#dbd oneshot

[blot-squisher]

Happy Pride Everyone! To celebrate, I'm hosting a small 'Choose your Oneshot' poll on Discord! Once all the votes are in, I'll write up a smutty little fic based on the highest voted Pairing, Setting, and Location! https://discord.gg/4rabSUBkZg

[aceviscontiswife]

consider, for reader obsessed with ghostface: before they bone/in some earlier trials, ghostface keeps getting kicked out of stealth mode. killer instinct triggers every time and it's always reader hiding and watching. he can't figure out why reader keeps revealing him, because he keeps downing and hooking reader but they won't. stop. revealing him in trials. other survivors always escape. ghostface thinks it's some kind of new strategy to keep him from stealthing. thinks reader is a ballsy badass instead of a dumbass.

Devotion || Danny Johnson

Ooooo I like this! Sorry for rushing it, I have a lot coming up next week so I’m trying to finish up as many of my works as possible.

GN! Reader, Warnings: Danny being suggestive but that’s it

Danny thought he was alone. He had practically cornered himself in the corner of Mother’s Dwelling in a desperate attempt to shroud without immediately being revealed. But, just like every other time, it wasn’t long until he felt a familiar pair of eyes on him and his killer instinct told him someone was just outside—he had been revealed again.

It was you, it had to be. There was nothing Danny could do other than kill you, but even as the entity plunged its claws into your chest you still managed to reveal him. It infuriated him, but Danny couldn’t deny that it was smart. Smart, and kind of badass. You would die almost every trial with Danny, but somehow manage to screw Danny over so badly the other survivors could escape.

Danny had no real idea as to why you were—in his mind, so obsessed with him. He assumed it was new plan you had come up with to allow your team to have a fairly easy match, though Danny didn’t know any survivor who’d happily die for their team.

The truth was quite simple, actually. Of course you’d never tell the other survivors this, but you just liked watching him. You had to fight to hold back laughter as he grew angrier and angrier the more you revealed him. He would always act so angry when you would reveal him, but the second he managed to catch you, he only offered you a husky chuckle before he threw you onto the nearest hook.

You were hoping this time would be different. You made a point to make this trial the worst of them all for Danny. Wherever he went you followed, watching his every move. Maybe if he didn’t shroud you wouldn’t reveal him, because there was no way you could take your eyes off of him. You heard Danny huff out a “Damnit!” As he turned towards you. You were behind a boulder, peering into Mother’s Dwelling through a hole in the wall.

“Just wait until I find you.” Danny lets out a manic laugh, one that all but confirmed Danny had reached a breaking point. He storms out of Mother’s Dwelling, and you shoot him a wink before running off. It. Was. On. This was Danny’s chance to find out just what you were doing and why you were so obsessed with him. The other killers never mentioned you when they whined about difficult trials, if anything you were an easy kill for them.

Danny finally catches up to you, his knife digging into your back as you vault into shack. It was then, when instead of screaming out you simply grunted and chuckled, that Danny realized. You fucking liked him, didn’t you? He was flattered. This whole time it hadn’t been some game… you were just as twisted as he was.

Shack pallet had already been dropped and destroyed ages ago, and with Danny quickly approaching, you realized you had nowhere to go. You had ran yourself into a dead zone. All you could do was run away from your team and hope they finish the last gen, but you were on death hook and you probably wouldn’t make it far anyways.

“Nowhere to go? Could’ve told you that, Doll.” Danny was stood where the pallet used to be, leaned up against the wall while you stood at the other doorway, catching your breath. “T-Then why didn’t you?” You pant out, your gaze locked onto the gaping black eyes of Danny’s mask.

“We both know you’d do anything to finally get a chance to speak to me, and this is it. I’ve enjoyed this whole game we’ve been playing, I really have, but if you wanted me all you had to do was ask.” You roll your eyes at Danny’s comment, but the red on your face only egged Danny on more. He began walking towards you, wiping some old blood off of his knife.

