MXLEVOLENCE : AN INDEPENDENT, CANON - DIVERGENT portrayal of GHOSTFACE from DEAD BY DAYLIGHT. comprised of and reliant on original headcanons. EXTREMELY VERSE FLEXIBLE! adored by VICIOUS [ 31 ]. CONTAINS violence, blood, gore, body horror, and other sensitive subjects. all followers must be 21+!
WEAVING TALES WITH cursedblessed, witchcraftandburialdirt, taliaromanova, bells-of-black-sunday, vulpesse, malumxsubest.
PLOTTING | PROMPTS | HEADCANONS | PLAYLIST
THEMES OF identity crises [ WHO AM I WHAT AM I? ]; the agony of loneliness; manipulation from both sides : a manipulator at the mercy of manipulation; self-exploration and the concept of a crafted identity; DEATH as a figure worthy of worship and reverence; selfishness as an inherent trait and a motivator; & killers who are BORN with violent tendencies rather than molded to be violent: the distinct lack of traumatic childhoods or events — a creature pried from the womb with blade in hand.
BLOGROLL
THE RAVEN KING
{ rules in carrd or below }
ONE. Hello and welcome! This is an independent, semi-selective blog for a canon divergent Ghostface ( Danny Johnson ) of Dead By Daylight, albeit one who relies heavily on original headcanons / backstory. This blog is VERSE FLEXIBLE and not confined solely to the game. Tracking mxlevolence. OCS AND DOUBLES WELCOMED! Just as a quick aside, IMs are the best way to reach me. I only hand out discord to friends.
TWO. THIS DEPICTION OF GHOSTFACE IS CANON DIVERGENT. I am not interested in writing him as wholly canon. This portrayal of Danny Johnson is not only a self proclaimed Harbinger of Death, but he has also become so attached to the role and costume of the Ghostface that he truly believes he is Ghostface, not a man in a mask. I am VERY VERSE FLEXIBLE. You do not need to have a DBD verse for interactions!
THREE. THIS BLOG WILL CONTAIN MATURE CONTENT. You must be 21+ to interact. Beware of mature language, blood, gore, body horror, depictions of crime scenes, death, and more. I can and will write out detailed blood / gore!! Some things will be tagged; the nature of this blog does mean that some things will not be. ALL IMAGES ARE TAGGED. Tag format is [trigger] tw . I am willing to tag certain things for your comfort, but please be aware that if it’s commonplace on this blog then I strongly advise you do not follow. Common untagged themes include blood, general gore, murder, death, and knives. Content that will almost always be tagged: suicide / suicide mentions, self harm / self harm mentions, and extreme body horror / gore. You will NEVER see sexually explicit themes, rape, incest, racism, xenophobia, child murder, animal abuse, trans/ace/homophobia here ( note that Danny does have a lot of internalized homophobia toward himself, but this is handled rarely and carefully! )
FOUR. I have my own way of formatting but you do not need to match. I don’t care if you use gifs, an animated FC, or prefer standard text to small. I'll often adjust my style to yours in terms of icon usage. So, if you don't use icons I won't either. QUALITY OVER QUANTITY. You are welcome to turn asks into threads! This blog welcomes doubles (i.e. other Danny's) and OCs, including female muses. If you are not inclusive or accepting of OCs or female muses on your blog I will not be following back. Don’t metagame or godmode. Your character (unless they are a divine being / entity) will not know Ghostface’s true name ( Danny ).
FIVE. SHIPPING IS UNLIKELY. While it’s NOT impossible, given the nature of Ghostface ( and my own preferences ) it will take a lot of interactions and chemistry. Additionally, any ships will undoubtedly be toxic by nature. Please be mindful and respectful of his asexuality. I don’t write smut, just not my thing. If you’re here to sexualize Ghostface I ain’t about it. Characters are, of course, permitted to flirt with him, make a pass, etc! His sexuality ( and romantic preferences ) are not common knowledge, he just may not reciprocate!
SIX. Don’t be a prick. Don’t be racist, trans-, homo-, acephobic, etc. I don’t condone callout culture except in extreme cases. I utilize the block feature rarely but am not above its use if I don't vibe with someone or they display behavior I don't agree with. If you choose to unfollow, please softblock. I softblock when unfollowing but usually bc you've been inactive and / or we haven't written. If this occurs, you're welcome to follow again.
HOWDY!
I'm Vicious ( they / them ). I'm thirty-one and have been RPing for twenty years ( fifteen on tumblr ). I'm situated in MST / MDT ( Colorado, USA ) timezone. Some people might know me from my other blog ( @kingoftheravens ). I've been writing Ghostface for around two years, now, and he is my special blorbo I love very much.
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Semester almost over. Still haven't heard if I was accepted into Master's program or not, so no idea if I'll be attending classes in the Fall.
