#Psycho-Pass SS
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sekainofantasy90 · 7 months ago
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狡朱 Shinya/Akane ❤️
Artist/Credits: https://twitter.com/hitochan1031211
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faefaye · 5 months ago
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lemonadecandy103 · 1 year ago
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when Akane finds out that Kougami shared a water bottle with Frede.
༼ ʘ‿ʘ༽
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saber-of-dreams · 1 year ago
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Gino and Mika
I remember watching SS Case 1 a few years ago and loving the dynamic between Mika and Gino. And then when Season 3 and First Inspector came out, I really liked the few interactions we had there.
I will admit it's been a very long time since I've re-watched Season 1 or Season 2, so I can't remember a lot of the background (though I certainly need to find time to re-watch).
And I get that there are plenty of people that don't like this ship, which is fair, but for me, they work with an excellent power dynamic.
Gino is the older, wiser man who is in a socially inferior position. He has experience and wisdom learned a lot in his fall from grace and subsequent rising. Mika is young, naive, impetuous, but she has a good heart. She has the social upper hand, but lacks the experience and maturity to handle some of the things that come up in her line of work. Even in Season 3 and First Inspector, she's grown a lot, but she's still not as wise and she could one day be.
They create an interesting equilibrium, pairing the characters together the way they did in SS 1. It made for an engaging story (for me). And it really highlighted both of their characters and the changes they're going through so well. Mika is learning to slow down and breath, to stop and consider the people around her, even the latent criminals, as human beings with wants and needs. She is learning to look before she leaps. And Gino is learning how to look at the world from a more realistic experience. In a lot of ways I think it mirror's Ko's experiences in Season 1, with the benefit that Gino already knows that Akane will treat him as a human being first and an enforcer second, and that dynamic is (slowly) rubbing off on Mika too.
I haven't watched Providence yet. Might go watch it this week if I can make myself do the hour drive there and hour drive back, but I'm not expecting a ton of new content for them. Mostly shinkane (just the teasers alone satisfied my thirst for content for them for literally years).
I am interested in seeing where this dynamic might lead in the future.
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aseriesofunfortunatejan · 2 years ago
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Yep, that's... you, alright.
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neowinestainedress · 1 year ago
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𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄?
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: “horror”, thriller, yandere-ish, smut, halloween special, scream!au 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again.  Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: dark content, talks of [m*rders, sl!tting throats, v!olent stuff in general], dr*g/anaesthetic use [to make mc fall asleep but unrelated to any sexu*l act (she’s awake and willing)], mentions of [dubcon] phone s*x + masturbation, implied stalking, use of restrainers, cl!t rubbing, rough t!t/n!pple play, protected s*x turns unprotected, kn!fe play, ‘fear’ play, clothes cutting, fake sympathy, pet names used in a mocking way, degradation, rough s*x, hair pulling, spit (1), p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, possessiveness, 1 brief talk of carving, polaroids pictures, all consensual but i’ll still put a dubcon warning just to be safe (tbh it’s more like hate sex bc the mc would rip his head off but also fuck him), reader is kinda fucked up herself. | inclusivity notes: reader has hair long enough that can be pulled (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type but reader is manhandled a few times and has b**bs and *ss big enough that can be cupped, no mention of skin color, no use of y/n 𝐖𝐂: 10.662k 𝐀/𝐍: this year i had vague ideas for halloween but not even a defined good one, i had some suggestions i liked but were far too complicated, and i had no energy to write them in time. but a ghostface/scream au was an idea i had in mind for some time, the original was a ghostface cosplay, but then i went with this one, and I’m happy with how it turned out. i had 2 members in mind (johnny/haechan) for the og plot, then someone suggested jeno and jisung (as a duo) but if i unmasked him the plot wouldn’t have made sense anymore, so he’s whoever you want him to be! the other ghostface is mentioned but doesn’t appear physically in the story, you can pick who you want for him too. i never wrote blankly for the male mc so let me know if it was good. please, if you like it, leave feedback through reblogs or asks! and also let me know who you imagined behind the mask 👀 enjoy and happy halloween
𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄.
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Your mother always told you to mind your business or else your curiosity was going to be the death of you one day.
It’s clear you never treasured her words, and your curiosity led you to be a private detective with only a few thrills in your life since now, nothing too exciting ever happened in your small town, until one day you received a phone call from the district of Woodsboro. A string of murders was terrorizing the town after years and all the evidence led to another psycho who thought it was funnier to kill people while putting on a Ghostface mask. 
Months have passed since that call and you have nothing concrete. It’s like he’s only messing up with you and, in the meantime, innocent people keep dying. But you have your theories, the ones you only keep to yourself, stored away in the privacy of your diary, hidden under the pillow of your bed. Your colleagues seem decent people, but with time, you’ve learned to trust nobody. 
And your secret theories led you right where you are now. In the open country, away from the small town, where a small barn grabbed your attention the first time you moved to Woodsboro. 
The barn seems empty but eerie vibes surround it. The strong smell of the grass stings your nose as your black boots walk on the muddy ground, the rain of this morning still lingering in the air and in the countryside. 
When you reach the perimeter, you squeeze your eyes to see inside, but the few tiny windows don’t allow you a big view. The more you walk around it to make sure it’s empty, the more the hold on your concealed carry with the gun inside tightens.  
It’s late October and the cold penetrates your brown leather jacket, but the temperature is not the thing that makes you shiver. 
You should’ve never followed your instinct and come here alone. You should’ve spoken to somebody else in the department, told them your theory and have some backup in this crazy plan of yours. But when your impulses take over, your smartness slips away, and you find yourself in the worst situations ever. 
Like right now. You stand in front of the wooden door and find the courage to push it open. You should feel thrilled, you found him. You found the psycho that has been haunting the town for months now, messing up with you with clues and mocks that pushed you farther away from the right path. Yet, you beat him, for once it looks like you have the upper hand now that you’re walking around the empty barn away from the town. But something doesn’t feel right, your guts are telling you something but you don’t listen, you can’t walk away now that you’re so close.
There’s not much to inspect, a few pieces of furniture, a disheveled mattress in the middle of the room, and a few chairs in a corner. It almost looks like an abandoned farm if only it wasn’t for the unnerving vibes that carries with it and for two walls that call your attention. On the right, there’s a map of Woodsboro, pins linked by a red thread, connecting all the places where Ghostface hit in these past months. Your hand quickly reaches the back of your pocket to pull out your phone and snap a picture, hoping there will also be places he didn’t go, and this time you can be faster at stopping him. 
What’s on the other side is worse. 
“What the fuck…” you mumble under your breath as you step closer to the wall. Polaroid pictures hanging from it, Ghostface and the victims, you guess, moments before they were brutally killed. You’re not surprised, one of the gifts he would leave on the scene of the crime being Polaroids, but they didn’t make much sense. “He’s a fucking psycho,” you scoff as you take another picture. 
“Surpriiise!!” 
Your phone falls on the floor with a loud thud and your heart jumps in your throat when his voice breaks the deafening silence in the room, but your reflections are swift enough to make you reach for your gun and turn around, shooting. 
“Boo, fail,” Ghostface laughs, hitting your wrist hard enough to make the gun fall on the floor next to your phone. “You’re really not as smart as I thought you were, don’t you know intruding on someone else’s property is illegal?” he points out, pushing your body against the wall, the sharp blade of his knife grazing the skin of your neck. 
You try to keep calm, deep slow breaths as you try to don’t look scared for your life. You might die today, but you won’t give him that satisfaction. 
“Don’t look so frightened, my dear. I’m quite happy to have you all to myself,” he chuckles, his hand lifts to caress your face and you struggle to avoid it, but the click of his tongue makes you stop. “I wouldn’t act too careless, it’s sharp.” 
You stop moving. You are smart, and you can get yourself out of this situation. “Do you want to play a game, Ghostface?” You ask, ignoring his taunts, the irony in your voice is clear, just like it’s blatant in the slow bat of your eyelashes, but your words only make him laugh. 
“Oh, that’s not how it works, detective. That’s my line. You didn’t study the script?” 
You scoff, trying to take time to free yourself. “We’re switching roles. Do you want to play a game? It’s called you turn yourself in and I put you in jail.” 
He snickers, and his head tilts to have a better look at your face. He’s had many people in this position before and never saw so little fear in their eyes. “Now you want to act like you don’t love the chase?” 
“Fuck you, I don’t love it,” you spit out, narrowing your eyes, desperately trying to get a glimpse of anything under the mask. Another failed attempt. 
He laughs darkly, so deep it hits you to the core and makes you shiver — in fear or excitement, you’ll let this decide to your better judgment. “I know you do,” he coos as his thumb covered with the black glove caresses your lips. “Enjoy the little clues I leave you around? You were interested in the pictures, I knew you loved them, that’s why you get the prettiest ones. I tell you so much, but you don’t understand me,” his voice is calm, scarily calm, and full of sarcasm filled with a sweetness that feels like a slap across your face. “I was a bit mad it took you so long to find me.”
