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#it's lin bc it's always her

kis-ki · 2 years

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working on another fic!!! might have it out anywhere from tonight to in a few days hehe

#new fic time #it's lin bc it's always her #my covid is getting better #rhi speaks

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neowinestainedress · 7 months

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𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: “horror”, thriller, yandere-ish, smut, halloween special, scream!au 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again. Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: dark content, talks of [m*rders, sl!tting throats, v!olent stuff in general], dr*g/anaesthetic use [to make mc fall asleep but unrelated to any sexu*l act (she’s awake and willing)], mentions of [dubcon] phone s*x + masturbation, implied stalking, use of restrainers, cl!t rubbing, rough t!t/n!pple play, protected s*x turns unprotected, kn!fe play, ‘fear’ play, clothes cutting, fake sympathy, pet names used in a mocking way, degradation, rough s*x, hair pulling, spit (1), p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, possessiveness, 1 brief talk of carving, polaroids pictures, all consensual but i’ll still put a dubcon warning just to be safe (tbh it’s more like hate sex bc the mc would rip his head off but also fuck him), reader is kinda fucked up herself. | inclusivity notes: reader has hair long enough that can be pulled (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type but reader is manhandled a few times and has b**bs and *ss big enough that can be cupped, no mention of skin color, no use of y/n 𝐖𝐂: 10.662k 𝐀/𝐍: this year i had vague ideas for halloween but not even a defined good one, i had some suggestions i liked but were far too complicated, and i had no energy to write them in time. but a ghostface/scream au was an idea i had in mind for some time, the original was a ghostface cosplay, but then i went with this one, and I’m happy with how it turned out. i had 2 members in mind (johnny/haechan) for the og plot, then someone suggested jeno and jisung (as a duo) but if i unmasked him the plot wouldn’t have made sense anymore, so he’s whoever you want him to be! the other ghostface is mentioned but doesn’t appear physically in the story, you can pick who you want for him too. i never wrote blankly for the male mc so let me know if it was good. please, if you like it, leave feedback through reblogs or asks! and also let me know who you imagined behind the mask 👀 enjoy and happy halloween

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 ��𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄.

Your mother always told you to mind your business or else your curiosity was going to be the death of you one day.

It’s clear you never treasured her words, and your curiosity led you to be a private detective with only a few thrills in your life since now, nothing too exciting ever happened in your small town, until one day you received a phone call from the district of Woodsboro. A string of murders was terrorizing the town after years and all the evidence led to another psycho who thought it was funnier to kill people while putting on a Ghostface mask.

Months have passed since that call and you have nothing concrete. It’s like he’s only messing up with you and, in the meantime, innocent people keep dying. But you have your theories, the ones you only keep to yourself, stored away in the privacy of your diary, hidden under the pillow of your bed. Your colleagues seem decent people, but with time, you’ve learned to trust nobody.

And your secret theories led you right where you are now. In the open country, away from the small town, where a small barn grabbed your attention the first time you moved to Woodsboro.

The barn seems empty but eerie vibes surround it. The strong smell of the grass stings your nose as your black boots walk on the muddy ground, the rain of this morning still lingering in the air and in the countryside.

When you reach the perimeter, you squeeze your eyes to see inside, but the few tiny windows don’t allow you a big view. The more you walk around it to make sure it’s empty, the more the hold on your concealed carry with the gun inside tightens.

It’s late October and the cold penetrates your brown leather jacket, but the temperature is not the thing that makes you shiver.

You should’ve never followed your instinct and come here alone. You should’ve spoken to somebody else in the department, told them your theory and have some backup in this crazy plan of yours. But when your impulses take over, your smartness slips away, and you find yourself in the worst situations ever.

Like right now. You stand in front of the wooden door and find the courage to push it open. You should feel thrilled, you found him. You found the psycho that has been haunting the town for months now, messing up with you with clues and mocks that pushed you farther away from the right path. Yet, you beat him, for once it looks like you have the upper hand now that you’re walking around the empty barn away from the town. But something doesn’t feel right, your guts are telling you something but you don’t listen, you can’t walk away now that you’re so close.

There’s not much to inspect, a few pieces of furniture, a disheveled mattress in the middle of the room, and a few chairs in a corner. It almost looks like an abandoned farm if only it wasn’t for the unnerving vibes that carries with it and for two walls that call your attention. On the right, there’s a map of Woodsboro, pins linked by a red thread, connecting all the places where Ghostface hit in these past months. Your hand quickly reaches the back of your pocket to pull out your phone and snap a picture, hoping there will also be places he didn’t go, and this time you can be faster at stopping him.

What’s on the other side is worse.

“What the fuck…” you mumble under your breath as you step closer to the wall. Polaroid pictures hanging from it, Ghostface and the victims, you guess, moments before they were brutally killed. You’re not surprised, one of the gifts he would leave on the scene of the crime being Polaroids, but they didn’t make much sense. “He’s a fucking psycho,” you scoff as you take another picture.

“Surpriiise!!”

Your phone falls on the floor with a loud thud and your heart jumps in your throat when his voice breaks the deafening silence in the room, but your reflections are swift enough to make you reach for your gun and turn around, shooting.

“Boo, fail,” Ghostface laughs, hitting your wrist hard enough to make the gun fall on the floor next to your phone. “You’re really not as smart as I thought you were, don’t you know intruding on someone else’s property is illegal?” he points out, pushing your body against the wall, the sharp blade of his knife grazing the skin of your neck.

You try to keep calm, deep slow breaths as you try to don’t look scared for your life. You might die today, but you won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Don’t look so frightened, my dear. I’m quite happy to have you all to myself,” he chuckles, his hand lifts to caress your face and you struggle to avoid it, but the click of his tongue makes you stop. “I wouldn’t act too careless, it’s sharp.”

You stop moving. You are smart, and you can get yourself out of this situation. “Do you want to play a game, Ghostface?” You ask, ignoring his taunts, the irony in your voice is clear, just like it’s blatant in the slow bat of your eyelashes, but your words only make him laugh.

“Oh, that’s not how it works, detective. That’s my line. You didn’t study the script?”

You scoff, trying to take time to free yourself. “We’re switching roles. Do you want to play a game? It’s called you turn yourself in and I put you in jail.”

He snickers, and his head tilts to have a better look at your face. He’s had many people in this position before and never saw so little fear in their eyes. “Now you want to act like you don’t love the chase?”

“Fuck you, I don’t love it,” you spit out, narrowing your eyes, desperately trying to get a glimpse of anything under the mask. Another failed attempt.

He laughs darkly, so deep it hits you to the core and makes you shiver — in fear or excitement, you’ll let this decide to your better judgment. “I know you do,” he coos as his thumb covered with the black glove caresses your lips. “Enjoy the little clues I leave you around? You were interested in the pictures, I knew you loved them, that’s why you get the prettiest ones. I tell you so much, but you don’t understand me,” his voice is calm, scarily calm, and full of sarcasm filled with a sweetness that feels like a slap across your face. “I was a bit mad it took you so long to find me.”

Rage shoots up inside of you, but you instantly push it down, you can’t lose your composure. “So, what are you going to do, kill me?” Your voice drops of a tone, and your eyes turn into a teasing gaze, making him chuckle.

“Talking about death so nonchalantly with me, mmh… are you brave or dumb? Because if you ask so nicely, I just might let the knife sink in.”

You laugh lightheartedly, putting up the best performance of your life before your eyes flutter seducingly at him. “No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,” you coo, lips in a pout and innocence in your eyes, until you hit him with a swift, strong kick between his legs, the distraction of your performance giving you time to slip to the side, causing just a bit of your skin to cut and bleed.

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he kneels to the ground. You reach for your gun, but barely have time to grab it before he pushes you on the floor again. “We were having so much fun, you just have to ruin everything.”

You’re waiting for the worst when he traps you on the floor with his body on yours, but his arms don’t lift to stab you in your chest or stomach, the last thing you see before passing out is his hand lifting in the air and the sting of a needle pushing past your skin.

The white light of the room feels like staring directly at the sun when your eyes blink repeatedly as you try to come back to earth and push away the hammering of your headache. You groan hoarsely, trying to adjust to the light, but the biggest discomfort comes from your shoulders, pushed behind your back and around the chair you’re now sitting on.

“Sorry, I had to tie you up, but you’re a bit feisty today. Didn’t want you to get hurt,” Ghostface replies to your silent questions — not so silent, considering how loud you’re groaning and struggling on the chair, trying to break free. He’s standing in front of you, but a chair is right behind him so you guess he was sitting there before you woke up.

“You can’t even take one down without a fight? Need to kill me without breaking a sweat?” You taunt, eyes dark and a deep frown on your forehead.

But your teasing seems to leave him unfazed as he walks toward you with a glass in hand. “Drink.”

You scoff, staring at him. You hate that you can’t see him, not even because you want to find out who’s hiding under there, but also because you feel like you can’t confront him well enough. “You think I’m so stupid to accept a drink from a psycho?”

His head rolls back followed by an annoyed sigh as he stops right in front of you. His black boots bumping against yours. “You know that’s not how I move, no fun in killing with these shortcuts. Drink. I would never want you to pass out here,” he coos while his free hand pushes your hair out of your face. You can’t see behind the mask, but you know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves the glass to your lips, but you turn to the side, he doesn’t give you a choice when he strongly grips your chin, pushing your lips open, and forces the water down your throat. “Oops, it spilled all over, you’re so messy, detective,” he snickers when water drips on your chin and shirt. As if he didn’t do it on purpose.

“Asshole,” you mutter, eyes closing into fissures while you look at him. His head tilts, “Oh, brave. I could slit your throat right now, add you to the collection.”

You chuckle darkly, shaking your head. “You won’t,” you say firmly. “You’ve never had someone quite as fun as me.”

A low laughter escapes from the mask. “So, you are at least a bit smart?” His hand places on your thigh and you try to move away, but the chair screeches on the floor, and his hold only tightens.

“Don’t play games now. Don’t fake it,” he groans, hand moving up on your blue jeans. “You enjoyed our last conversation,” he whispers, the mask close to your face, so close you can almost see his eyes behind the blackness of the two holes. “Had shivers run down your back when the phone rang in the middle of the night, haven’t you? You sat up straight in your big bed, all alone, and felt fear take over. Never answer unknown numbers. That’s what they say, that’s what you say, running around town, warning everyone about me,” he laughs deeply. “And then look at you, picking up that phone call, eager to hear my voice on the other side.”

“You’re a psycho,” you spit out, struggling against the restrainers. But once again it is an act; he is a psycho, but you are starting to fear you aren’t much different.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I am, never denied that. But don’t act better than me. You stood right in front of that window, stripping for me, touching yourself for me, moaning for me. How fucked up that is?” He snickers. “You have fucked up fantasies, my pretty detective, but I’m not one to judge. I’d gladly help.”

You laugh quietly, trying to look confident but it comes out shaky from your throat, “If you want to help, take the mask off and show me who you are.”

“Wow, wow, darling. Not so soon, I’m not one to burn stages in a relationship. What next? Want to meet my mom?”

You inhale sharply, and spit on him, “God, you’re insane.” Your eyes snap open when he pulls out of his back the sharp knife, your breath is stuck in your throat and fear runs all over your body. And once again you regret how impulsive you are. You did well all these past years of training and then on the first real-life experiences at pushing this side of you in the cage, but it looks like it’s coming out like a beast that’s been trapped too long.

“Don’t be so scared,” he huffs, the fake sympathy in his voice should make you mad but it triggers something else inside of you, and you hate to admit that he might be right, you’re enjoying this more than you should, you’re enjoying this entire chase more than you should. It’s like a game, but it’s not when real people are dying. “I would never hurt you,” his voice is raspy, slightly muffled by the ghost mask he’s wearing, and the knife sits on your sternum. “I hope you didn’t like this shirt too much, detective.”