I'm officially published! One of my history papers was published in my university's Historical Studies Journal!
Biggest reason I haven't been around, tho: I met a guy back in November. We clicked. Been gradually growing closer. Now dating. It's long distance which is hard. I'm super down bad; haven't been this into a person in over a decade (if at all). He's been taking up all my time. He's supposed to come out and see me at the end of this month, so until then I'm going to be insane. Yearning is not for the weak.
And yeah. That's all. It's not even a lack of muse, it's just a lack of time ( and an unwillingness to make time, tbh. ) Once the semester is over, more of my time will free up, so we'll see if I can resume activity here! I miss my evil boy, and I miss all of you! Thank you, as always, for your patience with me!!!
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knowing your writing partner can potentially make writing together a lot easier!
♡ basics.
★ name: vicious.
★ sexuality: on the ace spectrum somewhere.
★ taken or single: single.
♡ three facts.
I train dogs for a living. I'm tall. I'm a very big LotR nerd to the point of absurdity.
♡ experience.
★ how long ( months / years? ): Since I was ten; I'm thirty-one. Started on Chatzy and Proboards before pivoting to Twitter and Tumblr when I was a teenager. Ghostface I've been writing since late 2022!
♡ muse preferences.
★ female or male: I tend to lean toward males because female muses are not treated well in the rpc. Which is a shame because my female muses mean SO much to me.
★ fluff, angst, or smut: The first two! I love angst, especially. Smut is not for me.
★ plots or memes: Some basic plotting is great, then memes. I'm not opposed to more in-depth plotting, but that tends to flow better if I've gotten a feel for the dynamic between our muses, first.
★ long or short replies: I tend toward long. Nothing wrong with short! But I can word vomit a lot if I'm not careful.
★ best time to write: The morning! I'm most productive after waking up!
★ are you like your muse?: I hope not.
tagged: @wrothling (!!! ty <3)
tagging: I'm quite late to this so pls steal from me if you have not participated!
She points at him to spare a moment, and then extracts her fangs one at a time. Her lips twist to swallow the blood, then she holds out the clean canines for him to do as he pleased. "They'll take time to grow back, so do cherish them."
BIRTHDAY MONTH SHENANIGANS
Cherish. One might assume a man of his nature would be incapable of such a thing, but the Grave Walker is more than capable of cherishing. Even now, he cradles the pair of fangs in both hands as if they were fragile, delicate things. What a gift this is! And one he will covet for eternity.
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Tarhos drops a few spare teeth from random survivor's into Ghostface's hand, "Heard you wanted teeth."
BIRTHDAY MONTH SHENANIGANS
Teeth! Yes. He covets them in hand like a king with his prized jewels. After inspecting each individual tooth in turn—an index finger prodding and flipping each—he tucks them into a pocket and angles his head up at his friend. ( Could his grin be seen, it would be quite radiant. )
another question for you &ghostface :3 with the release of RE9 (yay!) what is ghostface's opinions of the RE survivors in DBD? how does he feel about the RE killers? and as a bonus 3rd question, if you feel up to it - how do you think ghostface would fair within the RE world?
Great questions, Koy! Thank you for this!
This goes two ways. One, Ghostface detests every RE survivor on the basis that they're well-trained tactical characters who have outsmarted him before. Two, they give great chases and therefore are satisfying kills once caught. The survivors who give up too easily are a bore—hardly worth the effort. But the ones who fight? They're interesting. Especially when they persist in fighting, no matter the cost, no matter how much the Entity tries to beat them back into submission. ( There's something alluring about that. ) Individually, Ghostface has no particular preference or revulsion for one RE survivor or the other. As far as his brain is concerned, they are all one solid unit from the same place.
In terms of killers, he hates Nemesis and tolerates Wesker. He and Albert butt heads a lot, but there is some semblance of toleration there, too. Ghostface respects H.U.N.K.; there's something about a fellow mask-wearer that is just inherently endearing. RPD is actually the Reaper's favorite location, both in trials and out, and is a frequent haunt of his during his free time. ( He cherishes that library. )
I actually have a ( very broad, generalized ) RE verse! At the crux of it, one must remember that Ghostface is a parasite. A cockroach that stubbornly refuses to die. And while he is fascinating by death in its myriad of disguises, there is also a part of him that deeply desires to know, to uncover. There's a reason he chose journalism as his preferred field versus any other career path. Thus, in the RE world, he's hungry for knowledge and scandal. For answers to burning questions. I have only briefly considered the concept of him being infected. There's an allure there, certainly. A reporter deposed, made twisted and cruel(er). Now a part of the very system he sought to expose. How monstrous would he become in form? Who's to say.
