˚꩜｡

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the sentence starters are being sent for .

"Your breath against my neck is the only thing keeping me from losing control right now."

"Don’t look around. Don’t change your expression. Just listen very carefully to what I’m about to tell you."

"I can make you disappear, and the best part? Everyone who loves you will help me look for you."

"You’re acting like you have cards left to play. Look at your hand. Look at me. We both know you're done."

"Take a deep breath. Let it out. Enjoy it, because it’s the last easy thing you’re going to do today."

"I'm not going to ruin your life. I'm just going to stand back and watch you do it yourself."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't end this conversation right now.

"Choose your next words like your life depends on them, because they do."

"You think you're the monster in this room?"

"We are well past the point of apologies.

"Now, we're just negotiating the collateral damage."

"I am being incredibly patient with you right now, but you are running out of seconds."

"Go ahead. Pull the trigger. Let's see who haunts who more."

"I didn't lock the door to keep them out. I locked it to keep you in."

"I've been watching you sleep for a week.

"You talk in your sleep, did you know that?

"You keep apologizing to me."

"You can scream if you want to. No one is going to come, but I’d quite like to hear what you sound like when you're desperate."

"Hold still. It hurts a lot less if you don't fight it, and frankly, I'd like to get this over with."

"I’m going to ask you a question. If you lie, I take a finger. If you stay silent, I take two. Let’s begin."

"You’re crying. Why? This is exactly what you chose when you decided to double-cross me."

"Don't bother looking for the keys. I melted them down an hour ago."

"I’m not angry. I’m just calculating exactly how much of you I can take apart before you stop breathing."

"If you make a single sound, I will drive this blade straight through your throat. Do you understand me?"

"Please. Please don't look at me like that. Just do it quickly. Just don't make me beg."

"They're downstairs. They found us. If we don't jump right now, we are going to die in this room."

"Look at my hands. I can't get the blood off. It won't come off. Why won't it come off?"

"Run. Don't look back, don't wait, just run because whatever is coming next will be me."

"Go ahead, call the police. Who do you think answers the phone when you dial those numbers?"

"Look in the mirror. Do you even recognize what's left of you?"

“ You don’t laugh at legends. ” ꒷꒦ ✧ THE GHOST FACE (DANNY JOHNSON) FROM DEAD BY DAYLIGHT side-blog / ask blog ꒷꒦ RULES AND INFO ꒦ ꒷

@thatcatghostinred

An unnatural-sounding chuckle noise sounded as he gleamed at The Ghostface.

It wasn't a laugh of tease, moreso a joyous expression of amusement for the other. Philip knelt down, finding the perfect patch of soil to use as his canvas.

His finger dug into the Earth, dragging along as he constructed each loop and curve of his name.

'Philip Ojomo' he had wrote.

Mimicking Dani's earlier explanation, he underlined the singular 'l' presented in his own name. Once finished, he stood straight up again, cleaning the dirt off his finger before guesturing towards the letters in the soil.

He watched as the man knelt in the dirt eyes full of curiosity it did kill The cat after all . He secretly hoped it would be a fun drawing, almost entirely forgetting he had asked him his name.

So when the name appeared in the dirt Dani had remembered about the question he had asked. He looked at the name and watched the "I" got underlined. It amused Dani that he did so.

In many killer's eyes, at least those that belonged to the ones who closely knew Philip anyway, he was truly a gentle giant of a beast. He still had an unnerving presence from his natural form, but the fog seemed to fade the moment anyone interacted.

Perhaps the more tranquil environment now provided an additional unusual calm. A smile pursed his lips, eyes glowing with humored peace. Philip was secretly pleased the other enjoyed his humor he rarely got to express.

The silence was notated by Philip, only for the amusement to continue with Dani's questioning. Memory was something Philip had been fortunate to be blessed with regarding mathematics and the finer details.

But even with that in his mind, he'd be fibbing if he dared say he didn't have tricks of his own to remember reoccurring thoughts. Philip's however were dealt in pictures painted in his mind rather than words and text. Still he humored the other, gesturing with his hands for the other to go on.

You think you're so much better than me, don't you?

Stop looking at me like that.

We're on the same side now, whether you like it or not.

I'd rather die than work with you.

You're the last person I wanted to see today.

Don't you dare act like you care about me now.

I know what you did. I know everything.