You don’t have time to react, the steel cuts your shirt neatly, the sound bouncing in the small room and the sharp tip brushing your skin. You shiver, gulping hard and closing your eyes, already feeling the sensation of it cutting through you, but it doesn’t happen.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disappointingly. “You truly don’t trust me. I’m offended, and I don’t like when people offend me. Just like I don’t like when they hang up the phone while we’re playing. If people were respectful, I wouldn’t have to kill them, you know?” You stare at him with a furrow on your face, you’d like to take the mask off and see his eyes, not really to find out who’s hiding underneath that mask, but to see if his gaze is as insane as you imagine it to be.

“Let me go,” you say, the skin of your wrist bruised from the pressure you’re applying against the ropes.

“Don’t struggle too much, it turns me on,” he warns, kneeling at your level. He smiles softly and thinks it’s a pity you can’t see it, you’re just so pretty, with your beautiful face filled with different emotions and your eyes looking at him with a gaze that wants to be threatening but it’s all the opposite, almost making you look like a lost puppy.

“Why?”

“Why? It’s funny to see the victim beg for their life, it makes you feel powerful, you could show mercy, but you don’t,” the smug smile on his hidden face can be heard in his voice and you shiver at how cold he sounds, the shrug of his shoulder is just the cherry on top to his unhinged behaviour.

“So, you’re just going to keep me here?”

“No, I want to play with you. Do you want to play a game, detective?”

Your gaze falls on your thighs where his hand is placed again, the black gloves preventing it from leaving traces behind, as it slowly moves closer to your heat.

You snicker, pretending to play it cool, but your breath twitches at the contact. “’Cause if I said no you would stop?”

“Hey, I’m a killer, not a rapist,” he defends, shrugging. Yet, you still don’t reply, and he doesn’t like that. “So? I’m not so patient when I ask people if they want to play with me, so don’t test me.”

You swallow hard, swiftly looking around to see if you can pull a move on him. Damnit, it’s your chance to get him and throw him in jail but instead, you’re seriously thinking about his proposal. You fool yourself that you’re only doing this because maybe he could slip, maybe he could say something in the heat of the moment that could give you a clue, or he could leave his traces on you somehow, maybe his mask could fall, but you know you’re feeling something else. Attraction.

“I said,” he mutters, his face comes closer to yours, making you pull back, and the knife pushes flat in the hollow of your chest, “do you want to play a game, detective?”

“Yes, yes, I do,” you mutter, starting to breathe again when he pulls the knife away.

“Good, I love playing with you.” His fingers move to unbutton your jeans and then pull the zip down, you look at him attentively. “Lift your hips for me, love?”

You glare at him at the pet name but he only chuckles deeply. “What? If I’m rough with you, you get mad, if I’m sweet with you, you get mad. I can never win, can I?”

You huff, deciding it’s better to not reply and just do as he says. Your pants are quickly at your ankles and suddenly you feel even more trapped than before now that you can’t even move your legs, but his touch on your naked skin takes you away from that thought.

“Pretty panties just for me?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he stares at your burgundy panties with the lace trim. “Were you hoping to find me here so we could finish what we started on the phone?”

“Shut up, this is not for you,” you retort, your forehead creasing with a furrow.

“And who is it for?” He asks, cupping your pussy, watching your body shiver. “Oh, no, please don’t tell me there’s a boyfriend I’m not aware of. I’d hate to kill him.”

You bite your lips and keep the contact with the mask, but words struggle to come out when his index finger starts rubbing on your clit, moving from the slit —where you can feel you’re starting to get wet— to your sensitive nub. “It’s not for you,” you repeat, trying to don’t show how much his touch is affecting you.

“Well, you want me to work so hard too, I’ll have to find out on my own if someone is playing with what’s mine,” he replays nonchalantly. “I know where to find you, maybe I’ll come visit again.”

“You talk so much for someone who wants to play so badly,” you retort, a teasing grin curling your lips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know my princess was so eager,” he replies, saccharine voice filled with mockery, before a harsh slap lands on your pussy making you jolt and whimper. “Want my fingers?”

The glare you give him would be enough to kill him; isn’t this pathetic enough? How much more does he want you to humiliate yourself?

He rolls his head back and then the knife is against your neck again. “Do we have to do this every time I ask you a question? Do you want my fingers, detective?”

“Yes,” you whisper. Your body relaxes momentarily before tensing up with excitement again, but it quickly shifts to disappointment. “What are you doing?” You ask when his covered fingers press against you again.

“Oh, you’ll get the gloves too, I’m not dumb, you know? Don’t leave fingerprints on dead bodies, won’t even leave them on yours,” his voice is smug, all the confidence of someone who didn’t make a wrong move and somehow was always ahead of you and the police department.

You hate him. You hate he’s so much better than you at this. And you hate him even more now that he has you fighting whimpers and moans.

“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t like this while your hips are bucking up?” He taunts, clicking his tongue in a mock. “Think moaning is more pathetic than humping my fingers like a bitch in heat?”

Your mouth opens to retort but you can’t deny the evidence; your hips are rolling against his hand, chasing for more, your panties are darkening as your wetness leaks through the fabric and your chest is heaving in erratic motions.

“Look at me,” he sings, hand moving up to graze your neck, thumb pressing on your carotid, making your head snap up. “You listen so swiftly when you fear for your life. It’s funny, you know, because I truly would never hurt you.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, trying to pull away from his hold when his hand moves up to caress your jaw. The gentleness of his touch is even scarier than when he has his knife pointed against you. “Is this what turns you on? The fear in their eyes?”

His head tilts to the side, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Partially. But not in your case, what turns me on with you it’s the chase, and the fact I always win.”

You scoff bitterly, struggling in his hold but his hand quickly grips your chin and pulls you closer. “Didn’t you see the movies? The villain always dies.”

“If the heroine is not busy getting fucked by him,” he mocks, squeezing your face harder and moving his fingers faster on your clit. Your head rolls back and so do your eyes while a chocked moan leaves your lips. “See, I doubt you will shoot me in the head if you keep moaning like this.”

You groan angrily, you’re madder at you than you are at him. You want him and it’s so wrong that you do, but there’s not even a siren ringing in your head, telling you to make this stop.

“No, shh, shh, angel, it’s fine, this will be our little secret,” he whispers to your ear, the mask rubbing against your face, and when your eyes turn to look at him, you can see small dots of blood on the white varnish. “We could play another game: one secret for you, and one secret for me. If you behave, maybe I’ll reveal myself to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself.”

Your teeth sink into your lips harder when he delivers another harsh slap on your clit before resuming his quick movements. “Just — just tell me if I know you,” you mumble. You know he will never reveal himself, but maybe you can get something more, anything to complete the missing pieces of the puzzle.

He chuckles darkly, staring at a spot behind you as he pretends to think. “Mhh, we’ve met.”

You frown and your heart jumps in your throat for a moment at the thought you’ve seen him. “Only met?”

“We talked,” he adds, finally letting go of your face, making you breathe normally again.

Your eyes widen while your brain hurts as you try to quickly connect the dots, and find out who’s hiding underneath the mask, you just have to put a face on a voice — even if distorted, but you can’t. And suddenly realization slumps on you.

“Will it — will it break my heart?”

He snickers under his breath as he looks into your sad eyes, you’re looking at him like a dog when it’s being scolded, but in this case, you’re also silently praying he’s not someone close to you. He has no idea why that would make you feel better, if you care more about Ghostface or whoever is hiding under the mask, but it doesn’t matter, and he mocks you again, mimicking you in a high-pitched voice. “Will it hurt if I was someone close to you? A colleague? A friend? A lover?”

Your breath gets faster. Will it? Would you turn him in or defend him? And you can’t stand you’re even questioning it, of course you’ll turn him in, that’s your job, but most importantly, your duty. But will you? You could be doing it now, and you’re not.

“See? It’s not as funny if you know me,” he laughs at your face, your thoughts so loud he could get a headache. “It’s not as exciting, you love the thrill of this too, more than you like to admit.”

“Fuck,” you curse when his other hand cups your covered breast, it’s a harsh tug and the leather feels weird on your skin, yet, it makes you clasp your thighs and forget what was tormenting your morals, again.��

“They’re so perfect, I can’t believe you always keep them hidden under those ugly clothes,” he pouts, giving it another hard squeeze. “Sorry.”

“For what — what the fuck?” You scream when he cuts your bra with the knife, first the middle and then the straps, the matching burgundy bra falling in pieces on the bottom of the chair.

“It was getting in the way, and I don’t like things that get in my way. I cut them off,” in his voice lingers a hysterical laugh that makes you shiver, and in times like this, you’re glad you can’t see his face.

You gulp and automatically close your legs.

“Not you,” he reassures you, forcing your thighs open again with a smack, “you entertain me. And you suck at your job, so it’s clear you also don’t get in the way.”

“I’m good at my job and I will get you and put you behind bars —”

“Uh, uh,” he clicks his tongue, knife under your jaw before you can even finish the sentence, silencing you in an instant. “We were having so much fun, don’t ruin it, babe.”

You swallow and look down following the path he’s tracing with the knife, goosebumps bloom on your skin and you hold your breath when it gets closer to your neck, only releasing it when the blade sits in the hollow of your chest.

“It’s so funny how you shake like a leaf, I’m a professional,” he says, sounding almost offended. And you furrow, is he talking about the knife or his fingers? “Both, love.”

Another groan leaves your lips before he moves the crotch to the side and the cold air of the room hits your burning core. You’ve never been so ashamed your entire life, you shouldn’t be an open book to him, you shouldn’t be so malleable in his hands, it’s pathetic and humiliating.

“You’re so fucking wet. I’m quite pissed I can’t run to the police department and let them know how much I turn you on. I can already see the disappointment on their faces,” he taunts, the slick sound of his gloves against your dripping pussy burns your body in shame and excitement.

“Don’t you dare,” you spit out, but you don’t sound so menacing since your voice breaks, and a pathetically high-pitched moan rolls from your tongue right after.

“I said I’m not going to, I keep my promises,” he kneels to the ground, one hand keeping you spread more and the other is still busy taking care of you. “Maybe if you promise you won’t shoot or put me in handcuffs right away when you’ll find out who I am, I can eat you out. I bet you let out the prettiest moans when you have someone between your legs.”

Your head rolls back, and you hiss. “You wish,” you retort through gritted teeth, but a part of you dies to know what that would be like. “I will never give you the satisfaction.”

He laughs mockingly. “Maybe I should blindfold you and do it now, will you recognize me by that?” At those words your body tenses up, head standing straight again as you look down at him with terror in your eyes. “What?” He asks in a giggle, surprised by your reaction. “You’re fucking with me right now, I still have blood on me. Would that be the most problematic thing? Having fucked with me before? Without this mask?”

“You’re just messing with me,” you mutter but your brain is trying to think, the list of the people you’ve been with is not that long, he can’t be so stupid to out himself like that, right?

“Maybe… I love it when I can see you think,” he whispers. “Usually, you have your hands in your hair, pulling at it even if you just washed it or spent hours styling it, and then you nervously bite your right thumb, somehow there’s always a hangnail to pull until it bleeds, oh, and you also nervously walk back and forth, two steps forward, two steps back. It’s cute, really. You have no fucking clue how to stop this, but you look so into it, chasing after me… well, so you think because, let’s be honest, you’re only chasing after your tail.”

You can’t believe he knows all of this, how close to you is he? And a few names start popping into your mind, but for each face that you see, your only answer is it can’t be.

“Why are you surprised? I told you, I love watching you,” he says, voice scarily soft even through the distortion of the mask. “You’re very pretty, detective. When you work hard to catch me, and even more when you screw it all up to moan for me.”

