Dvd Request Here! Can I Request Survivor Reader Who Can Actually Kill The Killers But Decided To Play

Dvd request here! Can I request survivor reader who can actually kill the killers but decided to play along with the game?? Like one time the reader decided to kill the killers just for fun? Thankyou!

Killing The Killers

Content Tag(s) : basic game violence, k!lling, mentions of gore, some sexual tension, reader discretion advised

Paring(s) : the trapper x reader || the ghostface x reader || the shape x reader || (separate)

A/N : So sorry for taking so long, life has been busy and hurtful but— I'm here (somewhat) now! // have to feed my dbd followers, also I’ve always found it easy to write Myers so forgive me for his longer part.

TRAPPER | Evan MacMillan the foolish wolf.

“You’re the predator right up until you're prey.” - James Sa Corey

When he was free from the entity and released into the realm of the trial, his attention was captured by unfamiliar footprints nearby. They were a pair of two planted and smudged in a dense mud puddle nearby. By a normal gaze, it’d just be mistaken for an accident, a simple walk through in fear. However, when he chose to follow its direction, the truth unfolded with a shoeprint pressed too hard not to be unintentional near one of his traps.

The simple action told him this trial would probably either be the most exciting he's had recently or the most frustrating.

As he knows you are the one behind this.

Since your first arrival, you've shown that you're not meant to be hunted, nonetheless be prey. You showed that you are the peak of a human, having a high intelligence and awareness of yourself and your surroundings. With that being said, Evan is envious of your skills at adapting and conquering instead of being obedient. It’s something that even most Killers wouldn’t dare to try against the entity.

But, that also meant you’re the demise of him and the rest of the killers.

It felt as if you were the entity itself, doing what you wish without the consequences of death, knowing you can always escape.

It frustrated everyone and everything, specifically your ‘dumb luck.’ You didn't use or bring tools into trials often for the sole person of not needing them as you like to take chase. But do say if the killers are intentionally ignoring you, (something Evan does) you run off to open chests with some amazing tools or meds before finally ‘playing.’

If Evan was to find you on gen he’d try to be as quick as possible to snatch you. Of course that never happens with the way you weasel past him, a piece of your clothes or hair straying in the wind from his whiff.

Your giggle following.

Evans’ breathing was heavier than seconds before, his chest rising and easing with this familiar urgency as he stomps after his prey. He managed to get into a chase with Dwight and land hits on Bill and Feng nearby, their distant cries of pain pounding against his eardrums. But, he had tunnel vision on Dwight, wanting him out now so he didn't have to deal with everyone together.

He raised his Cleaver, eyes bloodshot as the wind slices at his swing. He would have hit that damn man to the ground now if it wasn't for you taking the hit. The smell of your blood intoxicating the air and painting both your clothes and his. This was new but a shame for him it didn't last long, you blame it on him for his tunnel vision.

“Clumsy clusmy~”

You smile, as his right foot touches the ground. The snarl of a trap snapping closed filling the air. His hunched-over form gives you the disadvantage and shoves him off of his feet, a series of snaps following, and the killer groaning in agony.

Dwight was long gone, on his way to the gate that Bill and Feng were opening. That left only you, looming over the man with this look that Evan could only say was of bloodlust. The cries of the sirens match your ragged breathing as you step a heel onto him, his disowned weapon now firm in your grasp. The same hand that poured with your blood from the gash on your back, a sloppy one that surely hurt. Yet, you couldn't feel it and he felt as if he understood why as you brought the cleaver over your head.

It was adrenaline, possibly even something else. As you successfully played rabbit long enough to fool the dumb wolf. This whole game he's forgotten his traps because of you. Because of you, he couldn't get them to stop. Because of you, he couldn't get Dwight. And because of you, he's dead.

The death was quick and as painless as possible. As if you were ending the suffering of an animal. His hand only reached out when he returned to his realm, hovering over where you once stood. Evan could've done something. But, he didn't. His body was bitten by traps, littered like poison ivy and fear(?)— no. Impossible. Was it? It made him growl as he presses his hand against his chest.

A mere human, smaller than him and what he believed, weaker than him, tired and caught its prey. Him.

He then realized as he stood that the print from the beginning was a warning. Your warning, maybe even clue or advice that he needs to be smarter. He needs to be the better hunter so he can catch the most sacred creature of all. You.

GHOSTFACE | Danny Johnson

Smile for me.

“When you hunt predators, the best camouflage is weakness” - ANDREW VACHSS

Mr. Ghostface has always been captivated by you. He knows that you aren't just some attractive face willing to fall over for a straddle, that teasing smile and laugh is what tells him exactly that.

Like him, you're playing the game by its rules. You're obeying in your own way and just adding some fun into his life. He thanks you for that, he’ll even thank you personally if he can just manage to get his hands on your quick body. But, he can't, you know him awfully too well for his liking.

And something familiar itched him in the back of his head every time he swiveled around from a bird's call, only being welcomed by well- nothing and looking like an idiot as he walks about to make sure no one is around the corner.

Through the whole trial, you were a mere shadow in the corner of his eye. His head turned to connect and finally get in a chase with you, only for his blood to run cold. The tugging triggering in his brain as the hands trample over his cloak, tightening around him. It felt as if the fangs of a cobra latched onto his neck, its body tightening around him until he fell with a strangled gasp.

He could feel your hands going along his body before taking his beloved knife and camera.

“What do you think you're doing?” He huffed, an obvious annoyance dripping off his voice. This- was not it. At least it was something he wasn't enjoying due to the sole purpose of him not being in on the ‘plan.’ (If you know what I mean).

“I know you aren't that dumb, Ghosty “ A tone of joy kissed his ears as he was pulled back, the flash of a camera temporarily blinding him. One before the death, one after. Something that pissed Danny off to the moon was the way you handled him- after all HE’s supposed to be the one doing this! Not the other way around!

“Smile for me!”

-Were the last words he heard before the fuzz of death overtook him. Since being brought here, he knows what death feels and looks like. And he knows very well that he was dying, one attack after the other being fueled with this shot of adrenaline before his eventual death.

