#metal frenzy
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gardensoflife-blog · 2 years ago
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… und das hab ich alles verpasst :(
Aber dieses Jahr gibt es reichlich Möglichkeiten das nachzuholen
Steelpreacher 🤘
M.I.S.E OPEN AIR hier
HEADBANGERS OPEN AIR hier
Metal Colonia Fest hier
Running free festival hier
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chilei-the-hotsauce · 4 months ago
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FINALLY got enough off time to draw dusk <3
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lezbiansolidsnake · 1 year ago
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hui guys
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sharkgirldick · 8 months ago
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Having normal thoughts about blood this morning. Well, normal for a shark anyway.
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majorpepperidge · 11 months ago
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does this look like the face of mercy
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guerrilla-operator · 1 year ago
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Lamp Of Murmuur // Conqueror Beyond the Frenzied Fog
What destiny departs us Our lord of all hate and sorrow Bring them to their knees Conqueror beyond the fog…
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jackfromthefairytale · 1 year ago
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snowblood is outright the metalcore song of all time I don't know what it is about that song specifically but it has everything
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visual-oddities · 2 years ago
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Jetstream Sam is a GAMER!
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bigangrytrev · 1 year ago
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Transformers Collection - Prime
And thus the great cataloging of my personal collection continues. The Transformers Prime cartoon came out while the live-action movies were at their peak in popularity,  and so took on much of their asthetic.  Prime as a long-nosed cab, Arcee as a motorcycle, Bumblebee having a damaged voicebox – all lifted from the Movieverse.  This meant that poor old Ironhide lost his spot on Team Prime as…
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theartofmetal · 2 years ago
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143. Tragic Magic - Spell (Heavy Metal/Hard Rock, 2022)
Art by Władysław Podkowiński: "Frenzy Of Exultations", 1893
"Despite the success of the painting, Podkowiński could not find a willing buyer. On the morning of 23 April 1894, Podkowiński came to the exhibition [in the Zachęta National Gallery of Art] and slashed his painting with a knife. The reasons for this act are unclear."
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epoch5zz · 1 year ago
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A Pinned Post About Me
Hello!
Welcome to my Tumblr (TM) where words and thoughts will tumble along! If you have found this and for some reason wanted to know more about me.
This is my blog that is mostly about fandom and fun stuff.
If you want my more serious writings on philosophy & theology:
https://sorenthestoryteller.tumblr.com/
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/SorenPorter
Twitch:
twitch_live
The Basics: -He/him -INFJ -Millennial -Christian Theologian & Philosopher -Perpetually Taken -Writer of Words -Player of Songs -DM/GM/Player of Tabletop RPGs -Pro-Choice, -LGBTQA+ Ally -Sworn Enemy of White Nationalism, Homophobia, Transphobia, Racism, Classism, and ANYONE who thinks they have a right to be cruel to anyone.
Fandoms of Note in No Particular Order: -Whovian (Classic, New, and Newer) -Persona 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and all the spin offs -Chrono Trigger -Lord of the Rings -Final Fantasy -Discworld -Wheel of Time -Lovecraft -U2 -Delta Green -Deadlands -The Matrix -Five Iron Frenzy -Earth Bound/Mother -Dresden Files -Babylon 5 -Magic: The Gathering -Twin Peaks -Resident Evil -Gravity Falls -Metal Gear -Welcome to Nightvale -Mother She Wrote -Midnight Burger
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forgetleighnot · 1 year ago
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cant remember which one of my friends asked me about whether or not i have contamination issues due to my ocd and i really looked them in the face and said "nah not really" forgetting i fully had a meltdown about aluminum foil like 4 months ago
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sunarctus · 2 months ago
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Just watched luke westaway play the midra boss fight and fuuucckk that entire boss design is sick in both senses of the word. Love how fuck up fromsoft stuff can be
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aomiiine · 9 days ago
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HE LOVES HIS OFFICER!