“Ugh,” you groan through gritted teeth, wrist rubbing against the rope keeping you in place and hips bucking up, anger and pleasure mixing like a drug in your brain. You hate to admit it, but you’re close and you doubt you can push back your climax any longer.

“It’s alright, love, I told you, I won’t judge you,” he hums. He studies your face for a moment, admiring how your teeth trap your lips in the vain attempt to don’t truly show how much you’re enjoying this, but your eyes are filled with lust, lightly glassy, and your cum is painting his gloves white. “Now, will you come for me?”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your body shutters as the orgasm washes over you, the quick movements of his fingers on your sensitive clit making your nails dig into the palm of your hands while your moans slip out of you freely. Your morality disappears, getting dragged away with the orgasm that consumes you before leaving.

You forget where you are for a moment, or to be more precise, with who you are with, as you let your head roll back, close your eyes and take deep breaths, waiting for the high to pass.

The thing doesn’t bother Ghostface, though, he sees enough fear in people’s eyes, he likes it better when you stop pretending and relax around him. That’s the thrilling thing about you, you are the most entertaining game he has ever played. With all the others he knows how it will end, their lifeless bodies laying in a pool of their own blood and the sirens of the police going off in the background as he blends in with the crowd, but with you? It’s unknown. Like a Russian roulette.

He’d love to shred all your clothes off, but he knows you’d have to spill your guts (not literally) if you walk out of there completely naked, and he’s sure the version you would tell the police would add another crime to his name. So, he takes your shoes off and then pulls your pants down.

Your laugh makes him raise his face and stare at you. “What’s so funny, dollface?”

You shrug, wetting your lips. “You scare me more when you act all sweet, you know?”

He scoffs, standing up again, and caressing your face. “You want me to hurt you so badly. I could carve a heart right here,” he presses the tip of the blade next to your heart, tracing the shape of a heart, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. “It would look so pretty on you, and you will always carry me with you. Isn’t it nice? Couple goals.”

You raise a brow at him, he doesn’t even realize it, but he’s giving away so much of his personality, even if you don’t find it out now, you’re pretty positive all of this is leading you somewhere. You shake your head quickly, trying not to show how hard you’re thinking about your plan. “I only want one thing from you, and you know what it is.”

He chuckles, leaning next to your ear. “My dick.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you curse, accidentally kicking him now that your legs are free to move. You suck your breath in, fearing your move, even if involuntary, might piss him off.

He hisses but doesn’t do anything else. “Don’t get all bratty here, doll. You said you wanted to play a game, and we’re going to play it until the end.”

When he cuts your panties and balls them in his fist, saying “keeping them as a souvenir,” with a grin that can be heard in his voice, you only reply with an “asshole.”

Once again, he doesn’t pay your insults any mind, and you wonder why he’s so nice to you. Should you fear it? Will you be his last victim, getting the worst death of them all because he needs to put on a show? “Now I will untie you, if you play any trick on me… you know how it ends.”

You nod quickly, watching him disappear from your view as he stands behind you. You inhale when the knife places against your neck again and roll your eyes back. “You don’t have to do this every time, you know?”

“It turns you on,” he retorts firmly. “And I need to make sure you don’t do any funny business.”

Your eyes roll back again but you try to relax anyway and keep still when your wrists are finally free. Your shoulders are in a more comfortable position again as you subtly roll them to ease up. “Get up,” he orders, and you follow, moving carefully because the blade is still close to your body and you don’t want to end up dead on the floor. “Good, now lay on the mattress.”

Your face twists in disgust when you’re reminded of the mattress on the floor, but he pushes you forward.

“We didn’t kill anybody there.”

You stop, turning around swiftly, and his reflections are rapid enough that he doesn’t push the knife into your chest. “We?”

“Oh… it didn’t click yet…” He laughs darkly at your expression, the whole world falling on your shoulders as you wonder how could you be so stupid to not realize it. “Sorry, love. But hey, aren’t you happy I helped you out?”

You glare at him but then bring your hand to your hair and your thumb to your lips. Of course, there are two of them, that’s the only way they could always be so headed of you.

“Not the right moment to think about that,” he warns, voice dropping lower, making you stop your nervous ticks. “Get on the bed.”

You turn around again, suddenly aware that he’s completely covered and you’re bare. That thought makes you seek the cover of the mattress more, and swiftly you’re laying where he wants you. But it also turns you on, being so exposed to him while he’s giving you not even a peak of who’s under the mask and the clothes send chills down your body and more cum drips out you.

“Promise you’ll be good? We can play cat and mouse later if you want to,” he asks, the blade running flat on your boobs, making him chuckle darkly when your nipples harden at the contact and your hips buck up. “You promise, detective?” He repeats with urge when you don’t reply, too busy watching the knife move on your body as he pins you down.

“Promise,” you reply, looking into the blackness of the eyes of the mask.

He chuckles under the mask, and you watch him unbuckle his pants. You could easily grab the weapon that’s on your stomach and stab him, you could even un-mask him, but you lay still, almost mesmerized. And the conscience inside of you likes to remind you how fucked up you and your morals are, but you brush it off, shaking your head quickly.

“Turn around,” he orders, but you hesitate. That’s too much vulnerability. It’s clear he doesn’t like your hesitation when he groans, grabbing the knife and pushing it aside. “God, I have to do everything with you,” he sighs as he forcefully flips you on your stomach before his legs trap you again. This time you can’t do anything even if you want to, but once again, you don’t want to.

“Fuck,” he moans, hands cupping your full ass and squeezing hard, the firm hold eliciting a moan from you. “Look at you, so fucking pretty. Keep your head down, don’t try to even get a peak,” he warns, and your immediate reaction is to turn around to understand what’s going on, but you know better, so you press your face into the pillow and only when you hear the loud sound of a spit and a glob of saliva drip between your folds you understand what happened. “Not that it was needed, you’re dripping. But you know, I like to get messy at times.”

You turn your face around, resting your head on the pillow, and bite your lips. The smugness and insanity of his voice causing more cum to ooze out of your pussy.

“I want to feel you so bad,” he hums, spreading your cunt, making you feel so exposed, “but will you run to the police? Will you tell them ‘oh no, I had to fuck Mr. Ghostface to have a bit of his DNA and save the town from this psycho’?” he mocks with a high-pitched voice, it doesn’t sound like you at all, more like a hopeless, brain-dead, blonde girl that dies within the first minutes of any horror movie.

You snicker. “You underestimate me, I could say I got those traces from somewhere else.”

“But will you? Also, I’m pretty sure they will find traces of you too. How humiliating would that be? Come on, honey, I won’t blackmail you, but you will screw yourself over? That’s not very smart of you.”

He’s right, you hate that he’s right. You will have to out yourself in the process of trying to turn him in. “I — I won’t.”

Deep down he knows you won’t, there’s no way they won’t trace it back at you too, and he also knows you won’t try to play the victim when you’re not, but he needs to be conscious, one wrong step and you could turn the game around. As much as he likes to mock you, he knows you’re smart and have been close to discovering them a few times, it was a matter of luck, and they were extremely lucky.

“Better safe than in jail,” he chuckles darkly, you don’t even try to peer around, and only listen to the plastic of the condom rip.

You whimper when you feel the tip against your slit, and you hide your face in the pillow as if that could change the reality of what you’re willingly doing. You’re too excited to be so ashamed of your actions, but, even if some may argue your morality is nowhere to be found, it still feels like a big balloon hovering over you.

You shiver when you feel the mask rest on your shoulder, “Nah, ah, angel, no being ashamed now. I told you I don’t like rude people, so don’t be rude and ask me nicely to fuck you.”

The urge to slap him is stronger than anything else, but once again your greed makes him win. “Please… please fuck me.”

“Not what I want to hear, you know what I want. We practiced the other night, haven’t we?” He reminds you, a hand creeping around your neck, holding tight enough to make buzzes of fear run through your bones.

You close your eyes, inhaling as deeply as you can while trying to find the courage to humiliate yourself one last time, but then the words slip out, “Please, fuck me, Ghostface,” and the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he pushes into you. It’s a strong, deep thrust that fills you to the brim and knocks you over. Your head falls against the pillow again while his loud groan fills your ears, “Fuck, it sounds so good from your lips.”

“Oh, fuck,” you curse through gritted teeth when he starts moving right away, barely giving you time to adjust to the feeling, thick dick grazing your insides and strong hands wrapping around your waist tightly.

“Is it too much for you, detective? My sweet little angel can’t take it?”

A groan slips past your lips, you try to stand up on your elbows, but he pushes you down. His body presses against your back and you feel trapped again. “Don’t move. I will fuck you so deep into this mattress that I will feel your scent for days after this. I want your face smashed against the pillow, I want it to be wet with your ruined makeup and tears, got it? ”

You nod quickly, shoulders dropping as you slump against the mattress. His breathing next to your ear makes you shiver, and you wonder if that’s the last thing the non-so-lucky people have met him heard before dying. But you push it away, for the sake of your sanity, you have to fool yourself that you’re not so attracted to a bloody murderer, that your morals are still intact, and that you are a good person.

It’s pathetic how all the anger you feel disappears with each calculated thrust, pleasure getting to your brain so quickly you stop holding back. Soft whimpers and moans roll out of your tongue and unconsciously your ass grinds back into him.

“Fuck, that’s what I want to hear,” he hums, standing up while his hands wrap around your waist. He never wanted to burn those gloves so badly, feeling the urge to feel your burning skin and mark you with his bare hands, but he can’t risk it. That doesn’t mean he can’t leave marks in other ways. One hand leaves your hips and cups your boob, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Have I told you they’re so pretty?”

“Mhh,” you mumble, eyes closing as he pinches down on your nipple. You wish you could say it hurt you but instead, it makes you clench hard around him, cum leaking out more with each pinch on your delicate, sensitive buds.

“Shit, you really are into pain,” he comments, there’s mockery in his voice —like always— but there’s also a genuine surprise. “Who would’ve thought, my innocent detective is way more fucked in the head than I thought.”

“I — I’m not,” you retort, groaning and forcing your eyes open, but the deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest makes you quiver, and your attitude drops in a moment.

“Honey,” he slurs, voice dipped in honey, “you’re letting Ghostface fuck you dumb, you are fucked in the head.”

You shake your head quickly, but he’s had enough of your lies. The rough tug at your hair makes you let out a choked gasp as your head is lifted from the pillow. “I know you better than anyone else, angel,” he groans, mask pressed against your hot face. “I know your dirty, little secrets. I know what runs into that dirty, little mind of yours. You can’t lie to me,” he almost purrs, a low chuckle making shame fire up inside of you, “and I can feel you, princess. Squeezing me, barely allowing me to pull out to fuck back into you. Fuck — I should feel you right now, no stupid rubber between us.”

Another broken moan slips from your lips when he roughly lets go of the hold on you, your fingers clench hard around the thin sheet under you, and your hips jerk up even more. It’s like you want to feel him more, to have him imprint himself deep into you, so far under your skin that you won’t be able to wash him off, and you don’t even know why you feel like this. Why it made you feel like this a week prior too, all the hesitation and fear as you picked up the phone and heard his breathy, distorted voice, flying out of the window the moment he started ordering you around. But was it truly an order when your only hesitation came from the fear of judgement, and you could only feel your body tingle with excitement? Sitting in front of the window, having no idea where he was hiding, putting on a show for the killer you swore you hated and making yourself come the hardest you’ve ever done.

“It makes you feel special, doesn’t it? The way you’re the only exception. The only one I would never hurt.” His voice is lower, hitting you to the core, making your toes curl and your breath falter in your chest. “You’re like a daisy in a garden of bloody, red roses.”

“Please,” you breathe out, choking on your tongue, eyes fluttering open shyly.

“Want me to stop?” He coos, head cocking to the side as he lands a sharp slap on your asscheek that makes you hiccup on a whimper and then another to your boob that drags a louder cry out of you. “Don’t want to hear how special you are?”

