#I would love you even if you were a murderer
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natalievoncatte · 3 days ago
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There was someone in her penthouse.
Lena paused at the door, listening. The short hairs on the back of her neck stood up, a tingling sensation running down her spine. She wasn’t sure what tipped her off, but after the fifth kidnapping and three or four attempted murders in her own spaces -office, lab, here- she always listened to those instincts. Kara never complained if it was a false alarm when Lena activated her signal watch.
Her thumb hovered over the button. She took another step inside and the door latched behind her. She was about to press when Kara said,
“Please don’t press that.”
Something was off. Her voice was raspy, as though she had a sore throat, and oddly distorted. It was as if she spoke through a damaged speaker. Lena edged from the foyer into the kitchen, her heart still pounding.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
Kara was standing in the living room in her super suit, or so Lena thought. Her cape was there, but the silhouette was different. Lena reached for the light switch and again Kara spoke.
“Don’t. Please.”
“Kara?”
“I’m not your Kara. I’m just… passing through.”
“Passing through my penthouse?”
Lena ran her thumb around the button, ready to press.
“Are you together in this world?”
Lena froze. The figure in her living room, Kara-but-not, was holding the framed photo of Lena with Kara smiling together, the one she’d once shattered. Kara had bought her a new frame for it when they were healing, still working out who they were going to be together, if their friendship could survive with a foundation that had so profoundly crumbled.
The glint caught Lena’s eye. One of Kara’s hands. At first she thought it was a medal glove but that wasn’t right. The shape was wrong, the fingers too thin, skeletal and claw-like. As her eyes adjusted, Lena could pick out more details.
Good God. The whole side of her face was missing, rebuilt into something inhuman and skeletal. A faint emerald glow from her chest and eye cast a pallid light across the living room.
“She’s my best friend,” said Lena.
“Best friend,” the creature whispered, her voice even harsher and more distorted.
“What do you want?”
“I told you, I’m passing through. I won’t be here long. But… can I look at you?”
“Look at me? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“Just let me look at you and I’ll go. Promise me you won’t scream or call me a monster.”
Lena swallowed hard.
“Should I turn on the light?”
“I would rather you didn’t.”
“Alright, then.”
The figure slowly replaced the photograph and turned, moving towards Lena. She limped, just a little, left foot dragging. Lena gasped.
It was Kara, but not. She had been… mutilated was the only word Lena could find for it. Half her face, her right arm, her leg, and worst of all, a gaping hole in her chest that contained a chunk of vile green Kryptonite burning inside. Her skin was deathly pallid, almost blue, raked through with sickly green streaks surrounded by faint bruises, as if her blood itself was poisoning her.
“My God,” Lena breathed.
“You’re so beautiful,” Kara said, her remaining eye so full of sadness and regret that Lena felt tears welling in her own.
When Kara wept in return, she wept verdant blood. She drew closer, and Lena stood stock still as Kara pressed a corpse-cold palm to her cheek.
“It’s been so long since I heard your heartbeat,” she said. “Thank you.”
“W-what happened to you?”
“Your brother, what else? He impaled me with a Kryptonite harpoon. You saved me. It’s almost funny. The Metallo Protocol kept me alive. If you can call this living.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lena whispered. “Can I help you? Is there something I could do?”
Kara shook her head, mechanical joints in her neck grinding. “There’s no cure for death, zhao.”
Lena blinked. Zhao? Was that Kryptonian? She wasn’t sure what it meant.
The cold palm fell away from her cheek.
“There must be some way I can help,” said Lena.
“In my world I killed your brother,” said Kara.
“In this world, I did. For her.”
“She loves you.”
Lena flinched. It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her and her legs went weak. She had to steady herself on the kitchen island.
“What?”
“Kara. She loves you.”
“How… why do you say that?”
“I have visited thousands of worlds. Thousands of timelines. There are many where you don’t even exist, where I don’t. But in all the ones I’ve found with the both of us, there is one constant: Kara Zor-El loves Lena Luthor. It’s inevitable, it’s like gravity. There is something in all of me that must love you.”
“You’re traveling across dimensions?”
She nodded, closing her one eye. “I’m searching. Before I killed Lex, he used his masterstroke against me. He couldn’t kill me, so he hit me where he could do the most damage. He sent Lena to the Phantom Zone before I ripped his heart out of his chest. Then something happened… the yellow aliens told me there was a crisis, a multiversal collapse that split the phantom zone into infinite shards.”
“Yes, the Crisis, but there should be only one Earth now. Your world should have been merged with ours.”
Kara sighed, a broken, pained rasp. “What happens when you subtract infinity from infinity?”
Lena frowned. “I see.”
“I know she’s out there. I can feel her. I thought your world might be the one, but there’s another me here, and the wrong you.”
“I hope you find her.”
“Thank you. May I ask you something?”
“Go ahead” said Lena.
“Do you love her?”
Lena didn’t need to ask who she meant. She felt a lump form in her throat even as her chest fluttered. This cold broken wreckage of another Kara stared into her as if to parse the strands of her soul.
“Yes,” said Lena.
Kara edged closer. “Then tell her. Please. Don’t make her wait. She’s too scared to tell you. She’s like all of us- she’s so afraid of her own strength that she won’t hold anyone truly close for fear she’ll crush them. She’s afraid of losing you, or losing you again. She’s lost everything. Her world, her people, her culture, two mothers and two fathers- there is so much grief in her that it could freeze a newborn star but you, you are the light that shines in the darkness. You are her red sunrise.”
Lena said nothing, fighting the tremble in her lip.
“I must go. She’s out there and I have to keep trying to find her.”
She turned away and Lena caught her arm, gently tugging. She stopped.
“Wait?”
Kara turned back to her, and Lena darted in close and pressed a soft kiss to her cold lips.
“What?” Kara blurted.
“For luck. You’re going to find her.”
“I wish I had your faith.”
Lena now pressed a palm to Kara’s cheek.
“You will. You’re Supergirl. You can do anything.”
Kara smiled with half a face and pulled free, activating a device on her belt. A portal opened before her, filling the penthouse with blazing light. She stepped through and was gone.
Lena stumbled to the sofa and collapsed onto it, hugging herself as the tears flowed.
A few moments later, the familiar sound of stacked heels thudded on her balcony and the door slid open.
Kara, her Kara, swept into the penthouse, frantic.
“Lena, what happened? I saw that flash. I was out on patrol and… are you crying?”
Kara knelt beside her and brushed her hair back from her eyes with her soft warm hand and said, “Baby, are you okay?”
Lena looked at her, really looked at her, and was simply overwhelmed. There was so much depth in her blue eyes, so much kindness and compassion and love.
“I am now,” said Lena.
Kara blinked a few times. “I don’t understand. What happened?”
“I promise I’m tell you someday, but first I have to ask you something.”
“Ask,” said Kara. “Anything you want, you know that.”
Lena curled a finger around Kara’s chin and watched her eyes widen, first in confusion and then in nervous anticipation as Lena bent towards her and tilted her head just slightly to press their lips together.
At first Kara didn’t react and Lena thought she’d made a terrible mistake, but then something in Kara came around and she lunged onto the couch, pressing Lena down to the cushions.
“Lena,” Kara breathed. “What… how… do you… with me?”
Lena hugged her fiercely.
“Stay with me, Kara. That’s what I want. Stay with me.”
“Always.”
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eggzeroni · 3 days ago
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I love answering questions 1. You truly are a young prodigy. (I refuse to elaborate.) 2. Sherlock's 3. It's all going on in my head lmao- I kind of love it but I'm still waiting for my AO3 account to be made, I'm very excited. 4. Johnlock 5. John gaped at him. "You just solved a case, a murder, for God's sake, and you're bored?!" 6. Sherlock (not including names, my most used word is 'room'.) 7. Still exploring. STILL. 8. YP (Young Prodigy) 9. Slightly unclear, but the latest dates I have are 24th August 2024 - 2nd February 2025 10. Like... 4 weeks? I think? 11. My Enola Holmes Oneshots- 12. Younger sibling x sibling's best friend (by that I mean platonically and also I don't even know if that exists or if I just made it up lmao) 13. Sherlock (ofc :3)/ HL 14. I get inspiration from other writers cause there are so many amazing ones :3 15. STORMY! 16. My bed :') 17. I usually write a bit, edit a bit, repeat. Which I know is really bad but I can't help it. 18. I don't have the exact sentence but once I made a character speak when they were dead AND PUBLISHED IT- I had to make it so that the character was speaking in someone's mind because I was too lazy to go back and rewrite it- 19. If guns were a thing in the 1800s. Lead me down a rabbit hole. That era is actually really interesting. 20. 2024 :') I did write beforehand I just didn't know where I could publish. 21. isn't this question nine? 2024 though <3 22. I write for myself to look back on, so no, but then again I've never gotten a comment that wasn't from a loved one, so how can I be scared :') 23. Old, poetry, progressive 24. I just take breaks, look at other people's writing and get ideas. 25. I like drawing, reading, painting, digital art, poetry, history, philosophy and if I carried on it would be the length of an entire fic (lmao) 26. I can't concentrate with other people around, I have to kick them out my room. But I can write with music. Funny thing is I can't go back and edit it with music, so where's the sense there? 27. That climax point where your fingers just fly across the keyboard and even you can feel the adrenaline from the scene- 28. editing and planning. Currently the stage I'm at now with my ACTUAL book with my original characters. Bro I wanna write :') 29. Very easy. It takes me a few seconds. 30. here :3
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cosmicmunsonwrites · 1 day ago
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mean!rafe slowly getting soft for reader but she realizes what sort of sick person he really is so she leaves him and now rafe is the desperate one (this would be really appreciated pretty!!!)
i loved, i loved, i loved you
mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader
cw — talks of murder, stalking, manipulation
summary — after overhearing a conversation between your boyfriend and his best friend, you begin to rethink your decisions.
authors note — can be read as a standalone but is apart of the mean!rafe series. part 1 is “i just wanna be one of your girls” and part 2 is “but i’ll do anything for you.” i’ll probably make a masterlist for this cause it’s probably going to end up turning into a series tbh so lmk if i should do that! please request more!!
do not copy or post my work anywhere else.
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“baby?” you heard him call out from the living room as the front door shut. he shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack then followed the smell of food into the kitchen where you stood all pretty. you had a cute little pink sundress on, a white apron with a ribbon adorning the middle, and your hair was perfectly curled. “you look like a fucking dream.”
he walked over to where you were standing and pulled you into him with his big hands lightly squeezing at your hips. “thank you, rafe. i made your favorite,” you replied with a smile on your glossed lips as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “how was work?”
a sigh left his lips and his body tensed. “same thing as usual. nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” he said with a kiss to your temple. “i missed you, angel.”
you frowned slightly and hugged him. “i missed you too, rafe.” you nuzzled into his chest deeper and he held you close, taking in the delightful scent of your shampoo. you pulled away a little sooner than he would’ve liked and pulled out his designated chair at the table. “why don’t you eat before the food gets cold?”
he nodded and sat down, laying the napkin over his lap and unraveling one pack of utensils you spent your afternoon packaging up to look professional. you sat across from him in your own seat and waited for him to take his first bite before beginning to eat your own.
he wrapped up some of the noodles on his fork and placed it carefully into his mouth while you sucked in a breath and waited for his validation. “it’s amazing, sweetheart,” he praised while getting more onto his fork. “you always prepare the best, you know that.”
you smiled to yourself and glanced down at your own plate, a red blush spreading across your cheeks. you began to eat as you two sat in a comfortable silence and enjoyed the pasta.
once he finished and was getting ready to get up and place his dish in the sink, you stood and beat him to it. “i’ve got it,” you said softly. you knew how long and draining his work days were and you’d do anything to make the rest of his day better.
“thank you, angel,” he replied gratefully while standing and brushing past you with a loving squeeze to your hip. “i’ve gotta finish up some stuff on my laptop. i’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
you nodded and began to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen. once you were all finished, you neatly folded your apron and placed it in the closet in the living room before heading up the stairs and to the office to see if he needed anything. before you could even knock, you heard a loud bang, which you assumed was his fist against his desk.
“goddamnit barry! i fuckin’ told you that i had it handled,” he spat into his phone. “i took care of him, alright? they got rid of the body, the evidence, all of it and now you’re over here screwing it up.”
the body? you placed a hand over your mouth to cover the sob threatening to slip past your lips. you pressed your ear closer to the door and waited for him to speak again.
you heard him curse under his breath and laugh angrily. “it was all going to plan and then—“ he paused. “get rid of him. do whatever you have to do, just fuckin’ get rid of him. i’ll do it myself if i have to.”
a tear hit your hand and you quickly backed away from the door and quietly walked into your shared bedroom. you immediately began throwing clothes into a bag until you heard the office door open. you shoved it under your bed and sat at the edge of it.
he came in and immediately made his way over to you, kneeling in front of you and holding your hands in his. “hey. what’s wrong, sweet girl?”
you just shook your head and faked a sad smile. “i jus’ miss you, rafe,” you lied as convincingly as you could.
he sighed. “i know, baby. and i’m sorry,” he mumbled softly. “look. i gotta go handle something really quick but we can spend the whole night together the moment i get back, ok? i promise.”
a shaky breath left your lips as you nodded and allowed him to kiss you then your forehead as he stood and made his way out towards the front door. the moment you heard it shut, you packed everything you could and sprinted out towards your car. you didn’t know how much time you had until he got back.
you were quick to disable your location on everything and turn on do not disturb before speeding off towards your parents house an hour away. you hoped it would be far enough and undisclosed so he’d never find you.
and only 30 minutes into the drive, you had 72 missed calls and 101 texts from rafe.
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athingofvikings · 1 day ago
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I've been trying to keep this blog more fandom-focused, and keeping political stuff to my main. I don't always succeed, but I try.
But for a moment, let me just get up on my soapbox and give a quick message.
I am a Jew. I am a "Zionist" in the direct and explicit sense of "I support Jewish self-determination and sovereignty in our historic homeland from which we were exiled" and nothing more. I do not support Netanyahu, and would dearly love to see him jailed. I am not an Israeli citizen. I feel that war crimes have been committed during Israel's war with Hamas, and those crimes should be investigated and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
However, I view accusations of a "genocide" against the Palestinians by Israel is nothing more than Holocaust Inversion, and an insult to survivors of actual genocides. Were there horrible, terrible things happening? Yes. Was it a deliberate and organized attempt to wipe out the Palestinians? No. You can tell, because they're still alive.
And the only way for people to square that circle of "Why are there any Palestinians still alive if Israel is trying to kill them all, given the military power Israel has?" was to engage in disgusting antisemitic conspiracy-mongering.
If any of this offends, there's the Unfollow button.
Now, I bring this up presently because I got a lot, and I mean a LOT, of antisemitism aimed at me from people I once considered acquaintances, associates, even good and dear friends.
One of my less... salutatory character traits is that I hold grudges. I'm not as bad as my father, who holds grudges until they die of old age and then has them stuffed and mounted, but it's something of concern to me.
That being said, when I see on my activity page a notification for a New Follower, and I recognize the name as someone who accused me of supporting genocide, or even personally killing Palestinian children...
Yeah.
I feel that grudge is warranted.
It's the audacity of coming back after more than a year and expecting everything to be fine when they called me a monster, a murderer, and worse, where I basically go, "Nope. You can fuck right back off."
To many of them, this was a fandom.
To me, this was personal on a level they cannot comprehend.
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beuxwhoyouare · 2 days ago
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Is It Infidelity?
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Ethan & Mark came up in a generation that wasn’t fond of the idea of them. They combatted adversity to be together through it all after meeting each other in high school. Coming up in a time that wasn’t too kind to gay people, they found solace in one another’s company and through it all fell in love. By that point in time, the world began shifting. Being gay was more common and less frowned upon.
The pair ended up going to college together, getting married, climbing their career ladders, and establishing themselves in their community. Eventually in their early 40s they decided it was time to take the plunge and start a family. They eventually had their little Billy goat and thought this would be the beginning of their next chapter. But as much as they wanted Billy’s new life to be surrounded by love, it presented new challenges that made Ethan & Mark doubt their preparedness and worse…their love for each other.
They got through years of bigotry and hatred, but resentment built between the pair. Eventually they realized they needed to spend time together being more thoughtful and constructive with their communication and began trying to see a couples counselor, but that required help to take care of Billy.
That’s when they met Aaron. A former collegiate football player, Aaron was in pharmacy school trying to pay his way through and looking for relatively long term and stable gigs to allow him a routine to focus on school. Aaron overheard the pair squabbling one time about how to make time to go see the counselor when he had the idea to pitch himself as a potential nanny for Billy.
The two men were taken aback by the strangers act of generosity and they’d be remiss to ignore his archetypical great physique.
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They invited him over for drinks at the house to get to know him better and ensure he wasn’t like a murderer or anything outlandish. His story endeared the couple to him even more and they all hit it off, including Billy. That was nearly 2 years ago now.
Ethan & Mark had seemingly worked on their tension, Aaron enjoyed their family unit. A child aged out of the foster care system, the family became a surrogate one to the future pharmacist. All was seemingly at ease once again and Aaron hoped that even when he finished school, he wouldn’t lose them or maybe he selfishly wanted something else that couldn’t be said aloud. Under the surface multiple things were bubbling.
Mark was not happy in their marriage anymore. He still loved Ethan and his son but he wasn’t sure that was enough to keep the marriage alive. They all had built a friendship with Aaron, so Mark thought he’d be the perfect one to confide in about the emergence of such turmoil in his heart.
Mark told Aaron one day about the fallout of love he was facing as Ethan worked a double at the hospital. The confession was a blindside to Aaron, but not for the reason you may think. Aaron loved them all dearly but he began gaining feelings for Ethan somewhere along the way. Could this be his chance to get the man he thought he wanted? No, surely that would ruin the relationships they’ve all built? Right? Almost like word vomit, Aaron released those inside thoughts aloud.
The silence between the two was deafening. The two stared at each other quietly for a few moments before Mark broke down crying. Aaron began inching closer to console his boss and close friend. As he sat close he began tearing up saying “I wish I could help you more in this moment. I love you guys so much and I love Billy he’s like a kid to me too at this point.”
Mark looked up and told the young man, “I’m so sorry that you’re having these feelings for Ethan and now you’re in the middle of our mess. I wish there would just be an easy way to end the sadness.” As the two wiped their tears, they agreed to not divulge anything to Ethan without the other one’s approval. In their respective homes, they both tossed and turned in bed, distraught over the days discoveries or so they thought. The world had other reasons to keep them tossing and turning. Aiming to add balance to their situation, the world had a solution and needed their souls to accomplish it.
A universal force aimed to add balance, ripping their souls from their bodies and placing them in each others corporal forms. When the switch was done, the two finally fell into sleep.
Mark woke up peacefully with no blaring crying from Billy. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened lately. Trusting muscle memory he made his way to the restroom eyes closed, bumping into a few things he didn’t recognize but also didn’t invest too much thought into. He fumbled into the restroom feeling a bit chilly, odd considering he went to sleep in a long sleeve pj top.
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Oblivious to the situation, Mark’s new physique stood in a doorframe it did many times before unaware of its new operator. As Mark moved to drop his pants to pee, he wrapped his now muscled hand around an unfamiliar thick morning wood. The size difference forced his eyes to finally open as he looked down gasping from the foreign sight below him. Gone was his long sleeve, replaced by mounds and mounds of sexy rippling muscle. Pecs like mountains with sharply pointed nipples. Ridges of cobblestone abs leading towards a v-line that introduced a thick, dark, rod below, insanely larger that the one he’d used for decades.
Instead of beginning to pee, he motioned over to the mirror in the restroom with pants still down. In the reflection there stood a nearly nude Aaron. Instinct took over as his new hand almost began jerking back and forth comfortably on his new thick pole. Speeding up as he involuntarily began moaning then grunting. As his pace picked up he wasn’t used to the sheer force needed to keep this body satisfied and while stacked with muscle the lack of preparedness led to him bracing himself against a nearby wall.
Meanwhile, Marks’ new phone sat buzzing at the bedside of the bed. Across the city, Aaron panicked calling Mark after realizing the new situation he found himself in, literally. He panic called several times in a row unaware the Ethan entered the room behind him. Slipping his hands around Aaron’s waist, Ethan pulled him in. The shocked new inhabitant of his husband’s body turned around shocked at the pull, turning around to figure out what’s happening. As he turned his head, Ethan dominantly went in for a kiss. Unbeknownst to Ethan, Aaron initially panicked and moved to resist the kiss before melting into the moment.
He couldn’t resist. If this was a dream, he might as well live it up. Aaron disregarded who he looked like and played the role he always wanted to be. A doting loving husband. He used context clues and realized Mark wasn’t the most domineering of the two, but used a little initiative to motion to the bed. Ethan pulled him over as the continued to make out, Aaron’s new husband savagely ripped off the boxers he was wearing. Ethan pushed Aaron to bend over on the bed, ass up just like he liked it. It was a side of Ethan that Aaron never saw while babysitting Billy but he was savoring every single moment.
Aaron’s new husband romantically kissed him from behind again before having his head shoved onto the bed. A tongue quickly beginning to then explore his hole before a familiar to the body but foreign to Aaron sensation arrived. Ethan quickly entered before slowly rocking back out. That odd tempo was weird to understand at first before Aaron quickly accepted the pace and went with it.
Across the city, Mark was still enjoying his self-pleasure rodeo grunting and moaning as he pounded his new body’s meat. The vitality of a younger body was something he previously lost along the way of life but was thankful to have once again. This body knew its way in a gym clearly so what would’ve broken a sweat previously was like child’s play now. Stroking back and forth, Mark used his free hand to try and stimulate himself the way he used to, trying to explore his hole. His new body nearly protested itself. Way too tight, never seemingly been explored. A strict dom top? He should’ve known. That discovery almost erotic itself turning Mark on even more.
The universe seemingly playing its hand once again as both men on both sides of the city climaxing at the same time. Both independently relishing their new situations. Both getting what they wanted without the need to sacrifice seemingly anything?
Aaron turned to Ethan doting to him almost pleading with his eyes to go again. While Mark picked up a nearby shirt and made his way to a pre-school workout.
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andromeda-collective · 2 days ago
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i have multiple and im going to mention all of them but im starting with THIS FUCKER HERE (blade from honkai star rail) AND I HAVE A VERY STUPID REASON FOR IT
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there was an minigame thing with a character named march 7th (dont ask) and there were little events you could encounter throughout it and one of them was that you had to choose between a red and blue pill (or the third option of giving a nonanswer) and since my choice didnt matter at all i went with the red pill because i know that the matrix is a transfem allegory and i also hc march as transfem but then another character made a little comment that blade would ALSO pick the red pill which completely makes sense for his character but since i was still on the transfem allegory mindset i had the thought of "wait does this make blade transfem??" so shes transfem to me now 👍
estrogen would NOT save her. not even REMOTELY. he's a suicidal immortal who physically cannot die because of a ritual his old friend-with-romantic-implications tried who he now wants dead more than anything else. hes basically possessed by evil plants that revive him every time he dies and he goes fucking feral. hes a mass murderer with a bounty of over 8 billion. nothing can save him. but transitioning might make her miserable life slightly more manageable? plus i mean.. throwing your old name away and being a new person? obviously a metaphor for being trans /j
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boothill! this is slightly for shipping reasons (turning a het ship wlw for funzies) but mostly projecting my gender-nonconforming transness onto the only southern disabled character i know of. are we different kinds of southern? yes. are we different kinds of disabled? also yes. do i care? absolutely not. (also because butch southern women make the world go round)
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also sampo because the idea that this fuck is a cisgender ANYTHING is laughable. this is a nonbinary transfem boymoding for shits and giggles who randomly switches to the girl voice when talking to someone JUST to fuck with them because nobody else would believe them and the person would think theyre losing it. typical masked fool stuff. gaslight gatekeep girlboss.
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and then from genshin impact: zhongli. who has CANONICALLY used shapeshifting to become a woman. and has likely done so on more than one occasion. this guy is CANONICALLY GENDERFLUID WHETHER PEOPLE LIKE IT OR NOT. and you can obviously be genderfluid and transfem at the same time so why the hell not :D
most other characters i hc as transfem i dont have much of a reason for, but im gonna list them anyways cause hell yeah
argenti (hsr) - she can have a little estrogen as a treat
dr. ratio (hsr) - no reason i just think it could work
sunday (hsr) - something something religious-trauma-and-giving-into-what-you-once-believed-to-be-sinful
diluc (genshin) - fanfiction on ao3 changed my brain chemistry
kazuha (genshin) - also no reason i just think it fits
sebastian solace (a game on roblox called pressure) - im gonna be honest with you op, i just like putting this fucker in situations. and i would love to see the struggle of medically transitioning when you've been forcibly had your body and dna altered to the point of no longer being human. even ignoring for a few seconds the thought that maybe hrt wouldnt have the same effect (or any effect at all) due to the experiments, how could you will yourself to alter yourself medically in any way after the horrific trauma you've experienced? its between fucking with your already fucked up body or having the dysphoria kill you from the inside out. i am rotating her in my mind even harder now.
p.ai.nter (from same game) on the other hand? a lot simpler. make the ai with guns a girl. also just a funny idea: you know that "put eyelashes on it to make it obvious that its a girl" thing? yeah. painter doing that.