Rage shoots up inside of you, but you instantly push it down, you can’t lose your composure. “So, what are you going to do, kill me?” Your voice drops of a tone, and your eyes turn into a teasing gaze, making him chuckle. 
“Talking about death so nonchalantly with me, mmh… are you brave or dumb? Because if you ask so nicely, I just might let the knife sink in.” 
You laugh lightheartedly, putting up the best performance of your life before your eyes flutter seducingly at him. “No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,” you coo, lips in a pout and innocence in your eyes, until you hit him with a swift, strong kick between his legs, the distraction of your performance giving you time to slip to the side, causing just a bit of your skin to cut and bleed. 
“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he kneels to the ground. You reach for your gun, but barely have time to grab it before he pushes you on the floor again. “We were having so much fun, you just have to ruin everything.” 
You’re waiting for the worst when he traps you on the floor with his body on yours, but his arms don’t lift to stab you in your chest or stomach, the last thing you see before passing out is his hand lifting in the air and the sting of a needle pushing past your skin. 
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The white light of the room feels like staring directly at the sun when your eyes blink repeatedly as you try to come back to earth and push away the hammering of your headache. You groan hoarsely, trying to adjust to the light, but the biggest discomfort comes from your shoulders, pushed behind your back and around the chair you’re now sitting on. 
“Sorry, I had to tie you up, but you’re a bit feisty today. Didn’t want you to get hurt,” Ghostface replies to your silent questions — not so silent, considering how loud you’re groaning and struggling on the chair, trying to break free. He’s standing in front of you, but a chair is right behind him so you guess he was sitting there before you woke up. 
“You can’t even take one down without a fight? Need to kill me without breaking a sweat?” You taunt, eyes dark and a deep frown on your forehead. 
But your teasing seems to leave him unfazed as he walks toward you with a glass in hand. “Drink.” 
You scoff, staring at him. You hate that you can’t see him, not even because you want to find out who’s hiding under there, but also because you feel like you can’t confront him well enough. “You think I’m so stupid to accept a drink from a psycho?”
His head rolls back followed by an annoyed sigh as he stops right in front of you. His black boots bumping against yours. “You know that’s not how I move, no fun in killing with these shortcuts. Drink. I would never want you to pass out here,” he coos while his free hand pushes your hair out of your face. You can’t see behind the mask, but you know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves the glass to your lips, but you turn to the side, he doesn’t give you a choice when he strongly grips your chin, pushing your lips open, and forces the water down your throat. “Oops, it spilled all over, you’re so messy, detective,” he snickers when water drips on your chin and shirt. As if he didn’t do it on purpose. 
“Asshole,” you mutter, eyes closing into fissures while you look at him. His head tilts, “Oh, brave. I could slit your throat right now, add you to the collection.” 
You chuckle darkly, shaking your head. “You won’t,” you say firmly. “You’ve never had someone quite as fun as me.” 
A low laughter escapes from the mask. “So, you are at least a bit smart?” His hand places on your thigh and you try to move away, but the chair screeches on the floor, and his hold only tightens. 
“Don’t play games now. Don’t fake it,” he groans, hand moving up on your blue jeans. “You enjoyed our last conversation,” he whispers, the mask close to your face, so close you can almost see his eyes behind the blackness of the two holes. “Had shivers run down your back when the phone rang in the middle of the night, haven’t you? You sat up straight in your big bed, all alone, and felt fear take over. Never answer unknown numbers. That’s what they say, that’s what you say, running around town, warning everyone about me,” he laughs deeply. “And then look at you, picking up that phone call, eager to hear my voice on the other side.” 
“You’re a psycho,” you spit out, struggling against the restrainers. But once again it is an act; he is a psycho, but you are starting to fear you aren’t much different. 
He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I am, never denied that. But don’t act better than me. You stood right in front of that window, stripping for me, touching yourself for me, moaning for me. How fucked up that is?” He snickers. “You have fucked up fantasies, my pretty detective, but I’m not one to judge. I’d gladly help.” 
You laugh quietly, trying to look confident but it comes out shaky from your throat, “If you want to help, take the mask off and show me who you are.” 
“Wow, wow, darling. Not so soon, I’m not one to burn stages in a relationship. What next? Want to meet my mom?” 
You inhale sharply, and spit on him, “God, you’re insane.” Your eyes snap open when he pulls out of his back the sharp knife, your breath is stuck in your throat and fear runs all over your body. And once again you regret how impulsive you are. You did well all these past years of training and then on the first real-life experiences at pushing this side of you in the cage, but it looks like it’s coming out like a beast that’s been trapped too long.  
“Don’t be so scared,” he huffs, the fake sympathy in his voice should make you mad but it triggers something else inside of you, and you hate to admit that he might be right, you’re enjoying this more than you should, you’re enjoying this entire chase more than you should. It’s like a game, but it’s not when real people are dying. “I would never hurt you,” his voice is raspy, slightly muffled by the ghost mask he’s wearing, and the knife sits on your sternum. “I hope you didn’t like this shirt too much, detective.” 
You don’t have time to react, the steel cuts your shirt neatly, the sound bouncing in the small room and the sharp tip brushing your skin. You shiver, gulping hard and closing your eyes, already feeling the sensation of it cutting through you, but it doesn’t happen. 
He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disappointingly. “You truly don’t trust me. I’m offended, and I don’t like when people offend me. Just like I don’t like when they hang up the phone while we’re playing. If people were respectful, I wouldn’t have to kill them, you know?” You stare at him with a furrow on your face, you’d like to take the mask off and see his eyes, not really to find out who’s hiding underneath that mask, but to see if his gaze is as insane as you imagine it to be. 
“Let me go,” you say, the skin of your wrist bruised from the pressure you’re applying against the ropes.
“Don’t struggle too much, it turns me on,” he warns, kneeling at your level. He smiles softly and thinks it’s a pity you can’t see it, you’re just so pretty, with your beautiful face filled with different emotions and your eyes looking at him with a gaze that wants to be threatening but it’s all the opposite, almost making you look like a lost puppy.  
“Why?” 
“Why? It’s funny to see the victim beg for their life, it makes you feel powerful, you could show mercy, but you don’t,” the smug smile on his hidden face can be heard in his voice and you shiver at how cold he sounds, the shrug of his shoulder is just the cherry on top to his unhinged behaviour. 
“So, you’re just going to keep me here?” 
“No, I want to play with you. Do you want to play a game, detective?” 
Your gaze falls on your thighs where his hand is placed again, the black gloves preventing it from leaving traces behind, as it slowly moves closer to your heat. 
You snicker, pretending to play it cool, but your breath twitches at the contact. “’Cause if I said no you would stop?” 
“Hey, I’m a killer, not a rapist,” he defends, shrugging. Yet, you still don’t reply, and he doesn’t like that. “So? I’m not so patient when I ask people if they want to play with me, so don’t test me.” 
You swallow hard, swiftly looking around to see if you can pull a move on him. Damnit, it’s your chance to get him and throw him in jail but instead, you’re seriously thinking about his proposal. You fool yourself that you’re only doing this because maybe he could slip, maybe he could say something in the heat of the moment that could give you a clue, or he could leave his traces on you somehow, maybe his mask could fall, but you know you’re feeling something else. Attraction. 
“I said,” he mutters, his face comes closer to yours, making you pull back, and the knife pushes flat in the hollow of your chest, “do you want to play a game, detective?” 
“Yes, yes, I do,” you mutter, starting to breathe again when he pulls the knife away. 
“Good, I love playing with you.” His fingers move to unbutton your jeans and then pull the zip down, you look at him attentively. “Lift your hips for me, love?”
You glare at him at the pet name but he only chuckles deeply. “What? If I’m rough with you, you get mad, if I’m sweet with you, you get mad. I can never win, can I?” 
You huff, deciding it’s better to not reply and just do as he says. Your pants are quickly at your ankles and suddenly you feel even more trapped than before now that you can’t even move your legs, but his touch on your naked skin takes you away from that thought. 
“Pretty panties just for me?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he stares at your burgundy panties with the lace trim. “Were you hoping to find me here so we could finish what we started on the phone?” 
“Shut up, this is not for you,” you retort, your forehead creasing with a furrow. 
“And who is it for?” He asks, cupping your pussy, watching your body shiver. “Oh, no, please don’t tell me there’s a boyfriend I’m not aware of. I’d hate to kill him.” 
You bite your lips and keep the contact with the mask, but words struggle to come out when his index finger starts rubbing on your clit, moving from the slit —where you can feel you’re starting to get wet— to your sensitive nub. “It’s not for you,” you repeat, trying to don’t show how much his touch is affecting you. 
“Well, you want me to work so hard too, I’ll have to find out on my own if someone is playing with what’s mine,” he replays nonchalantly. “I know where to find you, maybe I’ll come visit again.” 
“You talk so much for someone who wants to play so badly,” you retort, a teasing grin curling your lips. 