But that’s not what you meant. Your pleads were about something else, something you struggle to confess.

A deep laugh resonates in his chest as he looks down at your already wrecked face. You’re so precious, he can’t believe you sometimes think he could hurt you. His prettiest game, his wildest fantasy. The thrill he feels in his bones every time he’s close to you, so, so near to being discovered and yet always safe. It’s exciting, getting to his brain so much he can hardly hide how much it turns him on. But you’ve never been this close before. He dreamed about fucking you, having you pressed under him, begging, moaning and crying as his dick hit deep into your sweet pussy, pounding into you over and over again until you were nothing but mush in his hands. He wanted to strip you down completely and leave nothing of the women he sees and admires every single day. He dreamed of having all this power over you, watching you get weak on your knees and let him do anything he wanted, watching your body convulse in pleasure and your brain empty. And here you are now; wet, fucked-out eyes looking up at him while your pretty, plump mouth opens and closes as your shut-down brain tries hard to find the words.

“Speak up, princess. I don’t like to wait.”

“Please, wa-want to feel you,” you slur in a whisper, eyes blinking lazily as you try to hold onto what’s left of your sanity.

He chuckles, his thrusts coming to a stop that makes you whine in disappointment. “You want me to fuck you raw, detective?”

You hum, nodding slowly, not for the lack of enthusiasm but for the amount of shame that’s looming over you like a tornado. But Ghostface doesn’t like your silences, he doesn’t like it when you hesitate, that’s not what turns him on about you. It’s your impulses, the way you jump into things headfirst without thinking, for some it may be dumb, but to him, it’s just that sprinkle of insane bravery that makes life exciting. Your head is yanked up again with a rough pull of your hair, but his hold quickly moves to your neck. “I thought we were over the phase where I have to drag the words out of your mouth, detective. I’ll ask nicely one last time, do you want me to fuck you raw?”

You swallow your pride and reply meekly, “Ye-yes.”

He chuckles, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking in again with no warning, knocking the air out of your lungs, air that’s already struggling to fill them as his hold on your neck doesn’t loosen up. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it? Even your stupid brain could put two words together.”

You gasp for air when he finally lets go and your face sinks on the pillow again.

“I’d love to, but I won’t risk it. Maybe next time, maybe if I’ll ever feel like telling you who I am,” he replies, and you groan in disappointment. Not only he doesn’t give you what you want but he also mocks you, reminding you why you’re here and how your mission flushed down the toilet as you let him play you like a violin.

“Then — fuck — please, fuck me harder,” at this point you want him to fuck you so hard your brain will just unplug and your superego can stop nagging at the back of your mind. You don’t want a single thought in your brain, just pleasure and lust.

“That I can give it to you,” he hums happily, and in a second, he complies. His hips start snapping against you at a fast speed, his tip hitting you deep repeatedly as he keeps you arched back with one hand around your waist and the other one wrapped around the makeshift ponytail he made with your hair.

You can already feel the orgasm build up at the tip of your stomach, but it only worsens when Ghostface roughly pulls you flat against him. Your head falls behind on his shoulder, eyes rolled far in your skull as your lips hang open to let out desperate moans and suck in as much air as possible.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he moans, his thumb rubs against your neck and jaw while his right hand squeezes and pulls your boobs hard before pinching the nipples. “Listen to those pretty sounds you make,” he snickers, “and you still want to pretend you’re innocent and pure? You’re fucked up just like me, baby, that’s why I like you so much,” he slurs.

You blink, once again adjusting to the light is uncomfortable but you make out just in time the fact he’s holding a Polaroid camera. “Smile for the camera, babe,” his voice rings in your ears but doesn’t reach your brain and before you know it, you’re coming just like that. The look on your face is not a smile but an expression of blissed pleasure, the exact moment as the climax explodes inside of you, making you clench around his dick and shake in his arms, your arm twisting back, letting your hand claps on his bicep and sink your nail in the thick fabric of the black cloak.

Ghostface would like to say he’s disappointed and scold you for misbehaving, but he can only stare at you with amused disbelief written all over his face. But you only see the constant expression of the mask and once again, you fear for a second he’s mad at you. Truth be told, he could even kill you right now, you wouldn’t mind much or even notice, too lost in the pleasure that’s still looming on your body.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hips slowing down until they stop completely, “you just gifted me the most precious pic in my collection,” he whispers. You feel like the edge of mockery is still persistent but at the same time something genuine lingers in it, it doesn’t make it less creepy, but the ‘fuck me harder method’ worked because you don’t question his, and yours, fucked morality and just smile dumbly.

And that smile, united with the slow bat of your wet eyelashes, is what he needs to lose it.

“Oh, fuck it, I’ll clean you up once we’re done and if you’ll try to turn me in, I’ll find out, so you better keep your promise, alright?”

You don’t get what he’s talking about right away, too fucked out as you lay on the mattress waiting for his next move, but when he pulls out of you and swiftly pulls the condom out, you get it. You bite your lips in anticipation and swing your hips in invitation.

The sight would be enough to make him come right there, and he damns himself because out of all people, you can’t be his biggest weakness. It got to be some fucking joke of destiny. “Will you go to the police?”

“No,” you mumble.

“Good girl, because these little games are just for us, me and you, you can’t use what we do here to help you with your case.” When he sinks inside of you again, he feels like he could lose it all for the way your wet, warm walls wrap around him. “Fuck, fuck,” he curses, voice even more distorted now that he murmurs through gritted teeth, “you feel so fucking good.”

His thrusts now are almost primal, desperately pounding you against the mattress, keeping you pinned down with a hand on the back of your head —not that you need that, you wouldn’t be able to hold your neck up even if you wanted to— and holding for dear life on your hips with the other. You’ll probably have some bruises by the end of the night, if not colored prints on your skin, surely light discomfort at the touch will follow you for a few days. And you almost want to beg him for more, to mark you in some other ways, to leave something just for you to see and carry with you. Sick and perverted thoughts cross your mind, and you push them away swiftly.

You bite down on your lips when his hand leaves your side to torture your nipples again, he can barely push his hand between your body and the mattress, but he has just enough space to play with your sensitive nipples, making them even harder and causing you to clench even more around him. He loves how sensitive you are there and how each rub, pinch, and slap has you easily squirming and moaning under him.

“Look at you, going all dumb on my cock,” he groans, mockingly giving one harsh slap to your tits before his fingers trace your cheek. Your skin is so hot he can almost feel it through the fabric separating you, but what he’s most fascinated about are your tears, black mascara running down your beautiful face, dying on the pillow and your tortured parted lips. “Are you still thinking about being better than me or — fuck — have you finally embraced your dark side?”

Not a word comes out of your mouth when you whimper back, and not even a thought crosses your mind.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins smugly. “You know,” he breathes out, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to contain the orgasm, but he doesn’t want it to end so soon, “you should fire yourself and be my toy, just my toy, every time I need you, everywhere I need you. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? It’d make you feel even more special.”

You mumble a weak reply, it’s a whispered ‘no,’ but your body doesn’t deny how much the thought turns you on. Too many responsibilities in your life and your job, too much to carry daily, but right now? Nothing. Guilt will eat you alive tomorrow but not now. Something feels exciting about being on the run with him, being the one that runs, instead of the one that chases. But it won’t happen, you believe in your job, and you want this slasher to end.

“Cause only I can get you like this, ugh,” he grunts, hips slamming faster but more sloppily against your ass, the vulgar sounds filling up the room. “No man before and no man after will make you come this hard. Nobody, love. No matter how much you’ll want to, they all will disappoint you and you will look for me in every single one of them,” he groans, each word punctuated by a harsh slam of his hips, “well, the lucky ones that will get a taste before I’ll get them and kill them.”

You don’t reply, just lay there, looking like a mess as you try to fight another orgasm because coming again would be humiliating.

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” You can hear the grin on his face and his voice has the edge of insanity of the usual. “Let’s be honest, you’ve got a list of shitty partners, you would’ve been grateful if I got rid of some of them.”

“Fuck, just — just fuck me,” you beg, your hand reaching behind to touch him somehow, but he doesn’t like it.

He grips your hand and pins it behind your back bending your arm, you hiss in discomfort, but he doesn’t let go. “Oh, no, angel. You don’t make the rules in this game, I do. If I want to sink into your brain and get so deep into you that I’ll make sure you will never come out the same, I will. I’m the darkest side of yourself, the fucked up filth you’re too afraid to face,” he groans. “And I know you’re close again. Your tight cunt is squeezing me, and you made a mess on the mattress,” he snickers. “Imagine if they find this place, this mattress, your DNA on it,” he stops, leaning next to your ear, voice dropping lower, “or better, imagine if they find us now. What do you say, detective? Would they be disappointed? Would they just jack off at the view? You look so hot right now, I wouldn’t blame them if they’d get off to you, to us together. Kill them surely, blame them not. We’re so hot, detective.”

You squirm under him, feeling like the room is spinning fast and you can’t ground on anything. You have a darker thought in mind, something you can’t confess to him or else he won’t stop mocking you. You want to get caught, but not by your colleagues, by his partner. What would he do if he saw you and his partner in crimes like this? Would he understand this, or would he snap? Maybe even feeling betrayed. Does he even know you and him have been playing this game of attraction for a while now?

Your silence doesn’t make Ghostface suspect anything. You simply look totally fucked out, brain empty as you plead in soft whimpers and moans.

“You sound so fucking good,” he praises. “Why don’t we play another little game, uh?”

Your eyes open in surprise and you hum with no strength, “what?”

“Beg me to save your life,” he says, grabbing the knife again and placing it close to your neck. “Come on, do it for me, I won’t ever hear you say it because I will never want to kill you. Please, detective,” he coos, hips slowing down because your pussy is fogging his brain and he’s not sure his always-perfect aim and reflexes will work right now.

You take a deep breath and then speak. “Please, Ghostface, please, spare my life.”

His head rolls back, and a deep, groggy moan comes out of his lips. “Fuck, yes, keep going,” he orders, hips picking up the rhythm again as he skillfully flips the blade to the lesser sharp side just to be safe.

And you obey. You beg, choked-up words slipping from your lips that soon turn into please, fuck me harder, and then please, wanna come. You feel boneless, your body is too hot, and you feel you might pass out, you need a release and then hope something bigger than you will make you get back on your legs and walk out of there as if nothing happened, as if you never followed your guts and found his —their— safe haven.

“Come for me, love,” he orders, throwing the knife to the side before his hand sneaks under your body to roughly slap your clit a few times, enjoying the louder moans he drags out of you by doing so and watching with pleasure as your body squirms and shakes. “And don’t forget to smile for the camera.”

This time your eyes lock with the polaroid that he points toward your face as his chin rests on your shoulder. But it only lasts for the time of the picture, your body collapses again when he lets go of your hair and you let the pleasure pervade you from head to toe. It’s breathtaking and mind-blowing, and next time you’ll fuck someone else you’ll hate that he’s right. You will feel him everywhere, you will feel his dick deep inside of you every time your fingers will desperately try to take its place, and every time you’ll let someone in your bed, but you don’t hate that thought as you should.

“Fuck,” he groans, giving you a few more pumps to make sure you rode your high before slipping out and then roughly flipping you over. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation —honestly, you were struggling to keep them open in the first place.

Your heaving chest, your parted lips still letting out cries, your wet cheeks, and your trembling closed thighs are the last drop he needs to let go. Deep moans reach your ears while his hot cum drops on your face, most on your skin but some in your mouth, and they get even louder when you shyly swallow it and lick your lips for more.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re —” he gasps but doesn’t finish, holding onto nothing as he empties himself all over your face. “Fuck.”

He feels dizzy, the orgasm still shaking him up, but then he looks at you and has to bite back a moan. The white strings of cum are covering your blissed face, your eyelashes are clumped together by the tears, and your lips are plump and darker, he knows he doesn’t want to forget what you look like right now. “Smile one last time, baby.”