The layered voices of the entity show their obvious disappointment of this trial's performance. Danny grumbled to himself as he rips his mask off, running his grimy hands down his face to get rid of the remaining sweat. By the feel of it, the entity only mended him to the point he would survive, leaving him with the ache of his stabs.

He growled as he snatched up his camera, using an unneeded force while he looks through it. The photo of Meg welcoming before the next did. Where the mere sight made his body freeze, his eyes slightly widening under his mask.

Danny was unsure why he was feeling this exact way. It was a horrendous mix of attraction and competitiveness that stirred in his chest with the sight of you straddling his back; imitating his pose to the exact hold of his knife to the lean, the only real difference being the look you had. A look of a killer he thought.

A look of a challenger. Or maybe simply someone that he had to put in their place.

THE SHAPE || Michael Myers

The other boogeyman.

“Black widows may be powerful predators, but every predator is somebody else's prey.” - Lionel

Michael is very conflicted about his emotions toward you. The only thing he knows for sure is he hates how aware you are. You don’t allow yourself to have tunnel vision when doing tasks and that means you’re always on alert. That being said, the smallest noise, whether it be by the wind or a light step, your attention is already over your shoulder.

Your hands still working with familiarity, your keen hearing focusing on both your surroundings and the task at hand. To him, it’s annoying. To others, it's applaudable. This is why he always tries to play smart if you’re in a trial.

He knows you have Spine Chill, an ability you quickly learned so you can always have a head start on something. You also don’t utilize lockers, not because you don’t know how to you’re just playing smart. After all, if you’re able to get out of his line of sight and out of the area faster, he doesn’t have a chance of catching up to you. (Also because you nearly died during a trial with Bubba and that forever stuck with you).

Long story short, you are the victim that every killer wants to kill for ‘bragging’ rights. Or at least some small validation they want from themselves.

To Michael, you're a stand-in obsession. As the entity quickly took notice of how much he truly wishes to capture you. His intents are similar to his original obsession, but maybe a bit more— possessive. As when you became Bubba’s star obsession for a bit, Myers became a bit, disobedient. The tension between the two killers abnormal and leaving the rest with a disturbance between the realms.

Since the first incident, (him brutally slaughtering Bubba) you became his new obsession if Laurie wasn’t in trial. Even if she was sometimes it’d switch between the two of you, as offerings became more prominent by the Killer when he found out you’d be in a trial.

The Offering was one that was only obtainable by the entity by his performances (sacrificing the whole trial), or lucky run-ins during them. Nothing in between due to him actually being able to get his hands on you. If he was he’d probably cut off a lock of your hair for good luck or something along those lines. After all, not everyone can have the chance to get their hands on a creature like you.

A shame that when he did, he couldn’t cherish it.

You’ve been thinking about this plan for a while, mostly because you had mutual respect and interest in the masked killer. He was the only one that truly made your nerves go haywire and goosebumps erupt on your body. That enough was respectable. To the other survivors, it felt as if you had made him an obsession. (Which isn’t entirely wrong).

However, by the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Especially when you were dragged into a trial with the wisps of the the entity, the fog thick this time around. That itself gives your fellow survivors that you were in the trial, as you’re able to utilize the fog. When stealth you can see those near you, similar to one of Dwight's skills but it only lasts for a couple of seconds with five-second break intervals. Unless the killer is near then it's 10-25 seconds. You can see them up to 10 before the timer starts. ‘See Evil’ is what it began to be called.

Michael mentally scowled for a second at the thick fog. It used to be no problem for him due to it sometimes being a level too short, meaning he’d see over it. But, the entity seemed to have changed her mind over time and returned equality between survivors and killers.

oops poly!ghostface-💀

29. Children + 1. Morning

"C'moooon wake up!"

A chorus of groans rings out from you and your lovers and you throw an arm over your eyes as your youngest rips open the curtain of your bedroom window.

Looking over to your left, you see Billy reluctantly sit up, his eyes bleary and a hand coming up to scratch at his beard. On your right, Stu rolls over to put on his glasses and he laugh-grunts as the kid jokingly body slams into his father's stomach.

"You guys said we'd get to go downtown today! C'mon, we've waited all morning already." Your eyes slide to the doorway where the twins stand, annoyance blanketing their teen faces. Your daughter was the one who had spoken up, while your son just sighs at your slow pace.

"Yeah, yeah, we're up. We're up" Billy grumbles as he stretches, swinging his legs off the bed and continues his mutterings on his way to the bathroom. The pre-teen play fights with Stu, who grabs him and slams the boy onto the bed, blowing a raspberry into his stomach as he laughs and tries to kick him off. You shake your head and smile, how the hell did Stu still have so much energy at his age.

"'Kay kids, just head downstairs. Dad, Pops, and I are gonna brush our teeth. Marco should be here soon to make breakfast." You try and state this with as much authority as you can muster, but the grogginess of your voice makes it sound a lot less convincing.

Thankfully, your trio of kids are in a compliant mood, and they leave to head downstairs and await Marco, a personal chef Stu had employed to take care of the cooking. Giving Stu a quick kiss, the both of you head into the bathroom to join Billy in getting ready for the day.

"Remind me why we decided to have three of them." Billy spits into the sink, rubbing his still tired eyes . The older he got, the less of a morning person he became. It'd be amusing if he wasn't so bitchy about it.

"I dunno, because there're three of us? We each get one to take care of us when we're old as fuck." Stu jokes, coming up behind him to wrap his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's cheek.

"Man, I already feel old as fuck." you state as you lift your arms to stretch, back cracking, and you move to brush your own teeth.

"Hey, at least you're still as hot as the day we met." Billy states, a heated smirk finding its way onto his lips, and for a brief moment his face morphs into his younger one, smooth skin and pretty boy looks flashing in your vision. Stu nods in agreement with a wide grin, and his visage too transforms into the baby-faced, wide-eyed young man you also fell for. Glancing in the mirror at your middle-aged self, you wonder if they ever see glimpses of you at your most vibrant and youthful when you laugh. You hope that they do.