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^ TELL ME SHE WOULDNT.
i would apologize for the essay but you did say i was legally required to share so this is your fault /lh
anyways i hope you enjoyed the women
If you see this post you’re legally required to tell me at least one trans woman headcanons you have for a canonically male character, I never get to see transfem headcanons like that, give me them, and for equality of my own please know estrogen could have saved Insector Haga and Dinosaur Ryuzaki I will not elaborate, also Yuya.
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hisirishsoufflegirl · 1 day ago
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Tea Is A Love Language ~ A.H x Reader
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A/N (wow I haven’t wrote that in years): Hi! I’m back (says them to people who did not even realise they stopped writing lmao). There’s been an Aaron Hotchner x You slow burn fic brainstorming away whenever I’ve been rewatching Criminal Minds for the past few years so I thought I’d make a comeback to write a sample entry (that takes place a bit into the actual fic) to see what everyone thinks, aha.
CW/Context: Aaron and Hayley are divorcing/there’s no Emily(sorry!)/Aaron being grumpy but then surprisingly sweet/Reid and reader are best friends/Morgan and reader are very close due a traumatic past/Aaron gave a private lil sweet pep talk to reader when they got overwhelmed after the college campus murders/the timeline is a bit jumbled but it’ll be easier to follow/explained in full fic/in canon mentions of violence/I’m rusty at this, forgive me
-
A sigh. Then a smacking sound as the paper contents of a file hit the desk.
“Who’s up for a drink?” Morgan stood up. Eyebrows raising as if a lightbulb flashed atop his head, he turned. “Actually.. who’s up for five?”
The man didn’t need to ask you twice. Nights out drinking with Morgan were always the safest. Sure, they were wild and chaotic.. but you always knew you would get home and you always knew you’d never wake up the next morning fearing you did something you regret. It was funny. One of the men who inspired you to join the Academy and pursue this as a career was not only now a colleague but a friend. A close friend at that. Your letters containing updates on your life since that awful period of your life when you were 18 were more for Gideon’s sake. Though that didn’t mean Derek never checked up on you throughout the years that led to you surprising the agent the day it was announced a new member was joining the team and in you walked into the table meeting.
“I don’t know..” your best friend trailed off, his focus on fixing the contents of his brown satchel.
You got up from your desk, the one attached to Spencer’s, shouldering your own bag. “Nuh-uh, Spence. You’re coming.” You looked up at him, trying your hardest to use your eyes to silently beg to coax him out.
It worked. It always worked. Reid hated nights out, especially Morgan’s definition of a night out, but you knew you made it tolerable for him. Many a night of drinking you sat with the doctor, letting him ramble off about statistics or Star Trek and often debating the one topic you yourself did know about - Doctor Who. You didn’t know why some of the others treated listening to his interests and rambles as almost a chore. You had always found them interesting and besides, how could someone not take an interest in what their best friend cared about?
“.. you’re still cosplaying at comic con with me, right?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed at you.
“Of course.”
“Alright, I’m in.”
You mouthed a “thank you” at him, your hand coming up to touch his elbow as a comfort as you both walked to join Morgan and Rossi heading towards the door.
“JJ?”
“Ugh, I’d love to but.. gonna have to take a rain check.” the blonde woman grimaced, picking up her share of files.
You felt someone brush past you as they hurried towards the glass door of the bullpen. You turned your head, realisation hitting you that it was your Unit Chief. You hadn’t properly spoken one on one to the man ever since the day the team was about to leave Flagstaff, Arizona. There had been a spree killer on a college campus, murdering women who were very similar in age to you and it brought back some painful memories. Painful memories as well as a feeling of guilt that you had survived your own attack and had went on to go and finish college. A privilege that those victims never got to make a reality. You had stepped away for a moment to compose yourself back at the hotel while the other agents were packing to go home when Hotch had appeared beside you. You had been sure you were to be scolded for being too soft or for your exterior slipping, a worry that was all too evident as you had tried to quickly wipe your tear away and swallow the ache in the back of your throat. But no. He had been kind. Really kind. The conversation had not been long, nor did the comforting hand on your arm to gesture you back to the hotel to leave linger, but it had helped.
“Hotch, you up for a beer?” the Italian man extended the invitation to his friend.
Hotch stopped in his tracks, his eyes flickering to the side as he pondered his answer. He decided with a sigh. “Sure.” He turned and you offered an awkward smile when his eyes settled on you.
“Agent Hotchner.” came the suited man with a clipboard and envelope into the room through the glass doors.
Breathing in, Hotch’s eyes looked away from you as he turned. “Yes?”
The man presented him with the clipboard and a pen to sign for the brown envelope.
Hotch’s eyes shifted down to it and his body stiffened slightly with a sharp intake of breath.
You had never seen Hotch display a crack in his exterior like that before. I wonder what’s in that envelope. You thought.
Breaking the silence, you sucked your lower lip in - a tell, you had been told by one of your profiler buddies, that you felt awkward and anxious. “What is it?”
Your boss stared down at the envelope, his fingers subconsciously kneading the paper. That’s one of *his* tells, you surmised, whatever it is it’s bothering him.
He finally glanced up at you through dark eyelashes, a look of defeat in those dark eyes. “Hayley’s filing for divorce. I’ve been served.”
Fuck. Fuck. You fucked up.
You watched as Hotchner took a final look at the contents in his hands before walking away, no longer feeling up to a fun and happy night.
~
“McCoy Boy! How was Connecticut?” You greeted Spencer as you, Morgan, JJ and Rossi piled back into the bullpen. You dropped your bag onto your chair and circled round to the opposite side of the desk to throw your arms loosely round the genius’ neck and shoulders. You never took advantage of the privilege of being the only one Reid allowed to casually touch him like this but now didn’t count. You had missed him. While you were in Indianapolis helping Rossi catch the monster that haunted him and three siblings, your best friend and your Unit Chief were in Connecticut interviewing a death row inmate.
Spencer rested his hand on one of your arms as you squeezed him, propping his book down on his desk. “Ultimately uneventful.”
You shifted your head from the top of Reid’s curly mop to his temple. “Fill me in anyway.”
Spence chuckled before turning his gaze at Rossi. “Uh sir, there’s someone waiting to speak to you in your office.”
You pulled back to crane your neck behind you. Sure enough, Kevin Lynch stood in the doorway to the office at the end of the walkway.
You focused on JJ’s face as Kevin talked, a face barely containing her smile and giddiness. Your eyebrows furrowed confused and as Rossi walked past to talk ‘man-to-man’ with the tech analyst, you mouthed ‘what??’ to the blonde.
JJ raised her eyebrows suggestively at you as she swivelled to walk away. “Garcia and Kevin sittin’ in a tree..”
Morgan’s mouth dropped open. “Get out of here.”
“Wait, what? What?” the brown eyed genius piped up, confusion and anxiety about missing a clue seeping in his voice.
“Didn’t you hear the song, love?” You asked your friend, your left arm still leaning on the back of his office chair for standing support.
“The song meant something? No, I missed it!” Reid grew frantic. Adorable.
“Yeah, it..” you trailed off as your eyes looked around the room as you looked up. They landed on the dark haired man in his pristine suit, shoulders tense as he hunched over his desk, one hand resting on his forehead.
He looks so stressed.
You sucked in your lower lip. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” You ruffled the top layer of Spencer’s brown curls. “I’ll explain it later.”
You moved your duffel bag onto the floor underneath your desk and settled in your chair. Every instinct in you was screaming to check in on your boss. That’s just the type of person you were and your instincts never did you wrong. You had gone on gut instinct when you asked Spencer what was causing him to struggle which eventually led to him going to rehab. You had listened to your instinct when it told you to gather up Morgan and JJ to join Rossi in Indianapolis a few days ago. But this was Hotch. This was your boss. You had never seen the man crack a smile let alone open up about his feelings.
Leaning your chin on your hand, your head twisted to look at the environment behind your desk. Looking behind you had become a habit since you were a teenager, even when your body knew it was in a safe environment such as the bullpen. But old habits die hard and listen, it was a habit that kept you alive in the field. Funny that. You’d think someone with that self preservation habit would run away from situations that posed a threat, not run to them. And certainly not make a career out of solving them.
Your eyes landed on the coffee machine set up and kettle sat on the communal kitchen countertop.
Hmm. Too late for coffee. You hummed. Hold on..
You swung your legs out from under your desk, pushing yourself up and away from your desk and headed towards the communal kitchen. The plethora of jars containing coffee grounds - the jar with the brown and gold label was Reid’s only go to - and sugar - the plastic tub of aspartame was JJ’s - littered the counter. But you weren’t looking for the coffee. Stretching up on your tiptoes, you opened up each cupboard. You searched the top two before bending down to view the contents of the bottom ones.
A-ha! Found you. You took out the green box praying it wasn’t empty and silently thanked God when it wasn’t. Plopping one of the tea bags into the clean ecru mug you found, you filled the kettle in the sink and flicked on the switch.
As the water boiled, you dared to glance to your right at Hotch’s office. You didn’t think it was possible but the man looked even more stressed. The noise of the kettle turning off drew your attention and you poured the hot liquid into the mug, pressing the teabag to the sides of the mug with the spoon before scooping it up and binning it in the pedal bin. Stealing the last of the semi skimmed milk from the fridge, you trickled some of it into the tea before stirring. Dropping the spoon into the sink promising to clean it in a few minutes, you grasped the handle of the cup and headed towards the steps to the walkway.
Your feet reached the closed door to the office and your knuckles rapped against the wood.
“Come in.” He sounds tired.
Careful not to spill the tea, you pushed the handle of the door down and the door opened. Hotch glanced up. Twice. Once out of habit. The other a double take. His head left his hand and he placed his pen down on the case files in front of him. You could tell he was trying to figure out what you were doing in his office, it was obvious in his eyes. For a man so expressionless, his eyes were always so expressive.
You realised you had been staring at him for probably a bit too long and shifted your eyes down to the mug in your right hand, your other hand clasping round it for the excuse of holding something as a distraction. You lightly tapped your ring against the porcelain as you tried to word your sentence in your head before your mouth could get you into trouble. The action had Hotch’s gaze look down at your hands, something you noticed he did often. You had a habit of fiddling with one of your rings when you wanted to say something but were deciding if you should or not. It usually ended in Hotch noticing and asking you your opinion on the topic at hand.
You took a breath in. “Sir, if I had known.. I wouldn’t have asked about the envelope in front of everyone.“
“Y/L/N-“ Hotch sat upright in his chair.
“Anyway, I uh, I’m not going to ask you to talk about it.” You reassured him, cutting him off. Still looking at the mug in your hands, you continued. “I just want you to know that you’re not alone in this. I, the team, will support you in any way we can.”
You could feel your heart speeding in your chest, you were sure your boss could even hear the thumping. You risked looking up. The usually stoic man’s gaze softened, his forehead smoothing out. Maybe Hotch wasn’t so scary all the time.
“My mother always liked to show it with tea,” You remembered the mug in your hands. Probably should explain that, yeah. “And it’s what I know so.. uhm..” You shuffled forward closer to his desk and settled the cup on top of the dark wood. Stepping back, your hands went to the back of your trouser legs.
Hotch stared at you, his expression not giving anything away. “You didn’t have to.”
You cocked your head to the side. “Think of it as repaying the favour.”
You watched as those big dark eyes softened, gaze switching to the mug now sat on his desk. Giving an tight lipped smile, you nodded awkwardly and turned to leave. You didn’t wanna overstay your welcome. As your hand reached for the door, your name being called stopped you in your tracks. Not your last name. Your name.
“Y/N?”
You turned, surprised at the switch from your surname to your first name. Hotch called everyone by their surnames, even Rossi sometimes. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.” He meant that. Sincerely.
You tried to stop the smile etching its way onto your face. You felt bold. “Don’t mention it.. Aaron.”
Hotch - Aaron cracked a small smile. A tiny quirk of his lips. You nodded at each other, your hand closing the door behind you as you left the office.
Taking the steps down to your desk, you didn’t see Hotch bring the mug to his lips, taking a swig. His eyebrows raised in approval. Another swig. Leaning back in his chair, he inhaled, looking to his left to watch the bullpen out of his office window. He spotted you carrying case files back to your desk, engrossed in conversation with Reid.
He sighed, his attention turning back to his desk, pausing before opening the drawer next to him. His fingers hovered over a brown envelope, picking it up and sliding the contents of it out in front of him. Taking a breath and another swig of tea, Hotch picked back up his pen and signed his name on the dotted line.
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interact-if · 2 days ago
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Black History Month Author Spotlight: Lapin
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To kickstart the Black History Month Author Spotlight series, I'd like to introduce everyone to our first IF author, Lapin (@harlequinoccult)!
(I had a ton of fun reading Lapin’s answers, and I’m sure you will too! Read on for a celebration of ‘weird,’ Lapin’s Black southern gothic / horror influences, and how a D&D game could lead to interactive fiction!
Lapin, thank you again for your candid, humorous responses, I am very honored to have gotten to know you better :D)
Author: Lapin
Black creole and cajun, artist and writer, and wannabe game developer
Games: Slaughter Squad (Horror, Slasher, Romance)
Synopsis: YOU HAVE A HUNGER A HUNGER THAT YOU’VE BEEN NEGLECTING For the most part, you’re a pretty normal mid-20-something year old who lives in a shitty apartment in the city. Well, except for one thing. Your.....”Associate” Carter “Dollface” Abernathy. Who is a murderer, and quite frankly, a sloppy one at that. And you’re the accessory to his crimes. No matter what way you’ve gotten to know the man, or how you feel about him, you’re stuck with him, and stuck with just being his little “helper” ........Or are you? Especially when you’re suddenly given a....Unique opportunity.
Games: The Valley of Luck (Fantasy, Adventure, Romance)
Synopsis: The Valley of Luck was said to be a myth. Something that grandparents would tell their grand-kids around a campfire. Even those who worshiped Lucian, The God of Luck, thought it nothing but an old wives tale. Until, one day, a man with an arm made of solid gold started telling people that he'd been there, that he'd seen the Valley. Word spread quickly, and suddenly, every continent was alight with the rumor that The Valley was real, that it could give you all the riches you could ever want, and then some. However, your quest, whether related to The Valley or not, will lead you down a much stranger path.
Quote from the interview:
My upbringing was a bit odd. I am the youngest of three, two older brothers, one being a half brother, in a black military household… Middle school Lapin was a jock. But, lo and behold, the internet started getting more popular and that kid's brain exploded from internet exposure, for better and for worse. … I feel that there is a specific and niche demographic of people like me that were raised by early 2000s to 2010s internet. And on that era of internet, were creepypastas, online horror, early ARGs….I ADORED internet horror, which was my gateway into classic horror, funnily enough. Slaughter Squad, in my eyes, is a letter to that black kid that wanted to be weird. Be weird, be messy, see a fucked up movie, get more out of life.
Read on for the full interview!
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Tell me more about yourself! What are some things new readers or long-time readers might not know about you?
Both parts of my family are 100% from Louisiana, New Orleans and the deep south. My moms side have been there so long, we have two streets named after us.
Can you tell me a bit about what you’re working on right now and your journey into interactive fiction? What inspired the game/story you’re currently writing?
My main project, of course, is Slaughter Squad. I love slasher movies and horror media in general. But what I always noticed with horror/romance, at least in the visual novel scene, is that the main character is nearly always the one getting screwed over, so I thought, well, what if the bad guys actually are your peers? How would this dynamic change if they don't see you as prey? I never thought that premise would appeal so much to so many but hey, I can't complain! I adore seeing people having fun with the silly little concept I had.
Now, my secondary project, The Valley of Luck. Some may not know this, but this story is based off of a D&D campaign I DM'ed back in the day with my friends. All the ROs are NPCs that my friends had, or where going to encounter. I won't lie, I did shy away from it and changed some things when the whole debacle with Wizards of the coast (the company that "owns" D&D) Where making some...questionable decisions. But this story is my baby. My first born. This one has been in the works far longer than SLSQ and has a lot of background lore that I hope I get the opportunity to share.
I do have a few other projects bumping around, One I am particularly excited for, But that one will have to wait a little bit~
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How has your identity, heritage/background, upbringing, or personal experiences influenced your storytelling or writing process? OR How does your work feature aspects of your identity / experience?
My upbringing was a bit odd. I am the youngest of three, two older brothers, one being a half brother, in a black military household. I never felt that I truly had a sense of identity until that household inevitably split up. Everyone talks about being the weird kid in middle school, but no one mentions being the "normal on the outside but wants to be the weird kid so bad its painful on the inside but can't because you were told that stuff is 'white people shit' " type of kid.
Middle school Lapin was a jock. But, lo and behold, the internet started getting more popular and that kid's brain exploded from internet exposure, for better and for worse. I was a little shitter on the internet, I can't lie about that, as much as I want to. But I feel that there is a specific and niche demographic of people like me that were raised by early 2000s to 2010s internet. And on that era of internet, were creepypastas, online horror, early ARGs....I ADORED internet horror, which was my gateway into classic horror, funnily enough. Slaughter Squad, in my eyes, is a letter to that black kid that wanted to be weird. Be weird, be messy, see a fucked up movie, get more out of life.
What does your writing process look like? Any rituals or habits? Any tips, tricks, philosophies or approaches that have worked very well for you?
Let your characters speak through you like you're being possessed by a demon.
What’s the one thing you’re really proud of that you’ve written so far? Do you have a favorite character or scene that you’ve written?
I am so serious.
is it wildly inconvenient? yes. does it help your writing a ton? also yes. Doing Roleplay with friends is a fantastic way to learn to do this. being a DM for a D&D game has basically made it so characters can simply speak from my brain at any given moment. It's also annoying because some of these people do NOT shut up. Learning how a character would react on the fly does wonders for dialogue writing and character analysis. Roleplay with your friends, or hell, strangers who are down to clown that could become friends. Be cringe. be free.
I love the opening to Slaughter Squad and if you told me to rewrite it with a gun to my head I would tell you to shoot me. I love how punchy it is and it came out exactly how I wanted it to. I don't play favorites with characters (<- lying) but my two favorites to write are the stinky little bastard cat Sterling in TVoL and.....Carter, from SLSQ. I love writing complete bastards. One being lighthearted and gets a pass for it because he's just a kitty cat and the other you want to actively beat his face in with your bare hands. It's SO funny.
If you were to say one thing to your readers, other authors, and/or the interactive fiction community: what would it be?
Write. Write it now. Doesn't have to be good doesn't have to be polish all that matters is that you WROTE IT. All the bells and whistles can come later!!!! Stop thinking about the later and think about the now!!!! Write what you love and never give two shits about if it's cringe!!! Be excellent to each other!!!
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Any books, music, movies etc. you’re obsessed with at the moment, or which changed your life (or perspectives on something)?
GO LISTEN TO CHROMAKOPIA BY TYLER THE CREATOR RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!
This-or-that segment: (bold = Lapin’s pick)
Coffee or tea?
Early mornings or late nights?
City or countryside?
Angsty or Cozy romances? (Or enemies-to-lovers or best-friends-to-lovers?)  
Steady progress or frenzied binge-writing followed by periods of calm?
Summer or Winter?
First drafts or editing?
Introvert or extrovert?
Plotter or pantser?
Characters or plot first?
Lapin’s custom “this-or-that” pairing: Rain or Shine
More on Black Southern Gothic:
Black southern gothic can vary a lot, but when I think of it, I think of old semi abandoned wood shotgun houses in the swamp, all white tiny baptist churches where the white paint is peeling from the heat and humidity, riding horses down a dirt paved street while people still ride by in their old busted down 1960s chevys. Old plantation houses that have been reclaimed by the swamp. The dark, humid heat of the night on a street with no streetlights. Every house you see is absolutely haunted by something and not just ghosts. Voodoo and hoodoo is different than what people will tell you it is.
Sassafrass, Cypress and Indigo by Ntozake Shange, Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jessamin Ward, and anything by Toni Morrison 100%.
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elodieunderglass · 3 days ago
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I'd like to know more about Killie's family!
Thank you so much!! I LOVE THEM
Killie’s family are a horse racing “dynasty” of several generations, with his branch being especially trashy, mean to each other, in debt and all-consumingly horse-obsessed. The historical base of the paternal family is County Meath in the Republic of Ireland - Killie’s mother is English.
The greater family is competitive, horse-obsessed, and that depressing mindset of being conservative-without-being-rich. You’re not allowed to name children like racehorses (because of woke) but they’ve made up for it by having a tradition of sharing a generation-based initial letter for their first name. Killie’s in the “C” generation, and his siblings and cousins all have C-names.
The parents are awful, and you can see the stamp of their influence on Killie and his siblings. The family are justifiably proud of Killie, though toxic about it.
Here’s the sibling set before Charlie’s estrangement:
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Press “Keep reading” for fascinating Killie personal life below:
Killie (Cillian), oldest, and even by their family’s standards, incredibly Good at Horses. Master of the preternatural jockey powers of the mental timer (can set and stop accurate stopwatches and timers in his head; the opposite of time blindness), psychic horse connection, inhuman discipline and stoicism (the Jockey Constitution (TM).) champion jockey over jumps and on the flat, closing in on legendary status, while also secretly falling apart in every other direction. We happen to know that he’s secretly a bisexual demisexual wet stray cat with exhausted anxiety and Terminal Horse Autism, but he does a very good job of projecting aggression acceptable jockey energy, and therefore Nobody Suspects. Moved to the UK as a contracted jockey with a prominent stable and is genuinely, genuinely good at what he does. About 4’10”, extremely desirable height for an international-quality lightweight flat jockey, but just about too light for UK/Irish steeplechasing (but he’s intensely bonkers, so he does it anyway.)
Charlie (Charles), twin, hates horses (actually rather good with them as animals! but hates competition, gambling, pain, The Racing Industry, hurting himself, pain, animal abuse, falling off, trashiness, when they step on you, horse racing, and Being So Brave About It.) Horse Hating ADHD, pictured here being insufferable because he actually owns clothes besides breeches and boots. Family lore states that the twins were born prematurely because Charlie attempted to murder Killie in the womb, but that sounds medically improbable. Regardless, the twins failed to thrive in NICU until being placed in the same incubator together, so even if murder attempts were made, they reconciled right away. Unfortunately estranged from family, sport and home by being unapologetically and flagrantly bisexual, he vanished from Killie’s life for over a decade, and ended up building an unexpectedly normal and healthy life in which horses did not eat any of his fingers. They used to have magical twin telepathy before estrangement.
Charlie always sounds like he’s speaking with emojis, has a great deal of charm, and did so much of The Talking when they were younger that Killie was able to secretly conceal and get over his own stammer. While being outwardly 300x more social and funny and lovable, Charlie is actually much more of a bastard than (secretly soft) Killie, and defended Killie and the other siblings from bullies on all sides, including/especially their parents.
Ciara, an unpleasant wench three years younger than the twins, who wasted her twenties being mean in the comments. Mediocre jockey, now a trainer’s assistant, back living with parents while slow-motion Republic of Ireland (TM) Divorce goes through. Despite being a homophobic harpy during the catastrophic Estrangement Incident, would desperately like to see Charlie again. Much of her internet usage sprang from the compulsion to find Charlie on social media (she never managed.) weirdly, being really online accidentally radicalised her, and despite only hanging out with incredibly conservative bigoted people IRL, she made nice friends online and became secretly quite tolerable, and guilty about all of it. Wouldn’t talk to Killie about any of this, though. Killie’s perfect. Killie’s the culmination of a five-generation breeding experiment to create the perfect jockey, and by all metrics, it worked. Killie once had a 500-kilo horse fully land on his thighbone and only said a mild “bugger.” Killie wouldn’t get it at all.
Colm - youngest. not a great rider, not very interesting, not much presence, not very brave, no particular instinct for horses, not especially disciplined, no particular ambition, and excessively large. Works as an exercise rider, groom and general stablehand for his parents (constant criticism, zero thanks), and presumably has a private life, but keeps his head down. His takeaway from Charlie’s estrangement was: everyone loved Charlie most of all, and that’s how quickly they threw him away - what hope do I have, if I put a foot wrong? Really misses Killie, lacks the ability to follow him, lost as a result.
Charlie and Killie reconciling would shore up a tremendous amount of Killie’s collapsing mental landscape, and prove utterly necessary for Killie surviving the total tailspin of being forcibly loved by a completely random great big beardy nerdy American man life outside of being a jockey.
And it is entirely possible that there are uncles and aunts and cousins who would turn around and say, quite fiercely, Cillian’s the best of us. We love and admire him more than we love winning. He throws his heart over the fences and then follows it, and when it’s important he always wins. If Killie wants a boyfriend - then you know what? Fuck it. Maybe that’s winning. Maybe we’d rather be on his side, the winning side - the side of the best of us.
It has a chance of all being okay.
