Max Thompson X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Hello loves! So I've been writing cute little drabbles here on Tumblr about the killers taking care of a reader on their period. The layout is fairly simple. Basically the reader and killer live in a house together (not in the Dead By Daylight realm) and are already in a relationship. So far I've written about Jeffrey and Herman.

And I'd like to give you loves a chance to vote for who I should write next. Down below is a list of killers I'm willing to write.

Michael Myers

Evan MacMillan

Frank Morrison

Caleb Quinn

Bubba Sawyer

Freddy Krueger

Rin Yamaoka

Sally Smith

Julie Kostenko

Jason Voorhees

Pyramid Head/The Executioner

Pinhead

Max Thompson

Ji-Woon Hak

The drabbles will be simple and sweet. Romantic but not smutty. As always, they're for emotional support. Depending on the killer, some of them will be silly, serious or sappy. I hope you'll enjoy.

Killer reactions to a reader who had their pants pulled down while they were on a hook. (Part two).

Evan

He heard one of his traps being dismantled near where you were hooked and swiftly went to investigate. He had imagined your team mates would have pulled you off by the time he arrived, but... Apparently not.

"No, no- stop!" He heard you shout, turning the corner just in time to see Jake tearing your pants and underwear down to your ankles. You were struggling and shouting, trying desperately to cover your naked crotch.

Rage boiled deep inside his gut at the disrespectful, offensive display. How dare Jake treat one of his own members this way.

Releasing a loud, bear like growl, Evan chased after the unsuspecting coward, cornering him into a trap and killing him. By the time he passed by your hook, he heard you crying softly and slowed in his tracks. For some reason, he didn't know why, he couldn't find it in himself to just leave you like this...

Turning around, he kept his head lifted and slowly approached you. At the sight of him, you flinched and cried harder, and it put a rod in his chest. "Want me to pull em up for ya?" He asked as calmly as he could manage.

You sniffled, looking at him in baffement and humiliation, your voice a quiet whisper, "Yes please."

Evan did it fast, stepping up to you and leaning down to pull your pants up. Once he was done, he took in your humiliated stance and reached out to gently cup your chin and tilt your head up, "I'm sorry they done this to ya, but it ain't so bad."

He brushed your cheek gently for a moment before letting go and turning away, "Keep your head up, darlin'."

Max

Everyone knew that he was an extremely sensitive person, and some times people tried to take advantage of that- like the times when survivors would flirt with him or get in suggestive poses; they knew he couldn't handle it without getting flustered and angry, his ability to focus shattered.

But this... This was different.

"Oh Max," Kate had whistled, "(y/n) here has something they wanna show you." And then she yanked your pants and underwear down.

Max had immediately flinched and gone to cover his eyes, the sound of your loud, horrified screaming causing him to hurt on the inside. Why were they doing this? You were hooked, they should be helping you, not... Not this.

Unable to look at you, Max took in the sounds of your loud cries, whimpers and whines and realized that this wasn't something you were purposely a part of. Your team mates were taking advantage of you like they constantly tried to take advantage of him, and he could tell how much it was bothering you.

Officially too shy to even look at you while you were half naked, Max ran off and did his best to kill Kate and the other two survivors. At the end he found you hiding by the shack, the hatch just a few meters behind him.

Dropping his chainsaw and hammer, Max stood aside and gestured to the hatch. It took you a few minutes, but you finally came walking out, your body tense, shaky and nervous. You couldn't make eye contact with him.

"Thank you," You whimpered gratefully, "I-I'm sorry about the..."

Max shook his head and uttered a soft growl. When you looked at him with a smile, he blushed and closed his eyes. For the first time, he wasn't flustered.

Ji-woon

He returned after hearing excessive screaming from where you were hooked, his chest flaring in anger at the thought of someone touching what was soon to be his. He worried that you might be being assaulted, and when he arrived at your hook, he cursed in Korean at the sight of you.

Your pants and underwear had been pulled down, and you were panicking in a struggle to cover yourself. Ji-woon saw red. "Who did this?" He demanded to know as he sprinted up to you.

You gasped, crying harder as you shook your head and looked away, utterly humiliated and afraid, "Élodie did it."

That monster. "Did she touch you?" Ji-woon asked, his teeth baring in dangerous rage.

Relief flooded him when you shook your head, but still... This was unacceptable. "I'll pull them up, yes?" He softened his voice while gesturing to your pants.

"Please." You whimpered, shaking lightly as he bent down and pulled your pants up.

Once that was done, Ji-woon looked at you and smiled, one hand slowly reaching up to cup your cheek. "I promise," He grinned at you with an almost endearing, psychotic blush, "I will get you revenge."

And then off Ji-woon went, leaving you in a pit of shock. Later after you got unhooked, you would discover Élodie's hooked body mutilated and... Pantsless. Revenge achieved.

