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viloxity · 11 months ago

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Fluctuating Skies (Part 2 of 2) -- Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Female Reader

Part 1

Synopsis: The scenario where the Monarchs rule Earth and the Shadow Monarch finds you in the New World A/N: it's finally here! thank you so much for the support on the previous part, i hope this lives up to expectation! reblogs and comments especially motivate me so let me know your thoughts <3 enjoy!

WC: 7.5k (oops)

Waking up to soft rays of light twinkling through cracks in the walls did not feel as invigorating as it should’ve been.

You slowly raised a hand to unwrap the blankets around you, stopping as yesterday’s events flashed through your mind. How could you even describe it? His behavior was becoming progressively uncanny and the foreboding that he would only get worse stuck with you. You felt like you were drowning, suddenly, weary eyes blinking to find yourself underwater in the middle of an endless ocean. You were surrounded by blue, as if you put on filtered sunglasses and now your world was the singularity of a color that reflected the same shade of the sky. Despite your circulatory system’s losing battle as the deep blue engulfed your trachea, you felt a sense of tranquility. Under the sky’s watchful gaze and the water’s gentle hands, you were protected. No longer did you have to suffer from the wars, the loss, the pain; you were free. Free to forget, free to explore, and free to experience.

You spent your time rejoicing under the guise that trepidation was a falsehood and forgetting that nothing was permanent because time waits for no one.

By the time you discerned the forgotten unpleasantry known as angst that did not belong in your Better World, it was too late.

You did not notice the inky black tendrils that were wrapping around your free-floating form.

You tried to swim away, to fight back, but they were relentless in caging you. The shadowy cage was reminiscent of a black tomb that fixated your view behind pole-like structures and entrapped you within something inescapable.

You distantly spotted a single immensely darkened creature as it swirled at the lower depths of the sea. The unknown entity eyed you hungrily from beyond the blackened bars, swimming patiently as you began to register once more the water bursting down your esophagus and into your lungs. You grabbed the bars with all your might and pulled, realizing too late that it only hastened your submerging. You were sinking deeper, closer to the unknown and closer to a fate that you would no longer be in control of. At last—before you buried the last of your desires—you screamed, attempting to curse out that disgusting monstrosity that spectated your descent to darkness; the water engulfed you, then, happy to oblige to your acceptance of asphyxiation.

The moment the light faded, your eyes shot wide open as your hands quickly moved away from clutching your throat. You gasped for breath, uncontrollably coughing as you wildly looked around. Your eyes finally settled on the streams of light pouring from the window, the rush of blood flowing past your ears beginning to fade. You then counted each beat of your heart, the tallying of each thump dissolving your heightened senses as you drifted under the threshold.

You hadn’t realized the moment you fell back asleep.

Gradually, as each night brought misery the second your eyes closed, you found yourself struggling to get a wink of sleep. The crevices of your mind were so desolate, so dolorous, that you shuddered at the mere notion of the night blanketing you. Each dream was similar, with some darkened figure watching over you like a god spectating their worshippers—never forwardly reacting, and never intervening. At the end of every scenario, you eerily felt that the entity delighted in your cycle of despair as previously neutral movements transitioned into fervent, animated motions. If it appeared like a shadowy humanoid, they would lean down and smile as you inevitably drifted towards them. In your most recent dream, it resembled a piranha that eagerly circled you as it waited to devour your impending despondence. Every single time, you remembered the creature, its face, its actions, and your anguish.

It had been a few days since your first meeting with Jinwoo, simultaneously marking the first day you began to fear the dark.

The darkness was another mask the sky used—a different side on the same coin of the marvelous bright blue you woke to. If the bright sky told you it was a beginning, the blackened night represented an end. Every day was unique; the beginning and end were never the same, nor did they repeat. A new day was a new beginning, while a new end was a new conclusion. In a society brimming with devastation, people tended to characterize ‘the end’ in this way—as a sum of its parts. This was a consequence, survivors learned, because it meant you neglected the substantiality of an imperfect world and became the first sacrifice as a method of fidelity to the strongest in the realm. The totality of the ending was the truth, because the whole is always greater than the sum of its parts in the New World.

You stopped looking at the other side of the coin because it was never meant for you. The strongest controlled the night sky and you had an inkling that Jinwoo might be one of them; a being that can write your ending so long as it satisfied him, his face abruptly flashing through your mind was enough to make you retch.

Your head turned towards the sky, somewhat covered by the walls of your home. At the very least, the morning sky was still your oyster—every morning was a fresh start that alleviated the pain of a predetermined ending. You learned to forgive it back then because you could not dream of never relying on it again.

You rose from under your bed covers. It was no longer something you could ignore.

To a degree, you were certain that there was some positive correlation between Jinwoo’s behavior and your nightmares. The more your mind flickered back to yesterday, the more unsalvageable his company looked. He was more a threat to your survivability than someone who you could befriend like the others. If it came down to it, you would possibly have to run the most you’ve ever done in your life. You were willing, but it was a matter of if you would get the chance to in the first place.

Jinwoo’s words from yesterday vividly echoed throughout your mind—in any case, there was no avoiding him today. You moved to the closet, creaky wooden doors opening to reveal you staring at your reflection. The mirror was placed in the middle of the closet, nearly engulfed by what looked to be a storm that passed through your belongings. You patted your face, fingers kneading away knit eyebrows as you tried not to focus on weary eyes and the tight line drawn on your face. Your affliction was proof of your dejection due to your new circumstance—it was unlike you to be in such a state. You survived to live freely and now you placed yourself in a predicament that threatened your state of being.

You ignored the sensation of faint prickling that tickled the corners of your lips.

Jinwoo was unpredictable, and that was a major problem in terms of survivability.

Damn it, how could you get out?

He was slowly beginning to root himself into your life and that was terrifying. Even worse, you were never clued in to his actual intentions—by a stroke of fate he gave you the ‘honor’ of his attention, and now he was feeding you handfuls. Was it a major oversight on your part, to not pay attention to such an action? Would your careless decision during a moment of vulnerability cost you everything? It was easy to envision how your life would eventually center around his, like a satellite orbiting a planet—Jinwoo’s raw strength and unknown capabilities could be enough to bend an individual to his desires. Said individual would no longer maintain the privilege of free choice; any option that was not correct—in his eyes—was a rash decision that betrayed his wishes.

Fuck. All paths that tied in Jinwoo involved a life half-lived.

Unless you were inferring too much. Everything thus far was still speculation, other than a few abnormalities in his usual solemn behavior. It had only been a few days, and yet your mind portrayed him as a villain.

And yet…

And yet it felt like he was hiding. The feeling that he was still lurking within the shadows, just like the first day you met him. That he was not… fully there. He was faded out, but if you cared to look a little closer, you would see that he wasn’t a normal shadow.

Your antsy temperance, driven by countless near-fatal encounters, never quelled itself in the presence of Jinwoo.

Either your mentality was cracking under pressure—his pressure—or the severe amount of devils advocate you played as a paroxysm of coping.

It would not be long until your mind landed itself in the grave, by his hand or yours.

You watched the intense rich shade of red trickle down your lips and onto your chin, its boldness absorbing your attention and trail suctioning color beneath its crimson hue. Perhaps the aching of your sensory receptors was a direct consequence of the peril you put yourself in—an unconscious and remorseful action.

You could not regret—there was no time, for he controlled that too.

Reaching for a towel to wipe the ruby from your face, a flash of purple streaked from the corner of your eye. You quickly turned but all your bulging eyes made contact with was the floor.

The floor and your shadow.

Your shadow was swirling, its outline swaying against the wooden floorboards and darkness crawling as it followed your movements. Within its depths was the image of a battle; the clash of fragments of hazel scattered throughout the pools of ink. Each unconquered piece slowly succumbed to the tide because lone soldiers were weak in the face of an army. As rich brown gradually swirled into deep black, you were reminded of the arachnids; the eight-legged creature that crawled where it pleased and patiently waited for its prey to fall into its carefully crafted web. The flush colored area that unluckily landed itself behind you was now trapped in a web of gloom, an inescapable route that held no other option but to wait for its end.

Akin to how your shadow absorbed the surroundings around it—colors swirling from vivid to black—you too were mesmerized by its outlandish ferocity. The way it continued to entrench on other areas despite your lack of movement gave you the feeling it was more lively than how you remembered it.

You moved a step back. You felt your heart racing as the shadow stormed after you, quickly discarding its entrapped victims and viciously tearing apart others to get to you. Once it reached your side, the shadow began to swirl around in its new area, straying slightly farther than your outline as it dragged other pieces of hazel within its midst.

You took several steps back, fearful eyes following your shadow’s barbaric barreling as its outline shook and swirling hastened. You could make out a small groaning sound, then a wave of sighs once the shadow reached you. Your shadow’s outline and swirling lessened in intensity, resuming its invasion sequence. Near the bottom of your feet, you almost didn’t make out the tiny inky strings that connected you to the shadow. You wanted to say they resembled hands, the way there were several small strings tied to one long string, but the swirling of the ink made it hard to make out.

Even in your own home you were going crazy.

Shortly after, you quickly got dressed and rushed out the door, never once looking back at your shadow.

The trek was fast because you did not bother to stop and look around for people to hand out food to. You were too absorbed in rethinking each encounter that you did not realize the man standing outside the shed.

“Glad to see you’re back.” Jinwoo greeted, body leaning against the shed with arms crossed. He was in a spot that offered him shade from the morning sun, dressed in his normal attire of all-black from head to toe.

You caught yourself from flinching, breaking out of your dazed state and willing yourself to speak to him.

“I, um, don’t see why not,” You meekly replied, the grip on the strap of your bag getting a little tighter. “The earthquake from yesterday did scare me, though.”

“There is no need to be afraid as long as I’m here,” Jinwoo said, pushing off the shed and stopping a shy few inches away from you.

You had not fully realized it, but Jinwoo really was an intimidating character. You never saw him at full height as he would always be sitting on something at some distance away from you and shrouded by shadows. With the way your eyes were nearly shoved into a face full of chest, you were struggling to maintain your fortitude against his domineering posture and terrorizing stare. His hands in his pockets could only do so much to shrink his broad shoulders that boldly shaped his black dress shirt.

Jinwoo leaned down toward you, head slightly tilted. His gray eyes immediately collapsed your own, unable to turn away as your heart beat sporadically. Soon the chirps of birds and the swaying of grass by the wind drowned out as static filled your ears. There was only static, until you made out faint whispering that echoed by your feet—it was incomprehensible, but it was there. You could not look away to confirm or deny your paranoia—to prove you maintained a piece of sanity—but that did not matter in the face of the ferocious beast in front of you. No, what you were more scared of now was if Jinwoo could hear how fast your heart raced—whether he could read your thoughts by glimpsing through your eyes and by the amount of time he’s spent in your head. You were able to push back the trembling, but how long could you hold it for?

A voice was murmuring underneath the ocean of sound, promptly silencing the whispers that plagued your ears.

“Huh?” Your mind was still mushy after the wave of panic passed you, having forgotten who was in front of you. The ringing static faded the harder your nails dug into your palm.

“No charity work today?” Jinwoo repeated, head tilting more at his inquiry. He leaned back, the mist clouding your mind finally settling as he separated from you.

Your fingers fiddling with the bag strap and the shuffling noise it emitted reminded you of the donations you were given today.

Wait—the donations. You sucked in a breath, trying to even out your breathing. It was made a point that you would always hand out food before meeting with him, as you would offer him the last piece you had. It was a consistent act that you performed despite only knowing Jinwoo for a minimal amount of time. How was he aware, that today of all days, was the one irregularity in your schedule?

You quickly cleared your throat. “I planned on going after meeting with you.”

Jinwoo hummed, eyes flashing to the small stream of red that trickled down your palm. His prolonged glare at the crimson liquid and clenched fists was nearly enough for you to voice your concern, but what could you even say? The tension in the air wound your vocal cords like tight knots with a string and you were too scared to unweave them.

The brief flicker of a violet hue immediately stilled your fiddling. The color was as vivid and deep as you remembered, so much so that your body couldn’t help but freeze.

There was no way he didn’t notice.

For a moment, the only sound you heard was the blood rushing through your ears as neither of you spoke a word.

Then, Jinwoo smiled. “I’ll go with you.”

“Ah—wait, um—“ You stuttered out a flood of incomprehensible blabber, quickly muted by the pattering of Jinwoo’s shoes as they trailed off in the direction you just came from.

Jinwoo turned after a few steps, eyelids slightly crinkled due to the corners of his lips being upturned. The way that his eyes were glazed over with a somber shade, the lines of his lips wavering from his strange smile, and his tight, restrained posture snipped the words of rejection off the tip of your tongue.

Oddly, your attention shifted to the floor. The sun was blaring strongly at the current hour, your shadow desperately clinging underneath you seeking respite from its isolation to other shadowy entities. You watched—in a state of shock and awe—as the shadow stretched its outline farther, almost as if extending an open hand, as Jinwoo crept closer to you. His silhouette looked animated as inky black pools excitedly swirled the closer it got. It was drawn to you—desperately trying to stay close to you—as if it was a planet orbiting the sun.

The gravity that must surround you enough to pull in an entity of the likes of possibly Jupiter—did it mean you were significant, someone that finally held power?

…Even then, would that be a good thing?

The sun’s gravity was strong enough to pull in other planets to its orbit, and they would remain there for however long the sun remained. If the sun moved, the planets moved with it.

The sun was significant, so the sun was trapped.

…Could the sun ever defy its fate?

Gray eyes pierced like needles into your skin.

“Shall we?”

“Please use this to take care of yourself.”

You handed a woman a portion of your donations, watching as she carefully grasped the bread before hastily running off in the opposite direction.

You did not blame the woman since the oppressive presence behind you was beginning to give you a headache. You could say he was like a shadow that followed your movement, but that felt obvious.

In any case, he felt more like a parasite. He fed off any and all emotions you had and indulged as if it were a banquet and you were a feast—when you smiled after someone was vigorously thanking you, the atmosphere felt lighter. If you so much as frowned at someone’s words, the inky shadows that trailed his form flickered harshly.

He shared your actions, albeit more ferociously.

It was out of the question telling him to leave, so was it within the realm of possibility to tell Jinwoo to calm down?

Speak of the devil—he suddenly interrupted your thoughts.

“Would you care to enlighten me for a moment?” You perked up at Jinwoo’s words. He was smiling, albeit a bit more widely when your eyes met his.

“What are your thoughts about ‘wielding power’?”

A spontaneous question; something you were never normally asked. Sure, people ask what ability you would have if you awakened but they never asked about the concept. The wording was… off putting to say the least, but….

