he catches you.

He starts hanging around you just because he wants to scare the shit out of you to see if you'll do it again.

The Doctor

He's pretty good at predicting what survivors will and won't do.

Untill they have a hotdog apparently.

He was amused, when you threw a hotdog at his face.

What else would you do when desperate? That kept being on his mind for the rest of the trial.

You're 2x more likely to get kidnapped by him when not in a trial because of having a hotdog at your disposal.

Might fry the hotdog infront of you with his electricity, before frying you with his electricity, that is.

If he spares you then he'll talk to you to learn more and then well you might become friends

Doesn't mean he'll go easy on you in trials though.

The Oni

Kazan does NOT take disrespect lightly.

So to say you basically became a walking corpse the second you threw a sausage at him mid chase is an understatement.

Like really. In the face of the most brutal samurai in all of history. Your first reaction is to throw a sausage at him.

to say you got morried even if he didn't have permission would be very honest.

Because he will not care if any others die, as long and the sausage throwing survivor dies that trial, he's happy.

No matter how close you are or will likely ever become, Kazan will not be forgiving you.

Wesker

Mans feels DISRESPECTED but also amused.

Like its amusing how dumb of an attempt your ''distraction'' was as well as how badly it failed.

But SERIOUSLY, why the fuck did you disrespect this man so hard, by knocking his glasses off with a god damn glizzie.

Most people atleast punch him and then die but noooooo you did at long range.

After the trial he does start wondering just how you even got the sausage in the first place.

Will likely ask you later on.

Requests are open if you want to request a weird headcanon or fic like this or anything normal

[fornenamiyo]

At first I was like “mmm ✨Doctor✨” as a joke

But bro

I don’t think it’s a joke anymore

[slashersdaddy]

Types of boyfriend for dbd Chucky human form the doctor and trickster? Maybe Tiffany doesn’t exist or they broke up and she’s fine with it.

Maybe Chucky can turn into doll or human whenever he wants and scars the reader a lot?

Type of Boyfriend! I love this type of blurb! For sure! Human!Chucky: Chucky is an interesting boyfriend- he will scare you to get you to lean on him for comfort; but he will also kiss on you and treat you like royalty on his best days. However on his bad days chucky is less affectionate-outwardly at least, youll find little treats around your place, especially if you forget to eat alot; he wants to assure your eating, even if hes in a sour mood. If you are someone who sufferers from RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria) He will try to avoid talking to you harshly when hes mad. Will call you a bitch/aff He doesnt care that its an insult to most, its his affection for you. DBD Doctor: Hes at best obsessive- at worst a yandere. He likes you by his side, if something like his work pulls him away he will want you to remain at home, where he can check on you via a cat camera he has installed. He will run more ~spicy~ Experiments on you, VS his rather... morbid ones. Or he will run experiments to see how to make you need him, since he doesn't want you to leave. He will also bring you gifts, but his are often practical- in his mind. A scented candle to relax you, a soft blanket to make you feel safe. all of his gifts are to create a carefully crafted version of himself and your life together that makes you associate him with 'Safety' even if he hurts you on accident. DBD Trickster: He LOVES to spoil you, he'll sing lil songs to you and hold you while you cook, hes spoiled, and wants you to always give him the attention he craves, being a former K-Pop idol, but due to his sadistic nature he will also hurt you, little affectionate (but painful) bites, scratches anything to prove to others your HIS and no one elses. He will be affectionate if you really need it but otherwise he will tease and taunt you relentlessly

[s4ndb0xfung1]

The Doctor. / Herman Carter NSFW Headcanon 18+ MINOR DNI

here is some headcanons I created for The Doctor, this is the first time I actually wrote something for a franchise I like. hope you all like and if you got any criticism I can take to heart.

has an oral fixation - will continually put his fingers into your mouth, you know he is in the moot when he starts to move his middle and pointy finger in your mouth. He sometimes holds the back of your head and pumps his fingers in and out of your mouth making you drool and gag. while laughing maniacally.

likes to use toys he thinks it gives more freedom to both explore but also a way for him to have a more stable data collection method. He can easily write down your reactions or just enjoy the show.

He likes to DIY toys as well. Mostly with foreign medical equipment but he has been a prick and put a flashlight into you so he could make it light up when shocking you.

