#no one will kill me to death for this and if they do i don't care!! your fave has been lesbianbeamed!!

[insidekatmind]

Guard~ Hwang Jun-ho

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

You were taken to a mysterious place, where the games of your childhood came back to haunt you in a deadly way. The rules were simple: win or die. If you broke a rule, you weren't just eliminated. You were killed.

Shot to death for a simple childish game.

But the prize was tempting: 6 billion won. An amount that drove 456 desperate people, including you, to risk everything.

This place is called The Squid Games.

Around you, men with black masks that hide their faces. The masks have different symbols: the squares are the Managers, those who command; the triangles are the Soldiers, armed with guns always ready; and the circles are the simple workers, who never speak unless ordered to do so.

At first, you didn't know who they really were, but there was a man among them, watching you. Silent, attentive.

His name is Jun-ho.

---

Jun-ho was not like the others. Behind the Manager mask, he hid a secret: he was looking for his brother, In-ho, the winner of the 28th edition of the games, who disappeared without a trace. To find answers, Jun-ho had infiltrated the workers, assuming the identity of one of them.

And then he met you.

--

The second game was to cut out a perfect shape from a piece of caramelized sugar. If you broke the shape, you were eliminated on the spot.

Sitting on the ground, you clutched your small umbrella in your shaking hands. You knew it was the most difficult shape to cut out. The screams of those who failed filled the air, followed by the dry sound of gunshots.

You concentrate, breathing hard, sweat dripping down your forehead. Finally, with one last precise movement, the umbrella shape comes off without breaking.

You smile, relieved. You get up and approach a Manager to show off your work. He slowly turns to you. Under the square mask, Jun-ho’s eyes soften for a moment, almost imperceptibly.

“Done,” you say softly, a hint of pride in your voice.

He nods. “Good job.”

From that moment, something changes

---

After the brutal test of Tug of War, you are in the bathroom, in front of the mirror, cleaning a cut on your face. During the game, another participant accidentally scratched you with his nail as you struggled not to fall.

You are rubbing the wound with a piece of cloth, when the bathroom door slowly opens.

A man in a square mask enters, looking around before closing the door behind him. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“Rough game, hm?” he says softly, his voice recognizable despite the hushed tone.

you sigh as you dry yourself "no, do you think so?" you say sarcastically

"Hm, I have a feeling you'd be sarcastic," he says under his mask, leaning against the bathroom wall.

"it's the only thing I have left," you mutter tiredly. Under his mask, Junho's eyes softened as he listened to your words. Seeing you so clearly struggling and exhausted from the games was a hard sight to behold. He was silent for a moment before answering softly, "Don't say that."

You turn to look at him. "But it's the truth. In these games, you risk your life, it's easy to talk for you."

"I risk my life too, you know, doll." He retorts, and the nickname slips off his tongue before he can even register what he said. He paused for a second, before answering softly, "Believe me, it's not easy at all."

you look at him in disbelief, not believing him. "and let's hear what you're risking? you're a guard"

He laughs at your response and shakes his head slightly under his mask. He pushes himself away from the wall, taking a step towards you as he answers in a low voice,

"And if you think that being a guard is just fun and games, you're wrong. Do you have any idea what we've been ordered to do?"

you look at him carefully "kill people? well I notice that you do it with great pleasure" you blurt

He lets out a soft sigh under his mask, almost rolling his eyes at your words. He continues to walk towards you, until he's right in front of you, with his back to the wall. As he looks down at you, his voice drops: "You don't know how things really are. Do you think it's a choice? No, it's an order. We were told to do it. Not that you'd understand that, right?"

"He is only one, there are many more of you, the story of not having a choice doesn't hold up" you huff

He let out a soft sigh as you continued to argue with him. Then he leaned even closer, his body practically against yours as he looked down at you. The black mask on his face hid the slight frown on his lips. "Do you think the guards don't have to obey? Do you think we have the choice to stop or not follow orders? Do you think we have the choice to say no?" He asks firmly, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"I repeat, he is only one and there are many more of you" you move closer to him leaving no space. He lets out a small, bitter laugh under his mask as you enter his space.

He couldn't deny the fact that you were stubborn, and annoying. He stood there for a moment, still looking down at you as he held his body against yours. Then he answered in a low voice, "Are you always this stubborn?"

"I'm usually quiet but this place drives me crazy" you mutter looking at him. He lets out another soft sigh, shaking his head slightly under his mask.

After a moment, he lifts a hand to your head and gently moves a lock of hair from your face. He pauses, before saying in a more calm tone than before: "Yeah, I don't blame you. This place does the same to me too".

You lean into his touch feeling a sweet caress after a long time. He feels you leaning into his touch, that you're almost melting completely. His fingers continued to gently brush your hair, before moving to gently cup your face. He let out a silent sigh as his thumb carefully brushed your cheek.

You sigh softly and lean into him more. "It feels so good to be caressed after so long".

He can’t help but frown under his mask when he feels you lean into him. He slowly moves his other hand to grasp your waist, as he carefully guides you forward to rest against his chest.

He wraps his arms around you gently, holding your body against his, and his hands draw gentle circles on your back. His eyes wander once more to the cut on your face as he says softly, “Doll, why didn’t you clean yourself up properly? You even have a cut on your face.”

You sigh softly and hug him, “Who cares, I’ll have more,” you whisper tiredly. He feels you gently wrap your arms around him, causing his to tighten around you. He sighs softly under his mask when you mention the possibility of him having more injuries. “I don’t want you to get any more. Especially while you’re here in the arena.” He responds by gently holding the back of your head against his shoulder.

You hum in response and let yourself go to the feel of his arms around your body. He stays silent as he listens to you hum softly, letting his mind focus on the feel of you against him.

He held you tightly to his body, not wanting to let go so soon.

The feeling of having you in his arms was something he didn’t want to give up so quickly. He liked the way you leaned into him, the way you let him hold you, even though we were in the bathroom.

His arms still held you against his chest, his chin resting on your head. He could faintly smell your shampoo, a pleasant smell that made him tighten his arms around you slightly.

He was silent for a moment, before saying softly, “You know I’m going to be in trouble if anyone catches us like this.”

You nodded weakly into his arm again. “Do you want me to let go?” You whispered, hoping he’d say no.

Feeling your body nod against his, he let out a soft sigh as he rolled his eyes under his mask. He pulled you a little closer, not letting go even a little. “If I told you I wanted you to move, would you?” he murmurs softly as he rubs your back.

"well i would struggle but yes" you whisper again into his arms. When he hears you answer, he lets out a soft hum, clearly not satisfied with your answer. He pushes you back, until you are pinned against the wall, your body still in his arms. He freezes you in place as he bends down to your height, his mask right next to your ear. "Doll, are you sure you really want to leave? You look reluctant." He murmurs softly.

"no i don't" you whisper as you hold him close. He lets out a soft smirk when he hears your words, a victorious smile beneath his mask. "That's what i thought. You're not really willing to leave, huh?" He runs his hands up your sides, his fingers delicately tracing your curves. He had you pinned to the wall, not letting you move even a little.

The feel of your body against his, the way you leaned into him made his face heat up. He leaned down, lowering his mask slightly to your neck and feeling his warm breath on your skin. He murmured softly, "Tell me, doll. Do you know how hard it is for me to stay calm when I'm with you?"

you look at him softly, "can you take off your mask?" The request takes him a little by surprise, but he quickly regains his composure. He looks at you from under the mask, considering your words. After a moment, he slowly raises his hands and removes the mask that covers his face. He places the mask on one of the nearby sinks, before looking back at you, his dark eyes meeting yours. His hair was falling delicately over his forehead, giving him a slightly disheveled look.

You smile softly and caress his cheek. "You're so beautiful," you whisper softly. When he feels your hand gently caress his cheek, his face reddens from the unexpected compliment. He looks at you and sees a soft smile on your lips, and it makes his heart beat faster. He responds softly, his voice a little softer than before, "Do you really think so?"

You smile softly and nod. He swallows slightly, his face still red as you nod in agreement. sign of confirmation. "Doll, you shouldn't say things so suddenly. You'll make me act even more out of place than I already have." He murmurs softly as he moves his head to lean into your touch.

"do it," you whisper. When he hears such direct words from you, he lets out a sigh of relief.

He then grabs your wrists, pinning you against the wall again; this time both wrists are in his grip. “You’re only making it worse for yourself, doll. You really shouldn’t say things like that.” He says in a low, slightly warning tone.

He leaned in closer, his body pressed against yours, your wrists still in his grip. He looked at you intently, his expression a little serious, but with a slight hint of something else. “Let me ask you this, doll. Do you want me to go further?”

You look at him and nod quickly. He’s slightly surprised when you nod quickly in response. He smirks slightly as he looks up at you and studies your face carefully. “You’re so quick to say that, doll. I wonder if you’ll regret it later.”

He leans in even further, pinning your wrists against the wall above your head. Then he moves closer to your neck, his breath warm on your skin as he murmurs softly. “But I won’t stop.”

His lips soon move to your neck, gently planting kisses on your sensitive skin. He moved slower, savoring the feeling of having you in his arms. He continues to hold your wrists still, preventing you from moving, while his other hand slowly slides down your body. You moan and cling to him.

When he hears your moan, he makes a soft hum against your neck. He slowly feels you grab him, as if you want to pull him closer, as if you want his body against yours. He gently bites your skin, trailing kisses along your neck with his lips, until he reaches your ear. He whispers in a low, warm tone, "You're mine, doll. Just remember that." You nod in response.

He lets out another soft hum as he feels your head nod against his body. He feels you pressing yourself more and more against him, as if you were submitting completely to his touch. He slowly lets his hands wander over your body, his touch firm against your curves. He murmurs in a low, possessive tone against your ear, “Be a good doll and hold still for me, okay?” You nod again in response.

When he says these words, he feels your body tremble slightly, as he slowly caresses your hips with his hands. His touch on your skin is gentle yet firm, as if he’s making sure to memorize every inch of you. He begins to slide his hands gently down your body, his fingers tracing your curves until they reach your face. He looks down at you, meeting your eyes. “You look so beautiful like this, doll.”

He raises his hand and gently runs his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and tender on your skin. His dark eyes scan your features, carefully studying every detail of your face: from your lips to your cheeks, to the slight cut on your face. He looks down at you for a few seconds before murmuring softly, "You look so fragile like this. You're mine, and tonight I'll remind you of that." Hearing those words, you moan in response.

He lets out a small smirk in response to the sound of your moan. His hands slowly slide to your hips, gripping you gently as he pulls you closer to his body. He murmurs in a low, firm tone, "You make it harder for me to hold back, doll."

He leans back slightly and his eyes travel back up your body, pinned to the wall. He looks down at you, his expression a little serious, but revealing something else. “You know, honey, I’m going to make sure you’re completely mine before the night is out.” You whimper in response.

He slowly leans forward again, pinning you to his body. He looks at you intently, his eyes locking with yours. Then he slowly murmurs against your ear, his voice low and seductive, "You know I won't be gentle, doll. I'm going to have you all to myself tonight." You moan softly, getting excited at his words,

He feels your moan against his body and it makes his body heat up. He slowly lowers his hands, grabbing your thighs and lifting you up quickly, your legs wrapping around his waist. He pins you more firmly against the wall, making sure you're locked in place.

He feels your body shaking against his, your arms wrapping around his neck as you hold on tight. He watches you as you're against the wall, his eyes locked on your face. He studies your expression for a few seconds before letting out a small smirk. "Doll, you really don't know how hard you make it for me to control myself."

You look at him longingly and kiss him. He’s a little surprised when you suddenly kiss him, not expecting such a bold move from you. He kisses you quickly, his lips moving against yours in a firm but somehow gentle way. He slowly moves his hands up, grabbing your wrists as he pins your body to the wall again, now holding both of your wrists in his grip.

His lips move against yours, his kiss slowly becoming more intense as he pins your body to his. He continues to hold your wrists with one hand, not letting you escape his touch. After a moment he pulls away and looks at you, your face red and slightly breathless from the kiss. “Baby, you make it hard to hold back.” He says softly, his eyes roaming over your face.

“I need you,” you murmur longingly. He lets out a soft sigh when he hears those words come out of your mouth. He looks at you intently, his eyes meeting yours. He sees the desire on your face, and he’s both surprised and excited by it. Then he responds softly, his voice almost whispering, “Do you want me that bad, doll?”

“Yes please,” you murmur in response. He lets out a soft hum as he looks up at you and notices the pleading look on your face. His expression softens slightly, a hint of possession in his eyes. “Beg all you want, doll. I won’t be gentle. Tonight I’m going to have you all to myself.” You groan in anticipation.

He quickly turns around and walks with you in his arms, still holding you tightly in his grip. Then he places you on the nearest bed, positioning you right in the middle. Then he looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body. He grabs your thighs and pulls you towards him, moving you over the sink

He places himself between your legs, his body hovering over yours. He looks down at you, a small smirk on his lips. Then he slowly runs his hand up your leg, his touch almost reverent. “You look so beautiful like this, doll. All mine, just for me.” You moan in response.

He quickly begins to undo your shirt, his fingers working deftly, fast and precise. Your shirt soon opens, exposing your skin to his gaze. Then he looks down at you, his gaze slowly wandering over your body. His expression is a little hungry as he looks at you, his eyes slowly darkening. “Doll, you look so beautiful. You have no idea how hard it is for me to control myself with you like this.”

He moves his hands down, gently touching your skin as his fingers begin to explore every inch of your body. It’s not gentle; his touch is firm and somewhat possessive. He slowly moves closer to you, his body pressing against yours as he leans down. His lips are right next to your ear and he murmurs softly, “You feel so good under my touch, doll. I want you so bad right now.”

You whimper at his touch wanting more and you cling to him. Jun-ho removes his clothes and rubs his hardness against your entrance and then enters you making you moan loudly. He starts to move against you harder and harder, he was true to his word. He wasn’t gentle at all. His hips move at a slow but steady pace, each thrust is hard and deep.

With each thrust you moan loudly as you cling to him. He watches you intently, his eyes locked on your face as he notices the look of pleasure on your face. “You feel so good, doll. It’s like you were made for me this beautiful pussy” he moans thrusting even harder.

He can feel you trembling under his touch, your body responding in ways that only make him wilder. He moves closer to you, his body flush against yours as he continues to move against you. His mouth moves down to your neck, where he gently sucks your skin, leaving little marks in his wake. “You’re mine, baby. I’m the only one who can see you like this. You’re mine and mine alone.”

He picks you up and fucks you in his arms, hitting you deeper and deeper. "this pussy is so tight" he grunts, fucking you harder and you scream.

"I'm close" you murmur, moaning and Jun-ho smiles and pushes his hips even more brutally. "cum for me doll" he murmurs and you come hearing his words.

Jun-ho smiles and pushes himself even more brutally and then cums inside you. You screamed from the mixture of pain and pleasure. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and he smiles. "You're mine, there's no escape now" he whispers in your ear.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Can you pls do the Mingle game scene where Hwang offs player 343 but instead of player 390 witnessing it, it’s us?

Keeping you safe

Squid Game masterlist

Hwang In-ho/Frontman/Young-il x fem!reader

Cw: Death of player 343, mentions of players getting shot, slightly different from how it went in the series.

"Two."

Right after the voice stopped, you were suddenly grabbed by Young-il, who dragged you off towards an empty room. Almost there, another player bumped into you, causing you to lose balance, when another player tried running into the room you two were heading to, but Young-il was faster, grabbing the man and pulling him out, then quickly went inside telling you to get in as quickly.

Inside you discovered another player already inside, it was player 343, who looked stunned when he saw you two. Young-il's gaze instantly fixed on him.

"Get out." Young-il growled, and player 343 backed off against the wall.

"We were here first." He defended, but Young-il had enough and rushed over to him. The guy Young-il pulled out wanted to make his way inside, and you closed the door, keeping it shut, and turned to see Young-il holding player 343 in chokehold, slumped against the wall, slowly pulling him down with him as the counter was at 10 seconds left.

Looking at Young-il's face, it almost seemed like he had a smirk on his lips, but you couldn't make it out because of the dim light.

At this point all the other players were desensitized when it came to the others getting killed, but you were not. You didn't want this poor player to die.

"W-wait, Young-il, don't–"

But he didn't listen, instead, he snapped player 343's neck right infront of you, the sound echoed through the room, which the sound alone had your spine crawling.