Pinhead/Elliot Spencer

Elliot wouldn't deny that he had preferences. You weren't very far up on his list of favorite survivors to torture, and more often than not he subconsciously allowed you to escape him. But some times there were trials where he had to hook you at least once to please the Entity.

This was one of those trials.

Having sensed odd commotion from the area you were hooked, he went to investigate only to go immobile in shock and disbelief that soon melted into pity and frustration. The other survivors had pulled your pants down thus leaving you exposed, humiliated and vulnerable.

Whenever you noticed his presence, you brutally shook your head in embarrassment, anger and shame, your hands trembling as they covered your privates. You refused to look at him, your shoulders hitching with small, quiet cries.

Rules be dammed, Elliot lifted his arms out, summoned four chain/hooks and carefully used them to grab hold of the edges of your pants. You startled at this but otherwise remained still, watching the hooks with breathless awe as they worked your pants back up your legs.

Yanking your pants up the rest of the way yourself, the hooks around you disappeared with a clatter. Elliot stared at you with his usual monotony, observing the nervous yet grateful expression on your face as you offered him a timid, thankful wave. Hmp.

Elliot left with a light smirk. Perhaps now you would be more open to accept his offers of pleasure.

Wesker

When he finds you, all he can do is stand there and stare. You were one of the more efficient survivors- one that always gave him a run for his money. To see you this unhinged, this defeated and vulnerable... It, well...

It made him furious. Compared to you the other survivors were ants, and the fact that they felt the need to take advantage of you in such a state made his blood boil. How dare they.

"Stop staring at me," You screamed at him, your face flushed, body shaking and hands covering your exposed crotch.

Blinking behind his sunglasses, Wesker mentally shook himself from his thoughts and slowly began to walk forward, "My, my... I didn't take you as one to so easily break under pressure."

"Go away- don't come any closer," You shouted, your voice so passionate and defensive and true.

God, you had no idea what kind of effect you had on him. Wesker smirked, "You know, requesting help is not a crime. You should be smarter than that."

At that, you had gone silent, your eyes on him and filled with distrust, embarrassment and anger. For a few seconds you were hesitant, but then you quietly mumbled, "Will you help me? Please..."

It took all of his effort not to grin. "Since you asked nicely," He nearly closed the space between you as he bent down and pulled your pants up. "I must say," He whispered lowly, looking you in the eye, "You are exquisite in more ways than one, (y/n)."

Pyramid Head/The Executioner

He's good at reading auras even from far away, so when he hears a shout and senses your ill distress, he follows. And soon he comes to the wild scene of you frantically trying to cover your naked crotch while Nea and Nancy raced away in a hurry.

They had pulled your pants down, he realized with a swell of empathy. You weren't the only victim of this particular method of humiliation and immaturity. Many times now the survivors had taken advantage of his lack of speed and succeeded in pulling his own pants down.

You had never done anything like that to him before though. In fact you were a rather kind, modest person- a rare one that he envied and respected. Just like him, you didn't deserve this type of childish torment.

As he walked forward, constantly emitting monstrous growls, you trembled and shook your head, stuttering in fear, "N-no please. Stay-stay away, please. I'm sorry- just please... Stay away."

And when he was right in front of you, you really began to panic, "No please! I'm sorry, please. Please stay away. No!"

Using one hand, the Executioner grabbed an edge of your pants and sloppily drug them up until you were able to reach them yourself. Once you had them back over your hips, he stepped away and quietly observed you.

You bore an expression of gratitude and surprise, your eyes glossy as you gaped at him, "Thank you."

Nodding once, the Executioner left you in search for Nea and Nancy. Don't worry (y/n), he was going to get you some revenge. Maybe later you both could share your stories.

(A big thanks to the lovely EroismPro and Enigma-System for helping me choose what killers to use- give momma Weirdo some smooches you two, *mwah*, I love you! Also, shout out to any other interested viewers, I'm happy to make a part three, so if you want then just leave a comment on which killer you'd like to see in here. Thank you so much for reading).

Killers who give the most kisses. Non-binary reader insert. Made for those who love fluff.

(Killers include: Bubba Sawyer. Jeffrey Hawk. Herman Carter. Evan MacMillan. Michael Myers. Max Thompson. Sally Smithson. Carmina Mora).

...

Bubba

Without a doubt, Bubba gives the most kisses. Any time, anywhere, it does not matter. He is always peppering you with kisses.

Oh, you just got back from talking to a friend? Smooch! You've been gone so long (y/n), he missed you. Smooch, smooch, smooch. (Literally, you were only gone for five minutes).

Snoozing? Kiss! You look so cute when you're asleep. He simply can't resist. Even sleeping you deserved all the love and attention he could give. While you're lying there snoozing, he'll lean over and plant gentle kisses all over your hands, arms, chest and face. He loves you so much.