“At first, I thought you were outthinking me. But that’s not it, is it?” You were so focused on Danny’s words that you hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten, he was inches away from your face. You shudder as Danny trails his fingers down your arm.

“Danny…” You weren’t sure what you should say, you were expecting Danny to kill you, not this. “Next trial, Doll. The next trial you have with me, it’ll be the best one yet.” Danny’s red eyes stared into your e/c ones, Danny hand leaves yours to cup your face. “I’ll see you there, Y/n.” And with that said,

Danny plunges his knife deep into your chest, securing his first kill of the trial.

****

Once again, I apologize for rushing! I have a shit-ton of stuff coming up these next few months, and especially next week. I will probably publish stuff next week but not much (if anything). Love ya. ❤️

[imtooscaredforthis]

This dumb idea came to mind while being moried by ghostie, but imagine Danny taking a picture of you with his bulky old camera only for you to take your brand new phone - given by entity as a gift - and pull an Uvo reverse card and take his picture - with flash on -

Finally getting back into requestsss baby!! Sorry it took me such a long time to do them I’ve just been hella busy.

Picture Perfect

You can’t help but admit, you’ve been a bit distracted lately. Ever since The Entity gifted you with a brand new phone, in fact, for doing so well in recent trials. But despite it being new, it still has all the old games and apps on your old phone, which does make you happy, finding some safety engaging in the sentimentality and nostalgia of it.

You also could use it as a tool in trials. Not that you could call the other survivors or anything (there’s no cell service in The Entity’s realm, unfortunately) but you could use it to distract the killers, having it go off or using the flashlight to blind them. Not only is it entertaining and comforting, but it’s useful too.

Even though having a phone has it’s perks, it isn’t perfect. There still are some problems, including the temptation to look at it, especially during trials.

Currently, you’re having that problem, as you hide behind the rock, trying to suppress the urge to go on your phone as you hear Ghostface breaking the generator you were working on. You just want to use your camera to see if he’s still there. But then, you got an idea.

Not too long ago, Ghostface moried you and took a picture of you while doing it. And you know somewhere that creep has a pic of your dead body stashed somewhere, so why can’t you take a picture of him?

Feeling the adrenaline rushing through you, you peek over the rock, seeing the masked murderer now stalking after a survivor. He’s crouched over, his knife raised above his head as he creeps closer and- Damn, you never noticed what a nice ass he has.

Telling yourself to quit being a perv, you go to take a photo, only then realizing that you have your flash and ringer on. A loud, click sound rises in the air, making Ghostface turn around to see where it came from.

You dive under the rock just before he can see you, crawling away hurriedly and swearing under your breath. Fuck fuck fuck, what were you thinking? This was such a mistake oh god oh god-

“Well well, look who was snooping around.” Ghostface said, making you stop dead in your tracks, freezing in place. He’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re so screwed.

There’s another click of a camera but it’s not yours, and it’s coming from behind you. You look over your shoulder, seeing Ghostface holding his own camera. “There, now we’re even. I’ll even give you a bit of a head start since I found your photography so cute. Go ahead and run. Ten, nine, eight-”

You got to your feet, sprinting away with your phone in hand, hoping you’ll both just forget this whole thing. But you know someone like him will never let this go.

[fruggo]

leon, quentin, and joey x anxious reader - fluffy headcanons

sickening fluff and comfort because that is currently my mood <3 thanks dont hate me please this is self-indulgence

also omg im posting ! crazy ! sorry it’s been so long but im doing a little better now :)

❀ ❁ ❀

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐒. 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

when you start to feel very anxious, he can tell immediately, especially if you are a very physical person (i.e. hand shaking/wringing, leg bouncing, rocking, or just your facial expression)

he will do anything he can to calm you down. he’s very thoughtful and conscientious so he will be careful not to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with

if you are okay with being touched, he will hold your hands and pull you real close and put your head on his chest, and he’ll tell you that this will eventually pass, that it’s going to be okay, that you are going to be okay.