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𐔌  .   𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆  ୧ ──── PRAEDATOR! SYLUS + ENFORCER! FEM READER
W☆RNINGS. N!SFW/MDNI (18+) — cockhead pinching, hate fucking vibes, orgasm denial/orgasm delay, cock ring, handjob, cock slapping (once), feral sylus, tame(?) bdsm-ish vibes, restraints (chains obv), a bit predator/prey dynamic, slight praise kink (reader), might be ooc sylus but idc lol, switch m & f, overstim, hints of corruption (sylus -> you), quite heavy degradation (reader to him & him to reader. ie; slut, bitch, animal, etc.), that tongue scene lmaoaoa, kind of (not canon) improvised lore at the end, ‘kitten’ is used twice i think, all smut no plot, not proofread wordcount is 1.7k edited to 1.9k
TAGLIST. @tinycatharsis @jellysix @wonryllis @tsukkisukkii @wonuwuuuuu
author’s comment. thinking ab making a small event for valentines day w the lnds guys based on the new banner.. tell me what u think abt this one though! also, this is just me exploring these kinks so pls pardon me if they aren’t well written :’) Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated !! <3
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“As if the frenzy enhancer wasn’t enough, you had to put a fucking cock-ring on me when I’m already this fucking hard, you slutty minx.”
Chains clanged and rattled from Sylus’s writhing, hands balling to fists in his attempt to yank the metal cuffs off him. It was in vain, of course, but you couldn’t blame him. You were tasked to interrogate him by your superior but here you were—absolutely torturing his big cock by denying every single orgasm.
It was almost sad honestly. The way his dick curved to his belly, abs flexing with every ragged breath he took. His tip leaked what seemed to be a steady stream of pre-cum staining his stomach, his arousal making a mess of the white nest on his pelvis, swollen shaft throbbing like a fucking heartbeat in anticipation on what your next move would be.
“The cock-ring was a necessary measure taken for you to speak. Since your mouth wont tell me the information I need, maybe your stupid cock will,” you scoffed at his glower, landing a slap onto his stiff cock, earning yourself a hiss. His teeth gritted and bared at you in obvious agitation from the endless heat running through his veins and the frenzy enhancer.
“Maybe if you stopped being a cruel bitch and let me cum already, I’d fucking speak.”
“Information first, reward later,” you replied swiftly, hand reaching out to wrap around his needy dick, stroking him half-heartedly, not even bothering to pay a sliver of attention to his weeping tip.
“Oh, fuck you.”
“No, thank you.”
Sylus groaned loudly, wrists tugging on the biting metal cuffs hanging over each side of his head. His breath quickened, guttural moans rumbling from his chest from the lazy strokes you gave him.
Sylus felt utterly humiliated that he was being so damn sensitive at the weak jerks of your soft palm around his slick cock, his hips rolling to fuck into your fist. His ego was bruised, but he wasn’t one to dwell on it. Instead, he’d like to move on and have you kiss fuck it better.
“Do you not know how to stroke a cock, kitten? Is my little enforcer a virgin?” Sylus’s voice was low and husky when he spoke, hands relaxing on the chain to lean down forward, his large and tall frame looming over your smaller one just before you could retaliate his remark.
The shadow sylus’s figure casted over yours was undeniably intimidating—especially so when his nearly crazed eyes gleamed at you in a predatory gaze. His head dipped closer to yours, stray strands of his white hair falling over his eyes as he searched for your irises.
It took every will in your body to not flinch, refusing to show him a single shred of weakness to exploit. Except, Sylus merely grinned at your bravado, tongue darting out to lick his lips as if he was staring at prey.
“Scared of a little proximity, my dear enforcer?” The mockery in his voice grated at your nerves, your features contorting into a grimace on instinct.
“You animal,” you seethed, grasp on his cock tightening to a point bordering on pain. Your praedator gasped sharply, leaning away to throw his head back in relief when you began stroking him, fast.
Every deliberate flick of your wrist brought hot white pleasure to his strained body, eyes closing shut with nothing but deep, drawn out groans leaving his throat. The chains began rattling against, muscles flexing with effort when he felt himself nearing an explosive orgasm.