You pursed your lips. “Power is the gauge of potential. An individual can hold a certain level of power and thus exert that same level of authority over those without it.”

The Hunters Association and all guilds used a similar basis. Individuals had power, but what about combining power? There was a reason why the top guilds all held S-ranks and many A-ranks.

“When it comes to wielding power, I don’t think my opinion matters.”

“Well, I asked specifically for it, no?”

You shook your head. “That’s not what I mean. My opinion is that I have no opinion because it’s something I could never experience.”

Hunters? Awakening? If you had not seen the end of the world you wouldn’t have believed such nonsensical words. Your life was so awfully normal that dropping your phone on the floor was likely a weekly highlight for you.

“Wielding power… is something I’ve merely wished for. More precisely, I wish for the ability to protect.”

“The ability to protect…” Jinwoo echoed, pondering for a moment. Your eyes caught a glimpse of his eyebrow twitching, as if he had decided something. You wanted to inquire, but he looked incredibly deep in thought.

Eventually, you gathered the courage to speak.

“Jinwoo—“

“Excuse me?” A male voice spoke out from your side.

A boyish-looking male came into view and the first thing you noticed was his tattered clothing. His shoes were completely worn while his satchel was tearing apart at the seams. His clothes and face were marred with dirt and you felt your heart tug a little.

He looked exasperated.

You nodded quickly, pulling out bread and a bottle of water. You ignored the annoyed grunt from behind you.

The way the boy’s eyes lit up… it was a reminder of why you pushed so far. The loss of folks you cherished so deeply nearly tipped you over the edge. No matter how many times you begged the wind to guide you to at least a breathing sibling, or knelt down crying in front of the small cemetery that would never hold a single one of your family members—it would not bring them back. But, doing some good for others felt good. It reminded you of the days when they were still there—the small smiles plastered on grateful faces morphed into ones that resembled familiar, joyful expressions.

Familiarity was comforting in a world that was anything but.

What was not familiar, however, was the sudden warmth you felt allocating your entire body. Your wide eyes met his closed ones—he had shaky arms wrapped around you while murmuring multiple thank you’s. It was an uncommon occurrence for passerby’s to show this degree of gratitude, mostly because of fear. It took you a few seconds to realize he was hugging you, but when you did, you hugged back. Maybe it was because his hug felt like your parents were embracing you, or that he distinctly sounded like your younger cousin. Maybe it was out of pity. Nonetheless, you hugged him back and patted his shoulder.

“You’ll be okay,” You mumbled. You weren’t sure if it was to yourself or to the boy.

The boy pulled away, hesitating before saying, “Please thank the man that was with you for me.”

You raised a brow. ‘Was’? You turned around, seeking a figure that was no longer there. Your body shook a bit, hair on your arms standing. Where did he go?

You weren’t paying attention to where he fled, or whether he said anything or not. It wasn’t like him to suddenly walk out, at least, you thought so.

Maybe that was why your chest felt so light.

You waved farewell to the boy after a few more minutes of him bowing, watching him vanish among the cluster of trees. You couldn’t help but take another sweep around to make sure Jinwoo left. The numerous amount of times you’ve experienced him doing something unpredictable still did not quell the insurmountable dread racking over you.

Some time passed during your small scavenge to see where he had gone and you ultimately decided to return home at the sight of the darkening sky. The sounds of the night… on occasion there were the croaks of animals but, really, all that remained were the small insects the strong never worried about. The more you thought about it, you and the people you knew resembled those same insects. You all buzzed around as a population and prayed the predators didn’t bat an eye at the footprints left behind. The moment the noises got loud enough, the population would be wiped in an instant.

You readjusted your bag strap as you stepped over a tree root. The narrow path signaled you were getting closer to home. The familiar twisting of branches and rocks ensnared in crevices eased your spiraling mind. Leaves crunched under your foot with each step and eventually was matched by the sound of your breathing. This, too, was familiar.

You took another step. Crunch.

Then another step. Crunch.

Another step. Cr—

The crunching noise was subsided by a light splash-like sound. You took another step, not quite registering the sudden change, yet felt a sticky substance beneath your feet. You looked down, seeing splatters of a mysterious liquid littered around leaves. It looked like there was a trail, but even when you squinted your eyes you could not make out what the liquid was. You continued to walk, splatters turning into pools and your feet felt like it was moving through mud. The brisk fresh air that felt easy to breathe began to filter out as dread filled your lungs. The trees parted out around this point now, and the village was just in sight. The crimson gleamed grimly under the moonlight and you willed your shaking knees to not give out. You wanted to let out a sob but your throat tightened as the wind picked up. Leaves, some dyed with red, flew past you and all you could do was linger on the familiar flow of hair that sat atop an unmoving body surrounded by waves of blood.

You refused to move outside of the village.

The first few days, you stranded yourself inside your home. After finding the corpse, you immediately ran to the village chief and reported it. You were interrogated for a short while, but upon determining your innocence—the crime scene did not match how clean your clothes were—you were allowed to return home. The tread back did not stop you from listening to the whispers of curious crowds.

“He was stabbed a grand total of 30 times all around his body.”

“Really? I would’ve thought some sort of monster had slaughtered him, the way he was completely torn through…”

“He looks awfully young… This is truly a tragedy.”

“What caused this?”

“Does anyone know who this is?”

You shut the door, leaning your head down and bumping it harshly against the wooden door.

The familiar patch of hair covered in blood, cold amber eyes, and scarred boyish features kept you awake that night.

You did not tell the others that you had met him hours prior—had given him a portion of the donations you always carried with you. Perhaps it was so you could grieve by your lonesome, or so you wouldn’t have to face reality just yet.

You mourned the fact you didn’t even know his name.

For the first time ever, you refused to hand out donations. Instead, you helped around the village. Your guilt was eating away at you and you needed a distraction. You helped repair houses, organize food, and babysat children. Each job wore you down worse than the other, to the point where you would pass out in bed. You took nearly every job in the hopes of being kept away from… thinking.

It worked out for a while. You stopped thinking about the body, and you stopped thinking about Jinwoo.

Jinwoo. It was not difficult to put the pieces together.

He was despair incarnate—an accident waiting to happen.

It was high time you stopped fooling yourself that he would be anything less than ‘normal’.

You refused to fathom the ‘why’ and ‘how’. He was not someone you wanted to concern yourself with anymore. Each event that played out, odd occurrences, and anxiety attacks all linked to him.

To be around him… it was like reliving trauma from the day the world collapsed.

Each day away from him you continued living your past life of normalcy. You didn’t second guess actions of others, less nightmares, and you stopped paying attention to your shadow. There was a slight pull on your heart sometimes, one that resembled fear, and it motivated you go all the way for a fresh new start.

By the end of the week, you would move out. Based on the local nomads that come and go from your village, there was another shelter farther from here. It would be a long journey—not an easy feat—but you welcomed this as a new experience.

You were going to put everything behind you and live free. Your lost family, friends—maybe they would rest more easily knowing you finally stopped clinging to their memories.

You opened the closet door and looked into the mirror. Your face looked brighter and fuller. You smiled to the reflection, happy that for the first time in forever you were proud of yourself.

A heavy knock sounded at your door and you practically bounced over. It could be one of the parent’s wanting you to watch their children again; someone like May would want her daughter to get a proper goodbye.

An unfamiliar face greeted you at the door and you were taken aback by her petrified expression. Your smile dropped near instantaneously.

“T-The c-center… y-you…” The woman was quivering so much you thought she would fall.

You did not need to hear the rest of her words to start sprinting towards the village’s center.

The center had a good amount of space for larger-than-normal gatherings and meetings. Closest to the center housed the village’s chief, so any and all important duties always beelined to the center.

Certainly there was not a special meeting today, otherwise you would’ve heard about it. A surprise occasion, perhaps?

You spotted a giant cluster of people swarming the center. Roughly speaking, nearly the entire village’s population was gathered outside with even the scavengers joining the party based off the number of familiar heads you saw. The large crowd of people made you more suspicious. This was definitely not normal. You could make out numerous terrified whispers beyond the turning heads and mouths behind their hands. It was only when you got closer that you realized this was not a normal gathering.

At the edges of the crowd and covered in a thick, deep black were multiple entities. They varied in form from large bears, elves, ants, and wolves to humanoid figures covered in armor. You would’ve assumed them to be beasts if not for their color and that they were not attacking the unarmed civilians they surrounded.

A gut-wrenching feeling was pooling. All of the village was gathered, there were beasts patrolling thought to be untamable, and you specifically were reached out to. Your house was a bit out of the way—it was the one closest to the edge and furthest from the center. It would make sense why you did not hear the commotion, but it did not make sense for you to be called on out of everyone else.

In a moment you made up your mind. The beasts were busy watching over the crowd so you took quiet steps to back away. It was better to make distance in case you needed a head start—something you wish you did when the portals opened and you were too awestruck to move.

There was growling heard from a wolf as a woman attempted to leave.

You took a few more steps back. If you reached a bit farther back you could block yourself with the bushes.

In any case, the situation looked dire enough for you to debate running to another village for help. The closest one was about a day or two’s worth of walking, it was a risk but what other option did you possibly have? All the people here were in danger, yet again, you were powerless. What a bitter feeling.

You took another step only to stop at the sound of groaning behind you.

You turned, nearly falling to the floor at the sight in front of you.

The figure was tall—tall enough that you had to turn your head up to see its head. Similar to its peers, it was completely encased in an inky black. Now that you could get a closer look, you also noticed dark clouds pooling around the entity, almost like a mist-like substance was protruding from it. It confirmed that whatever these… things were, they were not normal portal creatures. Your eyes trailed slowly from its darkened plates—was that armor?—to two white orbs. Its white eyes were staring holes into you, face hidden behind an armor helmet. You watched in horror as the plume atop its head waved, metal creaking as it bent its top half forward. You were expecting hostility; perhaps the being would usher you forcefully into the crowd or treat you as if you escaped. To your surprise, the head dipped—it went low enough for the white to disappear. The right hand of the knight was placed gently against the center of its chest and it kept its head down for a few moments. Was it… bowing?

You moved to sprint but the knight’s head shot up. It narrowed its eyes in a way that said ‘don’t’. The moment you saw the heavy sheathed sword strapped to its side you stopped. You felt your eye twitch as it waved its hand in the direction of the center, motioning for you to step forward first. You could clearly see, then, the other shadowy entities staring at you and how the armored knight perfectly stood atop your shadow. You were caught in the same trap as the others, the sinking feeling in your chest unyielding.

You reluctantly made your way towards the center. Following your steps behind you was the sound of metal grating and heavy thudding against the clear plain. No matter how many times you pinched yourself, the sight remained the same: large crowd and beasts. It reminded you so vividly of back then that you couldn’t stop the trembling in your legs. As you approached the crowd, their faces reflected your shaking: uneasy and fearful. Some shadows moved to part the crowd, allowing you an easier entryway towards the center. They mimicked what the knight from before did, all bowing in their own way.

You felt everyone staring and never before did you feel so anxious.

The sudden hushes from the crowd that swiftly turned into silence allowed you to hear the booming voices in the distance.

The familiar sinking of your heart stimulated the fully formulated sensation of fear—a new-found source of dread entirely because one of the booming voices you recognized.

“…This offer is beneficial to you, is it not?” A deep voice said, sending a tremor down your spine.

“It is a negotiation, not an offer,” Another voice said, “I am uncertain of your terms so I cannot comply.”

There was a long, drawn-out sigh. You peeked from behind the shoulder of a soldier in front of you, praying you wouldn’t be noticed.

Jinwoo ran a hand through his messy dark hair, eyes practically glowering at the village chief. The leader of the community—the one who allocates and organizes everyone’s resources while ensuring safety—is known as the village chief. For the minor semblance to how past society lived, they were elected periodically by the community. You talked to him recently about the body, but… why was he talking to Jinwoo?

Wait, why was Jinwoo even here?

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I only asked for your permission out of convenience.”

“After all, the person I was waiting for is finally here.”

You cowered behind the soldier, watching as his eyes raked through the entire crowd until stopping on you.

“Isn’t that right, Y/N? Come out now.” He was beckoning you forward with his hand, index finger wagging at you as if trying to cage a scared puppy.

Jinwoo, of the attire you’ve seen him in previously, was wearing something different. Instead of slightly ragged clothes he was wearing a long black coat with silver engravings around the shoulder and wrists. He wore a clean white shirt underneath along with black pants and formal black shoes—the outfit would’ve screamed ‘money’ to you if there was such things as designer still.

He was befitting to be someone of high society, in fact.

Your eyes met with the village chief and it seemed he immediately understood the situation. He was mouthing ‘no’ at you, trying to deter you—this was enough to keep your feet planted.

You remained still. Soon enough, you felt something spike in the air, the shadows beneath his coat tail flicking wildly at your impertinence. The entities surrounding the crowd grew restless, with the shadow-being you were hiding behind shaking. Jinwoo was staring bullets into you, even behind the soldier, and the shadows were as well.

“Move.” Jinwoo flicked his wrist towards the soldier and it immediately crumbled into a dark cloudy mist. The essence then moved back towards Jinwoo’s shadow, becoming absorbed into his outline.

Petrified, you stood still. A lot of things started to click as you began to realize what Jinwoo’s true power was. The way his shadow never stood still or how your own never acted quite right… it made sense.

Now you were staring at him and he was staring at you. Jinwoo gave you a slight wave.

He smiled. “I missed you.”

You were too scared to open your mouth with how tight your throat was.

Jinwoo turned to the tall knight next to you. “Good work, Igris. Now—“

The knight nodded his head, white eyes still watching you.

“—I’d like to discuss our future.” There was a glow emitting from Jinwoo’s eyes, light shining on his violet pupils.

He held out his hand, tapping the right palm of the hand using his left index finger. “From now on, the people living here will act under me.”

What? What did he say?

“I reject!” The village chief roared. “For someone like you to show up like this…”

“Quiet.” Jinwoo held a finger to his lips, purple eyes violently flashing.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

He turned towards you. “I will protect all that live here.”

Jinwoo licked his lips. “In return, Y/N, you will be my betrothed.”

No. No, no, no, no.

No.

After all that has happened, maybe it was because of him. Just him. He single-handedly ruined the remaining good parts of your life and for what? To be some selfish bastard?

No. No way.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Jinwoo?” You shouted, holding back tears. No wonder his behavior was so goddamn psychotic—he wanted you to be his lover?

“I barely know who the hell you are, and what you’re doing right now is absurd. Just who are you?”

Jinwoo tilted his head. “Do you really not know?” He tapped a finger against his cheek.

“Have you heard of the Monarchs?”

Monarchs? Did he mean the Monarchs of Calamity?