(Greyuncle Era: Ciara and Colm manage a near-complete recovery from their family of origin. They choose to never have kids, and good for them. Charlie, polyamorous bisexual in an incredibly stable three-person marriage, has a mysterious number of kids (he and his husband and wife produced kids with the admirable Lucky Dip method; but they’re all Charlie’s, of course. They’re also all his biologically, because he won. He won all of them. He has the fastest sperm, if you want to know. okay, admittedly only some are markedly shorter and more ginger than the rest, but frankly YOU NEVER KNOW, do you?? Charlie himself has a brunette sister! and a younger brother who is VERY NEARLY almost tall?? Genetics are a mystery 😤 no this is NOT a racing thing, this is - no he’s not competitive. He’s better than that. He hates - they’re - shut up.
This results in the “between 12-75 business greatniblings” that Killie and Derek share. Derek actually knows how many there are. Killie cannot physiologically remember that kind of thing, his brain just turns to static; and Charlie possibly doesn’t know himself. And it’s okay and it’s okay and it’s okay and it’s okay and in fact they are HAPPY AND WELL.)
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cosmerelists · 2 days ago
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Stormlight characters! Renarin & Rlain are dating! What is your reaction?
As requested by anon. :)
Previously in this series: Shallan/Kaladin, Kaladin/Adolin, Jasnah/Shallan, and Raboniel/Navani.
[Warning! This post contains major WAT spoilers!]
Shallan: [In the sickos meme pose] Ha ha ha ... yes!
Renarin: She's been doing that ever since the spiritual realm.
Rlain: Just don't turn around. Keep walking.
---
Adolin: Hmmm, so...I dated LOADS of women before I finally struck gold with Shallan (love you, babe!).
Adolin: Whereas Renarin dated ONE guy and found the gemheart immediately??
Adolin: ...That probably means something, but I'm not sure what.
Shallan: Renarin is the smarter brother?
Adolin: Yeah, that's probably it.
---
Jasnah (fondly): It's times like this that I'm so glad I did not murder my cousin.
Rlain: Please don't make a speech at our wedding.
---
Venli: ...oh, ooookay.
Venli: So when Rlain gave off vibes of "I wouldn't date you Venli if you were the last femalen on Roshar" that was because of...this?
Rlain: Also I just didn't like you.
Venli: Come on, man!
---
Navani: ...
Navani: I am...surprised, I suppose, but Dalinar is dead and I must be both of Renarin's parents now.
Navani: I must do as Dalinar would do.
Navani: Renarin, if you need me to also date a Singer of my sex to support you...
Renarin: Thanks?
---
Kaladin: Wow, I did NOT see that coming!
Kaladin: I thought they hung out a lot because they were good friends!
Kaladin: And that sometimes they stared wistfully at each other when the other wasn't looking because they were friends!
Nale: Say, Kaladin, we Heralds have this term "ace"...
---
Skar: I like it when Bridge Four members date each other!
Skar: It's like they become EXTRA Bridge Four!
Skar: Bridge Four squared!
---
Drehy: Yup, yup.
Drehy: My "men who stare at other men"-dar is NEVER wrong.
Sigzil: I wonder if there's a shorter way to say that?
Drehy: There's not.
---
Sigzil: Well, it still makes me uncomfortable, but Renarin is Bridge Four and I will get past it.
Leyten: The lack of social reassignment paperwork, you mean?
Sigzil: What else would I mean?
---
Rock: All I can say is...
Rock: You're welcome, everyone!
Rock: Never forget that it was ME who first paired them up!
---
Wit: Soooo...my joke about Renarin dating several women at once was...
Renarin: A...very kind attempt to not out me before I was ready?
Wit: Sure! Let's go with that!
---
Ghost Dalinar [floating by, ghost-style]: There's... a... reason... I... sent... you... "pride"... my... son...
Wit: Does that metaphor even work on Roshar?
Jasnah: Let them have this.
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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 days ago
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Remember us all
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Caracalla x wife!reader
warning : hurt/comfort, emotional, reader is pregnant, mention murder and death, angst, kissing, cuddling
Summary: With the death of Geta, which she had witnessed, terrified for her life and that of her husband, her husband seemed to be lost. Macrinus, who could so easily take over Rome, represented a real-life nightmare for the imperial family. But in all this horror, Caracalla seemed to come back to her from his madness because their love for each other simply had to heal him.
info : After weeks or months I returned with another Caracalla one-shot. Have fun, it's been a long time since I wrote for the sweet and now I wish you a lot of fun :)
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They all had a dream of Rome.
They wanted to make Rome even bigger and wider. One battle after another would have been fought, they would have raised the flag of the empire and the three of them would have been the rulers of the world.
From the moment she had been introduced to the two emperors, when she had seen the two blond young men whose appearance was godlike, something in her had fallen for them, especially the younger one.
It was the kind only given by gods, a togetherness of their own, a family the two formed.
The two together had defied everything to wear the golden crowns and made the old dream of Rome so tangible.
Above all they were two people who were also fond of her, the hours she had spent with Geta, looking over maps together at the table, drinking wine together and practising speaking in front of the senate and the people.
A man of politics and the art of attention, despite his age he was a good emperor, ,,As I love my brother, so I would give you my blessing if your heart desires him too" he had told her one evening as they both stood on the balcony looking out over the city.
Her embarrassed smile, however, spoke of wariness, even more time in Rome she had spent with Caracalla, ,,I would love nothing more than to share my life with him" she had replied, not realising what those words would lead to.
She spent every minute and hour she had free with the golzahn bearer, listening to his ideas for even more fights and battles, putting them down on paper or turning them into figures made of ceramics.
But above all she was impressed by his monkey, who had learnt to bring her berries when Caracalla gave an order, ,,Dundus likes you just as much as I like you my princess" he always called her, with a broad smile.
She was the princess for him, a princess from a distant empire that allied itself with Rome and accepted its flag, a political alliance that led to an unexpected love.
A love that only took a sun and moons to become a golden wedding of a size and class that Rome had not seen for decades, the marriage between Caracall and his beloved princess.
A marriage and an alliance of love and honour, two hearts beating for each other that were a perfect match.
It was his amusing manner that appealed to her, when worries about the future became too great and nightmares plagued her, it was he who cuddled up to her at night.
Caracalla who took her hand and entertained her with stories...while she brought him back to the now.
When his gaze of madness settled on hers and he recognised his wife, his Rome and his brother, he had his family back.
When he kissed her lips and felt her, tasted her, felt her heartbeat from the moment on their wedding night to the many days later when he would not let go of her.
He was like a sun that seemed to shine only for her, he was the one who loved her night after night, let himself be loved by her.
The news of her pregnancy only a few moons later surprised hardly anyone in the kingdom as songs and poems were already being spread about them both.
A pregnancy that moved even Geta to tears, ,,We are a family, with hope and future the gods seem and all to be gracious" he announced as the celebration in her honour began, Caracalla smiling proudly as he placed a hand covered in golden rings on her still flat stomach.
When his bright eyes looked into hers and she heard him say, ,,I am going to be a father, you are my wife, the mother of the child...I could not have had anything better" and he gave her a kiss, in a moment when he had never been as clear as on that day.
A day, however, that was unfortunately only a few months in the past and whenever she looked outside, Rome seemed to become more and more of a nightmare.
After Acacius' execution the people had gone mad but even she could not have changed her husband and brother-in-law's mind, not after such a great betrayal that had been committed.
A nightmare that didn't stop as she paced her room restlessly, her stomach no longer flat but slightly rounded, ,,Your family will take care of the nightmare, you will have a peaceful future my Helios" she said to her child, praying once more to the gods as she decided to return to them.
Despite the fact that she was supposed to stay away from the windows and the outside, she wanted to see them, her family, her husband and brother-in-law.
But she would never have imagined that the nightmare was so real, so close, so bloody and so devastating as she made her way from her room through the corridors of the palace.
Her scream rang through the palace as she saw the dying, help-seeking look on Geta's face as his body fell to the ground.
The blood spread around him like a pond and two men looked at her, one cool and waiting, the other excited and amused, ,,Empress just in time would you take care of your husband, someone has to take care of the mishap" Macrinus said and the blood dripped from his hands like a warning.
A warning that would be stained with her blood and that of Caracalla when he got his chance.
What had happened, he was predictable, he would have lost, he would have killed her, Caracalla and the heir...he was like a lion waiting for his chance to strike and until then she would have to watch out for Caracalla to turn the blade on her former ‘friend’ Macrinus.
The tears and weeping mingled with screams as she looked from the body of her brother-in-law to the knife in her husband's hands, ,,It's all mine at last!" Caracalla exclaimed happily and slowly made his way to her.
Her backing away from the blade, the help that came too late for Geta made a guilt burn inside her, ,,Ca-Caracalla...look at me we-we should clean you up" she said her voice shaky, fear occupying her senses as her trembling hand reached out for the blonde's.
To her relief, he looked at the sword almost immediately before throwing it to the ground, the sound making her flinch.
He didn't realise what he had done, what he had done to Geta, that he had killed his brother and that Macrinus was the revenge.
His hand was warm and sticky as she felt the still warm blood of Geta as she gasped for air and pressed her other hand to her stomach.
Praying silently to the gods to end this nightmare, ,,Are you unwell? It's all mine now, your emperor will take care of your suffering" he said encouragingly, stroking her cheek.
Playfully teasing the kiss he gave her, not knowing that the blood on his hands seemed like the punishment of the gods. Behind his maniacal sweetness and excitement, her love could be seen but the actions were his carnality.
The blood that now stained her too made her dizzy, but holding on to him for a moment she saw that the childish madness slumbered in his blue eyes, her husband was not there.
Her Caracalla was not with her, ,,It's-It's all right, we should...clean you up for your ascent" she tried to compose herself and pointed to the large washbasin in her room with two chairs in front of it.
His assent and nods of agreement were laced with approval as her hands poured the rose-scented water into the bowl, adding the water and seeing in the mirror how his eyes never left her form.
The madness flamed in the bright blue of his eyes, the broad amused grin as he saw this vision clear as the sun before him. The Rome for himself and her, just the two of them, just him, never with Geta as it seemed for the moment.
,,I will have games organised, laws passed and statues of your image made of gold erected" he spoke to her as his hands gripped hers, blood staining them again.
Blood she thought would be that of the birth of their child, not that of her brother-in-law and future uncle of the heir.
Trying to take the situation as calmly as she could, she began to gently clean his hands of the blood, ,,That's flattering my husband but...do-do you remember us?" she asked carefully, feeling his fingers twitch as he looked at the blood in the water.
The two of them danced with each other, played and courted each other, something they both did every day. Dancing together, holding each other, being one, a memory of them both created from the water of purity and the blood of death.
Seeing how in his mind he was struggling with madness, the curse that had gripped him for years, the blood that interested and amused him...a blood that suddenly made him look at her.
She saw in the blue eyes how something broke, how something disappeared, how hands tremblingly touched her stomach, he laid his head against her chest and she heard the bitter weeping.
Her attempts to calm him with kisses on his light head, her hands holding him and letting him cling to her helped little, little in the face of such a real horror of what he had done.
The trembling of his body as he clung to her whenever it caught up with him, whenever he realised what he had done in his delusion.
When the younger brother realised what a stain they both were, when the guilt consumed him and yet the slight relief that it wasn't his wife and child he could have killed.
As the flames of Rome became more and more conscious to him...and he realised that Rome was dependent on a mad child emperor and his pregnant wife with an unborn heir.
It was his nightmare, without his brother, dependent on her love not to slip into madness, he could do nothing but ask his wife, his princess for forgiveness. Because his love was all he could give her.
The bitter weeping which was interspersed with words begging for forgiveness that would not stop, ,,I am here, my heart...everything will be all right...for the three of us" it came slowly from her, not knowing if any other words would cause her own collapse.
As she could no longer hold back her own tears as she held her husband, held the unborn child and all of Rome seemed to fall around her, it would be up to them not to let the doom come over them all.
They would just have to remember each other, be there for each other and as long as their hearts beat for each other in remembrance, Macrinus had not won and Rome would see more days to come.
A promise for Geta, for Helios and the couple to themselves when she felt Caracalla's kiss as they held one another.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@songbirdmunson , @bel0ved-heretic , @cottoncandiescupcakes , @snazzynacho , @abundance-of-fic-reblogs , @dropkicksskz , @multific , @fallout-girl219 , @k-yurieee , @eddie-munsons-mommy , @qardasngan , @sweeteststing , @myromanempire81 , @duck-duck-goose2 , @babey-fruit-bat , @urween , @pecxiebu , @starry-night-lover1 , @aegonsslut , @baby-im-urs
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sweetinsaniiity · 11 hours ago
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Makeshift Chemistry
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► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - obsessive!mafia!Seonghwa x fem!reader◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - mafia au, yandere trope, toe-curling suspense, thriller, crime, Seonghwa is extremely !obsessed and !possessive, dark romance, depictions of Seonghwa's slow descend to madness, so he's kinda !psychotic, true insanity (like, I made him pretty mentally deranged here), kidnapping, imprisonment, escape from captivity, toxic form of love, emotional and mental torment, forced love, angst, plot twist (stay away from the comments to avoid spoilers!) ◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!!, murder and extreme violence (semi-graphic) but not towards reader, drugged (non-graphic), consensual-hate sex, dom!Hwa, but whiny!Hwa, mommy kink, hard-fast-rough, standing sex, handjob, degradation, gunplay, oral, cum eating, missionary, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms (on Seonghwa's end), multiple creampies, no protection (DO NOT DO THIS!!!!), just super kinky lol◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 28.7K words (this had to be this long sorry) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - You loved Seonghwa, until you found out that he was a Mafia Lord, and you didn't want to get involved, so you left him. But Seonghwa wasn't going to let you go that easily, because his unhealthy obsession with you knew no bounds. Soon enough, this obsession is marked by violence and manipulation when he kidnaps and imprisons you just so you could love him back. You barely escape with your life, but what about the feelings in your heart that were trapping you? How were you supposed to love Seonghwa when he’s slowly losing his mind and sanity in the guise of loving you too much? ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - PLEASE READ AT YOUR DISCRETION. There will be extreme instances of how mental instability affects love, and Y/N isn't clean. Do not read if you're uncomfortable, it's not mandatory even if you enjoy my work. Prioritize your mental stability, and I'll see you in my next work. If you do choose to read it, enjoy! Fic inspired by Chappell Roan's Coffee.◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs @sunnysidesins @jjongbearshoney @midnightrebel1028 @xomakara @lovetaroandtaemin◄
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‘Coffee?' -Park Seonghwa
You bit your lip apprehensively, the phone in your hands almost slipping with how lax your grip on it had become. What was once your lifeline to the world - the window to what was beyond your walls - was now the bane of your existence.
A loud shrill cuts you off of your thoughts. The phone was now ringing. You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound, and in a panic, you unwittingly pressed the red button.
"Fuck," you hissed, not fully intending to reject the call. Well, not entirely, anyway. You didn't mean to immediately do it, your nerves always failed you at the last minute. 
You were back to biting your bottom lip, but this time, you bit on them with twice the anxiety and twice the strength since they were actively bleeding out in between your teeth. You jumped out once more when your phone dinged.
‘Do not ignore me. Get dressed. We’re getting coffee.’ -Park Seonghwa
Ignoring his incessant calls and messages shouldn't have been this difficult and stressful. You could feel your sanity slowly slipping away from you every single time you'd leave another text from Seonghwa unanswered.
This prick, you thought, gritting your teeth so hard, the grating sound of it made your head hurt. You haphazardly threw your phone on your desk, not caring if it gets smashed or not. It would be better if it did, honestly. That way, you’d have no contact with him left, and his control over you would vanish. 
And in that way, you wouldn’t be tempted to see him over and over again. 
It wasn’t a fault of his own sometimes. There was always this urge in you to see how he was, what he’s doing, and if he was the same man you left a couple of months ago. 
You bit your lip, looking down on your outfit. It was a simple white button-up shirt, some jeans, and a pair of heels. It wasn’t a choice of yours, either; Seonghwa loved elegance. He would make you change, anyway, and waste your time. 
You’ll meet up with him one more time, and tell him that it would be the last time. You’ll meet up with him one more time, and tell yourself that it would be the last time. 
The cafe was empty when you got there, unsurprisingly. You scoffed as you sat down, it was such a Seonghwa thing to do. A barista even escorted you to your seat, it was slightly embarrassing. This was a cafe, for God’s sake, not a fine dining restaurant. You shook your head as you knew this was one of his games. He loved seeing you embarrass yourself, especially since he was the one embarrassing you because even in that aspect, he wanted control over you. 
God forbid someone else did it for you, however. They’d be dead by deadlight. You swallowed those thoughts away, they weren’t metaphorical at all. 
Seconds passed by, minutes ticked by, and almost an hour into arriving, Seonghwa still hadn’t shown himself. You gave the poor barista a nervous smile of your own, but inside, you were seething. You tentatively looked outside from the glass walls, you knew he was here. You could feel it. 
And yet, he was nowhere to be seen at the same time. You began to feel uncomfortable, tugging at your collar, playing with your nails, sighing every five minutes, the likes. But the worst part of it was that you knew he was enjoying this. He got off on your discomfort.
You wouldn’t be surprised if he was hiding in plain sight, his eyes never leaving yours as he savoured all the most miniscule of your expressions that told him exactly what you were thinking without him even opening his mouth to ask you. 
Just as you were about to stand up and leave, the door opened, a light trinkle resounding from the charm attached on top of it to signify someone’s entrance. He did this all the time - reel you back in when you’re about to pull away. You hated it, mostly because you let him treat you like this. 
Two men entered first, both of which you are very familiar with. They greeted you with a subtle nod of their head, avoiding eye contact, before choosing to sit in the farthest part of the quaint café. 
And there he was in all his majestic glory. His strides were sure, eyes trained on you like a hawk, pausing to tilt his head at you as if he was examining you, but you knew better - he was challenging you to move. 
That was how Park Seonghwa - he demanded attention. The way he would swallow the entire room with just his shadow, alone, never failed to stun you into silence. He was a siren’s song, beckoning anyone around him to look and listen with just one word from his mouth. Hell, most of the time, he didn’t even have to say anything. 
But the siren’s song was just that; a siren. A subtle smirk graces upon his lips, and the next thing you knew, he was making his way to you. You watched his hands pull the chair in front of you, those sinful hands once held you, bought you comfort as they caressed you. Now, all they did was strangle you into suffocating, squeezing your soul, stealing your essence drop by drop. 
“I don’t think meeting out here is wise, Mr. Park,” you said, cutting straight to the point. It was more so for yourself, the longer you stayed with him, the weaker your resolve gets. 
You refused to break eye contact with him, and perhaps, that was the worst part of all of this. He was still breathtaking. That face once made you kneel, and it still can. 
“Seonghwa, my love,” he corrected, tutting at you like he was endearingly scolding you. It made you sick. “You know my name, why won’t you say it?”
You bit your lip as you weighed your options down. There was always that choice to disobey him, it wasn’t difficult, but the mafia lord had never made anything easy for you. “I don’t think meeting out here is wise, Seonghwa.”
You watched as his bottom lip quivered, the way he attempted to hold his grin was nothing new to you. He loved it when you played his little games, he was more than pleased with it. Seonghwa raised his hand, snapping it to signal the nervous barista who was just waiting. 
“Nothing has ever been wiser,” he replied, staring the barista down as they shakily placed Seonghwa’s coffee in front of him as well as yours, except that you got a strawberry shortcake on the side, your favourite. 
You didn’t have any appetite, and he knew it, you never did every time you went out to meet him, yet he didn’t care. You mustered up the courage to ask him, anyway. “What is it that you want, Seonghwa?”
He watched you push your plate away with a small frown on his lips. “Why aren’t you wearing the ring I gave you?” Seonghwa questioned, ignoring yours. 
“Why should I? I’m not yours,” you took a deep breath, whispering your next words. “Not anymore, at least.”
“Nonsense,” he brushed off, pausing to take a sip from his cup before looking you dead in the eye. “You were always mine. You just don’t want to accept it.”
Indeed, he was a siren. He never stopped until the words he sang rang true even though you both knew it wasn’t the case. Seonghwa was once your siren, and now you regret ever being enthralled by his songs.
“I want to see you wearing it the next time we go out,” he declared, referring to the ring. He paused, a thought crossing his mind. “Do you not like it, though? Is that why? Would you like me to get another one?”
You tried not to flinch when he held your hand, lifting it to give it a small kiss. It burned, yet you couldn’t pull away. “Such delicate fingers,” he chuckled. “No jewelry can compare to its beauty, my dove.”
“Seonghwa,” you sighed tiredly, pulling away. His words still affect you, it was hard not to let them get to you, but it has to stop.
“It’s fine,” he interjected. He poked his tongue on his inner cheek, displeased at how averse you were to his touch.  “No spherical metal will bind you to me. We both know you’re mine, anyway.”
You sighed once more, this time, with a tremble. “There will be no next time,” you mumbled, clearing your throat from the nerves clogging it. “I came here to tell you that I-I can’t do this anymore with you, we have to stop meeting so we could both move on…”
It was the most difficult thing you had to say, minus when you told him you were leaving him, but you had to for your own sake. He didn’t say anything, his face had no emotion, except for his twitching left eye. You gulped, that was not a good sign. He did not like that at all. 
No words were said for a while. You almost broke down and took it back, but no, it was better to end this now than suffer the consequences later, because you might not end up leaving him at all. 
“It’s funny,” he began, voice leveled and calm. They were too calm. “Most people give out everything and anything just to have a five minute conversation with me.”
He took another sip of coffee, his long tongue darting out from his mouth slowly swiping his upper teeth as he looked on. “But you,” he continued. “You push me away when I make a point to crawl down to you unlike the others who have to climb up to me. You are a tough nut to crack, Y/N.”
You gripped the table in front of you, your knuckles pale and white. Anger rolled off of him like waves and for a second, you were terrified that he was going to explode on the spot. The way he uttered your name was a threat in itself.  He sets the cup down without a sound, letting out a small chuckle. 
“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Seonghwa asked softly, all traces of anger gone from his tone. “Here, dove.”
You shut your eyes tight. His change in attitude scared you out of anything he has ever done, and Seonghwa was a violent man. Not towards you, never towards you, but he was a destructive person to be with. He was a psychopath. 
“I-I don’t want to eat, I’m good,” you squeaked, shaking your head when he took a piece of the cake and tried to push the fork into your mouth to feed you. 
“Come on, doveling, eat this. It’s very yummy,” he gently coaxed, pushing the fork slightly until it was touching your lips. “Say ah, baby, I’ll feed you,” he smiled.
It was a sweet gesture, and if the situation was different, you would’ve cooed at how cute Seonghwa looked. In your peripheral vision, even his bodyguards looked appalled at their mafia lord’s gesture. Seonghwa ruled everything, he owned this city, and everybody licked the soles of his shoes and worshiped the ground he walked on. 
But here he was, feeding you with cake. 
You turned your head again like a petulant child, refusing to eat anything that came from his hands. “I really don’t want to.”
He frowned. You watched as his hand started to shake, but you knew it wasn’t because he was tired of holding the fork up. “One bite? I know you’ll like it.”
“No, please—-“
“Open your fucking mouth.”
There it was. The way he demanded was anything but, his eyes were half-lidded with malice, the monotonous tone in which he spoke terrifying you more than if he raised his voice or grabbed your hair to force the cake down on your throat. His despondent stare penetrated through you, combusting your insides on the spot with how fiery it was. He was angry, you made him angry. Seonghwa cannot be angry. 
You gulped, parting your lips slightly. It was all it took for him to forcefully part them with the fork and roughly shoved the cake in your mouth. You choked when the tip of the fork almost hit the back of your throat, coughing a bit before you decided to swallow. Tears collected on the sides of your eyes, but you forced yourself to smile and nod at him. 
“You’re right,” you coughed again. “I-It’s yummy.”
His arm retracted, his eyes not once leaving your trembling form. “One more,” he ordered, tone clipped. It had a veil of threat looming over the words as they left his tongue.
You flinched when he cut another piece, the clank of the fork when it hit the plate, echoing in your head. It was reminiscent of what you hear in your head before  Seonghwa’s patience snapped. He was a time-bomb; you never knew what made him tick, but you knew that he was destined to explode somehow. 
He grabbed a napkin then wiped the sides of your lips. “You should be more careful, dove,” he chided, voice lowered, clouded with sinister intent. “Wouldn’t want you messy now, would we?”
You quickly shook your head in response. “That’s a good girl,” he smiled, his words kind and gentle as if nothing had happened, but you knew better. He lies through his teeth. 
If you didn’t love him, it would have been fine. 
The sigh that escaped his deceitful lips was long and slow as if his brain needed to process what just happened. The screeching sound of his chair hit your ears, and he was sitting beside you before you knew it. 
“I sincerely apologize, doveling,” he whispered, his voice breaking and cracking halfway. He lifted a hand to touch you, only for the same hand to fall back down neatly on his lap. “I-I just missed you a lot.”
You felt your heart split in half inside your chest, you didn’t want him anymore, but it didn’t mean you liked seeing him like this. However, deep in your gut, you knew that something was inherently wrong. You just didn’t know what. 
“Think about what I said, please,” you appealed, scooting your behind away from him to create a gap between the two of you.  For a split second, his lip twitches.
He looks up at you, hurt coating his entire features. “I implore you to think about it. I don’t want to completely lose you,” he pleaded. He jutted his lips out, doing everything he can for you to look at him with pity. 