@mxlevolence did NOT request the monster but got him anyway
❝ You are not who I was expecting.❞ The voice slithers out of the dark: warped, layered, flat out wrong. It does not belong to this place. It is not the maker's, nor the familiar drone of an everstuck soul looping itself into madness. It is something else entirely. A stranger. And here, that alone should be an omen.
Something moves. It steps forward at last, greeting the killer like a reflection dragged from a broken mirror. The same ghostly mask. The same dangling tendrils. For a heartbeat, it is a precise illusion of him, the perfect mimic, before the image stutters.
It glitches.
The shape buckles and twists, flesh reforming into something feral, something that knows only blood and hunger. Blink and it’s gone. Blink again and there’s a flash of silver at its throat; a star pendant, glinting faintly, stolen or maybe just an imitation from another inhabitant like a joke only it understands.
Then the distortion stills.
What remains is a man in a tailored suit, one hand resting on a cane. His face is erased cleanly, smoothed down to nothing but a dark abyss, save for eyes that burn an unnatural green, too bright for this dull, colorless realm.
❝But who would not be honored,❞ he says, the words arriving a fraction of a second before the sound, ❝to stand before the great and talented, Ghostface.❞
The eyes sharpen, and for a moment the floor seems to tilt, only slightly, just enough to suggest what should not be named. On the scale of human or monster, he stood at a level far beyond monstrosity.
❝Tell me, my new friend,❞ the beast continues softly, ❝are you lost in your thoughts…❞ A pause stretches. ❝ ...or just lost? ❞
He is located in gentle repose, sprawled on the ground with back pressed to the trunk of a twisted elm. There is no book in hand on this day. No whetstone and blade, no pen and paper to still the torrent of thoughts in his brain. There is nothing but silence, pocked by a breeze brushing through boughs. Languid and casual, yet not vulnerable—the Reaper is rarely vulnerable—but when the voice interrupts, the illusion of relaxation shatters.
The Gravewalker is on his feet quicker than the swipe of a blade. Met with the twisted facade of his own face, however briefly, elicits a jolt of revulsion. A strange mix between fear and disgust, anger and incredulity. A deluge of emotions that prickle along his flesh like goosebumps, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.
The stranger's form flickers, a glitch in the system, and settles on the facade of a well-dressed gentleman. Every inch of Ghostface bristles, uncertain, uneasy. And what a feat that is. He eyes the stranger with wariness, even as the mask remains carefully posed in its perma-agony. There is a sense of wrongness here, pungent as the scent of lilies, and Ghostface is viscerally aware of it.
( Oh, for the dreaded to feel dread. )
"I know this place too well to lose my way." But it's not meant in the literal sense, is it? He shifts, hand idly reaching for a pocket in his shroud where the Buck 120 resides. Yet he has the foreboding sense that a weapon is useless on this entity. Indeed, that everything is useless. "Can I help you, friend?"
Hey friends. My internet has been out since Wednesday and I won't have it back until Wednesday ( don't ask. Company's fault. I'm livid about the whole situation. ) Which is why I have been Extra Quiet lately and unresponsive. Not ignoring y'all, just painfully existing with this nonsense.
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"Come to watch?" Cirith hummed, hands coated in blood as they eyed Ghostface from beneath their veil.
The old mortuary was in dire need of repair, but as clean as they could get it. Neat and organized, every scalpel and tool had its own place on a tray neatly set within arms reach. They'd even washed their gloves off. The killer looked back down at their work, Dwight cut open with organs plain for the world to see. Writhing, quiet whimpers of pain silenced with a harsh gag. The entire torso was cut open not unlike someone performing an autopsy and neatly held open with a few stitches to the skin below it.
The mortician jammed their claw into the survivor's thigh tutting as they shook their head.
"Sorry he's being a rude patient. Almost thought about cutting his tongue out and being done with it, but he'd drown far before I got to see the results of my work." — woe Ghosty is invited to the live dissection
It was. . .beautiful. No, it was divine. No, empyrean. No. ( It had no word to describe it. At least, no English word. This was a devout experience. The sort that required a precise name in another language that encapsulated every nerve inside of him that alighted with a pious fire. Like looking upon an aspect of God and knowing it was Him. )
Like a hound to the scent in the kitchen, Ghostface was beside the table, leering at the tormented soul strapped to it. Viscera shined, exposed to the chill air—and the origin, a writhing, agonized Dwight. It was enough to send a chill down the Grave Walker's spine. An ecstasy that bordered on religious.
"No, no, their agony is part of the fun," he cooed, voice grating through his modulator. Ghostface lifted his gaze from the sublime technical detail—the stitching, the careful dissecting—to its artificer. The empty void of his eyes revealed nothing, but his joy was etched into every muscle along his shoulders. Like a child vibrating with excitement on Christmas morning.
"You have a fine hand. These cuts are precise. I commend your talents."