Although you experienced the end of the world, you were unfamiliar concerning its origin. There were multiple theories that were shared with you, such as planned gate-opening or that multiple outbreaks occurred simultaneously due to probability. A leading theory was that there were beings, named Monarchs, who acted as divinity because they possessed power that rivaled gods. Even when the S-rank hunters of other countries joined forces, they were unable to be on equal footing with the Monarchs. These Monarchs, for an unbeknownst reason, released an unnatural calamity upon the world—hence the name ‘Monarchs of Calamity.’ You never pondered this theory—why would you want to reflect on the idea that a disaster was intentionally brought upon you? The fact that it was brought up means…

“…Are you a Monarch?” You asked, eyes flashing towards the darkened knight he called ‘Igris.’

“I am the Monarch of Shadows.” Jinwoo sneered at the title, the corner of his lips momentarily quirking upward as he watched despair flash over the village chief’s face.

It seemed Jinwoo did not like your own befallen expression, though.

“It’s of interest to you because that means I am also the leader of Monarchs.” You curled your right fist, squeezing your nails as hard as you could against the palm of your hand.

“In terms of protection, I am the best there is.” Jinwoo continued, waving towards his army—monstrosities that have already conquered countless civilizations within a blink of an eye.

“The people you love now… I can take care of them. All you have to do is say yes.”

You looked back towards the crowd. They were still anxious and afraid. The familiar faces you saw, the children, the families… this was cruel. If you said no, would he—

“Do you remember the conversation we had the other day, about power?” Jinwoo asked suddenly. The way his eyes were watching you so intently, that he was eagerly awaiting your responses frightened you more than anything. You saw him flick his wrists, pulling out something from within his shadow. There was a gleam of red and immediately you let out a scream for him to stop but it was far too late.

There was a loud thud next to you and you nearly vomited.

“Your wish to obtain power… I can grant it, so long as you become my Queen.”

There, lying on the ground next to you, was the unmoving body of the village chief. The one who attempted to protect this little community to the very end, who tried to shield you despite the circumstances, and stood up to a Monarch despite not wielding power himself. There was a large, red dagger driven deep into his chest. As his blood pooled out onto the floor, the screaming began. Men shouted and roared out of fear and anger, some women screamed while others covered the childrens’ eyes. The dagger currently lodged in his chest made you blink once, then twice.

You gasped suddenly, your mind flashing back to the corpse of the boy who was overly cheerful—the image of the deep slash marks, riddled with slashes that tore out skin from bone churned through your head.

“You… the boy—it was you, wasn’t it?” You choked out, reaching for the village chief.

“He overstepped, by touching what is mine,” Jinwoo hissed, expression smoldering and hair bristling. “It’s unforgivable.”

The shadows were shrieking now, trying to tame the crowd while their Monarch was simmering. He was about to burst, but you were already on the edge. You were so overwhelmed, so tired of him and whatever despair he brought with him, that you started letting go.

“You’re a monster. A cruel, unruly, disgusting monster.” You sharply emphasized every word, hoping it stabbed as deep as he did to those innocent people. “I will never agree to your dogshit proposal.”

The yelling of the crowd began turning into shattering shrieks and now everything was unraveling to be a slaughter. There were brave people who fought and those who fled. Those who were caught began to follow the village chief. The sound of constant thudding flooded your mind but all you could simply do was tearfully stare at the corpses.

It was like the end of the world all over again.

Jinwoo held a firm hand against his face, a purple eye peeking through his fingers to peer at you.

“I still have yet to understand you. Death is such an easy thing yet you act like it’s your first time witnessing it everytime…” Jinwoo softly gritted his teeth.

“However, if death is the only issue, then it’s fixable.” Jinwoo raised a hand towards the village chief, the shadowy cloud quickly enveloping the corpse.

“Arise.”

Everything happened so quickly that you were nearly convinced you had blacked out. From the corpse that remained on the now bloody floor rose a new shadowy figure. This time, it was in the very shape of the man who you saw killed just moments ago. In fact, multiple other figures emerged from unmoving bodies that sat on the ground. Each face was a face that you recognized as people you interacted with daily. They were familiar, yet not at the same time—their faces were dull, expressionless, as if they became puppets and were waiting for the master to pull the strings.

“Queen,” The village chief spoke next to you and you stepped back out of alarm. “You are the Queen.”

“Queen,” The crowd repeated in unison. “You are the Queen.”

Stop.

Queen. It was like standing in an echo chamber.

You are the Queen. Was he this heartless?

Queen. You are the Queen.

“Stop,” You whispered.

Queen. Some children were repeating it too.

You. Are. The. Queen.

“Stop it!” You screamed, holding both hands against your ears as you finally let a sob rack over your body.

You heard footsteps approaching you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted it all to stop—everything. All the pain, the suffering, the memories. You were tired. Enough fighting, enough thinking—just, please, stop.

A warmth enveloped your body and you felt a hand gently uncover one side of your ear.

“I have waited so long for you, so accept me.” Jinwoo’s breath tickled your ear and you couldn’t help but shiver.

"Just as you belong to me, I belong to you. Any item you want, I will give. Any person you dislike will vanish within an instant.”

If you want the stars in the sky, I will lay them at your feet. If you want to conquer the entire sky, it will all be yours."

“Just be mine.”

#sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin-woo x reader #sung jin woo x reader #solo leveling x reader #yandere sung jinwoo #yandere sung jinwoo x reader #Yandere sung Jin-woo x reader #Yandere solo leveling #Yandere solo leveling x reader #yandere #yandere sung Jin woo x reader #yandere x reader #Jinwoo sung x reader #yandere jinwoo sung x reader #Yandere jinwoo sung #sung jinwoo #sung jin-woo

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ryescapades-archived · 6 months ago

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*ੈ‧₊༺ “ALL HIS GUNS WERE BLAZING,”

characters: narumi gen (kn8) x gn!reader contents: sfw, jealous!narumi, hint of ex!narumi, open ending wc ~ 600

a/n: CHAT I KNOW THIS SETUP IS REPETITIVE but i just couldn't help it ... anw, short break before i continue (and try) working on my 1k event ^_^ this was supposed to be the intro piece to the anon req about nrm and lana’s serene queen but i kinda stopped halfway ..

Narumi absolutely hates feeling like this.

It’s curling in the depth of his guts, writhing and squirming like parasites feeding on its host. His chest feels tight, as if there’s an iron fist controlling the way it beats, oppressive and ruthless and cruel. It’s green, it’s mucky, it’s repulsive.

He tries his damnedest to tear his eyes away, but the sight in front of him makes it impossible to do so. It burns. His heart burns. An emissary of his own tribulation, his focus continues to fix on the ravenous gazes feasting on you, trying to steal away all your attention that was meant only for him.

It used to be, at least.

The lights reflect from the crystals on the chandelier hanging above, highlighting all the glorious velvets and diamonds in the decorated ballroom. You stand in the small crowd of tattling officers and superiors alike, an expression of ease and cordiality stuck on your stunning face.

Playing nice during formal events such as this has never been his forte. Scandalmongers and… ass kissers (as he’d like to put it) hide behind sugary smiles and honeyed praises, seeking attention only to gain benefits of their own.

They get to the very end of his nerves, and the fact that he’s more or less required to attend these events make them even worse to be at. Not to mention the various threats from Hasegawa about throwing away his games if he doesn’t at least show his face here.

Forget about the kaijus, humanity itself is in another league of monstrosity.

As one of the strongest officers around, Narumi is subjected to being the center of all the gossip and envious stares. Men and women wish they were him, some even flocking themselves around him in hopes they’d eventually get the chance to be one of those in his orbit.

He couldn’t care less about those people though.

However, when it comes to you…

Narumi’s eye twitches again when the man you’re talking to steps just a tad bit closer, thinking you won’t notice such a subtle action. The audacity of that man? And it’s not just him, either. He’s all too aware of the vultures lurking around in the hall, hushedly whispering and eyeing you like you’re a piece of meat. He gets it. He really does.

You’re gorgeous, talented, ridiculously strong in all manners of combat, and you’re his, you’re his, you’re hi—

A sudden touch on his arm stops him short, a hand running itself down his bicep like it had any business doing so. He’s then reminded of the female officer from another division that has been on his ass for the past ten minutes, looking all too friendly as she continues to prattle on about her achievements in the Defense Force; a pathetic attempt at convincing him once again to vouch for her promotion to her own captain.

He wanted to push her away, wanted to rush off to the exit of this goddamn place to go back to the comfort of his office and spend time in the virtual world, but when his sensitive irises catch the telltale sign of discomfort on your face from the foreign and filthy hand trying to snake its way around your waist, he thinks his mind had blacked out from how unconsciously his next set of actions feels.

It’s like there’s a different entity taking over him, leading him to march towards where you are. The conversation you were having with the obnoxious man is halted, and you can barely get a word out before the captain pushes the officer off you, grabbing your hand in his before he drags you away into the night...

been sitting in my wip doc for like ,, idk Months

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

#narumi gen x reader #narumi gen x you #gen narumi x reader #gen narumi x y/n #gen narumi x you #narumi x reader #narumi x you #kn8 x reader #kn8 #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no.8 x reader #divider by saradika #🥣 rye works

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ilguna · 4 months ago

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☼ mixed signals (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; it’s been years since you met Johanna, and her opinion about you has never changed. it isn’t until the night before you're supposed to be thrown into an arena, does she begin to realize her true feelings.

warnings; swearing, talks of starvation, kinda death mention, a hint at prostitution but its not explicitly said, usual hunger games stuff.

wc; 4.8k

It feels like it was only yesterday your name was being pulled out of the girls’ glass bowl for the Sixty-ninth Hunger Games. It’s almost impossible to believe it’s been six years since then.

You were freshly sixteen, and so very optimistic this reaping would be no different than the ones you attended in the past. Especially since you had just five paper slips mixed in, compared to the thousands of others.

If you knew what was to come…

It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. You can still remember every movement you made, every thought that passed through your mind, and every breath you took as you made your way to the stage.

The way you struggled to lift your feet, as if weights had been attached to your ankles, and you were being forced to drag them through the gravel. Your eyes were bugging out of your head, which had been displayed on the big screen for everyone to see. All you could do was wonder if you had done anything to deserve such a cruel fate. You hadn’t put your name in extra in return for food, even with how tempting it had been at times.

Was it just bad luck?

Unfortunately, it had to have been. Like how it was for the dozens of the poor girls and boys from your district that came before you. And while all of them tried to make it out of an arena alive, most of them failed to do so. No matter their background, or the head start of skills they honed, they eventually fell to another’s hand.

This made you terrified at what your future would look like. Either you would die within the next two weeks, and everything you had done to live would be for nothing—or you could win, and be forced to live with the monstrosity of your actions for the rest of your life.

Neither option seemed right to you, but it’s not like you had a choice anymore. You were going to participate in the President’s game, and you had to be smart in the way you did it to avoid digging yourself a deeper hole than you were already in.

The week you spent in the Capitol was easier than you thought it was going to be. From the outside, the events that take place every year seem to be taxing, when really there’s nothing to it.

It’s so simple to dress up as a character for the citizens and be wheeled around the City Circle. The only miserable part had been in the Remake Center, where they ripped off every inch of hair they deemed didn’t belong on your body.

Or the Training Center, where you felt no pressure to succeed in gaining sponsors because… well, honestly, it’s not like you had any killer skills to begin with. There was nothing to hide from your peers, just too much to learn in such a short span of time.

When your private one-on-one session with the Gamemakers came around on the third day, you spent thirty minutes trying to be resourceful by crafting items that could hypothetically help someone in an arena. A backpack, a cloth to clean water, a sleeping bag, a blanket—whatever you could with what you had at hand.

While doing this for them, you knew it would be pretty useless to show them such a skill. Not only was it likely typical of a District Eight tribute to do so, there wouldn’t be any need for it unless there were bundles of cloth lying around in the Cornucopia in the arena.

Still, you earned a pretty six for trying. You took it as it was, and accepted the fact that you wouldn’t be lasting for very long in the arena. Maybe a week, you’d be lucky if it was any more.

Which is why you decided not to put much of an effort into your interview, either. Why would it matter? You were just another accessory to the Games at that point. The Careers—and everyone else who had scored high—casted a shadow over the rest of you.

The truth is that even with all you had been doing for a week, you felt underprepared and at a disadvantage compared to everyone else. You had no hope.

However, while it initially felt like you were being punished for your actions in the past, it turned out that wasn’t the case at all. At least, looking back at the situation now, you don’t think it was.

The Sixty-ninth Hunger Games played out like a walk in the park.

Despite the fact you felt like you had been abandoned by the world, there must have been someone or something hovering over your shoulder, guiding you to the end of the Games. At times, it even felt like it took you over. Knowledge that you didn’t even know you had came out of the depths, saving your life on multiple occasions.

You were incredibly fortunate. You made it to the final few without having to do much of anything. All you did was survive in the trees, scavenging for what you needed, and hiding when night fell.

And when it was time to act, the Gamemakers made sure you did. You ended up being corralled into a fight you didn’t want to participate in, and somehow found yourself the winner of it.

Within the matter of seconds, you were announced as the winner of the Hunger Games. It was like you were standing on a stage, the lights shining down on you, presenting you to the whole world. You were their victor.

It wasn’t until you stepped off the Capitol train and you were back on District Eight soil did it finally feel like they had closed the curtains. You were no longer on display for everyone to see, and you thought that was it. You were done, forever. You were never going to be put back in that bowl again.

You weren’t supposed to be.

The rules of the Hunger Games are pretty easy to understand. First, you have no choice in the matter. Almost everyone will be put into the bowl at some point, unless there's a special circumstance and the person can’t participate. Second, you do everything your Escort tells you to do while in the Capitol, otherwise you’ll find it hard to get through the week because they’ll make your life a living hell.

Third, while you’re in the arena, don’t do anything that would make a fool of the Gamemakers. It’s non-negotiable, and you could find yourself or your loved ones in a position you can’t get out of. Further on that subject, you need to give them a show, because that’s what the whole thing is about, anyway.

Fourth, there is only one winner of the Hunger Games every year—or well, it’s supposed to be that way. This rule was broken recently by the former Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, in order to preserve the structure, but all it did was lead to an unfortunate end for him.

Fifth, you belong to the Capitol, always. While you have not experienced this one yourself, you know too many people that have fallen in the hands of President Snow and most of the elite class. And there’s nothing you can do to get out of it, unless you’re willing to sacrifice everything you love to do it.

Finally, the sixth rule, which is the most important one; you cannot be reaped for the Hunger Games twice.

And yet, for the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games, the third Quarter Quell, it was announced by President Snow that the tributes would be reaped from the existing pool of victors.