“Sorry, I didn’t know my princess was so eager,” he replies, saccharine voice filled with mockery, before a harsh slap lands on your pussy making you jolt and whimper. “Want my fingers?”
The glare you give him would be enough to kill him; isn’t this pathetic enough? How much more does he want you to humiliate yourself? 
He rolls his head back and then the knife is against your neck again. “Do we have to do this every time I ask you a question? Do you want my fingers, detective?” 
“Yes,” you whisper. Your body relaxes momentarily before tensing up with excitement again, but it quickly shifts to disappointment. “What are you doing?” You ask when his covered fingers press against you again. 
“Oh, you’ll get the gloves too, I’m not dumb, you know? Don’t leave fingerprints on dead bodies, won’t even leave them on yours,” his voice is smug, all the confidence of someone who didn’t make a wrong move and somehow was always ahead of you and the police department. 
You hate him. You hate he’s so much better than you at this. And you hate him even more now that he has you fighting whimpers and moans. 
“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t like this while your hips are bucking up?” He taunts, clicking his tongue in a mock. “Think moaning is more pathetic than humping my fingers like a bitch in heat?” 
Your mouth opens to retort but you can’t deny the evidence; your hips are rolling against his hand, chasing for more, your panties are darkening as your wetness leaks through the fabric and your chest is heaving in erratic motions.  
“Look at me,” he sings, hand moving up to graze your neck, thumb pressing on your carotid, making your head snap up. “You listen so swiftly when you fear for your life. It’s funny, you know, because I truly would never hurt you.” 
You chuckle, shaking your head, trying to pull away from his hold when his hand moves up to caress your jaw. The gentleness of his touch is even scarier than when he has his knife pointed against you. “Is this what turns you on? The fear in their eyes?” 
His head tilts to the side, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Partially. But not in your case, what turns me on with you it’s the chase, and the fact I always win.” 
You scoff bitterly, struggling in his hold but his hand quickly grips your chin and pulls you closer. “Didn’t you see the movies? The villain always dies.” 
“If the heroine is not busy getting fucked by him,” he mocks, squeezing your face harder and moving his fingers faster on your clit. Your head rolls back and so do your eyes while a chocked moan leaves your lips. “See, I doubt you will shoot me in the head if you keep moaning like this.” 
You groan angrily, you’re madder at you than you are at him. You want him and it’s so wrong that you do, but there’s not even a siren ringing in your head, telling you to make this stop. 
“No, shh, shh, angel, it’s fine, this will be our little secret,” he whispers to your ear, the mask rubbing against your face, and when your eyes turn to look at him, you can see small dots of blood on the white varnish. “We could play another game: one secret for you, and one secret for me. If you behave, maybe I’ll reveal myself to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself.” 
Your teeth sink into your lips harder when he delivers another harsh slap on your clit before resuming his quick movements. “Just — just tell me if I know you,” you mumble. You know he will never reveal himself, but maybe you can get something more, anything to complete the missing pieces of the puzzle. 
He chuckles darkly, staring at a spot behind you as he pretends to think. “Mhh, we’ve met.”
You frown and your heart jumps in your throat for a moment at the thought you’ve seen him. “Only met?” 
“We talked,” he adds, finally letting go of your face, making you breathe normally again. 
Your eyes widen while your brain hurts as you try to quickly connect the dots, and find out who’s hiding underneath the mask, you just have to put a face on a voice — even if distorted, but you can’t. And suddenly realization slumps on you.
“Will it — will it break my heart?” 
He snickers under his breath as he looks into your sad eyes, you’re looking at him like a dog when it’s being scolded, but in this case, you’re also silently praying he’s not someone close to you. He has no idea why that would make you feel better, if you care more about Ghostface or whoever is hiding under the mask, but it doesn’t matter, and he mocks you again, mimicking you in a high-pitched voice. “Will it hurt if I was someone close to you? A colleague? A friend? A lover?” 
Your breath gets faster. Will it? Would you turn him in or defend him? And you can’t stand you’re even questioning it, of course you’ll turn him in, that’s your job, but most importantly, your duty. But will you? You could be doing it now, and you’re not. 
“See? It’s not as funny if you know me,” he laughs at your face, your thoughts so loud he could get a headache. “It’s not as exciting, you love the thrill of this too, more than you like to admit.” 
“Fuck,” you curse when his other hand cups your covered breast, it’s a harsh tug and the leather feels weird on your skin, yet, it makes you clasp your thighs and forget what was tormenting your morals, again. 
“They’re so perfect, I can’t believe you always keep them hidden under those ugly clothes,” he pouts, giving it another hard squeeze. “Sorry.”
“For what — what the fuck?” You scream when he cuts your bra with the knife, first the middle and then the straps, the matching burgundy bra falling in pieces on the bottom of the chair. 
“It was getting in the way, and I don’t like things that get in my way. I cut them off,” in his voice lingers a hysterical laugh that makes you shiver, and in times like this, you’re glad you can’t see his face.  
You gulp and automatically close your legs. 
“Not you,” he reassures you, forcing your thighs open again with a smack, “you entertain me. And you suck at your job, so it’s clear you also don’t get in the way.” 
“I’m good at my job and I will get you and put you behind bars —” 
“Uh, uh,” he clicks his tongue, knife under your jaw before you can even finish the sentence, silencing you in an instant. “We were having so much fun, don’t ruin it, babe.”
You swallow and look down following the path he’s tracing with the knife, goosebumps bloom on your skin and you hold your breath when it gets closer to your neck, only releasing it when the blade sits in the hollow of your chest. 
“It’s so funny how you shake like a leaf, I’m a professional,” he says, sounding almost offended. And you furrow, is he talking about the knife or his fingers? “Both, love.” 
Another groan leaves your lips before he moves the crotch to the side and the cold air of the room hits your burning core. You’ve never been so ashamed your entire life, you shouldn’t be an open book to him, you shouldn’t be so malleable in his hands, it’s pathetic and humiliating. 
“You’re so fucking wet. I’m quite pissed I can’t run to the police department and let them know how much I turn you on. I can already see the disappointment on their faces,” he taunts, the slick sound of his gloves against your dripping pussy burns your body in shame and excitement.  
“Don’t you dare,” you spit out, but you don’t sound so menacing since your voice breaks, and a pathetically high-pitched moan rolls from your tongue right after.  
“I said I’m not going to, I keep my promises,” he kneels to the ground, one hand keeping you spread more and the other is still busy taking care of you. “Maybe if you promise you won’t shoot or put me in handcuffs right away when you’ll find out who I am, I can eat you out. I bet you let out the prettiest moans when you have someone between your legs.” 
Your head rolls back, and you hiss. “You wish,” you retort through gritted teeth, but a part of you dies to know what that would be like. “I will never give you the satisfaction.” 
He laughs mockingly. “Maybe I should blindfold you and do it now, will you recognize me by that?” At those words your body tenses up, head standing straight again as you look down at him with terror in your eyes. “What?” He asks in a giggle, surprised by your reaction. “You’re fucking with me right now, I still have blood on me. Would that be the most problematic thing? Having fucked with me before? Without this mask?” 
“You’re just messing with me,” you mutter but your brain is trying to think, the list of the people you’ve been with is not that long, he can’t be so stupid to out himself like that, right? 
“Maybe… I love it when I can see you think,” he whispers. “Usually, you have your hands in your hair, pulling at it even if you just washed it or spent hours styling it, and then you nervously bite your right thumb, somehow there’s always a hangnail to pull until it bleeds, oh, and you also nervously walk back and forth, two steps forward, two steps back. It’s cute, really. You have no fucking clue how to stop this, but you look so into it, chasing after me… well, so you think because, let’s be honest, you’re only chasing after your tail.” 
You can’t believe he knows all of this, how close to you is he? And a few names start popping into your mind, but for each face that you see, your only answer is it can’t be. 
“Why are you surprised? I told you, I love watching you,” he says, voice scarily soft even through the distortion of the mask. “You’re very pretty, detective. When you work hard to catch me, and even more when you screw it all up to moan for me.” 
“Ugh,” you groan through gritted teeth, wrist rubbing against the rope keeping you in place and hips bucking up, anger and pleasure mixing like a drug in your brain. You hate to admit it, but you’re close and you doubt you can push back your climax any longer.  
“It’s alright, love, I told you, I won’t judge you,” he hums. He studies your face for a moment, admiring how your teeth trap your lips in the vain attempt to don’t truly show how much you’re enjoying this, but your eyes are filled with lust, lightly glassy, and your cum is painting his gloves white. “Now, will you come for me?” 
He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your body shutters as the orgasm washes over you, the quick movements of his fingers on your sensitive clit making your nails dig into the palm of your hands while your moans slip out of you freely. Your morality disappears, getting dragged away with the orgasm that consumes you before leaving. 
You forget where you are for a moment, or to be more precise, with who you are with, as you let your head roll back, close your eyes and take deep breaths, waiting for the high to pass. 