Are you hurt? Oh, prepare for the ultimate overload of kisses. Whether it be a bad day you were suffering, a traumatic event or even if you simply stubbed your toe, Bubba is there to drown you with kisses. There's no escape. You're hurt. He needs to kiss all the sadness and pain away!

Bubba kisses you for pretty much every single reason imaginable. Are you laughing? Kiss! Are you reading? Kiss! Are you eating? Kiss, kiss, kiss! Are you on the toilet? Quick kiss! He can't help it. You make him so happy and he loves you so much, you deserve all the kisses.

Jeffrey

Jeffrey has kind of an oral fixation meaning he loves using his mouth, especially on you. Not a single inch of your body has been spared of his lips. He was always fondling you, pulling you close and kissing whichever area he pleased.

Jeffrey's kisses are more wet and thorough whenever you're alone, so that way he can taste you, enjoy you, make you feel good. He loves your soft skin, loves feeling it beneath his lips and hands. You were his treasure, and he worshipped you like a God.

Due to his shameless variety of kinks, Jeffrey ultimately enjoys kissing the weirdest places on your body like your back, feet, knees and... armpits. Yeah, he was kind of strange, but it just meant that he wasn't afraid to love every inch of you he possibly could. You're his beloved treasure, remember?

While in public, Jeffrey simply liked to pull you close and hold one of your hands to his lips. The smell and taste of your smooth skin comforted him, and he enjoyed layering kisses all over your beautiful fingers. If he was feeling bold, he would even kiss your ears and face to tease you and make you flustered.

It didn't matter who saw. Jeffrey's kisses are a statement of his love and appreciation for you.

Herman

Herman is probably the most romantic kisser there is. He loves taking his time with you, holding you close and pressing your mouths together, kissing slow and passionately.

Kissing Herman could some times last a while. Words could not describe how much he loved tasting you, drawing out the tender moments and making them last. He never used his teeth much, instead preferring to worship your skin with utmost care.

Neck kisses. Herman loves giving you neck kisses. He'll honestly kiss any part of your body you want him to, but your neck was his favorite- it was just so vulnerable and brought out the most gorgeous, succulent reactions from you. Gosh, you were so beautiful to him.

Your hands. Almost every single time you and Herman meet or depart, he always pressed a kiss to your hand. If you two are sitting close, some times he'll lift your hand, press it to his lips and hold it there for a while. Shh, just let him cherish you.

Herman's kisses are the definition of love, passion and appreciation. Not an hour will go by that you aren't kissed by him.

Evan

Due to the harsh conditions he grew up in, Evan isn't very prone to kissing much, but he loves it when you kiss him. Your soft, gentle lips on his mutilated body always made him feel as if he were in heaven, and it was because of that feeling that he fought to return the favor.

It took time and practice, but Evan eventually learned how to kiss you on the lips. He also learned how and where to kiss your body. And the best part? Evan was a fast learner, and when he learned things, he learned how to do them right.

Within weeks he went from being an amateur kisser with no skills to a practical God, kissing you wherever you wanted to be kissed and lavishing your beautiful skin. Some times he would use his teeth- if only to see you gasp and tremble in delight of course.

His favorite area to kiss is your face. You've been so patient with him, and you're so gorgeous and kind and dependable. Your smile lit up his dark world like a beacon. And if your kisses could make him feel as wonderful as they did, then he would always be kissing you back twice as much.

Michael

Talk about a five-star hickey designer. This man has no limitations when it came down to marking what was his. Does Michael love to kiss you? Ha, just look at the light red marks all over your body. Kinda goes without saying, you know?

Michael is the type of person who likes everyone else to know that you belong to him, and what better way to make a statement than to ravish you with deep, passionate kisses? And that was only a fraction of the reason why he kissed you so feverishly all the time.

The biggest reason Michael loved marking your skin so much was because of the noises and expressions you made. You were practically a saint, beautiful and delicate. Whenever he sucked on a spot that made you gasp, he was always filled with immediate satisfaction.

Safety and reassurance was another big reason. Whenever Michael needed comfort, he would lie on top of you and kiss your neck, chest and wrists- all the places where he could feel your beloved heartbeat. You were his love, his life, and he needed you always.

And when he kissed your lips, he was reminded that there was someone in this world who saw him as more than just a monster. You'd probably never know it, but Michael's kisses meant more than you could ever imagine.

Max

Whenever you first introduced him to the gentle, sweet, overwhelmingly loving luxury of kisses, Max was helpless against giving you his own form of kisses in return. Because his mouth can't shut all the way without discomfort, Max opt to pulling you close and pressing either his nose or chin gently where he wanted to kiss.

Get used to the pleasant sounds of soft growls, because Max always wanted to be kissing you. His favorite thing? You sitting on his lap with his arms wrapped around you so that he could lean his crooked mouth against the side of your head in what he considered a long lasting kiss.