The body of him was slumped against Young-il, just as the timer ran out, the lock clicked in place and the players still outside were shot by the guards.

"Why did you–" you stuttered.

Young-il dumped the body into the corner, standing up and let out a heavy breath.

"You know if I didn't do it we would be killed instead." he said, walking over to you, looking through the slit on the door.

"But you could have thrown him out..." you tried arguing.

His head turned a bit, it looked like the corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk just slightly.

"And let the other asshole come in?" He turned to face you fully. "He was already inside. I could have just closed the door and leave you out there."

For once, you couldn't come up with anything else to argue, you knew he was right, but killing still didn't feel right to you.

"Listen," His hand came up, resting on your shoulder "I did it for you, to save you. And if it means killing another player myself, then so be it."

You swallowed hard, looking into his eyes as they softened while looking into yours. His hand went from your shoulder to gently grab your chin.

"From now on, you should stick close to me. I may be the only one here caring about you. The others would rather kill you, but not me." He spoke softly, holding eye contact with you the whole time.

His grip tightened slightly, letting you know he means it. "Understood?"

All the emotions inside you made you nod weakly in response.

Young-il released you, smiling and patting your shoulder. "Good. You'll soon see how much I care about you."

Then the speaker announced the games to continue, the lock on the door was unlocked leaving you both to get out and continue with the games.

You don't know if you should feel safe or not, knowing Youg-il would even kill for you if it means keeping you unharmed.

[fl3shm4id3n]

could you do a fic where thanos finds out fem reader self-harms?? or like he notices fresh scars 😭😭 make it fluffy/ or angst, and do whatever u want

ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: SENSETIVE TOPIC, talks about self harming/cutting, worried Thanos, talks about substances/drug abuse, swearing, comfort at the end.

Masterlist

You've managed to sneak a blade into the games, you knew how to hide them without them getting spotted. Every bathroom break you'd go to, you always gave yourself a small cut, whether it was on your thigh or arm. You had stopped harming yourself, but your debts and the stress that came it, made you harm yourself again. Even more since you've been playing these games. You didn't want to die, you wanted to go home. But you were prevented from leaving since people wanted to continue playing and add more money to the piggy bank. The stress was killing you, the cuts became more frequent, you had began to harm yourself under your covers when the lights went out.

After the mingle game, you were anxious. Even worried. You couldn't help but fidget your hands. What if the next game was even more deadly than the last. What if you got killed? That made you even more anxious. You continued to fidget your hands, every now and then your caress your fresh cuts on your wrist. You wanted to go to the bathroom badly, desperate to do a cut just to ease your nerves. Thanos then approached you and leaned his body against the wall. "Why are you here alone?" He couldn't help but ask, you looked up at him. Still anxious. Thanos tilted his head to the side. "You're a shy one huh?" He asked. "Come on. Let's go and make you some friends." He said, grabbing a hold of your of your wrist, you then let out a painful hiss.

Thanos looked at you, both confused and worried. "What? Did I hurt you?" He asked, he then looked down at your wrist and noticed something. He didn't hesitate and began to pull the sleeve of your jacket up. "No, don't-" You tried to say, but it was late. Your sleeve was pulled up. Thanos looked at your arm. Seen the many scars and fresh cuts. "What the fuck are these?" He asked, he sounded angry. All you could do was look down at the ground, ashamed.

Next thing you were. You were in the bathroom with Thanos. He was cleaning up your wounds with the water from the silk. It was quiet, very quiet. The tension was obvious. "Why do you do it?" Thanos asked, but you didn't respond. Thanos then grabbed a paper towel and began to clean the water off your arm. "You do know this can kill you? What if you were to cut a veil and you bleed to death? Then what?" He asked, still upset. "What about you? You take drugs as if they're candy. Drugs can kill you too ya know." You said, almost defensive.

"This isn't about me, it's about you. How did you even sneak a blade in here? How did they not take it away with your stuff." He wondered. You went quiet again. Not wanting to say a word. Once he was finished cleaning your cuts, he pulled your sleeve down. He then held out his hand. "Give me." He demanded, you looked at him confused. "Give you what?" You asked. "Don't play dumb, give me the blades. Now." He said, more demanding. As much as you didn't want to, you did. You gave him the small razor blades, placing them on his hand. "All of them." He said, you sighed. Then reached into your mouth, under your tongue and carefully took out the last one. And placed it in his hand.

Thanos then went over and threw the blades in the toilet and flushed them. You just stood there, still ashamed. He made sure that they all flushed down. He then walked over to you and looked at you. "Don't do that shit again you hear?" He said, almost scolding you like a child. You didn't respond, you just kept your head down. Thanos then placed his hands on your shoulders and leaned down a bit to try to look at your eyes. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here. You hurting yourself won't solve anything." He said, then he pulled you into a tight hug. "You are cared for. You are loved." He said as he hugged you. You didn't really know him, yet he was here acting like you have been friends for decades. He then pulled away and looked at you. "Stick with me okay? You don't have to be alone in this okay?" He said, but before you could respond, he pulled you into a tight hug again. Maybe that's what you needed, someone to talk to. You slowly hugged him back. Happy to know that someone is willing to help you.

[undeadentropy]

Yeah my family told me that love was unconditional so I guess I just believed them? Had a bad habit of trusting people most of my life. Don't worry ex family, I'm cold and bitter and slow to trust people like you now, so mission accomplished I guess ✌️

Anyhow to any young autistic people, just because they don't hit you and they make some sort of apology after yelling at you doesn't mean they actually care. My family was all that and they literally kicked me out to starve to death on the streets because I tried to kill myself. Both sides, the only thing they ever agreed on after the divorce. Turns out if both sides are intelligent gaslighters, you can be conditioned to accept a lot of shit you had no idea was even bad. Take care of yourself first. Don't self sacrifice out of love.

Here is the golden rule to know if your instincts are right about friends or famIly. If you can't safely unmask around them, or don't feel safe unmasking around them for reasons other than past abuse, don't fucking trust that person more than you can throw them. I'm so serious right now. I'm well past halfway through my life expectancy now and this rule hasn't been wrong even once.

If this advise can protect even one of you then I will considered it an acceptable trade. I want you all to live better than I did. Had I known then what I do now my life would have gone very differently. I should have left my damn mask on and kept going forward.

And whatever they've done to you, don't kill yourself. Dont give then the satisfaction. Die with honor and meaning if you must die. But don't you dare go quietly. Every day you survive this world gives you a chance to make it better off than how it started. Protect others from what you've been through. We go forward together across broken glass and blood at tears if we must. But we go forward.

If you have absolutely no one, then know you got this random faceless internet stranger crying as she types this. I love you. And I will never stop fighting for you.

a bottom-tier autistic experience is being told throughout your entire childhood that you are just an overthinker when it comes to social situations and later finding out that your friends did, in fact, hate being around you and tried to communicate that through weird little hints

[sleeplessdove]

— twist the knife

♡ ghostface! e. williams x fem! reader

synopsis: just how much cruelty is your girlfriend capable of?

a/n: old fic while i work on vampire!ellie stuff …

warnings: DARK THEMES! - toxic relationships, murder, death, im serious she is on a killing spree, masked killers, name calling, mocking, tormenting, ellie & r! are in college, fighting, verbal arguments, breaking and entering, crying, begging, threats of violence, many of said threats are carried out, pet names, knife usage, blood, hair pulling, falling, smacking, a gun again who else is shocked, forced affection & apologies, r! gets eaten out, fingering (r! receiving), mentions of love cause why not, gun fucking ... guys im sorry, blackmail, photos with a lack of consent, and lots more !

wc: 9.6k

Even with the calm sound of the leaves rustling from the light breeze, you couldn’t help but continue to look back over your shoulder to ensure that no one was behind you. 

It was a nervous habit you had picked up after the murders began in your small town. You felt as if there was no amount of caution that would protect you from the psycho killer that was brutally ending innocent lives. 

The thoughts had flooded your mind so much that you had momentarily forgotten your girlfriend was right beside you, her fingers interlaced with your own as she carried out her usual routine of walking you home after classes were over. 

Your head was still turned back so that you could observe the people walking behind you, only being met with the sight of a students who you had seen around campus a few times. Ellie must have been trying to get your attention for a while, as she finally waved her hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance. 

“Jesus fucking christ, I thought you were listening to me that whole time. Did you hear anything I said?” she questioned, a light chuckle leaving her lips despite her harsh words. Your eyes widened in the slightest when her voice finally reached you, flinching momentarily since you hadn’t expected the sudden sound. 

Ellie quickly snapped her head back in the direction you had previously been looking in, her brows furrowing to convey her confusion before looking back at you. “You’re acting like we have a stalker or something. Do you know something I don't?” she asked in her usual joking tone, your body relaxing in the slightest from how at ease Ellie seemed. 

“M’ sorry for not listening, I’m just a little scared— you know? All the people who have been killed are people we knew” you mumbled, lowering your gaze towards the orange leaves that were scattered all along the sidewalk. Ellie couldn’t stop the light scoff that passed her lips, almost seeming too relaxed despite the fact that you were absolutely right. 

“We didn’t know them that well” she added swiftly, a slight smile creeping onto her lips before she spoke once more. “Plus, it's not all bad. Classes are canceled till those dumbass cops can figure out what the fuck is going on. And considering the fact that they only know what costume the killer is wearing, we probably won’t have to worry about classes for the rest of the year” she blurted without the slightest bit of hesitation. 

It wasn’t unlike Ellie to be so sarcastic but you couldn't shake the nerves that were flooding your body, a small frown appearing on your lips despite her attempt to ease the tension. “S’ not like they’re gonna be missed anyways. Those jock assholes got what was coming to them. Shit, maybe we should be thanking ghostfa—” she began, although her words never managed to connect in your mind. 

You were far too distracted, as you had finally looked up at Ellie only to notice the slightest bit of blood seeping from a small gash that was covered by her hair. “Oh my god, what happened?” you questioned in a worried tone, your brows knitting together as you let go of her hand so you could try to observe her injury. With careful movements, you pushed her hair back only to find that the wound was far worse than you thought. 

There was a purplish hue surrounding it, dried blood having collected into the roots of her auburn hair. You couldn’t understand why you hadn’t noticed it earlier, only being brought out of your thoughts when Ellie pulled your hand away from her face ever so gently. “S’ nothing serious, baby. Just got into a little disagreement with someone yesterday” she muttered in a careless manner, trying to play it off as smoothly as possible. 

It wasn’t as if it was the most incomprehensible idea, as Ellie was known for her short temper and rather aggressive approach to resolving issues. However, that didn’t stop the small pout from appearing on your features, your eyes still lingering on the cut as you spoke. “You told me you were going to stop getting into fights” you huffed, not taking hold of her hand before you continued to walk in the direction of your home. 

Ellie was quick to follow after you, catching up to you before you could get too far from her. “I said I would try to stop getting into fights. There is a big difference” she retorted, wrapping her arm around your waist before using the back of her free hand to wipe off the smallest bit of blood that had dripped down her forehead. You only rolled your eyes at her words, grumbling a soft “whatever” in reply. 

The two of you had finally reached your home just as Ellie was about to make another excuse, and you were already pulling away from her so that you could make your way inside without her. Ellie wasn’t having any of that, pulling you back rather roughly so that you were facing her. “Can I come over later tonight, bun? I was thinkin’ maybe we could watch a scary movie together” she muttered, attempting to make you forget the fact that you were upset with her. 

It didn’t work all that well, as you shook your head quickly at the request. “Not tonight” you sighed, squirming in the slightest from how tightly she was holding you. Ellie didn’t seem pleased with your reply, her sweet demeanor dropping completely as a frown took the place of her previous smile. “Why not? Are you seeing someone else tonight?” she questioned in an accusing manner, her grip only tightening as you tried to get her to ease up. 

“No— I am not having anyone else over tonight” you scoffed, looking at her with an unamused expression. “I already told you that my parents are gone for the whole week and you know their rules” you began, only to be cut off by a low groan leaving Ellie’s lips. “No having your girlfriend over after dark” she mocked the rule your parents had made up the minute the two of you began dating, her voice making her irritation evident. 

You shot her a quick glare but nodded your head nonetheless, watching as Ellie tried to find the right words to convince you to just disobey your parents this one time. “How would they even know? Promise I won’t tell on you” she said with a cocky smile, as she had lied to your parents faces countless times after helping you sneak out at night to come over to her place.

 “I can’t take any chances after they caught you coming in through the window last week, Els. They still have me on house arrest for that” you whined in reply, not wanting to fight with Ellie about this any longer. 

Ellie’s reaction was anything but sweet, as she rolled her eyes and finally released the hold she had on you rather carelessly so that you stumbled in the slightest. “I don’t fucking get it— you’re in college and they treat you like you’re still just a kid” she grumbled, not at all pleased with the fact that you always insisted on following their rules. 

Your eyes narrowed at her words, a small sigh leaving your lips as you took in Ellie’s annoyed expression. You usually made an effort to not bicker with her over small things but she had been frustrating you more than usual as of late. 

With the way she was constantly ignoring your calls and clearly lying about what she had been doing these past few nights, you knew something was up. You were just as upset as she was and you should’ve bitten your tongue and shoved it down as you usually did, but you just couldn’t. 

“Not all of us can do whatever we want to, Ellie. Don’t try to give me shit just because you don’t have anyone back at home to give you rules to follow” you spat without thinking, your eyes widening the moment the words left your lips. 

It had been almost a year since Ellie’s only father figure, Joel, had been killed, the case never being solved which had left your girlfriend with a massive sense of resentment towards everyone and everything. She rarely opened up about it to you, but you already knew how much it ate away at her. 

It was a low blow but it was all you had in that moment. You just wanted to shut her up or maybe just piss her off enough that she finally explained her strange behavior. Despite your nervous expression, you stood your ground and offered her no apologies for your words. 

Ellie had momentarily gone silent— her lack of response putting you on edge as you awaited her reaction. People continued passing the two of you by as you stood in front of your home, the soft buzz of their conversation sounding far away due to the deafening silence Ellie had left you with. 

Her previous expression already showed her irritation, but once your words finally set in it changed rapidly. A little crease appeared between her brows, her breathing suddenly becoming uneven as she looked down at your unremorseful expression. 

It was a strange sight, as Ellie was always quick to find some hurtful reply to hit you with before you could even blink. She leaned back for a moment as if to take you in before moving in closer, her nails digging into her own palms as she clenched her fists at her sides. 

Your body was tingling with nerves, your eyes darting around every inch of Ellie’s infuriated expression. Her stare alone filled you with guilt and you tried to finally push some sort of apology out, but she was quick to cut you off. 

“You are such a fucking cunt” she spat, the disgust in her tone so prominent that you felt beyond humiliated. Over the course of your relationship with Ellie, you had grown accustomed to her outbursts. Whether it be calling you names or her picking a fight with you for absolutely no reason— she always found a way to piss you off. And yet this time it felt so different, as you had never dared to talk back to her before. 

Ellie backed up after she spoke, her piercing gaze tearing you apart so that you were left feeling embarrassed and exposed as you stood before her. “You always pull shit like this. Someone needs to teach you to stop running your fucking mouth” she said in a low tone, not even giving you a chance to reply before she started walking away from your home so that she could get back to her own. 

For a moment you acted on instinct, taking a small step to follow after her. You snapped out of it after you moved, only letting your eyes trail after her as she moved away. On any other occasion you would have pleaded for her forgiveness, but you were done with putting up with her constant shifts in mood. 

It felt as if you weren’t even in control of your body as you moved towards your home, unlocking the door with a blank expression on your face while your mind ran rampant over how Ellie had spoken to you. She had reacted differently than she usually would, as she had a tendency to raise her voice just to prove a point. And yet, she had kept an eerily calm demeanor as she spoke down to you. 

Some part of you wished she would have yelled or made some sort of empty threat, as her quiet reaction left you feeling nauseous. You knew dwelling on it wouldn’t make it any better, a soft huff leaving your lips as you dropped your bag on the side of the couch so that you could lay down. 

You turned on the television to have some background noise while you checked your phone, the news playing quietly as you fought with yourself on whether or not to text Ellie. Your thumb hovered over her contact, a frustrated groan leaving your lips before you shoved your phone between one of the couch cushions in an attempt to keep yourself from even thinking about speaking to her. 

