#pls request

𝜗ৎ Until you decide to pipe up.

"What's the artist's name?"

𝜗ৎ When Ronin becomes certain in something, there's no shot he's changing his mind.

𝜗ৎ He spends the rest of the night stalking you, shamelessly. It wasn't hard to get info on you. Well, it wasn't hard for him. A famous K-pop idol; [Name] [Last.n].

𝜗ৎ Ronin wasn't a fan of anyone but himself, but he could admit he.. admired.. your music. Peppy, but a bearable amount. What he liked the most was your voice. Smooth. Like butter. (ha)

𝜗ৎ From then on, he dropped hints of knowing your secret like missiles in the server, borderline teasing you for his own leisure.

Ronin crossed his arms over his chest, subconsciously nodding his head to the music. He was at your concert, listening to the memorable flutter of your voice. You end the song with an exasperated sigh.

He appreciated the sheer amount of passion you put into your music. A snippet of your soul was nestled into your compositions and it did something to him.

He hangs around even when the show is over, lounging outside the venue awaiting your graceful presence. When you do arrive, it wrenches a mortified scream out of your lungs.. alerting your crew.

You calm down before your bodyguards attempt to apprehend Ronin. In watching the way the Butchers' fingers twitch near his waistband, you decided you didn't have the energy to explain any fatalities that day. And so, you disperse the dispute, telling everyone that you knew Ronin as a close.. comrade.

𝜗ৎ  When you both start dating, he insists on being your muse for your work. On putting subliminal messaging in your songs. On making a freaky track and acting dumb whenever anyone called out it's abnormality.

𝜗ৎ He writhes in your influence, the amount of people you could subtly corrupt.

𝜗ৎ He relishes in you more.

Angel .

𝜗ৎ Angel had been a devout fan since day one.

𝜗ৎ Everything was up her alley, from the music, to the lyrics, to your overal vibe. She loved it all.

𝜗ৎ She attended your concerts in her free time. She caught your eye from the crowd a plethora of times; given the fact you were a fan of her too!

𝜗ৎ Much like Ronin, she didn't think much about a new addition to the server, just greeted them wholeheartedly as she did everyone.

𝜗ৎ Also much like Ronin, she found out your identity through your voice.

Angel basked in the sound of your music traversing through every inch of her being. The melody almost coercing her to tears, before the song draws to an end. The pause only neared her closer to waterworks before she makes that eye contact with you again -- the eyecontact that makes her knees feel week, and her smile shudder.

You're breathless, eye-cuddling her with those wide weapens you call eyes. Angels life nearly cuts short when you gaze in her direction and beckon for her to come up on stage. It was rare. You rarely did it. The crowd roared with raw unfiltered emotion, but Angels' attention only remains locked on you.

You bring the microphone up to your lips, pointing out into the field of sweaty humans.

"You! Cute pinkie-pie with the space bun pigtails!"

The very specific shoutout makes her warm, nonetheless working on auto pilot to track her way up to the stage. Angel's sure she's shoved well-over ten people to make her way up here, and feels no shame about it.

When she finally does make it upstage, the mic had already been lowered to the ground, like a personal segment that the whole world could see, but not hear. It was oddly intimate, the way you immediantly bounced to engulf her into a hug. To whisper your appreciation for always being there at your concerts. To cradle her flushed cheeks aginst your adrenaline-filled fingertips.

𝜗ৎ Angel nailed the memory in her head to never forget.

𝜗ৎ She willingly hurls herself into a rabbit hole of your fan interactions -- had any of them been that passionate?

𝜗ৎ They had not, and Angel relished in that discovery.

𝜗ৎ Finding out you were an idol ,, no,, her idol was both a thrilling and embarrasing revelation. Similar to Misaki, albeit more tamer, Angel found ways to slip her obbsession with you into the server.

Misaki .

𝜗ৎ Misaki is a sweetheart, but incredibly airheaded.

𝜗ৎ They follow all your social media updates, rant about you in the server, their trailer has a shrine corner dedicated to you.

𝜗ৎ Despite the abundance of calls the pair of you had shared, she only chalked your familarity down to being a mere coincidence. Its a big world! so what if you have the same name as their favourite k-pop idol? so what if you have the same face as their favourite k-pop idol? so what if you had the same voice as their favourite k-pop idol?

Misaki beckons over the bartender, lazily flailing their hand over the countertop before halting in sensing someone's presence. She quips her head around, blinking at this newcomer pointing at the stool beside her. It takes Misaki a moment to process your words, adapting to conversating in the loud setting.

"Seat taken?" You repeat, a dopey grin on your face.