The thing doesn’t bother Ghostface, though, he sees enough fear in people’s eyes, he likes it better when you stop pretending and relax around him. That’s the thrilling thing about you, you are the most entertaining game he has ever played. With all the others he knows how it will end, their lifeless bodies laying in a pool of their own blood and the sirens of the police going off in the background as he blends in with the crowd, but with you? It’s unknown. Like a Russian roulette. 
He’d love to shred all your clothes off, but he knows you’d have to spill your guts (not literally) if you walk out of there completely naked, and he’s sure the version you would tell the police would add another crime to his name. So, he takes your shoes off and then pulls your pants down. 
Your laugh makes him raise his face and stare at you. “What’s so funny, dollface?” 
You shrug, wetting your lips. “You scare me more when you act all sweet, you know?” 
He scoffs, standing up again, and caressing your face. “You want me to hurt you so badly. I could carve a heart right here,” he presses the tip of the blade next to your heart, tracing the shape of a heart, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. “It would look so pretty on you, and you will always carry me with you. Isn’t it nice? Couple goals.” 
You raise a brow at him, he doesn’t even realize it, but he’s giving away so much of his personality, even if you don’t find it out now, you’re pretty positive all of this is leading you somewhere. You shake your head quickly, trying not to show how hard you’re thinking about your plan. “I only want one thing from you, and you know what it is.” 
He chuckles, leaning next to your ear. “My dick.” 
“Oh, fuck off,” you curse, accidentally kicking him now that your legs are free to move. You suck your breath in, fearing your move, even if involuntary, might piss him off.  
He hisses but doesn’t do anything else. “Don’t get all bratty here, doll. You said you wanted to play a game, and we’re going to play it until the end.” 
When he cuts your panties and balls them in his fist, saying “keeping them as a souvenir,” with a grin that can be heard in his voice, you only reply with an “asshole.” 
Once again, he doesn’t pay your insults any mind, and you wonder why he’s so nice to you. Should you fear it? Will you be his last victim, getting the worst death of them all because he needs to put on a show? “Now I will untie you, if you play any trick on me… you know how it ends.” 
You nod quickly, watching him disappear from your view as he stands behind you. You inhale when the knife places against your neck again and roll your eyes back. “You don’t have to do this every time, you know?” 
“It turns you on,” he retorts firmly. “And I need to make sure you don’t do any funny business.” 
Your eyes roll back again but you try to relax anyway and keep still when your wrists are finally free. Your shoulders are in a more comfortable position again as you subtly roll them to ease up. “Get up,” he orders, and you follow, moving carefully because the blade is still close to your body and you don’t want to end up dead on the floor. “Good, now lay on the mattress.” 
Your face twists in disgust when you’re reminded of the mattress on the floor, but he pushes you forward. 
“We didn’t kill anybody there.” 
You stop, turning around swiftly, and his reflections are rapid enough that he doesn’t push the knife into your chest. “We?” 
“Oh… it didn’t click yet…” He laughs darkly at your expression, the whole world falling on your shoulders as you wonder how could you be so stupid to not realize it. “Sorry, love. But hey, aren’t you happy I helped you out?” 
You glare at him but then bring your hand to your hair and your thumb to your lips. Of course, there are two of them, that’s the only way they could always be so headed of you. 
“Not the right moment to think about that,” he warns, voice dropping lower, making you stop your nervous ticks. “Get on the bed.” 
You turn around again, suddenly aware that he’s completely covered and you’re bare. That thought makes you seek the cover of the mattress more, and swiftly you’re laying where he wants you. But it also turns you on, being so exposed to him while he’s giving you not even a peak of who’s under the mask and the clothes send chills down your body and more cum drips out you.
“Promise you’ll be good? We can play cat and mouse later if you want to,” he asks, the blade running flat on your boobs, making him chuckle darkly when your nipples harden at the contact and your hips buck up. “You promise, detective?” He repeats with urge when you don’t reply, too busy watching the knife move on your body as he pins you down. 
“Promise,” you reply, looking into the blackness of the eyes of the mask. 
He chuckles under the mask, and you watch him unbuckle his pants. You could easily grab the weapon that’s on your stomach and stab him, you could even un-mask him, but you lay still, almost mesmerized. And the conscience inside of you likes to remind you how fucked up you and your morals are, but you brush it off, shaking your head quickly. 
“Turn around,” he orders, but you hesitate. That’s too much vulnerability. It’s clear he doesn’t like your hesitation when he groans, grabbing the knife and pushing it aside. “God, I have to do everything with you,” he sighs as he forcefully flips you on your stomach before his legs trap you again. This time you can’t do anything even if you want to, but once again, you don’t want to. 
“Fuck,” he moans, hands cupping your full ass and squeezing hard, the firm hold eliciting a moan from you. “Look at you, so fucking pretty. Keep your head down, don’t try to even get a peak,” he warns, and your immediate reaction is to turn around to understand what’s going on, but you know better, so you press your face into the pillow and only when you hear the loud sound of a spit and a glob of saliva drip between your folds you understand what happened. “Not that it was needed, you’re dripping. But you know, I like to get messy at times.” 
You turn your face around, resting your head on the pillow, and bite your lips. The smugness and insanity of his voice causing more cum to ooze out of your pussy.  
“I want to feel you so bad,” he hums, spreading your cunt, making you feel so exposed, “but will you run to the police? Will you tell them ‘oh no, I had to fuck Mr. Ghostface to have a bit of his DNA and save the town from this psycho’?” he mocks with a high-pitched voice, it doesn’t sound like you at all, more like a hopeless, brain-dead, blonde girl that dies within the first minutes of any horror movie. 
You snicker. “You underestimate me, I could say I got those traces from somewhere else.” 
“But will you? Also, I’m pretty sure they will find traces of you too. How humiliating would that be? Come on, honey, I won’t blackmail you, but you will screw yourself over? That’s not very smart of you.” 
He’s right, you hate that he’s right. You will have to out yourself in the process of trying to turn him in. “I — I won’t.” 
Deep down he knows you won’t, there’s no way they won’t trace it back at you too, and he also knows you won’t try to play the victim when you’re not, but he needs to be conscious, one wrong step and you could turn the game around. As much as he likes to mock you, he knows you’re smart and have been close to discovering them a few times, it was a matter of luck, and they were extremely lucky. 
“Better safe than in jail,” he chuckles darkly, you don’t even try to peer around, and only listen to the plastic of the condom rip. 
You whimper when you feel the tip against your slit, and you hide your face in the pillow as if that could change the reality of what you’re willingly doing. You’re too excited to be so ashamed of your actions, but, even if some may argue your morality is nowhere to be found, it still feels like a big balloon hovering over you. 
You shiver when you feel the mask rest on your shoulder, “Nah, ah, angel, no being ashamed now. I told you I don’t like rude people, so don’t be rude and ask me nicely to fuck you.” 
The urge to slap him is stronger than anything else, but once again your greed makes him win. “Please… please fuck me.”
“Not what I want to hear, you know what I want. We practiced the other night, haven’t we?” He reminds you, a hand creeping around your neck, holding tight enough to make buzzes of fear run through your bones. 
You close your eyes, inhaling as deeply as you can while trying to find the courage to humiliate yourself one last time, but then the words slip out, “Please, fuck me, Ghostface,” and the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he pushes into you. It’s a strong, deep thrust that fills you to the brim and knocks you over. Your head falls against the pillow again while his loud groan fills your ears, “Fuck, it sounds so good from your lips.” 
“Oh, fuck,” you curse through gritted teeth when he starts moving right away, barely giving you time to adjust to the feeling, thick dick grazing your insides and strong hands wrapping around your waist tightly. 
“Is it too much for you, detective? My sweet little angel can’t take it?” 
A groan slips past your lips, you try to stand up on your elbows, but he pushes you down. His body presses against your back and you feel trapped again. “Don’t move. I will fuck you so deep into this mattress that I will feel your scent for days after this. I want your face smashed against the pillow, I want it to be wet with your ruined makeup and tears, got it? ” 
You nod quickly, shoulders dropping as you slump against the mattress. His breathing next to your ear makes you shiver, and you wonder if that’s the last thing the non-so-lucky people have met him heard before dying. But you push it away, for the sake of your sanity, you have to fool yourself that you’re not so attracted to a bloody murderer, that your morals are still intact, and that you are a good person. 
It’s pathetic how all the anger you feel disappears with each calculated thrust, pleasure getting to your brain so quickly you stop holding back. Soft whimpers and moans roll out of your tongue and unconsciously your ass grinds back into him.  
“Fuck, that’s what I want to hear,” he hums, standing up while his hands wrap around your waist. He never wanted to burn those gloves so badly, feeling the urge to feel your burning skin and mark you with his bare hands, but he can’t risk it. That doesn’t mean he can’t leave marks in other ways. One hand leaves your hips and cups your boob, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Have I told you they’re so pretty?” 