Ellie was the one who had started all of this— not you. She was the one who had been disappearing for hours on end with pathetic excuses as to where she had been. You didn’t owe her anything, even if you had momentarily slipped up and said something hurtful. She had said absolutely vile things to you countless times and you never reacted the way she did. 

If she really wanted to fix whatever the fuck was happening between the two of you, she would just do it. You couldn’t make excuses for her anymore, as you had grown tired of her constant anger. 

You were a bit dazed as you stared at the screen in front of you, the low volume making it hard for you to understand what they were even saying. It was as if your mental exhaustion was manifesting into something physical, as your eyelids were heavy with the need for sleep. There was no way you could be bothered to close the curtains in your living room, your eyes fluttering closed as you continued to think about Ellie. 

Maybe this was for the best— the relationship you shared with her was anything but sweet. There was always something off about Ellie that you couldn’t quite discern and in all honesty, you were somewhat scared of her. You loved her a little too much and you had spent too long making excuses for her.

This whole argument had blown up in your face, and even as you drifted off you couldn’t help but think about how this was beginning to seem like a means to an end. 

-

Your heart was slamming against your chest as you were abruptly woken up by the loud ringing of your phone sounding throughout the dark living room. The only other noise within the space was the quiet hum of the tv, your eyes flickering towards the bright screen to try and focus on what was playing. 

With squinted eyes you read the breaking news title that read ‘GHOSTFACE STRIKES AGAIN!’ in crimson lettering, the vibrant red and blue police lights flashing on screen as they played a live feed of what was going on. 

The sight alone had you sitting up straight, your phone long forgotten as you scrambled to find the remote. You held down the volume button so that you could turn it up, leaning your body towards the TV as the newscasters described the situation at hand. It was hard to make out the words in your sleepy state, your fist coming up to rub the sleep from your eyes as you did your best to listen. 

You could only make out a few words—- a real life horror movie, another tragedy, gruesome, unlike anything we have seen before, and yet another college student has been lost. All of the words sounded strung together and they left you feeling uneasy, your eyes zeroing in on the screen so that you could get more details that would inevitably lead to you being paranoid all night. 

A shiver ran through your body from how cold the room was, your eyes finally flickering away from the screen so that you were looking at the window closest to where you were sitting. The thin curtains moved with the small breeze that was passing through, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. 

Why can’t you remember opening that window? 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing once more, the sudden disruption making you let out a soft gasp. After you realized what the sound was, you let out somewhat of a nervous laugh at how dramatic you were being over the whole situation. 

There had to be an explanation for the window— as you did have a tendency to be rather forgetful and the phone calls were more than likely just scams. 

Nonetheless, you shifted around so that you could shove your hand between the sofa cushions, finally managing to yank your phone out so that you could find out who was insisting you at such a late hour. You were given no satiation to your curiosity, as you were greeted with the sight of No Caller ID instead of an actual number. 

It still provided you with a sense of relief, although some part of you had been hoping that Ellie was the one who had been so insistent on you picking up her calls. You declined the call, as you had seen too many horror movies thanks to your girlfriend's love for slasher flicks— and you refused to end up like those girls who die within the first 15 minutes since they pick up some unknown phone call. 

You dropped your phone back down onto the couch, doing your best to continue to listen to the news report as you made your way towards the window. Your hands were just about to push the window closed but you were distracted by what sounded like footsteps coming from inside your house. The sound made you whip your head back, your breath picking up within a split second. 

Fear was tingling throughout your entire body, your fingertips suddenly feeling numb as they pressed lightly against the window. The sound had disappeared just as quickly as it had come and for a moment you were able to convince yourself that it had just been some sort of hallucination. You had already been a little paranoid after seeing the latest breaking news and it was halloween time— of course you were bound to scare yourself a bit. 

Just as the tension was leaving your body, the silence was broken by your phone ringing once more. You flinched in the slightest from how startled you were, a quiet curse leaving your lips as you discarded your previous task to grab your phone instead. 

It was another blocked number and you momentarily thought about declining it once more, but curiosity was beginning to get the best of you. Against your better judgment, you accepted the call and pressed your phone against your ear. 

“Hello?” you called out in a meek voice, the quiet sound of breathing on the other side of the line being the only greeting when you first spoke. “Who is this?” the voice questioned, sounding somewhat distorted but you assumed it was just your shitty phone service. “Well who are you trying to reach?” you asked in return, settling down onto the couch. 

A low chuckle sounded from your phone, the person who was speaking to you seeming surprised by your question. “If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you who I’m trying to talk to” the disembodied voice quipped— and for a moment you could have sworn the person's voice was familiar. A light scoff left your lips, far too tired to stay on the phone with a creep who has nothing better to do than bother you. 

“Sorry dude, I think you’ve got the wrong number. Take it easy” you muttered in reply, already pulling your phone away from your ear so that they had no time to respond. You set your phone on the coffee table so that you close the window, your hands slamming down the window harshly enough that the sound of it seemed to reverberate through the eerily silent house for far longer than it should’ve. 

Just as you picked up your phone so that you could head upstairs to get to your bedroom, your phone began to buzz. You were growing frustrated with the calls now, your eyes narrowing as the lack of caller ID made itself known once more. For whatever reason, you picked up the phone once more and you were greeted by what you could only assume was the same voice of the person who was speaking to you before. “Why don’t you want to talk to me?” the voice questioned, their tone sounding a bit mocking which only added to your frustration. “Not a big fan of talking to strangers on the phone” you shot back quickly, your eyes focusing on the stairway that was just a few feet away. 

“There's no way you want to be left alone though” they said calmly, not giving you any space to add another snarky remark before they continued. “I mean, you’re all alone in that big house on the corner. Now that just can’t be safe for a scared little thing like you” they breathed, the words coming out so nonchalant that if you hadn’t been paying attention, you would have missed what was right in front of you. 

Your eyes widened once her words finally set in, your head immediately turning back to look at the window you had closed moments ago. “What did you just say?” you asked in a meek voice, your lips parting in the slightest so you could breathe a bit easier as your heart pounded against your chest. “Do you really need me to repeat myself, princess?” they questioned and this time you knew you had heard this voice before. Their condescending tone was something you had heard countless times, yet who had been the person to speak to you in such a way was barely on the tip of your tongue. 

Within a second of the fear finally taking over every last bit of your body, your finger was roughly pressing against your phone screen to end the call. You dropped your phone back onto the couch as if it was some sort of cursed object, your body seeming to move without your permission as you started rushing to each window you were near to make sure they were locked. It took a moment for you to gain enough courage to peer in the direction of the front door, the lock perfectly in place much to your relief. 

There wasn’t any time to relax, as your phone continued to ring as you moved around your home. It was all too overwhelming, the sound of the television mixing with the sound of your ringtone to create a garbled mess that only added to your already agitated state. You could feel a headache taking form as you practically tiptoed back towards the living room to avoid making an unnecessary noise. 

You knew it was idiotic to pick up a call from someone who practically confessed to knowing where you lived but some part of you was convinced you could still beg them to leave you alone. With shaky movements, you answered the call and backed yourself into the corner of the room so that you wouldn’t have to worry about someone coming up from behind you. 

“It’s a little too late to be making sure the house is all locked up, don’t you think?” the voice began the moment you pressed your phone to your ear, your whole body shaking from the shiver that overtook you. They were in your fucking house— and they were watching you. Before you had picked up the call you had the slightest bit of hope that this person was playing some kind of sick joke, but there was no way they could’ve just guessed what you were doing so easily. “Jeez, you’re already watching my latest hit. You must be a big fan of my work, huh?” they added on, clearly referencing the horrific news story that you had previously been engrossed in. 

Your chest began to heave as they revealed that they were the one person you feared the most, your nerves twisting with your rising frustration to create an awful mix of emotions that tore at your insides. “Listen asshole, my girlfriend is coming over any minute and she will kick your ass!” you lied, practically shouting into the phone although your voice shook in the slightest despite your attempt to sound intimidating. It wasn’t as if the person in your home knew what plans you had for the night, right?

“Oh no, not your girlfriend! I'm so scared” the killer said in a sarcastic tone, seeming completely unphased by your threat. Your brows furrowed at their reply, as you were done being toyed with. You took one final look at your surroundings to ensure there was no ghostly figure that was about to jump out at you before you sprinted towards the kitchen, your gaze landing on the set of large kitchen knives that sat on top of the kitchen counter. 

The space was only lit up by the moon that was shining through the window but you didn’t want to slow down to turn on the lights, your hand reaching for the largest knife and extending it outwards rather clumsily as if it would protect you from the invisible force you were fighting against. “Fuck you” you spat into the phone, already pulling the phone away from your face so that you could call the cops and get the fuck out of the house but your actions were quickly halted. 

“If you hang up on me one more time, I swear to god I will gut you like a fucking fish” they seethed, the threat making your hand tremble in the slightest as you brought the phone to your ear once more. It was as if all those horror movies you watched with Ellie countless times had taught you nothing, as all you could do was stand completely still while every part of your brain screamed at you to run out of the house as fast as you possibly could. 

The moment of silence was filled by the sound of creaking that now sounded as if it was coming from somewhere near you, your breath hitching in your throat as your grip on the large knife tightened. You couldn’t keep up a strong facade any longer, hot tears rolling down your cheeks before you could make any attempt to conceal them. Soft sniffles were all you could offer, as you weren’t exactly sure that speaking first was the best idea after the last words they had spoken to you. 

“Look at you, following my directions nice n’ easy. Your girlfriend must’ve trained you to behave so well” the distorted voice cooed, almost managing to sound truly affectionate. You let out a pitiful cry at the menacing words, the fight between you and Ellie that had occurred earlier in the day filling your mind. If you had just let her come over, none of this would be happening. All you could see was the look of sheer anger that had overtaken Ellie’s features when you had spewed those hurtful words to her and you would give anything to be able to take it all back. Tonight could’ve been spent curled up at her side on the couch with some cheesy horror movie playing on tv but instead, you were living in one. 

You just wanted to hear Ellie’s voice at this moment, to have her tell you what to do to defend yourself. She was always telling you that you needed to be able to fend for yourself but you had never taken her seriously and now you were left with the overwhelming consequence of your actions. The thoughts had consumed you so much that you hadn’t even given a proper reply, although your silence didn’t seem to offend the person on the other side of the phone.

“What? Got nothin’ to say now, baby? I wanted to hear more about that girlfriend of yours but you can’t even speak properly” they muttered in a false tone of disappointment, a small sigh passing their lips before continuing on. “How about we play a little game? If you win, I’ll leave you alone— but if you get it wrong, m’ gonna have to kill you” they spoke in a relaxed tone, making your death sound as if it was going to be nothing more than a chore to them. 

“I don’t want to play any games with you— please, just leave me alone. I won’t tell anyone about this, I swear” you pleaded, hiccups interrupting your words as you continued to cry. You were desperate to stop the tears, as they were blurring your vision further which made it practically impossible to see anything around you as you stood in the dark kitchen. A light scoff sounded from the phone which caused you to jump in the slightest, every little thing now scaring you beyond belief. 

“Well if you really don’t want to play, I’ll just have to kill you. It takes the fun out of it for me but if that's how you want to do it—” the voice began to taunt you once more and you were quick to cut them off, shaking your head feverishly as if they could see you, and in all honesty they probably could see you. “No, I’ll play!” you practically shouted, praying that whatever game they chose would be somewhat fair. 

Your eyes were darting around the dark space around you as if someone would jump out at any moment, your heart beating so harshly against your chest that you were almost positive it would burst through in a few seconds if you didn’t calm down. “Alright, make sure to listen cause I really don’t like repeating myself. There's four closets in your house, so go ahead and guess which one I’m in” they demanded, their confession of being inside already making your blood run cold. 

It was completely unfair to make you think at a time like this, your mind so muddled that you were practically whining at their question. How the fuck were you supposed to know where they were? You knew there was no chance of you making it out alive if you didn’t at least try to guess where they were hiding. It was only a little while ago that you had heard creaking downstairs— or was it upstairs? A frustrated groan left your lips, your shaking hand lowering the knife as you tried to think back to the moment when you had heard it.  

“Upstairs! You’re upstairs in my bedroom closet, the room on the left” you blurted without thinking it through, your eyes widening as you realized you had just taken your life into your own hands. “Ah— so close! But still wrong” they shot back quickly and you were almost positive they were smiling as they spoke. 

You were full blown sobbing now, raising your arm so that the knife was facing away from you once more as you tried to figure out what to do. There was a chance that they were still in the other closet that was upstairs which meant you could hang up on them, call the police, and run like hell before they had the chance to catch up to you. Or they could already be downstairs and there was no time to call the police. You remained silent as the options ran through your mind, the killer never once interrupting your train of thought which you were rather grateful for. 

After what seemed like hours of contemplating every little detail, you took a deep breath in and checked your surroundings one last time. Darkness seemed to consume all that you could see and that only caused your adrenaline to rise further. Your movements were done so quickly that you hadn’t even registered what you were doing until you were ending the call, shoving your phone into your back pocket before you took off towards the front door as quickly as you possibly could. 

You weren’t even wearing any shoes but you couldn’t be bothered to care with your life on the line, the knife you were holding remained in front of you in a defensive manner as you moved through your home. The front door was in your line of sight and it was so close— you could practically feel the cool autumn air that was waiting for you just outside the door. You were so close to being free, your tears continuing to fall but from relief rather than fear. 

This fucked up night could finally be over and you wouldn’t stop running until your lungs gave out on you. All you could think of was Ellie as you reached for the doorknob, already imagining how worried she would be when you told her about everything that happened tonight. Your hand was mere inches from the door, your fingertips barely grazing the cool metal of the doorknob before your motions were disrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. 

The cloaked figure lunged at you the moment they came into view, the sight of the white mask filling you with utter terror as they dragged you away from the door. You were screaming as loud as possible, doing your best to alert your neighbors about what was going on. They were far stronger than you were despite the strength provided by your adrenaline, as they were able to grasp your wrist so that you were unable to make any attempts to swipe at them with the knife you were holding onto. Before you could realize what the killer was doing, they grabbed your phone from your back pocket and slammed it against the ground so that it was reduced to a shattered mess that you were left unable to use. 

You were squirming around relentlessly, trying to free yourself from the bruising grip they had on you. They had gotten you pinned up against the wall to the side of the front door, knocking the last bit of air out of your lungs from how forceful they were being. It had taken an incredible amount of energy for you to finally manage to free one of your wrists from the hold they had on it, although it was devoid of any weapon. 

Your hand raised towards the ghostly mask, half expecting ghostface to kill you right then and there for making an attempt to find out who they really were and yet they made no effort to stop your movements. You finally grasped the bottom of the mask, a pained squeak leaving your lips as their gloved hands dug into your soft flesh to keep you in place. In one swift motion, you managed to pull the mask off completely and you were greeted with a gut wrenching sight. 

“Surprise, baby!” Ellie said in an all too cheery tone, her voice sounding a bit breathy from having to fight to keep you still. Her usually gentle features were splattered with blood, the metallic scent filling your nose due to how close she was to your own face. Her last victim must have gotten her mask off just as she sealed their doom, as that could be the only explanation for how she had managed to become covered in their blood. She must have come straight from her last kill— the one you had just viewed on tv. 

It felt as if your world had just caved in or even exploded, you really couldn’t decide. Finding words after realizing your girlfriend was the one person you should’ve feared the most was a rather hard task, your lips parting countless times to speak and yet no words came out. Your tears had ceased to fall as you took in her slightly amused expression, your shaky hand dropping the mask onto the floor as your mind ran a mile a minute. Despite the overwhelming fear you felt, the sense of betrayal was far too much for you to keep down and it gave you just enough momentum to finally do something. 

“You fucking liar” you spat, thinking of all the times Ellie had insisted that she had simply had her phone on silent or had fallen asleep early when you didn’t hear from her for hours at a time. You had confided in her about the fear you felt about all the murders that were happening in town and she had soothed you each time, insisting that she would be there to protect you if anything were to go wrong. 

All the while, she was the one who had been causing you so many sleepless nights and she was the person who had taken so many innocent lives. A sick smile was beginning to take form on Ellie’s lips after you had spoken and you could already tell she was about to give you some sort of snarky reply. Her grip on you had relaxed ever so slightly since she believed you were too frightened to do anything and you knew this may be your only opportunity to get away from her. 