And you do, the corners of your mouth lift and then you hear the click of the polaroid. You think for a second you should’ve told him to don’t take them, he could easily blackmail you, or straight-up get you fired, but once again, you don’t truly care, and you don’t deny how much the idea of those photos turned you on.

You should get up, grab your pants, jacket, shoes and leave. But you feel heavy and tired, you’re still shaking, and your breath didn’t go back to normal, yet.

“Don’t worry, detective,” Ghostface whispers, something passes on your face to clean you from the mess, but you don’t know what, and only then you open them ajar, just to see he’s still wearing his mask. “I’ll take care of you.”

The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see.

When you wake up, you’re in your bed, wearing your nightwear, completely cleaned up, but your bones and muscles are still sore, and a terrible headache is throbbing in the left side of your brain. You turn around, rubbing your eyelids with your palms before you can fully focus on the pillow and see three things on it. The Ghostface mask, a polaroid of you two from before, his face next to yours as he pulled your hair, and a note.

“It was a pleasure playing with you, my pretty detective. Can’t wait to see what our next game will be like♡ ”

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moodywyrm · 1 year

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Lets talk about how hot Lin Beifong is bc she's dreamy tbh. I can't decide if I imagine her as a gentle or rough lover, maybe she's a little bit of both? I do hc that she wouldn't be vocal until she orgasms, and that it would take lots of time and trust for her to let you get her there

absolutely based off of my lil conversation with pink heart nonnie. chubby gf implied.

I'm thinking about Lin being stressed beyond belief on a trip to Zaofu that you and the gang convinced her to go. She didn't really care for the urging of the over-enthusiastic young adults, but she really couldn't deny her wife. Especially not when you mentioned that she'd have you all to herself, instead of having to share your attention with Korra and Asami as they plan their next excursion to the Spirit Realm. She'd be able to spend a full week with you, no obligations and nothing but free time to spend being fawned over by her pretty little wife. Now how could she say no to that?

Except, now that she was in Zaofu, she remembered why she didn't want to come in the first place. She loves her sister and her nieces and nephews, she really does, but she can only deal with them so much before she snaps.

Your being as attentive as you can, but when she starts getting extra unreasonably snippy with Su at dinner, you know you have to act fast. With a few quick words and stern hands, you guide her out of the dining hall and back to your rooms. By the time you close the door behind you, Lin is sitting on the bed, huffing and grinding her jaw.

"Don't do that, you'll hurt yourself," You chide, walking over to her and standing between her spread legs, threading one gentle hand through her silver hair. She hums, running her hands up your thighs, resting on your waist and tugging you into her.

With her forehead pressed against your tummy, her words are muffled. "Mmmm, I know, I know. Always looking out for me."

"It's my duty as your wife, honey, just like it's my duty to stop you from damaging your relationship with your sister again," You grumble, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and wrapping her in a hug, letting her push her face into you. Her grip on your waist tightens and then releases, softly rubbing at the flesh. She exhales, relaxing under your touch until she looks up, pressing her chin into you as she looks up at you.

"Thank you dear, it was a good idea, getting me out of there. I'm sorry I've been so stressed this whole trip, ruining our only vacation in who knows how long," She sighs, eyes apologetic and hands clinging to you as she tugs you into her lap. Your thighs are pressed to her sides, warm, soft flesh grounding her as she wraps her arms around your waist.

You bring your hands up, cupping her face and stroking a thumb across her cheekbone, looking at her with so much softness she nearly tears up. "You're not ruining anything, Lin. You're just stressed, it's okay. I get the same way around my family."

"I just get so frustrated, I try not to but sometimes I just can't help it," Lin sighs, pressing a kiss to your palm and tugging you into her a little more, accidentally rocking your hips against hers. The intimacy of the situation, the combined tension from being so pent up for so long, and the desire to ease your wife's worries, cause a little pearl of an idea to build in your head.

"You know, you could get that frustration out in a more ... productive ... fashion," You murmur, running your hands down to rub at her tense shoulders.

Lin's eyebrows go up, immediately catching the hint as she runs her hand down to grip at your ass. "Oh yeah? Care to share what you mean by 'productive'?"

You whimper at her rough hands gripping you, slowly starting to rock you against her. "Mmhm, you can take your frustrations out on me. I mean, there's no better stress reliever than an orgasm, or two, or three."

"You know, you're absolutely right my dear," Lin murmurs, moving one hand up to tug you into a kiss, keeping her rough, calloused hands against the nape of your neck. She presses her lips against yours in a rough, passionate kiss, bruising your soft lips as you whimper against her. One of your hands trails down to her chest, past her tummy to grip at the hem of her tank top, impatiently tugging it up her body.

Lin lands one rough smack on your ass in response to your impatience. "Calm down, brat."

"Fucking need you Lin, 's been too long," You groan, nipping at her bottom lip and pulling at her shirt. Lin huffs, placing both hands on your ass to flip you over and throw you down on the bed, crawling over you and yanking her shirt off, her bra following suit.

"Happy now? Couldn't have just been good for me, now I gotta fuck the brat out of you," She snaps, grabbing your roaming hands and pinning them above your head with an always-attractive show of metal-bending. She's done it so often now, it's second nature to be gentle with you, making sure the metal is rounded and dull, leaving you room to wiggle but not to escape.

"Wasn't being a brat, just wanted to see you," You huff, bucking your hips up into her as she shoves your shirt up above your tits, exposing your soft mounds – and distinct lack of a bra – to the cold room. She grunts, roughly pawing at your chest with one hand while the other yanks your pants down. In a matter of minutes she has you right where she wants you, nearly naked and almost completely exposed.

"You're a fucking brat, now where is my strap? I know a pretty little slut like you would've packed at least one of them," She teases, landing a rough smack to the outside of your thigh, laughing when you squeal.

"Shit, it's in my bag, the green one," You pant, spreading your thighs even wider in anticipation. Lin hums and slides off the bed, stripping off her pants and underwear before walking over to your bag and pulling out the girthy, six-inch, forest green strap attached to a worn-in harness.

She knows this is your favorite strap, with just how thick it is, the detailed veins that drag against your sensitive walls, and the pretty mushroom tip that she loves to press against your gushy little spot. Not to mention the fun little feature it comes with: another side, which presses into Lin as she fucks you, leaving her shaky and determined to make you cum. She's smirking as she pulls it on, sliding her side into her, tightening the harness around her hips and making her way back to your writhing form on the bed. You watched her little performance whining at every inch of exposed skin and muscle, the soft groan Lin let out when she slip it inside, the way the harness tightened around her ass and thighs.

You're basically vibrating with excitement when Lin climbs back onto the bed, sliding between your legs and tugging your thighs up around her waist. You know she's not gonna fuck you just yet but you try anyway, bucking your hips against the veiny silicone.

"Quit fucking moving," Lin barks, placing one sharp smack against your clit before sliding her fingers down to your leaking hole. She spreads your slick all over your cunt, slicking up the dildo with your juices before pushing one finger into you, followed by two more.

You're melting under her touch, hips twitching as she fucks three fingers into you, curving up into your g-spot just to see you cry out for her.

"Lin, Lin please, honey, need you," You plead, bringing your bound hands down to claw at her stomach. It pulls a groan out of her, seeing you so needy, knowing it's been too damn long since she last had you like this.

"Well since you said please," She teases, gripping her shaft and lining it up with your needy cunt, slowly pressing in. You choke out a moan at the stretch, trying to keep still as Lin pushes all the way in, the base of the harness grazing your clit. It causes the other side to push deeper into her, brushing against her sensitive spots and making her shaky.

She gives you a moment to adjust – also giving her a moment to collect herself – before pulling out and slamming back in. She sets a brutal pace, wanting to fuck the frustration out of her body and give you what you asked for. Lin hikes your hips higher on her thighs, trying to get the perfect angle as she fucks into you with no mercy.

"Ah- fuck, Lin, 's perfect, you're perfect," You moan, hands pressed against her lower tummy as she works you over, finally finding your spot when you wail and tremble against her, scratching your nails against her.

"Right there? Yeah, I know honey, just let me take care of it," She grunts, doubling her efforts and snapping her hips against you even harder. You're crying, moaning out her name and squealing with each punch of her strap against your spot, getting closer and closer to the edge. Lin's not much better, only working the other side into her even harder as she tries to get you to fall apart.

Without saying a word, she pushes your hands down from her tummy and onto your clit, letting you rub at the neglected bud as she keeps you spread open. It pushes you over, creaming around her strap as you cry and try to keep playing with your clit, feeling it twitch beneath your finger tips. You're shaking, bucking against Lin's hips as you cum around her strap, but she never lets up, fucking you through it.

You have no chance to come down, letting Lin fuck you into another beautiful high, this one more intense than the first. She would usually be kinder about it, but the way you tightened around her strap made the other side grind against her just right, pushing her into an orgasm.

"Ha-ah, shit, dear, mmh," She grunts, pressing all the way in and grinding into you as she shakes above you. It's all made more intense by the way you tremble beneath her, leaking around her strap as you whiteout for a split second.

You two stay like that, shaking against each other as your orgasm course through you, all the frustration and tension leaking out of Lin.

By the time your breathing returns to normal, you're still shaky, but Lin is slipping out of you as gently as possible, pulling the strap off and throwing it across the room. She's up in an instant, grabbing wet wipes and clean towels to clean you two up. She's so unbearably gentle with you, massaging your hips to eliminate some of the soreness, cleaning you up enough so that you could comfortably sleep.

It takes a second, but she finally slides back into bed, pulling you into her chest. "Thank you dear, I needed that."

Her words are uncharacteristically soft, or at least they would be to anyone but you. She's pressing soft kisses and caresses to your skin, soothing you to sleep in her arms.

Before you drift away, she hears one last, gentle little murmur.

"Mm, I love you, my sweet wife," with a soft kiss pressed to the divot of her chest. It melts her down to her core, letting her drift off to sleep with no worries.

lin beifong I love u I would treat you so right please please please ,,, also I was watching TLOK as I wrote this and I got to Book Four and Kuvira ...... kuvira juvira kyvir akuyvir avkrui my baby I need her

#anon #lin beifong #tlok smut #lin beifong x reader #lin beifong smut #lin beifong x reader smut #tlok x reader #tlok x reader smut

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mlmxreader · 8 months

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The Accidental Husband | Johnny Cage x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ okay but here me out...when johnny and all of them are chilling in that bar,,,Skarlet introduces his younger brother (m!reader) Johnny immediately starts flirting with him and m!reader admits that he’s a huge fan of his movies and they both get too drunk and wake up in a random hotel room with wedding rings on bc they got married while blackout drunk 😩 ❞

: ̗̀➛ your sister introduces you to a... friend of hers, although things go a little too well.

: ̗̀➛ heavy drinking/alcohol consumption, swearing, reader is adopted/not a blood relative to Skarlet

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

A long, long time ago, Skarlet had taken pity on a young boy who had no family; he was younger than she was, starving and scared. She wasn't sure what else to do with him, so she took the boy as her own brother; she helped raise him, and although he was never any good at Blood Magik, he showed promise elsewhere.

For years, it was just you and your sister, and when you were a little older, she allowed Liu Kang to introduce you to Kuai Liang; you showed promise within the Lin Kuei where you stayed. Skarlet visited as often as she could, despite the protests of the Grandmaster. It was there that you discovered Johnny Cage's films, and although some of them were absolutely awful, you would watch anything with him in it.

You were a huge fan, but you figured that it would be embarrassing to admit such a thing, especially to your own sister; she would never stop teasing you about it if she ever knew. So you kept it quiet.