“Mhh,” you mumble, eyes closing as he pinches down on your nipple. You wish you could say it hurt you but instead, it makes you clench hard around him, cum leaking out more with each pinch on your delicate, sensitive buds. 
“Shit, you really are into pain,” he comments, there’s mockery in his voice —like always— but there’s also a genuine surprise. “Who would’ve thought, my innocent detective is way more fucked in the head than I thought.” 
“I — I’m not,” you retort, groaning and forcing your eyes open, but the deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest makes you quiver, and your attitude drops in a moment. 
“Honey,” he slurs, voice dipped in honey, “you’re letting Ghostface fuck you dumb, you are fucked in the head.” 
You shake your head quickly, but he’s had enough of your lies. The rough tug at your hair makes you let out a choked gasp as your head is lifted from the pillow. “I know you better than anyone else, angel,” he groans, mask pressed against your hot face. “I know your dirty, little secrets. I know what runs into that dirty, little mind of yours. You can’t lie to me,” he almost purrs, a low chuckle making shame fire up inside of you, “and I can feel you, princess. Squeezing me, barely allowing me to pull out to fuck back into you. Fuck — I should feel you right now, no stupid rubber between us.” 
Another broken moan slips from your lips when he roughly lets go of the hold on you, your fingers clench hard around the thin sheet under you, and your hips jerk up even more. It’s like you want to feel him more, to have him imprint himself deep into you, so far under your skin that you won’t be able to wash him off, and you don’t even know why you feel like this. Why it made you feel like this a week prior too, all the hesitation and fear as you picked up the phone and heard his breathy, distorted voice, flying out of the window the moment he started ordering you around. But was it truly an order when your only hesitation came from the fear of judgement, and you could only feel your body tingle with excitement? Sitting in front of the window, having no idea where he was hiding, putting on a show for the killer you swore you hated and making yourself come the hardest you’ve ever done. 
“It makes you feel special, doesn’t it? The way you’re the only exception. The only one I would never hurt.” His voice is lower, hitting you to the core, making your toes curl and your breath falter in your chest. “You’re like a daisy in a garden of bloody, red roses.” 
“Please,” you breathe out, choking on your tongue, eyes fluttering open shyly. 
“Want me to stop?” He coos, head cocking to the side as he lands a sharp slap on your asscheek that makes you hiccup on a whimper and then another to your boob that drags a louder cry out of you. “Don’t want to hear how special you are?” 
But that’s not what you meant. Your pleads were about something else, something you struggle to confess. 
A deep laugh resonates in his chest as he looks down at your already wrecked face. You’re so precious, he can’t believe you sometimes think he could hurt you. His prettiest game, his wildest fantasy. The thrill he feels in his bones every time he’s close to you, so, so near to being discovered and yet always safe. It’s exciting, getting to his brain so much he can hardly hide how much it turns him on. But you’ve never been this close before. He dreamed about fucking you, having you pressed under him, begging, moaning and crying as his dick hit deep into your sweet pussy, pounding into you over and over again until you were nothing but mush in his hands. He wanted to strip you down completely and leave nothing of the women he sees and admires every single day. He dreamed of having all this power over you, watching you get weak on your knees and let him do anything he wanted, watching your body convulse in pleasure and your brain empty. And here you are now; wet, fucked-out eyes looking up at him while your pretty, plump mouth opens and closes as your shut-down brain tries hard to find the words. 
“Speak up, princess. I don’t like to wait.” 
“Please, wa-want to feel you,” you slur in a whisper, eyes blinking lazily as you try to hold onto what’s left of your sanity. 
He chuckles, his thrusts coming to a stop that makes you whine in disappointment. “You want me to fuck you raw, detective?” 
You hum, nodding slowly, not for the lack of enthusiasm but for the amount of shame that’s looming over you like a tornado. But Ghostface doesn’t like your silences, he doesn’t like it when you hesitate, that’s not what turns him on about you. It’s your impulses, the way you jump into things headfirst without thinking, for some it may be dumb, but to him, it’s just that sprinkle of insane bravery that makes life exciting. Your head is yanked up again with a rough pull of your hair, but his hold quickly moves to your neck. “I thought we were over the phase where I have to drag the words out of your mouth, detective. I’ll ask nicely one last time, do you want me to fuck you raw?” 
You swallow your pride and reply meekly, “Ye-yes.” 
He chuckles, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking in again with no warning, knocking the air out of your lungs, air that’s already struggling to fill them as his hold on your neck doesn’t loosen up. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it? Even your stupid brain could put two words together.” 
You gasp for air when he finally lets go and your face sinks on the pillow again. 
“I’d love to, but I won’t risk it. Maybe next time, maybe if I’ll ever feel like telling you who I am,” he replies, and you groan in disappointment. Not only he doesn’t give you what you want but he also mocks you, reminding you why you’re here and how your mission flushed down the toilet as you let him play you like a violin. 
“Then — fuck — please, fuck me harder,” at this point you want him to fuck you so hard your brain will just unplug and your superego can stop nagging at the back of your mind. You don’t want a single thought in your brain, just pleasure and lust. 
“That I can give it to you,” he hums happily, and in a second, he complies. His hips start snapping against you at a fast speed, his tip hitting you deep repeatedly as he keeps you arched back with one hand around your waist and the other one wrapped around the makeshift ponytail he made with your hair. 
You can already feel the orgasm build up at the tip of your stomach, but it only worsens when Ghostface roughly pulls you flat against him. Your head falls behind on his shoulder, eyes rolled far in your skull as your lips hang open to let out desperate moans and suck in as much air as possible. 
“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he moans, his thumb rubs against your neck and jaw while his right hand squeezes and pulls your boobs hard before pinching the nipples. “Listen to those pretty sounds you make,” he snickers, “and you still want to pretend you’re innocent and pure? You’re fucked up just like me, baby, that’s why I like you so much,” he slurs. 
You blink, once again adjusting to the light is uncomfortable but you make out just in time the fact he’s holding a Polaroid camera. “Smile for the camera, babe,” his voice rings in your ears but doesn’t reach your brain and before you know it, you’re coming just like that. The look on your face is not a smile but an expression of blissed pleasure, the exact moment as the climax explodes inside of you, making you clench around his dick and shake in his arms, your arm twisting back, letting your hand claps on his bicep and sink your nail in the thick fabric of the black cloak.  
Ghostface would like to say he’s disappointed and scold you for misbehaving, but he can only stare at you with amused disbelief written all over his face. But you only see the constant expression of the mask and once again, you fear for a second he’s mad at you. Truth be told, he could even kill you right now, you wouldn’t mind much or even notice, too lost in the pleasure that’s still looming on your body. 
“Fuck,” he mutters, hips slowing down until they stop completely, “you just gifted me the most precious pic in my collection,” he whispers. You feel like the edge of mockery is still persistent but at the same time something genuine lingers in it, it doesn’t make it less creepy, but the ‘fuck me harder method’ worked because you don’t question his, and yours, fucked morality and just smile dumbly. 
And that smile, united with the slow bat of your wet eyelashes, is what he needs to lose it. 
“Oh, fuck it, I’ll clean you up once we’re done and if you’ll try to turn me in, I��ll find out, so you better keep your promise, alright?” 
You don’t get what he’s talking about right away, too fucked out as you lay on the mattress waiting for his next move, but when he pulls out of you and swiftly pulls the condom out, you get it. You bite your lips in anticipation and swing your hips in invitation. 
The sight would be enough to make him come right there, and he damns himself because out of all people, you can’t be his biggest weakness. It got to be some fucking joke of destiny. “Will you go to the police?” 
“No,” you mumble.  
“Good girl, because these little games are just for us, me and you, you can’t use what we do here to help you with your case.” When he sinks inside of you again, he feels like he could lose it all for the way your wet, warm walls wrap around him. “Fuck, fuck,” he curses, voice even more distorted now that he murmurs through gritted teeth, “you feel so fucking good.” 
His thrusts now are almost primal, desperately pounding you against the mattress, keeping you pinned down with a hand on the back of your head —not that you need that, you wouldn’t be able to hold your neck up even if you wanted to— and holding for dear life on your hips with the other. You’ll probably have some bruises by the end of the night, if not colored prints on your skin, surely light discomfort at the touch will follow you for a few days. And you almost want to beg him for more, to mark you in some other ways, to leave something just for you to see and carry with you. Sick and perverted thoughts cross your mind, and you push them away swiftly. 
You bite down on your lips when his hand leaves your side to torture your nipples again, he can barely push his hand between your body and the mattress, but he has just enough space to play with your sensitive nipples, making them even harder and causing you to clench even more around him. He loves how sensitive you are there and how each rub, pinch, and slap has you easily squirming and moaning under him.
“Look at you, going all dumb on my cock,” he groans, mockingly giving one harsh slap to your tits before his fingers trace your cheek. Your skin is so hot he can almost feel it through the fabric separating you, but what he’s most fascinated about are your tears, black mascara running down your beautiful face, dying on the pillow and your tortured parted lips. “Are you still thinking about being better than me or — fuck — have you finally embraced your dark side?” 