A light feeling bubbles in your chest, as the memories of all the years that had passed you three winded itself out in your head. The Good, The Bad, The Bloody. Your family, a small, undeserved piece of heaven you guys had built, was the culmination of them all. Somehow, against all odds of this sort of relationship with these sort of men working, the three of you had perservered. The heavy Italian-accented greeting of Marco rang out, and the simultaneous chatter and complaining of your children drifts into the room from downstairs.

Sure, you guys now have crows feet and smile lines and bad backs.

But you wouldn't trade it for the world.

❝ [a normal cat...] ❞

✦ oneshot : raiden x catshifter!reader

╰ ➤ fluff, gn reader, implied smut, nudity

(♡) synopsis: raiden trained in dedication at the wu shi academy and the academy's cat always seemed to follow him everywhere. He never thought much of it until one day, the cat turned out to be something else as a naked and rather extremely attractive person, sat on his lap where the cat previously was.*ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: Oml this was so fun to write! I hope you guys enjoy this story and yes, there's no full on descriptive smut in this so sorry hehe

༉‧₊˚✧Raiden's hand ducked under the table, handing you a piece of his breakfast while the champions talked. You happily accepted it and meowed at the man which caught the attention of the others.

Johnny raised a brow. "That cat's always around, huh. Who does it even belong to?"

"Does it matter," Kenshi spoke up, clicking his tongue to catch your attention. You smiled and decided to indulge in his actions, walking over to brush your head against his hand. "What if it's just a stray who likes to wander this area? Either way, I heard the monks take care of them. Their name is Y/n, I think."

Raiden smiles, looking down at you. "Y/n seems to enjoy our company."

Kung Lao scoffs. "Yeah right! They nearly bit me yesterday, I think they like you the most Raiden."

"You think?" He says, innocent eyes gleaming as he watched you trot back to him.

The champions then continued to eat their breakfast, making sure they were ready for another day's training while you sat yourself amongst Raiden's lap. His hand would brush against you and feed you bits of food every now and then. You could say you were being selfish, taking advantage of your cat form just to get close to your crush. But it quickly ended when Liu Kang announced that training would begin. You couldn't help but glare at the god. Raiden carefully picked you up, petting your head before walking toward the training grounds. Unfortunately, as you tried to follow him out the door, Liu Kang's foot blocked your path.

"Y/n," He gave you a stern look, almost like a parent scolding their child.

"What?" You whispered back.

"It's rather immature for you to be doing this. When will you introduce yourself to them normally?"

You huff, sitting down with an obvious annoyance portrayed by your tail. "I just don't wanna, plus, Raiden won't give me as much attention as he does now."

Liu kang rolls his eyes and lifts you up. You unwillingly let him, ears tucked back. "You're just like your previous self." He sighs.

"Oh really, how was I like in the prior timeline?"

"Obsessed with Raiden and always clinging to him." He says with amusement. "I thought maybe you'd be more tame this time, but you're exactly the same."

You chuckle. "Y/n's always gotta be Y/n."

"Unfortunately." Liu Kang smiles, carrying you over to where the men were training. He held you in his arms while observing the champions stances. You felt proud watching how attentive Raiden was in his movements. He was very dedicated to his role.

"Have you decided on who earth realm's champion will be?" You ask.

Liu kang hums, his own hand brushing along your fur. "I have decided, yes. But I'd rather keep it to myself until the time arrives."

You nod in understanding, turning your gaze back to the champions, eyes glued to one in particular. He was the sweetest man you've ever laid your eyes on. You could remember clearly when Liu Kang first arrived with the initiatives and your heart thumped. It was like love at first sight and because of it, you feared of showing them your human form, especially to Raiden.

You snapped out of your thoughts noticing the orange hue of the sunset. "Has time truly passed this quickly?" You questioned to yourself.

Liu Kang then placed your small body back onto the ground. You look up to him and he tilts his head in the direction of Raiden, a small smile on his face. You stuck your tongue out at him and quickly padded your way after him.

Raiden hadn't noticed you following him, your small paws making it extremely difficult for him to hear you, but you halted your steps as you saw him turn into the path that led straight to the Wu Shi hot springs. Your mind quickly flourished with many thoughts of Raiden's physic and you suddenly felt light-headed.

"Should I follow him? Ugh I'm such a creep. What will he think if I showed him my human form? Would he still like me?!"

You cursed under your breath, tiny paws taking slow steps one after another until you arrived to the hot springs. And there he was, his chest and lower half submerged in the hot liquid. Your mouth went dry as your cat like eyes stared at him. He was completely unaware, head tilted back with his eyes shut, a small smile on his face as he let out a satisfied sigh.

You slowly approached him, knowing damn well all he had was a white little towel around his waist to cover him. Your paws dapped the water, testing the temperatures before entering. Even though it was shallow, your tiny body felt as if it were a lake. Tiny paws swishing in the water to keep you afloat.

Raiden's eyes flickered open, seeing you swimming in tiny circles. "Y/n?" He calls. "I thought cats didn't like water." He chuckles.

You meow, because what else could you possibly do without freaking him out.

He then moves forward and your brain short-circuits. "Oh lord, oh lord, his body!!!" You internally squeal. His hands wrap around your tiny frame and pulls you close to his chest and your eyes were stunned. "Why did I do this to myself!"

He cuddles you into his chest, content with relaxing in the hot springs with you, but you were having an internal war in your head. Dirty thoughts swarming and torturing your mind.

In a panic, a soft poof sound erupts out of nowhere, pink smoke enveloping the entirety of the hot springs.

Raiden coughed a little, swatting away the strange pink smoke until the place had finally cleared. He placed his hands back on what he assumed would be the cat but was met with a bare. . . human chest. His hands now on someone's waist rather than a cats.

Your eyes met his and silence filled the area aside from the noises of the nightly critters. You gulped, fear consuming you as your legs were around Raiden's thighs, hands on his shoulder. "H-hi." You say nervously.