Just as she was parting her lips to speak to you, you mustered up all your strength to tug your wrist up enough so that your hand that was still gripping the knife could make contact with her skin. You couldn’t reach very far due to her quickly realizing what you were trying to do, a grunt leaving her lips as she attempted to keep you still but she was too late. With a quick movement, you were able to make a swipe at her arm that was still making an attempt to hold you, blood rushing to the surface of her skin within the blink of an eye. 

Ellie released you once the warm liquid began to drip down her arm, instinctively bringing a hand up to cover her wound before she could think about what she was doing. You didn’t wait to get her full reaction, sliding from where she had you pinned against the wall and running as if your life depended on it— and at this moment, it really did. Soft whimpers left your lips as you desperately tried to think of somewhere to hide before she caught up with you, your hand taking hold of the door leading into the garage the second she began calling out your name. 

You hid behind the door, the knife still held tightly in your right hand while you clasped your other over your own mouth. Keeping your breaths quiet seemed almost impossible but you couldn‘t risk having any slip ups. The door was left slightly ajar on purpose, as you needed to be able to see Ellie as she moved throughout the house so you could make sure she was out of the way before you tried to get back to the front door. 

Her cloaked figure was moving slowly, your name leaving her lips tauntingly as she suppressed the pained groans she so desperately wanted to let out. You had managed to cut her fairly deep and the blood soaking into her cheap halloween costume was direct proof of that. “Get out here you fucking coward” she seethed, her head whipping back towards your direction when you accidentally let out a sound of surprise at her loud voice booming throughout the home. 

Your eyes widened at the realization of your mistake, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily as if it would make Ellie disappear completely. “If you come out now, I promise to play nice” she lied in a sickeningly sweet tone, her eyes narrowing as she got closer towards the very door you were standing behind. Her footsteps were heavy as she made her way towards you, your eyes beginning to well with tears once more as she got closer. For a moment you couldn’t tell what she was doing, as she had stopped so she could take off the black cloak completely. Wearing only a black tank top and jeans, you could now see that her body was littered with bruises, the gash you had just given her smudging her arm a dark red from her cloak pressing against her skin. 

Ellie had been wearing her hoodies constantly these last few weeks but you hadn’t thought anything of it, as the chilly weather was enough to explain it away. But it explained why she had been keeping her clothes on the last few times she had managed to get you alone, always insisting that she just wanted to make you feel good. She would have you completely bare while she remained fully covered and you had never even given it a second thought. You wished that you would’ve paid more attention to all the signs pointing to her being the culprit, yet there was no way you could have ever guessed that she would even be capable of such heinous crimes. 

After taking in her injured form, you watched her hand move towards her back pocket so she could pull something out. You could see something else that was tucked in the back of her jeans but you didn’t have enough time to get a look at it, as the sound of her switchblade flicking open had you focusing your attention back on her hand that now wielded the weapon. You felt as if the breath in your lungs was being stolen from you, your body backing up slightly so you could press yourself against the wall in the hopes that she wouldn’t see you. 

Just as she was reaching for the doorknob, a noise cut through the silence that sounded like a dish clattering. You did your best to not make a single sound as she turned away from you, clearly believing that you were the one who had made the noise. For a second you believed fate was finally on your side, as one of the dishes in the sink must have slipped just enough to get her distracted. “I’ve got you now” she taunted, swiftly making her way towards the kitchen. 

A quiet breath of relief left your lips once she was out of sight, your hand moving away from your lips so that you could take in a few gulps of air before making any sudden moves. Now that you could no longer see her, you could only assume her position in the house, her footsteps sounding far enough for you to open the door a bit wider. Your eyes darted in the direction of the staircase that was just down the hall, your heart pounding in your ears as you tried to decide if it was actually even possible for you to get upstairs without alerting her. 

You would rather go for the front door but that had already proven to be the wrong move and she would already expect that from you. After a moment of contemplation, you drew in a deep breath that seemed to cause your whole body to shake before you carefully pulled open the door and bolted towards the stairs before you could overthink it. 

You could spot your room as you reached the bottoms of the stairs, your body momentarily relaxing as you continued to rush as quickly and quietly as possible. You were so close— so close to being able to get away from whatever nightmare this was. 

And yet, just as you reached the bottom of the steps, an uncaring hand tugged you back by your hair. The cry you let out was pitiful, your head spinning as you tumbled to the ground. You already knew what had happened but that didn’t lessen the blow of having to see Ellie right above you, using her knee to keep the rest of your body held down as she kept a tight hold on your wrists. 

“You really are a fucking idiot, you know that?” she seethes, her chest heaving just the same as yours is. Crying would be futile at a time like this so you look up at her with nothing but betrayal and resentment. “Fuck you” you seethe, although your words only make her smile brightly. “Aw no, baby. We already played that game, remember?” she asks teasingly. You hated her more each time she opened her mouth and you wanted nothing more than to smack that stupid fucking smile off her face. 

“W— why are you doing this?” you ask abruptly, your eyes scanning her features for even the slightest bit of regret and yet you came up empty. The question makes her scoff, as she couldn’t believe that was what you chose to ask at a time like this. “You’re so unoriginal” she huffs, although her grip on your wrist falters as she begins to speak. “You should know already” she continues on, her eyes remaining focused on your fearful expression. 

“No one took his death seriously— no one. So why does everyone suddenly care when a bunch of asshole kids from a college get killed off, huh?” she begins, and you already know she is referencing Joel’s abrupt death. “I figured I’d give those cops something to do since all they’ve done is sit on their asses… those fucking bastards” she says, so lost in her confession that she doesn’t even feel the way you easily slip your wrist from her grasp and before she takes notice, you use all the strength you could muster to smack her, not giving two shits as to why she felt she had the right to harm others. 

The hit makes her groan, her head turning from the force of it as her whole body weakens for a brief moment, just long enough for you to shove her off of you and make another run for your bedroom. You could hear Ellie screaming meaninglessly as you sprinted for your life towards your bedroom, the sound of her footsteps right behind you making it hard to breathe. 

There was no time to slam the door before she got a hold on you again and she was going to make sure you knew she wasn’t fucking around this time. You were about to scream just to call attention to the house in case any neighbors happened to hear but you were quickly cut off when you felt a cool metal press against the side of your head. 

She had a fucking gun— that was what you had seen tucked in her jeans earlier. 

You felt as if your lungs were giving out, soft pleas beginning to fall from your lips as your body trembled in her hold. “Not so tough now, huh?” she questions, guiding you towards your plush bed and shoving you down on it, watching as you look up at her with teary eyes as she keeps the gun pointed at your head. 

The sight of you being reduced to such a pathetic sight made something blossom in Ellie’s chest, a sick sense of pride. She tucked the weapon into the back of her jeans before slowly crawling into bed with you, her body straddling your own as she looks down at you curiously. You can’t speak even if you try, the words dying in your throat as you watch her pull out her switchblade instead. 

She seems to relax, although you are tensing with each passing second as she brings the sharpened blade closer to your skin. You shake your head repeatedly, trying to reason with her. “Please— please don’t kill me” you begin to beg, the words leaving your lips countless times before they finally invoke a response from her. “Oh, angel. I don’t want to kill you. Just wanted to have some fun with you but then you had to make a big fuss, didn’t you?” she asks, her voice so soothing that you could feel your rational mind slipping away. 

“You really hurt me, baby” she sighs, beginning to use her blade to slice through the fabric of your top effortlessly. You whimper, a bit too loud for her liking. “Shut the fuck up” she snaps, cutting into the band of your bra next, her rough hand messily tugging the ruined material to the side so she could get a perfect view of your tits. You felt all too exposed, your frown deepening as you looked up at her. 

“So, are you gonna apologize for being so disrespectful?” she questions as she pushes up the material of your skirt, her blade catching on your panties. “Sorry” you mutter, squirming since her blade was uncomfortably close to your skin. Ellie’s patience was wearing, a low huff leaving her lips as she cut into the fabric. “Stop fucking moving!” she says exasperatedly, the loud words causing your body to still at once. 

She sighs as she pulls the thin fabric away from your body, her eyes shamelessly focusing on your cunt, her hand carelessly shoving your thighs further apart. “Say it like you mean it” she demands, not at all impressed. Her words make you burn with shame, your mind racing as she brings her hand closer to your cunt that was beginning to become embarrassingly wet. 

Just as your words began, her blade dug into your lower tummy in the slightest, barely enough to draw blood. “I’m sorry, Ellie! I didn’t mean it, I swear” you plead in a rushed voice, trying to focus on not moving at all so her blade wouldn’t push deeper into the soft skin of your stomach. Your chest heaved against your will and you were almost positive that this was the end for you, 

Seeing you all teary eyed and frightened made Ellie dizzy with power and she finally pulled away the blade, tucking it into her pocket before giving you a little kiss on your lips, not at all caring that you didn’t even have time to react to the action. “Was that so hard, sweet girl? Can’t believe you made me hurt you” she says with a mocking pout. 

All you can do is try to control your breathing, no longer attempting to struggle under the weight of her body. You knew your life was in danger but Ellie’s presence made it impossible for you to have any sort of rationality. 

“C’mere” she mutters calmly, finally scooting back so that you could sit up. She could already tell she had gotten you right where she wanted you so she felt no concern about letting you sit up for the time being. She carelessly removed your torn clothes so that you were finally completely bare for her. 

She couldn’t help herself, as her hand naturally lowered to deliver a few rough slaps against your tits. You flinched, the pain spreading quickly and making you huff a bit. It was hard not to be ashamed when you were completely nude and she was still fully clothed. Not to mention the fact that you were willingly allowing a ruthless killer to see you like this. 

No words were spoken as she laid you back down, not paying you any mind as she lowered herself so she could settle between your legs. You knew better than to move at this point, so you settled for raising your head in the slightest bit so you could peek down at her. 

Ellie didn’t bother to meet your gaze, her rough hands moving against your soft skin as she made sure you would be unable to press your thighs together. “Els…” you began, unsure of what you were even going to say. You didn’t even have the option to finish your sentence, as in the blink of an eye you could feel her warm breath against your cunt. 

You flinched involuntarily as she pressed a messy kiss to your sensitive clit, her tongue flattening to lick a stripe against your slit afterwards. She only backed away to speak a few simple words. “Just keep your mouth shut” she muttered before returning to her previous movements. 

The way her tongue sloppily moved against you showed a desperation you had never seen before, although the grip she had on your hips was proof of the anger that still lingered. You clasped your hand over your mouth, your brows knitting as you focused on how she would take little breaks to focus on sucking on your puffy bud. 

Your shaky hips rocked against her mouth, her own moans filling the room as she took in your sweet taste. “You gonna let me open you up?” she asks ever so calmly, allowing her middle finger to press into your slick cunt so she could fuck you with it. 

You were growing dizzy with a combination of guilt and pleasure, tears of frustration forming as she fucked you open. “Does it feel good, baby?” she asks, raising her head so she could look at your pathetic expression. You look at her for a moment, unsure if you were actually allowed to speak. 

The sight of your unsure gaze made Ellie grin in the slightest, not giving any warning as she pushed a second finger into you. “S’ fine, I wanna hear you” she says, granting you the permission you had been seeking out. Your muscles relaxed as you were finally allowed to let out small moans, your tears now aimlessly streaming down your face. 

“Mhmm,  I can feel it so deep” you whisper, curses slipping out as you press your head back against your bed. Your small movements quickly became erratic, your body writhing as endless pleasure built. “Need to cum, please” you beg, as something tightening in your lower tummy told you that you were getting close. 

“Not yet, we haven’t even gotten to the fun part” she hums, not caring about the shocked expression that took over your features. She halted the thrusting of her fingers to pull them out, your arousal still sticky against her skin. 

You momentarily believed that she had no intentions of letting you get off and you simply couldn’t bear the thought after all you had been through tonight. You needed to feel release, sooner rather than later. 

“I’ll do anything” you say quickly, your words so rushed that they almost don’t make sense to Ellie. Her eye refocus on you as she takes a moment to decipher what you had said, a smile making itself known as she reaches for an item still tucked into the back of her jeans. 

“I know you will” she quips, finally revealing what she had been reaching for. Ellie loved how heavy the gun felt in her hand and it offered her a sense of control she had never felt previously. Your heart nearly leapt out of your throat, your muscles aching from how harshly you were tensing up. 

The way you feverishly shook your head made you momentarily nauseous and you uttered the only words you could think of. “Please— don’t hurt me, I love you” you say breathlessly, feeling hurt at the way Ellie was quick to mutter a mocking version of your words. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you unless you make me” she states nonchalantly, inching the gun closer to your cunt but not before taking the time to spit directly on your pussy to ensure you wouldn’t be in too much pain from the stretch. 

You feel powerless as she finally presses the cool steel against your slit, the sound of her low voice reverberating inside your mind. “Make sure to keep still. You don’t want me accidentally pulling the trigger now, do you?” she asks with a sick smile. 

The two of you already know your answer so you don’t bother with a verbal reply, instead you close your eyes tightly and brace yourself. 

The barrel of the handgun eases into your cunt and you are thankful that she had the decency to make sure you were slick enough to take the weapon. Although that’s not to say that there wasn’t any pain, as low grunts were quick to leave your lips from how thick it was. 

“Keep taking it, just like that” she coos, now beginning to properly fuck you with it. You had fallen weak to your desires, as it dawned on you that you were truly nearing your orgasm due to the fact that you were being fucked with a gun. The thrusts were deep and fast, your moans becoming borderline screams as your pleasure continuously built. 

The barrel had grown warm from being within you and the way you were crying Ellie’s name let her know that you were on the brink of your climax. “Do it. Cum on my gun like the filthy girl you are” she mutters, rubbing your clit in time with the thrusts of the weapon. 

And you didn’t need to be told twice, as with one loud cry, you had reached your orgasm. Ellie felt pride swell within her chest as she saw the white ring of your slick that had formed at the end of the barrel. 

She eased the weapon out of your before using her tongue to shamelessly clean up the mess you had made on her weapon of choice. You were barely coherent, the exhaustion of all the fighting you had done catching up with you as well as the fact that your adrenaline was wearing off. 

You didn’t even notice as she stood above you, phone in hand as she took a flash photo of your worn down state. Once the light made you squint, you could hear her voice right next to your ear but you couldn’t even see her. 

“You tell anyone about what I did, I swear to god this picture will be plastered everywhere so everyone knows how much you love getting fucked by sickos. And if you ever talk back to me again, I’ll blow your brains out before you can even finish your sentence” she whispers. 

By the time you can see clearly again, she is gone, leaving you to clean up the mess she had made. But even with her gone, you swore you could still feel her eyes on you and you knew once and for all, there was no way she would ever let you get away from her. 

[the-void-via]

TW: TALK OF GUNS, INJURES FROM GUNS, DEATH, ANDROID GORE IG?

Second part of my Rota Fortunea fic!

“The leader of the resistance, Sunday, was found dead fifteen system hours ago. Forensic experts have deduced the cause of death to be a gunshot wound to the head. However, upon finding the gun at the crime scene, only Sunday's fingerprints were found on it. Law enforcement is investigating the crime scene-”

Ratio shut the TV off with a grumble, glaring at his reflection in the dark screen. He set the remote down and turned to the nearby table, Aventurine’s sleeping body laying atop it.

He glanced at Ruan Mei and Herta. Oil stained their hands, working on hooking Aventurine up to a power source before they worked on fixing him. He—reluctantly—stayed a few feet back, after both women had practically ripped the android from his arms when he walked through the door.

Barely a word had been exchanged between the women and Ratio, putting all their attention and focus into Aventurine. He could do little but stand back, peering over their shoulders from time to time to try and check their progress.

Ruan Mei moved, allowing Ratio a clear view of Aventurine’s face-

He cringed. Some layers of machinery had been stripped away near his right eye, leaving a red LED light to stare back at him. His eyes drifted, the metal of his neck slight exposed–

He turned away. It was too much to bear. Seeing someone who used to be his friend– no. The man he loved in such a state killed him inside. He moved to sit down, sighing heavily.

“Don't move much,” Ruan Mei softly scolded, not even turning to look at him. “You sustained three gunshot wounds from Sunday. You don't want them to open.”

He grumbled a little bit, muttering something under his breath as a reply. Ruan Mei didn’t say anything else, fully focused on the android laying atop the table in front of her.

Herta was no different, the only indication of her presence being her soft mutterings to herself, working with Ruan Mei as if they had some telepathic connection they were communicating through.

It was unnerving, to say the least. The silence in the room.