he won’t leave you alone if he knows you’re having a hard time. he’s worried that something will happen to you in his absence, and he just never wants you to feel abandoned or lonely. but if you need to be alone he will respectfully step away.

listen, we are talking about leon flirty-ass kennedy here. he is so touchy now that he has you; he’s always attached to you in some way. he loves to put his hands on your waist, or sometimes one of them will rest protectively on your thigh when you’re sitting down at the campfire. if you like to hold hands you best believe his hand will be slipping into yours the second he sees you are getting overwhelmed.

it’s his way of reassuring you that he is here and he’s not going to leave you.

he does that thing where he moves his thumb back and forth over ur hand that makes ur stomach go AAHHHHHHH u know that one???? that shit gives me butterflies☠️☠️

❀ ❁ ❀

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

he understands you.

sleepy cuddles. that’s most of what i have to say. he’ll pull you all gentle into his arms and just hold you so close that you feel like nothing could ever hurt you again.

he will remind you how brave you are, and he’ll tell you how proud he is of you.

somehow even more touchy than leon. his favorite way to cuddle is hugging you in his lap, your legs wrapped around his torso and his arms holding you close. it’s not only comfort for you—it’s comfort for him, too. he loves the feeling of you clinging to him like a koala; it’s very cute, and it also makes him feel needed.

he likes to trace his fingers along your face. i know this sounds weird but let me explain

you know when you pet a cat?? on its face?? and you trace its nose, and maybe its cheek, then under the chin, and then its nose again?? yeah its like that basically

you will lay your head in his lap and then he will trace his fingers along the bridge of your nose, then across your forehead, down your cheeks, and then he’ll just hold your face in his hands for a while to admire you. then he’ll squish your cheeks to make you do a fish face so that you’ll smile.

he likes small kisses. thumb, cheek, shoulder, forehead, etc. he will do this when he senses you getting overwhelmed—your mind is racing, you feel your heart speeding up, you feel like you might explode, and then suddenly quentin’s hand is in yours and he is pressing the softest kiss to your knuckles.

just the most precious boy in general. he will coerce you to take naps with him in which he falls asleep with his arms wound around your waist and face buried in your shoulder.

❀ ❁ ❀

𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐘

joey doesn’t want to be a killer and nobody can convince me otherwise

yeah he can be kinda scary personality-wise but frank is the one who convinced him and susie to help kill that guy; and then suddenly they were all kidnapped here, damned to kill innocent people for eternity.

he’s just a teenager. he was up to some bad things before the entity’s realm, sure, but he was never a murderer. he often missed having a normal life and slacked in trials—he couldn’t bring himself to harm so many innocent survivors unless the entity was driving him with that insane bloodlust he couldn’t control.

so seeing as joey is still hanging on to sanity, it’s fairly easy for him to sympathize with you when you start freaking out in one of his trials.

he doesn’t know exactly what to do, because mental health was not yet widely discussed in his time, but he could tell that something was wrong and you were in a lot of pain. the entity was not being particularly demanding right then, so he took that trial off to befriend you and calm you down.

you have never spoken of this to any of the survivors, but after that trial, joey took you back to the ormond lodge and gave you a cup of hot chocolate. you were astounded at his kindness and felt very connected to him since then.

you felt the urge to cling to him whenever he came to see you or took you to ormond again, and he didn’t mind at all. nobody had ever seen you in such an anxious moment but him, and he had made you feel safe, whether he was part of the legion or not.

you knew joey didn’t want to hurt anybody. he couldn’t want to hurt anybody. it wasn’t like him, was it?

whenever you hold onto his arm, he always stiffens for a moment, but then relaxes, and even slides his hand out of his pocket and intertwines it with yours. he’ll squeeze it every now and then to let you know he’s still paying attention to your touch.