Max isn't like most people. He's not perfect, and there are traditional things he can't do, but that doesn't stop him from doing what he can.

Occasionally, despite the pain, he'll close his lips together and give you little pecks on the mouth. Anything to show you how much he loved you. Whenever you smiled at him in pride and joy and praised him, he became instant mash-potatoes in your arms. More love please?

Max may not be the best kisser, but he's definitely the best at proving just how much he was willing to be the best he could ever be for you. Because he loved you. And, kisses or not, he would never stop loving you.

Sally

Oh, Sally loves giving you kisses all the time. Try leaving the room without a kiss and she'll either grumble or give you sad puppy eyes. Come on, Sal, really? You were literally just going to turn the lamp on.

Your cheeks are her favorite things to kiss. They're just so soft and warm, and she loved cuddling against you and pressing her lips there, holding you close and breathing in your comforting scent. Ah, you're so amazing, (y/n), she loved you so much.

When it comes down to kissing other, more intimate body parts, Sally is a little bit on the shy side, timid and uncertain of herself. What if she embarrasses you? Or what if you don't enjoy it? You've learned that the easiest fix for the solution is turning the lights off.

She's too shy to kiss in public, but when you're in a dark room by yourselves, she's much, much more open. Honestly, you're in for a world of treats. Sally may be sweet, but behind the curtains she's quite the hungry devil. Prepare yourself.

Sally has her insecurities, but around you she's willing to fight them in order of showing just how much she loved you.

Carmina

What's worse than not having a tongue? Not having a tongue to apologize.

Carmina is a special case. She loves kisses, and she especially loves kissing you, but there were dilemmas some times. Like when her mouth dripped ink- who wants to be kissed by that? No, you can't convince her it's okay. She's too embarrassed and ashamed.

So what does she do in replace of her real kisses? She summons sweet, friendly crows to kiss you for her. One by one they land on your arms and gently peck your nose, ears and chin, cawing softly in appreciation for they love you just as much as Carmina does.

When she is able to kiss you, she kisses your head, hands and chest. Because of her ink-arms, you had to support yourself, but it was no mind. As long as she got to love you she was happy.

Carmina loves it when you kiss her. Being basked in your gentle, loving attention made her feel normal, appreciated and worthy. She felt happiness and reassurance. Sure, some times she got down because of her mutilation, but you're understanding always helped her push through.

So... Accept these pecks of love and gratitude, *caw!*

Killer reactions to a legally blind reader who had their glasses stolen from them during a trial. (Part two).

Notes: Non-binary reader. Warnings for minor, non-graphic violence and character injury.

...

Ji-woon

He saw you struggling to walk through the forest, your arms spread out and feet stuttering in caution. Concern invaded, and he quickly ran up to you. When he noticed that you didn't have your glasses on, he asked suspiciously, "Where are your glasses?"

Ji-woon watched as you gasped and tensed up as if expecting an attack, and he frowned in dejection. "Uh? Don't be afraid," He reached down to gently grab your hand, saying reassuredly, "I'll help you escape, yes?"

"You... You'll help me? Really?" You timidly asked, your body still tense, "But... Why?"

"Oh," Ji-woon giggled, grinning big and blushing, "You are my favorite. I like you."

Seeing you gape like a fish caused Ji-woon to giggle even more in fondness and amusement. "You're so cute, (y/n)," He slowly guided you over to some boxes and had you sit down on one, "Wait here. I'll be back soon, uh?"

"O-ok," You nodded, hiding your bashful face, "Thank you."

Man, you were so freakin adorable. Ji-woon grinned maliciously and took off, his blood running hot with vengeance. Vengeance that didn't take but ten minutes to achieve, especially whenever he discovered your glasses broken in David's pocket. Those no good rats.

Returning to your side, Ji-woon reached out for your hand again and smiled, "Ready?"

"Yes," You say softly, blushing as he let you use him for support, "Thank you again."

Ji-woon puffed his chest out in pride. "Anything for you, aleumdaun."

Pinhead/Elliot Spencer

He felt the calling of the lament and, realizing that it was you who was summoning him, he immediately teleported to your location. When he arrived, he spotted you shyly standing near a pallet, your exposed eyes squinted harshly as you cautiously stood your ground.

"You solved the lament configuration," Elliot tilted his head in curiosity and hidden surprise, "But to what cause?"

You hesitated, looking fretful, "You... You said that if I solved the box then I... I would get a reward? Well... I-I want my glasses back. Please? Nea stole them."

A glimmer of a smirk shown within Elliot's piercing black eyes, "You have become bold, I see. Are you to assume that 'returning your glasses' is all I have in mind for you?"

"I..." You gaped, looking horrified and regretful, like you were imagining him torturing you, "I..."