“Yes— oh fuck, yes, make me cum, you dirty bitch,” he grunted in a near whimper, hips rocking upward uncontrollably when your hand began focusing on his crown. Your index finger and thumb created a circle around the head to stimulate his glans continuously, pads of your fingers purposely rubbing over the sensitive frenulum.
“Calling me a bitch when you’re the begging to cum like a manwhore,” you tsked disapprovingly, quickening your strokes while your glared intense at his deep red cock, the cock-ring tight on his base to keep him rock hard.
You didn’t miss the way his slit continued to leak, his arousal betrayed by the way he kept producing natural lube for you to use. “At least I’m honest—agh—fuck! I wanna cum so bad, baby, please,” Sylus stammered, head hung low with droplets of sweat falling down his flushed skin.
You considered showing him mercy at his plea, truly. His cock was throbbing around your fingers, balls drawn up tight to his body with pent up cum—why couldn’t you just let the poor man cum his brains out already?
“I don’t know.. I’m not getting the information I want,” you uttered teasingly, not truly contemplating the thought. Even if you did, the answer would always fall on ‘no’.
You could see how Sylus was on the edge of cumming with how his legs quivered subtly, abdomen muscles flexing and relax with each stroke. His cock was steaming hot in your hand, warm with fresh cum flowing up to his shaft. Yet just moments before he was about to release, your ministrations ceased, two fingers stopping just below his glans to pinch his sensitive flesh, forcefully halting his orgasm.
“Motherfucker—I was just about to fucking cum all over your uniform, you—” he snarled, nostrils flaring with every intake of breath. His nose scrunched up briefly in pure infuriation, eyes closed as he leaned his head back, the corners of his lips twitching to a smile.
“When I get out these chain, kitten, I’ll get back at you so fucking good, you’ll be crippled for weeks,” he huffed in a scoff before punctuating his threat with a harsh tug on the metal cuffs restraining him to the metal bars of the cage, the chains clattering loudly. His throat was stretched and exposed for you to see, skin glistening with perspiration and Adam’s apple bobbing.
The sudden motion startled you, sending your heart beating faster than it already was. Your assigned praedator was unhinged, you knew that much from his files—but you didn’t expect him to be this unhinged.
Despite that, it sent your heart racing rather than falling into the pit of your stomach. You felt excited, fucking thrilled even. Your pupils dilated as if you just found your fix, like a cat setting its sights on its newest toy.
“Mmhm, sure,” you muttered with a faint yet noticeable tremble to your voice. It caught Sylus’s attention in an instant.
the sweat sheened praedator finally lifted his head, tilting to the side with intrigue glinting in those crimson irises. “Are you liking this, kitten?” He said with his now hoarse voice, smirk stretching more than it should. “‘S that why you decided to make this cage for me? Using this place as your personal sex dungeon? Yeah, I see it. The eyes of the depraved.”
Sylus’s eyes narrowed with sadistic glee, no doubt pounding with satisfaction at the thought of corrupting his righteous enforcer and throbbing with an ongoing orgasm, cock still held in place by yours unwavering fingers.
It took you a moment to regain your composure, still reeling from the shot of adrenaline he gave you. Eventually, you caught yourself again, inhaling deeply before dropping your eyes to his cock between your digits, shaft still pumping with kept cum.
With a bite of your tongue, you released him of punishment, letting his cum spurt out onto his stomach in ropes.
”yesyesyesss— mmph, god fucking damn it!”
His balls pulsed with his length as thick, hot stuttering streams of semen dripped to the floor, your hand not hesitating to wrap around his girth, pulling his stiff dick towards you and letting his cum make white messes on your dark coloured uniform.
“There, I let you cum.” You spoke sounding just as winded as Sylus who was basking in the mind-numbing relief of emptying his balls to the fullest after accumulating it all in his cock for what felt like hours.
“You did.. Yes, you did, you good girl,” he slurred, no doubt basking in the afterglow shameless, hips thrusting shallowly into your hand for the slightest bit of friction.