frank calls him soft, but he doesn’t care. he likes the thought that you trust him, that you care about him, and that you don’t think of him as a monster. he feels normal around you.

and he likes being able to protect you. he loves feeling like he is doing something good for you, because ever since becoming a killer for the entity all he has felt is guilt, anger, and shame, and he’s sick of it. caring for you has made him feel not so much like a monster. you make him feel not so much like a monster.

he doesn’t completely understand your anxiety, but he will support you no matter what and knows what to do when you get overwhelmed. he visits you in the forest frequently just to talk and maybe cuddle if he’s in the mood. he doesn’t always initiate physical contact, but he never minds when you do as he knows it is comforting.

when he does touch you, usually it will be him playing with your hands. he likes to play with your fingers and just hold them in his own, compare the size, etc.

never, in any circumstance, harms you in a trial. he doesn’t care how much the entity punishes him—he will never hurt you. he will take that entire trial off cuddling with you to mentally prepare himself for what the entity will do to him. it will hurt a lot, but he doesn’t care. he wouldn’t harm you for anything in the world.

[gladoswantscake]

Save the Best for Last || Michael Myers

A/N: You can view the older version on Wattpad and AO3

Warnings: None

Haddonfield was the your least favorite place to end up in trial. Luckily, there was only one generator left to be repaired and soon you can return to the campfire. You search through the very few open houses in hope to find the last one, but to your dismay, there’s was not one to be found. Working on generators outside was now a risk due to very few pallets to protect yourself.

As you exit the last house, a scream fills the air. Meg became another sacrifice to the Entity. Now it was only you and Steve that remained.

Down the street, you saw Steve repairing the last one. You hurry to him and worked with him to get it done faster. As the generator was close to jumping back to life, you felt a strange presence. It felt like someone was watching the two of you. Steve noticed that you stopped and turned his head to you, his eyes widen. You look up to see the dreadful expression on his face. In worry, you quickly turn your head to what Steve was so afraid of. And there he was: The Shape. The tall man gripped the large bloody kitchen knife and began to walk towards the two of you, raising the knife.

The both of you ran into different directions to find a place to hide. Unfortunately, he was after you and he was picking up speed. Your adrenaline was the only thing that was keeping you alive longer. Glancing from behind, he was getting closer.

As you turn your head back around, you felt something shoving you onto the ground. Lifting your head up, you see Steve being picked up by his throat by the man that chased you. The Shape’s knife was shoved into Steve’s chest.

Your eyes widened. With little oxygen you had left, you cried out his name.

Steve’s head slowly turns to you, choking out one word.

“Run.”

The Shape tosses Steve’s lifeless body in front of you. You look up as he starts walking again, raising his knife. You quickly pick yourself up from the ground and take off running once again. Being the last survivor in the trial, the hatch was now your only escape out of Haddonfield.

Eventually, The Shape managed to lose you by cutting through the backyards. Glancing behind you, he was nowhere to be seen. You finally could take a breather. As you regain yourself, you could hear a strange sound not far from you. Following the sound, you came upon the hatch at the end of the street. You smiled in triumph.

As you approach the open hatch, a sharp pain tore into your shoulder blade. The force of it made you collapse onto the cement ground crying out in pain. A pair of boots stepped in front of you to close the hatch as a way to tease your failure of trying to escape. You look up in defeat to see him staring down at you as his head slowly tilts to one side. He reaches down to grab you by your throat and picks you up.

Your hands wrap around his arm that held you up. “Please don’t.” You beg. His breathing becomes relaxed as his free hand reaches the back of his mask and pulling it off to reveal who the Shape really is. Everything about him was perfect, except for his scarred eye being the only flaw. You remember the young girl, Laurie Strode telling you about how he lost his eye.

Then his lips went to yours. You were confused. But it felt like a long time since you’ve felt something good. Your eyes close as you give in to the kiss.