"Stay here," Elliot demanded and briefly turned away. He was able to locate Nea, hook her and retrieve your glasses. When he returned to you, you had the most defeated, hopeless expression on your face, and it tore at his soul.

"I suppose the full extent of your reward can wait until another time," He said in a much more soothing tone than what he usually used, and he handed you your glasses. "I do not enjoy witnessing you treated with disrespect."

Fiddling with your glasses for a moment, you slid them on and looked up at him with flattered yet timid eyes, "Thank you, Elliot. Maybe... Maybe next time?"

Elliot smirked and swiftly turned around to leave, "I will be waiting."

Evan

He saw you walking around calling out for Jake to give you your glasses back and, at first, he chose to ignore you. Surely soon Jake would return them to you. Well...

Apparently not.

Several times Evan had crossed paths with you only to see you struggling every single time, looking lost and helpless. It pulled at his heart and made him angry. How could anyone treat you this way?

Remembering that it was Jake you were calling out for, Evan went and found the traitor, killed him and retrieved your glasses. Then he found you respectfully working on a generator. God... He liked you too dang much.

When you noticed him approaching, you tensed up and bowed your head in miserable acceptance. "Here, darlin'," Evan said, lifting your glasses out, "Think you're missin' these."

"Huh?" You blinked at him, the sight of your exposed eyes doing things to him. Taking your glasses back, you slid them on your face, stammering in gratitude, embarrassment and fear, "Th-thank you. Really. I'm... I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize," Evan took a few steps back to help ease your anxiety, "Ain't no one got an excuse good 'nough to treat ya that way."

You whimpered, covering your cheeks with your palms. So adorable. "Thank you."

Evan smiled beneath his mask and turned away, damming Jake for his shenanigans and yet also thanking him at the same time. Let's just say, he really enjoyed this trial.

Pyramid Head/The Executioner

He doesn't know much about human anatomy but he does know that those glass things help you see. He's also good at sensing distress and emotional turmoil, and during this trial you were utterly decomposed unlike usual.

And the Executioner does not appreciate it when his favorite human is in distress, especially when the distress is caused by other guilty, shameful humans.

Leaving you be to your objectives, The Executioner lurks around hooking and searching for something he doesn't quite understand. It's difficult to navigate who has your glasses exactly, and he really does search. He tears apart clothes, he breaks fingers and he even shakes the survivors, but to no avail.

Eventually he hooks the third survivor Claudette and searches for you, discovering you hiding amongst some pillars. When you notice him approaching, you gasp and run straight first into a wall.

With all hope lost, you crouch down and begin to hopelessly cry, humiliation, sadness and frustration steaming from your body.

The Executioner walked closer, stopping before you and bending forward as much as he was capable of. He then dropped an object into your lap.

You jostled in shock, your eyes going wide when you felt what exactly the object was. Glasses. But... Not your glasses. "These... These are Claudettes?" You ask, slipping on the tiny glasses. They barely helped you to see, honestly.

But they would be good enough, and you were grateful for his generosity, "Thank you."

Proud and satisfied, the Executioner nodded, took a few steps away and gazed back at you. Come on. The hatch isn't going to find itself.

Wesker

You're his favorite survivor, so he searches for you first only to find you getting laughed at by Quintin. He had your glasses. You were struggling to chase him, putting up quite a fight until he purposely tripped you and sent you falling face first to the ground.

Oh. Oh, that boy was so done for. Wesker's eyes burned orange, and he flew up to the treacherous nobody, jamming him with uroboros. Quintin screamed and dropped your glasses. Wesker picked them up and finished chasing the coward, hooking him shortly.

By the time he returned to you, he was amused to see you standing and searching around, obviously focused and self-aware. "Tis a pity you can be taken advantage of so easily, (y/n)," Wesker said, twirling your glasses around, "I almost feel sorry for you."

He eagerly awaited a snappy, passionate reaction from you, but was ultimately met with deafening silence. You weren't even looking at him, your head bowed, hands gripping a barrel and your face twisting with hatred and shame.

It was as if you expected the worst out of everyone including him.

"What will I get if I return them to you?" Wesker asked, stepping closer.

You mumbled back, "Just kill me, Wesker. I'm done."

Out of all his time here, Wesker had never, ever seen you give up. It made him... Concerned. "How long has this been going on?" He stopped beside you and handed you your glasses back.

You were taken aback by his kindness and consideration, and you went to put your glasses back on, "A while."

"Well then," Wesker smirked, aching to touch your face, "I suppose we'll need to put a stop to this. Won't we?"

Max

He doesn't really understand what's going on at first. All he knows is that you're really, really struggling. The only reason he can think why is because you didn't have your glasses. Why though? Where were they?