If you had told yourself six years ago that all her efforts and pain would go to waste and she would find herself being reaped to go back into an arena, you don’t think she would’ve tried as hard as she did. Or at all.

In fact, you’re pretty sure you would have done so much more. The nights you starved because your family couldn’t afford dinner for three nights straight—easily could’ve been solved with tessera. But you didn’t want to take the risk if there was even a sliver of a chance you could avoid going into the Games.

You could’ve saved yourself a lot of grief.

Instead, you’re back in the Capitol. You’re back to fake smiles and half-hearted conversations with people that are excited for such an eventful Hunger Games. As if you’re not human. As if you’re just another toy for them to play with until they get bored.

“You’re free to go.” Danika tells you, interrupting your thoughts.

She’s the newest stylist for District Eight. She was recruited a couple years after you had won your Games, the one before her had been a man. Apparently he was very successful following your victory, so he retired and opened a shop downtown to sell his clothes, or so they say.

“Anything I should watch out for?” You ask, stepping down from the pedestal she had you on.

“No, you’ll be able to move freely.” She begins to clean up the jewelry on the vanity. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Thank you.” You murmur, opening the door to escape into the hallway.

Danika’s not a fan of conversation or keeping company around for longer than she has to. She’s a recluse, and there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, you respect it more than anything. In a place like this, it must be hard to keep to yourself without someone stepping on your toes, one way or another.

As you head to the warehouse, you take some deep breaths, calming your nerves.

The idea of being in front of hundreds of Capitol citizens while wearing a ridiculous outfit is not nearly as daunting as the fact that you’re about to be surrounded by twenty-three other victors. Who all won their Games through blood, sweat and tears, while you had to do half the work and the rest was handed to you.

It makes you nervous for what this year will look like, especially considering the lineup is a killer. Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria and Brutus are the main faces of the Career pack. Finnick and Mags would be included, if it weren’t for Mags’s age.

Then there’s Wiress and Beetee, two infamous geniuses you have heard about countless times from Cecelia–your mentor. Johanna’s here, although you’re less thrilled about her because of her attitude towards people, namely you. There’s a bunch of nameless faces in-between, but you remember who Seeder is because she mentored last year for Thresh and Rue.

At the very end of the room will be two very important teenagers who have sparked a lot of controversy as of late. Katniss and Peeta were the reason why Seneca Crane got into so much trouble. If the Twelve victors had eaten the nightlock berries, there would have been no victor, which would be unheard of. So, he saved them instead, and caused a bigger issue to come to light.

And then there’s you and Woof.

When you step into the warehouse, there’s a line of chariots and horses, with a few people tending to them, getting ready for the ceremony that’ll take place soon. There’s not many victors and mentors down here just yet, besides the tributes from Seven, simply because their stylist has been doing the same outfit since she started the job. You’d bet she handed the costume to them and told them to get dressed on their own.

You play with the bracelets around your wrists as you make your way to the chariot to the left of them, where you’ll need to be. As you get closer, Blight takes notice, giving you a half-smile. You met him once or twice during your first year of mentoring, the next he was gone and replaced by an older victor who seemed a lot less friendly.

“(Y/n).” He says.

You give him a smile back, “Hey, Blight. It’s been a couple years since I’ve last seen you.”

“You’ve grown up quite a bit since then.” He nods.

“A little bit.” You agree, tucking your dress beneath you as you take a seat on the chariot. “Not enough, it seems. The mentoring job is harder than it looks.”

“Ah,” He nods, looking down at the cement floor. “You’ll get a hang of it. What you can and can’t control. It’s not as easy as it looks.”

A scoff comes from behind him, Johanna pops her hip out, appearing from behind her tribute partner. “Much harder for her, I can imagine. She doesn’t have anything going for her in the first place.”

You blink for a long moment, a forced smile on your face. “It’s nice to see you as well, Johanna. How was your vacation?”

“A lot more productive than whatever it is that you do.” Johanna looks you over. “Do you ever consider that your tributes would actually live if you quit?”

You stare at her for a long moment, not really wanting to engage with her today. She makes it difficult to keep the peace when you’d love nothing more than to show her the pent up frustration she’s caused within you. What you’d give to throw her down and strangle her until she turns red and purple.

Even if you were given the opportunity, you’d never actually go through with hurting her. You don’t hate her. In fact, she doesn’t bother you as much as she thinks she does. You’ve got some pretty tough skin, thanks to her. Anyone else listening to her insults would have probably crumbled from the inside out years ago.

You’re more disappointed by how she’s taken such an aggressive stance with you, when you feel like you’ve done nothing to deserve it. You must’ve offended her somehow the first time you met her, which was the Seventy-second Hunger Games. All you did was introduce yourself and you got snubbed. It was the quickest you’ve ever been rejected by someone in your life.

You’ve tried not to take it personally, but it really is you. With everyone else she interacts with, she’s more mellow. As if she has more respect for them for some odd reason. And with you, she manages to treat you the same way she does the Capitol staff. It’s no secret that she thinks of them as lesser beings.

The saying is to kill them with kindness, but your well is beginning to run dry after dealing with her for the past three years, now going on four.

“No, I haven’t, Johanna.” You tell her, raising your eyebrows.

“Of course not.” She looks away, taking a step back. “Cecelia was a much better mentor than you.”

Your face twists. “How would you know? You’ve never had the chance to work with her.”

Johanna’s face begins to turn a shade of red, either out of anger or embarrassment, lips pressed into a thin line while she glares at you. Blight shakes his head slightly, tired of the conversation already.

All she does is argue with people, and while you shouldn’t be engaging, you’re tired of just taking it all the time. She treats everyone as if they don’t have feelings of their own, which she could very well be hurting. But why would she ever care?

“Shut up.” She snaps at you.

“Good one.” You murmur, looking away from her to the other chariots.

You can hear the sound of her heels clicking against the ground as she walks around Blight to stand in front of you. You stare at her boots, which have been designed to resemble the base of a tree with thick roots twisting out, before you slowly look up at her.

“I’d be careful making enemies so soon.”

“Enemy.” You correct her. “Singular. It’s just you, Johanna.”

She crouches down, getting to your level as if you’re a child. “Even if that was remotely true, I wouldn’t need help to track you down in an arena.” She tells you. “You’re so gullible and soft. Don’t think for even a moment you’ll be able to hide your way out of this one, pansy. You got lucky the first time.”

You stand, jaw set, shoulders squared. She slowly stands at her full height again, which is right at your eye level, thanks to the heels Danika has you wearing. You raise your voice, “Are you threatening me?”

This catches the attention of the Peacekeepers, who turn in your direction immediately. They hesitate, not necessarily moving quite yet, gauging the situation first to see if they really need to intervene.

“Clever.” Johanna looks unamused. “I should’ve guessed you can’t fight your own battles.”

You shake your head. “You don’t want me to. So, get the fuck out of my face.”

—

If the Gamemakers previously thought for even a moment that the Capitol week would go as it normally does, it’s clear to see they don’t think that’s the case anymore. The way they reacted to the attendance on the first day in the Training Center as opposed to the third is telling on its own.

If you hadn’t been encouraged by Cecelia to go represent District Eight to the Gamemakers, you wouldn't have gone at all, like many others. Especially since Woof got the pass to stay in the apartment since he’s elderly, and moving him from one place to another takes more effort than it's worth.

Only about half of the victors showed up, most of them you already know. It appeared like it was going to be a waste of time being there if you couldn't make new connections. And it would’ve been, if it weren’t for the fact that Katniss and Peeta were there.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, residents of District Twelve. The two new fresh faces to the victor world, the reason why rule number four—only one winner per Games—had been broken. Due to a tactful last-minute suggestion by Katniss, herself.

Katniss is a skilled hunter, or well, it’s speculated that she is. From what you’ve gathered based on body language and the way she carefully phrased the way she talks about hunting, it must be incredibly illegal to hunt outside the fence. You think she mentioned in one interview the fence that surrounds Twelve is electrified, and everything she has caught has been inside.

She was very specific when she talked about it. As if she didn’t want to lie about how she survived all these years, but she didn’t want to get herself in trouble in her district and risk getting arrested.

Either way, whether she hunted inside or out of the fence, she must’ve picked up a knack for identifying plants. She was able to navigate her way through the arena well, at one point she’d even peeled bark off of a tree to gnaw on while exploring the trees, a move that you haven’t seen before.

On the final day in her Games, the Gamemakers decided that they would revoke the previous announcement of a rule change they had made a week or so prior. Which was basically if both tributes from the same district survived until the end, they would make an exception and bring them both home. In hindsight, this was a ploy by the Gamemakers to bring Katniss and Peeta together to continue to play into the star-crossed lover look.

When Katniss and Peeta realized they had been led on by the Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, they took the situation into their own hands. Or rather, Katniss remembered she had a handful of poisonous berries in her bag. At the time of watching this happen, you had no idea which berry it was.

You would later come to find out it was nightlock, a berry you also have in District Eight, way out past the fields.

Katniss made the decision that if he wouldn’t go home, then she wouldn’t either. And right before it touched their lips, Seneca panicked, and allowed them both to win, anyway. It saved her and Peeta’s life, but you can’t imagine the repercussions that came along with it.

Especially if Seneca’s punishment was death.

So, when you saw the teenagers in the Training Center, you knew you wanted to be a friend of theirs, at the very least. If they didn’t want to be your ally, it was fine with you, but you wanted them to see you as a friendly face, before and during the Games.

You didn’t approach them, you let them come to you, one at a time. They split up after Atala, the Head Trainer, had made her usual speech on the first day. While you went to go learn first aid, they had gone off to do their own thing. Before you knew it, you had Katniss and Peeta learning beside you, having light conversation, before they went off on their own.

It worked out in your favor, because yesterday morning, as you were leaving the apartment to head to the Training Center for day two, Cecelia stopped you. She said, “I don’t know what you said to those kids in District Twelve, but Haymitch wanted me to pass along their offer of being allies. It was extended to Woof, as well.”

You would say they’ve taken to you since then, but that would be a lie. They’ve been very polite, as if they’re hoping that if they’re well-mannered, they’ll be able to convince you to say yes. However, against your better wishes, you’ve been learning towards telling them no.

And it has something to do with Johanna.

“Come on, (Y/n).” Finnick has his arms crossed over his chest, he’s leaning against one of the many concrete pillars, watching you look over the knives on the table before you. “It’s important.”

“I know, you’ve told me several times.” You tell him, pressing the tip of a blade to your finger.

“And you’ve still yet to give me an answer.” Finnick tilts his head. “We have two days before the Games, we need to know if you’re with us or not.”

You let out a sigh, lowering the knife to look at him. “Finnick, I would be more than happy to join the cause, if you can guarantee she won’t be a part of it.” You point the blade at Johanna, who’s swinging an axe in the air.

Finnick follows your gaze, and doesn’t move for a long moment, as if he’s actually considering your ultimatum. Then, he looks back at you, face twisted into a puzzled look. “You don’t like Johanna?”

“Nope.” You tell him, popping the ‘p’.

“But you like everyone.” Finnick says, eyebrows still pushed together.

“I like everyone?” You repeat, a little offended. “No, Finnick, I like people that treat others with respect and kindness. Does that sound like Johanna to you?”

You stare at him, waiting for a response. Finnick shakes his head, looking down at the concrete flooring.

It’s a shame that Johanna and Finnick are such good friends, because he doesn’t have the same personality she does. With no cameras and no strangers looking in, Finnick had a completely different persona. He’s funny, he’s talkative, he’s smart. He’s much more than the holier-than-thou casanova the Capitol has made him out to be.

While Johanna—being rude is her entire personality and it’s gotten old.

“Johanna is a hypocrite.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Finnick, she likes to talk about how District One and Two are privileged and need to get off their high horse, and then went and called me a bad mentor and a pansy.” You set the knife down on the table, tilting your head at him. “Just because I don’t advertise my trauma doesn’t mean I’m any less of a victor. That final fight did numbers on me, I almost died before they even got me in the hovercraft.”

“I know.”

“Well, I’m glad.” You tell him sarcastically. “But she doesn’t seem to get it. And until I get an apology, I’m not doing anything that involves her.”

—

The final interview with Caesar is by far your least favorite activity the Capitol has you do before they send you into the arena. By the time it comes around, you’re always sick of the antics around you. Although, usually you’re a mentor looking in.

You love Cecelia, but she will not let the alliance offer go. You knew that it would be a mistake mentioning it to her as soon as she told you that she was going to ask for more details from Haymitch, since he’s the one organizing it. Now that she knows what it really means and what it’ll entail, she’s insisting for you to take the offer and push through your growing hatred for Johanna.

She seems to think you’ll regret not joining, and while that may be true, your time in the arena’s already going to be miserable. And you told her this, you even asked why would you intentionally make it worse by being around her for the duration of it? And then you made the bigger mistake of saying, “Especially since Johanna only brought herself to give you a half-assed apology after Finnick had to tell her to do so.”

It’s been a miserable couple of days.

“Final touches.” Danika tells you, pulling out a spray. “Close your eyes and suck your lips in.”

“What is it?” You ask, following her directions and holding your breath for a brief moment while she sprays a cold mist over your exposed skin.

“Glitter.” She murmurs. “Open your eyes and look in the mirror.”

When you see yourself, your breath hitches in your throat. Danika really went out of her way to make you look beautiful. It’s nothing compared to what she’s done in recent years. Maybe it has something to do with the fact this may be your last.

You run your hands over the silky dress, taking time to look over every inch of fabric that has been sewn to look like a dress that belongs to a princess. The only thing you’re missing is the crown, which you suppose you had at one point, placed on your brow by President Snow, himself.

“Thank you, Danika.” You smile, looking at her. “It really is your best work.”

“I know.” She tells you, voice soft. “I’ve been saving it for a special Hunger Games, I never thought I’d have to use it so soon.”

“Look on the bright side, if I win, you’ll be really famous.” You laugh.

She gives you a smile. “You’re free to go.”

“Thank you, again. It was nice being able to work with you, both as a mentor and as a tribute.”

“Likewise.”

You leave the dressing room, heading into the hallway. You’d be confused on where to go if you haven’t been down here a hundred times. It all looks the same in the Remake Center, with the white brick walls and the concrete floor. There are no signs on the wall to direct you where to go.

Since you know this place like the back of your hand, you turn to the right, and follow the straight hallway until it ends. There, you turn left, and find the gathering of colorful victors on the other side.

Finnick spots you right away, and standing beside him is Johanna. There’s a brief exchange between the two of them before Johanna hikes up the bottom of her gold dress and begins to come in your direction, determined.

You can’t help the irritated sigh that escapes you, you come to a stop completely, letting her come to you.

“What is it?” You ask when she comes within earshot.