Suddenly, your eyes shot wide open. Your eyes traveled down where the pain came from. The knife he held was jammed into your heart. You wanted to cry, but you couldn’t. You tried to get out of his grasp, but you were beginning to feel weak. He pulls the knife out of you and drops your almost lifeless body onto the ground. He watches you struggling to get the last couple of breaths. He kneels next to your dying body, cupping the side of your face.

It won’t be long till you wake up back at the campfire.

[puffiepancake]

Legit have been busy with school but I have ordered stuff for my Frank cosplay so that should be fun! Also, here's a Frank oneshot!

🥀 You're just as crazy as me 🥀

Frank x Reader (in entity's realm)

(Y/N Pov)

It was your first trial in awhile and to be honest, you pretty excited for it. Being able to run around and get an adrenaline rush out of it. Luckily enough for you, the killer you didn't know at the time was a Legion member.

As you started to work on a Generator with Jake, grunts of pain could be heard with the following of heavy breathing and fast footsteps. Jake immediately got off the Gen to run but you stayed and continued to work. It wasn't long until Frank vaulted a near by window and tried to swing at you before you jumped off, causing him to miss.

He groaned a bit, snapping out of his frenzy before you started to run off, laughing to yourself a bit.

(Frank pov)

That laugh..that damn laugh! They think im dumb! Well, lets see who find dumb when I kill you. This thought caused him to smirk and continue to chase you. As time went on, his blood rust started to rise. The thought of using a mori on you was stuck in his mind.

The chase lasted three generators before he downed you.

(No one's pov)

Y/N struggled to get out of the grasp of Frank but the more he did, the tighter his grip. Once hooking them in basement, Y/N let out a scream of pain but smiled. Frank tilted his head. "Whats with the smile?" He asked. "You lost" They whispered before the last two generators finished and exits could be opened.

Frank huffed. "You get a kick out of being chased and playing with killers..dont you" He asked, looking them dead in the eyes. Y/N just chuckled. "Why not? Its fun to give you a challenge"

Frank laughed. "Y'know...maybe you're just like me and the others at this rate. You're as crazy as the rest of us. Have fun down here" He said before quickly running back up the basement stairs. You and your fellow survivor friend Kate died that match. But who knows..maybe you could talk to Frank more about this later?

[lefthandersruletheworld]

Dead By Daylight Upcoming Oneshot Preview (Dwight x Jake: Part 4)

“You’ve gotta tell me Dwight, what happened?”

With a sigh he started. 

“So… Jake and I were in the trial together.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And… I dunno, he… we thought it would be a good idea to sneak off and… I dunno… fool around I guess?”

“Fool around?” She blurted. “Like, like, like sex? Or like, making out, or like-”

“Well,” he cut her off, getting a little tired of hearing the word ‘like’. “We kinda went off behind a tree and made out...”

“Behind a tree? That’s a bad idea.” “Well it wasn’t just a tree, it was a big rock and a tree. It was tucked into the corner of the trial walls. We thought it had good coverage.” “Ohh… okay. Jake thought of that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dwight nodded. 

“Sooo… what else?” Meg urged, aching to know more of the details. He flushed, and shamefully was excited to tell. It felt so naughty to be discussing this, but he couldn’t fight the urge rising up from his belly to spill the beans. He gave a little smirk, and spoke up. 

“So, we went off and hid behind this tree.”

“Rock and tree,” Meg giggled. 

“Yes, precisely,” he joked back. “So, we went back there, and we… we started making out, and things got a little… heated… and then Trapper came and it was just-” he groaned. “Just awful.”

“Wait, so Trapper caught you, doing what?”

“I was sitting on Jake.”

“Like sex?” 

“No!” He laughed, rubbing his face. “God damn it Meg.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! My mind is racing. You have to tell me everything.”

“I'll get to it, I’ll get to it,” he waved her off with a giggle. “Jesus Meg, I’m traumatized and all you care about is if I got some.”