A brow twitched when you heard him call you good girl all of the sudden. Your lashes batted at him, lips parted in surprise until your head dipped once more, averting your gaze.
The cock-ring at the base of his dick was slid off him, his body chasing your heat as you pulled away and tucked his cock back into his pants, zipping him back up. You allowed him slump bonelessly with his hands tied up above his head, leaving him panting for air.
He must’ve said it ‘cause he was drunk of the high, not because he meant it, was a mantra you repeated in your mind to convince yourself. Regardless, you couldn’t deny how it sent goosebumps up your nape, hair standing at attention, couldn’t deny how a single fleeting praise made your throat go dry and breathing quicken.
“I expect full cooperation tomorrow morning, Sylus.” you blurted, focus moving back to him before you backed away a few steps and stormed out his cage, locking it securely behind you.
You practically sped walked out the prison underground, heading straight to the elevator leading back up to your office.
Once you were in the metal box, you fished for a handkerchief in your pocket, frantically using it to wipe the stains of his seed on the front of your uniform.
With quivering hands, your rubbed it off you the best you could to fade the colour so you could excuse it a spill of chemicals or something to your colleagues—even if that wasn’t what really happened.
Your little rendzvous with a praedator—a SSS ranked dangerous praedator at that—risked more than your job. You yourself could be detained for being suspected of having intercourse with a praedator. You’d be an experiment, again, for researchers to exploit if sex could turn you into a praedator.
But unfortunately, deep down, you knew you’d come back to him again. After all, nothing intoxicated you more than dancing with that red eyed devil tied up at your mercy.
Finally reaching your office floor, you got off the elevator, walking in a bee line past your busy colleague, eyes on the ground to avoid contact with any of them. You didn’t know if you could handle speaking or explaining (lying) about your situation to anyone right now.
you pulled on the back of your chair, taking a seat and immediately holding your head in your hands, rethinking your life choices—the one where you decided to change your occupation from Hunter to Enforcer. Your hands slid down your face, eyes falling to the handkerchief, a reminder of your earlier affair.
Only then did the events dawn on you, your entire body processing the audacity and brazen display you showed Sylus. Now you crumbled in the solace of your safe space away from his predatory gaze.
A hand came up to your mouth, lips capturing a finger to nibble on when your thighs rubbed against one another, making you realise how fucking drenched your panties were. That damn praedator had you this wet in a rut without laying a finger on you—how pathetic of you.
One thing was for sure, you’d call in leave early to rub this compiled arousal off quick—it didn’t matter if you had to wet your sheets with cum, you needed this feeling gone, asap.
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littlepeach-world · 1 month ago
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The Midnight Misunderstanding
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Pairing: Frontman/Hwang In-Ho x Pregnant!Wife!Reader
Summary: You give in to your late-night pregnancy cravings and slip out quietly, leaving your husband, Hwang In-ho, to wake up in a frenzy when he finds you missing.
Warnings: Angst, Fear of losing someone, grief, pregnancy, cravings, gun, slight fluff, soft-Inho.
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Late into the night, you stretch quietly in bed, your mind drifting through sleepy fog and growing sharper with an insistent craving. Turning to your side, you see your husband, Hwang In-ho, sleeping peacefully beside you. The chill of the night air sends shivers down your spine, but the thought of satisfying your craving warms you with determination. The clock reads 2:47 AM.
Knowing how hard In-ho has been working and how much rest he needs, you decide to slip out discreetly, believing you can make it back before he even notices. You pull on a warm coat, gather your essentials, and tiptoe out the door, careful to close it softly behind you.
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Hours seem to pass in what feels like minutes. In-ho stirs awake, reaching out to find your side of the bed cold and empty. He blinks groggily, thinking you might be in another room. "Y/N?" he calls softly, expecting a quick reply or the distant hum of your voice.
When no response comes, he rises slowly, the initial calm giving way to a creeping unease. He checks the adjoining bathroom, then the kitchen, and each empty room sends another pang of worry coursing through him. The house feels eerily quiet, and with each step, the calm facade he tried to maintain begins to crack.