“(Y/n), I’m sorry.”

“So?” You ask, watching her face drop. “Johanna, what do you think an apology is going to do when you’ve decided to torment and threaten me repeatedly?”

She shakes her head, raising her shoulders to shrug but doesn’t drop them quite yet, “I’m going to drop out of the alliance. You’ll be safer with them than you’ll be by yourself.”

Your face scrunches, “Why do you care if I’m safe or not? I can handle myself.”

“I know you can. I just…” She clenches her teeth, sighing through them. “I’m sorry, I never meant to go that far. Find Finnick in the arena, he’ll take care of you…” She trails off, turning around to leave.

While she walks away, you swear you can hear her murmur under her breath, “For me.”

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lu-community-write-a-thon · 3 months ago

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April LU Write-a-Thon Round Up: 38,866 Words in One Day!

This April 1st, our regular LU Community Write A Thon (in which 85 players came together to write as many productive words as possible within 24 hours) was unexpectedly overtaken by Dink! Teams were created, the admin team was overthrown, and participants were given two choices — fight for good and Link with a positive wordcount, or turn to evil and help Dink (and Shadow) defeat him with a negative word count. We are pleased to announce that Link overcame in the end, but it was a close fight, and we can’t wait to host something like this again.

Credit to Mina and her wonderful team of artists for the spreadsheet and statistics (shown below). Superlatives were self assigned. Thank you so much to the mods for making this event possible, and to everyone for coming!

Winner’s Circle (Top 5 Most Wordiest)

On Team Link at 16,226 words, despite being a “Badly Behaved Radiator Prisoner” chained in the basement, “Writer of all Time” goes to @not-freyja!

On Team Dink at -14,708 words, second place goes to @glowingmin. Amazing job!

On Team Dink at -13,156 words, third place goes to @labyrinthdancer, as well as the title “Will Make You Cry!”

On Team Link at 10,201 words, fourth place goes to @marsnoodlesoup. Good work!

On Team Dink at -9,454 words, fifth place goes to @batrogers! Also earning “Secret Demise” for “turning people to the dark side.”

Clubs

This month, only two clubs were available: good and evil, courage and power, or as we called it, Team Link and Team Dink. Participants were allowed to choose their team, then went head to head in the battle to get the word count above or below zero. The team roster, and the amount of words each team got as a whole, are detailed below.

Link Club (142,634 words)

Those that chose to fight for good.

@a-manicured-lawn got “Mowed” and is now “Bald” this month, according to multiple anonymous submissions. Good luck with that, Lawn.

“Cheerleader” goes to @bluevaractyl.

@fithesworddweller was a “Night Owl” that “Sillied Too Close to the Sun.”

@gurlgallade got “Creator of HYAHHH!” for convincing Link to repeat his famous catchphrase!

“Mildly Better Behaved Radiator Prisoner” was @hotcheetohatredwastaken. Hello everyone I have escaped, however my top hat is gone forever. I mourn it.

@hyrulescarlet got “23 is number 1.” This is incomprehensible to us, but hopefully it means something to you.

“Captain of the Stitch and Bitch” goes to @imperialkatwala!

@lennsart “Caught the Bus!” We’re all so happy for you.

“The Fierce Deity, Actually” was @musical-chan unanimously. “Breadwinner” goes to @nancyheart11 for her lovely zucchini bread. @pepperpuppy417 earned “Cult Leader.”

“Actual Angel” was @seatrisa. Also noted for giving HotCheetoHatred many hats (thank you)

@servinny was “The Hero of Locking In.” Good work, soldier.

“Evil Twin,” to both nancy and gia, goes to @tashacee. Does that make you all triplets?

“Stressed out Bunny Mom” goes to @toyouhellotoyouhowareyou!

@winterbird160 is “Tried Something New.” Amazing job, and thank you for joining us!

And finally, “The Most Well behaved Radiator Prisoner” goes to @winterfen.

Additionally: @aeghina, @amayis-bigtower, @confuzzledment, @echoing--stars, @emtypaintbottle @frostedshadow, @hytiaa, @ilichilink, @lawyernovelist, @lemoncatssss, @linkiscool333, @marsnoodlesoup (winner’s circle), @mmelete, @not-freyja (winner’s circle), @pelicanpig, @poposusz, @rebornofstars, @respheal, rivernight (not on tumblr), @silverne-nonsense, @the-au-collector, @thejolteonmastertj, @twists-and-turns and @weavingstarlight

Dink Club (103,768 words)

Those that chose to fight for evil.

“Dink’s Silliest Soldier” goes to @bittirsweeter @cinis0 was “The Overlord's (mostly) loyal Knight.”

@gayferret420 earned “Spouse of My Dreams.”

@gia-d was, and always is, “Fishbun Fiend” for creating… that monstrosity. “The Overlord” goes to, obviously, @lunaopus for running the show last month.

@maddrumsticks2 “Gave Someone A Really Cool Sword” and they appreciated it.

“Dark Nyastri” goes to @nyastri.

@playingforward was “so so so appreciated” for the part they played this month

“Quiet Club Devotee” goes to @silvrash-797.

@sksninja earned “The Quietest” yet still very appreciated Fierce Deity fan.

“Carl’s Favorite <3” goes to @somanyfanficssolittletime for

“Word Smith” goes to @somer-writes.

“Traitor!” unanimously goes to @starwolfie for switching teams from good to evil.

“SPEEDRUNNER” goes to @vivalaplutothedashund for guessing the event’s Bit in 8 minutes.

@whatvioletdoes-blog is “HYAHH!!” for obvious reasons.

@zarvasace, as always, is “Spreadsheet Goddess.”

Additionally: @artsyanonymity, @druidbottles, @glowingmin (winner’s circle), @harmonysixx, @kilgoreontralfamadore, @labyrinthdancer (winner’s circle), @life-in-winter, @nopenottodaysatan, @savimatteo2810, @sapphicseasapphire, @starlight-eclipsed, @straight-outta-hobbiton, @syan-id, sy__y_02518 (not on tumblr), @tassledown (winner’s circle), @undertheopensky, @writing-oof, and @woahtherebuckerino

Bingo

In this game, participants were able to fill out their squares for tasks including sharing a snippet, writing a comment, and “touching grass.” See the full panel, as well as who got bingos, below!

Our first bingo line and first full bingo were achieved by @cinis0!

Our first two lines were achieved by @labyrinthdancer

Cheeto’s infamous name was found by @noorahqar.

And the bit for the month (deleted by Dink once he took over the bingo) was found by @vivalaplutothedachshund! They also got bingo, congratulations!

Additional people who achieved bingo were: @artsyanonymity, @frostedshadow, @kilgoreontralfamadore, @maddrumsticks2, @thejolteonmastertj, and @whatvioletdoes-blog

Ending Notes

Thank you all for coming this month! If you find any typos or mistakes in this post—please feel free to contact @hotcheetohatredwastaken with your concerns here on tumblr or on discord!

Huge shoutout to the mod team (@not-freyja @hotcheetohatredwastaken @a-manicured-lawn @tashacee @winterfen @weavingstarlight @gia-d @zarvasace @lunaopus @hytiaa @shadedheart138, @whatvioletdoes-blog, @druidbottles, @cinis0 and @playingforward) for making this event possible!

The May event will be held May 1st in CEST with the theme of Time and Termina! Can’t wait to see you all there!

#lu write a thon #mod appreciation #announcement #superlatives #april 2025

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

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Mistle-hoe

Warnings: noncon and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: You take on a job at the holidays to get some extra money, but you get way more than that.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Day Thirty-One of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - how is the mistletoe following you around?

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

‘Hey, where u at?’

You sigh at the text message and type a flurried response before you tuck your phone in your back pocket. ‘Work’. Of course, Alicia is so self-involved, she can’t remember the one thing you told her a dozen times.

Sorry, can’t make the New Year’s Eve shindig, I need the money.

“These shirts are... scratchy,” Paulina distracts you from your irritation, sparking a new agitation just beneath your skin. You look down at the attire and shrug. “But fancy.”

You look down at the sparkly monstrosity. Silver isn’t really your colour. For a price, it can be. That night, you’ll be making double overtime and a tip. It’s more than worth skipping one of Alicia’s ridiculous drunken spectacles.

“A little,” you adjust the trap. The rest of your outfit is standard; black pants, black shoes, heeled just as the job description specified. You prefer your flats with the inserts but you can bear a bit of arch pain for the check at the end of the night. Rather, year.

“Must be quite the event,” you comment as you take a loaded tray; lobster, shrimp, mussels. The typical fair would be macaroni and cheese bites or pigs in a blanket. Tonight, is a fine affair.

“CEOs,” Krista comes up on your other side. “So I hear. Bunch of rich old men. Just make sure you’re generous with the wine. You’ll get a bigger tip.”

“Huh, right,” you lift the heavy tray and balance it expertly. “It might even cut short the night.”

“Looking at some of these guys, you’re probably right,” Paulina snickers. “I’m seeing a lot of silver, not just these things.” She pinches a sequin on her shirt. “Ugh, the liner on this is awful.”

You agree. You could throw the tray of appetizers and scratch your own skin off. You’ve dealt with worse. It’s part of the job. Banquets, work lunches, even weddings. Serving isn’t as glamourous as those melodramatic reality shows might suggest.

You carry the tray through the curtain and start your rounds. It is a rather stuffy gathering. Black tie and all. As you silently offer your fare, acting as the perfect conveyor of gluttony, you notice a peculiar detail. Among all the tailored jackets, silk ties, and quaffed haircuts, there are no women. Not aside from you and the other servers.

It might just be that it’s a boys’ club. That good old glass ceiling is thicker than you expect. Still, these things are rarely very lively without a female element. That’s not really your concern. You’re not the event planner, you’re just a walking table.

“That shrimp?” A voice calls over. You turn as a man beckons you closer with his glass.

You approach him as he turns with interest to the tray. He keeps one hand in his jacket pocket as you present the tray with indifference. He sports a rather bristly mustache and tidy haircut. It’s a choice. With money like his, style is expendable.

“Oh, would you look at this,” he brings his hand out of his pocket and raises it high above the tray, “what do ya know?”

You lock down a stoic expression and peer up at the cluster in his hand. Seriously? Your uncle used to pull that trick on your aunts. It was always kind of gross.

“So uh... looks like we got caught, huh,” the man snickers.

You look at him, horrified. He can’t be serious. Yet, if he’s a rich as they say, you expect that boundaries are nothing but a paywall to him.

“You know it’s bad luck to break tradition,” he wiggles the mistletoe over you. “Don’t wanna start the new year off on a sour note, toots.”

You tilt your head. You’re actually speechless. Not just your usual deferential silence, you really don’t know how to response.

He presses his knuckles against the tray with his other hand, still gripping his glass, and steps closer. Your lashes flick in shock and your turn your head at the last moment as he puckers so he gets your cheek. His lips are wet with alcohol. Smells like gin.

“Mm, downer,” he pulls back, “I'll get the lips next time.”

He winks and retracts his arm, tucking away the mistletoe. He scoops up one of the skewers of shrimp and struts off without another word. God, that was slimy. You bend your head and wipe your cheek on your shoulder.

You should warn the others. Avoid the one with the pornstache. Ugh. Why do men do this? Just think off the money.

As you turn, Paulina’s tinkling giggle draws your attention. A man offers her a drink from his glass. You’re disappointed to see her accept. That’s a firing offence in most jobs. Not only that, it sets a bad precedence. These men don’t seem to have much restraint as it is.

You crawl through, putting the tray out to reach hands. The air is cool as it speckles over your bare arms. You sidle around as you carry only scraps and return to curtained off space by the kitchen window. You trade your tray for a smaller one set with pre-mixed martinis.

Another lap. The time sifts by slowly. You’re definitely earning the double overtime. Two white-haired men ogle you as they accept a martini. One sucks the olives off the toothpick as he leers. You keep a tight-lipped smile and move on.

“Ah, don’t mind if I do,” that same timbre draws you around to face the mustachioed man. He sets his empty glass on the tray and takes one of the stemmed martinis, “you like gin, baby face?”

“Sir,” you neither confirm or deny. He slurps noisily and rocks on his feet.

You don’t have the space to angle around him. He seems to know it as he widens his stance and corners you further. You nearly groan as you sense his arm rising once more. No!

The mistletoe jingles over your head, a small bell among the leaves. You stare at him with open concern. You’re helpless with your armful of drinks.

“Ah, come on, don’t be shy,” he shifts closer, leaning in as he turns his cheek to you, “just a little one, right here.”

You stare at his cheek. You just want this to be over with. Then you’ll be more vigilant and avoid him like the plague. You go to peck his cheekbone and he quickly snaps his head around and presses his lips to yours. You gasp and recoil, struggling not to spill the martinis as they slosh dangerously.

He cackles and drains the martini. “Cute, I like it,” he wiggles the mistletoe again. “Hard to get, huh?”

You back up and turn. Humiliated. What the hell?

You glance around. Paulina’s sitting across to men’s laps as they feed her strawberries, one stroking her hip as the other keeps a hand on your thigh. Holy shit. This is getting strange.

Krista is against the wall with another man, gray and balding. He whispers in her ear as she giggles and rubs his chest. Are you the only one working around here?

You hurry behind the curtain and put the tray down. Where is Doris? This is her event. She should be keeping an eye on this. These men are animals.

You peek through the curtain, scouring the room for her. You turn and go into the kitchen. It’s a frantic nest of chaos but she’s not there. Shit. You really don’t want to walk out, you need the money badly, but this is too much. You’re a server, not... what these men want you to do.

“Oops,” the drawl makes you shudder as you walk directly into another body. The snicker that follows makes your skin crawl. It’s him. Again. “Think I’m lost, honey bee.”

You look up at him and purse your lips. This is too much. This man is gross.

“You can’t be back here--”

“Baby, just a kiss,” he smirks.

You stare at him, waiting for him to lift that stupid mistletoe. He doesn’t. You frown.

“It’s caught,” he looks down and tilts his pelvis. The leaves are clips to his belt buckle, “would you look at that?”

You take a step back as your nose flares. “Alright, sir, that’s inappropriate--”

“Shhh,” he hushes you as he gets closer. “Go on, earn it, baby.”

“Huh?” You grimace.

“You think we’re paying top dollar for gin and fish. Go on and give it a kiss,” he grabs his belt and jingles the bell. “I’ll put an extra grand on your tip if you put one on mine.”

You cringe and step back. He grabs your arm and you cry out. You bring your other hand up to shove his chest.

“Hey, I’m not—I'm not prostitute, you weirdo,” you snarl as you wrestle with him.

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll go for an under the table favour,” he growls.