Ratio sighed again and leaned against the chair, staring up at the ceiling. His body relaxed into the chair; the adrenaline had long worn off, slowly being replaced with exhaustion. He fought it as long as he could, fought to keep his eyes open- but his body knew he was safe.

His eyes started to slip closed, hoping for just a little cat nap…it sounded nice at this point…

…

Knock, knock, knock. …knock-knock!

His body jerked, sitting up straight in the chair. The two geniuses had made progress on Aventurine, he deduced they were just over halfway in connecting him to a power source- but that wasn't the priority at the moment.

Someone knocked on the door.

Herta had walked away from the table, leaving Ruan Mei to continue for a moment by herself. She turned to look at Ratio as she heard the chair jerk, her expression unreadable.

“You're awake.” She said bluntly.

“W- ahem- what was that?” He asked, rubbing his eyes. “That knock. Is it-”

“Thank you, Miss Herta,” A voice—definitely not Herta’s—came from the hallway she had disappeared down a moment ago. “I'm sorry to inconvenience you at a time like this. I had a run-in with a few androids above ground, and I just need a few tune-ups on my arm–”

A male figure, clad in a dusty dark pink cloak, walked into the room at Herta’s side. He pulled his hood back, his hair dyed pink with long, white roots. Deep crimson eyes scanned the room as he stopped dead in his tracks, blinking at the two new figures.

“Oh.” He mumbled in surprise. “There's other men here. That's…intriguing.”

“Never mind them,” Herta shooed him to another table, aiding him in sitting atop it. “You said you need me to fix your arm? Which one?”

The man shed his cloak, revealing himself to be wearing a tight black tank top, as well as black shorts with knives tucked inside harnesses. He carefully extended a mechanical arm, using his other hand to point to his elbow. “This one, the joints got busted up real bad. I was afraid it would fall off before I got here.”

Ratio’s eyes widened upon seeing him. His arms and legs were very visibly mechanical, white metal with elegant dark pink accents. His stomach almost sank upon the realization.

Another android?

“Wow, Shilou,” Herta mused, taking his arm into her hands and examining his joint. “This is really badly damaged. You really are lucky it didn't fall off on the way.”

“I know,” Shilou chuckled a little. “Thank you again, Miss Herta. Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you? Any materials you need? I can't keep letting you fix me without any sort of payment-”

“Excuse me,” Ratio’s voice cut him off, his arms folded across his chest in an almost standoffish manner. “Who are you?”

Tags: @havanillas @serendipminie @blak-ie @blackcat2907 @drowning-in-cabbages @lumin-arii @kyl13sm1l3y @darkluminosity @smellofsnoww (lmk if you wanna be tagged or not when I post about my oc's!)

[uncannydevotion]

Can you do toby, hoodie, and masky being instructed to kill their s/o by slender? Would they actually go through with it?

a/n: picture me rubbing my hands together evilly upon reading this request okay. this is so so so short but i felt like it would drag on if i made it any longer im sorry </3 but i hope you enjoy it!! thanks for the request, i love angst <3

warnings: major character death in tobys part!! murder, attempted murder, blood, descriptive death, memory loss, overall everyone has a bad time, but hoodie is like... vibing. also not proofread im incapable of rereading things i write.

MASKY

It's certainly not an order he intends on following, but he's well aware that he's susceptible to Slender's influence, so he's not quiet sure how to avoid it.

The only one of the three to actually try and negotiate with Slender. You weren't a threat to anyone, let alone it. He didn't understand why the being was hellbent on getting him to kill you, especially since it knew that he loved you.

And that's just the reason.

He loved you, so you were a distraction. You were a weakness, and Slender doesn't take well to its proxies having weaknesses.

But it was a reasonable being. For Masky, at least. The man was logical, so they saw eye to eye a fair amount of times. He had yet to go against any of his other orders, so Slender was willing to negotiate.

Its terms? Masky would have to cut all contact with you and your memory of him would have to be taken so to ensure you wouldn't try finding him. And in exchange, you would get to keep your life.

Now, obviously, he didn't want that. Masky loved you, so why would he ever want to part ways with you? Almost as if to show him what would happen if he didn't accept its terms, Slender caused the man to black out, and when he came to...

He was in your bedroom, standing over your bed as you slept, a gun pointing at you. His finger was on the trigger, and he quickly dropped the gun before anything could happen.

The thought of you dying, the reality of living in a world without you in it, was enough to make him agree to Slender's terms. Masky disappeared from your life, and your memory of him went with.

Though he remembered you. A sick form of punishment, perhaps, for falling in love. He remembered everything about you.

HOODIE

Hoodie is, out of the three, the one most likely here to blatantly disobey Slender without fear of consequence. Though Slender is technically his boss, he's not the type to blindly follow orders unless they make sense to him.

No amount of punishment has been able to break him, but he's too valuable of a proxy for Slender to rid of him.

When the order first comes to his mind, he almost laughs from the sheer absurdity of it.

He does not care what reason the entity might have for wanting you dead. Hoodie loved you, so he would not kill you. And should Slender try getting one of the other proxies to try and kill you, Hoodie is not against harming them.

His loyalties lie with you, first and foremost.

You are one of the very few things in his life that brings him joy, there's just literally no way in hell he'll let anything take that away from him. Not even his evil eldritch boss can force him away from you.

And unlike Masky, he won't distance himself from you. He's... pretty selfish, to be honest. His very presence puts you in harms way, and you might have people actively trying to murder you from now on but don't worry!!

He'll keep you safe, trust him.

TICCI TOBY

The only one here who will actually kill you. He doesn't want to, believe me. Toby will actively go out of his way to try and defy Slender like Hoodie, even, but he is the entity's most loyal proxy, so it's a short battle.

Toby's loyalty to the faceless being runs deeper than anything else, even his love for you. If Slender wants him to kill someone, then he will.

But he doesn't kill you willingly, if that makes you feel any better. Toby ignores the order for as long as he can, until Slender runs out of patience. And when it does, it will hound Toby with endless static and agonizing pain, punishment for disobeying its orders.

It will break Toby down, and once it's sure that Toby can't disobey it again, Slender will demand he kill you. And this time, in a mindless haze, Toby does it.

Maybe he thinks he's killing someone else, your screams and cries falling upon deaf ears as he slams his hatchets into you over and over again under you could no longer be recognized, your blood staining his clothes and skin.

Toby won't remember you. You were a weakness that had to be purged, so Slender ensured that every memory he had of you was repressed. But even so, there's this aching feeling in his chest. As if he was missing something important, something he can't quite place.

He mourns you, and yet he can't even remember you. He just feels... anguish, for some reason.

[marsvs-thesun]

Had a similar experience after I failed to kill myself

Basically Ive gone to hide in a woody area and after figuring out I couldn't do knots, failing at my backup plan and having a proper honest to God mental breakdown, the only thing left for me to do is the Walk Of Shame back home.

It's night and for autism reasons the thought of walking into a light is unbearable, so as when I get off the path and find a streetlight I cant just creep around, I just kinda stand there for a second.

So Im trying to convince myself that I 1) want to go home and 2) care enough to not go back and finish the job, and Im just staaaaring at the streetlight when I hear someone gasp.

Now, I just tried to commit death in the woods. Im hunched over, rocking back and forth, sobbing/hissing occasionally, there's probably leaves in my hair. I cant speak, I can barely move. Im exhausted so my body is visibly shaking. I'm hiding from the light. Im exceptionally zombie-like. Incidentally, there are two 7-ish girls on the other side of the road looking terrified.

I stop moving. They stop moving. We just stare at each other until my phone (no pockets! Shaking hands!) falls on the floor.

Girl 1 screams. Girl 2, who would probably survive any horror movie, throws her shoes at my face. They run away screaming.

So that should be the end of that. Except. There's now a little girl somewhere on this road barefoot. And the road is disgusting. And I have her shoes on my face in my hands. If I do nothing she's gonna get the black plague or something. My brain 180s from "light bad death good" to "must protecc" and I shamble go after them.

Ill pass the 20 something minutes of zombie action that follow cause frankly it was a super traumatic event and not all of it stuck in brain but when I found them again, the girls had gathered their grandma and I was in the light and thus much less frightening. I still had to put the shoes on the floor and step back like one would to surrender a gun, but they got the shoes back, their grandma explained i was a person having a bad day and I got to go home and not be arrested.

Happy endings all around, but I hope they don't remember me.

Imagine going on a walk on a really foggy day, enjoying the vaguely eerie, faint and distant aesthetic of it all, and the soft quiet of having no other people around. You're about to cross a familiar bridge when you suddenly feel lightheaded. It's nothing to worry about, just a weirdly wobbly feeling that means you should sit down. And probably get more iron in your diet. Either way, you need to get up and you need to cross this bridge to get home. But now being alone has put this weird fear in you - irrational or not - that if you walk over the bridge, you might get dizzy again and fall from it.

Weird and lonely problems require weird and lonely solutions. Since you're all alone here anyhow, you can act strange if you need to. So you get down on all fours - not on your hands and knees, but on the balls of your feet, like a dog. And like this, you start to slowly creep over the bridge. Nice and slow, happy about your solution that made it feel safe to cross and get home. You can be weird if you want to, nobody's judging here.

You're creeping at a comfortable speed, very slowly, but the bridge isn't that long. You can kind of make out the outlines of things on the other side through the mist. The end of the bridge, a familiar tree, a streetlamp, the silhouette of a bush and-

A person. A human figure. You freeze mid-step to stare. That is the most definitely the outline of a person, standing perfectly still. Staring right at you. You don't know how long this moment lingers, but eventually you can't hold your balance anymore and you have to step forward, placing your open palm back on the cold damp bridge. The figure turns, and takes off running. Bolting off in a very normal, startled way that anyone would when they're spooked.

It occurs to you that you only saw the vague outline of an unexpected person, an obscure figure standing in the fog. They, however, saw the vague outline of you, something perhaps vaguely human-shaped, but moving in a way that people simply do not, slowly, very slowly, creeping over a bridge.

Assuming that nobody would see you, you accidentally became someone's unexplained Silent Hill experience.

[utilitycaster]

something that struck me from some of the really good tags on this post (specifically the "tall kings") one is that most arguments against the gods or for the benefit of Predathos rely on real-world metaphors that just...don't really fit very well, and it might just be that this isn't something for which one can draw a real world metaphor, but might actually have to conceive a world that is fundamentally different than ours. The gods aren't tall kings; "destroying the throne" does not mean a coup. It means their deaths; and yes, to state the obvious a coup against a monarchy frequently involves assassinating the monarch, but it's telling that the language is carefully skirting around that. You cannot destroy the throne or remove the crown or have the gods step down in any peaceful manner; both the Matron and Arch Heart agree this only happens if the threat of Predathos is unleashed.

And Predathos. Setting aside the connotations of assigning the idea of wild deer to sentient beings, the "reintroduction of the natural predator" metaphor collapses on several points. The first is that equating "became deities, who, as the post linked above points out and per general lore, are explicitly not able to run rampant anymore". The second is that Predathos is not a wolf that once lived on Exandria but is just as foreign to the world as the gods themselves. While I reject the metaphor entirely for the initial reasons stated, it is worth keeping in mind that if you do need it as a scaffolding on which to hang foreign concepts, Predathos is less the wolf population and more a family of tigers or cheetahs: just as much an invasive species, with an impact on the environment

I think these are two major issues that need to be addressed in any conversation:

Predathos has been adopted and mythologized by several party members who are actually much more concerned about the titans, who are dead. Killing the gods will not bring back the titans. I feel this metaphor is sort of falling into that same trap; this is not a return of something native to this world.

On some level, while I understand the use of real-world metaphors to comprehend a fantasy world from a lens of familiarity - I do this as well! - I think if we cannot have a discussion that starts with "what if Predathos is in fact the embodiment of a cosmic, unending, merciless hunger that cannot be changed and cannot be swayed and can only be sealed, killed, or given free rein" we cannot have a discussion at all. I think it's necessary to acknowledge we're talking about a game that gives you a space to explore an idea as if it were physical, and which might not be able to be told within the bounds of real-world experience.

This of course also doesn't address the ongoing issue of "whether or not Bells Hells actions towards Predathos and the outcome ends up being in the moral right, the road to get here was structurally unsound and the party did not go in with the intent of doing anything specific whatsoever and indeed faltered for the most part when asked by the main villain what they wanted." Again, I don't care if Bells Hells are heroes or villains or something in between, but they don't seem to be anything or have any shared intention as a group, which I've discussed already here. But if you do want to argue that releasing Predathos could be good, I think it's necessary to have a coherent argument there, and be able to address "what if it's really fucking bad" if we're moving into the realm of the speculative. "What if this change that comes at the end of mass death might be better for the world but I have no proof" is not a very convincing argument. It is, in fact, one of the only ones Bells Hells has made a compelling case against.

[farfromstrange]

One Soul | Matt Murdock x Reader

Matt Murdock Masterlist

Summary: Matt gets hurt, badly, so you have to do the one thing you promised him you wouldn't: take him to a hospital.

Warnings: Angst, life-threatening injury, blood, temporary Major Character Death (he comes back, don't worry), mentions of CPR, religious imagery, conflicted relationship with religion, Reader is described as an atheist but Mad At God, prayer, hurt/comfort

A/n: This is a little angst piece I came up with yesterday. For me, personally, my atheism isn't always black and white. I know I don't believe in God, but I have found myself cursing him in the past because it was easier than cursing something I did not understand (like the death of a loved one). And I just know that being with Matt, chances are he will get himself hurt badly enough one day to the point he has to be brought to the hospital.

Read Me On AO3!

The heart monitor beside the bed signals at a steady eighty beats per minute. You follow the many lines of tubing from the machines to his frail body, your eyes lingering on the purple bruises adorning his pale skin—deadly pale, it is. 

His cheeks, once so full of life, are hollow now. His eyes are swollen, his pretty lips cut, and there is blood stuck to his hair, still, soaking through the bandage they applied. You’ve never seen him so broken, so utterly weak and fragile that you wouldn’t dare touch him. The tears refuse to stop falling. 

Years ago, you made a promise. You promised never to take him to a hospital, to protect his identity and him. Hell, he survived the collapse of Midland Circle, albeit with a scattered mind. He had broken bones and a broken spirit, locked away at Clinton Church for weeks, and still, he survived.

Tonight though, for the first time, you felt his heart stop. It wasn’t one of those ghastly nightmares that have been plaguing you ever since you locked Fisk away and he finally came back to you. It wasn’t a product of your imagination; you felt his heart stop. Hands covered in blood, you watched as the life drained from his eyes and he breathed out without breathing in again. 

You swear you can still feel his ribs breaking underneath your fingertips. “Don’t do this to me,” you cried. “Don’t you dare do this to me, Matthew! I can’t lose you. Please, come back. Come back!”

And you prayed to a God you don’t believe in not to take him from you. You begged for a chance to hear his heartbeat again, just one last time even if it kills you. 

You looked to the sky and swore you’d make a deal with the devil if you had to. You’d do anything for this man; this reckless, stupid force of a man you are so in love with that it hurts sometimes. You would’ve let God crucify you for the whole world to see just to get a chance to look at your beloved Matthew one last time, to know he’s alive. And perhaps God did answer your prayers, or maybe the CPR you’d never done before did its trick for he suddenly took a breath, and his heart started beating again.

You cried over his body like Mary over Jesus. You shielded him as if that would heal him, and he clung to you when he realized what had happened. He coughed, and he was bleeding, and you were paralyzed with the fear of losing him again.

What else were you to do but take him to a place where he could be fixed? If you hadn’t brought him here, he would have died. You shouldn’t feel guilty. It wasn't selfish. Yet, the fire within you keeps burning, and your soul keeps hurting as you watch him like a hawk, wondering what he’ll think of you once he wakes up—if he wakes up. 

“I know I’m not… religious,” you murmur, eyes directed at the ceiling now. “I’m not a good Catholic, far from it. I’ve done things… well, you know. And I don’t pray. Matt prays. I don’t,” you say. “I just wanna understand why.”

Another tear rolls down your cheek. The coil in your throat is tight enough to strangle the air from your lungs. One of the shards of your broken heart is stuck, and now you’re bleeding. Your soul is laid bare for everyone to see. 

It’s pathetic, you think, for an atheist to pray. Because you don’t believe, you never have. Matt believes. He has faith. You’re just… angry? Yes, you are furious, and even more now than ever you feel like it’s all a lie. Where’s the hope? Where’s the faith now?