As he makes his way through the silent hallways and finds no sign of you anywhere, panic floods through him instantly. Memories of losing his first wife surge into his mind, and the dread of facing the same heart-wrenching loss with you engulfs him like a tidal wave.
Terror grips his chest as he moves more frantically now. "Yeobo?" he calls out again, his voice slicing through the silence like a knife, but only the echo of his own voice answers him back. His heart races uncontrollably as he grabs his phone, his hands shaking with a mix of fear and urgency.
"I can't find my wife," he says, his voice quivering as he speaks to his guards. "Search the building immediately," he commands, his tone rigid and leaving no room for delay. The icy fingers of fear grip his heart, the stakes now higher than ever with the thought of losing you and the baby—his entire world teetering on the brink of uncertainty.
As he listens to the hurried replies of his guards springing into action, he pulls open the drawer beside his bed and grabs his gun, the cold weight of the metal feeling reassuring in his hand. The transformation is swift—his usual calm demeanor gives way to the steely resolve of the Front Man.
He methodically sweeps through the apartment, each shadow and creak heightening his anxiety. Has something sinister befallen you? Could Gi-hun, that determined Player 456, have somehow found you? The uncertainty gnaws at him, each tick of the clock echoing louder in the eerily quiet apartment. His thoughts race wildly, the sense of impending dread building with each passing second.
Just as his mind threatens to overwhelm him, the soft click of the door breaks the silence. He pivots sharply, raising his gun, only to freeze as you step back inside with a small stack of snacks and an apologetic smile. The weight of the moment crashes over him, the relief almost too much to bear.
"In-ho," you start, but the torrent of emotions inside him is already surging to the surface. He lowers the gun, his hands trembling.
"Where were you?" His voice is a mix of anger, relief, and lingering fear. He steps forward, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, ensuring you're really there and unharmed.
"I... I couldn’t sleep," you say softly, holding up the snacks as a peace offering. "I thought some comfort food might help. I’m sorry if I worried you."
He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, the tension in his shoulders slowly fading. He pulls you into a fierce embrace, holding you as if you might disappear if he let go. The feel of you, warm and real in his arms, does more to calm his racing heart than anything else.
"I thought..." his voice breaks, unable to finish the sentence. The memories of his first loss are still too raw, the pain too fresh.
You pull back slightly and cup his face in your hands, your eyes filled with understanding and love. "I'm here. I’m not going anywhere," you reassure him, gently stroking his cheek.
He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. When he opens them, there's a new resolve mirrored in their depths. "Next time, wake me," he pleads softly. "I can't... I won't lose you and the baby. You both mean everything to me."
You nod, your heart aching for the pain he’s been through. "I promise," you whisper, and he takes a deep breath, slowly finding his composure again.
With his arm protectively around you, he leads you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, reassuring light on your path. 
With measured steps, he walks over to the dresser and slides the gun back into the drawer, locking it firmly to ensure it’s secure. The sight of him putting the weapon away brings a greater sense of calm to both of you.
As you reach the bed, he gently guides you to sit on the edge before kneeling in front of you.
His eyes soften as he places his hands on your growing belly, the life inside a beacon of hope amidst his fears. He leans in, tenderly kissing your pregnant belly, a silent vow of protection and love to both you and the unborn child.
"We’re in this together," he murmurs, his lips lingering on your skin. You smile down at him, your hand resting on his head.
Under the covers, he keeps you close, one arm wrapped protectively around you, his hand resting gently on your stomach. The snacks are forgotten on the bedside table as sleep finally takes over, but this time, it’s a peaceful sleep, secure in the knowledge that you’re safe and by his side.
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angelseraphines · 2 months ago
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ೃ⁀➷ do you think you’d kill for me, one day? ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱
╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine
a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous!
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˚ ༘♡ the room plunged into darkness, and the air grew heavy with anticipation. bursts of violet and rose-red light erupted like fireworks, each pulse brighter and more jarring than the last. the lights burned into your retinas, blinding and relentless, painting the room in frantic, chaotic hues. shadows danced wildly across the walls, twisting and writhing as if they were living things. a smooth, mechanical voice rang out, tranquil and serene, “two.”