You were weak. You were a weak, weak person. Seonghwa pulled you to him, enveloping his arms all over your form as your chin laid on top of his shoulder to hug him back. To your left, was the glass panel that separated the cafe from the outside. It reflected both you and Seonghwa’s embrace. 
The hug looked serene, intimate, to the unassuming eye. Your heart dropped to your feet as you watched Seonghwa’s expression morph from loving, apologetic, and sincere, to something that can only be described as demonic and corrupted. His eyes grew wide with madness, rolling at the back of his head as he tried not to crush in his arms then and there, his lips stretched towards his ears like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Are you going to force me to forgive you?” You asked,  tears falling from your eyes before you could stop them. “Are you going to take me?”
He smirked, still looking forward, not knowing that you could see his expressions. “No, well, I could,” he whispered, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from cackling out loud at your stupidity. “But I won’t.”
You were a fool to believe that he would actually be sincere for once. This was his true colour. “You know me well enough where you know what my answer would be, and it’s no.”
It was terrifying how his expressions could change in the blink of an eye. His eyes slowly lost that mirth and instead dropped into the most dangerous glare, “So it seems,” he monotoned, grinding his teeth. “I won’t take you for myself by force, not until you want me to.”
Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. 
You need to get out of here. “And what if I never want you to? Tell me,” you breathed out. 
Your heart leapt out of your chest when his eyes met yours through the reflection of the glass, the grin on his face expanding malevolently. He pulled away, making a point to demean you further by tapping your cheek. 
“And so my manipulation tactics begin,” he smirked, his sharp jawline finding rest above his slender fingers. “Though I don’t think I have to make much effort, you seem to be doing most of the work for me, dove.”
It was true, he got you there. You didn’t have to show up, you didn’t have to answer to his every beck and call, and you didn’t have to stay and wait for him when he humiliated you earlier, but you were still here. Seonghwa wasn’t pointing a gun to your head. 
Not yet, at least. 
“You’re mine,” Seonghwa murmured. “The sooner you accept that, the sooner you’d feel better.”
“But for now,” he stood up, all the grace and elegance in his body oozing out of him. He moved so regal, you had no idea why he even liked you. He offers his hand out. “You should go home. I reckon this meeting took a toll on you.”
You refused his hand and he scoffed, and just like that, he left. Completely alone to your thoughts now, you couldn’t help but breathe out the air you didn’t realize you were holding.
It was that tense, things with Seonghwa were always very intense. He always invoked emotions out of you that you always kept buried inside you, yet you always came back for more. Again, the fault wasn’t fully his own.
You were the one who left him, yet you couldn’t fully leave him. 
As usual, that night was spent with you just thinking about all the things that could’ve been with him. In the end, you weren’t strong enough to tell him that enough was enough with all these games you played with each other. 
He resented you, you knew as much. Seonghwa was a very, very vindictive person - he wasn’t the type to ever let go once crossed. You just never thought that the day would come when all that resentment was directed towards you because he was playing with you, that you knew as much.
It took another two weeks before he contacted you again, and this time, he called you directly. You stared at the number on your phone. You had deleted his number, but that was pretty pointless because you memorized it by heart, anyway. “Hello?”
“Hello, love,” you could hear the smirk in his cocky tone. “Care to have another coffee with me?”
The automatic response you had in your head was, of course, no. Seonghwa was an asshole; he was manipulative, and he was arguably the most toxic person you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, but goddamn, does your heart always pull you towards him even when you try very hard to guard it. “I don’t know,” you told him truthfully in the end even though his voice broke down your walls bit by bit. “I told you that we have to stop doing this, aren’t you sick of it?”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “You’re right,” he mumbled, surprising you with how genuinely amiable he sounded. “Coffee is overrated. Let’s go to dinner, instead. How about that Italian place downtown?”
You didn’t have high expectations, in fact, you had zero expectations, but you weren’t expecting that at all. “S-Seonghwa,” you sputtered. “T-That’s not what I mean.” “I know,” he chuckled. If you didn’t know him, it would sound like he was genuinely amused by this, but no. It already had a dark undertone to it. “So how about it, love dove? That or we hit the bar next to it, instead. Pick your poison because I’m not asking for your permission.”
It was your turn to stay silent. The last place you wanted to go to was the Italian restaurant. Why?
Because it was where you met Seonghwa - the end of your beginning and the beginning of your end.
“Let’s just do coffee, then. Just like you originally wanted,” you murmured in submission, but he was not pleased with your response.
“That ship has sailed when you couldn’t make up your damn mind,” he said. “The bar, then—”
“N-No! I mean, no, please,” you denied, a bit more defensive than what you would’ve liked to sound. “Dinner, Seonghwa, please, I’ll go to dinner with you…”
“Splendid, I’ll pick you up in an hour,” he agreed. “Why are you avoiding the bar?”
“Because we know where that leads,” you lamented, your voice almost desperate and pleading. “I’ll see you.”
You sighed, hanging up the phone and not bothering to hear what he had to say. You were pretty much terrified of going to the bar with Seonghwa, because then he’ll get you a drink, and that would always lead you in his arms.
The hour was a blur. A year prior, it was your favourite part of the day - getting ready and dolled up for the love of your life, but now, you just wanted to get everything over with. 
You’d also be excited for the car ride, but now, it was just so awkward to be in the car with Seonghwa. Neither of you talked, nor were you interested to spark up a conversation to begin with. The only time you did was when he asked you to hold onto him as you made your way inside the restaurant.
It was impossibly lavish, as expected of Seonghwa’s finer taste in life. It wasn’t for the regular everyday people since everywhere you looked dripped in money, both clean and dirty. However, all this elegance felt oppressive to you
Seonghwa sat across you, his presence filling the entire space. You cowered at his stare, focusing on the food that was being laid out in front of you. His stare never left you even when the waiter asked if their services were still needed. You could feel your hands gripping the stem of the complimentary champagne flute.
Suddenly, he started to laugh softly. You tilted your head to look at him curiously. “You’re very stubborn, dove,” he shook his head. “It would be endearing if I didn’t want to strangle it out of you sometimes.”
Against your better judgment, you took a huge swig out of the champagne, letting the sweetness of it coat your throat. Lord knows you needed a lot of them if you were about to spend time with Seonghwa. “Unluckily for you, I’m not looking for you to change my mind. I’m happy being independent right now.”
It wasn’t the entire truth. You wanted nothing but to lay in his arms like you used to and let him whisper all the sweet nothings in your ear. You grabbed the wine bottle from the ice bucket that was placed near you and poured a hefty amount on its respective wine glass.
In your peripheral vision, it wasn’t hard to see Seonghwa’s irritation - he wasn’t used to being met with resistance  - but even he raised a brow at how much red wine you were planning to drink. He smirked, looks like he didn’t need the bar, after all.
But his smirk dropped when he realized that you had already finished a whole glass and you were on your way to another one. “Alright, that’s enough,” he snatched the glass from you, drinking the whole thing in one go. “I’m not a good person, but don’t insult me like this. I have standards, I don’t want you face-planting on the floor.”
You blinked, the alcohol in your system already hitting you head-on in a possible collision that will be difficult to recover. You couldn’t look away from Seonghwa, and for once, maybe you just wanted to let go and be happy. “Do you want to know why I don’t want to go to a bar, specifically?”
He looked at you expectantly. “It was pointless since I got this,” you giggled, holding up the wine bottle, which was already halfway empty. The glasses were massive, and you were lightweight. “Because we’ll have a drink together, and then you’ll say you want me and that you’re sorry,” you hiccupped. “I know it’ll be a lie.” 
He stood up, rendering you speechless. Whether it was from all the stress culminating inside you or his audacity, you didn’t know. He offered a hand to you. “Come,” Seonghwa softly commanded. 
You finally looked up at him, confused. “W-Where?”
“Home, you silly goose,” he chuckled. He raised a brow when it still didn’t click. “I’m taking you home, little dove.”
Alarm bells started to ring in your head. You were about to shake your head when he stopped you. “I meant your…apartment,” he spat the word with such venom. “I do not approve of it since we have our old house, but I’ll play along for now. Come along before I change my mind.”
It was how you found yourself back in Seonghwa’s car, the food long forgotten, your mind buzzing. You sighed, staring out through the window, just gazing upon the passing distance. A scoff was tickling behind your throat, this was one of those instances where you actually had no choice. Whatever Seonghwa says, goes. 
However, contrary to what he was thinking, you weren’t necessarily afraid of him just snatching you up and forcing you to be with him, not today at least, but you were concerned about something else - something else entirely intimate.
When he insisted that he walk you up to your door, you couldn’t refute it. How could you when he was already walking at the apartment entrance ahead of you as if he knew where he was going?
Little did you know that he actually did. You blanched when he situated himself in front of your door. “Seonghwa,” you gulped, your hands shaking as you tried to open the door. “H-How did you know it was this door?”
When you left him, you tried everything you could to erase his track. It was almost impossible since the mafia owns the entire region, and you couldn’t go far since you had no money. You knew that he knew where you lived but you at least thought that you were safe since you thought you had the upper hand. You cursed under your breath, you shouldn’t have put his obsession with you past him. 
He snatched the keys from your hands, taking the liberty to unlock the door, himself, but when he was about to push it so he could walk in, you quickly held on to his arm tightly. 
“It’s late,” you reasoned out, heart pounding in your chest. This. This was what you were afraid of. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
He rolled his eyes, taking the keys out from the keyhole and tossing them to you. “Is this the way you treat your guests, love?” Seonghwa scoffed, crossing his arms. He sneered. “I thought I taught you better than that.”
You fisted your hands so tightly, your nails left deep indents on your palms. “You made me entertain thieves and murderers,” you gritted your teeth, not relishing in the memory of the many times Seonghwa would make you sit on his lap while he planned his operations in front of the other mafia leaders. 
“Hoshposh, little one, I would’ve shot anybody who looked at you wrong straight to the head,” he said. “Seriously, though, I’m quite thirsty.”
He pulled on his sleeves slightly and set his eyes on the luxurious watch that was wrapped on his wrist. “A glass of water would be great, then I’ll be on my way.”
You frowned, hesitation rolling off of you in waves. Of course, you didn’t want to let Seonghwa in your apartment, but you weren’t exactly heartless. You bit your lip, the sting of it snapping you out of the lies swirling in your own head. Heartlessness had nothing to do with it. 
You looked up at Seonghwa, heat pooling in your lower tummy, regret churning above it. You opened the door wide, resigning to your desires, leaving the remorse for tomorrow. 
Seonghwa smirked, closing the door behind him before pulling you by the arm, his lips smashing against yours in a heated fervor. Kissing him back wasn’t lost on you, this was what he was truly thirsty for, after all - you. 
And the worst of it all, you’d let him drink on no matter how much your head told you ‘no’. Seonghwa wasn’t someone who you could deny, because you can’t. 
The point was to meet him for coffee, his usual excuse, and only for coffee, but alas, nowhere else is safe because every place always led back to him.
A low, breathy moan escapes your throat as he lifts you up in the air, quickly wrapping your legs around his torso. His lips found salvation on your neck and jawline, planting sweet kisses on your skin that set them on fire with every touch. 
“I missed you,” he groaned against your chest as he laid you down on your bed and loomed on top of you, trapping you in between his arms. “God, I fucking missed you, dove…”
Of all the things he’s said tonight, you knew this to be the one where he wasn’t telling lies. You couldn’t even complain when he tore your top to shreds in his impatience to have it off, your bra stood no chance either. A wanton moan slips out of you when he grabs the small dagger that he always kept and cuts it off from the middle, the cool metal tip sending shivers all over your skin. 
“S-Seonghwa,” you mewled when his lips wrapped themselves on your puckered nipples, his tongue swirling all over it, leaving trails of spit that you always found incredibly erotic. 
He wasted no time taking the rest of his clothes off along with yours until there was no barrier left between the two of you and the hot surface of Seonghwa’s skin seared in contact with yours. You wanted this more than anything, and it was why you were terrified of letting him in. 
“How do you want it?” Seonghwa placed a tender kiss on the area below your ear, tickling you, making your cunt clamp down on his invading fingers as he massaged that sweet spot inside you. “How do you want me to fuck you?”
It was when you looked up at him that had your mind completely reeling. No, you never really doubted that he loved you, but sometimes, love simply wasn’t enough. 
And in Seonghwa’s case, he was offering a little too much. And too much of anything never did anybody favours.
When you raised your hand to cup his face, he didn’t hesitate to close his eyes and kiss your palm. There were no words that needed to be said. 
That night, as you were curled up on Seonghwa’s naked chest when things were said and done, it was the first time you wished that things were different. You wished you were strong enough to stop loving this man, but that was impossible because you knew he would never stop chasing you until all that were left of him were bones and ashes. 
And when you woke the next day to a completely empty bed, tears cascading down towards your pillows as you stared at the empty space. You could still feel the ghost of his lips on your forehead, the reluctance to leave clear in the gesture. But he had to, you’d kick him out, anyway.
However, it wasn’t out of a broken heart - it was relief. Pure, unadulterated relief that he was gone.
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Leaving Seonghwa a couple of months before you moved back to your current place was simply the hardest thing you had to do. It wasn’t a decision that you mustered up out of thin air, it was days - months - of decision-making that either broke your heart or killed you.
You carefully adjusted your dress, shimmying your hips to make sure you weren’t exposed. You slipped among the crowd, squeezing your body in between the drunken state of the people on the dance floor as you made a beeline straight to the bar.
Clubbing became a part of your routine. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism to remind you that before Seonghwa, you were your own person. A drink or two later, your hands were in the air, your inhibitions lowering at the quick shot of adrenaline the alcohol provided you.
But it could only do so much. You sat at the corner of the club, just staring into the crowd. Melancholy seeped in your heart, it was pathetic that you had to go to places like these to get that cheap thrill of forgetting Seonghwa for a moment, only for his face to haunt you the moment you stepped out.
You swallowed the nostalgia that threatened to embrace you. When you closed your eyes, you could still picture the moment when you met Seonghwa for the first time. It was last year, you were so naive back then.
Or maybe not. He was just good at hiding his true colours.
A heavy sigh left your lips, your head nodding in resignation at the realization that your date had just ditched you.
Embarrassment clawed in your chest as you curled in on yourself at your seat, your fingers fiddling with the straps of the dress you’d carefully picked out for tonight uncomfortably. It was a waste since you had nobody to show up for it.
“You shouldn’t waste your tears on this beautiful night, pretty dove.”
Surprise covers your features. You hadn’t realized that you were crying. You feel somebody from behind you, probably another patron of the restaurant. You were even more embarrassed that someone has seen you get emotional.
“T-Thank you, kind Sir,” you politely accepted the handkerchief he offered you, dabbing your tears with it. “I’m afraid I soiled what’s yours…”
You were caught off guard when you glanced at its owner. He was hauntingly beautiful. His features were so forward and defined, and yet, there was a type of softness to it that reminded you of a gentle lamb.
”Do not fret, I have more where that came from,” he chuckled. 
“Ah,” you trailed off. “I will replace it for you soon.”
He smiled, his face transforming into something even more breathtaking. A blush creeps onto your cheeks.
”Might I be presumptuous to ask for something else in return? I don’t need it back,” he pointed to the kerchief. 
You blinked, waiting for his response. He gestured to the empty chair in front of you. “I’d like to accompany you for tonight, if that’s alright,” he said.
Your brows shot up in surprise. You supposed that the universe hasn’t completely abandoned you. You nodded, gesturing towards the chair. You had absolutely nothing to lose. 
“O-Of course. I’d be honoured,” you cleared your throat, gazing at him expectantly as he helped himself. “I’m Y/N.”
He gracefully extends his hand to capture yours, a subtle smirk plastered on his face. “Park Seonghwa.”
He was the best thing that ever happened to you. Seonghwa took you to multiple dates after that, taking you to places he said you deserved to be taken to, experiencing things you’ve never done before, and just spending time with him in general.
The next thing you knew, you were falling in love with him, and you were falling hard and fast. Luckily for you, Seonghwa was, too.
You bit your lips, remembering the way his glimmering eyes that reminded you of a baby doe as he stared at you with all the love he could muster in those beautiful eyes. The Seonghwa you knew was kind and gentle, he could never hurt a fly.
”Excuse me?” 
The bartender you got your drinks from earlier interrupts your thoughts. They had a tray with a single drink. It was a daiquiri. You frowned, shaking your head towards them. “I haven’t ordered anything.”
They proceeded to shake their head at you, instead. “It’s from that guy over there,” they pointed at a table a couple of metres away from you. 
As they placed the cocktail right in front of you, you took the liberty of inspecting the man that had the audacity to assume that you were lonely. A year back, you would’ve been flattered, but this reminded you of the way Seonghwa approached you for the first time in that restaurant.
Your sweet, sweet boy. Or so you thought. 
“Can you please return it? I’m not interested,” you pushed the drink back, much to the bartender’s chagrin and hesitation.
Your heart felt like a knife was being stabbed into it. You couldn’t go through this again.
Something changed along with your relationship. Seonghwa was the most patient man you knew. He was the type to cook breakfast in bed for you, tuck you in and give you a goodnight kiss for absolutely no reason. Seonghwa would hold you in his arms, cuddling with you for hours, just laughing along with your corny jokes even though they weren’t funny.
”Whenever you’re sad, just look at the stars for me,” Seonghwa would say. He would give your forehead a tender kiss as he would whisper. “You are my forever star, Y/N. I want the stars to be a witness to our eternal love.”
The club started to feel suffocating for you. Standing up, your wobbling legs took you to the restroom. You didn’t even spare a second glance on the daiquiri that you had purposefully left behind.
Luckily, the restroom was empty. You splashed cold water on your face, hoping it would wake you up and knock some sense into you. This was a mistake, you thought, your hands gripping the marbled sink. You were a mess.
Your feelings for Seonghwa were a mess. He started to change slowly. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but you knew him. He started getting angry fast, he had random bouts of periods where he would disappear, he’d come home with bruises on his face. He would cover it with makeup, but they’d still peek through.
When he told you he was in the mafia was a breaking point for you. You immediately left him after because you didn’t want to involve yourself in that lifestyle.
”My love, please,” Seonghwa begged at that time, tears falling from his beautiful eyes as he held your arm back weakly from leaving the house with your luggages. “P-Please, don’t go, I-I don’t think I can live without you, please.”
You couldn’t believe it back then, that your sweet Seonghwa was pleading for you to keep your love alive while his heart shattered with the weight of your decision in his chest. It pained you to see the love of your life losing it like this, but you had no choice. You wanted a normal life, you wanted to live your life safely, and Seonghwa being in the mafia can’t provide that for you.
It pained you to remember how Seonghwa desperately kneeled on the floor, crawling forward on his knees, broken, his eyes wild with fear. “Y/N, I am begging you,” Seonghwa’s voice cracked back then, struggling to breathe as tears spilled down his face. “I need you, dove, I can’t go on without you…”
His chest heaved with sobs he couldn’t control. “Don’t leave me, please. I don’t care what I have to do, dove, I-I can’t lose you, y-you’re everything to me. Please, don’t go.”
Sometimes, love just wasn’t worth it. You swallowed the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes, and you powered through, turning your back on him for the last time as his fiance, pulling on your luggages to leave him for good. It was difficult to ignore the guttural cries that left his lips as he screamed his lungs out for you to come back to him, but you had to go.
The little coffee breaks he’d ask of you were your little reprieve. Call it a guilty conscience for breaking his heart.  
But the truth was, you still loved him just the same, if not more. God, you still loved him.
Something had changed, though. During the months you were apart, he became maddened - more unhinged, to say the least. He scared you most of the time, it strengthened your cause of leaving because it was a side of him you’ve never seen before. He wasn’t the person you loved, not anymore. 
Your Seonghwa was mellow and gentle. Whoever this maniac was, this psycho, you didn’t know who. 
The bathroom doors opened with a bang, the rickety wooden structure hitting the walls that shook the entire expanse from where you stood. Danger signals spiked fear in you, instead of the usual women who belonged in the restroom, two wannabe thugs entered and set their eyes on you. 
One of them gave you a gnarly grin. You squinted your eyes, you knew of them. Disgust curls on your lips at the sight of the two men who were at the table who sent you the overly sweet cocktail you indifferently left at the table. 
“You shouldn’t be here,” you said, trying to level the situation out. Them barging in meant no good. And there was no one to save you. What is it with men and their inability to accept rejection?
“Who the hell do you think you are?” One of them growled audaciously, spit flying out from his filthy mouth emphasized by the dingy lighting the restroom provided. He marches towards you, pushing your arms rather roughly. You reckon it will bruise.
“Now, now, there’s no need for this,” the other one gestured for his companion to tone it down, leering as he raked his eyes from your head to your toes. His slimy tongue licks his dry lips as he slowly approaches you, or rather, stalks you like a predator.
The moment he grabs your shoulders, your instincts snapped you out. With a scream, you swiftly ran across the room towards the door, but not before giving one of them a good kick in the groin. 
“You fucking bitch! Ow, fuck, wait until I get my hands on you—”
Your heart pounded heavily against your ribcage, pure adrenaline fueling you as more vile words could be heard from the distance the more you walked away. You had no care for the sweaty bodies that you had to go through, all you knew was that you had to run, and you had to run fast.
This was the only time you cursed at how small the club was. You had no idea how far you were walking away from the bathroom, but the blinding lights, the deafening music, they were starting to get to you. You were terrified that they had managed to follow you. You didn’t dare look back.
You had to get out of here. Luckily, you were near the back door where you could exit and get away, so that’s exactly what you did. You couldn’t even regret forgetting your jacket the moment you got out and was embraced in the bitter cold of the night.
“Once again, I don’t have to do anything. You keep running into me.”
A startled scream escapes your mouth, the loudness of your own voice scaring you. Panic surged through your bloodstream. You looked around, and there was darkness everywhere, but no matter how blinded you were, you will always find that voice. 
Seonghwa was enveloped in the quiet corner of the cobblestoned alleyway. His back was leaning against the wall, his hand in his pants pocket while the other held a cigarette in between his nimble fingers. The only thing illuminating him was the faint glow of its lighted tip, its smoke swirling in the air mixed with the cold exhale of his breath.
Your breath caught into your throat. The horrifying clarity of running straight towards another danger was harrowing. Being alone with Seonghwa was far, far more dangerous than anything, however, you’d rather be in his mercy than those thugs inside. 
“You just couldn’t wait to see me again, don’t you, doveling?” Seonghwa mocked, his voice almost low, and frankly, delicious to your ears.
But you weren’t in the mood for his games. “Go fuck yourself,” you hissed, gritting your teeth in annoyance.
“I’d rather fuck you,” he grinned.
His pants tightened as he stared at you clad in the tiniest dress known to mankind, his cock jumping out at a certain memory of you underneath him just the prior week before he left your sleeping form. 
He could take you where you stood, right here, right now. And he would. However, when he noticed the way your hands trembled as you wrapped a protective arm all over yourself, his inhibitions died down. His brow rose when your form shook at the sudden boom of a voice from the door where you exited.
Paleness rendered you frozen. You could hear the same voice from the bathroom shouting, the sound of their voice growing closer and closer as they searched for you. Your eyes fleeted to Seonghwa once more.
He was already staring at you, his sharp, calculating eyes boring into you in realization. He poked his tongue on his inner cheeks, dropping the cigarette on the dirty floor, crushing it underneath his feet. You smiled to yourself ruefully, he was definitely different from the Seonghwa in your memory.
This was his true nature. Your sweet Seonghwa was a fraud.
The door busted open, and the same guy that held your shoulders looked around like an angry bull until he set his eyes on you. At that moment, you knew that Seonghwa understood what was happening. He stayed unmoving, unbreathing in his dark corner as the guy marched towards you.
“You,” the guy seethed, shoving you hard on the same shoulder. “You think you’re hot shit, bitch?”
You gasped when he spit at your feet, his saliva coating your slightly exposed feet due to your shoes. You inhaled, exhaled, repeating the gesture to reel in the anger you were feeling. You subtly waved your hand in Seonghwa’s direction, telling him to back the hell off and let you handle this, yourself.
“I’ll pay you for the drink, if that’s what you’re mad about,” you murmured, trying to sidestep him, but he swayed to the same direction, blocking your way. “Move,” you gritted your teeth.
He gripped your arm tight, his fingers digging into your skin in an alarming pressure where you were sure it would leave bruises. “No, no, you’re coming with me,” he pulled on your arm, causing you to lose your footing a bit.
“N-No, let go of me,” you pulled once more, forcefully this time, but his grip was loosening. Tension gripped your chest, the feeling of being cornered filling your mind with fear.
“Just come with me, you’ll have a good time,” he laughed lasciviously, his arm moving to grip your waist, until it freezes in the air.
You didn’t know whether you should feel alarmed or cry in relief when you watched Seonghwa appear from behind your captor. “Not so fast,” he said. You gulped when you saw him pull something familiar, using it to point at the man who held your arm at the back of his head.
The sound of a pistol cocking was louder than it should’ve been at the empty alleway. Your eyes widened in surprise and fear. This wasn’t supposed to be shocking to you anymore, but the sight of Seonghwa easily pulling a gun towards someone’s head never failed to instill terror in you.