Not a word comes out of your mouth when you whimper back, and not even a thought crosses your mind. 
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins smugly. “You know,” he breathes out, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to contain the orgasm, but he doesn’t want it to end so soon, “you should fire yourself and be my toy, just my toy, every time I need you, everywhere I need you. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? It’d make you feel even more special.” 
You mumble a weak reply, it’s a whispered ‘no,’ but your body doesn’t deny how much the thought turns you on. Too many responsibilities in your life and your job, too much to carry daily, but right now? Nothing. Guilt will eat you alive tomorrow but not now. Something feels exciting about being on the run with him, being the one that runs, instead of the one that chases. But it won’t happen, you believe in your job, and you want this slasher to end.  
“Cause only I can get you like this, ugh,” he grunts, hips slamming faster but more sloppily against your ass, the vulgar sounds filling up the room. “No man before and no man after will make you come this hard. Nobody, love. No matter how much you’ll want to, they all will disappoint you and you will look for me in every single one of them,” he groans, each word punctuated by a harsh slam of his hips, “well, the lucky ones that will get a taste before I’ll get them and kill them.” 
You don’t reply, just lay there, looking like a mess as you try to fight another orgasm because coming again would be humiliating. 
“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” You can hear the grin on his face and his voice has the edge of insanity of the usual. “Let’s be honest, you’ve got a list of shitty partners, you would’ve been grateful if I got rid of some of them.” 
“Fuck, just — just fuck me,” you beg, your hand reaching behind to touch him somehow, but he doesn’t like it. 
He grips your hand and pins it behind your back bending your arm, you hiss in discomfort, but he doesn’t let go. “Oh, no, angel. You don’t make the rules in this game, I do. If I want to sink into your brain and get so deep into you that I’ll make sure you will never come out the same, I will. I’m the darkest side of yourself, the fucked up filth you’re too afraid to face,” he groans. “And I know you’re close again. Your tight cunt is squeezing me, and you made a mess on the mattress,” he snickers. “Imagine if they find this place, this mattress, your DNA on it,” he stops, leaning next to your ear, voice dropping lower, “or better, imagine if they find us now. What do you say, detective? Would they be disappointed? Would they just jack off at the view? You look so hot right now, I wouldn’t blame them if they’d get off to you, to us together. Kill them surely, blame them not. We’re so hot, detective.” 
You squirm under him, feeling like the room is spinning fast and you can’t ground on anything. You have a darker thought in mind, something you can’t confess to him or else he won’t stop mocking you. You want to get caught, but not by your colleagues, by his partner. What would he do if he saw you and his partner in crimes like this? Would he understand this, or would he snap? Maybe even feeling betrayed. Does he even know you and him have been playing this game of attraction for a while now?  
Your silence doesn’t make Ghostface suspect anything. You simply look totally fucked out, brain empty as you plead in soft whimpers and moans. 
“You sound so fucking good,” he praises. “Why don’t we play another little game, uh?” 
Your eyes open in surprise and you hum with no strength, “what?” 
“Beg me to save your life,” he says, grabbing the knife again and placing it close to your neck. “Come on, do it for me, I won’t ever hear you say it because I will never want to kill you. Please, detective,” he coos, hips slowing down because your pussy is fogging his brain and he’s not sure his always-perfect aim and reflexes will work right now. 
You take a deep breath and then speak. “Please, Ghostface, please, spare my life.” 
His head rolls back, and a deep, groggy moan comes out of his lips. “Fuck, yes, keep going,” he orders, hips picking up the rhythm again as he skillfully flips the blade to the lesser sharp side just to be safe. 
And you obey. You beg, choked-up words slipping from your lips that soon turn into please, fuck me harder, and then please, wanna come. You feel boneless, your body is too hot, and you feel you might pass out, you need a release and then hope something bigger than you will make you get back on your legs and walk out of there as if nothing happened, as if you never followed your guts and found his —their— safe haven. 
“Come for me, love,” he orders, throwing the knife to the side before his hand sneaks under your body to roughly slap your clit a few times, enjoying the louder moans he drags out of you by doing so and watching with pleasure as your body squirms and shakes. “And don’t forget to smile for the camera.” 
This time your eyes lock with the polaroid that he points toward your face as his chin rests on your shoulder. But it only lasts for the time of the picture, your body collapses again when he lets go of your hair and you let the pleasure pervade you from head to toe. It’s breathtaking and mind-blowing, and next time you’ll fuck someone else you’ll hate that he’s right. You will feel him everywhere, you will feel his dick deep inside of you every time your fingers will desperately try to take its place, and every time you’ll let someone in your bed, but you don’t hate that thought as you should. 
“Fuck,” he groans, giving you a few more pumps to make sure you rode your high before slipping out and then roughly flipping you over. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation —honestly, you were struggling to keep them open in the first place. 
Your heaving chest, your parted lips still letting out cries, your wet cheeks, and your trembling closed thighs are the last drop he needs to let go. Deep moans reach your ears while his hot cum drops on your face, most on your skin but some in your mouth, and they get even louder when you shyly swallow it and lick your lips for more. 
“Fuck, fuck, you’re —” he gasps but doesn’t finish, holding onto nothing as he empties himself all over your face. “Fuck.”
He feels dizzy, the orgasm still shaking him up, but then he looks at you and has to bite back a moan. The white strings of cum are covering your blissed face, your eyelashes are clumped together by the tears, and your lips are plump and darker, he knows he doesn’t want to forget what you look like right now. “Smile one last time, baby.” 
And you do, the corners of your mouth lift and then you hear the click of the polaroid. You think for a second you should’ve told him to don’t take them, he could easily blackmail you, or straight-up get you fired, but once again, you don’t truly care, and you don’t deny how much the idea of those photos turned you on.
You should get up, grab your pants, jacket, shoes and leave. But you feel heavy and tired, you’re still shaking, and your breath didn’t go back to normal, yet. 
“Don’t worry, detective,” Ghostface whispers, something passes on your face to clean you from the mess, but you don’t know what, and only then you open them ajar, just to see he’s still wearing his mask. “I’ll take care of you.” 
The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see. 
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When you wake up, you’re in your bed, wearing your nightwear, completely cleaned up, but your bones and muscles are still sore, and a terrible headache is throbbing in the left side of your brain. You turn around, rubbing your eyelids with your palms before you can fully focus on the pillow and see three things on it. The Ghostface mask, a polaroid of you two from before, his face next to yours as he pulled your hair, and a note. 
“It was a pleasure playing with you, my pretty detective. Can’t wait to see what our next game will be like♡ ” 
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general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo
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© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).
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vampmoby · 4 months ago
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that one psycho pass ss
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ppdaily · 2 years ago
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Psycho-Pass SS Manga
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acroagoraphobe · 4 days ago
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I made a new fallout 4 oc. Nuka world again.
Name is Breaker (Not SS, because that's just boring to me)
He's a fuckin beast, who ripped an assaultron apart with his bare hands while fucked up on Psycho
Shit at talking to people (Especially after he gets ghouled) but super fuckin smart, power armor freak and a robot freak.
Yeah he's overboss, he used to be a Rust Devil but he either left or got kicked out.
Lost his arm to a mirelurk in world of refreshment, made himself a prosthetic one.
he's like 43, 6'2, and he has a major Boston accent.
Usually drags Gage around with him, Gage definitely doesn't like Breaker's chem and drinking habits. (As soon as he walked into Kidde Kingdom he immediately was like 'Nope, Gage, go back to Nuka Town. I am not dragging you around here.) And he was right to to that because that's how he ended up going Ghoul, from all the radiation. (Rad away did not help at his point.) Gage had to go check on him because he totally didn't get worried about him. Gage found the guy passed out at the front of Kiddie kingdom, literally glowing green. Gage had to DRAG him to the medic in the Nuka Town market because the guy is fuckin heavy as shit.
Breaker has a grudge against the operators because before nuka world one of the operators disrespected him majorly.
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aer-in-wanderland · 1 year ago
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PSYCHO-PASS: Providence - According to Japanese Twitter
After a long wait (or maybe it just felt long to me), PSYCHO-PASS: Providence finally hits North American theaters this week (14 July 2023), before becoming more widely internationally available in early August.
Unfortunately, as I'm not currently in Japan, I've not yet seen it. Fortunately, I speak Japanese, so I've read pretty much everything I could find about what happens. If you're like me and can't wait to see it in cinemas/don't mind major spoilers, this post is for you.
What follows is a compilation of everything my sister and I know about PPP -- drawing from fan talk on Twitter, director and writer interviews and tweets, and other official promotional materials only available in Japanese -- without actually having seen it.
We also explain some of the major plot points and go into detail on the real-life works referenced in the film, so if you watched it but feel like you could still use some clarification (as many Japanese fans did), this post might be for you too.
Once again, this post is nothing but spoilers (to be taken with several grains of salt as there is a certain amount of guesswork involved), so read on at your own risk.