Hesitant, shy and nervous, Max tries his hardest to avoid hooking you. There is one time, however, that he hears you calling out for Feng to give you your glasses back. Ah ha. So Feng took them. That monster. How could she do this?

Max then makes it his number-one priority to catch Feng and return your glasses. It doesn't take him long, but when he throws her over his shoulder, he hears a distinct crack, and panics. Oh... No...

Dropping Feng unceremoniously, Max searches her hoodie and finds your shattered glasses. Noooooooo! No, he broke your glasses. Ah, what was he supposed to do? You were gonna be so mad at him and upset, and you wouldn't be able to see, and he felt so bad. Just- ahhh!

He let you down. Max growled in distress, his chest aching. He really, really let you down. Oh, he was so sorry.

But he wasn't going to hide from you despite every nerve in his body wanting him too. Instead, he killed the rest of the survivors, deserted his chainsaw and hammer, and timidly approached you.

Whenever you noticed him, you covered your face and awaited pain, but felt none. Sensing that he was close, you gaped and whimpered, "Max?"

Wow, your eyes were really pretty. Max blushed, his chest filling with butterflies. He walked forward and gently tapped on your forearm.

"What?" You whispered softly, "I-I can't see, I-I'm sorry."

Even though it hurt him to speak, Max managed to say "hatch". You looked at him with utter gratitude, grabbing onto his offered arm and saying shyly, "Thank you, Max. I-I really appreciate it."

Max smiled and growled happily. Good grief, the 'butterflies'.

Hello! It has come to my attention that you are currently looking for inspiration, so I thought I'd lend you a hand! First of all, if this does not peak your interest, please don't feel pressured to take my suggestion! Alright, so, emotional support/fluff, hm... What about killers being tenderly taken care of after a survivor managed to hurt them? I'm not sure if this is the kind of concept you are looking for, so please excuse me if it isn't! Have a lovely day! 💗

A reader helping killers' who were hurt- emotionally and/or physically.

For the very sweet, lovely @lovesick-on-the-loose

Thank you so much, lovesick, for being so kind and patient. You're a very wonderful person and I've enjoyed the conversations we've had together. I apologize that the drabble is late, but I really hope that you like it 💐❤️ Much love to you, my dear!

Also.... This is my first time writing Kazan, so I probably did an iffy job. Nonetheless I'm glad I got the chance to portray his character more.

Warnings: Non-graphic violence. Character injury. Blood and injury. Fat shaming.

...

Max (injury)

Max was in a rough chase with Ada who kept hitting him with pallet after pallet until one point it finally managed to break the skin on his head. And it was painful. So painful that he dropped his hammer and chainsaw and began limping around blindly while clutching his head.

He growled and groaned in pain. His heart was racing and it felt like his skull was broken. Blood oozed down his face and into his eyes. What did he do? How was he supposed to fight like this? Aw, he just wanted the pain to stop.

"Max."

Max jolted and spun around anxiously. Who was that? Someone else who wanted to hurt him?

"Max, it's me, (y/n), a-are you okay?" It was you.

Max relaxed a bit and stilled his movements. Personally, you were his favorite person here. You were just so pretty and kind and caring. And he kind of... 'liked'... you........

"Oh, that looks bad. Here, I have a medical kit. Would it... Is it okay if I help you real quick?" You asked, stopping nearby.

Him getting help from you? Was this a dream come true? Max hesitated, but eventually he nodded and got down to his knees. He heard you approaching, his eyes squinting with the intense desire to properly see you.

"Here," You say, your gentle hands cupping his chin and tilting his head up, "Hold still, ok?"

Max uttered small, patient growls while enjoying the feeling of you softly cleaning away the blood. You were so gentle and kind. Oh, how he wished he could speak.

"I'm gonna bandage this, but it might sting a bit, ok?" You say, patting his shoulder.

Nodding, Max tensed and groaned whenever you poured cool liquid over his head, but once it settled a bit, he was surprised to notice the painful wound go numb. "I'm sorry this happened. I know Ada can be a pain to deal with," He heard you speak while wrapping up his head.

"But you did a good job," You hum, and it caused his chest to flutter. "And you're so strong. I love how you never give up."

Stop it. You're making his heart go crazy. Max's crooked mouth curved in a smile, and he growled bashfully at your praise. It might sound silly, but he really wanted to hug you right now.

Once you were done bandaging his head, you sat back and smiled, "There. Is that better?"

Brushing a hand over his tingly, bandaged head, Max nodded and looked at you, his cheeks turning red at your beautiful, kind, amazing face. Gosh, you were so incredible. He was grateful to even walk on the same ground as you.

Wincing, Max clenched his eyes shut and forced out, "Thhh... Thank... You."

"You're welcome, Max," You grin, leaning in to place your hand over one of his, "This trial is pretty much over, but I'll stay behind so you don't get punished. Does that sound good?"