“Get off--” You struggle with him, fighting his strength as he keeps one hand on your wrist and the other snakes around your waist. You raise your voice as you snarl. “Dude, fuck off of me.”

The door to the kitchen swings open and you look over desperately. Thank god. You push against the man as you send Doris a pleading look.

“Hey, this guy won’t-- leave me--”

“Keep it down, sweetheart,” she tuts. “You’re going to ruin the party.” She looks at the man, “Mr. Hansen, have you found everything to your liking?”

“Oh, sure,” the man replies brightly, “I don’t mind working for it.”

You hit his chest with your fist and try to stomp his foot, “Doris! You can’t--”

She struts away, disappearing beyond the curtain. You whine as the man squeezes you to him and you writhe. What the fuck?

“Don’t worry, baby,” he nuzzles your temple as your squirm, his mustache tickling your hairline, “I’ll give you a special kiss too.” His hand slips down to your ass and he gropes until you squeal. “Feel like you need that kitty eaten good.”

“You’re.... disgusting,” you sneer as you wriggle in his grasp.

“Oh, you’re about to find out how right you are,” he snickers and pushes his crotch against you. “One fucking lick at a time.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #december daze #navy and roo's sleepover #the gray man

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demigod-of-the-agni · 1 month ago

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(from a tannerfishies live) this set up is. uh. hmm. it's giving kindergarten movie day

so maybe monstrosity DID get shown at the event but it was just on a ridiculously small screen?? maybe it was actually a qna or behind-the-scenes kind of presentation?? ehh.... i'm still miffed however, they quite literally put the words 'screened' in the schedule so to not show at least one episode is appalling (i say this like i was even in chicago, let alone in the us)

it's probably night time in chicago so many people won't be commenting/leaking anything on the premiere until even later or tomorrow,,,, keep your eyes and ears open for that

#me personally i would just eat all the leaks. i literally don't care. i'm going to rewatch the hell out of monstrosity #i get an entree (leaks) and then the full course meal (hq on youtube/wherever)#i have to STOP and get my tweaking out under control i have exams in THREE DAYS and ofc monstrosity decides to come out then......#ninjago monstrosity #ninjago legends monstrosity #ninjago monstrosity spoilers #ninjago #ninjergoo #<- idk block all these tags ok #agnirambles

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sweetvoidstuff · 1 year ago

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Soulbound II Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Written for @neohumanmonster Valentine's Event

Tropes: Soulmate Marks

Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Summary: You are on a quest to find your soulmate, Cha Hyun Su, amidst the chaos of monstrous transformations it leads to an unexpected alliance and a bond that defies the darkness consuming the world.

Potential trigger warnings: Themes of apocalypse, monstrous transformations, loss of loved ones, grief, existential despair, and emotional turmoil.