“Sorry,” she chuckled and shook her head. She waved her hands as if to clear their last conversation from the air. “Okay, so, start over. Make it detailed.” *** Author: Thanks for reading! This is one of the 4 upcoming chapters that I’ll be posting on my Ao3. It’s coming along quickly, so it will probably be posted first (and probably not too long from now), but not to worry, the Nea x Meg one is still coming, it’s just taking me time! 

[fruggo]

Hello ! I saw the enemies fo lovers things and I wanna request if possible

“ rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago. “

With frank if you would and thank you

yessirrr i love frank sm it’s not ok. also umm i may have accidentally written friends to enemies to lovers or something idk. and though i wouldnt necessarily call you friends at the start, you werent really enemies yet???? idk🐸just ummm yeh i love frank

also help how do i not go overboard???? i feel like i made this way too long, please help and i am sorry

warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, frank being a bastard but then you’re like awwww he’s a cute bastard aaaaw

~~

Things were weird with Frank, and they always had been from the moment you stepped foot in the Entity’s realm. He always tunneled you relentlessly, and that made you think of him as a big asshole, but there were some strange details tacked onto the sentiment that greatly confused you, should you think about it for more than three seconds.

Sometimes, it seemed like he went easy on you in chases, like he put in no effort. He would chase you for a while, let you waste his time, and then leave without even getting a hit on you when he definitely had the ability to.

And you hated saying this, but when he handled you, it almost felt…gentle. Granted, he was a killer, and his job was to murder you, but your experiences with him did not quite line up with those of the other survivors.

They always described trials against Frank as “stepping on legos in the middle of the night” or something akin to that. You never felt like that, though—when he chased you, it felt fair. Almost as if he played nice with you. And more often than not, the killer would let you go when he caught you. The reason remained a mystery to you until quite a bit later.

This trial, Frank was in 100% bastard mode. You had begun to think of his trials as quite easy due to his seemingly calm nature around you, so you were rather caught off guard when he downed you in the first 30 seconds of the match and tossed you onto a hook, no gentleness whatsoever.

You wanted to yell at him and ask what the fuck was wrong with him until you realized this was his fucking job, and this is how he should have been treating you all along. Maybe you had just been imagining it all, but you could have sworn he used to leave you alone more than this. Something just felt different.

After you were unhooked, he went for you again. And again. And then you were dead, completely wiped out of the trial. Frank had demolished you with no remorse.

You knew it was silly to feel betrayed, but you really couldn’t help it. In such an insane and hellish place, anything that could be even remotely perceived as kindness seemed like so much more of a big deal than it truly was. So Frank’s supposed “gentleness” with you had felt somewhat like a friend doing you a selfless favor. Of course, it was not a selfless favor, and it was certainly nowhere near kindness, because he was still a killer chasing you with a knife, but your standards had really lowered in this place.

After that trial, you were back to hating Frank for tunneling and bullying you (like you probably should). You began to understand the survivors’ saying about the legos—and you hoped that Frank would step on some legos too, because he fucking sucked sometimes.

And for a while, that’s just how it was. You nearly forgot how he used to go easier on you, and how you used to do okay in his matches. Now every time you were pit against each other it just felt like you were being stuck with a bunch of pins; you never had any time to breathe or rest or do literally anything. He just went after you until you were gone, and there was next to nothing you could do about it.

Everything changed very suddenly during a trial at Ormond.

You were expecting the same old routine with this asshole—chase, blah blah blah, die. You hardly had energy to fight back anymore.

So when he arrived out of breath at the killer shack, somehow knowing you would be here, Frank was surprised to find you relaxing under the window with your arms loosely crossed, a disapproving scowl upon your countenance. It was enough to make him hesitate in his tracks.

You let out a deep breath, refusing to break eye contact with his mask; you kept up that menacing frown for as long as you could, trying to make him feel guilty (who knows if it was even possible for him to feel guilty? But it was worth a try).