Raiden in complete shock, trails his eyes from your head to your waist and then back up at you. Quickly, his hands fly to his sides and his eyes shut. "I'm sorry!" He yells. "Um- who are you, if you don't mind me asking?" He questions, eyes still screwed shut.

"Y/n." You say feeling awkward about the whole situation, but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

"T-the cat. . .?" Raiden's eyes hesitantly open back up, quickly training them to only look at your face.

You nod. "I'm friend's with Liu Kang. . . I was supposed to introduce myself when you guys got here, but I never did- properly at least."

Raiden nods his head slowly and purses his lips. He was doing everything in his power not to get a boner from the way your ass was sat atop of him, a mere white towel separating you two.

"Umm," He looks away. "It's nice to finally meet you then, Y/n."

"Yeah same. I wasn't supposed to transform just now though. . ." Your voice trails off. "Perhaps a malfunction. . .?" You whisper to yourself, brows furrowed in thought.

Your eyes quickly shoot to Raiden's as you feel his hands place themselves on your hips. He gives you a sheepish smile, before guiding you off of him and standing. "I'll get you a towel, please stay here." He bows quickly and rushes off.

You watch him, eyes looking at his ass for a bit before your palms slap your flushed face. "God, I'm such a creep!"

By the time he came back, he helped you out of the hot spring and covered you up with the towel. You noticed how he had his attire back on besides his jacket. "Here," He gestures the fabric toward you. "It's going to be cold on the way back."

Your eyes flicker between the jacket and him, gingerly taking it from his hands and draping it around you. "Thank you." You look away in embarrassment.

Raiden smiles. "We should had back, it's late."

You agree, both you and Raiden walking back toward the academy grounds. You felt a little guilty as Raiden stood out in the cold, shirtless. It was a peculiar situation, you and Raiden casting each other glances without each other knowing. Raiden had to admit that you were extremely attractive and he never thought his mind would be addled with such lovey dovey scenarios. Perhaps in his younger days, but now? He had never pondered on such things till he laid his eyes on you.

Raiden cleared his throat. "Should I walk you back to where you stay?" He asks.

"No it's okay. I'd rather you get back first, after all I'm technically of higher status. I must make sure the champions are taken care of, then I'll head back to Lord Liu Kang." You say, head turning to look at Raiden. Raiden had his brows furrowed in thought and it worried you. "Is something wrong Raiden?" You ask.

He hesitates for a moment. "I um. . . you're relationship with Lord Liu Kang. . . is it-"

"We're just close friends, nothing more. Why? Are you looking to start something?" You tease him a little, your confidence growing as you grew more comfortable in your human form.

Raiden raises his hands up in embarrassment. "No no, I mean. . . it does sound nice. You're very attractive and I- nevermind. I'm rambling, sorry."

You chuckle and notice you guys arrived to Raiden's room.

Raiden lets out a disappointed sigh. "I'll be seeing you then?" He says.

You shift in your spot, hand gripping onto his jacket. Your eyes shifting to the distance and then back to Raiden. You so badly didn't want this interaction to end, craving more time with the kind man.

"If it's not too much. Perhaps I could stay the night?" You nervously looked to him and his eyes widened.

His hand scratched the back of his neck, a creeping blush upon his features. "O-of course. You can definitely stay the night!" He says a bit more excited than he intended to.

He opens the door for you and you bow walking through. The scent of his room filling your nostrils. You smiled seeing how organized and clean it was.

"Someone knows how to take care of themselves." You give a halfhearted laugh.

Raiden chuckles. "I try, afterall I'm just a guest here."

You hum, sitting yourself on his bed. You were going to unzip Raiden’s jacket but halted, realizing that all you had was a towel to cover yourself without it. Raiden seemed to notice your concern and blinked in thought. "Sorry, maybe we didn't think-"

You were quick to cut him off, raising a hand to silence him. "It's okay. . .if you're okay with it. . ."

Raiden gulps. "I uh, yeah. I'm okay with it." He says, eyes watching how you began to strip yourself to nothing. And boy did Raiden keel over at the sight. You smirked and gestured your head to him, waiting for him to shed his clothing too.

By the time both you and Raiden settled on the bed, it was evident that it was not going to be a simple sleepover. Your body quickly going over his. “I might be selfish, but I don’t think I wanna just sleep here.” You whisper, ghosting your lips over Raiden’s. Your hand trailing up his arm to his neck.

Raiden’s eyes looked down at your lips, eyes now half-lidded, his breath becoming more heavy at the sexual tension. “I don’t think I just want to sleep either.” He says, hands massaging the sides of your body, his hardened dick swelling with need.

And your lips were on each other, hands passionately exploring each other's bodies throughout the night. The room was filled with the sounds of passionate sex, two lovers eager to discover more about each other and please each other beyond words as the night went on.

However, the next morning was extremely hectic as Raiden was swarmed with questions on what he did last night- hickeys littering his neck and collarbone.

Liu Kang slowly turned his head to you in your cat form with the biggest smirk a cat could ever have.

"Y/n." He calls your name in a serious tone.

"Yeahhh???" :3

╰┈➤ masterlist

Plaga Papa [Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Las Plagas! Leon Kennedy x Reaer

Rating: T (brief sexual innuendo)  Content Warning(s): Plagas! Leon, hint of body horror

Word Count: 1035 –

“Leon! Your son is on top of the refrigerator again!” 

You called out, looking up helplessly from your stool as your son hissed at you from on top of the tall appliance. This was a regular bedtime occurrence for you, since the small child of yours hated having a bedtime. You knew it couldn’t be the plagas he had inherited from his father, but it was the stubbornness instead. 

A stubborn toddler, with superhuman abilities. 

You could hear your husband’s approaching footsteps from his office as you tried to reason with the boy, holding your arms out as welcoming as you could. “Come on Luis, it’s past your bedtime.” You begged.

“No! Bedtime bad!” Luis shouted, small spikes bristling on his back. His eyes were a bold red, as he scooted farther on the surface of the refrigerator, toppling over empty containers of Tupperware. 