Masterlist

~~~~~

In a world that is at its last leg, where humanity teetered on the brink of extinction due to a mysterious affliction that turned individuals into monstrous beings fueled by their strongest desires, you embarked on a journey to find your soulmate, someone called Cha Hyun Su. It was a quest born from the innocent discovery of his name etched on your wrist on your 14th birthday, that happens to everybody. A revelation that ignited a desire to learn the foreign language on your skin and seek him out once you were of age.

Years later, as you finally set foot in the distant land where you hoped your soulmate resided, the world around you plunged into madness. Humans began transforming into grotesque creatures, their desires mutating them beyond recognition and manifested in grotesque transformations, twisting individuals into monstrous beings. It hadn't been two weeks since your arrival when the first cases of monstrous transformation began to surface. Yet, your determination to find Hyun Su remained unwavering, even as the whispers of transformation echoed in your own soul.

Despite experiencing symptoms of transformation yourself, your determination to find your soulmate eclipsed the monstrous urges clawing at your soul. You became a half-monster, straddling the line between humanity and monstrosity as you navigated the perilous landscape in search of your Soulmate. Your own voice mocking your wish to find your soulmate at every stepp on your journey, but you were determined. You wouldn’t let yourself turn, wouldn’t die in a foreign country, not till you saw him. You hadn’t put yourself throw all this hardship for your other half to simply take the easy way out. But her laughter, that he might have, that all your sacrifice are in vain got to you.

Amidst the desolation, you encountered a lone survivor, a man who had lost his own soulmate to the darkness consuming the world. His tale weighed heavy on your heart, threatening to extinguish the flicker of hope that burned within you. But you pressed on, driven by the promise of love and companionship.

Days turned into nights, and the lines between friend and foe blurred in the merciless wilderness. You formed an unlikely alliance with the lone survivor, finding solace in each other's company as you shared stories of loss and longing. Together, you braved the dangers lurking around every corner, clinging to the hope that your soulmate awaited you somewhere in the chaos.

Returning to your makeshift camp one evening, you witnessed a heartbreaking scene unfold before your eyes. A girl, her face contorted with fear, pushed away your companion. All you could do was to watch helplessly as he succumbed to the monstrous transformation within seconds.

The night air was thick with tension as you stood, tears streaking down your cheeks, confronted by the reality of your friend's transformation. His once-human form twisted and contorted, consumed by the darkness that now ruled the world. Anguish and rage warred within you as you struggled to comprehend the cruelty of fate.

The girl responsible for his transformation stood before you, her expression a mix of fear and defiance. But your grief drowned out any semblance of reason, leaving only a burning desire for retribution. You moved towards her, fueled by a primal need to lash out at the injustice that had stolen your friend from you.

But before you could act, a figure emerged from the shadows, his presence commanding attention. His voice cut through the chaos like a knife, halting your advance with a single word: "Enough."

You turned towards him, your anger still smoldering beneath the surface. "Enough?" you spat, your voice thick with emotion. "Look at him! She turned him! He was a person! He was my friend."

Tears continued to flow unabated as you struggled to articulate the depth of your sorrow. The weight of loss threatened to crush you, but you refused to yield to despair. You had come too far, fought too hard to let tragedy define you.

The boy before you watched, his expression a mirror of your own heartache. His eyes burned with a fierce intensity, as if trying to convey a message that words alone could not express. And then, almost hesitantly, he spoke.

"I am sorry," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Your anger flared anew at his apology, the injustice of it all too much to bear.

„Sorry doesn’t really cut it. He…“ fighting the tears, you continued. „He was fighting. It was hard, but he was holding on, trying. Even after his soulmate turned. Now he is just, flesh trapped by his desire. Just keep her away from me!“ you said. But as you wiped away your tears, you felt a spark of recognition deep within your soul but brushing it away, angryly starting to pack your stuff. The boys eyes burned at your movement, his expression mirroring the anguish in your heart. Watching every muscle you moved. With a trembling voice, he quietly called out your name, and you looked up, shock written across your face. The name etched on your skin suddenly felt heavier, more significant than ever before.

You looked up at him, your gaze locking with his own. His eyes held a mixture of hope and fear, as if uncertain of what your reaction would be. And then, with a voice filled with equal parts disbelief and longing, you spoke his name.

"Cha Hyun Su?"

He nodded slowly, his expression one of quiet acceptance. It was him. Your soulmate. The realization washed over you like a wave, sweeping away the doubts and fears that had plagued you for so long.

Hyun Su’s heart clenched at the sight of your tears, the weight of your journey etched in every drop that fell from your eyes. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out hesitantly, as if afraid you might vanish before his eyes. But you remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear your gaze away from him.

People had made fun of the foreign name on his arm. A lazy foreigner he would never even have the chance to meet they said. But now you were here bevor him, at practically the end of the world, alive and well and speaking his language. “I didn’t know you were still alive. Or even this close to me,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with equal parts disbelief and relief.

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself as a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm you. “You have no idea what hell I walked through to find you,” you admitted, your voice trembling with raw emotion.

But despite the tears staining your cheeks, there was a glimmer of hope in your eyes, a sense of peace that came with finally finding your soulmate amidst the chaos.

Hyun Su reached out tentatively, his hand trembling as it hovered in the air between you. His gaze flickered with uncertainty, his mind filled with doubts and fears about what you might think of him now that his true nature was revealed.

"I... I don't know if I'm safe to be around," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm... I'm not fully human anymore."

Your heart ached at the pain and insecurity reflected in his eyes. Gently, you took his hand in yours, offering him a reassuring smile.

"It doesn't matter," you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. "Nowhere is safe anymore, and you are my soulmate. I just want to finally get to know you. I want to find out myself who you are."

His breath caught in his throat at your words, the weight of your acceptance washing over him like a soothing balm. Slowly, hesitantly, he closed the distance between you, his hand enveloping yours in a gentle embrace.

"You... you're not afraid of me?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You shook your head, your gaze unwavering as you met his eyes.

"No," you replied firmly. "I'm not afraid. In fact, I've been trying to hold onto my humanity, to stay true to myself, all because I wanted to meet you, my soulmate."

A flicker of emotion passed across his features, a mixture of awe and gratitude.

"You... you are like me?" he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Yes," you said, squeezing his hand gently. "And now that we've found each other, nothing else matters."

His doubts began to melt away in the warmth of your acceptance, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and belonging. With a sense of determination burning in his heart, he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours.

"I'm here now," he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath against your skin. "And I'm not letting you go."

Your heart swelled with love and gratitude as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. Together, you knew you could face whatever challenges lay ahead, united by a bond that transcended the darkness consuming the world. In each other's embrace, you found solace and strength, ready to take on whatever the future held.

#cha hyun su x reader #sweet home netflix #sweet home x reader #cha hyun soo #cha hyun soo x reader #cha hyunsu #sweet home #sweet home imagines #kdrama #song kang #cha hyun su #cha hyunsoo #sweet home 2 #hyun su #hyun soo #one shot

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years ago

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Kinktober 2023, Day 6

Take The Time

Summary: Every morning you wake up from your worst night. The entire night relentlessly being chased. And each night your will to outrun him was waning. He didn’t seem so bad. And every morning you missed Bucky even more. He had been gone for so long, with no thought of returning. So why were you running from your nightmare? And why were you so so exhausted? When he touched you, why could you still feel it? And why was the rose he gave you now in your bed?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, implied non con (sleeping), chasing, stalking/obsession, kidnapping, brief bondage, voyeurism, unprotected sex, PIV sex, manhandling, taunting, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.7K

Series Masterlist

Moodboard Event

You jolt up in your bed. Chest heaving as you take short shallow breaths. Looking around to find you’ve managed to be in your bed. The recurring dream — nightmare leaves you feeling disoriented in the morning. Everything seems so real. And you wake up breathless.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you take count of your body. Things are sore. Like you had really been running. Had been chased all night by some masked man. You were running less and less. Slowing down because you wanted to see his face. You couldn’t tell if he was chasing you because he wanted to kill you or if he just wanted you.

He didn’t seem angry as he chased you. He seemed…worried. He was trying to warn you of something, but what? The only thing you cared about was finding where your boyfriend has been.

Picking up your phone, you make the same call as you do every morning. His best friend’s voice groans as he answers, “We haven’t heard from him. I told you I would let you know if there are any leads.”

“Steve, I don’t think he’s that far away,” your voice trails off as you look at your bedside table. A single pink rose and no thorns. There was only one person who ever did that for you.

Steve repeats your name several times before you realize he had been speaking, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Could you please answer me?”

“Steve, there’s…I have a pink rose, and the thorns have been pulled off.”

“I’m on my way,” Steve was well aware of Bucky’s favorite thing to leave behind for you. It was always a pink rose. Red was cliche, and harsh. Pink was your color. Delicate, feminine, sweet. And every time he painstakingly pulled off each of the thorns. No one would ever hurt you while he was around. Not even an inanimate object or a plant.

You walk into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror, you look like shit. A few weeks without sleeping would do that to you. You wanted to tell Steve not to come by. What good would it do? If it was Bucky that left that rose behind, he didn’t want to be seen. If it was someone else, Bucky no longer cares for your safety. Your will in the real world was dwindling just as much as your dream self. You didn’t want to chase for him anymore. You just wanted to know he was okay.

——

You turn to look over your shoulder, and the masked man is gaining on you. A few more strides, and he would be close enough to capture you. You pump your arms harder, and run just a bit faster. It is exhilarating to know that the monstrosity of a man was putting up such a fight because of you.

Reaching out his hand, you swerve out of the way before he actually touches you. Giggling at the fact that he missed. He growls under his mask, and it causes you to slow enough that he pulls you into his body with body arms.

“You’re not fighting,” his voice is deep on your neck, and your body goes limp. You shake your head no because you didn’t care. The thrill was now gone, and replaced with something more. Lust.

There is something in his voice that was oddly familiar, and your body craved it more than you did. “Mmm,” he sniffs up your neck as his hands roam over your body. Dipping lower, until his hands wrap around your thighs. Jerking them apart, and his hands fully explore between your legs.

“Heaven,” he moans, and you lean your head back on his shoulder. This shouldn’t be as comforting as it is, but you’re prepared to let him have you. It was only a dream after all.

He palms you over your panties, because of course you’re just running around in Bucky’s shirt and panties just like you went to sleep. Letting you get good and comfortable in his embrace before slipping off his glove. His nimble fingers move under the elastic of your panties, and you moan when he enters three fingers into your body.

Giving you no time to adjust before his hand barrels into you. You have to bite onto his neck the harder he pushes. His moans and grunts add to your pleasure.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine,” ringing in your ear.

——

Your eyes burst open, and you take a haggard breath. A deep soreness in your core. Your face has been planted in your pillow, and now you struggle to get up. How tense were you in your sleep to cause this much tenderness?

You whimper, twisting your body over, and there lies another rose. This time with a glove. Not just any glove. His. You aren’t dreaming. And you want him. But he’s not Bucky.

You cover your face with your hands allowing the tears you have held in for too long pour out. Rivers of saline drift down your face when Steve rushes to your side, “What is going on?”

“You’ve been here?”

“All night,” he looks to the table, and grits his teeth, “Son of a bitch. Where did that come from?”

“H-h-he had to have left it, but who is he? Steve!” You scream as he storms off. “Steve!” He doesn’t turn back to look at you. “Who is he?”

“I think it’s Bucky,” you shake your head no, but he doesn’t see. “The rose. The glove. I think we found him, but not before he found you,” he spins around to look at you. Covering your face with his hand when everything fades to black.

——

Groggily you open up your eyes, and try to move. Stuck. This isn’t a dream. This shouldn’t be a reality. Roses. Gloves. Bucky. Masked man. Steve. Tied up, and stretched out. What was happening?

There was no way to get out of your predicament. The cuffs on your arms and legs are tight. Keeping you wide and spread for whoever was coming in here. The good thing is you have clothes. For now.

This is so stupid. Steve did this. There is a weird recurring dream, and Bucky is still missing. But Steve said…Bucky found you. Lights turn on into your hellhole of a room and your eyes clench close.

The person in the room inhales deeply before your bed dips down with your weight, and you peek your eyes open, “Steve?”

“You know, you have caused a lot of problems for us,” he begins. His hand taps you on your leg, and you pull it back. Hearing a low rumble outside of the door.

“Us?”

“His mind is just too powerful. Your stupid fucking rose alerted me of just why he can’t complete a damn mission because he keep going to see your pathetic self,” Steve’s hand slams on the bed, and a feral scream echoes into the hall.

“Ahh, shut up! I am not talking to you!” He screams, standing up to open the door, pulling in the masked man, and you retreat away. Being tied up was the moving difficult. “See, she’s not hurt,” the man turns and glares at Steve, pointing a finger at your restraints. “She’ll run away.”

The man shakes his head no, turning to look at you with the softest of eyes, and you know who he is instantly. “What did you do to him?” You pout, and Bucky tries to step towards you

“He’s a weapon,” Steve shrugs his arms. “But you — you invade his mind so much that he can’t even be that. And it wasn’t until he left that fucking pink rose for you that I realized where he was going when he wasn’t on a leash. My god, I should have known. You have poisoned him from the beginning. But I am giving the two of you a gift. I am allowing him to sleep in here with you when his brain isn’t being turned into mush. And when he finally forgets, we’ll dispose of you.”

Bucky growls, pushing Steve up against the wall. His forearm presses into his neck, but Steve laughs maniacally. “I can make you watch as we destroy her. Loosen your grip,” Bucky backs away immediately, keeping a protective stance around you.

“Sweetheart, if I let your precious boyfriend have fun with you, will you try and escape?” Those crystal blue eyes turn to look at you with the most pleading face. He isn’t as vocal as Bucky once was. He looks scared, and you can’t leave him.

“I won’t escape,” your lip trembles. You wouldn’t escape now. But you’re also taking Bucky with you.

“Good. Soldier, have your fun. Pump her full of cum, beat her, fuck her until she passes out, I don’t care. You understand he might not be the man you remember. He’s a machine.”

Steve turns on his heels, walking out of the room, “And you’re a monster. Bucky?” His head tilts to the side as he walks closer to you. Gently undoing your binding, and you sit up in the bed to remove his mask. Your hand presses gently up against his cheek, and you sob out his name.

“I thought I lost you. Won’t you say something?”

He struggles to say your name, and you brush away his hair, crawling into his lap. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. I got your roses. They can’t take away your heart, huh? Just your words,” his gloved hand pets up and down your back, and it infuriates you. “Take that off. I want to feel your skin.”

“Yeah — yes,” he says robotically, removing the material that keeps him from you. His hand touches your back, and you melt into him. He smells different, but that underlying musk of Bucky that was his natural scent is still there.

“Miss — you.”

“I missed you, too. Dreamed about you every night.”

“Not — dream. Me,” sitting back, you look up at him. Giving him the softest chaste kiss. “Me.”

“I did feel you. But you weren’t really chasing me were you?” He shakes his head smiling. “So I was dreaming, and you were touching?”

“Sorry,” his glove free hand pets up and down your sensitive neck before struggling to put it away. Bucky loved feeling his hand around your neck, and now there is a fear to touch you in that way.

“What if,” you lick your dry lips, eyes flitting around his face when you get the courage to speak. “What if I let you touch me? I’m not dreaming, or sleeping. I’m here. Apparently I am your toy to play with, so play. You…you can put me back in the restraints if you need to”

His brow furrows, and he shakes his head no. “You don’t have to hunt me. You don’t have to wait until I’m sleeping, I’m right here telling you I want you to have me. I’m leaving. But not without you. And…we’ll get out of this. We always do.”

Bucky lifts you off his lap to lay flat on the bed. Lifting up his shirt, he cheekily smiles at your covered core before rubbing the shirt in between his fingers. “Mine?”

You pull his hand down to your center. Letting him flatten his hand against you, “Yours,” a deep low growl rumbles up his chest, followed by a sigh. “It’s always been yours, Bucky.”

Sitting back up, you remove his shirt, and he looks over to the corner of the room, cameras. “Let them watch. I just want you,” you shimmy out of your panties, becoming completely nude while he is still in his gear. “However you want me,” you urge him closer. Taking off his other glove so you can weave your fingers in his.

Touch with Bucky has always been electric, and this is no different. He straightens up with your touch. Eyes opening up to show a bit more life to them. Getting to his knees, he undoes his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his cock, and you chirp at the sight of him.

“Yours,” he cocks his brow up, before using his thick body to spread you out further. Grabbing the base of his cock, he flicks your clit with his tip. Over and over again until you’re completely needy and squirming for him. Your arousal leaks out onto the bed, but this Bucky doesn’t stop. He wants to torture you with pleasure.

“Bucky!” Your fingers cling to his forearm as you urge him closer to you, but he still sits there flicking your clit, and teasing your entrance. “Bucky, take it. Take all of me. You already have.”

His breathing stutters, and your eyes blow wide open as he thrusts himself completely into you. Giving you seconds to adjust to his wide girth before he rails into you. There isn’t anything sweet about this moment. You’ve had sweet. This is Bucky reclaiming what was always his. Raw and forceful, and all James Bucky Barnes.

His hands slam above your head onto the bed frame. Wood splinters above your head, creaking under his pressure, but you only see Bucky. Much too dressed for your liking, but it was him. Powerful. Dangerous. Hard. But the softness in his eyes remains.

He is everything that you have ever wanted, and so much more. Even in this state, he is perfect. More than any man could ever amount to. He is Bucky. And he is yours. There is a fearful look on his face now. But he never gave up. He always finds you. He promised you he would, and he kept that promise.

Pulling himself out of you he wraps his arm around your waist, and forces you onto your knees, pushing your head down into the mattress before grabbing at your hips, and cramming himself back inside. You grip tightly to the sheets, centering yourself, and trying to remain present. This was always your favorite position. Letting Bucky use you completely, and it makes you a mess.

Squirting out how good it feels, and he goes harder. The bed lurches with every rock into your body. Eyes rolling into the back of the bed as you thank the stars above for giving Bucky back to you.

“And you think she is going to be the secret?” A man looks over towards Steve who was scowling at the monitor. He hated watching Bucky with you. He never deserved you. And no matter what he did, Bucky always found you. Desperation caused this, and he still found you.

“He’s not fighting anymore, is he?” Steve asks the man. Bucky just wanted you. You were his biggest weakness.

“Maybe he wouldn’t have fought, if you didn’t tease him. What was it you told him? You got to sink into her every fucking night? That you were going to breed her like your little bitch?” Steve shrugs his shoulders, trying to fight his impending hard on.

“I’m guessing you never got to fuck her?”

“It’s more complicated than that. She was only worried about Bucky. She didn’t even think about…I didn’t have time to try because that asshole kept needing to see her, and now she’s here, and…I hate him,” Steve grunts as Bucky smirks up at the camera.

Tilting his head back he lets out a guttural moan as he goes harder and faster than he ever has. Your body is completely flat on the bed now, trembling with pleasure as you look back at Bucky. He is different, and somehow still the same. He is enjoying himself, and your pleasure has always been his.

Hands hold tightly to your ass, spreading you apart so he can watch where the two of you connect. “I love you, Bucky,” your voice is barely audible, but he heard it. Crying out your name as he slams into yourself one last time before his thick cream paints your walls, and you moan at the warmth of his added seed.

“I love you, too,” such sweet sounds coming from him. Slowly he pulls himself out of you, and lifts up your ass, pointing to your gaping hole before looking back at the camera. “Mine. Not yours.”

“Who…who’s watching.”

“Him. Shh, go to sleep. Don’t worry. You’re mine.”

“And you are mine.”

“Forever and…”

“Always,” he would forever be yours. Nothing could ever change that. And nothing ever would.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @missusbarnes-rogers @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama @tittittoee

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forhappysake · 9 months ago

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You Live(d) There Too

Author's Note: We're getting angsty😜 Sorry guys I was bored and had some free time. My brain produced this *not proofread* monstrosity.

Summary: You've been left in the dark about the events that led to Spencer's release from prison. When he comes to take you home, you can't find it in yourself to go with him.

Warnings: spencer x reader, BAU-level violence, season 12 spoilers, mentions of kidnapping and weapons, established relationship, angst with no happy ending (sorry)