You told Kuai Liang, only because he caught you skipping duties to watch one of Cage's new films; he just smiled and shook his head, telling you to crack on as soon as the film ended. Kuai Liang was always good to you like that; calm, reassuring, strong and patient. Gentle.

You looked up to him, and when you accidentally called him Uncle, he never held it against you or told your sister; but Kuai Liang was the closest thing you ever had to a father, and although he never treated you any differently to the other Lin Kuei, he was always kind.

He even allowed you to have "extra training" with his brother Tomas, which merely meant an excuse to watch Johnny Cage's films for a few hours together.

When you were trained enough to go out on your own, nearly halfway through your twenties, Skarlet picked you up. She took you to the nearest city, and as she was walking with you, she couldn't help but to laugh smugly to herself.

You were a little apprehensive, and couldn't understand why she wore a long, flowing red and black dress instead of her usual armour. It seemed a bit impractical, even if you were wearing a black hoodie and pale grey jogging bottoms that had been given to you by Tomas.

"I've got someone to introduce you to," she told you with a sly smile.

You looked at her with a raised brow. "Please tell me it's not Erron. You know I told him I wasn't interested."

"No," Skarlet shook her head. "It's someone you've never met before, and- in here."

You followed her into a nice restaurant, a little apprehensive; your sister could scheme and could be sly. She taught you how to do so yourself, but you knew that you could always trust her and that, if she had someone who she wanted you to meet, then you could probably trust them.

So you shrugged, and when she brought you to a quieter table, you didn't really question much. She ordered a glass of red wine while you got yourself an energy drink with a shot of vodka. Idle conversation with your sister followed until the drinks arrived, but just as you were about to take your first swig, you nearly choked on nothing.

"Is that-"

"Johnny Cage," Skarlet smiled, standing up and shaking his head. "You showed up."

Johnny nodded. "Well, yeah, Kuai Liang told me it was important - might be useful for my next film and-"

"Holy. Shit."

He looked at you, taking note of your appearance, and grinned. "Hello, handsome."

"Hi," you said quietly, feeling all too nervous. "I, uhm… hi."

Johnny pushed past your sister to sit next to you, his arm stretched out across the back of your chair. "I'm Johnny."

"I, I'm- I know," you said softly, hoping you didn't look too much like a deer in the headlights. He was even more handsome up close.

"He's a big fan," Skarlet told him. "Johnny, meet my brother."

Johnny laughed softly, not taking his attention from you. "Big fan?"

You nodded. Words had left you, and you weren't sure if you wanted them back or not. He was so pretty with his big brown eyes and his silly grin. You swallowed thickly, laughing nervously. "Sorry…"

"Oh, don't be," he shook his head. "If I knew all my fans were this good looking, I think I'd have it written into my contract that my press tours should be longer."

You laughed softly. "Thank you…"

Skarlet rolled her eyes, knowing her job had been done; she finished her glass of wine, and walked away, making sure to give the staff a tip before she left properly.

Johnny looked you up and down shamelessly. "Y'know, you've got leading man looks - have you ever thought about acting?"

You shook your head, stuttering nervously. "Uh, no…"

"You should," he mused. "You could really make it big, looking like that… Kuai Liang trained you, right?"

You nodded. "And Tomas."

"So he's handsome and he can fight," Johnny grinned. "Let me guess, you can cook and clean, too?"

"Yu-yeah."

"The full package," he put his hand on your shoulder. "How are you not married?"

You shrugged. "Just not something I ever, uhm… it's just not, uhm…"

"Don't be nervous," Johnny said quietly, moving to sit a little closer. "I know I'm a big time, handsome, movie star - but you're in safe hands with me… although… it's probably me who's in safe hands with you, right?"

You laughed softly, and Johnny felt his head spin a little at the sound; you knocked back your shot of vodka, hoping it would give you some confidence. "I, uhm…I need a drink."

"It's on me," Johnny told you, flagging down the waiter and getting six shots. The first round. "Handsome guy like you… it's only right I should buy your drinks."

You felt like your heart was going to pop out of your chest; Johnny Cage, a man you had been a fan of for who knew how many years, thought you were handsome. Fuck. You knew that the night would end somewhere wonderful. You didn't really want it to end.

There was one round, then another, and another, and you lost track after you started kissing Johnny in the alleyway after you had gone out for a cigarette; you weren't really sure what happened after that, but when you woke up, you were confused.

It was clearly a hotel room given the pristine painted walls and the lack of dust, the duvet around your waist was white and soft, yet a little stale. There was someone in the bed next to you, and when you gently pulled back the duvet, you wanted to scream.

Johnny Cage was in your bed. Or you were in his. Either way.

He turned over, opening one eye as he grinned.

"Hello, handsome."

"Johnny Cage is in my bed," you breathed out, staring at him.

"Mild correction, sweetheart," he groaned, sitting upright and stretching a little. "You're in my bed."

He still had his trousers on from the previous night. You were still fully clothed. You sighed a little with relief. "I'm… I'm in your bed?"

"Oh, yeah," he chuckled. "To be honest, I'm not really sure how we got here, I can't remember anything after kissing you but… y'know, I'm not one to kick a guy so handsome out."

You laughed softly, flopping down onto your back and covering your face with your hands as you grinned; but that's when you noticed it. The gold band on your ring finger. "Johnny?"

"Uh-huh?"

"I think something did happen last night," you murmured. "I'm wearing a ring…"

Johnny looked at his own ring finger, and barked out a laugh when he saw. "So am I."

"Well, fuck."

"Hey, this might not be all that bad," he told you, pulling your hands away from your face and straddling your waist. "At least it gives me a chance to know my biggest fan."

Your hands went to his waist by instinct as you bit down on the inside of your bottom lip. "You… you mean that?"

"Oh, yeah," he nodded, leaning over and letting his arms rest on the mattress either side of your head. "What?"

"Nothing, I… just…" you shrugged. "I dunno…"

"C'mere," Johnny whispered, gently and softly kissing you. He smiled when you buried your hands in his soft brown hair, getting his legs between yours as he nipped at your bottom lip softly. "What'd you say, huh? Me and you, husbands, and if it doesn't work out, I'll make sure you're taken care of - money, a house, whatever you want, baby."

You nodded. "Like dating?"

"With extra steps."

"Alright," you agreed with a soft laugh. "I… it's not what Kuai Liang would've wanted for me, but… fuck it. Uncle Liang can fuck himself."

"Perfect," Johnny grinned, trailing his hand down to your waist. "Do you want any breakfast, baby?"

"Yeah, I could eat," you nodded. "Thank you."

"I'm your husband," he teased softly. "It's my job to look after you."

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thatonepersonimobsessedwith · 8 months

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Beifong family headcanons bc why not:

- Su taught Baatar how to dance. He realized how much she liked to dance and all he could do was a waltz, so one day he asked her what her fav dances were and to teach him so they could dance together. It took a while, but eventually he got there, Su loved every second of it

- Huan, despite being artistically inclined, cannot draw. He tried really hard but it always looks like it was drawn by a middle schooler. He’s also really into music.

- Opal always wished she had a sister and after Kurvira arrived she thought she finally got one, only to realize that she was the exact opposite of Opal and would rather hang out with her brothers. So, whenever she wanted to have a tea party she roped Wei and Wing into it, claiming that since she was their big sister they had to do what she said. (little did she know that they actually enjoyed it)

- Most people can’t differentiate between the twins and they’ve used it to their advantage several times. Suyin only knows about four times that they’ve done this.

- Also I feel like Su is the type of person to sing in the shower and also having a relatively good voice, like she’s not bad but karaoke is the only time she’d get away with it.

- Whereas Lin has an amazing singing voice, but rarely uses it.

#lok #legend of korra #beifong family #suyin beifong #opal beifong #huan beifong #wei beifong #wing beifong #lin beifong #baatar sr.

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sunny-days-and-warm-mournings · 9 months

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This guy

Is literally the big brother of this little asshole

Look at how sad this scene was tho, along with the times the old monkey and the others ostracized him. I don't know why he of all Yaoguais would think that he'd beat the Demon King Of Confusion with coconuts, but I guess this means he wasn't quite meant for the cudgel anyway.

In Xi You Ji, SWK got the golden as-you-will cudgel after he returned to Huagoushan from Patriarch Subhodi's place, so he was already trained and knew very well how to deal with weapons and fighting (not to mention his magic and other such things, like SWK knowing Taoism/Daoism as well as the Way), and then sharing that knowledge with his people. That's why the Puti Arc was a very important bit that the movie did not put in.

Also what do you mean that Monkey King can just pull out his clones when that technique was taught by Subhodi/Puti too? Body-beyond-body is what it's called if I remember correctly, and yeah SWK was a monkey who can do almost everything but that doesn't mean he could just do that! It's annoying!

It also took him 2 decades (adding in the time that he journeyed through the two continents to find an immortal) to learn such lessons, so the movie was kind of a mockery to that fact. Wùkōng learned so many things from Subhodi's monastery that made all his achievements possible! Plot holes and other things, they could've at least mentioned or made a small montage for the arc.

But Monkey King is just the more chaotic, impulsive, and egotistical version of Dàshèng, though Dàshèng had always been more empathetic between the two. I'm also putting in that he also has a soft spot for kids. Monkey King was quite the narcissist in the beginning. Very self-centered. Also it's kind of sad that 2023 is just called "Monkey King" bc he never went to Patriarch Subhodi (again, still salty about that; they could've made Subhodi a father figure to Monkey King since the Huagoushan monkeys didn't care for him that much, especially the old monkey) in this movie; thus never getting his Buddhist name.

My headcannon is that I'll be naming him with the combinations of "左 Zuǒ" [left; the Left (politics); east; unorthodox; queer; wrong; differing; opposite; variant of 佐; (Chinese surname meaning; to assist; assistant; aide; to accompany)] which is ironic since it was Lin who wanted to be his assistant, forced or otherwise, and not the other way around. The second part of his name are either "空 Kōng" which means (empty; air; sky; in vain) or "空隙 Kòngxì" which means (crack; gap between two objects). So the options are either Zuǒkōng or Zuǒkòngxì— "Left to void/nothingness"/ "Assisted to nothingness", but if anyone has a better idea or better knowledge about the systems of Chinese names then feel free to correct me.

The reason why it's not "Wùkōng" is because, again, the "Wù" part of the name which means; "Wake to" or "Awaken from/to". I know that Monkey King was still born from stone, or a geode in the movie,

(Guanyin, in the book, was about to name him like she did with Sha Wujing and Zhu Wuneng, but SWK stopped her before she could, though the "Wu" would be quite dissolved with Monkey King 2023/Zuǒkōng/Zuǒkòngxi around before Tanzang came to Five Phases Mountain. Assuming the previous listed names I gave him holds, though the Bodhisattva Guanyin would still be able to change it.)

(I am liking the name Zuǒkōng though, so I'm sticking with that.)

Monkey King is of course not completely irredeemable, bc soft spots and the fear of loneliness and all, as well as his eventual 'fondness' towards Lin— but I still think the movie could've done much better than making this Monkey King another version of Lego SWK (sorry for the LMK SWK fans out there, just not a great fan of the iteration).

Aside from the plot holes and the characterization of multiple important Daoist figures in the movie, like Yù Huáng and Ao Guang or even King Qin'guang/Yama, I feel like they could've made it more interesting and the fight scenes have more pizzaz. How they managed to make a Kaiju fight so underwhelming impresses me tbh, and the way Monkey King received his win is as underwhelming.

HONESTLY I have so much more to say but I keep forgetting my words so I'll add to this when I gather my thoughts jsnnsksmks

(No hate to the movie or the people that made them tho, I'm just salty.)

#jttw #journey to the west #monkey king hero is back #monkey king 2023 #sun wukong #the monkey king #monkey king #xiyouji #jttw iterations

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running-with-the-feels · 5 months

Note

I will be doing that Kenshi character analysis when I have more free time (life's been hectic lately), but until then, please take my headcanons:

Kenshi chews hard candies. This is apparently a genetic trait since Takeda does the same thing.