˚ ༘♡ you could feel your heart hammering in your chest, each beat echoing louder in your ears than the voice itself. your eyes scanned the chaos, flicking from face to face, desperate to make sense of it all. young-il, player 001, had already pieced it together. there were only fifty rooms, but one hundred and twenty-six people remained. at most, one hundred players would survive.
˚ ༘♡ suddenly, everything moved in a rapid blur. young-il, who had been quietly explaining what he believed would happen, was no longer talking. his hand shot out, gripping yours with a force that left no room for hesitation. his touch was steady, commanding, and before you could even process what was happening, he was pulling you forward. there was no time to think, no time to question.
˚ ༘♡ your feet stumbled beneath you as he dragged you through the chaos. panic gripped your chest and clawed without mercy, your breaths coming in searing, shallow bursts. ahead, a yellow door loomed like a shelter in a storm, sanctuary, a chance of survival. sweat trickled down your temple, stinging your eyes, as the two of you surged toward it. so close. you were so close.
˚ ༘♡ then the blow came.
˚ ༘♡ it was sudden, vicious, and it knocked the air from your lungs in an instant. a sharp, heavy kick to your stomach sent you sprawling to the cold, unforgiving floor. pain exploded through your abdomen, radiating outward until it felt like your entire body was on fire. you gasped, choking on the air that refused to return to your lungs. blinking through tears, you managed to look up. a tall, wiry figure stood over you, player 285. his face was set in stone, his eyes harsh and callous. you were nothing to him. just another obstacle to trample over.
˚ ༘♡ pain fogged the edges of your vision, but fear kept you moving. trembling, you tried to push yourself up, your arms weak and shaking beneath you. the countdown timer echoed in your mind like a death knell, each second slipping away faster than the last. a sinking realization clawed its way into your thoughts, you might not make it. the notion wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing until it was hard to breathe.
˚ ༘♡ young-il was at the door now, his moderate frame blocking the entrance as player 285 lunged at him, desperate to get inside. young-il didn’t waver. with a strength you hadn’t seen in him since he bludgeoned players 230 and 124, he wrenched the metal door open wider and grabbed player 285 by the collar. his grip was iron, unyielding. in one swift motion, he threw the man backward into the frenzied crowd, far from the door.
˚ ༘♡ “go!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. the authority in his tone sent a jolt through you, and your legs moved on instinct. you scrambled to your feet and stumbled into the yellow room, the door slamming shut behind you. relief should have washed over you, but it didn’t.
˚ ༘♡ the room was drenched in horror. the walls and floor were streaked with blood, its metallic scent sharp in the air. in the corner, a man, player 343, sat quivering. his eyes were wide with terror, his hands twitching uncontrollably as he stared at you and young-il.
˚ ༘♡ young-il leaned against the door, his chest rising and falling heavily. the muffled shouts and pounding fists of player 285 echoed from the other side, but they barely registered. there were three of you in the room. the rules were clear. only two could stay. someone had to leave, or none of you would walk out alive.
˚ ༘♡ “please… please, we were here first…” the man stammered, his voice weak and desperate. his hands clutched at the wall as if it could somehow shield him. he made no move to fight, his stout body rooted to the spot.
˚ ༘♡ your gaze went to the countdown timer. twelve seconds. the world seemed to shrink, the weight of the moment pressing down on you in a suffocating fog of despair. your voice broke as you turned to young-il. “i’ll go,” you whispered. “if i don’t… we’ll all die.”
˚ ༘♡ the words tasted bitter, wrong. every fiber of your being screamed against the thought of stepping outside, of waiting to be executed in cold blood. but what choice did you have? standing there, all three of you frozen in fear, would only ensure everyone’s death.
˚ ༘♡ young-il’s face remained unreadable, his dark eyes blank as he stared at the man in the corner. then, with an abruptness that made your stomach drop, he moved.