Electroshock should of course be a given due to his power but he has a habit of starting out slow to then give you a shock by turning up the electricity for just a few seconds just to go back down again.

He likes to shock you! (I'm a fucking comedian)

He likes the position of “mating press” it gives him both the power to rail into you but also he likes how deep he gets. It's a form of power trip too with how he likes to force you to be more flexible whether you like it or not.

if he is too lazy he would let you sit on his lap, and do all the work.

he would actively spank you if you don´t go fast enough, he even zaps your more sensitive areas to make you go faster. even laugh when you whine. He does enjoy your discomfort and you can hear a faint laugh when you voice that discomfort.

[g0blintears]

Reader with the doctor who is clumsy and tends to get hurt and not know it till they are bleeding? Maybe they have a high pain tolerence ? Fluff plz

Electrifying Wounds

The Doctor/Herman Carter x Killer! Frankenstein! Reader

Author’s Note: Sorry this took a lot longer to get out! Vecna was released yesterday and I had been playing all day 💀 But I hope this turned out okay!! I’m still new to requests and I was going back and forth on if I should write this as a oneshot or imagine, so I wrote a oneshot. I kinda changed the prompt a bit since I wasn’t quite sure if the reader should be a killer or a survivor and I had recently watched Lisa Frankenstein so I ended up with this LOL so I hope this is okay! And ngl, I might do a part 2 for this since I kinda dig the idea of a The Doctor x Frankenstein… so yeah! My apologies if Herman is a lil OOC…this is my first time writing for him :’)

Emerging from the clouds of black fog, you found yourself back at the campground. With a yawn leaving your lips, you stretched out your aching muscles with a satisfied ‘pop!’

Another trial had commenced and you had found yourself at a place called Autohaven Wreckers. Usually when the entity would send you to maps that didn’t work in your favor, you would typically let the survivors run free while accepting that you’d be punished.

It wasn’t as if you felt the pain of her tendrils anyways.

Seeing as how you were the living embodiment of a bunch of body parts sewn together, you didn’t necessarily ‘feel’ pain. So you usually never minded letting survivors run free.

However, you had been feeling rather bloodthirsty for a while, so when you spawned into the dark green atmospheric map, you gripped onto your weapon tightly and went out hunting for the group of survivors.

The trial was difficult at first, but overall you still came out on top. While the survivors were well coordinated, rushing through generators with their toolboxes and splitting up the moment you appeared, you, on the other hand, were determined enough to slaughter their blood all over the wrecked cars.

Stalking, chasing, and hooking, you managed to end the trial with three kills out of four which wasn’t too bad at all, but you would have prefered to have all the survivors dead.

Oh well. The trial was over and you had satisfied your own craving.

Now you were tired beyond belief and you were just about ready to flop onto your mattress and have a well deserved nap.

Walking down the pebbled path, you turned your attention over to the towering trees ahead. You were about to make your way through the forest to retire into your cabin until you heard a deep chuckle come from behind you, causing you to look over your shoulder.

A few feet away from you wearing a white ripped up lab coat over a white collared shirt and black tie, stood a man with a wired head contraption that peeled open his eyes and mouth.

You weren’t one to really interact with the other killers. In fact, a lot of the other killers in the realm were rather hostile. However, this killer in particular was one that you found yourself rather attracted to, and as the two of you continued to interact within the time you spent in the realm, you could sense that he felt that same bond.

So once you caught sight of the familiar man, you stopped.

“Oh, hey Dr. Carter.” You greeted, rubbing your eyes tiredly, “How’s it going?”

Stalking closer to you, the man didn’t give you an answer. Instead, he let out an amused giggle.

“[Name], did a survivor strike you again?” His raspy voice asked, eyes sparking with mischief as he watched you tilt your head in confusion.

“Huh? No, why do you ask?”

The man didn’t respond, he merely brought a hand to your shoulder and traced his finger down your back and around an oozing puncture wound. With electricity flowing through his fingers, the doctor gave a quick zap to the bleeding hole, earning himself a small shiver from you.

“Owe.” You muttered, albeit, in a monotone voice.