“Just kill me,” you said, voice steady and seemingly unbothered. Underneath the surface, you were trembling, but you stood your ground. “That’s what you’re gonna do, isn’t it? You’re going to chase me until I’m miserable and kill me off as soon as you can?”

Frank went still, not even fidgeting with his knife like he usually did; he was intrigued by your sudden confidence.

You went on. “I’m really sick and tired of you, you know that? I’m sick of you and your bullshit. Why can’t you treat me like everybody else? At first, you went easy on me. Now you just torture me with your stupid mind games, and frankly, I’m sick of playing! I’m done with you—I don’t care anymore! Just kill me, and I’ll get out of your way, okay asshole? Mori me if you want. I don’t give a shit.”

You put your hands up exasperatedly, fully expecting him to take the offer and just send you back to the campfire right then and there. But the man sighed, pocketed his knife, and sat down right next to you as if this were a normal thing for him to do.

You scooted a few inches away out of instinct. Frank noticed, but he chose not to say a word about it.

It was a long time before he said anything, and when he finally did, you wanted to punch him so bad.

“It’s complicated,” he mumbled. And that was all.

Oh, yeah? It was complicated? You scoffed, hanging your head with a bitter smile. “Oh, okay. Sure.”

Silence again.

Awkward, suffocating silence.

And then Frank got up and left. You were unbothered for the remainder of the trial, not even a scratch or bruise on your body.

~~

Sometimes you simply did things, and you didn’t know why. This thing that you just did was irrational, stupid, unplanned, unwise, and everything in-between, and you knew it was, but frequently you just had no impulse control. Perhaps it was the Entity’s influence, or maybe you had always been this way—you couldn’t really remember.

How did you get here again? Why were you laying on the ground? And why did your leg hurt so fucking much?

Oh, yes. Yes, yes, you remember now.

Funnily enough, it seems as though the Entity, along with certain killers, did not like it when survivors tried to enter their side of the forest! But you did it anyways, and it appeared that you had suffered the consequences. It’s not like you had put much thought into it; where was the point in that when nothing mattered anymore and you were stuck in an endless cycle of death?

You remembered entering the killer’s woods, looking around, and doing…something. What was that something? You couldn’t be sure, but then you remembered somebody coming up to you and probably definitely hurting you. Yep, your leg definitely was in a lot of pain. You couldn’t even look at it. Did you pass out for a while? Maybe. How long were you out for?

You lay still there for a while, thinking. Man, it really hurt, and boy, were you miserable. Maybe more miserable than you’d ever felt here. The Entity normally healed wounds immediately, but perhaps you had just angered it so much you deserved to suffer.

Oh, dear! You seemed to be passing out at this time. Yes, that was almost certainly what was happening. Black spots danced across your eyes as your body began to feel distant and numb, but you didn’t feel very worried about it. In fact, you felt like making jokes right now, but you had nobody to make jokes to and you probably couldn’t even speak.

Just as you began to accept it, there was a strange thumping sensation vibrating through the ground growing closer…and closer…

Footsteps! That’s good!

Oh. Not if it’s a killer. That’s not good, probably.

But you had no way of protesting when you felt yourself being picked up, because those black spots in your eyes were dancing a lot faster now, perhaps something akin to an Irish jig, and you also couldn’t feel your limbs.

Then you were fast asleep again, dreaming of Irish dancers who were actually big fluffy cloud people wearing leprechaun clothes. Nobody but you would ever know this, and it was going to stay that way.

On the bright side, it made it a lot easier for your rescuer to carry you to safety like this.

~~

When you awoke once more, you were horrified to find yourself in the Ormond lodge of all places. You knew immediately what had happened and were determined to escape as soon as possible.

Your injured leg proved to be a huge problem, however, and you collapsed the second you attempted to find freedom. Trying again, you collapsed once more, and probably maimed yourself further in the process.