You've always been my enemy, but you've never been my equal.

Why does it feel like you're the only one who actually sees me?

I don't trust you. I'll never trust you.

You're insufferable, you know that?

We can't keep doing this—pretending we don't feel it.

I've spent half my life trying to destroy you.

God, I want to hate you so badly right now.

You make me want to scream.

I didn't save you because I like you. I saved you because I had to.

We're not friends. We'll never be friends.

You don't get to be vulnerable with me now, not after everything.

I've imagined killing you a thousand different ways.

Why do you always have to be right?

I hate how much space you take up in my head.

You're my rival, not my—whatever the hell this is.

Don't touch me. Don't you fucking dare.

I know you better than anyone, and that's the worst part.

You've ruined me for anyone else, and I hate you for it.

I'd burn the world down before I let you win.

You look at me like I'm the villain, but you're no hero either.

I can't do this. I can't want you and hate you at the same time.

You're the only person who's ever challenged me.

Stop pretending you don't feel this too.

I've never wanted to throttle someone and hold them this badly before.

We're going to regret this in the morning.

You think you know me? You don't know anything.

I didn't mean to fall for you. This is a mistake.

You make me feel like I'm losing a battle I didn't even know I was fighting.

I swore I'd never let you get close to me.

Why does fighting with you feel better than being happy with anyone else?

You're dangerous. To me. To everything I've built.

I hate that you're the only one who makes me feel alive.

This thing between us—it's toxic. We're toxic.

You've always been the thorn in my side. Now you're under my skin.

You betrayed me once. How do I know you won't do it again?

I've spent years building walls to keep you out.

We're playing with fire here, and we both know it.

You're my competition, my nemesis, my—fuck, I don't even know anymore.

🐕 : How hard is it earn your muses loyalty?

🐈: Can your muse sleep anywhere or do they need specific conditions?

🐎: How fast can your muse run?

🦊 : Is your muse more cunning or straightforward?

🐇 : How easily does your muse get scared?

🐿️ : Does your muse collect anything?

🦝 : How chaotic is your muse?

🐺 : Is your muse more comfortable alone or as part of a group?

🐻 : How does your muse react when woken up unexpectedly?

🐢 : Is your muse patient, or do they rush things?

🐙 : How well does your muse multitask?

🦢 : Does your muse care much about appearances or presentation?

🦜 : How talkative is your muse?

🦚 : Does your muse enjoy attention?

🐉 : Is your muse possessive?

🐘 : How good is your muse's memory?

🐝 : Is your muse a hard worker or a slacker?

🐔 : Would your muse ever commit cannibalism?

🦉 : Is your muse more active at night or during the day?

🦈 : What would it take to make your muse bite someone?

🫂 : What is your muses relationship with their parents like?

👋: Does your muses have any friends they see as siblings?

🧼: How organized is your muse's living space?

🌊: Does your muse take hot or cold showers?

🗡️: Would your muse help a loved one hide a body?

🧦: Does your muse sleep with or without socks?

💰: How reckless is your muse when it comes to spending money? 

🥂: How does your muse act when drunk?

🕵️: How good is your muse at keeping secrets?

🕷️: Can your muses kill spiders themself, or do they make someone else do it?

🍳: Can your muse cook?

⛈️: How does your muse react to to thunderstorms?

🗺️: How good is your muse’s sense of direction?

🩹: Does your muse rest when they're sick or try and just push through?

⏰ : Is your muse a morning person or a night owl?

🫣 : How does your muse react to embarrassment?

📚 :Does your muse enjoy reading?

🛑 : Is there a limit to how many times your muse will forgive someone?

In the forest lay wait a huntress. Not one of animals, no she has a taste for the hunt of humans.

An eerie lullaby rings out, sounding out the last sound you'll ever hear.

Run little rabbit, run. She'll catch you if you fall. She'll catch you if you don't.

The fog is endless as the sky as soon as you'll die.

Rules:

-RP blog for Huntress from DBD

-NO NSFW, small mentions of it is fine but nothing more

-open asks and RP

-no shipping, in character violence will be used on asks if this occurs

About mun:

Mun is 18+ and works full-time. Mun is also a full time university student. Please be patient with responses

ꫂ ၴႅၴ ˎˊ˗

David swings a key around his finger with intense focus. He flicks his wrist, launching the key into the air before trying to catch it on his index finger. Instead, it lands on his knuckle and tumbles back into the grass.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, sifting it from the ground before attempting the trick again.