It was obvious that you didn’t truly feel the pain of that shock. If it had been anyone else to receive that much electricity, they would’ve convulsed on the spot. However, you didn’t. Instead, you treated Herman’s shocks as if they were a small tickle to the touch.

It amused him greatly, and the man couldn’t help but show his delight by admiring your being. Bringing his hand to his face, Herman observed the blood that covered his fingers. It was a dark inky black, barely even considered red at that point. It was truly something to marvel at. Blood didn’t flow through your veins like an ordinary being, yet here you stood able to walk and talk just like him.

You were truly the embodiment of the first sci-fi monster.

The doctor could feel a his heart beat rapidly against his chest. Letting out another fit of laughter, Herman watched as you brought your own hand to your shoulder and touched the area where his fingers had just lingered.

“Huh.” You voiced, “I didn’t even know that was there. I must’ve gotten it when I fell over my missing arm and had landed on a leaking pipe.” Scratching your head, you continued with a pout. “I knew I should’ve burned a map offering. Autohaven is just too cluttered for me.”

Herman’s laugh continued. His body shook as a deep fit of laughter rippled through his being.

Oh, how you were his favorite specimen in all of the realm.

With his fingers still sparking with impulsive shocks, the man held out his hand to you, “Shall we go back to my cabin? I would love to stitch up your wounds.”

You looked down at his hand for a moment.

You really wanted to rest. But at the same time, Dr. Carter was the only being who you truly had any ‘feelings’ for. His electricity enticed you, and gazing into his glowing white eyes, you could tell that he knew that too.

Were you just another experiment to him? Many would say so, but as you stood in front of the man, watching as he held out a hand towards you, his eyes beckoning you to take his hand, a part of you believed that he felt something for you as well.

So you took his hand, shivering as you felt electricity run through your body.

Letting out another deep chuckle, Herman took your hand and brought your fingers to his lips. Placing a chaste kiss to the top of your skin, Herman gripped your hand tightly before leading you back to his cabin.

[deadbydangit]

I completely understand if this is off limits but could you please do an imagine of The Doctor, The Clown and The Singularity comforting a rape survivor? It doesn't need to be explicit, as a survivor myself I just want to see how my comfort characters might react

I think I can do that. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long. I've looked at this request multiple times, I was so unsure how to handle it and word it. I didn't want to come off as uncaring or insensitive, that was never my intention. I hope enjoy. And hey, you're amazing, I hope you know that. Side note, I call Singularity it because there is No confirmed gender and, as far as I know, it's not a living creature.

Comforting a Reader who is a Survivor of SA

Doctor, Clown, Singularity

Doctor

Herman is good at a lot of things.

He's highly intelligent, well spoken, and a well-rounded individual, you know, minus the whole killing part.

One thing he isn't good at, it's comforting people.

But that doesn't mean he isn't going to try.

He fancies himself somewhat of a psychologist.

Many other denizens of the realm would disagree, but their opinions don't matter right now.

You are what matters right now.

If something that's very traumatic to you, he knows that.

He wants you to tell him everything.

It may come off as insensitive, but he's really not trying to be.

Herman just wants to gather all the facts before he attempts to help you.

He'll sit down with a pen and paper, jotting down everything you say.

And several days later, you'll walk in on him sitting on a chair and across from him will be a couch for you to lay on.

He's been researching, researching everything he could about talk therapy and ways to help you through this.

If you're the type who has nightmares, rest assure.

Herman will be beside you the whole night.

And he gives the best hugs ever.

If you don't want to hug? No problem!

He'll be there if you want to talk.

He's an excellent listener and, despite having the deep urge to offer advice, he won't offer any unless asked to.

If this happened before he was around, he'll be sensible and not blame himself entirely.

But if it was in the realm, he'll hate himself everyday. Hate that he wasn't there to protect you.

He'll never say that out loud.

Sometimes his methods are a little unorthodox.

"Dissecting a human brain always cheers me up? Would you like to try?"

"I have Dwight tied up here. Would you like to hit him with a baseball bat? Help relieve some of your stress?"

Once he realizes his preferred activities aren't exactly calming to you, he'll flat out just ask you what you want to do.

As long as it isn't some dangerous or self-destructive activity, he's all for it.

Even if it's something he doesn't like to do.