What? You would do that for him? And the way you were holding his hand- it just- ahhh! What was happening right now?

"Wh-what's wrong?" You laugh softly, obviously catching onto his adorable panic.

Max tilted his head away. What's wrong is that he really liked you, and you were really nice, and you just helped him, and you were holding his hand, and it felt like his face was about to burn off. He growled a bit, closing his eyes when he slowly turned his hand over beneath yours, your fingers lightly intersecting.

"Max?" You squeeze his fingers back.

Max turned and looked at you, and his heart rocketed into his throat at what you said next.

Herman (emotional)

He was sitting at the isolated killer campfire by himself, his knees drawn and body slumped forward as he stared with blank eyes at the infinite fire. Around a week ago he had been rejected by someone who he was really attracted to, and that pain was still heavy inside him, endlessly weighing him down.

And, to add more salt to the wound, people both killer and survivor alike had been making fun of him and all for different reasons. He felt like a fraud, an outcast, a failure and a hated imbecile. And lonely. So very, very lonely. Unliked. Unwanted.

There was the distinct sound of tasseled tree branches in the distance, but Herman didn't care to register it. Was probably just some other jerk come to rub his own humiliation in his face again.

"Herman?" He heard a voice. 'Your' voice. "E-excuse me, I don't mean to bother you, I just... I just came to see if you were okay?"

Herman turned his head and spotted your shy figure standing just on the other side of the fire. While he didn't know you personally, he knew that the brief moments you did share together in the past had been decent. But that didn't answer why you were here. He nodded.

You approached slowly, your steps light and hesitant, "Aren't you lonely out here all by yourself?"

Yes. Herman shook his head and sighed, idly watching you from the corner of his eye.

"Is it okay... Can I sit with you?"

He nodded. You sat down about five feet away from him, mindlessly grabbing a nearby stick and probing it around at the ground, "It sucks- being rejected. Makes you... Makes you wonder what you're doing wrong."

Herman's eyes widened and he looked over at you. You were looking at the ground, casually tapping at it with the stick. You had been rejected too?

"And it's crazy because-pfft! Who would wanna reject you? You're smart, kind... Handsome..." You bashfully admit, turning your head away.

Interest fully caught, Herman straightened his posture and turned towards you a bit, "(y/n)?"

"I'm just saying-" You say somewhat passionately, albeit embarrassed, "They're stupid for rejecting you..."

Herman's gaze drifted off a bit, "Or perhaps I merely hone no attraction."

"Uh," You scoffed, glaring at him, "Yes you do. Why would you say that? You're very attractive, and kind, and you have the most beautiful smile, and you're such a gentleman- I-I seriously don't know why anyone would want to turn you down. You deserve so much more than that."

"Hm," Herman smiled a bit and scooted closer to you, his tone pleasant and smooth as he mumbled, "Yes... Yes, I suppose I do deserve better, don't I?"

When you turned your head back and saw how close he had gotten, you blushed and stammered, "O-oh, I-I... I?"

"Tell me, (y/n)... Is it true? Do you really think that highly of me?" Herman asked, staring hopefully into your eyes.

You stare back, a bit flustered, but honest, "Yes."

"Well then," Herman stretched his hand out towards you, murmuring, "I guess I just need to set higher standards then, hm?"

Kazan (injury)

Kazan is not used to the foreign, futuristic buildings that he is forced to do trials in. And not frequently does he have the proper attire to venture through these realms- like right now he was trying to navigate his way through some freezing, concrete building filled with flashing lights, walls, creepy bathrooms and more walls.

There was also a lot of clutter in the institute, and along that clutter there lie stray broken glass. Glass that he stepped and 'slipped' on thus creating multiple, long cuts in the bottom of his bare feet.

Kazan roared in anger and pain, immediately dropping his katana and falling down onto his bottom. He growled, pawing at his rapidly bleeding foot. There was a piece of sharp glass lodged inside it. He touched it and roared yet again in excruciation. Curse this hell.

If the Entity was a belly, he would slice it.

Kazan attempted many times to remove the glass, and when that failed he tried resuming the trial, and then when that failed he sat back down and huffed and groaned loudly in a mixture of pain, fury, and annoyance.

"Hello?"

Kazan huffed and turned his head straight in your direction, startling whoever it was that dared tread close to him. His eyes dilated, though, whenever he saw that it was 'you'. (y/n). You were standing nearby with your hands lifted in the air- a red medical kit held in the right one.

"I-I saw that you were hurt," You say softly, gesturing to his foot, "I can help."

What? He didn't understand you. The language you spoke was foreign to him, didn't you know? Kazan huffed gruffly, clenching his hand around his katana. The only reason he didn't cut you where you stood now was because he liked you. You were the only survivor who he respected in this gruesome purgatory.