You stared up at the ceiling, dazed by the events of the day.

One minute, you’d been at Spencer’s apartment. The nurse had come to relieve you. Diana waved you goodbye. You’d gone to work.

The next minute, Diana was gone. The nurse was gone. You couldn’t get ahold of anyone and Luke was dragging you out of Spencer’s place. Penelope begged you to stay in her apartment with your eyes and ears open.

That was twelve hours ago. You’d gotten the sense that her push for vigilance meant bad things were happening. When Luke dropped you off at her place, he’d left you with his gun. You weren’t even sure how to use it, and the weight of it in your hands made you absolutely sick.

You thought about calling, but you knew better. You lay on her bed, listening to every creak in the building. You thought of Diana in her frail state and your eyes watered. You weren’t even sure what someone might want with her.

Spencer would never forgive you for this.

Just as you were about to attempt to call Penelope for news, you heard it. The distinct sound of footsteps outside her door. You sat up on the bed, reaching for the weapon left on the side table.

You stood up from the bed, rounding the corner into her hallway putting you in direct sight of the door. The room was dark, and you could barely make out the shape of the door before you. Your hands trembled as you raised the gun at the doorway, unsure of who might step inside. After a moment, the lock clicked and the door swung open.

A figure loomed in the doorway, the light from the hallway creating a silhouette and obstructing your view of them. You remained silent, still aiming the gun at the intruder. Your eyes adjusted, and you could make out a single arm reaching around the wall for a light switch.

The light filling the room caused you to squint your eyes. You gasped when you regained focus and could make out the man in front of you. “Spencer,” you gasped.

He looked up at you, his appearance disheveled and his eyes wide.

You remembered yourself at that moment and panicked. You dropped the gun, it clattered on the floor as you approached him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked breathlessly. You were sure you must be dreaming, your brain playing some cruel trick on you as it had several times before.

Your eyes connected with his own as tears swam in his vision. “It’s over.” He said it so simply as if it was just a matter of fact. “I’m out.”

“Your mom?” you questioned.

Spencer nodded. “They found her. She’s fine. I’ve checked her into the hospital for the night, just in case the medics missed anything. They’re going to watch her.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” you said, shaking your head. “I haven’t been told anything. I’ve been here for hours.” Your whole body was shaking now, the stress and exhaustion of the last day taking over.

You struggled to speak. “Now you’re here. I don’t even know if you’re really here or if this is another dream. I just feel so confused.”

The tears welled up in his eyes began running down his cheeks. Spencer reached an arm out to you, beckoning you to sit down on the couch between the two of you.

You did as directed, and he set himself on the arm of the couch, turning to face you. Your hands trembled as you folded and unfolded them in your lap.

“I will give you answers soon,” Spencer explained, his eyes focused on you. “As soon as we wake up in the morning. I’ll tell you everything. But not tonight. We both have to rest tonight.”

You shook your head again. “Spencer, we have nowhere to go besides here. Your apartment is some crime scene-”

He waved a hand, silencing you. “It’s been processed. Since the case is over we can go back.”

We.

“I don’t-” you sputtered. “Are you sure you want me to go back with you?”

Spencer looked almost offended. “Of course you’re coming back with me, why wouldn’t you? You live there too.”

You looked at the floor, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You felt his eyes on you, reading you like an open book. A look of realization came over his face.

“You don’t live there anymore, do you?” he asked. Spencer didn’t quite sound hurt, but seemed nearly defeated as his shoulders drooped forward even more.

You sighed and shook your head. “No, since this whole thing started I’ve only stayed intermittently to watch your mom of an evening. I’ve been living in a new apartment across town.”

Spencer stood from the couch, pacing back and forth slowly. “So you don’t want to go back to the apartment with me?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Not really, Spencer. The place just unsettles me at this point.”

He stopped in his tracks, turning to look at you. “You used to say it was your favorite place on earth.”

You shrugged. “Things changed, Spencer. When you went away I felt like someone was always watching me there. Now, after all this, I know I wasn’t totally wrong. Can you blame me for not wanting to return?”

Spencer put his hands to his face, muffling his words. “We’ll work it out. I’ll let the lease run up. We’ll go somewhere else.”

There was an awkward pause.

“You could just come to stay with me,” you offered warily.

He clocked your tone of voice immediately, narrowing his eyes at you. “But you don’t really want that, do you?”

You scoffed in an attempt to hide the truth. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve been here, in front of you, for the first time in three months without some kind of physical barrier between us and you haven’t so much as attempted to put a hand on me.” He seemed to be growing agitated, his hand fidgeting with the end of his tie.

You couldn't defend yourself. He wasn't wrong. He took your silence as an answer.

“You don’t even want me anymore, do you?” Spencer said quietly.

You flinched at the implication of his words. The tears that had been clouding your vision were streaking down your cheeks now. “No, it's just that - Spencer, it’s been months. I don’t know who you are anymore. I just don't feel comfortable going with you right now.”

Spencer stopped dead in his tracks. You could already feel your guilt seeping in because of your harsh words. His tears were visible as he cleared his throat to limit the crack in his voice when he spoke. “Spencer, I didn’t mean to imply that-”

He shook his head. “I get it. I’ll go.”

Spencer walked briskly towards the door, shoes thumping hard against the wooden floor with each step. He paused in the door frame, turning to look at you once more.

“We will work this out,” he said. For the first time since he arrived, you looked at him. Really looked at him. He offered you a sad smile. “I’m sorry for everything. I’ll make this better for us. I promise.”

He turned away, slipping out the apartment door and shutting it with a firm thud behind him. For the first time in three months, you let yourself utter a broken sob into Penelope’s otherwise quiet apartment.

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ohmygodryan · 2 months ago

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𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Creepypasta Reverse Harem x F! Reader (Part 1)

“𝓗𝓮𝔂 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓜𝓾𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓘? 𝓜𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝔂 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝓲𝓯 𝓘 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮?” -AFI

★ ₊ ˚⟡ Following a series of mistakes on Halloween, a college girl, and her group of friends, are thrown into a sequence of events that will ruin their lives forever.

𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼 - Eyeless Jack, Tim Wright (MH), Brian Thomas (MH), Jeffery Woods, Toby Rodgers, Helen Otis

I am unsure of the original creator of these images, if known please tell me and I will credit :)

Previously called as Morosis. Please see my blog for more chapters!

"𝓤𝓶𝓶𝓶𝓶 𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓸 o𝓸𝓿𝓪 𝓳𝓪𝓿𝓪."

The bottom of the red solo cup stared placidly back at the girl. The green film sloshed at the bottom as she gave it one more shake. It was empty, met with a frown from her glossy lips.

This must have been her fourth—no fifth margarita served enthusiastically from the 20-something frat-boy manning an Amazon-bought ice machine. Sure, it was watered down and contained a cheap margarita mix, but the tequila had gone to her head 3 drinks ago.

By now, she had been throwing ass for hours on end and had returned to the plastic table for another iced monstrosity Jimmy Buffet himself would turn a nose to. The girl began to debate further risking her chances of alcohol poisoning when a melodic sound caused her to break her train of thought.

The voice of Kesha was more than enough to convince her to return to the muggy living room of the overpacked frat house. She swayed her hips to the rhythm as she sauntered through the glass door, her red cup discarded to the wind and falling unenthusiastically onto the lawn.

She maneuvered her way through swaths of men getting no game and pairs of intense make-outs alike. She approached the throbbing speaker set. Most people were sat to the side, taking long drags from tiny pens or joyously slouched on the couch, engaged in alcohol-fueled conversation. The girl couldn't care less and continued to sway to the early 2000s banger that graced the speakers.

Her actions were keenly watched by a pair of green eyes from across the room. He had been observing the girl for a while now but had soon grown bored with watching her drunken display. He left the side of his friend, appearing before her with a sly smirk played on his lips. He wore a Spirit Halloween rendition of a Patrick Bateman costume, fake blood dashed across his cheek. He dragged his gaze up and down the girl's body, fitted in her own costume of a PlayBoy bunny. It was contrived, she knew that, but she felt hot so then again whose business was it?

She immediately stopped dancing at the sight of him, his plastic jacket blurring into colorful lines. She immediately became aware of how exposed her chest was.

"Fuck off Harrison, you aren't ruining Kesha for me." She pointed an accusatory finger at the discount American Psycho, her whole body wobbling as she did so.

The blonde threw his hands up in defeat, tousling his curled hair with it.

"Hey I'm just checking in on you, what's so bad about that?" He gave her an innocent smile.

She narrowed her eyes as she slurred over her words, "Because your shitty vibe is... shitty! And I want none of it."

He shook his head and laughed coolly, "I think you need to relax. How about you sit down before you fall over and we can get you another drink?"

She went to respond snarkily to his offer, but the prospect of another drink was not entirely unwelcome.

She mulled over his words and he extended a toned arm behind her shoulders. He took up the small of her back and gently guided her towards a nearby couch. She followed hesitantly, allowing herself to be escorted over. Just as she was about to surrender herself to the plush surface, a voice broke through the thrum of the synthetic beat.

"(Y/N!), girl where have you been all night?"

The girl turned her head to behold her concerned roommate. The much taller girl wore a closet costume of Tiffany Valentine from Bride of Chucky.

The drunken girl took one long look at her friend before furrowing her brows, "More like where have you been? I thought you left like an hour ago and I had to fuck it up on my own!"

Her roommate gave her a questioning look, "Did Becca and Cass leave?"

The girl nodded feebly "Uhhh yeah! Becca had to leave early because her ass is not built for more than 2 White Claws and Cass had to make sure she didn't die."

Her roommate shrugged, "Sounds like her. Sorry hun, I didn't mean to leave you alone for so long but—"

The girl rolled her eyes, "Yeah I get it, you and Noah found a room. Girl if you needed dumb dick you had better options!"

A sharp laugh sounded from the male next to her, "Damn ok, we really need to sit you down. Let me get you some water. Don't go anywhere."

He shot her a playful wink and disappeared around the corner.

"Seriously girl? Harrison? You said I was desperate." Her roommate gave her a disapproving look.

"I don't want his ass! I am way too fucked up for that." The girl shook her head and gave her a grimace.

"Honestly, you should just get out of here. I can call you an Uber since Cass took the keys?" Her roommate offered, holding her hand out expectantly.

"Nah it's fine, I just need to sit down for a bit! You don't need to worry about me." The girl gave an unconvincing smile.

"Girl you are one cup away from a bad decision, you should call it quits before you find out the hard way." Her roommate heaved an unimpressed sigh.

The smaller girl groaned and surrendered her phone, ultimately knowing her friend was right. Harrison swiftly returned with a cup of iced water. He held it out to her with an easy smile.

"Here (Y/N), why don't you sit down?"

Her roommate shook her head, "See this is what I'm talking about. Come on, I'm getting you out of here."

She grabbed the drunken girl's arm.

"But—!"

She went to protest but was swiftly stopped by a groan from the male.

"Oh come on Jen, she just needs to cool off for a bit. Let her enjoy the party, I'll watch her." His tone was edged with annoyance.

Jen looked from him to the cup in his hand, "What she needs is to go home. I already called an Uber, it's fine."

"I told you I'd watch her! Here (Y/N), just take the water." He grabbed onto the girl's arm, trying to press the cup into her hands.

Jen jerked her away, "God, will you just leave it? Come on girl."

Jen gave the girl one final tug and she relented to follow her.

"Damn Jen, why do you have to be such a bitch? We're just having fun!"

She gave him a cynical glare, "Fuck you, Harrison."

She took the girl by the shoulders and led her out of the party. The girl gave one last perplexed look at the blonde before letting herself be pushed away.

"He's a fucking case waiting to happen." Jen shook her head before looking at the girl's phone, "Ok hun, I'll help you find where this guy is gonna pick you up."

Jen guided the girl from the driveway of the house down to the street. They didn't get much further before the taller girl looked down at a notification from her phone.

"Oh god damn it, Julia is getting creeped on by Andre. Shoot, do you think you can find this guy on your own?" She groaned as she read the desperate text from another member of their friend group.

The girl nodded her head, attempting to put a hand on her hip confidently, "Don't worry girl, Juli is in way more shit than me. I got this!"

Jen sighed and handed the girl her phone back, "Are you sure?"

"Totally babe, I can read most of these words." She gave her a playful grin.

Jen smiled nervously before turning to leave, "I'll see you back at the apartment, ok? I gotta go before Juli freaks the hell out."

The girl watched her friend jog away and sighed as she turned to face the pavement. The street lights were far too bright for her pounding head and she began her trek with a sigh.

The driver was apparently having trouble finding the house, much to the girl's annoyance. She already struggled to respond to his text, and now this? Nearly every other house was booming with club anthems and brimming with cheap decorations. The girl found herself confused by yet another building with gruesome pumpkins crushed on the driveway. She felt as if she was going in circles and she did her best to wander in any direction that wasn't filled with trashed houses. Eventually, she found herself in a calmer area, presumably the place where her driver awaited her.

Like clockwork, her whirlwind of confusion ended with the spotting of a white Tacoma parked outside a nearby alleyway. It perfectly matched the picture illuminated on her phone, save for the splatters of blood along the truck bed, which in her mind was a declaration of Halloween spirit. She gave a cheer of triumph as she attempted to run over to the vehicle, although it appeared to be more of a wobbled skip.

A man emerged from fiddling with something in the back. He was considerably taller than her, wearing a white jacket with the hood pulled over his head. His black hair contrasted the blood-spattered fabric, barely hiding his face.

As she got over to him, she met his piercing gaze. She saw his face in the pristine light, displaying a haunting smile carved into his face.

She couldn't help her mouth from falling open in shock, "Damn dude, that makeup is crazy! But what are you? Like Gerard Way if he was the Joker? Or wait, wait, are you like an album cover?"

The man only looked taken aback, surveying the woman before him with sinister eyes. She was of a smaller stature, shamelessly rocking such a bold costume, and of course, completely alone. Perhaps she was just stupid or very confused, he reasoned.

She sighed, "Man I have like the coolest driver ever. I was scared I wasn't gonna find you. Dude, I'm not gonna lie I'm like this close to passing out on the street."

She was definitely stupid, he confirmed in his mind.

"What the hell are you even talking about?" He finally spoke.

The girl laughed, stumbling closer to him, "Sorry I just came from a party and I needed a designated driver. We go hard but we don't do DUIs here."

She cackled at her words, being met with a deadpan from the man. He gave her a once over and sighed.

Yeah, it seemed about right. A drunk girl alone a few days before Halloween, why was he even surprised anymore? He had found that people have an affinity for getting themselves into horror movie situations.

"Another drunk huh? Do you really think it's a good idea for you to be out here on your own?" He replied.

He leaned nonchalantly on the dash with his hands in his pockets, marveling at how stupid the girl was. Occasionally, his gaze flitted to the truck bed, which was messily covered with a tarp.

"I'm not alone! Or I wasn't alone anyway, my friend called me an Uber because I'm like 90% sure this dude was trying to roofie me." She explained, stopping to gain her bearings.

He stifled a laugh. She truly had no filter left.

"So your friend left you to find your ride even when you were getting creeped on? Sounds healthy." The bloodied man chuckled, watching with amusement as she pouted.

"So not true, she had to help our other friend who was also in deep. It's just girly things, duh." She smirked, although it looked less serious than she'd hoped.

The man threw his hands up in defense, "My bad, you do your thing, bunny girl."

The girl narrowed her eyes and began to protest, but was abruptly interrupted by an annoying voice.

"There you are (Y/N)! I thought I'd lost you."

The girl groaned dramatically, turning around promptly, "What the hell Harisson? Is your stalking ass following me?"

The blonde strutted up to her, considerably more inebriated than he had been when they last met. This time, however, he was followed by a posse of equally as intoxicated men.

"Of course I am, I wasn't going to let you run off on your own." Harrison stopped abruptly, staring at the bloodied man next to the girl.

"Whose this (Y/N)?" His mouth held an easy smile, but his eyes held warning behind them.

"He's my Uber driver!" She answered, stepping closer to the man.

"Someone who doesn't have time for this shit." The man remarked soon after.

One of Harrison's friends laughed wryly, "Dude what are you supposed to be? Some kind of emo band member?"

The bloodied man stared through him, stuffing his hand further into his pocket.

"Something like that." He responded.

Harrison rolled his eyes, "I don't care who you're supposed to be buddy, (Y/N) come on, we're getting out of here."

The girl grimaced and crossed her arms with a malicious look in her eye, "Hell nah! I know what your ass is up to and I'm not about that."

Harrison narrowed his eyes, "What I'm up to is trying to help you, now let's go."

He held out a hand to her. The girl shook her head.

"Nuh-uh!"

"I said, let's go!" He grabbed her arm roughly.

The girl gasped at his audacity and jerked her arm away, "Let go of me, asshole!"

As she pulled away from his grasp, she tumbled backward in her discombobulated state. The bloodied man dove into action and looped his arms under her own, pulling her to her feet.

"Who the hell do you think you are? She said no and you grab her?" The bloodied man accused, raising his voice.

Harrison glanced between his fellow frat devotees with a drunken smirk.

"Do we have a problem here? We're only trying to help her." He chuckled, raising his arms in a carefree gesture.

The bloodied man gently pushed the girl behind him, "Bullshit. We're gonna have a problem if you don't quit while you're ahead."

"Are you seriously threatening me?" The blonde mused, stepping closer to him.

"Why don't you use your fucking brain and figure it out? Just fuck off before you find out what being a spineless dickhead really means." The man reached his head into his pocket threateningly.

Harrison's smirk dropped as he eyed the man's hand warily. He looked back at his friends, nearly speechless.

The bloodied man led the girl to the passenger side of his truck, ushering her inside, "Get in the car. Now."

The girl stumbled along with him, giving one last look at Harrison bitterly. The man slammed the door and looped back around to send a final glare at the group of boys before slipping into the driver's seat. He stepped on the gas, leaving a trail of slack-jawed drunken frats.

The girl observed the man through half-lidded eyes.

"Thanks for that. I'm sorry you got involved with those assholes." She sighed.

He peered over at her from his place behind the wheel.

"Don't mention it." He grumbled, focusing back on the road.

He had no idea what he was doing. Between the drunk girl in the passenger seat and the body stored in the truck bed, he was deciding what to deal with first.

"You're really intimidating, you know. That was fucking terrifying." She laughed slowly.

The laugh promptly turned into a fit of giggles as she stared out the window, "I would have totally pissed my pants in that situation."

"With how fucked up you are right now, I don't know if I like those odds." The man quipped, his gaze still focused on the darkness ahead.

She looked at him offended, her stupid smile only widening, "I am not going to piss. I might throw up though."

A laugh slipped from his torn mouth, "You are so fucked up lady."

She continued to giggle, only to be interrupted by a hiccup.

"No wait I'm serious. Oh man I am so fucking sorry, I am really trying not to ruin your seats right now." She looked at him with a mix of fear and regret.

He chuckled, "Don't worry about it, I stole this piece of junk anyways."

"Yeah, for sure, can we please pull over?" She half laughed half coughed.

She thought he was joking.

He was not. The body in the back could attest to that.

"For real?" He eyed her skeptically.

She nodded, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Oh for fucks sake."

About five minutes later, the girl was on her hands and knees, spilling the contents of her stomach all over an innocent gutter. The bloodied man held her hair back begrudgingly.

"Alright come on, get it all out. We don't have all night." He gave her back a firm smack.

She gave a final cough and looked up at him warily. Her eyes were glazed over and her makeup was running down her cheeks, glistening in the headlights. She went limp in his arms, resigning herself to the depths of her Margaritaville stupor.

"You good?" He heaved her up, although she was showing no signs of standing.

She mumbled a response, her eyes flittering shut.

"Come on bunny girl, stay with me." He gave her face a gentle smack.

She didn't budge.

"God fucking dammnit." The man cursed.

He slung her arm over his shoulder, dragging her back to the car. Surprisingly, it wasn't the first body he'd manhandled that night.

He returned to his seat soon after, staring out the window at the headlight-bathed asphalt. He glanced back at the woman in the stolen passenger seat. It would be so easy to end her life quickly, adding her to his growing collection in the back of the car. His thoughts trailed back to the idiotic men from before who hunted her like dogs. She had the unfortunate luck to be met with danger on every corner, and yet here she was, peacefully knocked out in a stranger's car. He watched the way she breathed softly in her drunken coma.

He sighed, gently pulling her phone from her grip. She didn't stir as he examined the screen. It was still turned on, lit up with the front page of the Uber app. Her real driver had canceled the ride long ago. The man navigated to her profile and looked at her address. He glanced between her and the trunk. He cursed under his breath as he typed her address into his own phone.

With that, he sped off into the night, wondering just what had gotten into him.

"𝓦𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮" -Jimmy Buffet

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#creepypasta #eyeless jack #bloody painter #helen otis #ticci toby #toby rodgers #jeffery woods #jeff the killer #marble hornets #tim wright #brian thomas #x reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x female reader #female reader #writing

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