“Back off, bastard,” the man snarled, though it didn’t have a real bite to it. “I saw her first, you can use this bitch when I’m done with her.”
Seonghwa hummed, leaning forward to the man’s ear, his tone dripping with unveiled threat. “Or I could plant a bullet in your head first. That sounds better to me.”
The man let out a nervous laugh, his grip on you tightening further, making you whine in slight pain. “You wouldn’t dare,” he laughed sarcastically, pushing his luck. “Not in a public place.”
Seonghwa’s eyes never left your shaking form. Your captor’s lips curled in dissatisfaction at Seonghwa’s lack of response. The thick silence in the air, yet your eyes never left Seonghwa as well. 
“What else did he do to you, love?” Seonghwa’s soft voice asked after a while, though his eyes held another thing - rage.
He pushes the gun on the man’s scalp, the latter groaning in pain in response to the rough action. “Look, man. I didn’t know she was taken,” the guy defended himself. “W-We can talk about this—”
“Did he hurt you before this?” Seonghwa gave you a pointed look, impatience coating his features.
“Seonghwa, please,” you responded, voice weary and exhausted. “Let’s just—”
“Answer the question, Y/N. Did he, or did he not?”
You gulped. You hated when he used your name. “Just let him go, please, I want to go home,” you begged. You felt filthy being touched, but you didn’t want blood in your hands.
But it was too late, Seonghwa hated his properties getting defiled. He shoots the guy point blank, his eyes still never leaving yours. Shock electrifies your system, unwilling you to move even when your face splatters with blood. The grip on your arms disappears as the man’s body crumples to the ground with a sickening thud.
Seonghwa tutted, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment and disgust at the body laying down in front of him. “Pathetic fool,” he sneered, spitting violently at the corpse’s face, his foot connecting to the now-dead man’s face. “Pathetic fool.”
Another gunshot resounds in the air, and then another, and then another one, until the clicking of Seonghwa’s trigger signifies that he was out of bullets. “Well, fuck,” he murmured before his maniacal laughter fills the night. There was something primal about it, something animalistic.
You turned away, at the risk of throwing up all over the concrete floor, afraid to look at the man’s, mangled, bullet-riddled face. Your vision started to blur, like your surroundings were spinning, as your breathing became laboured and shallow. You tried to back away to try and lean on something, but your legs felt weak.
“A ‘thank you’ would be nice, little dove,” Seonghwa scoffed, side-eyeing you as he put his phone up his ear. “Get in here. I need someone to scrub the floor.”
You knew exactly what that meant. Someone was coming to get rid of Seonghwa’s crime. Your stomach churns with nausea, until you can't take it anymore. You turn around, emptying your stomach of its contents, the regurgitating, gagging sounds from your hoarse throat sickening, the smell of your own vomit making you even more sick.
The more you tried to breathe in calmly, the more out of control you felt. It was as if your body was deliberately going against you. Seonghwa never hid his brutality, but this was the first time you had witnessed it first hand.
You gasped when you were pinned against the nearby wall, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, but still making a point to look at Seonghwa. “Shut the hell up,” he hissed, wildly looking around. “We’re going to get caught if you don’t toughen up.”
You sneered, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re delusional, you monster—”
Something cold and unforgiving wrapped itself around your throat. You gasped, your hands coming up for defense to pry Seonghwa’s hand away from your neck, but all he did was squeeze, effectively cutting your air supply off. “S-Seonghwa…”
A low, throaty laugh reaches your ears before he lets go. Your body automatically lunges forward, the suffocating weight on your neck finally lifting for you to gulp in a large amount of air. Yes, Seonghwa thought, this was what he wanted. He was the only one who had rights to your pain, not some slimy bastard.
“Why do you always have to misbehave, dove?” Seonghwa grabs your face gently in his hands, leaning in to plant a firm kiss on your forehead. “It would do you a favour if you shut your trap.”
“I–I’m well-behaved, actually,” you choked out, your fingers digging on his arms for support. “You always get what you want, anyway. What was the point?”
It was the truth, and you weren’t wrong. Whether that was by determination, force, or sheer luck, Seonghwa always got what he wanted.
Footsteps began to approach, the heavy thud of boots echoing through the night. Panic seizes you at first, but when you are approached by familiar faces. Seonghwa curses under his breath, pulling you close to him to cover your scantily clad body from prying eyes.
Not that he needed to do it, anyone who looked at you wrongly would have faced his wrath, anyway.
“Clean that rubbish up,” Seonghwa ordered gruffly, pointing his gun at the corpse he further abused after taking its life. “Leave traces of it, and you’re next. Where’s the car?”
Before anyone could respond, he threw said gun in the air for someone to catch. “Dispose of this, Yunho, and dispose of it well,” he wrapped a possessive arm around you, gesturing to the tall man who stared at you in pity. “We’re leaving.”
“Boss, hold on,” another person, one that you knew to be Jongho from his voice, alone, stopped Seonghwa from walking. He raised an irritated brow in expectation. “Wouldn’t it be smarter to pin this on someone else, instead?”
You knew of Seonghwa’s brothers, the people who he led and followed him for his wisdom and criminally intelligent guise, and you liked them. Jongho drove you back to your apartment that day when you left Seonghwa, causing him to be severely punished when he came back, and Yunho provided you a crying shoulder, but sometimes, you forgot that they were just as depraved as their boss.
Seonghwa laughed, baring his teeth maliciously. “Brilliant. On with it, then.”
The car was thick with unspoken tension, at least for you, anyway. Seonghwa was as relaxed as ever as he sat with you at the back of the car; his legs were crossed gracefully, and he even held a champagne flute for him to drink as if he was celebrating a job well done.
“Are you going to get rid of me too?” You asked, filling in the awkward silence. One more second of silence and you were going to lose your mind.
“I should,” he answered. Your body twitched with the unexpected response. “Which is why you should be more thankful. Nobody gets out of Halazia alive, not without my consent.”
Halazia was their base where all the operations ensued. You wanted to scoff, were you supposed to be grateful that you weren’t killed in your sleep after you broke up with him? 
“The only thing I should thank you for is absolute nothing,” you replied, your voice inhospitable and unwelcoming.
You turned away, trying to ignore him and cut the conversation, but you gasped when he grabbed your arm harshly, hissing in pain when he coincidentally dug his fingers on the spot where you were pushed by the other man in the bathroom.
“Where the hell did you get this?” Seonghwa barked, glaring at the swollen area of your arm. If it wasn’t a bruise from him, then you’re not supposed to have it. Only he can give you those.
“Get your hands off of me,” you snarled, pulling your arm away to rub on the hurting spot. You avoided eye contact with him, not willing to divulge more information. One man was already dead, you didn’t want another one in your hands. You haven’t even properly internalized what happened, it was too soon.
“I just had a nasty fall and hit something while I was running away from that creep, it’s no big deal.”
His stiffened, his eyes narrowed with unbridled, towering hostility. Seonghwa made no point to reply, but you could feel his temper rolling off in waves from where you sat. You decided not to push it. Technically, he lets you get away with a lot of things. You gulped, remembering how he callously shot someone in the head just by messing with you.
And that was fine, until you realized you weren’t getting driven to the place where you thought you’d be. You picture the familiar buildings that lead to your apartment, the roads that you walked to and fro everyday. You dare not breathe as you slowly approach the belly of the beast.
Seonghwa’s house, your old house with him.
“W-What are we doing here? Seonghwa,” you panicked, gripping the leather seats underneath your palms. “Why are you taking me here—”
“Relax, dove, it’s only for one night,” he scoffed. 
The car lurched to a stop, the brakes screeching with no warning, and a cold gust of air hit your face when Seonghwa opened his own door to get out, but not without turning his head in your direction. “Unless you want to stay with me,” he grinned maliciously.
You angrily stepped out, having no choice but to comply just for a night. Your heels clacked against the wet concrete, not even caring that you splashed into a small puddle, as you marched towards the house without even waiting for Seonghwa. You hesitated for a little, nostalgia was a dangerous thing to feel. 
The last time you were in this house, Seonghwa was kneeling by the doorway, pleading for you to stay and not leave him, begging that he’ll change. Your chest felt hollow with misplaced intentions, but you decided to ignore it for now.
All you knew right now was that you need to wash off all the blood that marred your face; to wash off all the indirect sins that you knew you had no hand in, but still felt guilty about. When you went to the guest room’s bathroom, your heart dropped when you saw that nothing had changed. 
The water felt invigorating against your skin, but peace never came to you. That man, you were the reason why he was dead. You might as well have pulled the trigger on him. As your mind raced with frantic thoughts, you heard a soft knock on the bathroom door, and then the telltale jingle of the doorknob.
“Don’t even think about it,” you snapped, still covering your naked body with your hands even though you knew he wouldn’t be able to get in.
You heard Seonghwa’s dark chuckle on the other side of the door. “I’ll be back immediately, I have business to attend to. Hongjoong is here to address your needs, shall you need something.”
You murmured in agreement just to get rid of him. You would take this opportunity to slip away and go back to your apartment. You just hoped that Seonghwa wouldn’t be one step ahead of you like he always was. He could do whatever he wanted, you didn’t care.
At least that’s what you told yourself when you dressed up using your clothes that Seonghwa didn’t bother to throw away. A scoff leaves your lips, was he really hoping that you’d come back to him? Still, you couldn’t help but wonder what it is that he was doing this late in the night. Back then, you disliked when Seonghwa worked late as it worried you to no end.
“Y/N? May I come in?”
The family butler, Hongjoong, stood at the far end of the room. You greeted him with a warm smile, genuinely happy to see somebody that you knew wasn’t going to take advantage of your presence. He carried a small cup with him with what you assumed was tea. “Hey, Joong, long time no see.”
“Likewise, Y/N. The mansion wasn’t ever the same without you,” he smiled. He paused, hesitation coating his features as he set the cup down in front of you. “I wish you never came back, though.”
You sighed. It might sound harsh, but you knew he meant well. He saw how suffocating Seonghwa was as a fiance. “You can thank your boss for this fiasco. Ask him later, but I’m leaving right now.”
“I still value my life, thank you,” he chuckled, shaking his head. He bowed slightly before he started to walk away. “Call me when you need anything.”
You cursed mentally, swiping your hair up in frustration as you stared at the steaming cup of goodness. You wanted to leave before Seonghwa came back, but if you were being honest with yourself, you felt beat up. Your arms had started to bruise in some areas while you showered, patches of unsightly purples and greens spread all across your skin.
It wasn’t a good idea, and you were setting yourself up for failure, but you decided to drink the tea quickly and then vanish. You sighed, sitting down on the leather sofa, grabbing the remote control to the TV to raise the volume as it was already on, anyway. Seonghwa had a habit of leaving them on even when he’s not around so he’d have easy access to the news whenever he needed it.
Relaxation seeped into you as you took a good sip. Earl Grey, you realized. It made you smile a bit, it was your favourite. Seonghwa bought an entire land just to plant the trees that made them all for you one time. The memory suddenly made the tea taste bitter.
Suddenly, the distinct voice of the newscaster on the television made you freeze mid-sip. “For our breaking news,” they began. “A man was found brutally beaten north of downtown a quarter before midnight. It said that they passed away shortly after their sustained injuries.”
That in itself wouldn’t have been too bad, but when they showed the man’s face pre-crime, the cup wavered in your hand, drops of the tea spilling from the sides. It was the man that pushed you in the bathroom, the one that gave you the nasty bruise on your arm. 
The more the reporter recounted the injuries, the more your grip on the cup tightened. You struggled to process the words, but more so how grizzly the attack was - missing teeth, broken jaw and ribs, face beyond recognition and repair. The words began to blur as you sat staring at the screen, frozen in your place.
 A small chuckle sounded from the doorway, breaking you out of your thoughts. It was followed by a tut, the mocking kind. You closed your eyes to calm your nerves, you knew your chances of leaving were slim to none at this point. Even at a distance, his presence was so overwhelming and suffocating.
“What a shame. Such a handsome fellow.”
You didn’t turn right away, not wanting to give Seonghwa the satisfaction of seeing you falter. If he looked closer, he would’ve noticed how badly your hands shook. ”Yes, it is,” you said flatly, setting the cup down before you shattered it towards the floor. “What did you do?”
You were afraid of the answer, terrified, even. “Whatever do you mean, my love?” Seonghwa replied from where he stood. You could practically hear the smirk from his voice. He was so sure of himself and a bit too close for comfort. “I would never associate myself with the likes of that man.”
That much was true. As lethal as he was, he held an air of grandeur to him that always starstruck you. He could have been royalty in his past life. Everyone was beneath him. 
“Oh?” You worded out, your tone more aggressive than you’d like. “What did you think happened, then?”
Your gaze flickered towards the door, and you wished you didn’t. He leaned on the door frame, arms folded, posture as relaxed as ever. “He must have had a pretty bad fall,” he shrugged nonchalantly. He said it so smoothly, so calmly, that it sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s no big deal.”
You didn’t know what it was. Something passed through his eyes, but it was gone in an instant before you could read it. The way he stood by and stared wasn’t imposing either, but there was something about the way he parroted your words in the car earlier, the way he knew that you knew, that made Seonghwa truly the terrifying man that he was.
You looked at him in disgust. “You’re a psychopath.”
“I prefer creative,” he started walking towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. He stops directly in front of you, his torso in your line of vision. His index finger tilts your chin up until your eyes are meeting his.
For a while, he didn’t say anything, the rest of his fingers brushing your skin tenderly in a way that should’ve calmed you down, but all it did was terrorize you. His gaze was calm, yet it unsettled you to your bones. “My, my, little dove, you are quite ungrateful,” he remarked softly, almost soothingly. “I don’t like ungrateful people.”
He gripped your chin firmly, not enough for it to hurt, but enough for him to make his point. “I don’t know what you want from me,” you cut the undeniable tension in the air.
“It’s not what I want from you,” his thumb pressing lightly over your skin. “It’s what you need from me.”
You frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Watch your tone,” his eyes narrowed as he dug his sharp nails on your chin. You had to suppress a groan until he calmed down. He sighed, his thumb carressing the area he hurt. “Did you honestly think I enjoyed you seeing me like this after hiding it for so long when you were with me?”
The question hung in the air, what were you supposed to say to that? His eyes darkened. “I do everything for you, dove. Can’t you see that everything I do is for your enjoyment and glory?”
This man was delusional. His hands lowered down to your neck, his fingers not squeezing, but the command was there. “I could kill anyone for you without blinking. I’m the only one who will do this for you, because I’m the only one who knows what you truly want,” he took a deep breath. 
His voice became gentler, but that served to scare you even more. The words coming out of his mouth weren’t normal. “You think someone would care for you like I do?” Seonghwa asked affectionately. “You owe me, Y/N. Ask me why.”
“W-Why?” You asked, your words cracking halfway.
“Because,” he answered, eerily calm than it should be. “You’re the only one I care enough to hurt about.” Seonghwa kneels down, his hand unwrapping itself from your neck to hold your thighs. “I’m different now, I won’t let you down, baby.”
Your breath hitched, wanting to pull away, to scream, but the fear had you frozen in place. "I know how you are, Park Seonghwa,” you gulped. “You can't fool me."
"Once. I made that mistake once,” the mask had slipped and the true chaos inside him, referring to when he had hidden things from you. “And I already paid that price, little dove. You left me. Won't you spare me a bit of your love? I learned my lesson."
"You haven't learned your lesson. It's impossible. We are what we are," you stood your ground regardless of what Seonghwa would do to you.
He smirked. "You know I love you," Seonghwa said. "I could wait for you for as long as you need me to."
You frowned, your eyes widening slightly in horror. The confession wasn't something you haven't heard before, but it terrified you just the same. "You shouldn't. I don't love you like that," you rasped weakly. "We've talked about this before."
Seonghwa tilted his head, his face not giving out what his thoughts truly were. You had no idea how utterly smitten he was with you; how depraved he truly was. But the truth was, you could see it on his face. Instead of the rejection stunting his attempts, it made him want you more.
"How long are you going to pretend you don't want me, little dove?" Seonghwa held your hand. He planted a slow kiss, his dark eyes looking up at you as he did so. "How long are you going to deny me?"
It wasn’t difficult to see how his words, no matter how sweet or manipulative they were, hinted at his unstable mindset. “Anyway, I digress,” he pulled away, “Stay the night. You’ve been through a lot today.”
Anger is an indulgence, and it’s something you weren’t willing to feel at the moment. You weren’t angry at him, no - you were angry at yourself. You should have just left earlier.
“I have to go,” you whispered so softly it was almost unheard in the wide expanse of the room. “You weren’t even supposed to bring me here.” Your tone was accusatory. Clearly, you’ve had plenty of blunders today.
“Hmm,” he hummed. “Has it never crossed your mind that all the things you’ve been doing lately have all led you to me?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, but he continued. “Think about it,” he shrugged. “The odds of you stumbling upon me, through the backdoor, nonetheless, on a bar that we had just purchased the same night is astounding.”
You grit your teeth, not having any idea that he owned the property. Had you known, you wouldn’t even have bothered at all.
You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to scream at him and fight him until you were out of this suffocating house. He tilted his head in response. “You’re not a prisoner, dove,” he declared with disturbing softness. “You are free to leave anytime, but you have to behave and you have to trust me.”
“I don’t trust you,” you bit back, baring your teeth at him like an animal. “I never will.”
Something flashed in his eyes - something inhuman. He chuckled, as if he was expecting your answer all along. “Not yet,” his eyes, once again, glimmered with something foreboding. “But you will, if you know what’s good for you.”
You flipped him off, jumping off of the sofa to tread towards the door to leave, ready to shove him out of the way should Seonghwa resist, if need be. You were done playing his games, you were done being his plaything.
Seonghwa laughed, low and manic, as he watched your petite form stalk towards your goal like a cat who has set his eyes on its prize. Your jerked back, heart pounding in your throat, when he grabbed your wrist to halt you from moving forward. 
His eyes were predatory, and you were pretty sure that he could smell your fear. “Behave, Y/N. It’s quite late, and I’m looking forward to retiring to my bed,” he smirked. He leaned closer to your ear to whisper. “Or are you looking forward to finding out how I’ll punish you if you misbehave?”
You grit your teeth, the audacity of this man! You fists clenched to your sides, the ache of rage and frustration bubbling inside you.
“No need to be afraid,” he whispered, leaning in close. “I told you, you’ll learn to trust me. I always get what I want.”
He lets go of your wrist to walk away, but not before he turns his head to side-you. “And I want you.”
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A day or two was fine, to be fair, you really did need to rest and recuperate all the energy you had lost from all the adrenaline-fueled chase in the nightclub.
But you’ve been in Seonghwa’s territory, Halazia, for almost a week now. True to his words, you really weren’t being treated as a prisoner. Hongjoong did his best to accommodate all your needs, but it didn’t erase the fact that you were just a glorified captive that he dressed in silk and bound by the chains of his obsession.
Seonghwa always had an excuse, his latest one being that he wanted to see you out since he knew you weren’t going to show your face to him for a while. Well, that was three days ago. It pissed you off to no end, you weren’t completely stupid - it was his way of manipulating you to stay.
All you did was stay in the guest room. Seonghwa has tried to coax you once or twice, but you always ignored him, and you weren’t ready to see the people you used to know that you had gotten close with before you left.
Fine, you thought. If he wasn’t going to let you leave, you were just going to get out, yourself, without anybody knowing. You had no idea how you’ll do it, Halazia was well-guarded, but damn, if you didn’t try. You had to escape.
You carefully opened the door that led out to the currently empty hallway, looking left and right to see if Seonghwa assigned somebody to watch you. There wasn’t any, but you didn’t trust what you see - it was what you didn’t see that you didn’t trust.
The only good thing about this house was that it had a lot of secret entrances and exits just in case Seonghwa needed to escape if the operation got compromised. You had memorized them just in case you needed to escape from Seonghwa, ironically, like right now. 
The nearest one to you was locked, of course. You cursed under your breath, quickly moving on to the next one. It was a gamble, unlike the other secret exits, this one was disguised as a small aesthetic dresser that Seonghwa had cleverly displayed at the end of the hallway. When opened, you would be greeted by random coats for diversion.
You silently moved them aside, revealing a hidden door knob behind them that led to the underground garage. Luckily, you were small enough to fit through without making the wooden structure of it creak. You were so close, and now, you had this one chance.
“Y/N?”
You reached for the door knob, but before your hands could wrap around it, your breath hitched, every muscle on your back stiffening. You rigidly turned your head, meeting Yunho’s widened eyes as they went back and forth between your face and where your hand was headed.
“Y-Yunho,” you pleaded, gulping on your nerves. You were thoroughly fucked. “Please…”
But before you could both react, low murmurs of voice started to echo down the hallway as well as thudding footsteps that signalled a couple of people just around the other hallway.
One of which was Seonghwa’s.
You couldn’t even lament. You knew this was going to happen. Every single time you found an opportunity to seek your way out, he would always come for you. He was always one step ahead, always waiting for you to screw up so he could whatever it is that he wanted.
Your breath got caught in your throat. Seonghwa’s presence loomed close like his footsteps, his voice muffled, yet smooth and cold, as he talked to whoever he was with. When his shadow was outlined at the end of the hallway, you knew you were done for.
And when you heard Hongjoong’s voice from the distance looking for you in panic, you knew you were found out.
Without thinking, you stepped in the dresser, closing the door before you slid in the corner behind all the thick coats. You swallowed, forcing yourself to still your breathing and manage your panic, but the truth was, you felt like you were going to faint. You stayed hidden, holding your breath and waited.
Footsteps approached until they directly stopped in front of the dresser. Your stomach twisted in fear, your breath coming fast and shallow. One wrong move, and all of this would be over.
“Yun,” Hongjoong’s panted tiredly. “Have you seen Y/N, by any chance?”
You inhaled a sharp breath. You had totally forgotten about Yunho. You said a quick prayer in your head, squeezing your body even tighter against the corner. Light passed in between the small crack of the door, allowing you to see Seonghwa along with two people you couldn’t really see finally joining Hongjoong and Yunho.
“No. I thought she was still in the guest room?” Yunho sounded thoroughly confused when he answered, his voice leaving no room for doubt as he covered for you. 
Relief washed over you. You would never forget this favour from Yunho as he stepped in for you without a second thought. Through the crack, you could see Seonghwa close his eyes to reel in his anger, his fingers massaging his temple in nuisance, staring at Yunho, who squirmed at the attention, intently.
“She couldn’t have gotten far. Find her,” he ordered in eerie stillness.
Seonghwa remained in the hallway directly in your line of vision through the small space in between the wooden doors. This time, you weren’t breathing at all, your mind racing. Why wasn’t he leaving?
“Y/N,” he sighed exasperatedly. “Oh, my little doveling.”
Your chest exploded, pain spreading through your lungs as your breath got knocked out of you. His possessive way of calling you out shook you. You couldn’t risk getting caught, so you didn’t say anything.
You flinched when the doors rattled with his touch, creaking slightly as he opened it ever so slightly. “I know you’re in here,” he chuckled, teasing and soft, and so mocking. “Did you honestly think you could hide from me?”
Your stomach churned when the doors opened violently, its hinges almost coming undone. You wanted to cry, but you forced yourself to be still. You were still hidden behind the thick, wool coats. You just hoped your heavy breathing didn’t give you away.
You watched as his dark eyes scanned the dresser and for a moment, he didn’t move, just standing there as if disbelieving that he wasn’t seeing you. He hummed, finally closing the doors. A chill sparked up your spine, it couldn’t be that easy—
It all happened within a split second. You screamed when the doors opened again, a hand grabbing you and dragging you out of the dresser to be forcibly pinned against it. Somehow, Seonghwa still knew you were in there as if he had always known from the start - as if he anticipated you hiding in it.
“You think me stupid, don’t you?” Seonghwa murmured with false pretense. “I own you. That also means I know how your mind functions.”
You fixed your stare on the floor, not daring to lift your head to look at him. He held the areas on your arm that were still bruised, they hurt, but you were wishing that you could just disappear on the spot. But there he was, standing before you as his hands pinned yours tightly against the wall. His stare was intense, his demeanor more so.
“Look at me,” he commanded. He wasn’t playing around this time, that much you could tell. 
You looked into his eyes with equal intent. A glint of surprise passes through them for a split second before it disappears and something akin to proudness appears on them. It was certainly twisted, especially because you just don’t understand just why he was so obsessed with you. Had you known it was going to be like this, you would never have left him the way you did.
In some ways, you felt like you were responsible for his unnecessary fixation towards you, and knowing Seonghwa, he was never going to stop until you were completely in his possession.
“You know what I think?” Seonghwa began, his voice tethering the line between amusement and controlled rage. “I think you think that you know me.”
One of your hands fell to your sides as he let go, only for him to grab you by the hair, bunching them up in his wrists tightly as he yanked your head backwards. Pain bloomed in your scalp, but Seonghwa didn’t care. It was this moment where you actually feared him,  the real depth of his madness were finally starting to come to head as his patience was slowly thinning.
“I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you all over. Tell me, doveling, what do you think I should do?” Seonghwa said. His movement became frenzied in the simmering rage that was surfacing on his face. “There is no point in escaping when the cage has no door.”