Afficher davantage

hi i love your work so much omg

…what do you think of the scenario of monster!141 x (platonic, if you want, it’s probably for the better) reader that’s made up of thousands of worms/spiders/or whatever creatures. reader is always covered up in clothes that cover up the entire ‘skin’ and they speak extremely weirdly/like everything’s speaking all at once and the voice is just sounding from the mouth but also in the torso? and legs? . the thing is that reader is shy or something and doesn’t want to admit that they’re just a hive mind of creatures, but it’s just kinda obvious not really (well obvious to monster 141). 141 doesn’t really want to comment on it because they’re just nice like that and find ways to help Reader get through some situations lmao (help i’m sleep deprived and i made this thought in 3 AM ish).

i give you a piece of 🧀

Many

Pairing: Platonic Monster 141 + König & Horangi x monster!reader

Cw: spiders, blood, military inaccuracies, canon-typical violence, cannibalism? Eating human, hive mind monster, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.9k (A/N): I’m gonna be honest with y’a, I went on a spree and completely forgot what you first asked for but uh… I used some of your ideas and I hope it’s apparent enough?

For someone as decorated as you were, you were awfully timid, shying from human and hybrid interaction like a plague. Perhaps it was unintentional, the stiffness in your shoulders or the constant coverage, but to the world around you, you were nothing but an awkward person whose social cues were lost to time after more than a decade in the force. Starting your days covered head to toe, black over more black, or khaki and brown over more khaki and brown depending on the situation of your stay and deployment. 

Despite your social anxiety, your voice stayed strong and unwavering in the field, a cold, monotone voice that would coordinate the team if needed —you were a prolific intelligence specialist, that found your calling in intelligence gathering from the deepest and darkest pits, and an infiltration specialist that was sought out for your proficiency and successful operations worldwide, especially the undercover Ops done in secrecy. You’ve led a few clandestine Ops with Laswell for 141, the Station Chief letting you lead and direct them, trusting your insights and they always resulted in successful missions, coming back bruised and battered but alive and securing the cargo (or whatever they were sent there for). 

That meant that they knew you, your voice, your confident tone when you directed them, your unwavering decisions and your helpful guidance, but they hadn’t seen you until a few months ago. You were officially assigned to Task Force 141 as their Intelligence and Infiltration specialist, working on and off. This would be the first time you actively moved to the front, standing beside them during infiltrations, slipping into the enemy base with efficiency and silence. You moved as if you were a part of the shadows, melting into the darkness and disappearing from any camera and scans, your body invincible to infrared cameras or heat sensors. 

You moved with fluid motions, your body incredibly - scarily - flexible and seemingly aware of everything around you. To humans, you were probably the most skillful and abnormal human, born with talents that far rivalled those of hybrids, and a saviour to some for being able to keep them alive even through the hardest moments of their capture; but to monsters, to hybrids, you were special, a different type of creature that held a different category in the classes, one that humans knew little outside of the government and military. 

Whereas humans saw you as a stiff and socially awkward human that covered their whole body, TF141 knew better, they could sense it a mile away, the difference in you, the odd aura and smell you projected. Soap and König had mentioned it in the past, in the bustling Mess hall where they shared a table, Soap had noted that you smelled off, of something dead yet alive and König only brought the oddness of you holding thousands of different scents, musks that didn’t originate from one place, but from around the world. 

Gaz and Horangi gave off-handed comments about sudden movement under your clothes, a slight - near invisible - ripple under your neck or on your arm, their eyes zoning to the smallest of movements. Gaz brought it up first, his voice hesitant and confused, frowning down at his plate when he mentioned it to the others, only to feel reassured that he wasn’t imagining it, the small ripple that no one else perceived, when Horangi shared his own observations. Horangi had seen small black spots moving over your shirt and under the tight mask hiding your face, tiny-legged creatures climbing over you and vanishing under your clothes as if they were never there. 

Rudy was the best at understanding people, sympathising with both monsters and humans, but you just seemed lost, a shy creature that always hid from others when you weren’t needed. He and Alejandro remembered when they spoke to you after an Op, catching up to you before you fled to hide in your room, your tone was soft and shy, but it seemed to come from everywhere, never staying in one place as if there wasn’t a source to your voice. One moment your voice would come from your face, and then the next, it’d be down your abdomen, every word you spoke came out of a different area, but your chin never moved, face still and unmoving. 

They brought it up to Ghost, who’d sit with them at their table, pushed against the wall for privacy around human soldiers, since he - leaving out Price - knew you best, having worked with you a few times in the past where they needed your expertise in infiltration and hostage securing. They had hoped that Ghost could give them a few insights on you, whether it be about your kind or your uniqueness, they wanted something - anything - to quell their growing curiosity. Not only was Ghost one of their only sources of information, but he was also a paranoid one, always demanding an operator's file before and after they joined, his mind going through loops to calculate the danger of the new addition. Ghost was a guarded and walled-up character, ensuring that they wouldn’t betray him in the long run.

Unfortunately, Ghost knew as little as they did, Price was stricter with your information, keeping it under a hard lock and key. Only he and Laswell held information about you, your little quirks and details were a secret to anyone who wasn’t in the higher-ranked stations or the commanding rank and station chief. They had nothing to go on but theories, little hypothesis until Price or Laswell - whichever caved first to their incessant pleading - disclosed your personal file. So they did what they could with their observations, combining up with different monsters they’ve crossed paths with. You could’ve been one of those crossbred hybrids where they coupled for specific perks, or an experiment, seeing that you had an aversion to physical touch and human interactions. The least possible one, by far, was that you were an Eldritch being, a creature of horror and madness. 

“Classified for now, sergeant,” was all Price had told Soap when he cracked, his puppy-like excitement getting the best of him. “You’ll have to ask them, yeah?”