“Why do you keep letting bad things happen to him?” you ask, your voice breaking. “All he’s ever done is try to please you because he thinks you gave him some kind of purpose. That accident… he thinks it happened for a reason. Going blind, losing every one. After all the hardships and the trouble he got himself into, he thinks he’s some kind of soldier. Even when he was at his lowest and stopped believing, he eventually came back to you. Like a dog on a leash.” 

If Matt heard you, he’d be deeply offended. Religion is so important to him, but tonight, he almost died. He almost died before, but it never felt as real as it did tonight, and the thought haunts you like a restless ghost. 

“I want to be supportive, I do. I mean, everyone’s beliefs are valid, in a way, but it almost killed him tonight. If you’re up there—if you’re truly listening—how can you just let that happen to someone you claim to love, God? I don’t–” You shake your head. “I just don’t understand.”

The heart monitor keeps beeping. The lights keep flickering. His chest keeps rising. No answer. The disappointment cuts you deep. Is there perhaps a part of you that does want to believe? Or are you just looking for someone, something, to blame? Instead of the men who did this to him, instead of the men who quite literally took him apart, you’re turning to the one thing you can’t touch. But you know it’s not what Matt would want. He’d want you to have hope.

How does one go about that when everything seems to be going wrong? When your very heart is lying in a hospital bed? How does even an atheist not curse God out of pure and utter desperation? 

Matt lets out a soft groan, and your eyes flick to him. Your heartbeat accelerates at the same time as his. 

“Matt?” you ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed.

He stirs. Every muscle and bone in his body is filled with a dull ache. First dull, then sharp. The stitches in his abdomen pull at the tender flesh with every breath that fills his lungs, the oxygen so rich and concentrated it almost sets him alight. The plastic tubes weigh heavy on his nostrils. 

His eyes pulsate, and there is this obnoxiously loud beeping in his ear. It’s screaming, almost. Beep, beep, beep. Faster and faster, and faster. But his eyelids are so heavy he can’t open them. There’s nothing but fire, and for a moment he forgets that he hasn’t been able to see for decades. 

In his head, he’s eight years old again, his head wrapped with a bandage that itches his skin so terribly, and the world around him screaming. It’s the same room, it seems, cold and dark and terrifying. 

Matt reaches for his eyes, fingers brushing against the bruises that resemble the shape of a fist—no light. He can taste copper on his tongue. The beeping gets louder and his ears are ringing, and why is the blanket made of sandpaper? He wants to tear the skin off his weary bones.

“I can’t–” he breaks off at the foreign sound of his voice. Another trace of his fingertips against the bruised skin. “I can’t see,” he chokes out.

“Matt!” you say a little louder, your hand finally touching his, and it’s as if the bubble he’s in bursts. 

He recognizes your voice. He remembers he’s blind. He remembers going out last night and kissing you goodbye. He was in good spirits then. But something went wrong. Somehow, his opponent had weaponry that could easily break through the protective material of his suit. He stood no chance against the number of men coming at him. They sliced and they hit, and he thought he saw God, but it was just the swinging ceiling light inside the abandoned factory building. It smelled of mold and water. 

He fought until he couldn’t bear it anymore. Until the opportunity to flee presented itself, and so Matt crawled home to you. With every last ounce of strength, he honored his promise to always come back home to you. 

He doesn’t remember much more, only falling down the stairs to the rooftop access to the living room. The crash. Your gasp. Your heartbeat. And then, nothing. Nothing but the comfort of darkness. 

“Hey,” you smile through your tears, “It’s me. You’re okay.”

He whispers your name, and you squeeze his hand.

“I’m here. Try not to move,” you tell him. “You’re at Metro General.”

The word makes his breath stutter. “The hospital?” he inquires.

“Yes. You were hurt… badly. They had to take out your spleen. Fifty-something stitches. Some brain swelling. I don’t know, it’s a lot.” 

“I told you,” he grunts, “no hospitals.”

Matt Murdock is not an ungrateful man. However, his words cut deep. You can’t take much more.

“You promised, no–”

“You died!” you cry out. The echo bounces off the walls and resonates in his ears like the sound of a bomb going off. 

“You died in my arms and I had to–” You look at your hands, stained with blood, “I had to break your ribs to bring you back. Your bones… breaking,” you cry. “You died and I thought I was gonna lose you, for good. You can blame me for breaking a stupid promise, but if I hadn’t, I’d be preparing a funeral now!” 

His head tilts in his direction—you’re serious—and his defenses fall like an iron curtain, shattering like glass. The sound of your voice in such a state of disarray, death by a thousand cuts. 

He almost died. Or, he did die, and you brought him back, but the things you had to do for that… you brought him back, but it hurt you. He hurt you. He swore he would never do so again, only over his dead body, yet it was his dead body that almost broke you. 

Matt never wanted any of this to happen. The love of his life, traumatized. What kind of man does that? Surely the kind of man that no one but the one person he never deserved mourns when he’s gone. 

The silence drags on, suffocating you. “Do you get that?” you ask, barely above a whisper. “Do you get that I’d die without you?”

“I’m so sorry,” Matt whispers. “I don’t remember…”

“Of course, you don’t. You’ve never been this hurt.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I would’ve traded your life for mine if I could’ve. I tried, Matt, I did. I prayed to God and told him to take me instead while I was trying to get your heart beating again. And I blamed Him for doing this to you ‘cause I didn’t know who else to blame.” 

His fingers brush against the back of your hand. A nurse kindly lent you clothes from the lost-and-found, but you can still feel the sticky substance on your skin, crawling like a parasite.

You shudder. “If you hadn’t woken up, I–“ 

“C’mere,” he says. 

Beep, beep, beep, goes the heart monitor, and sirens wail outside his window. 

“I can’t,” you whisper back.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Sweetheart, you could cut out my heart and I’d still want you.”

A shiver runs down your spine, settling in the pit of your stomach. You feel so sick, so detached from everything and everyone, but the piece of you that you almost lost is right there, and he’s alive.

He’s alive. 

You have to keep reminding yourself of the fact. His heart is beating. His lungs are filled with air. Those last few hours might have felt like a proper nightmare, but you made it through. He made it through. 

“Please,” he pleads. “I… I need you.”

It’s different now. He’s not asking to hold you for your comfort but his own, and without another second thought, you climb into the tiny hospital bed with him. 

Matt seeks out the comfort of your chest, but he’s aimless in his agony. You gently guide his head to your heart. Touching him, feeling him so close to you, melts away the last of your fears.

“You scared me,” you confess.

He exhales. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just… promise you’ll live for me.”

The silence wraps a noose around your neck. But then, “You own my heart,” he says. 

“So?”

“Yeah, I’ll live for you.”

Those four words mean more to you than a promise to die for you if push comes to shove. Because what are you supposed to do without him? You’d rather he try everything in his power to live for you than leave you. 

“If you live for me, too,” he whispers then, and a tear runs from his cheek down your chest. You can’t survive without him, that much is certain. That may sound like a state of unhealthy codependency, but when two people share the same soul, every breath one breathes sustains the other. There’s nothing you can do about that, nor would you ever want to.

“Without you, I’d–” he cuts himself off. 

Without you, he’d be lost. Without you, even in death, he would not be able to find peace. 

“I promise,” you manage to say, although the words come with a fresh flood of salty tears that mix with the ocean of his. 

He relaxes into you. “Thank you.”

As he falls asleep in your arms that night, you find yourself staring up at the ceiling again.

“Don’t fail him,” you whisper. To God, to the universe, to the moon and Saturn, and to yourself. 

matt murdock angst tag list: @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @mochie-is-a-librarian @buckyssugarchick

[comikbook]

Hi! I absolutely LOVE the most recent painting you're working on! The composition is incredible and the colors are everything to me 🫶🫶 I absolutely love the way you draw faces like the piercings help map it out without showing too much and just !!! It's so good 🔥🔥🔥🔥 I was wondering if you would be willing to explain some of the symbolism behind it? Like the bleeding mouth, the house, or the dog? If it's a personal thing and you don't want to share, no worries!!

absolutely !!! this one is a little bit different story wise than some of my others but ill do my best to explain

this is the piece for those who dont know !

so lets start, why the armor and the sword ? well !

i wanted to do a piece referencing joan of arc. as someone who also has had the experience of hearing god talk to them/feeling like a messenger of god due to schizophrenia i have always felt a kinship with her. so i wanted to do a piece inspired by this iconic painting. that also goes into the composition.

however, that nod is the extent of that reference.

what about the house ? well, that is my childhood home.

here it is :,) the one with the bird over the door is the house i consider my childhood home. i no longer live here of course, the neighborhood got a lot more dangerous, abandoned, and not taken care of, i live in a city with a lot of violence, particularly gun violence and gang activity as well as heroin and fent being popular on the streets. there are houses in this neughborhood that have been destroyed by fire and were never fixed, most houses had infestation of roaches rats or mice, occassionally bedbugs. it wasnt a great neighborhood before, but its gotten worse over the years. despite that i hold some of my fondest memories here. i think its beautiful in a way, and i felt safer there than anywhere else.

the house represents my past, the blood trail leading from the door to the figure, who is me, after having slain some beast inside. this is representative of moving on, of leaving your childhood behind. It also represents the violence of where i live, and the horrid memories experienced by my father who lived there growing up as well. it was his home, but he inherited it from his mother. while that house was a safe haven for me, it was a bitter memory of horrific events for him. it was bittersweet to leave. for him, he was moving past that, for me, i was desperately trying to hold on. it was a needed sacrifice, which goes back to the blood.

the dog is a character in my work that represents god. he is omnipresent, always observing. he watched me kill a part of myself, that held on to memories i loved, and forced to move on. he watched this attack, and did not intervene. Perhaps I blame him for this, my relationship with god is not a good one, but that is the symbolism nonetheless.

lastly, there is the blood around the mouth, insinuating the beast inside had been consumed. I have killed it yes, but it stays with me. I consumed its flesh and it is now with me forever, even if it is gone. We are still one, me and the memories i shared there, even if separated by life and death.

this was a really long post, but i hope you find this explination interesting :,) !

[lastoneout]

Also another more recent one here!

While wider studies are needed, it does feel really insidious that stimulant medication is misunderstood, demonized, and so strictly regulated that most of us have had to go without for days or weeks at a time sometimes multiple times a year or even EVERY MONTH, and in some places it's almost impossible to actually access at all while the truth is that it is quite literally life-saving medical care for those of us who need it.

I've left the stove on three separate times when unmedicated and I was VERY lucky that none of them resulted in carbon monoxide poisoning or me burning my house down. I've also nearly electrocuted myself or walked into traffic, being off my meds legit feels like all my senses are dulled, I'm far clumsier which leads to injury, forget important things like if I've taken my other meds, meds that if I go off of suddenly or take too much of can cause severe health problems. I've heard horror stories of how hard it is to even just drive safely with unmedicated ADHD and most people don't even realize how unsafe it is until they've gone on meds and learned what normal driving is for a neurotypical person. And the list goes on. Hell, being unmedicated can even lead to losing our jobs, housing, or access to food and support systems, and makes it way harder to keep your house clean, all of which also lead to an increased risk of injury, illness, and death. I've missed rent more times than I can count, racked up credit card debt, had my utilities shut off, all because I just can't fucking remember to pay bills on time without my meds, I've missed fucking black mold in my shower, accidentally eaten food out of date, gotten way too drunk without realizing it, it's a nightmare, it really is.

I really just hate thinking about how many people with ADHD have likely died or been seriously injured or suffered due to simple mistakes that they never would have made if they were properly medicated, and it makes me so angry that ADHD treatment is so hard to get almost entirely based on bullshit scaremongering about addiction. In fact being medicated puts ADHDers at LESS of a risk of turning to alcohol and drugs to make our lives manageable, and it's nearly impossible for someone with ADHD to get addicted to a stimulant medication anyway.

(Not that addicts deserve what happens to them, they need help and support as well, everyone deserves human rights and to have their needs met, this just is a completely fabricated problem when it comes to ADHD and it's normalization is legit killing us. My mom has also nearly died due to not being medicated and she to go through like four different licensed psychatrists until she found one who would actually prescribe ritalin for her, the rest all cited risk of addiction as a reason to deny her even though they should fucking know that isn't a legit concern. One even said she just "didn't want to be held responsible" for her patients forming addictions to ADHD meds. I wonder how she'd feel if she was held responsible for all the suffering her desperation to keep her hands clean has almost certainly caused.)

And tbh I'd also rather a million people get high off adderall than have even one person with ADHD miss out on medical care that can save their life because disabled people shouldn't have to suffer to make up for shit we basically can't do. Why should someone else abusing adderall mean I have to risk my life and go without. Make it make sense.

It is actually way better for 100 addicts to get their fix on pain pills than a single person in pain go without. I call this the "Torture is bad" principle. You should be able to get the good stuff forever after a single doctor's visit. If you're worried about addicts fund rehab centers and needle exchanges instead of torturing people.

[thanosscross]

Fanboy - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader Part 2

Summary: After wrapping up filming for squid game, you realize, you aren't ready to leave yet, or at least, you weren't ready to leave Seung Hyun yet

Warnings: haha you thought the last one was sad? Buckle up my lovelies

You and your co-star had started a pattern, every night you'd alternate between hanging out on set, or hanging out at different clubs after filming wrapped, sometimes with other co-stars sometimes it was just Seung Hyun and you. It wasn't a problem until things started getting weird, after an accidental one night stand together neither of you decided to stop the pattern, the only difference was, the gazes, the touches, holds, had a lot more longing behind them.

Smiling as you walked onto set Seung Hyun was standing at the doors smiling "Happy death to you!" He cheered, you frowned smacking his chest "It's not a fun day, you ass!" You protested "My tv lover is killing me and I have to leave my best friend!" You whined holding his hands tightly as you stood on your tip toes to touch your nose with his, you needed to stress how serious this was. Jae-Won (Player 124) smirked from a distance standing next to Yu-ri "Are they together yet?" He asked watching the two of you in confusion "No..but if they do get together, people will lose it" She smiled, clapping her hands together happily, Seung Hyun smiled looking at you, his cheeks turning a soft pink from how close you were to him, reminding him of the one night spent on top of you, having your faces the same distance as you both came together.

"Action!" Your director called, you stood on your mark, taking Seung Hyun's advice on your character's emotions and started to think of the fact that you were leaving, and the routine you had grown so comfortable and used to with Seung Hyun was coming to end just as fast as it started. Tears starting to spill from your eyes as you let out a soft sob "I-I'm sorry" You whimpered, Seung Hyun froze, forgetting his lines for a moment as his heart broke, seeing the true and genuine sadness wash across your face "I told you I'd fucking kill you" He growled, trying his best to keep his glare on you harsh as the camera now held both of you in frame "T-Thanos please! I-I don't want to go not yet please!" You begged, going slightly off script before giving Seung Hyun his cue, you both acted out him stabbing your side repeatedly, the blood pack taped to your side starting to soak fake blood through your shirt as you grabbed Seung Hyun's hand "P-Please" You begged, He just threw your hand down storming out of the bathroom set, leaving the sound stage entirely before covering his ears knowing what was coming from his script.

"Su-Bong! P-Please! I don't want to die! I-I want to stay with you! Please don't leave me!" You cried, holding your side as you slowly letting your hand fall into your lap before letting your head fall to rest on your shoulder "Cut!" The director shouted, Nobody moved as your stayed where you were, your knees coming to your chest as you sobbed, your quickly hid your face in your hands "Y/n! That was beautiful!" your director shouted before taking notice to your state, Seung Hyun approached the set, taking notice to your sobs he rushed over, wrapping his arms around you gently "Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asked softly, you just wrapped your arms around him "I-I'm serious! I don't want to leave you yet, Seung Hyun" You sobbed, he had to fight back his own tears as he held you close to him "hey, You're not leaving yet" He whispered trying to comfort you, you just continued to cry in his arms, your other co-stars you had gotten close with had approached, trying to comfort you as well.