You groaned when he jerked your head forward, then pushed it backwards, the back of your head hitting the wall. “Maybe this ought to help you, maybe this will wake you up, because clearly, nothing I do is worth your time,” he sneered, savouring the pain that registered in your eyes. “I give you everything, I feed you, dress you, love you, and this is what you repay me?”
“Hiding isn’t going to do anything for you, because I will always find you,” he continued, his words slow, deliberate, and threatening. “You think you can outsmart me, that if you stayed holed up in your room I won’t notice that you’re missing. Get this in your head.”
He leaned forward, his entire body closing in on you, wrapping you in the same darkness that swallowed the sentient part of his soul a long time ago.  "I love when people think they’re smarter than me,” his lips curled into a sick grin. “It makes the chase so much worth it.”
Something in his words sobers you up immediately. With all the strength left in you, you twisted away completely from his hold, pushing him away with a scream. You breathe in and out, just watching Seonghwa’s unimpressed gait, his fists still up. They held chunks of your hair, but you didn’t care.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You need help, Seonghwa,” you yelled in frustration, lifting your hand to tap aggressively on your head. “You are sick in the head, you delusional fuck, y-you’re…”
You trailed off, your emotions getting the best of you as they clogged up your throat. It might be wrong to talk back to him like this since it will make your situation worse, but you knew Seonghwa was done playing with you. He was slipping deeper and deeper in his delusions and there was no telling how far he’d go just to keep you.
Your heart bled, the pain in your scalp and the back of your head pounding, begging for attention. He has never been physical with you just to get what he wanted, he has gone too far now.
“You want to leave, don’t you?” Seonghwa asked softly, uncharacteristically soft compared to the crazed look in his eyes. He stepped forward, and at first, you thought he was going to corner you again, but instead, he leaned his back on the wall beside you, his head tilted upwards to stare at the ceiling. He turned his head to meet your eyes. “But you won’t. I won’t allow it. Now that I have you, I am not letting you go. Not now, not ever.”
You scoffed, but in truth, the way he said it posed fear in you. “That is not up to you. You cannot just imprison me and expect me to like you after this.”
“Oh, but I can,” he chuckled. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
He started to scoot closer, so close that you can smell his cologne that was mixed with the delusions that came along with it. It unsettled you, the only time you got close to him after you left him was when he was spreading your legs to bury himself in you whenever he’d ask you to go out for either coffee or drinks.
“You’re mine,” he said, more forceful than before. “Come on, say it. Say you’re mine. The sooner you understand that, the sooner you’ll feel better about it.”
“No,” you denied strongly with a hint of desperation in it. “I’m not yours anymore, Seonghwa, please. I just want to go home, let me go.”
He didn’t seem to hear you, that or he chose not to. A light laugh bubbled from his chest, but it wasn’t joyous - it was empty, like he was trying to convince himself that he was right and you weren’t. The two of you must’ve looked odd in the hallways, just leaning against the wall. However, to you, it felt like the hallways were crushing in on you.
“That’s the problem isn’t it? You don’t understand,” he said almost sympathetically, like he was telling these deranged things to you for your own good. You felt like you were going to get sick, it sounded more like an omen than anything else.
He was right - you didn’t. You didn’t want to understand, he could rot in hell for all you care. “Why me?” You whispered, hoarse and broken. It was the only genuine thing you wanted to know.
“Because,” he began, his hand reaching for you. His touch was cold. “When people see me, they think I’m this monster, they don’t understand,” he shook his head. “But you? You are the only one who knows what I’m truly capable of, the only one strong enough to take me as is. The only one who knows that I am actually a monster.”
It wasn’t the entire truth. Seonghwa stared at the fear in your eyes at his statement, he wanted to tell you the truth - that as messed up as it is, he just really genuinely loved you. Nothing about this was normal, but he was never going to tell you because he knew that you were never going to believe him.
The gaping hole you carved out of his heart was still there even though you were right in front of him, he would have loved you forever, and you didn’t understand that.
But that’s fine. He’ll make you, one way or another.
Your throat tightened, and despite everything in you screaming to run, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. His smile softened, and he wiped it away with a tenderness that was almost cruel.
“Seonghwa, this isn’t what you’re making it out to be, you are really unwell,” you pleaded. You hesitated, having no choice but to say the one thing that’s been weighing on you. “You have to move on, we are not meant to be. If you really loved me, you’d let me find another man to love, a normal one—-”
“I love you,” Seonghwa interrupted, the words coming out almost too quickly, exploding with the anger he was trying to repress. He glared at your face with an intensity that was borderline obsessive. “Is that not enough for you? How dare you mention another man in my presence?”
“That’s not what I said, and you know it,” you gasped, thick with terror, trying to remedy the situation.
He forced you to look at him. “So say it,” he hissed. His face twisted into something terrifying than anything you’ve seen. It was hurt, as though your refusal was the worst kind of betrayal for him.  “Say you’re mine, because I will never leave you alone if you don’t.”
It was a threat, his certainty in it wrapping like noose around your neck, but the answer was still the same. “N-No,” you shook your head in defiance, more firmly this time. “I never will be.”
It was what set him off, the calmness he faked shattering before your very eyes. His hand shot out to bang his fists on the wall beside you. The sudden bout of violence made you gasp in surprise. “Fuck, you’re really testing me here,” he seethed, no longer soft, just harsh and detrimental. “God, I know you still love me, you don’t get to pretend when I know.”
He leaned closer, his face twisted with fury. He was dangerous, and you had no way out. “I’ve let you run free for a while now, my patience is waning down. I only stretched it for you and even then there’s not much I can provide you. I even let you go when you told me that bullshit about breaking up, enough is enough now,” he spat bitterly. “Come back to me.”
His words felt like a slap to your face.The sickening feeling of his warm breath against your skin felt overwhelming and your body was rendered paralyzed. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, not when his words echoed in your head like a broken soundtrack.
“I’m not letting you go, you hear me?” Seonghwa continued, not caring if it sounded torturous to your ears, and certainly not caring that he was basically admitting that he will completely hold you against your will. “You’re going to take what I give you, and you’re going to like it.”
But you weren’t broken yet. You stared at him blankly, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you break down no matter how furious he got. 
Seonghwa leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. "I’m doing this for you. For us. But if you push me too far, I’m not going down alone," his voice hardened, just a little, enough to remind you of what lay beneath the surface. "It’ll hurt you, too."
The veins on his neck bulged as he held himself back when he realized you weren’t going to say anything. He really was controlling his anger, but barely.
“You will learn how to love me again,” his words were clipped as he uttered them, jaw tight and just on the edge of breaking. The air between the two of you cracked with tense energy. “No one else will love you like I do. I can’t live without you, but I will make sure that you cannot live without me, either. I’m not asking anymore.”
You didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you, but you were about to. His hands flexed slowly, his fingers stretching as if the need to reel in his rage was physically painful. He snapped them, his eyes not once leaving yours. “Get her,” he deadpanned.
Footsteps began to approach from behind you. It was, then, when hands started to restrain your form, completely immobilizing you. Rapid thoughts spun in your head, the weight of their hands oppressive. You tried to pull away in an attempt to break free, but their grip was just too strong. You stared wildly at Seonghwa, eyes widened as you screamed on the inside.
“You can’t leave,” he muttered, his voice cold and detached, full with promise. “I will do everything in my power to find you, because I will. And when I do, I will make sure you never, ever leave me again.”
He turned around, his back facing you with finality, the true madness of his love setting in your bones. “Take her away and lock the doors.”
“N-No, wait, you can’t do this,” you clenched your jaw, resisting the arms that gripped tight on yours as they tried to drag you away. “Seonghwa! No, please, Park Seonghwa, let me go!”
But you were dragged, anyway, from your tormentor. There was a sharp tug in your arm, the force of it so strong that it made you stumble. They didn’t even wait until you got your balance back, resorting to dragging your limp body.
Each step forward felt like you were walking towards a nightmare you had no control over, and when you reached the guest room, you realized that you knew one of the people who was leading you to your personal hell. You were pushed forward, and before the door shut, possibly forever, you called out to them.
“Wait, Wooyoung, please, wait,” you begged, quickly dashing towards the door to hold it open. “I really need to talk to you, please…”
His eyes held hesitation, but probably after seeing how distressed you were, he closed his eyes and let out the heaviest sigh known to mankind. He turns his head on the other person that dragged you, the rougher one. “Get lost,” he ordered, his face contorted into something intimidating.
But when he closed the door to lean on it, his eyes were the softest you have ever seen. It held sympathy and understanding for your situation, but you weren’t a fool - you knew his loyalties would always lie with Seonghwa.
“The majority of us were betting on your escape, you know?” Wooyoung looked up as he leaned against the doorframe, his hands on his back. “Seonghwa and you were perfect for each other, but that came with a price.”
“Wooyoung,” you sighed.
“Let me finish since I can’t be seen here,” his eyes were hooded as he put a finger on his lips to indicate the decrease of his voice. “Keep it down.“
He pointed at the earpiece he wore, one that everyone wore since Halazia was massive.  His face turned rigid with worry before he turned back to you. “Seonghwa just sent Yunho to the brig for a week.”
You paled, your jaw hanging low in shock. The brig. It was basically a glorified underground cell where they kept whomever they pleased. You wanted to tear up, Yunho went to your defense at the risk of being punished, but as always, Seonghwa knew everything.
The fact that he sent one of his closest friends from his personal team said a lot.
“You’re not going to get far in escape, not like before,” his voice was low, almost soothing like he was trying to calm you down and not make you feel trapped. “You are never going to make it far.” Wooyoung’s eyes turned sadder even further. “I-I can’t do anything to help you, I’m sorry.” You wanted badly to escape, you know he could see it in your eyes, but there was nothing he could do. You swallowed all the emotions that threatened to break you on the surface. “I can’t stay here,” you tried to convince him. “I don’t belong here, Wooyoung.”
“You don’t want to mess with Seonghwa,” he shook his head with equal conviction. “He’s my liege, and I cannot forsake him. He’s the greatest, most notorious criminal known yet, however, I think you underestimate how far he’ll go just to keep you,” he paused, hesitating. “I would very much like you to stay alive, Y/N.”
 Shivers traveled from the base of your spine to the tips of your scalp. “I don’t know what to do,” you squeaked, the defeat weighing down your body. “I don’t want to be his prisoner, I-I can’t live like this…”
He formed his lips into a thin line, his eyes softening as he started to walk towards you in small, careful steps. “I’m not going to pretend it’s alright, because it’s not,” he sat beside you on the bed, his weight dipping on the mattress. He had always been a friend to you. “It takes someone strong to be with Seonghwa, let alone deny him. This is the man that got whatever he wanted no matter how immoral it got. This isn’t the way, Y/N.”
You shook your head frantically, grabbing his hand to squeeze it. “Belonging to him, relinquishing my soul to him, you might as well gag me at that point.”
He put his other hand on top of yours, enveloping it with a much needed warmth that comforted you even though his eyes held pity. “You don’t have to belong to him,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m asking you to stop fighting him.”
Your head snapped up to counteract his ridiculous claim, but he shook his head and continued. “Don’t you get it? There is no escaping him. He will find you even if you’re in the middle of God-knows-where,” he let out a sigh that seemed to carry a lot of burden in it. “I’m saying this for you, because there is no way out where he doesn’t hurt you.”
The finality of what’s been boggling your mind was crushing. You knew that there was no easy way out, but it still hurt to hear. “I’m not going to give up, even if it kills me,” you gritted your teeth, your determination setting fire in your guts.
“Y/N, please,” Wooyoung begged, squeezing your hand tighter. “For what is Yunho in the brig? For what did Jongho drive you away from here back then? And for what did I take Seonghwa’s punch when he realized I was distracting him? He’s not going to let you go, not now, especially not after everything.”
You shut your eyes tightly to reign in your oncoming migraine. “So, what? I’m just supposed to surrender and let him do anything to me? This isn’t love, it’s possession.”
“If you accept this,” he gulped with reluctance. “If you stop fighting, Seonghwa will go easy on you. It’s easier if you stop running.”
Wooyoung searched your eyes, hoping that he conveyed all the sincerity he could possibly offer you given the situation, but all you could see was the sadness and resignation - he didn’t believe in what he was saying, but he had no choice but to.
“Let it go, please,” he whispered, hoarse and defeated. “I’m not saying this for his sake, it’s for you. This will break you, Y/N.”
You shook your head once more. “I can’t give this up, I’m sorry. If I want the easy way out, I would stay here and just take it.”
His eyes sharpened, his brows furrowing into what resembled annoyance, but it still held the pity that Yunho had before you went inside the dresser. “I’m not asking you to give up,” he begged, anger and affection mixed into one. “I’m asking you to stop a battle you know you can’t win.”
You didn’t say anything after that, and his eyes dropped into accepting that you weren’t going to listen to anything he was saying. You’ve made up your mind. Heavy silence stretched between the two of you until, finally, Wooyoung got up to walk to the door. You can see him manually working on his well-crafted mask, but when he turned back to look at you, there was that softness underneath.
“You didn’t hear me say that three days from now, there will be a bust where Seonghwa has to be present, and you certainly didn’t hear from me that underneath your bed is a trapdoor that leads directly to the outdoor garden, one that Seonghwa doesn’t know,” he murmured. There were escape routes Seonghwa purposefully had no knowledge of in case he gets held as a hostage.
He opened the door to let himself out. “And I’m not telling you that Jongho will be waiting for you.”
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You couldn’t wait for Seonghwa to leave, it was killing you to wait this long. He hasn’t bothered you at all, presumably because he was very angry at you, but more so since he was planning with the rest of his team, Ateez, about the so-called bust that they will do away from Halazia. In the meantime, you tried the door again. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Wooyoung, but you didn’t want to risk it. It might either be a trap, or he might get in trouble and accompany Yunho in the brig if Seonghwa finds out.
You jumped away from the door, your heart skipping a beat, when the doorknob you were tinkering with suddenly twisted and turned. You backed yourself back on the bed as your door creaked open to reveal someone you weren’t pleased to see.
Mingi stood by the doorway, staring at you in amusement, his eyes flickering between you and the doorknob. You internally cursed, you knew you had been caught. He was most likely outside guarding the door when you tried it. “Just when I thought you couldn’t be stupid enough,” he smirked, mildly annoyed. “Why are you trying to run away again? You just never learn, do you?”
You weren’t expecting to see him, in fact, you were surprised that he was put on guard duty. That was probably why he was pissed. Frankly, Mingi terrified you. He was just one of those members that openly showed his dislike towards you. His presence constantly reminded you of your captivity.
“Don’t project yourself on me,” you scoffed, riling him up. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you nervous. “Seonghwa put you on babysit duty. You must hate that.”
He laughed. “I suppose I see the appeal of why Seonghwa has been obsessed with you,” he mockingly tilted his head. “Stop trying, you have zero chance of leaving. Not while I’m here.”
“I’m not your prisoner,” you shot back, clenching your fists to your side. “He can claim me all he wants or force me, but I’m never going to belong to him like a doll. And you are, too.”
His eyes twitched in annoyance, stalking towards you, his arms still crossed. He leaned forward, making you back up in apprehension. “That may be so,” he chuckled darkly. “But I’m not the one who is caged like a fucking bird right now.” "You think you can just run off like this?" Mingi continued, his voice low, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You really believe you have a chance?" 
Mingi leaned away with a satisfied smirk, his arrogance and cruel enjoyment of your struggle really coming through. He was trying to break your resolve with his words, trying to make you believe that escaping is futile, when in reality, it couldn’t be farther from the truth.
Your hands clenched to your sides, controlling your urge to sock Mingi directly in the face not because you were scared to hurt him, but because you were scared that he’ll hit back. “That’s not going to stop me from trying, you brute.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” he waved off, backing away towards the door again. “But the thing is,” he paused to taunt you. “You’re not as clever as you think you are. Even if you get past me, you’ll have to get past Yeosang after.”
You paled, your nerves setting your insides on fire. Yeosang wasn’t nearly as infuriating as Mingi, but he was equally as loyal and cruel.
You had to leave now.
“Anyway,” Mingi turned the doorknob to leave, but not without glancing back at you with a sneer. “I will admit, you have balls for leaving him the first time, but Seonghwa already made up his mind this time. He won’t let you go, so I suggest you accept that now.”
And then he left. You glanced at the spot where Wooyoung told you that there would be a door. Truth be told, you haven’t checked yet; you were terrified that Seonghwa was going to walk in any minute and decide to put you somewhere else. 
But there was no time to waste. You waited half an hour to make sure that Mingi wasn’t hanging around before you grabbed a blanket to slide under the feet of the bed to prevent any sounds before pushing it away enough for you to crawl underneath it with ease, and lo and behold. Your mouth felt dry as you stared at the handle of the trapdoor that could potentially lead you to your freedom.
You closed your eyes, praying that there truly was freedom on the other side, that Wooyoung would be safe, and that Yunho wouldn’t stay in the brig for too long. And after this, you will be gone forever.
Waiting until midnight would be the best option for you. Granted, it would also be the time where Seonghwa’s guards would be more alert, but it was a safer bet than somebody potentially walking in the room and chasing you down the trapdoor. Shivers crept up your spine at the thought of getting dragged back.
The silence was killing you, but your thoughts completely annihilated your sanity. You could just picture Seonghwa’s face etched with fury as he realized that you had, once more, escaped under his nose. But you also couldn’t help but think of the hurt that shone in his eyes. All he wanted was you, and you couldn’t fully fault his deranged mind, but you wanted to be free.
As you knelt to grasp the handle the moment that midnight striked, your breaths turned shallow and laboured. You gulped, willing the tremors from your fingertips to go away. You couldn’t falter, not now. With a jolt of adrenaline, you pulled it open, wincing as it creaked, which was a telltale sign of prolonged unuse. You just hoped no one heard it.
You released a breath you were holding when it revealed a ladder that led down, and that there was a dim light illuminating bits of the wooden ladder. That meant that you were nearer the exit than you thought you were.
A faint noise outside your door makes you freeze. You swiftly glanced at the direction, waiting for the moment that Seonghwa would burst in and see you holding a halfway opened trapdoor, but nothing. 
Without another thought, you quickly jumped into action, going down the ladder, your foot hitting the first step as your hand slowly closed the tradoor above you. The moment you did, there was slight relief that coated your chest, it was one step to freedom after all.
It wasn’t fully dark in the damp passageway, the concrete was still visible from where you were walking as that faint light from the exit shone on it as if it was guiding you to your freedom. 
When you were sure you were far from where you came from, you broke into a sprint, running literally for your life. Your legs screamed in protest, not used to exerting energy from the weeks that Seonghwa held you captive, but you didn’t stop. You were scared that he’ll catch and snatch you from behind.
But that didn’t happen. After what felt like an eternity, the passageway began to narrow until you hit a deadend with another ladder, only this time, it led above. Your desperation was hitting you at an all time high - you climbed the ladder without any hesitation, not even stopping to think if there was someone potentially dangerous waiting for you on the other side.
Before you were even fully out, hands were already pulling you out from your armpits until you hit a hard chest. When you looked up, a sigh of relief escaped from your chest. 
“Jongho,” you whispered, your voice cracking at the solace that his presence had brought you. Wooyoung had not been lying. 
Your heart pounded in your chest. It wasn’t like Seonghwa wasn’t going to find out, because he will, but you hoped that Wooyoung and Jongho will be able to buy themselves sometime before then.
“We have to hurry, there’s not much time left,” he hastily pulled you in a run, his voice strained with panic as he kept looking behind him. “There will be guards stationed here in less than five minutes, we have to get to the car by then.”
Your face paled, but you forced yourself to nod, anyway, working your muscles to pick the pace to match Jongho’s, but it was getting difficult. “Are you going to be okay?” You asked, panting hard.
Jongho’s hand held your arm as he practically pushed you forward, shaking his head. “I told San that I was going to check the other side of the property and station on it for a while. It should be enough for me to drive you to your place, but it will be tight.”
“We’re not going to make it,” you panicked, calculating everything in your head and visualizing the outcome.
His jaw set into a hard line and before you could say anything else, he stopped, shoved you behind him, and squatted down. “Hurry,” he barked a command. “Climb on my back, it’ll be faster.”
You hesitated, your nerves getting the best of you, and he could tell. “Climb! Hurry, please!” Jongho hissed, eyes widened in pure panic, as he flailed his arms to gesture for you. 
It was the best course of action. Whether it was the adrenaline or the sheer terror of the situation, Jongho had a burst of strength that allowed him to reach the car faster than it would’ve taken both of you had it not been for his fast thinking. He quickly opens the door to practically shove you inside it before slamming it close, and before you knew it, you were driving away.
The drive back to your apartment was tense. Jongho instructed you to pack as little as possible. Yunho had suggested that they take you to the motel that was on the enemy’s territory. It wasn’t foolproof, but it would lessen the odds of Seonghwa finding you faster before you could fully get away. Even Seonghwa didn’t mess with another mafia’s territory.
“I can’t check you in,” Jongho said as he parked in front of the said motel. “They will recognize me. Use cash from now on, Seonghwa will be able to trace your cards.”
You felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of gratitude and regret. Seonghwa will punish him when he goes back, you could see the small fear behind Jongho’s eyes. You bit your lips, leaning in on his space before pulling him into a tight embrace. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” you sniffled, tears pooling in your eyes. 
He pulled you away to stare at you. “I had a promise to you back then,” he said, softness in his eyes. You were the one who got Jongho a ‘job’ at Seonghwa’s manor after you found him homeless one day. He promised you his life then and there. You didn’t know he’d be a ruthless killer one day.
He held you by the shoulders, pushing you away slightly. “Now go, and please, do not let me see you again.”
With one more grateful nod, you walked away without looking back. Jongho sighed, he really hoped you made the most out of tonight. It was basically a suicide mission for him.
The drive back to the manor was the most tense he has ever felt. By now, he was sure that Seonghwa knew that you were gone by now, the only reason why he was still breathing was because he wouldn’t find out yet that he helped you do the impossible. Time was the enemy. 
And he was right. The moment he got out of the car, voices in his in-ear comms were calling everyone to Seonghwa’s office for an emergency meeting. Jongho took deep, calculated breaths, practicing the mask that he was taught before going in to face everybody as if nothing had happened. 
Wooyoung hastily approached him, grabbing his arm to lag behind everybody as he leaned his body towards him. “Success?” He asked tentatively as quietly as possible. Jongho raised a brow in confirmation, not wanting to move anything else for the fear of someone listening in.
The air in the office was thick, everyone piled in one by one in random spots. Personally for Jongho, he always preferred being near the exit, but he had to stick with Wooyoung this time.
Seonghwa was just standing in front of his desk, arms crossed as he watched everyone with his sharp eyes. That was the thing with him; he never needed to shout nor demand, he was just naturally intimidating. His presence was suffocating, his eyes eerily calm.
He’d be a fool if he said he wasn’t expecting this, like Seonghwa had said once, you were the only one strong enough to match his flame. He knew that there would be a time that you’d escape again, but he wasn’t expecting it to come sooner. 
“Someone messed up,” he said softly, too softly. He gazes at them one by one, none of them meeting his eye. “One of you fucked up.”
Jongho tentatively watched as everyone shifted with unease. Mingi and Yeosang shared a tense glance, but he resisted the urge to jump back when he saw that San was already staring at him with suspicion. He gulped, holding eye contact, anyway.
Hongjoong, ever the calm one, steps forward, the edge of his voice betraying his unease. “I’m sure she hasn’t gotten far—”
“Stop,” Seonghwa’s voice was even quieter this time, but it was the type of quiet that made everyone’s back stiffen. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he leaned away from the table to walk past everyone. His expression was unreadable, but Jongho didn’t want to guess what he was thinking.
For a while, he doesn’t say anything. The silence in the room screamed louder than any rage could, and for once, everyone wished he would just burst out. This calm, quiet fury was more petrifying. Seonghwa wasn’t angry - not yet. 
San looks away from Jongho, sensing the shift, and speaks up with Hongjoong. “We’ve already checked the perimeter…”
San faltered when Seonghwa cut him off with a single glance, shifting uncomfortably when his boss didn't even acknowledge him, lest you count the slow nodding of his head. It was the only indicator of his thoughts, minus the tight clenching of his fists on his chest. 
“Find her,” Seonghwa murmured, his words clipped and deliberate. “And find her quickly.”
Jongho felt Wooyoung shift forward. He wanted to stop him, but that would raise suspicion so he just bit his lip. “We might not be able to this time,” Wooyoung cleared his throat. “We might fail.”
“Your incompetence doesn’t constitute understanding on my end,” Seonghwa said, stepping in front of them so his back was turned towards everybody else. “So don’t fail me.”
Jongho’s heart dropped to his foot when Seonghwa passed him a fleeting glance, a small smirk painted on his lips before he turned back around again. Seonghwa knew, he fucking knew.
“Boss,” Mingi called out. “Don’t you think maybe this is a sign to not let Y/N back?”
The room suddenly turned cold, the silence of his statement almost deafening to everyone’s ears. Seonghwa raised a brow in challenge. “And why is that, my dear Mingi?”
“My loyalties lie with you, my liege,” Mingi spoke, his tone cautious since he knew he was treading on thin ice. “Y/N is a distraction to the operation.”