That left them with little to no choice but to watch you more closely, to observe their surroundings for any clues and to note anything bizarre since they couldn’t necessarily outright ask you. You fled seconds after anyone tried to start a conversation, head down and feet moving too swiftly to not seem like you were avoiding them or any long discussion as if you knew what they were planning. You seemed to have eyes at the back of your head, reacting instantly when one of them would follow you wherever you went, slinking from one shadow to the other, trying their best to hide from your sight and sense, but you were an expert in your own right, knowing and aware of undercover tactics when one was used against you.

Fortunately for them, other clues helped, subtle signs that most people wouldn’t even catch. The first one was small, jerky spiders that weren’t local to the UK or any continent, they weren’t like any arachnid they’d ever found, that was the first thing they noticed when they came across one, but the true challenge was to catch one of those pesky things. They were quick and small, evading them as if they had a mind of their own, their bites painful if one of them tried to grab it with a hand, the tiny fangs piercing through the thick material of their gloves, but once Soap got his paws on one, he made sure to keep it in the glass container. The spider was small, its exoskeleton so dark that it seemed to swallow any light rather than reflect it, a shade of black so black that it didn’t let any colours out. It didn’t look hairy, the shell so smooth and spotless that it seemed like two circles if they ignored the scrawny legs. 

Those spiders were almost everywhere, yet they went unnoticed by the people walking around the base and them until now. Other than the spiders, your aversion to physical contact and socialising, and favouring your privacy much more than anyone on the TF. You didn’t eat with them —you never seemed to eat at all. Your voice moved so often that the possibility of you having many mouths came to mind a lot. Your body was extremely nimble, bending in odd - sometimes painful for others - ways. Over other observations, everything they took notice of you were things that were inhuman, it made you a minority in the military - much like them - and a mystery to your team. 

They went on for months, unbothered that they might have seemed slightly obsessive, a stalker following his obsession. They weren’t worried about others calling them out, humans would chalk it up to monster stuff with a sneer and look the other way when Ghost or König glared at them. That didn’t escape you, Price or even Laswell’s eyes and ears around the world. 

“You boys don’t know when to stop, hmm?” Price wore a frown, brows cocked questioningly. His tone was one of a tired and relenting to their months-long search. “You’re lucky they weren’t mad about this.”

“So you’ll tell us, boss?” Ghost hid his excitement better than the rest, his chest rumbling lowly and eyes narrowed darkly, but not with a dangerous gleam. 

“Better if you see it yourself,” he sighed, crossing his arms, hunching against his chair, lip quirking at a corner. It was a cheeky lopsided smile, teasing them with having to wait longer. “It’s hard to explain in words. It’s quite the sight.”

And a sight it was! Watching you melt to the ground, your body scattering in thousands of small spiders that moved towards the body lying before you. You’d been paired with Ghost and Soap for this Op, leading them down a path you knew didn’t have any hostiles, getting intel back from the many spiders scattered around the area. They were the first to watch you eat, arachnids swallowing up the bodies, devouring them at record speed. You ate flesh and bones, ligaments and tendons melted by your acidic bite that only left clothes behind as an indication that someone died here. They were the lucky ones to see you eat, to bear witness to your monstrosity in the flesh and your moment of weakness where you had to sustain yourself, shedding off the shape of a human body.

It left Soap filled with awe, seeing you break away in thousands of individual bodies and come back together as one, and Ghost’s mind strewed with questions, some answered when you told them that you were self-conscious, a hive mind made up of spiders to form a body. You weren’t hiding away because you were afraid of them or that you hated socialising, you were simply too self-aware of your making, of the natural fear of eight-legged creatures. So you hid, shying away from people, thinking that they’d hate you for being what you were, a colony of undocumented spiders working as one. 

Horangi, Rudy and Alejandro caught you in action on the second covert operation when you were given the signal to lead your small squad into enemy lines. They watched the clothes you wore ripple, little critters bulging out from under your protective gear and rolling down your body in waves, black masses dropping off and separating. You were spread around the place, everyone acting as an extension of your mind and body, and they were —thousands of spiders sharing one mind. You shrank lightly, your body mass lower than it was with your body spanned across the area, working as your eyes and ears from afar like cameras worked for Laswell, except that your reach was farther and more potent. 

It was expected, but not less surprising to the three, watching your body shorten and little spiders crawl all over you. It would’ve made the hardiest monster shudder in fear or repulsion, feeling hundreds of legs moving about over their body, it would’ve made them slightly apprehensive, knowing from Soap and Ghost that your bite could be acidic, melting tough muscle and robust bone. It made more sense as to why you were so nimble and so observant, you had parts of yourself scattered around, working to map out everything and see everything. You were what made you so sought after for your skills in clandestine missions and covert infiltrations, it was scarily inspiring.

Gaz and König were the unlucky ones, being in the wrong place at the wrong time to see you “die”. With how unlucky his streak with helicopters was, it wasn’t a surprise that he was falling from another one, his wing bleeding from a bullet wound, the copper piercing through the meat and grazing the bone. It had him handicapped for the next few missions, staying on base until it healed completely unless he wanted to cause a bigger issue with his third pair of limbs. You were medevaced, watching Gaz grunt and groan, holding his wounded wing against his chest with a face screwed in pain. He’d been in an unfortunate situation, being purposely targeted by the enemy, and the situation couldn’t get any worse. 

The helicopter was shot down, and the flares deployed too late to stop the missile. It was a fiery mess, there was screaming and the loud crack of metal breaking, you could hear Laswell yell out in the coms, her worried and frantic voice trying to reach you and Gaz in the falling blaze. Most harpies feared fire, the flames burning their feathers and scarring the skin, making it impossible to regrow feathers on some rare occurrences. Gaz couldn’t remember much after the fall, waking up in pitch darkness, his skin crawling with shivers and invisible hands. He couldn’t make out left from right, he didn’t know if he was lying face down or on his back, and he wasn’t even sure he was conscious, seeing that all he could see was black. Then he felt sudden movement, a prickly sensation covering his body until light broke through.