After a moment, Seung Hyun finally managed to get you back to your trailer and slightly calmed down. He laid reclined back on the couch with your head on his chest, your body pressed close against his as he ran his fingers through your hair, you had fallen asleep not long ago, but Seung Hyun was stuck thinking about everything with you. Pulling out his phone he called the one person he knew would help him with his issue, Ji-Yong. "Helloooo" He sang happily into the phone "Hey...You're the one coming to get Y/n right?" He asked quietly into the phone "Yes sir, as her fake boyfriend it's my job" He said proudly into the phone, Seung just rolled his eyes, why a fake boyfriend whenever Seung Hyun could just be your real boyfriend. "She's um...listen man I'm just going to be honest about everything. Her and I got drunk the other night..and ended up..together..if you know what I mean, well...after that..I started thinking about y/n differently..and she broke down after wrapping up her final scene begging not to leave yet...do you think..there's something there?" Seung Hyun asked nervously, Ji-Yong sighed, torn, he had promised to keep your words about Seung Hyun a secret from him, but here he was basically saying he felt the same, but he knew his friend wouldn't make a move until he had a for sure sign. "You didn't hear it from me..but she's calling one of us every night asking about you, what you like, how you were when you were in her spot" He explained, trying to step carefully so he wasn't betraying your trust "So...You think there's something there?" Seung hyun asked before hearing his old friend groan "Man...I promised her I wouldn't say anything!" He shouted, Seung Hyun grunted in frustration "If you think it's possible just say...she's pretty" He said, trying to get any type of answer from Ji-yong "Then she's Very Very Pretty" Ji-Yong smirked, knowing he just set the ball in motion for you both "I just...She's amazing..her voice is so calming and her eyes are always sparkling like the stars, she's more eye catching and beautiful than any piece of art I've ever seen" Seung Hyun whispered into the phone, not realizing you had woken up, watching as he spoke to your friend "So..You guys won't be upset..If I talk to her?" he asked hopeful, not wanting to make anybody upset "Man, I'm happy to see you both happy, you're both family, and seeing you happy together is even better" Ji-Yong explained, after saying his goodbyes, Seung Hyun ended his phone call, glancing down at you, meeting your gaze made his cheeks heat up in an intense blush, of course you were awake, you had probably heard everything as well.

You were quiet, just scanning over your best friends face, Seung Hyun could feel his nerves jump whenever you still hadn't said something "So...Are you going to talk to me?" You asked, you weren't cutting him any slack, if he wanted to ask you out, he had to put the work in, even though he was already there basically. "Well I mean..how much did you hear?" He asked sheepishly glancing away, feeling anxious under your gaze now, only now coming to the realization he had one of South Korea's K-pop sweethearts pressed against him, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars all for her, how the hell did he get here? "That the Top of K-pop thinks I'm pretty and more eye catching than any of the art he's seen" You blushed teasing him with his words "And it's true, the last handful of years I've dealt with a lot, and I've felt like I don't deserve anything..But when you're around I feel...normal?" He questioned "I don't know, I just know..I don't want the other night to be a one time thing...but I don't want us to be just sex after clubs" He added on, your heart skipped a beat, realizing you were living out almost every K-pop fan's dream, T.O.P, THE Seung Hyun was laying next to you admitting his feelings for you. You just smiled at him softly, pressing your lips to his softly, it wasn't like the multiple times before, like the other night, or whenever you were both dancing on the dance floor. The kiss this time was soft, filled more with love than want, Seung Hyun's hand gently cupped your cheeks as he pulled away slowly.

"I'm going to miss you" You whispered, you had spent the entire night talking with Seung Hyun, preparing yourself to leave him here while you went back to your hometown. "You'll see me soon..I promise" He reassured as he walked you towards the gate of the airport where Ji-Yong was supposed to meet you to fly back with you "I don't want to leave though" you whimpered, feeling your eyes gloss over with tears "My love..I swear, on the moon and stars, I will be with you again, so as the sun rises and sets, watch it with joy knowing I'm somewhere watching the same, thinking of how it resembles your beautiful eyes as the morning sunrise and sunset hits them, waiting until I can see you again" he whispered pressing his lips to your forehead gently "Seung Hyun! Could you stop making moves on my girl so I can get her home?" Ji-Yong shouted excitedly, rushing over to pull you both into a hug "Oh look at you two! K-pops power couple!" He cheered, you just held onto Seung Hyun tighter, trying to fight back your tears as you said your final goodbye. As you walked away you bit your knuckles, Ji-Yong taking your carryon and free hand giving it a comforting squeeze as he looked back, his heart breaking for his two best friends as he saw Seung Hyun squatted down where he stood, trying to conceal his own tears and sobs as the woman who somehow changed his life in the span of a few weeks walked onto a plane, not knowing when he'd be able to see you again.

As you sat in your seat you tried to compose yourself, but it was difficult whenever you knew somewhere Seung Hyun was inside of the airport, needing a hug and comfort, Ji-yong held your hand tightly, hating to see how broken you were over this, you weren't ever sad, even on your emotional songs and verses, you still somehow sounded bubbly, so seeing you so lost and broken hurt him in ways he didn't think was possible.

Whenever you got back home you weren't any better, immediately rushing to your room and hiding under your mountains of blankets, not wanting anybody to talk to you unless it was Seung Hyun.

--

I bet you cried didn't you? Or at least wanted to, I bet you also wanna kill me for leaving the second part here huh?

-

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

@heartz4rubyy

@onyxmango

[ilguna]

☼ neck in neck (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; he just can’t seem to accept the fact that you’re better than him. so now, to defend himself, he’s calling you a copycat in the capitol because of this stupid tattoo. when really, it has a deeper meaning.

warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption, vague threats to violence.

wc; 4.7k

notes; i talk about snow in a """good""" light bc there is no prostitution, not that you can tell in this imagine but still lol.

--

“Ugh, I just love the cocktails here!” Cashmere shouts over the music with a grin on her face. She’s leaned in close enough for you to smell the alcohol on her breath, but she’s trying to make sure you can hear her. “They’re intoxicating!”

“Do they have anything strong?” You ask back, squinting at the liquor they have behind the counter. 

“It’s the Victory Spot!” She laughs, “Of course they do.” 

Cashmere stands on her tiptoes, even though she’s tall and there’s no need to make herself bigger, but then she leans on the counter. She reaches over, grabs a laminated paper, and then sets it down in front of you.

It’s a menu.

You squint through the darkness, reading the long list of finely printed drinks, until you find one that’s going to get the night started on the right foot. You place your finger beneath the name, and then look up to find the nearest bartender. Only, there’s already one hovering over you and Cashmere, she’s just waiting for you to order.

“I’ll take the carnivore.” You smile. “Will you add an extra shot? I don’t care which liquor.”

The bartender raises her eyebrows. “Are you sure? It’s pretty strong.”

“(Y/n) has a high tolerance.” Cashmere chips in, “You won’t be killing her.”

She closes her eyes, shaking her head as she backs off the counter. “If there is a funeral, don’t invite me.”

You let out a laugh, turning to face Cashmere while the drink is made. “So, what’s new in the world of District One?”

“The usual shit.” She rolls her eyes. “The mentors before Gloss and I are complaining about the lack of victors in our district recently. And they’re blaming it on our mentoring style, but none of them want to take over.” She shrugs. “Apparently we have appearances to upkeep.”

“There’s been a streak lately.” You wave your hand. “Since I won it’s been nothing but districts that haven’t seen a victor in a good couple years.”

“And I see nothing wrong with that.” Cashmere shrugs.

“Agreed.” You murmur, watching the pattern of flashing lights.

While the Hunger Games are supposed to be a competition between the districts, you’re not selfish enough to be disappointed that other districts are taking home their children. There’s plenty of anger to go around, of course, but it’s not aimed at the mentors around you. It’s directed at the Capitol.

“Here’s your cup of death.” A voice says behind you. 

You glance over your shoulder first to look at the drink the bartender has just made you, a smile coming over your face when you see the dark red color. You pull out your metal card that’s provided by the Capitol for your monthly allowance. Except, it’s pretty much useless in District Two because everything is handled in cash, but you can’t use cash here because they think it's dirty. 

And it’s outdated.

She takes the card from your fingers, and you watch as a brief wave of impression crosses her face, something you’re not unfamiliar to. The heavier the card, the wealthier you are. It’s not super common for Capitol citizens to have such a luxury.

You lift the glass, watching the cubes of ice dance inside. As soon as the liquor hits your tongue, you know you don't need another drink tonight. This will be enough to get you loose, but not inebriated enough to not get back to the Tribute Center. 

You take a larger sip, the bartender slides the card back to you.

“Taxi services are listed by the door.” She points to where you entered from.

“I like to walk.” You wink at her, and then you look at Cashmere. “Where to?”

“This way.” She cocks her head to the side, walking into the crowd of people. 

You follow behind her, not really paying attention to the bodies, or those who bump into you. There’s even a few hands that caress at your skin, desperate for the attention that you’ll never give. Not without a price, at least.

There’s a few high tops that are open on this side of the room. Cashmere chooses the one pressed against the wall, allowing you to pick your chair first. Out of habit, you slide onto the one that allows you to get a clear look at the door, in case anything were to happen. And since Cashmere has no preference, she happily slides into the seat across from you.

“Okay, I’m ready.” She says, swirling her glittery drink. “What has Finnick been saying about you this year?”

“We haven’t even been in the Capitol for three days and he’s been calling me names to all my regular sponsors.” You press your lips together. “I’ve been building up this clientele for years, I can’t afford to lose them, if I actually want to have a chance this year. He knows this.”

“He’s just upset because he thinks you’re taking his mentoring style, right?” She asks.

You let out a breath of air. “You mean the mentoring style that the Career districts have been doing since the beginning?” You ask back. “The original Career districts?”

She makes a face. “I still don’t understand how they’re a part of the pack.”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t see how fish can be that great of a luxury but I’m not the one who lives here.” You raise your hands defensively. “All the times I’ve had it, it tastes as good as it smells.”

Cashmere smiles.

“Anyway, besides him calling me names, he’s also telling them that I don’t keep my promises and I never had. That’s why I haven’t been able to bring a tribute home.” You nod. “Because I’m just one big fraud—a scam artist. A wannabe.”

“A wannabe?” Cashmere repeats.

“That’s what I was told by one of the richer women.” You smile. bitterly “And then she went right back to ignoring me. I can’t talk sense into any of them now. It’s like they wanted to give me an explanation, just so they could stonewall me.”

You take a drink of the carnivore, getting a little enjoyment from the burn in your throat as it goes down.

“I would try, but we both know how that would end.”

“Yeah, there’s no point in getting us both blacklisted in the Capitol.” You agree. “I wish there was something I could do about it.”

“You could confront him.” Cashmere suggests with a shrug, taking a sip of her drink. “Set things straight.”

You snort, “The only way I know how to do that is with my fists, and something tells me that won’t go over well with President Snow.”

“Your fists?”

“Actions speak louder than words.” You smirk.

She shakes her head, staring down at the table for a couple of seconds. “Do you think roughing him up would actually work?”

“Are you kidding? I’d probably get crucified.” You sit back in your chair. “He’ll always be the Capitol favorite, I’m just a close second.” 

“Guess you’ll have to have a heart-to-heart with him.”

You mock a gag, pressing a fist to your mouth. “You think he has a heart? He’s knowingly taking sponsors away from innocent teenagers.”

“Innocent.” She laughs. “Our tributes are hardly that.”

“They are until they get their hands bloody.” You tell her. “They’re still children.”

For the next hour, you talk to Cashmere about your tributes becoming allies, their strengths and weaknesses, and the likeliness that they’ll end up pairing with the Four tributes—whether you like it or not. At the rate they’re currently going, they haven’t shown any interest in Finnick’s tributes, but that doesn’t mean they won’t change their minds later on.

Cashmere then offers to talk to her sponsors about teaming up with you, at least until your situation is sorted. You take her up on it, except you ask her not to go through with anything just yet. If it’s possible, you’d like to continue to use the people you’ve gotten to know these past couple years.

Which means that you need to have a conversation with Finnick at the first given chance.

The night ends early when one of the bartenders approaches your table and tells you that Cashmere’s escort is calling around to see where she’s at. As an apology for interrupting your conversation, he drops off two shots and then goes back to the bar.

Cashmere rolls her eyes, sliding off her seat. “I should get back, he’s been up my ass lately about making sure I’m present for mentoring. As if Gloss doesn’t attend everything.” She motions to the shots on the table. “Take mine for me, will you? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” You wave her off, she gives you a cheeky smile.

You watch her disappear into the sea of bodies, before you turn to the shots. With a shake of your head, you throw back the liquor, one after the other. You arrange the glasses neatly on the table before getting to your feet, straightening out your skirt.

It can’t be any later than midnight, and the place seems like it’s packed from wall to wall. You carefully navigate your way to the bar, figuring it’ll be easy to leave from there. The bartender that served you the carnivore earlier gives you a wave on your way out, and you lift your hand as a courtesy.

As soon as you step on to the colorful Capitol street, the warm July air kisses your skin, cooling you down. You stare down the block for a couple of seconds, enjoying the peace, before you have to go back to the Tribute Center and deal with your own version of crazy. 

You’re so sick of being bossed around by your escort, but you were warned by one of the stylists that if you keep intentionally screwing with her, then you were going to get in trouble. Apparently she’s already started the process of getting in contact with Snow, and she’s just waiting for an excuse to tell him everything.

You’re not really afraid of what will happen if she does tattle on you to the President, you think he would get your side of the story first before making any final decisions. It’s the fact that she’ll be smug after that’s making you hesitate. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction. 

After a minute or so, you turn to continue down the street, heading in the direction of the Tribute Center. It’s not that long of a walk, you’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes. Despite this, you’re sure that Cashmere will still call a taxi to get home, she was wearing a nice pair of heels.

You really don’t know what to do about this situation with Finnick. As nice as it would be to pull him aside and talk your feelings out, you’re not that type of person. When you suggested settling the situation with your hands, you were only partially kidding.

After everything he’s done to you these past couple of years, it would be well deserved. He’s got his head so far up his ass that he thinks you’re following his every move. When in reality, you’re just using the strategies that are being taught to you by the mentors in the past.

Lyme, especially.

If you do decide to throw him around, he has it coming, so you won’t entirely feel bad about it. The only issue is that you come from a family where fighting your problems out is the usual. He won’t be able to defend himself as easily. 

You’ll have to deal with the repercussions, though. Finnick is a Capitol favorite, he gets everything he wants from his team, and sometimes even the President. If you so much as leave a bruise on his golden skin, you’ll bet that they’ll have you replaced in the Capitol forever. You won’t be welcome back, and you’re not sure if you’re willing to give that up just yet.

Either way, you’ll have to figure it out soon. Preferably without the help of that idiot they sent you here with. If they were trying to piss you off, they did a great job of it. He’s notorious for leaving all the work to the female mentors so he can do all the schmoozing, but as soon as he heard of what was happening with the sponsors, he holed himself up in his room. 

Hopefully he stays there.

You take a shortcut through an alley that should lead you right to the front doors of the Tribute Center. The streets of the Capitol are safe, you never have to worry about some creep hanging around, only the workers of the shops. Even then, they’re not really that intrusive, they just want to get through the night so they can go home.

There’s no one here except for you.

About halfway through the alley, it gets incredibly dark because of a light that’s out above one of the doors. This doesn’t bother you, all you do is keep your eyes on the ground to avoid stepping on any trash that might have gotten flung by accident.

A sharp pain seizes your left forearm, so sudden and unexpected that you think someone has just stabbed you. Without a second thought, you throw your entire body into a punch behind you, but it catches nothing. Your momentum works against you, bringing you down to the pavement.

You collapse in a puddle of what you can only imagine is garbage juice. The little care you have for the integrity of your clothes is gone the moment the pain spreads in two different directions, the feeling of pins and needles stabbing at your arm. You clutch your skin in a tight grip, squeezing your eyes closed and rocking, wishing it would stop.

And it does.

You sit for a minute, taking some deep breaths while you carefully look over your arm, needing to know what happened. It doesn’t look like anything has changed, but there is a smudge of dirt that’s being stubborn. You leave it for now, you’ll scrub it off in the shower when you get back to the Two apartment.

As soon as you get back to your feet, your skirt suctions to your skin, as well as your nice shirt, which is most definitely ruined now. You let out an annoyed sigh, as you continue through the alley and back onto the main sidewalk. A street light illuminates where you stand, allowing you to get a clear look at your arm.

You hold it out, expecting to see mud, but you’re met with something much more permanent—a tattoo. What you had thought to be a mess of dirt on your arm, is actually a freshly carved tattoo, just beneath the inside of your elbow. You press your lips together at the sight of your irritated skin.