Everyone held their breath, the tension was undeniable. Seonghwa’s eyes narrow, his pupils dilating ever so slightly as his lips form into a tight, thin line. “I had no idea you’ve gone senile,” he said. “But I respect the audacity.”
In a split second, Seonghwa’s fist connects with Mingi’s guts. The taller groan in surprise, coughing in agony as he clutched his stomach in pain. “Now, now Mingi, you can’t just dish out something and not learn how to take it,” Seonghwa chuckled darkly, tapping the latter on his cheek mockingly.
“You said you respected it,” Mingi coughed out some more.
“I do, as a matter of fact, I do respect you a lot now. But I didn’t say I wouldn’t harm any of you.”
The threat hangs around the air, looming heavily upon them. ”We’ll find her,” Yeosang spoke for the first time, his tone full of promise.
They were used to this side of Seonghwa, but tonight, there was something slightly different about the rage that brewed in his eyes. His patience was what truly made him terrifying, this was true power; something you had never seen since Seonghwa made sure not to. 
“You better,” he simply said. “Or your loyalty won’t be enough to save any of you. One more word about Y/N, I will put the fear of God in all of you. Now, get out.”
No one wasted any time scurrying out the room as if it was on fire. The moment the door shuts behind them, Seonghwa’s calm shatters. 
His rage boils over, and with a single swipe of his hand, papers that were neatly placed on his desk all fall on the floor, shattering the nearby picture frame that held your face. The sound of crashing glass rings through his office.
Seonghwa bangs his hands on the desk, his breaths coming in rugged and raw. When he saw the broken picture frame, like a man possessed, he smashes it further with a solid step of his foot over and over again. The glass shatters completely, it rains down like the shards of his crumbling control. 
“You fucking,” he forcefully brings his fists down on the picture frame, not caring for the glass shards that punctured his skin. “Bitch.” 
“Fuck,” he hissed, the walls shaking as he kicked the nearby cabinet that contained some of his whiskey bottles. He doesn’t care as the slew of expensive bottles came crashing towards the floor. “Fuck!”
The sound of it made everybody freeze from outside the door. Wooyoung’s knuckles turned white behind his hands as he winced at the loud bang from inside the room. “Should we, uhm,” he started, not daring to finish his sentence.
Yeosang’s eyes widened. “We have to stop him before he—”
“No,” Hongjoong snapped sharply. “Are you crazy? You do not want to go in there.”
Another crash sounds, and Jongho’s jaw tightens. He was glad you weren’t here, because this was the worst Seonghwa has ever been with his rage. He watched MIngi’s eyes tick at the next serieses of growls and roars from Seonghwa.
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The stay at the motel was the most peaceful yet tense four days of your life. You couldn’t sleep properly at night, half expecting someone in the middle of the day to burst in and just drag you back to Halazia where Seonghwa would be waiting to imprison you again.
You couldn’t stay there anymore, and that’s why you were on your way to the bus station to finally get away. You already talked to one of your sisters, Jinhee, who called you in a panic the other morning when someone was apparently inconspicuously looking for you. You both decided to stay at your other sister’s place, but Jinah wasn’t answering when you tried to call.
The bus stop was quiet, something you appreciated for once given your hectic life track as of late. Your thoughts were a mess, but you were hopeful for peace the moment you got on the bus.
You tried to look for somewhere to sit while you waited, but the nearest one had somebody seated on it. He wore a dark hat that obscured his face, not that it mattered since the newspaper he held and read covered his entire face, anyway.
You hesitated, strange unease settling in the pit of your stomach. You shook it off, choosing to sit at the far corner of the bench to avoid interaction, convincing yourself that it was probably just the nerves making you paranoid.
“Chilly day,” the man started casually all of a sudden. His voice was rich in timbre, and it sounded familiar. “Autumn’s slowly catching up now, isn’t it?”
Your heart rate picked up a notch, taken aback by the unwarranted small talk. You glanced in his direction briefly, that dread spreading through your veins, and now that you thought about it, he sounded oddly familiar.
“Yeah,” you forced out a reply, not willing to engage, trying your best to calm down. After all this, you just couldn’t shake the bad feeling in your chest.
“Traveling far? I’d say it’s dangerous for a young lady like you,” he commented, adjusting himself to scoot closer to you.
Alarm bells went off your head as you felt your skin prickle with the attention. You wanted to say that it was none of his business, and now that you listened closer, he didn’t even sound that old, either. “Sure,” you said quickly. “Just want to get away from this city.”
“Good idea,” he chuckled, shuffling the newspaper and folding it away from his face. “I mean, if people were chasing me from hell under, I would run far, far away as well, but you see…”
Your breath was completely snuffed out of your lungs when the man took the hat off of his face, his head turning towards you with a slow, amused smile. “Like we all said, there was no point in running, Y/N,” San’s voice dropped into a whisper. “I like you, Y/N, I really do, but you are one stubborn girl. He does care for you, you know? It’s sick and obsessive, but he does. And now all he wants to do is hurt you.”
Your froze, your blood hardening into ice. The panic hit you like a tidal wave, where had you gone wrong? You made sure to do everything that Jongho told you to do, made sure that you left no traces of yourself, so how? You felt so stupid for not recognizing San so fast.
You shoved yourself up from the bench, but before you could take a step, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a vice-like grip. “Not so fast,” he murmured, his voice cold now, his earlier casualness gone.
You yanked your arm, but he only tightened his hold. “We’re going back,” he said, his tone final. “And you’re not getting away this time. Unless, you want all the people in here jeopardized,” he gestured his hand all over the station. “Look closer.”
Every instinct screaming at you to run, to fight, to do something, but when you looked around, something didn’t feel right, and then you saw them.
Shivers went up your spine as you recognized some of Seonghwa’s men blended into the crowd like normal people. They were planted, hidden in plain sight, like the briefest flash of the gun tucked in their pants that you knew by now how to spot. They were willing to endanger the people around you just to take you.
It was over. You had no choice but to follow San as he escorted you to the car, the door shutting with a sickening finality. This was the worst case scenario, you’d rather have Mingi because as much of a brute he was, you could predict his actions, with San, you never knew what he was thinking.
Angry tears of shame and sorrow began flowing from your eyes. You knew that this was it for you, your second chance had flown away. Seonghwa and his men had no mercy, and now you’re learning that the hard way.
San wasted no time dragging you out of the car towards your apartment, to your surprise,, but you no longer cared about him, it was Seonghwa that you feared - always had. You could feel it even before you saw him; Seonghwa’s constricting presence was always controlled but deadly.
You were shoved inside the familiar space of your living room, and you didn’t even have to look up to know that he was there, you could just feel him. His power, his rage, hung in the air like thick smoke.
Seonghwa was at the other side of the room, his gaze meeting yours, steady and unwavering. You swallowed your nerves, but there was no point. He just stared at you without any anger or frustration in his face, and perhaps, that was the worst part in all of this. You knew him well enough to see through his well-crafted mask.
You opened your mouth to say something - anything - but what would you say? There was no way you were going to apologize or make any excuses, but the silence was unbearable. Seonghwa wasn’t going to break it anytime soon, but he had no need to. His judging eyes were enough to make you weak in the knees.
He began to walk forward, the clacking of his shoes beneath his feet loud enough to make you wince, and when he reached you, he made no move to touch you like he always did. He did nothing.
Nothing, except hand you a lighter for you to take. “Light it up,” he spoke.
His words were quiet, but there was no mistaking that command in it. Your hands were shaking, having difficulty flicking the lighter open, and it certainly didn’t help that Seonghwa was staring you down. Though you currently hated him, you were careful not to burn his face as your hand neared the cigarette trapped between his lips.
“Open.”
He wasn’t asking, he was instructing. You froze at the implication and everything instinct in you screamed for you to run and resist, but you leaned in as he inhaled deeply before taking the stick out of his mouth and blowing the smoke into yours. The taste of it was raw and bitter, it curled into your lungs along with something else; something that sent a rush of heat towards your chest at the intimacy.
For a while, he didn’t say anything, and you wished that it remained that way even though you were scared that the control he held of himself was going to shatter. “You think you can walk away from me?” Seonghwa finally spoke again, his voice low, still calm, but it cut through the silence like a blade. “Open.”
It was difficult, but you managed not to cough your lungs out at the heavy puff of smoke that almost made you want to gag. But Seonghwa didn’t care. “Keep your trap open until I tell you to close them,” he ordered with a low snarl.
You did as told, the fear completely paralyzing you. His voice was still controlled, his rage was held so tightly within him that it was like the room was vibrating with the power of it. Tears pooled from the corners of your eyes as Seonghwa still blew, and finally, he threw the cigarette butt away somewhere in the middle of the destruction.
“That’s a good girl,” he chuckled darkly. You yelped when he held your jaw tightly in his hand. “Why can’t you be this obedient all the fucking time?”
His grip tightened, not with the frantic violence of someone losing control, but with the calm, methodical pressure of someone who knew exactly how far they could push before breaking someone completely. "Why can’t you behave, huh? Why?"
You faltered, absolutely not liking the way that sounded in your head. You crossed your arms, the fear you had for him completely fizzing out and dying in your chest. “Now, hold on just a second,” you seethed, all the stress of running away and getting caught chasing your filter away.
Seonghwa’s brow raised. It certainly made him curious, so he let you continue. “Seonghwa, you practically kidnapped me with the notion of letting me go afterwards, and when I try to get away from this hell, you drag me down with you. Did you honestly think that I'm a possession you can cling to?”
You were definitely digging your grave deeper and deeper the more you opened your mouth, but you couldn’t take it anymore. All the hurt, the anxiety, the waiting for when Seongha will finally snap was driving you to the wall. You didn’t know how to carry all of this burden alone.
You took a step forward in a burst of confidence, jutting your finger on his chest and prodding him with it like a child. “Enough is enough, Seonghwa,” you said, your voice low and firm. “We were through, we aren’t together anymore. I don’t belong to you, and I sure as hell don’t want to belong to you anymore.”
He clenched his fists, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. Seonghwa opened his mouth to argue like you knew he would, but you cut him off, your voice stronger than you’ve ever heard it before as you finally stood up to him and stood your ground. “I’ve had enough of you trying to cage me like an animal, you sick fuck. You don’t get to suffocate me with your obsession, you don’t get to decide how I fucking live, breath, and exist.”
Tears stung your eyes. They were a mixture of rage and betrayal. The weight of it all was finally breaking through. “You don’t get to guilt me for wanting to live my life, especially without you, why can’t you understand?”
For a moment, Seonghwa’s gaze softened, as if he was finally looking through you for the first time in a while in a different light. He tentatively raised a hand to hold onto you, and his intentions were pure this time as his hand hovered in the air,  but he flinched when you yanked your arm away sharply.
It was too late, you didn’t need that. There was guilt written all over his face, had he really gone too far this time?
“You were never really here for me,” you continued, shaking your head bitterly.
You were done. Done being scared of him, done of losing yourself because of him. Done loving him. “You want to keep a convoluted version of me that you formed in your head, that one that would just stay and follow your every whim, but that’s not who I am, Seonghwa.”
He stood frozen in his spot, his chest caving in as guilt made its way to his heart. He had never intended to fully hurt you, to make you feel that way you did, and for that, he was sorry to a certain extent. Seonghwa’s hand trembled, his palms slick with sweat as angry tears flew down your pretty face. He almost felt bad for you.
Almost.
“The thing I regret the most is you, Seonghwa,” you whispered firmly, but thick with emotion. “I regret ever meeting you and what happened after, but most of all, I regret not leaving you sooner.”
His eyes dropped, the weight of your words crushing his form. “Don’t say that,” he muttered, his voice shaky. His shoulders were slumped, a far cry from his angry and straight they were when you arrived. “I just,” he paused, closing his eyes to take a deep breath. “As fucked up as this is, I do love you, I still do.”
Your breath hitched at your words. “No, Seonghwa. You don’t know what love is, and even if you do, you love me a bit too much that you’re not allowing me to leave a little for myself because you want it all.”
“But, don’t say that you regret everything,” he said exasperatedly. “I loved you with all that I have, I will continue that until I cease to exist. Remember when we went on that trip where you told me you finally loved me, too? Or when we both would stay up all night to watch the stars while we talked about our future?”
He held your hands, almost desperately, as his words  just spilled out from him without thinking. “Those were real, that was us, and you might not believe me, but I swear on Ateez those were all true. You can’t deny them.”
It was true that you and Seonghwa had good moments where you wanted them to last forever, but they felt distant, like a fleeting dream that never happened. “I don’t regret our moments,” you pulled your hands away. “I regret that you twisted them into something dark.”
You wanted to deny what he said to make him feel a fraction of all the hardships he had brought upon you, but you couldn’t. Just like his actions, you could never take back your words. I did the right thing, you thought, your heart aching as you stared at the lone tear that fell from Seonghwa’s eye. 
He wasn’t the only one. You weren’t ready to let go either, but this was a start. It was a truth you weren’t going to admit to his face. You were in love with Park Seonghwa, and you couldn’t breathe because you always will be, but love wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. Love can never be designed.
Seonghwa stiffened, his mind reeling with all the things you’ve finally let out for him to hear. I regret everything. It echoed like a broken record in his head, and yet, a part of him couldn’t let go. He shook his head, trying to reel in his thoughts before they no longer became his, trying to pull in the beast that was threatening to break free from his mind.
But your words reverberated in his skull, the pressure building on it from the suffocating guilt that covered his head. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore, but it was too late.The realization was like a punch to his gut, and he had no one to blame but himself.
You watched him fight his demons, slight fear coming back into your chest, but you waited to see what he’s going to do. 
Seonghwa’s breathing became ragged and laboured as he tried to massage his temples into coherency. Why didn’t he just let you the first time? No, he was doing what he thought was right, because his all-consuming love needed you so much. His mind grew darker and before he could lash out, he walked away from you and turned around.
For a long moment, silence filled the room. You watched Seonghwa try and compose himself, his hands shaking repeatedly while his head shook back and forth. It was like Seonghwa was actively trying to cast out and fight the demons that tried to possess his soul before it could completely take over him.
But when he turned around, the look in his eyes told you that it was too late. Seonghwa knew it was too late, he had done too much, the only way to move was forward.
“I want to kill you,” he softly admitted. “To finally stop your ghost from haunting me. But I can’t live without you.”
The confession left a painful tightness in your throat, but you remained strong and steadfast. You weren’t even angry anymore, you were just tired of him walking over you. “You’ve gone mad,” you stated. “Scaring me isn’t the way to go about this.”
“It is better to be feared than loved, if I cannot have both,” he replied rhetorically, digging into the waist of his pants to pull out a pistol. He stood there, not lifting it yet, but the way he gripped the cold metal of the gun had you trembling in your spot.
You didn’t move - you couldn’t move. Seonghwa’s guilt mixed with his anger, twisting his mind into something else. He never lost control like this, but he had also never felt his heart break into a million pieces like this.
The gun shook in his hand, the barrel still aimed at the floor. It was wrong and he knew it, but you were his everything, and now, not only were you walking away from him, but you were completely disintegrating in his head into nothing but somebody that he used to know. 
“Seonghwa,” you whispered, barely audible from the demons that screamed in your own head. “Don’t make me leave like this, please, put the gun down.”
He didn’t move, didn’t say anything. It was worse than you thought, his mind was far more gone than you thought possible. You continued, swallowing your nerves down, more than ready to plead for your life. “Please, Seonghwa. I’m no one, just L/N Y/N, a 27-year old nobody,” your voice cracked.
Your legs finally gave out and you chose to sit on the floor. You looked up at him, putting your hands up like some sort of Hail Mary. “I was a nobody you stumbled upon in that restaurant, I was born in a dinky little town you had no idea existed. My parents are both teachers, and I have two sisters. Please Seonghwa, I haven’t done anything at all in this life, I haven’t lived, I’ve barely just begun, please, I haven’t finished anything at all.”
You sniffled, trying to keep your tears at bay. “D-Don’t kill me,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to die.”
Seonghwa contemplates. You practically watched the gears in Seonghwa’s head turn, his mind racing in a frantic spiral. You were surprised when he gave you the gun, grabbing your hand ro wrap it around the handle, kneeling down to your level on the floor, and pointed the barrel at himself, the tip pressing on his forehead.
“If you shoot me, what will you leave behind?” Seonghwa asked.
Your heart twisted violently at the odd question. It was more cruel than pointing the gun at you, because you knew that your answer would be dependent on whether you will live or not.
“A world without you,” you answered without hesitation.
You couldn't take Seonghwa's unnecessary obsession with you anymore. Seonghwa stared at you, his brows furrowing as he internalized the answer that you gave him.
"Go ahead and shoot, dove," Seonghwa said. "It's the only way you'll ever be free of me."
You stood frozen in your spot, the gun feeling cold in your hands. You've dreamt of this for so long, about completely ridding yourself of Seonghwa so you could get back the freedom he had stolen from you a long time ago. He looked vulnerable and open, while you were given a chance to make that dream come true.
And yet, you couldn't do it.
And Seonghwa knew you couldn't do it. He smirked. You screamed, a pitiful attempt at it, as he dismantled you and grabbed the gun back, only this time, it was pointing at you, instead. "You could have pulled the trigger and painted the walls with my brain," he taunted, cocking the safety lever. "Let's play a game of Russian Roulette."
"What's that going to accomplish?"
"If you give me a minute, I could change your mind," he shrugged. "But if you give me a bullet, I could change your life."
Seonghwa points a gun at your face, point blank, the nozzle pressing down your forehead. "What say you, Y/N?"
He was crazy. You closed your eyes, resigning to your fate. Seonghwa pulls the trigger, and then nothing. You couldn’t believe it, but still, you heaved a sigh of relief. You should have known that the gun was empty.
When you opened your eyes again, Seonghwa was livid. You release a cry that you've been holding. He grabbed your head, furious. "The love I'm willing to give you terrifies you, but death doesn't?”
This was it. It was this moment that will forever haunt you, because this was the moment that you knew something in Seonghwa had snapped.
Your breath got caught in your throat, the reality of the situation sinking in on you. His eyes gleamed with insanity, his pupils dilated with something wild and manic, and the feverish look in them twisted with madness that made your blood run cold. There was nothing human about it. Seonghwa was beyond saving.
“You’re scaring me, Seonghwa, please, let go,” you trembled in his grip, but he didn’t even notice. He was so lost.
“You think love is supposed to be sweet, gentle, or some other bullshit that’s supposed to feel good?” Seonghwa gnarled with unsettling fervor, nails digging into your skin. He shook his head violently. “No, it’s supposed to be consuming, something that takes everything. Just like what you’ve taken from me.”
“I didn’t take anything from you,” you thrashed around from his grip when his other hand held your hips to settle you, not caring if he scratched you at this point with the other. “S-Seonghwa, stop it!”
At the height of your desperation, you collapsed onto the floor with him, it was how hard he was gripping your waist as he tried to run away. His hands slam onto the ground when he ended up underneath him, but what truly horrified you was when he threw his head back and started laughing out loud. It was no longer the laugh of a regular person, the sound of it was shrill, hollow, and maddened. “Let me explain something to you,” he gritted his teeth, leaning down. “Love can be nurtured and rebuilt. It’s a pathetic attempt to construct something out of nothing, and I will dismantle and reshape yours until you look at me with the same love you used to look at me with before you—”
Your hand flew to his face before you could think, slapping his cheek with such force the crack of it was so loud against the room. You were horrified, you didn’t mean to hurt him, but the idea of what he was saying just sickened you because love can’t be molded from blood and pain. Seonghwa’s eyes darted towards yours, and for a split second, he looked betrayed.
That is, until his face contorted into something grotesque, and he grabbed your hands. You paled, because he started banging his head on your fists violently as he screamed, a horrible primal sound that came from within his guts.
“No, no, no!” Seonghwa bellowed like a madman. “I just want you to love me—”
“Seonghwa, stop it, stop!” You screamed, trying to pry your hands back from him because you were genuinely scared now, not even caring that your hands were hurting really bad from the hardness of his head.
“Stop!”
He paused, eyes bulged with fury. He lets go of your hands and you let them fall to your sides as you watch him get off of you to drop on his knees and bang his fists on your wooden floor. “I can’t take this anymore,” his breath came in jagged rasps. “I”m not crazy, fuck. Fucking hell, Y/N. I just want you.”
He broke down. You sat down, completely scooting away from him, watching as his tears fell down. His sobs, you were terrified of how guttural and broken they sounded. It was the image of a man who had lost his mind so long ago. “How can you do this to me?” Seonghwa growled through his tears. “This is the second time you left me, how can you fucking do this to me?”
His forehead was pressed against the unforgiving surface of the floor. His sobs were quiet at first, and it did hurt to hear. You clearly weren’t the only one suffering whether it was wrong or right. Soon enough, his cries became louder, more devastatingly raw, and more desperate.
Against your better judgment, you not only felt fear for yourself, but for Seonghwa as well. A split second of thought passes through you, had you made him like this? You knew that wasn’t the case, but as you stared at the tremors that shook his entire frame, you couldn’t help but think that you had some sort of part in this.
This wasn’t Seonghwa, what had become of the man you used to love?
Your heart pounded in your chest when his gaze met yours. You didn’t even have time to scream as he charged towards you to grip your shoulders. “Love me,” Seonghwa grinned, teeth bared, eyes widened with insanity. “That should fix this, love me once more, pretty dove. Be mine again.”
“You don’t know what you want,” you back up, terror seeping in your bones. 
“No, you don’t understand,” he grabbed your shoulders tighter and a yelp slipped your lips. He tightened his hold, his eyes widening a bit more that he resembled a mental asylum patient. ”Love me.”
Tears fall down your eyes in sheer horror. Seonghwa bites his lips, groaning in pleasure at your scared display. You flinched when the back of his shaking hands tried to caress your cheeks. 
It was a mistake. His eyes squint dangerously, yet his lips still remained in that disturbed smile, frozen in his face perpetually. “Seonghwa, please, you’re scaring me—-“
“I love you so much, dove,” he cooed mockingly. His fists bunched up your hair in a tight bun and pulled on your head. “Why is it so fucking difficult for you to love me back?”
Pitiful screams erupt from your mouth as Seonghwa rattled your head around, as if doing so would make you change your mind. Your hands tried to pry his hands, the pain on your scalp blooming bigger. “Seonghwa, s-stop, please! Please!”
To your utter surprise, amidst your dizziness, he does stop. Your eyes were nearly rolling behind your head and if he didn’t stop, you might have thrown up. His tear-streaked, bloodshot eyes emphasized the current state of his mind as he cradles your face in between his hands almost lovingly,
Almost. It felt infantilizing. It made you sick.
“Are you going to love me now?” Seonghwa asked one more time, his eyes flicking between tenderness and madness. “Do you fucking love me now?”
A strained whimper escapes your throat, a choked out cry accompanying it. It was a sick symphony; a travesty made worse when Seonghwa leaned in until his lips were touching the shell of your ear.
"Tell me you love me," he ordered, his voice deceptively soft.  "I might do something you and I will both regret if you don't."
You swallowed, quivering with intense dread. Your knees threatened to buckle under all the weight of what Seonghwa was demanding of you at this very moment. "I-I love you, please..."
You held your breath when Seonghwa put his fingers on either side of your mouth, stretching them sideways to give the illusion that you were actually smiling. It was something straight out of a horror film, your tears wouldn't stop falling as he literally forced a smile out of you.
"That wasn't so hard, wasn't it? You did it," he praised, stroking your hair gently like he wasn't doing anything wrong. To be fair, in his mind, he wasn't doing anything wrong.
You jumped when he suddenly grabbed your chin and squeezed your cheeks together. It was slightly painful, and it elicited a pained groan from you. "But, I don’t believe you."
He pushed your face away with such a force, your head snapped to the side. It was when your legs lost their strength and you crumpled to the ground in one heap of a mess. And you knew deep in your heart, Seonghwa’s show of cruelty wasn’t what was truly crushing you.
The most painful thing about all of this was that despite all of this insanity, despite all the chaos and madness, was that you weren’t lying - you still loved Seonghwa. You still loved him with every fiber of your being.
True imprisonment wasn’t him forcing you into a room and locking you in and not letting you go until he was satisfied, it was all these feelings trapped in your heart even if it threatened to tear you apart. Seonghwa was not a good person, he was a monster, yet the love still lingered, clinging to you like a disease.
This pain in your heart, it was the proof that you still loved him. And that is the worst of it, you knew better than this.
Finally, something in Seonghwa’s chest began to lift as he stared at your pitiful form. When he closed his eyes, for what felt like an eternity, images of your smile filled his head. For a moment, he was filled with the love he felt for you for the first time, that pureness before it got tainted with something dark.
“I’ll let you go,” he whispered brokenly. His eyes filled with a broken kind of longing, eyes searching your face to read your expression. “I love you, Y/N. God, I love you. But I’m letting you go. I can’t live like this, either. I have an organization waiting for me.”
He hesitated, his voice hoarse with resignation. “One last time. Before you go. One last night, together. No more pain, no more bitterness. Just us.”