*Note: "SN" denotes tweets/quotes by director Shiotani Naoyoshi.
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We open on a snowy, stormy night, January 2118 (2 months post-SS Case.3).
A team of armed mercenaries board a transport ship off the coast of Kanagawa, Japan and set about killing the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MOFA) Suppressing Action Department (SAD) agents on board. 
Among them is Kai Mikhaylov, a Russian agent with a large burn scar on the left half of his face.
Kai Mikhaylov (VA: Kase Yasuyuki): A member of the “Peacebreakers.” In order to obtain the Stronskaya Document, he launches an attack on the ship Milcia is on. 
Leading the mercenaries is fellow mercenary Bokamoso Murray, who sports distinctive red dreadlocks.
Bokamoso Murray (VA: Shirokuma Hiroshi): A combatant affiliated with the “Peacebreakers.” He operates in tandem with Kai Mikhaylov; beginning with the assault on the Grootslang, he works to seize the Stronskaya Document. 
For the record, the Grootslang (the ship’s name) is a mythical giant snake rumoured to dwell deep in a cave in the Richtersveld, South Africa. It’s said that anyone who encounters it will meet with misfortune. Well then.
Indoors on the same ship, we find Dr Milicia Stronskaya, who has been invited to Tokyo from Russia to participate in an important political conference. 
Milcia Stronskaya (VA: Tsuda Shōko): A researcher and global authority on behavioural economics and statistics. She establishes the basic theory simulation referred to as the “Stronskaya Document.”
Realising the ship is under attack, she hurriedly sends a communication to someone, apologising under her breath as she does so.
She pulls out a gun just as a helmeted mercenary bursts into the room, and she shoots him dead. You can tell from how she handles it that she’s competent.
Kai charges in next, dodging her shots and pinning her down.
Leaning over her, Kai calls her “professor,” at which she startles. He then says to her, “There’s nowhere left to run.”
Kai shoots Dr Stronskaya, killing her. 
Bokamoso shows up then and says to Kai, “You screwed up, huh, Kai,” and “We’re switching to Plan B.”
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Meanwhile, Kogami Shinya, one of our two main protagonists, heads to her rescue.
Kōgami Shinya (VA: Seki Tomokazu): Special Investigator, Suppressing Action Department, Overseas Coordination Bureau, Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Age 33. He was living a nomadic life abroad acting as a mercenary but was recruited by Frederica and returned to Japan; currently, he’s pursuing international incidents. He prides himself on his advanced combat techniques and honed physique.
Kogami makes an insane jump from an aircraft wearing a wingsuit. (I’ve seen him described alternately as Batman, Captain America, and a flying squirrel here lol)
SN: What colour suits a man who flies... Thinking about it.
Kogami proceeds to fight his way through the enemy soldiers with his typical efficiency.
Unfortunately, he arrives too late to save the professor, and the mercenaries have already absconded with her head. The reason for this is explained later.
On deck, Bokamoso and his team board their aircraft and make their escape.
Kogami, who has followed them out, takes aim at the aircraft but is tackled to the deck by a reanimated SAD agent. The man’s mouth doesn’t move but we hear a voice quoting what appears to be a passage from a religious text.
An explosion goes off and Kogami breaks free of his attacker and escapes the conflagration by jumping into the ocean.
Backlit by the flames and treading water, Kogami — vexed but composed as usual — reports on the situation via his device.
<<Opening Credits>>
OP: 「アレキシサイミアスペア」 (alexithymiaspare) ~ 凛として時雨 (Ling tosite sigure)
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We cut to the opening credits, set to Ling tosite sigure’s “Alexthymiaspare.” The group also contributed to the soundtracks for PP1, PP2, and PP: The Movie (M1), so this is one of many ways in which the film “returns to its roots.”
The credits are then followed by a brief shot of the Sibyl System accompanied by the following text: 《"The Sibyl System," a vast surveillance network that assigns numeric values to and governs human beings’ mental states. Detectives who carry "Dominators" — guns that measure "crime coefficients" — pursue "latent criminals" before they commit crimes.》
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The next morning, our other main protagonist, Tsunemori Akane, now Chief Inspector of the CID, attends a meeting of senior bureaucrats to discuss the proposed abolishment of the Ministry of Justice and the old system of law.
Tsunemori Akane (VA: Hanazawa Kana): Chief Inspector of the Ministry of Health and Welfare’s Public Safety Bureau. Age 25. She commands the Public Safety Bureau’s Criminal Investigation Department. She possesses an incontrovertible sense of justice and a stalwart mentality that makes it difficult for her Hue to cloud; she makes an appeal for maintaining the law under the Sibyl System.  
The official name of the conference, which is being held at Nona Tower (i.e. the Ministry of Welfare’s HQ), is “Review Meeting on the Topic of the Overseas Expansion of Industry RE: the Sibyl System.”
Shindo Atsushi — father to PP3 protagonist Shindo Arata — is also in attendance, alongside officials from the Ministry of Health and Welfare, the Ministry of Public Management, Home Affairs, Posts and Telecommunications, the Ministry of Justice, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
Shindō Atsushi (VA: Sugō Takayuki): Director-General of the Statistics Department, Minister’s Secretariat,  Ministry of Health and Welfare. One of the elite who started his career as an Inspector [at the CID] and entered the MHW. He’s involved in the exportation of the Sibyl System, immigration policy, etc.
For the record, this is the same conference that Dr Stronskaya was originally scheduled to attend at Atsushi’s invitation.
Akane is the only woman and by far the youngest person present, but she doesn’t hesitate to say her piece. When it’s her turn to speak, she opens by saying, “‘Under the Sibyl System, the law is unnecessary.’ Is that truly the case?”
Akane is basically the sole voice of dissent, while Atsushi assumes a more neutral position. 
During the meeting, Atsushi receives a text message, which he checks covertly before stashing his device in an inner pocket of his suit jacket.
Moments later, Akane receives a red alert on her device and excuses herself.
Atsushi calls a break in the meeting while Akane steps out to take a call from Mika.
Shimotsuki Mika (VA: Sakura Ayane): Inspector, Division 1, Criminal Investigation Department, Public Safety Bureau, Ministry of Health and Welfare. Age 21. The youngest Inspector ever inducted. At the time, she took a negative stance towards Akane’s way of thinking, but the two have a good working relationship now. She’s competitive but possesses both presence of mind and rational judgement.
Director Shiotani tweeted a quote by Rousseau that I saw someone identify as having been in reference to this scene. It’s not clear to me though whether a character quotes it aloud, or if Shiotani just meant it as an overarching theme:
SN: “Keep this truth ever before you—Ignorance never did any one any harm, error alone is fatal, and we do not lose our way through ignorance but through self-confidence.” by.Rousseau
from Rousseau’s Emile (On Education), Book III
SN: “Real knowledge is knowing the extent of one’s ignorance.”〈matcha emoji〉
from Confucius’ Analects II, Political Philosophy
Keep reading here.
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blackshadow2084 · 1 year ago
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Mild Spoilers of Psycho-Pass Providence?
So I just came back from watching Psycho-Pass Providence.
And god know how excited I have been to see this and I think it was worth it. But where I live people don’t really know Psycho-Pass and most of them who have watched it have forgotten about it after season 1 or 2 (very sad coz I think it’s worth it) so the theatre had like 10-12 people including me and my two friends, who binged the whole season 1 and 2 for me in a week.
It was an emotional roller coaster with us questioning our morals with every scene and it had be on the edge of my seat throughout. Like Kougami’s return and everyone’s reaction to it, the call, the letter and the last scene !!! Omg the last scene had me a little teary coz I could feel how drained Akane was and that moment of being fed up of very thing and wanting to give everything up but you can’t coz you are in too deep OMG. Also my favourite character (and my husband, yes it was love at first scene in season 1) Ginoza did so good, like his anger towards Kougami and then him being so Tsun-Tsun (OMG so cute so cute him being tsundere is so freaking cute omg) while trying ask Kougami if his leg was okay(and omg when his hair came down HIS HAIR CAME DOWN I REPEAT THEY WERE OPEN AND WHAT A BEAUTY HE IS OMG, i am sorry i just love him too much).( and since the theatre was empty and I thought I would probably never see these people every again, I screamed out my love for him and claimed him mine in the theatre it was so embarrassing but it was like I lived my otaku dream so I am very happy).
I see that Shimotsuki has character development which fills the gap between the SS movies and season 3. It’s nice to see but honestly I still really don’t like her but thats me( anyone being rude to ginoza has been considered enemy by me)
I wished there would be one scene for us to see Dime and Ginoza together.