'Huh. They look familar.' Is all Misaki can muster before giving a stiff shake of the head.

A moment or two passes before the stranger beside Misaki let's out a snort. "Misaki, your facial recognition sucks."

They whip their head around to give you a thorough look over.

And finally, the puzzle pieces connect. You notice when they realise because their grin morphs into something unfathomably wide before lunging at you in a brutalic manner.

𝜗ৎ Misaki refuses to quit flaunting you in the server like a trophey of achievement when you both begin dating.

V .

𝜗ৎ V doesn't inherently care for any variation of music.

𝜗ৎ Is what he tells everyone who asks. And it's not entirely untrue? He doesn't take an interest in any modern forms of musical artistry. Kinda.

𝜗ৎ ...But he does enjoy this one artist. Only one.

𝜗ৎ He finds it awkward to admit to. A monotone man like himself. Enjoying.. K-pop.

𝜗ৎ But only this one artist. He doesn't wish to know their full name or face, or anything of the sort. He's okay with immersing himself in the trill of this authors' voice.

You and V sat in call like many times before, chatting away about anything and everything.

The topic of secrets came up, and you requested to hear one from V after spilling your guts about some embarrasing childhood memory you hadn't let go of.

"Just one," You plead. "I won't tell a soul, cross my heart." You place a hand over your chest.

"That's your lung."

"Whatever. Tell me one!"

"... I enjoy a specific Korean-pop artist."

A pang plays through. You're staring at the screen as if someone had broken into V's residence.

"..[Last.n], i believe their surname was."

"Wanna hear something funny, V?"

𝜗ৎ He doesn't believe you. He doesn't want to believe you.

𝜗ৎ Because for once, V had enough awareness to be embarrassed.

𝜗ৎ Blood rushes to his ears first, btw.

you were currently sat on Elizabeth’s bedroom floor hugging a pillow tight to your chest as you wait nervously to see yourself. she had point blank refused to give you a mirror or even let you open your eyes, claiming that “it’s bad luck”. this made you nervous.

“hey lizzy..” you say nervously, bracing yourself for the answer.

“don’t move too much!! you’re gonna ruin my art!!” she exclaims, making you laugh softly.

“where did you get this makeup from?” you ask, curious about the answer. you weren’t even entirely sure what she was putting on your face, but you decided that would be a future you problem.

“mummy’s small pink bag!! there was sooo much in there!!” she says excitedly and you grimace. “oh don’t pull that face, it makes my art look ugly.”

you try not to laugh at her statement, opting to focus on the other issue instead.

“you stole from your mom? that’s not very good li—“

your half-hearted attempt at scolding the younger girl was cut short as the front door slams shut. Elizabeth flinches back and your eyes shoot open. their mother and father weren’t due back for another hour, so it couldn’t have been them.. Michael maybe? “liz stay in your room for me.” you say quietly and Elizabeth nods. you rush down the stairs, your eyes widening at his beaten state.

you see his shirt first, slightly bloodied and dirty. like clockwork, your eyes flick to his bruised face, you notice his bleeding nose and his rosy red knuckles which causes a concerned frown to form on your face.

alternatively, as soon as Mike sees you he bursts out laughing. he’s so humoured that he actually clutches his sides and wipes away tears.

“practicing for the circus?” he says in between laughs and suddenly most of his sympathy you felt for the other disappears.

“okay don’t be rude, lizzy tried really hard..” you pout, crossing your arms. Mike eventually stops laughing, but his boyish grin never leaves his face.

“ah, so a beauty pageant then? she’s been reading those shitty magazines that bang on about foundation and all that nonsense”

you roll your eyes at his antics, clearly not in the mood. “enough about me.. what happened to you?”

Mike’s smile falters at the change and suddenly he’s rubbing his jaw in soothing circles. you make your way to the kitchen, grabbing a small pack of bandages, a wet cloth and a small bowl of warm water. after, you grab some frozen peas and make your way back to the hall.

“do i even want to know why?” you ask, throwing the bag of peas at him so he can ice his jaw. he takes it gratefully and sits in the middle of the hall. you sit down beside him, taking one of his hands. you pretend not to notice his flinch when you touch him, and the soft hissing sound he makes as you wipe down his knuckles.

“just some absolute dolts that were at my group’s normal spot, it would’ve been fine if they didn’t start pushing around jeremy..” he says harshly as he balls his fists. he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down and prevent himself from snapping at you. you gently rub circles into his back as he breathes as an attempt to soothe him, knowing that speaking would only make it worse. eventually the tension in his body begins to melt, yet you don’t pull away from his back.