Hearing the commotion from the second floor, your least favorite member of The Legion descended down from the main stairs, refusing to look directly at you even as he scooped you up and plunked you (gently) back onto the couch, which was rather comfortable (not that you would ever tell him that).

So he was playing it cool, huh?

Okay. You could play it cool, too. You were cool. Smooth as butter.

No. You really couldn’t be cool in a situation like this, and plus, your mind was still a little woohoo since whatever accident had occurred. Suddenly you blurted out, “Frank, I hate your guts.”

And he had the audacity to laugh. He laughed at you! He did the man chuckle thing, as if what you were saying was funny. No! You were completely serious! You did hate his guts!

Perhaps your face showed how upset you were, because he started to apologize (still laughing).

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” Frank said after calming down a bit.

No. You couldn’t go back to sleep. You did not want to experience dancing cloud people dressed as leprechauns ever again in your life, for the rest of eternity. Never again.

So you shook your head violently, refusing to give an explanation, which just provoked Frank to anger all of a sudden. If you went back to sleep, he could have some alone time while the rest of The Legion was gone. He kept pushing, and you kept resisting, and he pushed and you resisted, until finally he gave up and let you off with a warning. If you made him mad again, he was throwing you out in the snow.

Fine with me, you said. Okay, I’ll do it right now, he said. No balls, you said.

So then Frank casually went to scoop you up in his arms again, and you started to freak out and beat your hands against his chest until he put you back down. He was was awfully mindful of your hurt leg for someone who was about to throw you into the snow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please don’t throw me out,” you fussed. You thought he wouldn’t actually do it. You didn’t know it, but you were right—he was just messing with you because it was funny seeing you scared.

After a bit more griping back and forth, Frank began to grow concerned about your leg. He didn’t know how to bring up the topic because things were so odd between the two of you; this was your first interaction since the brief encounter in the shack. But he swallowed his pride, because the wound seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

“Hey, do you want me to, uhh…get some supplies?” Frank asked awkwardly. When you didn’t understand, he continued, “Your leg? It looks like it hurts…I could fix it if you want.”

You barked out a laugh at his words, unbelieving of this shift in attitude. “Rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago,” you snickered, genuinely finding it amusing.

Frank took offense. He was trying to be nice for once, and you thought it was funny. And his situation really was complex, whether you chose to believe it or not. Maybe he should just tell you to get it off of his chest.

“Listen,” he said, voice laced with seriousness. “When I told you things were complicated, I meant it.”

Sensing the mood change from his tone and body language, you stopped smiling and decided to pay attention to him. Just this once. Never again. After this you could go back to hating him.

Frank continued. “The Entity was going to start…well, hurting me, if I didn’t start doing better in trials. I really didn’t want to sacrifice you, which is embarrassing to admit, but I’ll say it. And I don’t think it liked that.”

You were surprised. And also relieved that you had been right all along—he had been going easy on you at first.

“Why me, though?” you asked, confused. “Why wouldn’t you want to sacrifice me? What about the other survivors?”

If the slight tilt of his head at your question didn’t answer it for you, the way he started tapping his feet and cracking his knuckles so nervously did.

Boy, if looks could kill, you would have died instantly at the scowl Frank sent your way; you grinned pridefully at the realization that this man was down bad. You couldn’t see the expression behind his mask, though, which Frank was thankful for.

He hated every second of this, but you loved it. You reveled in his embarrassment.

Leaning forward on your hands, you begged, “Tell me more! I want to hear all about your feelings for me.”

“I could stab you right now, you know that?”

“But you won’t. You liiiiike me!”

“What are you, eight years old?”

“No, but I am severely injured and have lost a lot of blood so I am not necessarily in the right headspace at the moment.”

“You make a fair point.”

“So tell me! What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“Your ass.”

“No, really.”

“Okay, your ass and your hair.”

“You know what, Frank, I still hate your guts.”

“No, you don’t.”

You paused for a moment. It was probably the blood loss talking, you decided later, but you said, “No. Maybe I don’t.”