He could feel his arms and his legs, he could stretch his wing out when he sat up, he wasn’t burned or hurt more than what he had before the crash, but he couldn’t see you when he looked around. He palmed the ground, feeling around the rough floor for you, your small, black spiders. You were on and around him, slowly climbing off him and flocking to a large mass. Your clothes were gone, burned to ashes in the mess while you shielded him, taking the brunt of the heat and burns. He swallowed down the quake that wracked his body and rushed to you, frantic to see whether or not you were in pain. Rather than forming back into a human, your appearance resembles more of a large mammal on four, clawed legs. Seeing that you were fine - or so he thought - he called back for evac, getting cover with your prone figure guarding him until the other helicopter and support came back.

König’s accident was more vicious than Gaz’s, losing control of his urges, letting himself shift and rampage through the area, ripping apart both enemy and ally. You were another body in his path, his claws tearing through your chest with sharp, bloodied hands. The others panicked, watching you scatter into pieces, falling apart from the seams as if someone had pulled out the only string that held you together. Instead of blood and guts, intestines that should’ve called out in a bloody mess, you broke apart, some fell to the ground, crushed under König’s weight, and others clung to him, swarming to stop him before he caused more chaos. 

It looked like a futile attempt from outside viewpoints, watching the beast stumble blindly, his face covered, your thousand pairs of legs locked to keep his mouth closed from causing more harm to others with his serrated teeth made to gnaw through bone and break flesh and muscle to consume and feed his big appetite. They could only stare at König trash around, limbs slowly being locked together, bounding his arms from flailing and slashing at people and his leg from blindly ambling and rushing towards his next victim. You rippled around König, a mass becoming a full-body restraint containing the hybrid’s grunts and growls, unmoving and unrelenting against him. 

You kept König’s rampage in check, keeping him contained while they moved both you and him to the aircraft and back to base where they could wait out the shift, the burst of rage in the hybrid. Gaz had thrown you a bundle of clothes after König fell asleep, you slipped off and crawled to your clothes, reappearing in a human shape under all your protective layers. Although they knew you could take extensive damage and survive unscathed, they still worried, would your strength still held together with a chaotic mix of human resilience and percht invulnerability.

You seemed to have let yourself go a bit, letting Soap or Gaz drag you around the base, letting Rudy and Alejandro strike up a conversation, letting Ghost or König sit with you in silence, and letting Horangi get the jump on you and follow you soundlessly because he was curious (and answering his questions). You might not eat with them, but you swallowed down your fright and agreed to sit at their table while they ate, digging into their preferred meal and occasionally replying to their friendly banter. You were still nervous about spending so much time in public, the looming fear of being faced with disgust from your allies was still possible, but you - with the supporting pat on the shoulder from Price - worked through your storming thoughts and insecurities. 

Tag list: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel

Hello!! Can I request about monster task force 141 + könig & horangi, if thats alright for you!

Where reader is a pyramid head instead and I like to see their reaction reader having a pyramid head c:

EXCUSE ME!? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME WITH THIS ASK?!???!? Cuz if you are, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I am still breathing! I might be kneeling for this concept, but I am still breathing.

Pyramid Head!reader

Headcanon

Pairing: Monster 141 + König + Horangi x male?reader

Cw: blood, gore, canon-typical violence, gun violence, betrayal, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2k

You looked like you came right out of a horror game, a tall, muscular figure hidden under black and dark brown fatigues, thick thighs supporting the big, rusted pyramid that hung from your head and stocky arms that could bend a man in half as easily as it was to rip paper in two. Despite being slow and stumbling around, you were an entity to bring on high-stakes missions, letting you break through their defences with a heavy hand and even heavier attacks, crashing through walls and stalking the walls for your next victim.

They were all shocked when Price talked them into accepting you,  gathering them into the debrief room with your file, or your lack of one. It wasn’t easy, having you permanently transferred to their Task Force when you were so sought out by other teams for help as a long-standing mercenary and an entity. So Price was overjoyed that  Laswell had managed to get you to themselves, waiting for you at the tarmac on the day you were to land. 

Mixed feelings were being shared between his team when they watched you amble down the slope, head hung lowly, the tip inches from the ground. You were intimidating in person, seeming much bigger than life, finally being able to see you rather than hear of you, the haunting reputation that followed you around like a shadow. You weren’t a Ghost, someone reputed for having no living record and past, or his intimidating presence; nor were you a scary mercenary from KorTac, dangerous and imposing. You weren’t an efficient and fast-moving unit like the 141, you were just a one-man army powerful enough to rip a man in two and wield that heavy Greatsword, and despite it being a bit old-fashioned, you used better than man could use a rifle. 

Price, as first mentioned, was glad his hard work came to fruition, having someone like you on his side when it mattered was amazing. He might’ve been slightly worried about his boys reacting negatively towards you, Ghost, especially with his volatile hate and distrust of strangers. Only to be reassured when he saw how, unlike the way you carried yourself on the field, you were a gentle soul, a silent one but caring nonetheless. He watched you take care of his boys, wandering behind Gaz or Rudy when they returned injured, a looming figure that cast a protective shadow over them. You were like a pillar, solid and dependable, going out of your way to get anyone that strayed behind, turning your head at a slight angle to stop a bullet from hitting the one you were protecting, and caring for them. He may not be able to hear you speak a word, to be able to hold a conversation and listen to you tell them how much you cared about him and the others, but he knew you loved - he knew you were able to love. 

Ghost was distrustful of you, one with a shadow as big as yours or someone he’d worked alongside before. He kept you at an arm’s length, never too close to him so he could protect himself from another betrayal, the hurt and the sadness that came along with being betrayed by someone he trusted, and never too far so that he could watch you, analyse every thought or act you made, to stop you from hurting them before you could. He’s seen you in the field and worked on the same side, he knew that every little detail about you on the reports was true, not illusions and delusions, but factual events that happened with you beside them. He won’t lie, you were an asset - he hated using that word on any hybrid, monster or entity, but it was the truth - that people vied for and they were just lucky that you had their back and they had your undying loyalty. Your occasional sparring with him, Price and König only reinforced your care for them, holding back until he barked at you to fully come at him, you’d hesitate, but never for long. You cared for him as he cared for the others, he could see it, and now, his care was extended to you as well.