Frost's real name is Morya (pronounced mori-ya) and she's Russian and Kazakh.

Her hair was also originally black but turned white with age. Which is a common thing for cryomancers, the fact that Kuai Liang has any black hair at his big age is nothing short of a miracle.

Sonya is a kleptomaniac and was a chronic shoplifter in her early teen years (a habit that took months to break). Nothing big just some snack food but she still finds herself pocketing things she's not supposed to.

Liu Kang's favorite song is One Week by Barenaked Ladies. If he's being honest, it kinda reminds him of his relationship with Kung Lao. (I have so many Liu Kang headcanons it's unreal but I'm going to limit myself to one for this ask)

This one's long:

Bi Han, before being kidnapped by the Lin Kuei, wanted to be an opera singer. He wasn't good at singing to start out, but one of his mom's friends worked at an opera house and was happy to give him free lessons. After being initiated into the Lin Kuei he was banned from indulging in hobbies as they were seen as meaningless. But he continued to practice if he had time on solo missions. He saw it as his own act of freedom/rebellion.

Then Hanzo tore his head off. As Noob he didn't even get to try, since the whole mind control business. Sometimes he'd find himself unconsciously falling back into old habits leading to people being unnerved when Noob fucking Saibot started hitting notes high enough to crack glass at them like some kind of horror movie.

Even after getting his humanity restored, his vocal cords were permanently damaged and pushing his voice too hard results in coughing fits, soreness, and losing his voice for days at a time. And when he does sing, it's strained and sometimes hurts. But if Bi Han's anything it's stubborn so he continues to "build up his tolerance" as he calls it.

EEEEEEEEEE can't wait to see it and I love these

The first time Sonya sees Kenshi chew a hard candy she walks straight into a wall in horror. Cassie does the same when she catches Takeda doing it.

The only people allowed to call Frost Morya are Kuai Liang and Cassie. Kuai Liang only ever does it when she's ill or injured and though she'll never admit it she finds it very comforting, and Cassie calls her that whenever she wants to kiss her really bad (bc Frost always kisses her when she does)

Kuai Liang still has black hair that oddly shows no sign of greying, but his eyes tend to flicker between their normal brown and a terrifyingly bright blue whenever he has a strong emotion, a trait also common in cryomancers.

Johnny is actually Sonya's biggest supporter in breaking her habit of nicking things and is the only person she's ever met that hasn't judged her for it, which she appreciates

Kung Lao's fav song is all star by smash mouth and he's the one who introduced Liu Kang to most of the music that Liu Kang knows (pls tell me your Liu Kang hc if you get the chance, I Beg)

Bi-Han used to sing lullabies to Kuai Liang and Tomáš in the Lin Kuei and Enenra can still be founding humming the tunes along to himself after a hard battle.

Noob got a bit of a reputation as a siren in the Netherrealm bc if you heard him singing it meant you were already dead.

After they resurrected Bi-Han and he began living at the Lin Kuei temple with Kuai Liang, Hanzo eventually came to apologize for killing him, it didn't go well but Hanzo is trying to atone and Bi-Han is struggling to stay angry about it (especially when Kuai Liang wants them to get along so bad)

Hanzo found out about the damage to his vocal chords and sought out an edenian tea said to be able to aid in the healing of such wounds, gifting it to the shadow wielder as part of his apology.

Bi-Han will never admit it but it actually works and being able to sing without pain again, even if only for as long as the tea is in effect, is the first thing to make him really feel human again

#love these hcs dude #bi han #takeda takahashi #kenshi takahashi #liu kang #kung lao #liulao #kuai liang #hanzo hasashi #sonya blade #johnny cage #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x #mortal kombat 11

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daisymylove · 8 months

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Sword catcher spoilers, speculations and theories about "Ragpicker King" and some ramblings ahead, proceed at your own discretion.

So I'm 90% sure Vienne is alive and we will find it out when lin comes to the palace to treat her

She has an official art and there was a whole snippet about her, I don't see the point of making all that fuss about a character that was going to have three interactions with Kel (speaking of which, I kind of shipped them even tho I know ana will be his end game 👉🏻👈🏻 am I the only one?), kill some random guys and bite the dust. On top of that her arc was about to get so interesting. She is a trained assassin, oath bound to protect this little girl, whom she loves deeply, until she dies, but then her charge was murdered, and her life's mission came crashing down on her. The angst, the potential.Her dying would be a huge waste.

I don't question Jolivet's loyalty, at least not now, but Markus is not a mentally stable person (btw whats up with him? does anyone have a theory?).I think he lied she was dead bc markus may have killed her otherwise and, as dangerous as she is, Vienne may be more useful to them alive than dead with the possibility of a war looming over.I also don't discard the possibility that he may have personal ties to vienne and/or her family. The whole covering her with his cape could have been a show of respect for the black guard if she's really dead, like kel thought, but compounding with the fact that, even tho she charged on conor, jolivet did nothing to either stop or harm her, it struck me as oddly affectionate. Anyone can correct me if im wrong, but I dont remember kel mentioning anything about an accent, which makes me assume she speaks their language on a native level, so there's that

One thing I didn't like was that this trained bad ass assassin was completely unarmed during such an important event.Kel is always armed, even when impersonating conor he had a dagger on his person. Granted, it's easier to conceal weapons on male attire, but it would've been more realistic if she'd had at least one dagger, had been forced to use it and thus was left unarmed. Its not enough to tackle all those guys, as kel himself thought, but she wouldn't have been helpless.

I'm also 90% sure Lin and conor are going to have sex on a beach, I'm willing to bet money on it.I've read way too many books by Cc to not recognize her foreshadowing. Besides, she's fond of writing sex scenes on peculiar locations.

The "yes I'm the goddess come back" may have been scheming on Lin's part (loved that btw) but I'm sure she actually is the goddess come back. She will also be queen, as the prophecy foretells. Charlon saying to luisa "dance for your future court", but Lin ending up being the one to actually dance also reeks of foreshadow.

Now to the ragpicker king, we know almost nothing about andreyen and I have a lot of speculations. First I thought he was the Makabi, what about the ragpicker being a figure that has always existed in Castellane, his symbol being a bird and his having a bowl that allegedly belongs to makabi's lineage. But when he said ragpicker king is a title, which he inherited from another, I put it in the back burner (it hasn't been discarded tho, im not discarding anything for now and he would hardly tell kel "yo I'm this immortal entity and have been forging my death over and over for centuries" if that were the case) in favour of thinking he's the Maharam's exiled son. He's the right age and it makes sense for a boy that has been shunned by everyone and left to fend for himself to turn to crime.

What has been nagging at me, on the other hand, is that he matches Lin's vision of Suleman from her dreams. Pale, tall, handsome, long black hair and when his eyes were going to be described the dream was conveniently interrupted. I'm not saying he is suleman for sure, idk how that would work in practical terms -- is he an immortal and suleman never actually died at the sundering? unlikely, considering Lins dream and how vivid it was. Is he a reincarnation? Under that line of thinking he could be both the exiled boy AND suleman on a single person -- and he could have no relation to him whatsoever, the physical resemblance being just a coincidence (but really?) and I'm just crazy.His interest in the stone and magic in general checks out for both suleman and exiled son, so it isn't really an indicator.

I rather liked andreyen, merren and Ji an, tho, I really don't want him to be the bad guy, but as previously said I'm not discarding anything.It seems pretty obvious to me that he wants to use lin and her abilities in some way, much like he has a use for kel, but that doesn't necessarily mean he has nefarious goals or anything

I think Anjelica, Aimada, the malgasi princess whose name I don't remember now and the prince with the huge bank account will make appearances, they have been mentioned way too much to not feature at all

and what was that dream kel had with fire and phoenixes? There's something there, I can feel it

anyway, that's what I have so far

as a side note, I'm a bit drunk and haven't proofread this properly (i never do when writing on this blog tho, sorry lol), hope its coherent enough

#sword catcher spoilers #sword catcher #kel saren #lin carter #the ragpicker king #conor aurelian #kang ji an #merren asper #vienne d'este

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yxnswife · 6 months

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#I'm already writing the ghost hunting fic

Ok thank god bc I was about to ask you more about this AU 😂

The ghost fic is actually a different fic (it's more like Ghost Adventures, Ghost Files, etc.)!! But I'm feeling silly so I'll talk more about this au anyway 🫶

• Johnny was born into a family of vampire hunters. Not every family/group of hunters has a focus on one specific monster, but Johnny’s does. It's a personal vendetta.

• Bouncing off of the last one I think that Nitara would be a huge blow to everything that Johnny knew growing up about vampires. She's not nice per se, but she isn't the mindless and violent being that he had been taught to kill.

• Kenshi wasn't born into hunting like Johnny, but he was always aware of it. A group of rogue hunters protected his family hundreds of years ago and their descendants continue to do so, but in exchange ask for money, weapons, housing, etc.

• The Lin Kuei boys in this one are also hunters, and I like to think that Tomas was picked up after a monster killed his family. He was taken in after it was killed. The Lin Kuei are still the Lin Kuei, but they also hunt monsters

• Johnny and Kenshi met, surprisingly, not on a hunt. By chance, they ended up in the same antique store in the middle of nowhere. They bonded over some old items, and Johnny happened to mention Sento, an ancient sword said to be able to slay any monster. Immediately Kenshi is interested because that's his family sword and "What the hell does this guy know about it?"

• Continuing from the last one, they teamed up to fight some werewolf that had made its presence known. Either Johnny or Kenshi get injured (unused to hunting with a partner) and suddenly Johnny suggests that they start working together more often. Kenshi says no, but then Johnny says that he'd help him track down Sento. Kenshi agrees.

• Johnny still goes by Cage in this AU, but it's less of a stage name and more for protection than anything. His mother was a badass vampire hunter and people knew her name, so it was all around easier to come up with a new one.

• Kenshi is the most efficient at killing monsters, but will use the same weapon until it breaks if Johnny lets him. For this reason, Johnny has a whole arsenal to split between them.

• Johnny is in charge of handling witnesses and gathering info/researching when he isn't fighting. Kenshi is in charge of finding places to sleep and contacting other hunters.

• Mileena in this AU is a monster, but she was cursed to be one rather than born. She travels with Tanya, Baraka, and Syzoth. Ashrah comes and goes, but she hunts demons and has her own personal mission.

• Sindel has a coven that she's the Supreme Witch of, and Kitana stays with her to learn magic.

• After a hunt, there's always a debrief. It's like an unspoken rule between all hunters. No matter who you're with, or what your relationship is, you take care of your own. Johnny is the one to push for this the most when they're all together, and is typically the first one up and gathering medical supplies.

• Kung Lao and Raiden are married, and have been training to be hunters since they were young. They focus on spirit extermination and demons, but Kung Lao has an affinity for shapeshifters. He likes the challenge. Raiden still has his amulet, and it was given to him by Liu Kang.

• Liu Kang is the same in this universe. He's just also kind of the network control center and hunters come to him for advice or guidance. He only hunts if the threat is big enough, but he's more than happy to help.