You like to bake? He'll be right there with a chef's hat.

You like to sing? He won't be singing, but he'll certainly listen.

You do some sort of art therapy? He won't be drawing pleasant things, but he'll draw with you.

He'd do anything for you.

Clown

Kenneth also isn't good at comforting people.

Unlike Herman, he's not a genius.

But he knows when someone is in distress.

He's aware when someone is suffering.

And usually, he likes when people suffer.

But, not you.

He hates to see you suffering.

If this is the first time he's hearing of this, he's going to be angry.

Not at you.

At the person who hurt you.

He'll immediately demand to know the details.

"Isn't it obvious! I'm gonna kill the fucker!"

"Do you want me to bring back their head or something else?"

They aren't in a realm with you.

Which will frustrate Kenneth, but he knows better than to continue on.

You need comfort right now.

And he won't leave you when you're in need.

"You know I've witnessed it in person."

"The circus, it wasn't all smiles and fun."

He witnessed some very awful things happen at that circus.

Carney's aren't exactly known to be nice people.

"I didn't say anything or do anything. Fucking haunts me to this day."

"I'm not going to make that mistake again."

He doesn't know much about caring for other people.

But for you, Kenneth will learn to be the best damn therapist you could ask for.

One thing he's really good at is giving you space when you need it.

He's never too far away though.

He's always with an earshot, always ready to come back to your side when you're ready for him.

And if you don't want to talk? Don't sweat it.

He's perfectly fine sitting in silence with you.

He'll also make sure you don't turn to drugs or alcohol.

"That shit doesn't solve anything."

"Trust me, I know."

He also knows that sitting around and doing nothing isn't good for you.

He won't force you, but he'll highly suggest you guys go take a walk together or something.

"What, you think sitting in the dark all day is gonna help you? Nah!"

He'll make extra sure to keep a hand or arm on you if you feel comfortable that way.

If that's what makes you feel more protected, more safe to come out, then he'll do it.

Besides, everyone knows not to mess with Kenneth unless you want your fingers on a keyring.

Well he isn't the best at caring for people, he's very good at picking up on people's emotions.

"Clowns instinct."

Whatever that means.

So he knows when you're going through a particularly hard time.

And it kills him to see that.

He's going to get you through this. He'll be right by your side the whole time.

Singularity

It doesn't understand what's going on.

Humans are still quite a mystery to it.

Huxly is very aware that humanity is deeply flawed.

That they do terrible things to each other just for namesake.

Just because they desire control or power or status or wealth.

All of those things are inconsequential and do not lead to the perfect existence.

The perfect existence, that's you.

Someone kind, intelligent, caring, all the things humanity should be.

So to hear that somebody did something so terrible to the perfect existence?

"Inconceivable."

"All outcomes for this scenario do not compute."

It just doesn't get it.

It's first instant will be to find the individual responsible for your distress.

"Seeking to eliminate target."

But that isn't possible.

"Searching databases for most logical solutions."

Again, Huxly isn't human.

So, naturally, it doesn't really understand human emotions.

He'll start walking away.

What it lacks in the caring department, it more than makes up for in providing comfort.

It knows what you like, what you dislike, what makes you the happiest when you're feeling down.

It can sense a shift in your behavior.

Huxly knows when you are feeling the worst.

It will be ready with all your favorite items in what seems like me or seconds.

"You are experiencing discomfort. Providing nutritional substances and warmth aids."

It got your favorite snacks and blankets.

"Adjusting core temperature for maximum relaxation."

It can turn into a heating or cooling pad depending on your preference.

"Providing entertainment to enhance simulation."

It will put on your favorite shows or movie, or bring you a favorite book.

It isn't really good at talking about things.

It can search its data banks all at once, it knows it can't come up with something to say that will ease all your pain.

And, although it doesn't understand the emotion, it makes it angry.

You might have to explain to him how you like to be comforted, otherwise, he'll take everything he finds online and combine it.

And, as nice but, you're not a statistic, you're a person.

What really matters is that it's trying.

Does it understand why the things that make you happy do?

Not at all.

But it knows that it makes you happy.

And that's all that really matters to it.

Seeing you smile, seeing you filled with glee.

That is its ultimate purpose.,