So anyone willing to fan girl Ginoza text me I am always available to simp my husband and also check out the Ginoza fan fiction I am writing I promise it ain’t half bad( it’s pinned in my profile)
:)))))))))))))))
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sekainofantasy90 · 2 years ago
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狡朱 Shinya/Akane ❤️🔥 PSYCHO-PASS: PROVIDENCE THE MOVIE PV 「劇場版 PSYCHO-PASS PROVIDENCE」PV
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faefaye · 5 months ago
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Frederica to Kogami, SS Case 3:
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Me:
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lemonadecandy103 · 1 year ago
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Ok I’m just gonna say it. My feelings about Kougami up to this point:
(Disclaimer: I have not seen PPP yet so my impressions are based on the spoilers and discussions that all the watchers have had, -and they are subject to change) - also trying to separate my shipper feelings from this but beware of my inherent bias anyway.
Season 1: Kougami is generally very warm and protective towards Akane. He doesn’t see her as a woman yet but they both validate each other to an unimaginable degree. I mean, she risked her life and psycho pass to help him track down Makishima who ppl believed was a ghost. She restored the credibility of his investigative abilities and made him actually think that there might be a better world without the structural divisions that they have. That didn’t stop him from breaking the law but it’s obvious that he especially thought very highly of her even after leaving the country.
Psycho Pass: The Movie: honestly, the movie is so enjoyable with regards to Kougami’s character development. He smiles at Akane so much in this movie, tries to get validation from her and again is really protective of her. They definitely pose Akane as more womanly and more as a equal with him - both in physical and mental abilities. She also impresses him several times in the film. He’s overall amused like “wow, she actually followed me all the way out here. What a woman”
SS Case 3: He sings praises of Akane ofcourse, even in the presence of an undeniable beauty like Frederica. If anything, we can contrast Frederica finding him to Akane finding him in the first movie, and his dialogue and body language alone show how he’s mildly annoyed by or at least resistant to Frederica’s presence. Most of his character arc here is in relation to Tenzing though which I suppose was supposed to teach him to be responsible for more than just himself(?), but that ends up being left open ended during his fight with Garcia (I mean he stabs the man to death before they can conclude the dialogue). Overall though, Kougami’s smiles are for Tenzing here and also when he’s saying that he’ll return to Japan.
Season 3 and First Inspector: He’s either all focused on the investigation at hand or with Akane. Everytime he smiles in this season- it’s for Akane! And not to mention, they don’t even really discuss work or philosophy in their interactions, but more about themselves and what they’ve missed from each other after being separated for years. This is what gave me hope that his emotional intelligence had improved and he would finally find some peace in Akane’s presence.
Providence: Based on what I’ve read, Kougami feels rather out-of-character in this. Like a weird blip in the timeline of his character arc. All the bonus scenes I saw anyway just made his interactions with Akane awkward. I didn’t expect it to be absolutely smooth but where’s the warmth that he initially had for this woman in S1 and the 1st movie??? What is this fuckboi behavior Kougami??? Maybe he’s able to make up for it in the 3rd act of Providence at least based on the notes I’ve read but he’s just so cold. Like he has a point to make?? I’m so confused. The tone of Providence is just cold in general and we keep seeing scenes where Ko and Akane are just on their own, never really together and communicating - the rain, the ice, the cold city drafts - just adds to it. But maybe the fact that S3 and PPFI comes after this gives us hope that he did get his act together and maybe visited her more and actually talked this out with her while she was in confinement. Maybe we’ll get some bonus scenes in a novel format.
I haven’t even seen PPP yet and I already need a season 4 to redeem Kougami’s character like what the hell. (And I’m sure the animation staff are exhausted and I don’t wanna encourage overworking them) - even if it’s like a measly 45 sec scene, I need to see the warm and caring Kougami again.
Providence looks phenomenal though - the team definitely outdid themselves - and I can’t wait to watch it.
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fictionfixations · 7 months ago
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Out of Context TWST
imgs are from:
Prologue Book 1 Fan translation of Cater's ceremonial robes vignette Rook's ceremonial robes vignette Book 5 Book 6 Book 7 Spectral Soiree Tsumderland 2 A Firelit Sky Jade's Halloween Groovification Message
and then i gave up (was gonna go in order after laughing at the first img. now its a mishmash of me randomly remembering some bits i wanted to add, and removing the ones that didnt mesh too well)
recently finished book 6 and starting book 7 so there's a bunch of book 6 imgs in here
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(note: I can't find the lashing of love line when we encounter Crowley for the first time?? I swear it was there before but now its just not??)
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[Lilia: What's this? You'd really turn down my juice?!]
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[Vil: WAAAH!]
you get no context whatsoever except that he's sobbing (for three long hours.. its funny i swear). i refuse to show you the visual if you haven't seen it yet.
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["I shall even spare it from being served as dinner."]
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[Crowley: If you're not satisfied with my offer, I can arrange to have you thrown out again.]
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[Grim: Not more lashings of love! We gotta get outta here! Ace: OW!]
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[Deuce: Because I'm going to launch you.]
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[Epel: You're...hurting me. Please, let go?]
*proceeds to beat everyone up* /hj
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[> Then it's kill or be killed!]
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[Grim: I'd recognize that collar anywhere. It's the same one that psycho stuck on me at orientation!]
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[Cater: Aww yeah, I am getting my paint on!]
[Cater: Even so, he'll have a mom.]
Context because I can't share more imgs: In his Ceremonial Robes vignette, he's basically guessing what people's dorm will be with Trey. When they get to Epel, he goes,
[Cater: He's by far the cutest~! If he had an older sister, don't you think she would be a total stunner?
[Insert Trey's response]
Cater: Even so, he'll have a mom.]
He clarifies that he's joking but still LOL
(this was changed in the eng localization to a comment about washing dishes)
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[Vargas: Great sorcery begins with a great physique! Behold the muscles you can build with a diet of raw eggs!]
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[> Muscly dog man, sure why not.]
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[Ace: A painting? Hard pass! I don't care how cute she is if she's two-dimensional!]
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[Riddle: It's not absurd! It's literally the law!]
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[Leona: Hey, I'm into it.]
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[???: *sniff* *sniff*]
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[Floyd: Whaaat? Sorry, can't hear you, man! Hair dryer go brrrr!]
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[Deuce: You don't get to call my eggs stupid. You don't get to call ANY eggs stupid!]
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[Grim: So you were only a little more annoying than you are now? > I did notice you had that vibe...]
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[(Jade) "Oooh, I love it when you flee in terror. It makes me want to chase you!"]
SS from:
But I found what card it's actually from by the wiki
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[Malleus: Oh, now I have to clean up your waste? You little scamp.]
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[Deuce: For sixteen years, I was so sure...]
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[Cater: Ooh, it's almost time! Okay, all you sexy body doubles, that's a wrap!]
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[Deuce: I fell and got a boo-boo. Ouchies. *sob*]
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[Jade: Oh dear, how did I get into this mess? Don't tell me you planned for me to get caught this whole time...!]
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[Jamil: So I made wet burgers.]
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[Grim: What if there's an assassin out for our blood?!]
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[Lilia: "Lilia. When I woke up this morning, Drago was gone. Now there's this egg in his place. What should I do?"]
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[Vil: EEEEE HEE HEE! YEEESSS!]
i cannot explain the utter joy contained within that one voice line. It's just pure exhilaration.
this lives rent free in my brain (along with the kiss. you get no more context besides that)
(it looks funny without the voice attached tho LMFAO. it's like a "Kyaa~! Yatta!" as in like a scream/yell and then 'hurrah/I did it/yes/sweet'! ehh, basically joy when things go well)
there's a limit to how many images you can put in one post. oops.
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smokingasters · 1 year ago
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Hi, do you think Frederica is a potential love interest for Kogami?
Hi Anon, thanks for the ask ❤️ Yes, I do. If Psycho-Pass ever goes that route, I would like to see the potential dynamic between Frederica and Kogami. I shipped these two since the SS Case 3. I felt as though there was a bond, maybe it was the dinner scene or the conversation they had after on the cliff, or maybe it was the infamous water bottle scene, but there is a charm to them as a couple.
I liked how Frederica understood Kogami's emotions and she helped him come to terms with the aimlessness of his journey, where she respected his methods even if they were less than savoury. Then again, she was recruiting a new hound for her team, so she did have ulterior motives but the fact that Frederica learned about Kogami from Saiga makes me extrapolate that she was intrigued about his history personally, so I believe at least from her side she might have some romantic interest. Plus she doesn't hesitate to boss him around when necessary.
Kogami is quite guarded around her even in the novelization and the text makes it quite clear (even Tenzing picks up on it) that Frederica is flirting with him. Kogami is quite clueless as to how to respond to her advances, which to me was hilarious.
Anyhow, we don’t know Kogami’s thoughts about Frederica, whether he sees her in a romantic light, so I’m not going to jump the gun and assume that it will happen.
Also, I am aware that Shinya x Akane and Shinya x Gino are highly popular ships that tick off many of the romantic couple tropes thus they are more likely to become canon than Frederica x Shinya if the writers decide to go ahead with any romantic relationships.
A part of my heart will ship them despite the fact that Frederica x Kogami shippers are a minority 🥰 Not to mention Tenzing secretly ships them.
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