The key sparkled with a brilliant, almost crystalline finish in the moonlight. Initials had been carved into the shaft, and a lot of craftsmanship had gone into swirly design of the key-head.

While it had initially caught King’s eye as something valuable, right now his boredom had tainted his perception of it into little more than a fidget. He tosses it off of his finger again.

This time though, it flings itself forward and smashes into the heavily bandaged thigh he’d been attempting to nurse.

Bandages heavily patterned the survivor’s thigh, something hard to overlook combined with the pained frustration laid across David’s face. Despite the injury, Wraith assumed it’d be senseless to offer any assistance given the two beings’ roles within this realm. Instead, Wraith remained hidden in his shimmer, only observing now from the dark.

His eyes glanced at the key that was now lying on the soil below the survivor, tracing every intricate detail he could observe from the distance. The designs were nothing he recognized, but the specifics of the handiwork left him believing it’d been worth something unimaginable. At least, something valuable outside of this hell… here it was just a key, nothing more.

“Don’t matter,” he murmurs to himself, entertaining the idea of conversation to drive away the eerie and lonely feeling of the woods. “Did it, it’s done, don’t matter anymore…”

David stuffs the key into his pocket and gradually lowers his back onto the grass. He rolls his head to the side, debating if he should attempt sleep, before his eyes snag themselves on an odd outline surrounding the forest.

It reminded him of looking through wobbled glass, or rippling water. Instinctively, his heart tenses up.

At least, outside of a trial.

Philip wouldn't wish an injured soul to rot, at least not the ones of the survivors trapped in the Nightmare. The Realm always hungers for suffering, to feed on terror within the trials, but this time was on their terms now. He didn’t have to leave David deeply wounded while the two of them were there together.

His mind was screaming at him to leave it be, that this was pointless for him to intervene. Ignoring his thoughts, his body crept forward and slowly closed the distance between him and the survivor. Wraith dared not get too close however, not wanting to cause panic and further David's injury.

Despite his caution, Wraith forgot one of the most important parts of his ability; he could still affect the physical world around him.

He’d seen this before. He’d died like this before.

However, instead of wielding Azarov's skull in hand, attempting to pose with peace, he secured the weapon around his waist before quickly darting in front of the survivor.

It was awkward at first, freezing up for merely a second before he waved his hands, palms facing outward, to signal David to stop, head shaking negatively.

He needed the survivor to stop, for his own health and so the Wraith could figure out... Something to aid him with. His eyes darted around, observing nothing but rocks and forrest surrounding the two.

A light went off in his head as he opened his smaller waist pouch, digging through the trinkets he'd stashed away before-hand. After a short moment he produced a, somewhat, clean piece of cloth and meager amount of rope.

It wasn't much, but considering the state David had found himself in, it'd at least help, if the giant could convince him to at least take it.

His wide eyes scrunch into a confused, overwhelmed mess. It took him a moment to break the frozen fear that had overcome him, but when he finally did he snatched the goodies and scooted backward to give himself more space.

He waited.

Nothing.

His heart steadies a bit.

David slowly unravels off the bandages on his thigh and starts using the new ones to redress it. He pauses every now and again, waiting for a strike.

He expected a lunge, or some sort of double attack from another nearby killer. The fact there wasn’t one only added to his confusion, though the absence of immediate violence let him rebalance his emotions just enough to speak.

This encounter was almost unheard of, let alone the actions The Wraith was partaking in daringly. Surely the Entity wouldn't have any of this madness, at least not lightly.

Growing calmness of the other stubborn being distracted Philip's mind from the punishment pondering. Lanky legs slowly delivered the unusually tall killer to the ground as he sat himself down completely.

His legs crossed over one another, hands holding themselves neatly in his lap to wave any perceived threat. Or at least, what he could shave off anyway.

Philip gazed at David's hands as they worked, keeping a close eye on his handiwork with the wound. It wasn't judgmental, moreso weary from the state of the gash.

Alas, Philip stopped looking for merely a moment, hands releasing themselves as they began their Sign symphony.

LEG-HURT-YOU!

Wraith transcribed, continuing his message in the next chorus.

TRIAL-THIS