You have a soulmate, and either they can afford to get a tattoo in the districts, or they’re somewhere here in the Capitol. And judging by the handiwork, you think it’s the latter.

Before you can even give yourself a moment to wonder who might be on the other side of it, your feet begin to move. Right now, you need to get this cleaned if you don’t want it to get infected. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out who you’re meant to be with when you wake up tomorrow.

—

Copycat.

It’s what you’ve been called all day. From the moment you woke up and walked out of your bedroom, to just five minutes ago in the sponsorship room surrounded by Capitol people. It’s driving you up the wall, and it’s because of the mark on your arm.

“Copycat,” Hannes—your fellow District Two mentor—said as soon as his eyes found the tattoo on your arm. “Did you really get that last night?”

“Yes and no.” You told him, dragging your feet to the dining room table, where breakfast had been recently served. “Copycat?”

He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “What do you mean? Did you get it this morning?”

“No, I’ve been sleeping since I came back from the Victory Spot with Cashmere.”

Hannes squinted at you, not at all convinced. “You’re not a very good liar. Where’d you get it?”

“I’m not lying.” You told him. “I got it in an alleyway.”

He sputtered out a laugh, coming up the steps to get a closer look. “You got that in an alleyway? Who’d you have to pay to get that sort of intel?”

“What are you talking about?” You stared at him. “Intel on what?”

Hannes elongated his neck a little bit, trying to decipher if you were fucking with him or not, but you weren’t.

After a long pause, he said: “Finnick, obviously.”

“Hannes, what about Finnick?”

“He got the same exact tattoo last night. I was with him and Gloss at the tattoo shop on the corner. The one down the road from Sugar and Spice.”

In that moment, you felt all the blood run from your face, the expression on your face dropping completely. Finnick. Finnick got the same exact tattoo last night? Finnick is the one that you’re supposed to be with for the rest of your life? Is this some sort of joke?

“Did you not think anyone would notice?”

“Holy shit.” You murmured, sitting back in your chair.

“You’re a fucking copycat.”

“I’m not a copycat, you moron.” You snapped back. “Leave me alone.”

It couldn’t stop there, of course. When you got dressed for the sponsors, you tried to look nice by wearing a summery dress with a cute pair of wedges. Usually, you go for an expensive set, trying to look like you come from wealth, but you were hoping that if you took a page from Cashmere’s dress, then maybe it would be easier to get through to them.

Unfortunately, it did not work. In fact, you think you set yourself up for violence, because you practically got verbally assaulted by the Capitol people that hang around Finnick the most. You have thick skin, so nothing they could say would ever get you riled up, but it kept coming.

And then it began to encourage the people around them. By the time Cashmere and Gloss were finally arriving, you were fuming. Your skin was hot to the touch, and you were grinding your teeth.

“You look like you want to kill someone.” Cashmere told you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Why are you so warm?”

“Is that a tattoo on your arm?” Gloss asked without giving you a chance to answer his sister first. “Wait—”

“I did not get this tattooed last night.” You told him, steely eyes encapsulating him into a stare down, challenging him to call you some form of a copycat.

“Well, how could you? You went right home after the bar, right?” Cashmere asked, reaching to grab your arm to get a better look.

Gloss had a question on his tongue, eyes wide as he looked between the mark on your arm and your face. He knew that if he said the wrong thing, he would immediately get reamed, forcing him to reconsider his words carefully.

And you knew that he already knew who else had just gotten that tattoo on their body.

“Yes, I did. I even took a shortcut through an alley to get to the building quicker.” You told her through tight teeth.

Gloss opened his mouth, taking in a breath of air, and then it hitched. He changed his mind, not quite ready to ask you.

“So… this morning?” Cashmere asked, not paying attention to her brother. “When did you have time?”

“I haven’t.” You finally looked at her. “I did not get this last night or this morning.”

Gloss swallowed. “You know, Finnick was at a tattoo shop with Hannes and I last night.” He started slowly, testing the water.

“Oh, I’m fully aware. Hannes told me this morning, and I’ve been getting an earful from these assholes all afternoon.”

He pressed his lips together. “I don’t know what to say right now, because all I’m coming up with are ways that will get you pissed off more than you already are.”

“I am not a copycat.” You told him, then looked at Cashmere. “I got it in that alleyway last night.”

Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing while she stared at you, trying to figure out what you were trying to subtly tell her. “Okay…?”

“Finnick has the same tattoo, Cash.” Gloss nudged her a little. “I watched him get it.”

Her eyes bounced down to what’s been permanently etched into your skin. “Soulmate mark?” She asked, her tone slightly hopeful.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You told her, “And now I have no choice but to talk it out with him.”

“You’ll be able to catch him tonight.” Gloss told you. “He’s free, he has no plans.”

“Good, because we need to settle this.”

After this, you went back to the apartment to change into something more casual, tired of appearances. You settled on a pair of jeans, sneakers and a long-sleeved shirt that would cover the damn thing. However, when you got to the sponsorship room to be with Cashmere and Gloss, it was infuriating.

It was like you became a zoo animal. Once word got out that you had gotten a tattoo exactly like Finnick’s, less than twenty-four hours from when he got it, everyone had to come and see. And while it did get incredibly busy, and it would’ve been perfect for networking—all people wanted to do was see the tattoo and ask you if you were proud of yourself. Or if you had a hard time being your own individual.

Which is rich coming from a group of people who talk, walk and dress the same. They have one collective mind and it’s controlled by the President, but it’s not like you could say that to them. 

So, you gave up for the evening and you’ve spent the rest of the night stewing in your room, waiting for everyone to go to bed so you can leave. As you step into the elevator, you jab your thumb into the four button on the box. The doors slowly slide shut, and then you’re sent a few floors up.

From what you understand, all the floor layouts for the Tribute Center are the same, so it should be relatively easy to get around. When the elevator stops, the doors open, revealing a differently decorated apartment. It’s incredibly cliche, with the seashells and sand vases with ocean paintings on the wall.

Something moves in the darkness, you step forward to place your hand on the doors to keep them from trying to close. You don’t move further than that, waiting to see who it is that’s in the living space. If it’s Lynnea—or whatever the girl mentor’s name is—you’ll have to come up with some lame excuse and go back down.

A low laugh interrupts the silence, as the person barely comes into sight. It’s Finnick, and he’s got this smug look on his face. You hate smug people.

“Well, look who it is.” He says slowly, you step out of the elevator. The doors close immediately, blocking off the light. But he’s prepared for this, because he reaches to the nearest table to flick on the lamp. “Come to scope me out and see what else you should steal from me? A tattoo wasn’t enough?”

“Are you stupid?” You shoot back, it comes out harsher than you mean for it to. “Genuinely. I thought that you had to be smart, considering your strategies, but you have to lack some common sense.”

“I’m stupid? The least you could try to do is be subtle.” He motions to your arm. “Nowhere else? In the exact same spot as me? I thought Hannes was kidding when he told me.” He shakes his head. “You had to be stalking me in order to get it that quick, and then you went to some alleyway artist to protect their identity? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You think I care about your life that much?” You laugh a little. “You don’t think it’s strange that I happened to get it the same night you did?”

“I figured it was a form of dedication.” He shrugs. “It wouldn’t be the first time you tried to follow in my footsteps.”

You open your mouth to correct him, but you remind yourself that you can’t get sidetracked. “It appeared on my arm.”

Finnick’s face twists, as if you’re trying to feed him a spoon of shit. “Tattoos don’t just appear on your arm. How fucking stupid do you think I am?”

You don’t take the bait. “They do in some cases.” You tell him, not wanting to outright give him the answer.

Honestly, it’s not like you really hate Finnick and the thought of being connected to him makes you sick. It’s because you want him to feel stupid for how he’s been treating you these past few years—especially this year. 

You don’t really care about him, usually you can stomach and brush off what he has to say, and the shenanigans he’s up to. You’re actually pretty similar in most ways, which is why his behavior doesn’t get to you. You have the same fashion taste, mentoring style, arena strategies, and more. And you only considered this to be a coincidence until recently.

It clicked in your mind this afternoon while you were changing. All the pieces have fallen into place since. You’ve always been drawn to each other, whether you liked it or not. It might’ve been romantic or friendly from the beginning if Finnick hadn’t already hated your guts. Instead, it just turned you into competitors.

“Like what?” Finnick asks, still actively being combative.

“Take a second and think about it.” You tell him, leaning against the wall. “I’ll even give you a hint; we have the rest of our lives to figure it out.”

The creases in his forehead get more defined while he turns your words over in his head. It doesn’t take long for him to realize what you’re telling him. His eyes dart to his forearm, where he rubs the tattoo on his skin, lips pressed together in a thin line. Then his arm drops. 

“We’re soulmates.”

“It explains everything, doesn’t it?” You ask him.

“Yeah, actually.” He looks up from the floor. “How long have you known?”

“I knew it was a soulmate mark when it appeared on my arm after the bar last night, but it was Hannes that actually indirectly told me it was you.”

He lets out a hiss. “This will be a hard one to explain to the Capitol.”

You shrug. “Tell them the truth, or don’t. Either way, I want my sponsors back.” You raise your eyebrows. “It’s unfair to turn them against me like that, especially since they’re not for me, they’re for my tributes.”

“That was Lynnea.” Finnick shakes his head. “She wanted them to come to us, instead. I’ll have a talk with them to make sure we set things straight.”

“You can’t blame it on Lynnea. Everyone has told me that you called me a wannabe.”

Finnick’s face twists. “Do I look like I call people wannabe’s?”

You squint at him. “Fine, I’ll let that go. Just tell Lynnea that if she wants to go home with a black eye, that’s the way to do it.” You press the button on the wall, and the elevator opens right back up. You step on, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Finnick takes a step forward, you block the doors that have begun to close. “What are we going to do about this?” He asks, showing you the tattoo on his arm. “We live in two different districts.”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds, “I’m in no hurry to find out. It’s not like we don’t see each other every year for a month at a time.”

Finnick nods a little bit. “Goodnight, (Y/n). I’m sorry.”

“You’ll make it up to me.” You give him a cheeky smile, moving your hand away from the elevator door. “Goodnight, Finnick.”

[itsnesss]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 | lee myung-gi (player 333) × fem!reader

summary | you comfort myung-gi after being filled with guilt for killing Thanos

warnings | graphic violence (implied death and blood), guilt and psychological distress, sensitive themes surrounding survival and guilt

word count | 1.9 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩

The room had grown even darker with the news of the fight.

The murmurs of the players filled the air, most of them in shock, unable to process what had just happened. You knew that some of the bodies, now lying in the bathroom, would never return to this place. The faces of those men were still etched in your mind, even though you tried to block the image.

But the only thing that truly mattered at that moment, the only thing you could think about, was him.

Myung-gi.

He was sitting apart from the others, hunched over as if the weight of guilt was crushing him. His face was covered in blood, his shirt soaked with it, and his hands trembled uncontrollably. Although chaos surrounded him, he seemed trapped in his own universe, one where guilt was consuming him slowly.

You couldn’t leave him alone. Not without doing something.

You grabbed your green sweatshirt, the one you had left aside during the last trial, and approached him with firm but gentle steps. The silence surrounding him felt heavy, as if the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only the gravity of what had happened in that space.

When you reached his side, he didn’t even lift his head. His eyes were empty, fixed on the floor, and his breathing, though barely audible, seemed shallow. At first, you feared he couldn’t hear you, but you leaned closer and called him softly:

"Myung-gi, look at me."

His face barely moved, and the words left his mouth without strength, as if they weren’t truly his own.

"I didn’t want to do it…" his voice was a desperate whisper. "But I couldn’t stop it."

You crouched in front of him, sweatshirt in hand, and began to wipe the blood from his face. Your touch was gentle, almost as if you were trying to heal not just his face but the inner storm tearing him apart. When he finally lifted his gaze, his dark, deep eyes met yours.

"I killed him," he murmured, his lips trembling. "I killed Thanos."

You paused for a moment, letting those words settle in the air. You knew what they meant; you knew what had happened in the bathroom. Thanos, the strongest, the most brutal of all. You knew Myung-gi had been pushed to his limit, that the fight was inevitable.

Despite this, your heart ached at the sight of the guilt shining in his eyes.

"You must’ve had a reason to do it," you said in a calm whisper, trying to help him understand that sometimes, circumstances left no other choice.

He shut his eyes tightly, as if trying to escape his own truth.

"He was choking me," he finally said, his voice breaking with pain. "I tried, I really tried. I didn’t want to kill him. But I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let him kill me."

You knew there couldn’t have been another way. Thanos was too strong, and he didn’t have the strength to defend himself otherwise. The words left your lips without thinking as you wiped away every trace of blood with the sweatshirt’s fabric.

"It was the only way, Myung-gi. If you hadn’t done it, he would’ve killed you. And if it wasn’t Thanos, it would’ve been someone else. You… you’re not a killer. You’re just a man trying to survive."

He didn’t respond, only lowered his head again as if he couldn’t face what had just happened. His sobs were barely audible, but they were there, tearing at his soul. You knew what he’d just done would weigh on him, would mark him forever. But there was something else. Something that needed to be said.

You leaned toward him, and before you could think twice, your lips met his. It was a soft kiss, but one heavy with everything you couldn’t express in words. In that brief instant, you offered him comfort, a promise that everything would be okay, even though, deep down, you knew things would never be the same.

When you pulled away, he looked at you, his eyes filled with surprise. He seemed bewildered, as if he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. But you, your gaze fixed on his, gave him a gentle smile.

"Everything is going to be okay," you said firmly. Your voice was a whisper, but it carried an unshakable calm.

Myung-gi could barely respond, but his face softened slightly, as if your presence, your words, were the only thing that truly mattered in that moment. And though uncertainty still loomed, a small spark of hope began to glimmer in his eyes.

He lifted a hand and touched your face, as if to make sure it wasn’t a dream. The tenderness in his gesture made your heart race. And, for the first time since you’d come to his side, he seemed to find some solace, if only for a second.

You didn’t say anything else. You didn’t need to. You knew the road ahead would be long and painful. But as long as you were together, everything could change. You would be his refuge, and he would be yours.

Myung-gi closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, his gaze was no longer as empty. Though still filled with doubt and fear, there was something different about him. Something that hadn’t been there before. A spark of life.

Without saying another word, you leaned toward him again, and this time, he kissed you. It was a longer, deeper kiss, as if he’d finally allowed himself to feel something other than guilt. The touch of his lips was filled with hesitation but also relief, a yearning to be understood.

When you parted, you looked at each other, and without words, you both knew that whatever happened from that moment on, you would face it together.

"Thank you…" he whispered, his voice a little steadier, though still heavy with the tension of what had happened.

You only nodded, a soft smile on your lips. You didn’t need to say more. You knew the comfort you offered was the only thing you could give him at that moment. And as long as you were there, by his side, he wouldn’t have to carry that weight alone.

Myung-gi was still trembling, but it was no longer the same fear as before. Now it was uncertainty, the kind that always accompanies those who confront their own demons. But the difference was that, though the storm raged on, he was no longer alone. And for the first time since everything began, you felt that both of you had a chance to heal.

Everything would be okay. Because together, you would overcome it.

[frangipani-wanderlust]

Well, yeah, some applications that would benefit society-at-large are immediately apparent. I could end terrorism too.

But I can see this, very quickly, turning into a "I would use this ring out of a desire to do good, but through me it would work great evil" kind of a situation. What's to stop me from picking out the hottest guy I have met and forcing him to fall in love with me? Is he a Christian? He is now. Or if I suspect someone of a crime and they decide they must've done it and go confess? What if I was wrong?

Too much potential for abuse. It'd be one of those Death Note situations where you start out with such tiny little steps that are only kinda-sorta bad, but they have such good outcomes and before you know it you've killed people and you don't even remember all their names... Only winning move is not to play at all.

And dreams isn't necessarily useless. I can see that being just as dangerous as thought-control if you're good at it. You could pull Inception-style corporate espionage heists with no physical evidence. Give somebody nightmares. Make them dream of hating someone so much that they soon start hating them IRL. Or make them fall in love with someone you picked out for them.

Controlling dreams is basically the same as thought control, but limited to when the person is asleep. The effects would be harder to control and take longer to kick in, but it would also be more subtle and probably harder to detect.

You discover that you have control over a certain thing, as determined by spinning this wheel. We're talking full-on magical girl/superhero/supervillain/your label of choice control.