“how’s your jaw feeling?” you whisper, looking at his face with deep concern and care.

“hurts like a bitch but the ice makes it feel a little better,” he returns your gaze, his voice now soft and tender.

you laugh softly at his language, carefully wrapping his hand in a bandage. he watches you work your magic, a smile slowly creeping its way onto his face.

“what..?” you ask slowly, eyes flicking back up to his face.

“never thought i’d have a clown dress my wounds for me,” you can almost hear the smirk in his tone, causing you to yet again roll your eyes at his antics.

“i think vogue would take me on if i went looking like this, front cover and everything,” you smile as you speak and Mike begins to laugh again.

“oh totally.. what pose would you do? or would you just juggle?” he retorts, causing a few giggles to escape your lips.

you finish bandaging him up and fall into a fit of giggles as Michael begins to imitate different poses typically seen on fashion magazines. behind the two of you, little footsteps can be heard. Elizabeth slowly makes her way down and your laughter dies down slightly.

he'd already sacrificed one survivor and the others were almost ready to join the first, but now he's enjoying his little prize, you! you'd caught his attention long ago, when you first entered the trials not long after he did...

youre the only one who seems to be able to actually fight him, or wants to anyways, most give up in shock after a while, or surrender to the entity after seeing him again. but you? you cant seem to do anything but want him dead, and he doesnt know why, nor does he care, he likes the challenge...

the real reason you even came here is because you knew he did too. you were a true crime junkie before you came here and he was your specific point of interest. you were fascinated by him, who wouldn't be?

you knew everything you could about him, knew what was fact and what was fiction when it came to him. you can't help but love his work, truly a master of his craft. was it a little sick? yes. but you stopped caring about that long ago, almost desensitized to it, in a way...

he watches as you tinker with the generator hed previously kicked, stalking you. he knew you'd realize he was watching soon, but he was careful, glancing away every so often to avoid you detecting him and blowing his cover too early. too early for what? he had nothing specific in mind but he just wanted to watch you longer...

in his daydreams, you were always running away from him, scared for your life, as you should be around him. but he knew if it were real, you'd more likely run toward him... he knew you as well as you knew him, love was a two was street after all <3

you realize someone has been watching you and you swivel your head around every direction trying to find who it was. you hadn't known which killer The Entity paired your mis-massed group of survivors with this entire time. you knew at least one was sacrificed to Her but you didnt see who it was or anything else that had happened.

you were too focused on the three generators you were working on and completed on your own... curse your intense focus...

you stand from the gen and look around finding the white and black plastic mask you know better than your own face at this point. you jump slightly, leaning on the generator as he stalks toward you. he turns his head slowly, as if hes a cat studying the mouse before pouncing for the kill. you were the only one left completely healthy, no cuts, no hook stages, the last thing standing between him and a clean victory to earn The Entity's favor even more than he already has. and you'd done three out of the five gens completely alone... you had the biggest target on your back you could ever pin on a survivor in these trials.

despite all that, you relax and sigh in relief when you see him. "hi, danny," you smile, wiggling your fingers. you lean back on the cold metal even further, shivering as the wind kicks your short skirt slightly. "i forgot how cold it is out here..."

"well, you'll just have to run to me for warmth, won't you?" you smile at his lame joke and roll your eyes. you press a kiss to the plastic mask, trying not to think of how his face under is gone.. it was beautiful to see, especially while covered in blood, but it was his wish, and when danny wished? The Entity granted it, thats why you're allowed in most of his trials anyways.

"seems so, danny," you pur, leaning just slightly away from him. the wind hits again and youre sure it's not an accident. She wants you to do your jobs again. She's so demanding...

"She won't be happy if we dont go back to-" danny steps to the side of your gen and kicks it again, destroying some of your work. but the wind dies down too, leaving you much warmer, confirming your theory. you sigh, annoyed at having to give up more time with your beloved. you steps so hes the one leaning on the gen, then wrap your arms around his neck. "go kill someone for me, yeah? take a picture too, pretty please? i want new material to study about you, helps when we have to be seperated for so long. guh, Shes so needy..."

"She is... but She loves me as much as i love you," he reminds, hands wandering your body, seemingly most interested in your skirt and taking it off. a treat you'll have to go without for now, unfortunately. though later hell be covered in blood, much more hot anyways, well worth the wait.

you step back to release him, twirling in place to flair your skirt. he laughs softly, head tilting to watch your little display before his focus shifts. it's then your hear someone behind you gasp and groan. danny reaches for you and forces you to look at him, wanting the details of the kill be a surprise for your study session later... how kind of him <3