˚ ༘♡ in a single fluid motion, young-il lunged at player 343. before you could process what was happening, his arm locked around the man’s neck in a crushing grip. player 343 thrashed, his limbs flailing wildly as he clawed at young-il’s arms, his face distorted in a mask of pure terror.
˚ ༘♡ your breath caught in your throat as you watched. the man’s struggles grew weaker, his movements slowing, until they stopped entirely. the sound of his neck snapping echoed through the small room, sharp and sickening.
˚ ༘♡ yet it wasn’t solely the act itself that made your stomach churn. it was young-il’s face. his expression was not cold or cruel, it was empty. hollow. there was no anger, no remorse, not even determination. merely a terrifying absence, as though he had flicked a switch and turned off everything human inside him.
˚ ༘♡ player 343’s body slumped to the floor, lifeless. the timer hit zero. the strobing lights stopped, and the door unlatched with a hiss. outside, the metallic scraping of corpses being dragged away filled the air, accompanied by blaring gunshots.
˚ ༘♡ you turned away, bile rising in your throat. your body shaking as you pressed yourself against the wall, unable to shake the image of the man’s lifeless eyes, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.
˚ ༘♡ “are you alright?” young-il’s voice was soft now, almost tender. you flinched at the sound, your mind unable to reconcile the concern in his tone with the monstrous act you had witnessed seconds prior.
˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to nod, though the movement felt feigned. “yes… yes, forgive me.” your voice was shaky, but you tried to steady it. “i’m not used to… to seeing things so shocking.”
˚ ༘♡ young-il studied you for a moment, his melancholic eyes searching your face. “i frightened you,” he said simply, his voice flat.
˚ ༘♡ “you did what you had to do,” you murmured. “it’s not your fault. this game… it’s twisted. it forces us to do the unthinkable.” you glanced toward the door, unable to stop yourself from shuddering at the sight of masked guards dragging bodies through the blood-soaked corridors, leaving thick, smeared trails of scarlet ichor. “let’s go back.”
˚ ༘♡ young-il nodded and stepped out first, his broad shoulders slumping under an invisible weight. you followed, your legs heavy as you cast one last glance at player 343’s stiff, unnaturally contorted body.
˚ ༘♡ “you must understand,” young-il said as the two of you walked towards the exit. his voice was low, as though he were speaking more to himself than to you. “i didn’t do it for me. it wasn’t sadism. it was because you deserve to go home. you’re a good girl, i want to see you leave this place unscathed so you may see your loved ones again and lead a normal life. there are some who are too far gone for saving.”
˚ ༘♡ his words pierced the air between you, as if they had a tangible weight, sinking deep into your chest. you drew in a shaky breath, the lump in your throat rising as you fought to find your voice. “mr. young-il,” you called softly, barely above a whisper.
˚ ༘♡ he halted mid-step, the faint scrape of his shoe against the smooth, polished ground breaking the silence. slowly, he turned, his dark eyes locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze, something that burned quietly, akin to embers buried in ash.
˚ ༘♡ “i never thanked you,” you managed, the tremor in your voice betraying the emotion you tried to suppress. “you saved my life. i owe you my existence.”
˚ ༘♡ a shadow of a smile flickered across his face, fleeting and hollow, like the ghost of a feeling long forgotten. it never reached his eyes. “you owe me nothing,” he said, his voice low and rough, each syllable weighed down with exhaustion and something heavier, something unspoken. without another word, he turned away, his movements deliberate and slow.
˚ ༘♡ you stood still for a moment, your heart constricting painfully in your chest. the sight of his retreating figure, sent a ripple of unease and gratitude coursing through you.
˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to follow, each step dragging as if the weight pressing on your chest had seeped into your limbs. the silence between you was stifling, so heavy it seemed to press against your ears, drowning out everything else. you longed to speak, but the words caught somewhere deep inside, trapped and unwilling to surface. so you trailed behind him, your steps hesitant and uneven, as though tethered to him by an invisible thread.
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a/n: my second squid game fanfiction! i am so thankful for all the support and kind messages i received on my first hwang in-ho imagine! please let me know if you have any other requests! 🤍
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