#this au makes me insane okay #SO MANY IDEAS #mortal kombat #johnshi #mk1 #monster hunter au #johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #married railao but no one finds out until later #railao #lin kuei trio #taleena hunter gf x monster gf for the win #asks 🫶

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whoretalkombat · 7 months

Text

BI-HAN FIC IDEA THAT'S BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR DAYS

This is literally just brain thoughts with a somewhat cohesive plot of the man I have been thirsting for for days

Absolutely not proofread

—.———.———.———.———.———.———.———.—

Ummm so reader is in an arranged marriage with our scrumptious, frosty man, Bi-Han (love this trope for his character)

This is like pre-MK1

Reader is in love, but Bi-han is not :(

What does he take her for? Granted

So basically, he gets back from a mission, and he's not in the mood to deal with anyone >:(

Reader tries to aid in helping with his bandages and whatnot bc Bi-Han is injured (bc reader always has 🤪)

But our calloused man gets unnecessarily angry with reader (like super mean, hurt with no comfort type mean)

This makes reader leave him, but they don't know that they're preggers 😳 (like with twins 😳)

It's funny bc I don't want to have kids irl, but it's one of my favorite tropes for male characters

—.———.———.———.———.———.———.———.—

Yea, so fast forward to like 3 or 4 years

Reader takes twins out to the market in the village they live in

The twins run ahead and bump into dun dun duuuuuunnn Tomas

Reader catches up to them and they're like ??? to Tomas

Reader introduces the twins to Tomas and Tomas is like 😳🥰

Twins go off to play with the other kids, and reader and Tomas are like 🧍, reader explains what happened, and Tomas being the breedable and good boy that he is, is understanding

Then like a few weeks later, the same thing happened with Kuai Liang 👁️👅👁️, 😳🥰, 🧍

I want that man to breed ME

—.———.———.———.———.———.———.———.—

Reader and twins live kinda in the outskirts of the village and twins are playing outside of the house

Bi-Han is making his rounds in the village, and when he is leaving, he notices the twins

Did I mention that the twins are cryomancers too?

Girl twin is practicing her aim and she has snowball in her hand while boy twin is standing with two sticks raised up making a goal

Bi-Han thinks nothing of it since they're in a village in the mountains (but it's spring time???) he's confused now

But twins go inside since reader called them for dinner (Bi-Han is more confused cuz it sounded like reader's voice, but he shakes it off like the dumbass he is)

—.———.———.———.———.———.———.———.—

Don't know when this happens, but maybe like a month later??

Bi-Han's thoughts abt the twins are still brewing and he decides to go back to the mountain village at night (like a thief in the night)

Reader is hanging up laundry in front of the house, obscuring Bi-Han's view of them

Until BAM reader comes into sight and Bi-Han is hit with a ton of ice breaks

Bi-Han is left with many thoughts (hurt for him >:) this time)

Reader goes back inside, and Bi-Han goes back to the Lin Kuei

—.———.———.———.———.———.———.———.—

Later (like another month), Bi-Han returns for his weekly visits (kinda stalkerish???) to see reader who has twins

(Ooh maybe do a part where Bi-Han goes out at night and finds Kuai Liang and Tomas leaving reader's house.... drammmmmaaa)

Anyways, reader was asleep from exhaustion, and the twins are still up and awake just lolly gagging around the house

Girl twin notices Bi-Han outside approaching the house, and she and boy twin are on the move to protecc and possibly attacc and hide like mini assassins

Bi-Han enters the house and he's abt to enter reader's room, and boy twin gets protective (he's the more impulsive/emotional one) and throws a snowball at the back of Bi-Han's head

Bi-Han vs. Little Twins???

Twins yell and stuff waking reader up, and reader comes out of the room and finds Bi-Han, the grandmaster, Lin Kuei assassin getting attacked by two little ice demons

Reader stops the twins and is shocked by Bi-Han's appearance

Bi-Han and reader go outside to talk (angst, hurt, with maybe a sprinkle of comfort for reader, but not for Bi-Han. We will make this man suffer)

—.———.———.———.———.———.———.———.—

So yea, not really sure where else to go with that, but I needed to get my thoughts out TROLOLOL

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader #bi han #mk1 #bi han sub zero #mk1 2023

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tazahan · 5 days

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Since you mention the kids existing in both timelines, will the parenting style be different? I feel like both Bi-Hans will have a drastic style also you think main Bi-han worried about his sons "replacing" him like he did with his father? also I would love to see more about the daughter especially since she's the "Anais" Love your art btw!

sorry for the long question.

No No No, please do not apologize for a long question! I enjoy reading and answering them! Also, I'm the one who should say sorry for my long-ass answer here, bc I'm too excited. Well, they do have slightly different parenting styles though they share the same children.

Vanilla Bi-Han is quite hard, calculated, and strict, and he hopes that his sons will be the men in the Lin Kuei he hopes to be. Obedient children that will make him proud in the future. And took Lin Kuei's values seriously for the next generation. He is a man full of ambition and he demands that his sons share the same vision but unfortunately, his sons are dorks. All thanks to Aila who could balance his ego and taught her baby boys pretty well and normal. He is also not really 'touchy' for showing enough affection as his sons grow up. But instead, his sons would be the people who kept teasing him to not be so serious all the time. But they always ended up being punished. He is still so awkward to show his true feelings towards his family. He never said 'I love you' or 'I'm proud of you, son'. He shows his love through actions. Bi-Han worried about his glory as he grew older and like it or not, His sons would replace his place. In my head, he doesn't have the kind of ego. But he hoped that his son would fulfill his expectations on how they would lead the Lin Kuei in the future.

Good Bi-Han is still the same as strict, stoic, and disciplined but he is way more chill and doesn't sound so pushy. He trained his sons to be the best version of themselves. And hope they can continue Lin Kuei's legacy wisely without abandoning their own dreams. He is also (mostly bc of Aila's effect) less afraid to show affection toward them. Maybe like patting their heads, giving them small praises, and sometimes he can also be a little bit overprotective. In my head, he is a notorious leader, a doting husband, and a wise father. He did not force his sons to lead Lin Kuei the same way as he led in the past. Instead, he encourages his sons to be greater than him and to enrich their knowledge for the sake of Lin Kuei's future. Use their own freedom for a positive comeback. The youngest daughter is still OTW. I'll show her when it's ready (though probably only a rough concept)

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sailorluna15 · 1 month

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Legend of Korra Lin Beifong hc!

Lin and Poppy (Toph's mother) would be really close! When Lin was younger, she would always want to visit her grandma and loved calling her. I hc that she called her ninie (nin-nee) instead of granny bc she couldn't pronounce granny right when she was younger and the name just stuck. Plus, poppy would not want to be called granny. I think the bond between poppy and Lin would make toph a bit uncomfortable and maybe even a little jealous bc poppy kinda just lets lin be herself, but she would be happy that Lin is happy and that her mom learned from her mistakes. Also, I think Lin was more on the girlier side than Toph so it helps her bond with poppy.

#atla #atla headcanons #legend of korra #lin beifong #poppy beifong #toph beifong #legend of korra headcanons #lin beifong headcanons #toph headcanons

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risingsoleil · 3 months

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Hello Soleil! Hope all’s good with you.

Wanted to ask about your thoughts on Linzin’s love language. How they prefer to give and receive, things like that 🥰

Hello Yellow!! I'm doing good after a really busy week haha I hope you're doing great and getting a lot of rest over the weekend 🫶

Thank you so much for the ask! Let's break it down!

Lin's love languages: physical touch, quality time, and acts of service

Growing up with Toph, I think everyone can definitely agree that Lin enjoys receiving and giving physical touch to show affection, support, comfort, and love. Simply focusing on her relationship with Tenzin and how this plays out, touch also helps her feel grounded. Bad day at work where she lost a colleague or she faced a lot of criticism from the press? First thing Tenzin does is give her a hug, and just being in that embrace grounds her back to reality and also soak in the love and protection of her partner.

Also, when she cuddles Tenzin, sometimes it's super aggressive bc CAN'T. GET. CLOSE. ENOUGH. TO. HER. BOYFRIEND (or husband 😍) She's wearing a tanktop and some shorts, while Tenzin is shirtless. Lin has her legs around him too so he can't escape. But he's a fucking heater, so after a while she needs some space to cool off lol

Second love language would be quality time. Toph was really busy with work, leaving Lin and Su to fend for themselves more often than they should have. I feel that since she didn't have that with her mom, it becomes something she values in her relationships with others. This only solidifies as Lin and Tenzin grow up and become involved in their careers. Their jobs take so much of their time, and they need those days of simply being together or going on quiet dates. Luckily, they have similar outlooks on how they want to spend their time together. Plus, the world and especially RC is so nosy on their relationship and business, that they just want to be together in peace. I like to imagine that they have conversations sometimes about what kind of life they would like to live if they weren't who they were. Tenzin would say living quietly in the countryside as a farmer...Lin would joke he can be a cabbage farmer. Lin would say that there's no use in thinking about a different life bc what else can they do to change it? Nothing. But her answer might be a pro-bending coach.

Lastly, she values acts of service. I think Toph instilled in her the idea that words don't mean anything. Actions speak volumes. Lin is a protector and will take the bullet for anyone she cares about. I feel like the line between protector and taking care of others' needs can get blurry with her. When Tenzin is stepping up for her and taking care of her, she's gonna protest, but inside, she appreciates it so much. She has the difficulty of learning how to allow others to take care of her, but Tenzin knows.

Overall, her love languages to receive/give are mostly the same.

Now, we move on to...

Tenzin's love languages: words of affirmations, quality time, and physical touch

Tenzin has a different dynamic going on because he has this title: airbender. For him, he has this luxury of being "spoiled" or "adored" by the world, but the other side of the sword is that he must deal with the crippling responsibility of "reviving the Air Nation and continuing Aang's legacy." I can imagine he would hear compliments, receive facors and gifts due to his connection to Aang and also being the first airbender born in...a long time. All of those things always felt superficial to him, so it doesn't hold as much meaning for him. Also with receiving gifts, his culture teaches to detach from earthly materials anyway.

Words of affirmation: He might appreciate this to some extent. Tenzin needs a lot of verbal validation, especially since he is insecure about how he's continuing his dad's legacy (if we follow canon). Lin may not be lovey-dovey with her words, but she knows how to support and comfort him by telling him what he needs to hear.

Lin: Tenz...of course you are good enough. You are more than enough. So what if you can't get into the spirit world? Do I love you less? Tenzin: No. Lin: Exactly. I love you regardless.

On the other hand, Tenzin is amazing at giving words of affirmation. Reading all of those ancient scrolls makes him a pretty smart cookie and helps him talk smoothly. Except when he tried to ask out Lin on a date for the first time...that was...mind went blank and somehow she ended up dating him. In general, he enjoys showering Lin with loving words all the time. People can be cruel, the press is merciless at times and that weighs on Lin, and she might not have the best record of speaking highly on herself very likely. If no one else is going to tell her she's beautiful, loved, powerful, fierce, and enough...who else will? Tenzin will gladly work overtime to make sure Lin hears his millionth poem about how much he loves her and adores her.

His second love language is quality time, and I think it's for the similar reasons as Lin. Although, I think he spent a lot of time with people growing up, but felt very alone. He wasn't seen for himself, but rather his bending. Lin knows and loves him for who Tenzin is. Spending time with Lin also helps him get a reality check because he tends to be more coddled by people than her.

Lin: You can't just force people to become air nomads, Airhead. Tenzin: But they're airbenders now! They need to be part of our nation, who wouldn't want to? Lin: Tenzin...do you hear yourself? The acolytes started out as groupies. They became acolytes on their own volition. These are people who have their own identities. You can't just force them to give up everything they know for YOU.

Lastly, physical touch. I think he grew to enjoy giving/receiving physical affection especially when he started developing feelings for Lin. The added layer to this love language is that it reminds him that Lin is alive and with him. She's breathing, unharmed, and safe in his arms. Her job is so dangerous and she's constantly putting herself on the line. He's had nightmares of losing her and just being able to hold her while they sleep? Never letting go.

Finally, let's be real. Tenzin is horny and wild af in bed. I don't think he can keep it in his pants when he's around her. But who can blame him? Look at Lin Beifong. Celibacy? That word has not been in his vocabulary since he was 17 and started dating Lin.

That's all of it, thank you so much again for the ask, queen! I hope you enjoyed reading!

#linzin #asks

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