Soap was like an excited puppy meeting a new friend, past the intimidating facade and the trailing shadow behind you, you were nice. You reminded him of Ghost and König, the tall, imposing and silent figure, but unlike them, you only replied in grunts and groans, your body language being the biggest way for them to understand you. You were patient with him, bearing with his overenthusiastic tail that kept tapping your thigh and arm whenever or his rambling, your large pyramid nodding slowly, humming when you agreed with him and grunting when you disagreed. You were fun to be around, when he, Rudy and Gaz went around, bringing you along with him to play a little game, you wouldn’t snitch and you wouldn’t say a word, only shaking your head when Price or Ghost asked if they were behind it (the Captain and Lieutenant went along, seeing as they could enjoy themselves after a hard and stressful mission). He could be as shamelessly chaotic as he wanted with you, he didn’t have to entertain the egos of others or maintain a certain level of dignity, he could be himself like he could with the others. He didn’t feel like a burden beside your lengthy shadow, he felt like he was protected, and safe, but most importantly, he felt loved.

Gaz was tentative, not overly enthusiastic as Soap nor as suspicious as Ghost, he was a good mix of them both, guarded but welcoming. He didn’t mind sitting next to you and being the one to start the conversation since you always replied in hums and groans, hands moving to form the words that you couldn’t form under the pyramid. He only truly became comfortable when you went to the trouble of going back for him, stomping through the group that surrounded him when he crashed down, watching you rip the enemy apart with your swinging Greatsword that was too heavy for anyone to lift was breathtaking. Despite witnessing a scene right out of a slasher movie, his teammate in a rusted, pyramid head soaked in blood and guts, you gave him a hand and took his hand with the gentlest squeeze he ever felt. Then the little stunt you helped cover when he, Soap and Rudy were caught doing a prank on one of their leading commanders. He could depend on you, practising sign language to better understand you and simply wanting to hold the hands that saved him.

Alejandro, as usual, was easy to get along with, his charismatic and warm mannerism was easier to open up to. He might’ve been betrayed and lied to many times, but he knew a liar when he saw one after the whole Shepherd fiasco, so he knew you meant well (not that he could see your face for any indications). Unlike others of his rank, he preferred the respect given through comradery over respect through rank, he kept close to the people he worked with in the long run, forming bonds to cherish like he did with the Los Vaqueros and the men of 141. Withholding the same idea, he worked his way through your file and approached you with someone who’d won his respect and admiration from the black Ops you participated in and the people you bled to save. It was a quality he liked about you. While still being professional, he held you, he encouraged you, he embraced you just the way you were, and you reciprocated it without a second thought. 

Rudy had his reservations about you, something strong, something big, something powerful, something caring, but never something deadly, dangerous or selfish. From what Alejandro told him, he couldn’t bring himself to be doubtful of your loyalty and devotion, and from what he’s seen on the field, you weren’t deserving of the reputation of a bloodthirsty monster that followed you as it did Ghost and König. You had something that made you stand out, maybe it was the contrast in your character when you looked so menacing: your softness, the gentle edge in your actions, the comforting quality in your muted response, and your active protection on and off the field. He appreciated the way you brought more to the Task Force, another pillar of stability, another ear to rant to, another person to hold, or another friend to laugh with. Even the little pranks he’d join in on, getting his commanding officers red with rage and breathless from laughing and leaving you to cover for them, your hands speaking the words you couldn’t mutter outside of simple sounds. He often ended up in the same predicament when he couldn’t stop himself, cheeks rosy and warm, heart beating fast, fingers fumbling with each other and words coming out in breathless puffs, he knew what he felt and he wasn’t so bothered by it.

Horangi wasn’t sure what to make of you, you weren’t quite human, nor were you a monster, you were a mix of both, a creation of human and monster grief and pain. Little was known about entities and Eldritch beings, and being a feline monster made him naturally curious, or slightly curious. He observed you, watching you from afar without actually interacting with you, slinking around you, golden eyes narrowing at you like a tiger in a hunt. He didn’t dare approach you until he got to know your small cues, the danger you could pose - if you could pose any from what he saw, too gentle for the creature you were - to him or the others. He only stepped forward to talk to you when König made him, feel skittish and slightly awkward for feeling like such a stranger towards someone who took multiple bullets for him when he was down. He held his head high and voice stable while he pushed through his awkwardness, listening to your soft hums and low grunts in reply to his words, he was surprised to see König so engaged in this conversation when he had an aversion towards new people. Honestly, he was just surprised that König talked so much about you. If there was anything good, he would be the first to hear about it from König. He came to know you through König and the time you spent together on missions, hostage rescue and noisy infiltrations. Your small ticks, your little quirks and your verbal handicap were all things he came to learn and like, nearly making it his duty to watch you from the side as you stumble through the halls with your back hunched over from the weight of your pyramid.

König didn’t try approaching you until he absolutely had to, or if he needed you. Be it to give you an order, to ask you something, or during Ops, it would only be a few words here and there, never something long-drawn as he had with the other men or Laswell. It was only after being sent on a quick and easy task that he let you in, letting you calm him down after his unpredictable shift and grounding him, taking back control of his erratic mind after a rough shift of mindset, from a primal and instinctual one to a rational and panicked one. Your rough calluses felt soft against his hard, scarred skin, the soothing circle of your thumb on his palm and the grip to keep him aware of his situation, to keep him grounded on his reality after the carnage he created. Despite not being able to talk, you spoke loudly through your verbal cues, your hand on your shoulder and another one in his hand, listening to him ramble away about his fears and anxieties. You would sit down with him and lend an ear to him when he came to you, even after his first interactions with you. He wondered if you had similar fears, those demoralising words that echoed in his mind on the worst days or the painful reminder of his mistakes. If you did, would you let him ease you down from your pain and care for you with his smaller hands?

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973