Instead of running away like he expected you to, Kazan watched suspiciously as you pointed from your med-kit down to your own foot, back to the med-kit and then to him. Hm? He knew that those red, square things were filled with equipment survivors used to heal themselves with. Were you implying that... You could heal him too?

"I can help you."

Well, there wasn't anything about your tone that suggested malice, and your expression seemed empathetic enough. Perhaps he could stand to accept your aid. Kazan huffed and spoke in his own language, relaxing his body and lifting out his foot.

He thoroughly observed you as you slowly approached him and kneeled down in front of his injured limb. So far you seemed trustworthy. You shuffled through that red container and pulled out a pair of pliers.

Kazan wasn't completely ignorant. He knew what was coming. This wasn't the first time something sharp needed to be pulled out of his body. So he sat up a bit and braced himself as much as he could, stifling a great roar whenever you swiftly pulled the glass out.

Your care after that was immediate. As you quickly dowsed his foot with numbing liquid and then wrapped it with gauze, Kazan listened to your soft yet foreign mumblings. Somehow it was reassuring to him, and you were so precise and gentle.

Kazan decided that he really did like you.

Once you were done, Kazan sat up straight and began to thank you in his own language. He even did a little bow to further express his gratitude.

When you bowed back, he blushed a bit and gazed down at his bandaged foot. You not only helped him but you showed him great kindness and respect. He said that he wanted to get to know you better.

You squinted your eyes at him, looking confused, "What?"

Kazan did the only thing he knew of that could work. He grabbed his katana, ripped off one of the decorative sakura on the handle, and lifted it out towards you. Take this as a clarification of his gratitude and maybe even, one of these days, his love.

Jeffrey (emotional)

He was sitting outside of his caravan on a chair all by himself, simply enjoying the peace after-trials brought. It had been a rough day- one that was filled with hate, degradation, embarrassment and loneliness. Jeffrey knew that he wasn't the best looker out there. He had let himself go a long time ago and he was far from being healthy.

But man, did people really hate him.

A lot of the survivors were friends with the killers, but no one was friends with him. Jeffrey was positive that the reason behind that was due to his appearance- hell, the survivors and even some of the other killers reminded him of how disgusting he was every day.

That's why, when Jeffrey saw you timidly approaching him from the opposite side of the dead circus, he rose an eyebrow of curiosity and defense. Judging by your posture, you didn't look like you were here with ill intentions. In fact you seemed kind of nervous and... shy.

Jeffrey eyed you heavily up until you came to a stop just a few meters away. "Hi?" You bashfully said, your adorable fingers lifting in a small wave.

"An' what the hell do you want?" He asked, prepared for the worst.

"I um... I just wanted to come by and say that... I saw how the other survivors were treating you last trial, and I... I wanted to come see you and say that... That I..." You cleared your throat, pressed your hand against your mouth and looked away, your cheeks a vivid red, "I don't think you're ugly at all. And... I hate the way they treat you. It's not right."

Jeffrey could only sit still in silence for a moment, utterly shocked. Well, of all the things you could have said, he definitely didn't expect to hear that. "Heh," He smirked, spreading his legs a bit and leaning forward with interest, "An' what made ya come all the way down here just to tell me that, sweetheart?"

"I..." You stammered, your blush more than obvious, "I-I felt bad for how they were treating you, and I... I was worried that you- you know... Might be feeling bad too..."

"Well, ain't you sweet?" Jeffrey grinned and beckoned you closer with a finger, "Commere."

You complied hesitantly, coming to a stop just a few feet away from him. Jeffrey eyed you up and down, pleased with what he saw, "Tell me: if ya don't think I'm ugly, then what am I to ya?"

Your fingers nervously rubbed together in front of your belly. Your cheeks were dark and your gaze averted. "I- you... I think that you're... Handsome." And then you covered your face with your hands.

And oh did Jeffrey love that. Someone thought he was handsome- and not just any someone. 'You'. One of the greatest survivors in this junky place. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, can ya repeat that?" He teased, lifting a hand behind his ear.

You made a face that caused him to laugh in amusement. "Aw, come on, ya gotta know I ain't got good ears," He grinned.

You shuffled and gazed around, unable to look at him as you sputtered, "I said... I think you're handsome."

"What was that? Sorry, one more time."

"Mm..." You blushed furiously, covering your face, "Seriously?"

Jeffrey leaned back and chuckled, "Ain't you just the dammed most adorable thing I ever did see... Much better than all them other hustlers. Prettier too."

"Is... Is it okay if I sit with you for a while? Please?" You ask.

Jeffrey hummed and closed his legs together, patting his thighs as he said, "Yeah, yeah, here. Sit right here. Take a load off from all them darn nice things yuv been sayin' to me."

Whether you sat on his lap or not was entirely up to you. Either way, Jeffrey loved having you around. And for the first time in a long time... He felt like he was finally accepted.