loonao3o

[loonao3o]

I love this Isayama sketch of Levi so much 🤍

[loonao3o]

“A Dangerous Game”

The train station was nearly empty, the air thick with the hum of fluorescent lights. You sat slumped on the cold bench, staring at the cracked floor tiles beneath your feet. Another job interview had ended in failure, another door slammed shut in your face. The weight of it all bore down on you like a stone.

“You look like someone in need of a little excitement.”

The voice startled you, smooth and polished, like a salesman who’d already closed the deal before you even knew you were buying.

You looked up. A man in a crisp gray suit stood before you, his briefcase in one hand, an oddly familiar smile on his face. It wasn’t just his perfect appearance that unnerved you—it was the way his dark eyes seemed to pin you in place, as if he saw something in you even you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked, blinking at him.

The man’s smile widened as he sat beside you, placing his briefcase carefully between his polished shoes. “I said, you look like you could use some excitement. Or maybe a second chance.”

You frowned. “Who are you?”

He chuckled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out two brightly colored squares of paper—one red, one blue. “Think of me as… an opportunity,” he said, holding them up. “Do you know how to play ddakji?”

The sight of the paper tiles brought back faint childhood memories—games played on dusty playgrounds, the loud slap of paper against paper. You didn’t answer.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,” he said, his tone almost teasing. He placed the blue tile on the ground and held the red one out to you. “Let me remind you.”

You hesitated, eyeing him warily. “Why? What’s in it for you?”

“Oh, I don’t need anything from you,” he said, leaning back against the bench. “Except maybe… your willingness to play. If you win, I’ll give you 100,000 won. If I win, well…” He paused, his smile sharpening. “You can pay with your body.”

Something in your gut screamed that this was a mistake, that this man was dangerous. But there was a pull to him, an almost magnetic charm that made you want to prove yourself. And the money—100,000 won for a simple game? It felt too easy.

You grabbed the red tile.

“Good,” he said, sitting forward, his eyes gleaming. “Your turn.”

The first round ended quickly. You threw the tile with more force than precision, and it barely grazed the blue square.

“Don’t rush,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “It’s not about power—it’s about control.”

His turn came next. With a quick flick of his wrist, the red tile smacked down hard against the blue one, flipping it instantly. He looked up at you with a grin that was equal parts charming and unnerving.

“That’s one for me,” he said.

Your frustration mounted as the rounds went on. No matter how much you tried to focus, his throws were effortless, precise. You were outmatched, and he knew it.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you said bitterly after yet another loss.

“Perhaps,” he admitted, leaning back. “But not for the reasons you think.”

That caught you off guard. His gaze lingered on you, softer now, though no less intense. It made your chest tighten, as though he could see every corner of your soul.

“What do you mean?” you asked cautiously.

He smiled again, but this time, it was tinged with something almost… regretful. “You’re fascinating, you know that?”

Your face flushed. “What?”

“You have nothing,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “No money, no job, no prospects. And yet, here you are—fighting, hoping. Most people in your position would have given up by now. But you…” His gaze flicked down to the tile in your hand. “You still want to win.”

His words stung, but there was something else buried in them—a strange kind of admiration.

“Why do you care?” you asked.

He tilted his head, as if considering the question. “Maybe because I see something in you,” he said softly. “Something rare.”

The tension between you hung heavy in the air. For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw something real in his expression, something unguarded.

Then it was gone.

“Last round,” he said, straightening. “Make it count.”

You took a deep breath, focusing all your frustration and determination into the throw. The tile hit the ground with a sharp crack, flipping his blue square over.

You gasped. “I did it.”

He clapped slowly, his smile widening. “Impressive,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crisp 100,000 won bill. He held it out to you, his fingers brushing yours as you took it.

The contact sent a shiver through you. His touch was warm, grounding, but there was something unsettling about the way his gaze lingered.

“What happens now?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

His smile softened, but the gleam in his eyes darkened. “Now,” he said, rising to his feet, “you have a choice.”

“What choice?”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “You can walk away, take the money, and forget this ever happened. Or…” He tilted his head, studying you. “You can play a much bigger game.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. “What kind of game?”

His smile deepened, and for a moment, he looked almost sad. “A game that could change everything for you,” he said. “But be warned: once you start, there’s no going back.”

The weight of his words settled over you, but before you could respond, he leaned in slightly, his voice barely audible.

“I hope you choose wisely, Y/N.”

And with that, he was gone, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the station.

You sat there for a long time, the red tile still in your hand, the faint imprint of his touch lingering on your skin.

Deep down, you knew that whatever game he was offering, it would cost you more than you could imagine.

[loonao3o]

⋆ ࣪.✦ 𓂋 fallen angel 𓋼𓍊 ˳ ֹ₊

[loonao3o]

Don’t you wanna be a monster too?

i’m so happy to finally be posting this, Monster High was so important to me as a child and i hope i could express my love through my silly edits lol, hope you guys like it <3