You almost didn’t want to believe it, was Seonghwa really going to let you go? Surely, it couldn’t be this easy. You highly doubted what he said, just staring at him with suspicion. He sighed frustratedly, his hands combing his hair in a mess and letting them hang over his face. You frowned, the state of his hair was the state of his mind. He hated it getting messed up.
His words came out strained. For a second, you felt bad for him. He was giving up, Seonghwa never gave up, but this was it, your ticket to freedom. “I would never stop wanting you, and needing you, Y/N. You have to get away from me.”
“Okay,” you whispered, trying to summon the courage to feel what you had in your heart even if it was for tonight. “One last time.”
“Prove it,” he suddenly blurted out. His eyes locked with yours, and your chest almost exploded with the urgent need in them. “I want to believe you, dove, I really do. I can see it in your eyes. Come with me.”
Here come the excuses that fuel the illusions, but you’d rather feel something, than nothing at all. 
You should have felt repulsed, but here you were, grabbing the hand that he offered until he pulled you to the other room, one that you knew all too well. Seonghwa’s lips were on yours before you could think of anything else. 
A groan sounds from the back of his throat as he pins you to the wall, his kisses frantic and desperate as if he was trying to feed his own illusions. You opened your mouth to take his intruding tongue, the wet muscle exploring the crevices of your mouth like he’s never done it before.
You wanted to cry, how could you still give him all of you when he was a far cry from the person you used to know? You suddenly didn’t know who was truly insane here, the roots of his madness had slowly uprooted themselves in you and it was difficult to pluck them away at this point.
You hated this, even as his mouth was hot and bruising against yours, because despite the danger in his eyes and the way his hands shook with the need to possess you, your heart still ached to reach for him.
“H-Hwa,” you gasped when he pulled your head backwards by your head, exposing your beck to his desires.”
“Shhh,” he hushed you, burying his head on the crook of your neck, wasting no time planting his love bites to mark you, the one he knew that drove you crazy. Stars aligned your vision as he sucked the delicate skin of your neck, taking his time to graze his teeth on them and alternating between the two.
You’d really rather feel something, than nothing at all.
He grabbed your hand, firmly guiding it to his crotch, using his other hand to unzip his pants and lower them. He wraps your hand on his aching cock, gasping softly as you feel it hard and pulsing in your hand. “F-Fuck, baby,” he hissed. “Touch me, please, I-I need it.”
Your breathing grew faster as you closed your hand around it and began stroking it. His moans of pleasure hit your ear followed by the sensual calling of your name that slipped from his tongue and you couldn’t help but squeeze him. You cried out in surprise when both his hands quickly slipped under your shirt and grabbed your breasts, his fingers digging in deep.
“Seonghwa! H-Hwa,” you breathed out, not caring for the consequences. You forgot the fear, just focusing on his lips that still attacked your neck.
“Take your panties off, dove,” he panted, his ragged breaths against your ear turning the last coherent parts of your brain into mush. “Now, love dove, please.”
You didn’t let his cock go - you didn’t want to - turning your head a bit to whisper in his ear, “Yes, mommy,” in the most sensual voice you’ve ever mustered, surprising even yourself. You obeyed, your panties hitting the floor.
“Oh, fuck, my love, y-you can’t just do that,” he growled, shuddering against your skin.
“W-Why? I like the way you touch me,” you breathed out as his fingers adeptly plucked your nipples with his fingers, rolling them in between to stimulate pleasure out of you in the best way possible.
He chuckled, planting a soft kiss on your temple. “Let go.”
You pouted in dissatisfaction when his hands stopped fondling your breasts and pulling yours away from his cock, but your eyes widened when he lifted one of your legs up and held it up, pressing onto your body impossibly closer. “Look at me,” he grunted. “Look at me.”
You’ve never been fucked standing up before. You kept your eyes on him, almost exploding at how hooded and lidded they were as sweat trailed down from his temples to his lashes. “Hwa, o-oh my God, mmm,” you moaned out when he positioned his cock in between your pussy lips.
He gives you a lazy smile as he rubs the head on your clit, satisfaction rolling through him at the ecstasy written on your face. “You want it?” Seonghwa softly asked even though he was aching to plunge inside you immediately.
You found yourself questioning the reality of what was happening, doubting, but your body had other plans. You haven’t seen Seonghwa smile without any malice in a long, long time. You lifted your head, you had to lean it against Seonghwa’s own forehead since he was basically towering over you. You heard his gulp hard, watched him close his eyes. It was all he needed to know.
“Seonghwa,” you cried out when he started to enter you, his hand snaking on your behind to push you towards his intruding cock, completely filling you to the brim with his throbbing thickness. The both of you still had your tops on, but it didn’t stop his heat from migrating towards you. “S-So good.”
“Oh, fuck,” he growled under his breath, burying his head on your shoulders once more to savour the sensation of your pussy clenching around him as he began thrusting into you with a brutal pace of his hips. “Hold on tight, sweetie, I’m going to fuck you harder, yeah?”
“M-Mhhm—Hwa, mmm, Hwa!” Your cries were loud and grating against your throat, the pleasure overtaking all of your senses. You were pretty sure his men heard it from outside the house. You didn’t care, all you felt was Seonghwa’s hot breath against your ear as he nibbled on it.
You gasped when he pulled out momentarily to peel you off the wall. He turned you around before he pushed you again, growling as his cock entered you from behind this time. You couldn’t stop the blush forming on your cheeks as you faced the floor-length mirror you had in your room, Seonghwa’s dark eyes watching your tits sway back and forth from his thrusts.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he taunted, his hand groping one of your tits. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Look at you, fucking yourself back on my cock.”
You cried as he hit a particular spot inside you as your hips buckled to meet his. He points at somewhere in particular. “Why don’t you be a sweetheart and give that gun back to me?”
You didn’t care anymore, you were drowning in pleasure, far too gone to think about what he was asking you. You scrambled, getting his pistol from the nightstand where he put it earlier and handed it to him. “S-Seonghwa—”
“I love you so fucking much, you don’t even understand,” he groaned amidst the slapping of skin on skin echoing through the walls of your bedroom. Your hips stilled momentarily when he pointed the gun on the back of your head. “Relax,” he chuckled. “It’s not loaded, remember?”
You licked your lips, actually ashamed at the arousal that coated your inner walls, subconsciously clenching on Seonghwa’s cock at the image you saw on the mirror in front of you. “Fuck me,” he mouthed, digging the gun into your hair.
“Fuck, Seonghwa,” you choked out, moving your hips once more to feel his thick length move inside you. This wasn’t supposed to be hot, it wasn’t supposed to be this much of a turn on for you, but it was.
“You wanna know something, baby?” Seonghwa leaned towards your ear, his grunts spurring your hips to move backwards and forward. “You’re just as sick as I am. You really should be ashamed of yourself for getting turned on about this.”
You moaned impossibly louder as you shoved your behind faster on him over and over again, his full length stretching you out with each thrust. This image will be ingrained in Seonghwa’s brain forever, and he wasn’t going to last another second longer. “G-Gonna come, baby—fuck.”
You gasped, clamping around his length as you felt his warmth fill up your insides. Seonghwa growled loudly, his breathing strained and laboured as he thrust in a couple more times before suddenly pulling out and kneeling down. “H-Hwa, what are you—”
Your eyes rolled at the back of your head at his tongue’s onslaught, your arousal mixed with his sticky cum dripping down from your hole all the way down his tongue as he lapped on it, some of the excess trailing down from your thighs all the way down to your feet. Your hands planted themselves on Seonghwa’s hair, unconsciously pulling on it as you continued to cream in his mouth.
The way his tongue rolled on your sensitive bud had your knees buckling, but Seonghwa made sure to keep you up, not even bothering to pause, and just like a hurricane, the force of your orgasm knocked the wind out of your lungs as the hot, searing flash of white blinded you for a couple of second.
It set you on fire, and he dove at your pussy with enthusiasm. Seonghwa took long, broad licks of your pussy, pausing every so often to push his whole tongue into you, wiggle it around, and then focus on your clit.
He repeated this pattern a dozen times, you had your hands in his hair, and as you approached orgasm, your grip got tighter and tighter. Seonghwa groaned at the sensation, and finally, you let loose with another loud moan, forcing his face into you even further as you reached your second climax. “Seonghwa…”
“Just like that, baby, come on my tongue, mmm,” Seonghwa coaxed you through the wild shaking of your body until you let out the deepest sigh accompanied with a small whine of overstimulation. His licks slowed down, his hands caressing your soft thighs, before finally stopping to stand back up.
“Get on the bed,” he held your arm and slightly pushed you towards it without even waiting for your response.
You blinked repeatedly at him. “W-What?”
“You heard me,” he deadpanned, unbuttoning his crisp, white shirt before tossing it randomly somewhere along with the gun. “On your back. I’m not done fucking you.”
You weren’t supposed to be turned on by that, but you were. You swallowed when you looked down and realized he was still fully hard even after coming inside you. You did as told, trying hard not to stutter in your steps as you laid on your bed, letting Seonghwa spread your legs to position himself in between them.
“Arms up,” he whispered. You did as told without hesitation, letting him also take your shirt off along with your bra until you were completely bare beneath him. He groaned at the sight of you, especially your glistening pussy, still half-full with his cum. “Stubborn as you are, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips.
“I want you inside me," you whispered to his mouth and his eyes closed in bliss as you guided his hard cock to your wet, slick pussy.
For a moment, you forgot how deranged he was. Seonghwa poured all the love, no matter how crazed it was, his affection, and his passion in the kiss. You quickly accommodated him, kissing him back just as passionately, immediately tasting yourself and him on your tongue. “Mhhm,” you whimpered as you felt his cock slowly slide into you.
He pulled away to whisper against your mouth. “Wrap your legs around me, love.”
You did as told, moaning in his mouth as he pushed himself more until he was, once again, all the way inside you as deeply as he could. You swallowed Seonghwa’s moans, his thrusts shallow. He would pull in just enough for the tip to remain before slowly thrusting back into you. 
He was as gentle as possible, but it wasn’t going to last long. You hoped it didn’t last.
“Fuck, Y/N, this pussy is mine,” Seonghwa growled, giving it to you exactly as you wanted - hard, fast, rough -  not caring if you were a screaming mess. He just kept pounding you down the mattress and it shook the bed with how forceful he was.
“Tell me you love me, even if it’s just for tonight,” he begged, eyes filled with unshed tears as he stared down at you. “Even if it’s a lie, tell me you love me.”
But that was the thing. It wasn’t going to be a lie. His eyes widened a bit when he realized that you weren’t going to be lying. 
“I love you, Hwa. I love you,” you sniffled with tears of your own. 
He smiled. He smiled. “I love you, too, my dear,” he whispered. “I really do.”
“Hwa, Hwa, H-Hwa, f-fuck,” you clenched at the sight of him on top of you, the usual prim and proper look on him long gone, replaced by someone primal who devoured you whole. 
“Louder, baby,” he groaned out loudly, his eyes dropping heavily with lust, his hips slamming onto your ass obscenely. “I want the entire neighbourhood to know who you belong to, f-fuck.”
His groans were just as loud as yours, it was honestly such a turn on. He smirked at your fucked out expression. “Look at you, baby,” he chuckled darkly, leaning down to press lightly on your neck. “Fuck, look at you going dumb around my cock, yes, squeeze me, love, squeeze my fucking cock.”
You didn’t want to be fucked anymore, you needed to be destroyed. “Fuck, yes, just like that, my love, feel my fucking cock deep in you,” he panted out, slamming into you even harder.
He was going deeper in you with all his might, sweat dripping down from his forehead to your chest. His arms rippled as he supported his own weight and you felt his back muscles moving as he continued with his assault on your poor pussy. 
“D-Don’t stop, Hwa, please, keep f-fucking,” you begged, stars lighting up your vision everytime you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your pussy.
You could hear Seonghwa groan and curse earnestly, barely audible over the hard smacks of your hips against the solid wall of his thighs. You could barely keep yourself together as he used you like a toy. “My only purpose is to fuck you over and over again,” he gritted out, holding your head in his hands as your body went back and forth on his cock. “You ready to take my cum again?”
You nodded, eyes wide in anticipation. “Y-Yes, mommy, give me your cum, please.”
His hips stuttered, his mouth dropping down, roughly pounding into you. “You, fuck,” he moaned out, his voice roaring loudly in the air. “Y-You will never, ever be satisfied with someone else once I’m through with you.”
Seonghwa’s face twisted in concentration, his teeth gritting as his thrusts slowed down, and you gasped audibly when you felt another round of his seed warm the walls of your pussy. “Y/N, dove, a-ah, fuck,” he whimpered, his voice high pitched with all the pleasure he felt as he pulsated inside you.
You were delirious at this point, but when he gripped your legs tightly once more to hoist them up his shoulders, you sobered up really quick. You squealed pathetically, his reinsertion setting your nerves on fire. “H-Hwa, f-fuck–”
“That’s it, baby,” Seonghwa moaned, his eyes fluttering close, biting his bottom lip at the quivering sensation that ruled his body. Overstimulation threatened to snap his cock into two, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted all of you.
“Baby, fuck, ngh,” he whined, his deep voice absolutely nowhere to be found and, God, it absolutely did something to you. His eyes closed shut, his hips stuttering in the cadence of his never-ending thrusts. You didn’t have time to be surprised, Seonghwa was insane. Surely, it didn’t just stop there. 
Your lips crashed together once more in a hungry kiss, Seonghwa’s hips pistoning into you in and out, grunts of pain reaching your ears. “I’m g-gonna keep fucking you,” he gritted his teeth, pain blooming on his groin, pleasure just right behind it. “I’m not gonna stop…”
He completely engulfed you in his arms as your legs dropped down to his waist to tighten your grip on him, pulling him impossibly closer to you, grinding onto his body with a delicious friction.
If it was possible, the overstimulating pain made Seonghwa rougher, more intense, and more desperate than ever before. The bed squeaked beneath you but you could barely hear it over Seonghwa’s roars. “You’re mine, Y/N, you’re all mine, fuck,” he growled, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Mine.”
“Seonghwa, a-ah, S-Seonghwa, wanna c-come,” you whined at the pain, but it just made him bite deeper. It was all you needed to feel that familiar tickle in your groin, and your heat began to wrap around him even tighter at the sensation. “O-Oh, S-Seonghwa, come inside me—”
It was all he needed to come undone. You gasped audibly when he put his hands behind your head to forcibly make you look him in the eye. His eyes blazed with fury and determination amidst the pain of his cock driving in and out of you. The insanity was back, and he made sure you saw it. 
“I’ll breed you. Put my babies in you so you’d never leave me again,” he panted, hilting himself with one final thrust before yelling out on your shoulders, barely muffling the sound. 
You weren’t completely drowning in that much pleasure to agree. “H-Hwa, baby, t-this isn’t right,” you whimpered, mouth dropped open at the tingling sensation another orgasm wanted to bring. 
You felt his seed shoot inside you one final time and it was all you needed. “Come, baby, come on my cock, please, please, please, come on my fucking cock,” he gasped as the pleasure become to much for him. 
Your body began to seize against his hold. Seonghwa covered your lips with his with a kiss that spoke volumes. He let you moan onto his tongue as your cunt pulsed all around his cock, reaching a euphoria your mind couldn’t comprehend. You both stayed locked together, savouring the comedown, but not really ready to let go as of yet.
And when Seonghwa finally pulled out, he couldn’t help the growl that emitted from the back of his throat as his cum began spilling out of you in copious amounts. Even he was surprised at how much cum was spilling out of your used, puffy cunt. His cock was numb. 
He smirked, it was all worth it.
“So, this is it, I suppose,” you breathed out, laying down in bed tiredly, carefully lifting the blankets to cover yourself. Not that you needed to keep decency. “I hope you know that I do care for you, but I also want you to know that we both need time away to heal from each other.”
You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of manipulation or desperation, but all you saw was raw, unguarded emotion. The kind you hadn’t seen from him in months. He sighed, turning to his side and facing you. “Can I ask you something?” Seonghwa muttered.
You nodded your head, awaiting his question. “Have you ever wondered what we could have been if I was just Park Seonghwa? Not the mafia lord, not the criminal, not the murderer. Just Seonghwa.”
What he was asking of you hit you harder than you thought. It made sense that he’d ask, it was the main reason you left, after all. “Every single day,” you admitted. “I would imagine we’d be married by now, maybe we’d have had our first child, too.”
Seonghwa let out a laugh that sounded more self-deprecating than anything. It was soft, but full of pain - the pain of recognizing that the what-ifs would remain just that. “When you walked out on me,” he exhaled slowly. “I could’ve stopped you, I could’ve tried harder, maybe made more false promises. Believe it or not, I did give you space.”
“You did,” you stated, rather than asked, your voice cracking. You weren’t ready to talk about these, but this might be the last time you’d ever see Seonghwa.
“I did,” he confirmed. “Would you have come back to me if I didn’t chase you around?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. You let the question linger in the air, because this was something you’d never asked yourself before. “I don’t know,” you answered. “And we’ll both never know. We can’t change what happened, and we can’t rewrite the past.”
Seonghwa met your gaze again, and this time, there was no anger and no regret, just the aching kind of understanding as his stare was fixed towards you. There was something in the intensity of his stare that made you catch your breath. He didn’t blink, nor did he look away. He just stared at you.
“In a perfect world, you’d want me, need me, as much I do,” he whispered, jutting his hand out to caress your cheek. “I knew you’d never want this, but I also know because you’d have come running back to me anyway because you love me. You’d have surrendered to me and if you did, I wouldn’t chase you like a fool. I would be letting you go.”
“I’m tired of thinking, Seonghwa. I really am. There’s not much I can think of but the reality where we’re in right now,” you said.
“And I really wish that you didn’t think. I wish that you knew for certain. But unfortunately, this world is not perfect. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Right here, right now.”
You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come right away. The way his eyes reflected all the hope, albeit only a little, crushed you. “I want to be free,” you finally said, the words strange in your mouth. “We both need to stop living in a lie, Seonghwa. I’m not the same, and neither are you.”
It hurt for you to say these things out loud, but it needed to be done. He didn’t say anything for a while, and you could tell he was hurting, as well. This man was once your world, but not anymore. You can’t carry him and the weight of his pain on your shoulders anymore. “Will you set me free? Can you let me go once and for all?”
It takes Seonghwa several seconds to fully understand your request, but when he finally does, a nauseating sensation overwhelms him, a sickness settling in his stomach, twisting around his insides. He always believed there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, that’s how much he loved you, yet you just managed to find something. “One more question,” he insisted softly.
“What?”
“I know you still love me. Might be more than I love you, might be less. Will you ever stop loving me?”
The question was simple, but the way it knocked all the air out of your lungs made you think otherwise. You wanted to lie, wanted to look Seonghwa in the eye and tell him the opposite of what you truly felt for him. In fact, it would be very easy to lie to his face because this was your freedom.
Seonghwa’s gaze was steady, like he already knew the answer, but needed to hear it from you. He held his breath, still waiting for you to say something, but you were too frozen to do so.
You avoided eye contact. “Does it matter?”
“Yes,” he answered a bit too quickly for your liking.
“No, I don’t think I will,” you admitted, finally at peace with the truth, because deep down, you knew that this was the last time you’d ever say it out loud. Even though you still loved Seonghwa dearly, you had to let go for good.
For the first time, the truth didn’t hurt you. 
Something resolute passes through his eyes before he finally breaks eye contact with you, repositioning himself on the bed to lay down on his back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m moving to New York next week. Permanently. We all are,” he said. “Operations there are far more beneficial for me since the crime rate will help a lot.”
As much as that statement felt like a punch to the gut for you, a small part of your brain was telling you that this was a good thing because the finality of you and Seonghwa not seeing each other again was coming into place. 
This was why you couldn’t be with Seonghwa no matter how much you loved each other. His ties to the mafia and illicit dealings was the least of your concern - it was the danger that will forever lurk with him. You were never ready for the emotional and psychological toll it will inflict you. You didn’t want Seonghwa to come home with a bullet between his eyes or have to visit him in jail. Never mind the constant target for retaliation should something go wrong with an enemy group.
“I see,” you replied, not knowing what else to say.
“Let’s have coffee one last time before I leave,” he pleaded. “Would you grant me that right even though you owe me nothing but ignorance?”
It was innocent enough, but it wasn’t that simple. You wanted to establish that line between the two of you as early as now, yet there was that longing that always reared its ugly head whenever you tried to push it down.
Why was it that when you were this close to pulling away, Seonghwa makes your heart flutter again? What is it about him that kept pulling you back?
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The walk to the cafe was nerve-wracking for you, to say the least. The last time you were here, you didn’t know where you stood with Seonghwa. It hasn’t even been four months since then and yet, it felt like it was a lifetime ago.
You hesitated, your foot rooted to the ground directly outside the entrance. The closer you got to going in, the wider the hole in your gut got. You figured it was just the nerves, you were finally saying goodbye to your tormentor - as fucked as that sounded - after all the days you were trapped in confusion and pain.
You took a deep breath, choosing to leave your nerves behind and making your choice, something you haven’t made for yourself in a while.
You weren’t ready, not in the slightest, but there he was. Seonghwa sat in the same corner where you were the last time, and for once, he wasn’t purposefully late, or rather, he chose not to humiliate you this time and made you wait to no end. 
You couldn’t help but stare at him. He was staring out to the world in deep thought, his hands shoved deep in his  pockets. He wasn’t even doing anything, yet his quiet elegance still commanded respect. Seonghwa leaned casually against his chair, his dark, tailored coat hugging his body just right and his hair neatly combed up - far from the hot mess of a man who was on top of you the other week.
Your heart thudded in your chest. He looked like he was leaving for good.
And then, he was suddenly looking at you. “Hey,” he whispered, almost unsure. It was a type of voice you haven’t heard from him in so long. The last time you heard it was when he was asking you to marry him one cool, summer night a year and a half back.
“Hey,” you smiled tightly, putting your lips in a thin line as you tentatively approached the table. Truth be told, you wanted to walk away. Something was gnawing in your chest. But the part that loved him so, the part that wanted to let go, didn’t.
“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Seonghwa gestured to your seat, even going as far as pulling your chair for you and pushing it back for you to sit on like a gentleman. He had a serene smile on his face when he went back to his. “But, I’m glad you’re here.”
He, once again, gestures his slender hands, but this time, at the table in front of you. He already took the liberty to order some food. It was one of the rarer things that you didn’t take offense to when it came to him; as warped as his mind was, he did cater to your needs very well, and that included the type of food you liked to eat and how you liked your coffee.
“Thank you,” you murmured, taking a small sip of your vanilla iced coffee, pleased to find that Seonghwa had already requested extra syrup. It was extra sweet this time, though, but you weren’t complaining. “When are you leaving?”
His sharp eyes calculated your every move, lingering on your lips a little too long before his own lips twitched ever so slightly. “In two hours,” he replied. “Most of our stuff is already in transit. I just have to be physically there. I really just wanted us to end on a decent note.”
You blinked, not totally processing his words at first. It hit you like stone when it did. You smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It can’t get more decent than this,” you murmured. It was true, this was the first time that the strain between the two of you wasn’t crackling in the air.
You took another sip of your coffee, just so you weren’t sitting so awkwardly and so stiffly. The aftereffects of the months of unresolved tension were making you dizzy, an almost surreal sensation clouding your vision. Huh, you thought, you underestimated how stressed you actually were.
“You okay?” Seonghwa asked, brows furrowed together, his lips strung in a deep frown. There was an imperceptible shift in his expression, but the haze was too much for you to calculate what it really meant.
“Yeah,” you said,  taking a deep breath and hoping that the dizziness would pass. “I’m just a little tired.”
You booked a little vacation on the seaside for tomorrow, something you didn’t tell Seonghwa. You had no need to. You were looking forward to that as you were seated, thanking your lucky stars that you actually booked it at the last minute. You needed to unwind after all of this.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re pale, love,” Seonghwa raised his hand to touch you, something you rejected with a wave of your hand, and something he surprisingly respected.
He sounded a little more insistent now, but he still held that calmness he was known for in the criminal world, but in the end, all he could do was sigh in resignation. “If you insist,” he said, even though he looked like he wanted to say more.
The air felt cold, heavier, and now thicker with all the unspoken things between the two of you that would remain just that - unspoken. Seonghwa resembled a man who had carried the weight of regret for far too long, but even he knew that it was too late.
“I won’t keep you too long,” he said, his words slow as if he was dragging them out. They were raw, nonetheless. “I just wanted to say goodbye properly. The right way.”
He paused to smile thinly. “I just…had to see you before we went. I’m not going to ask for your forgiveness, Y/N, and I suppose that’s the only real thing I will always be sorry for because I can’t control the way my heart yearned for you, no matter how wrong it got.”
“It’s okay,” you almost scoffed. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, anyway.”
“Touché,” he chuckled.
You swallowed hard, a little disappointed, but to be honest, you were fine with that. You can respect honesty and self-awareness. “But, you think this would be enough, Seonghwa? I don’t mean that in a bad way.”
The room began to tilt as you swayed only a bit, nothing too noticeable, but it was enough nausea to concern you. His lips curled as he stared at you, but the hesitation in which he ran his hand through his hair in frustration distracted you.
“I don’t know, little dove, I don’t expect it to be enough. I guess I just needed you to know that I never meant to hurt you like I did, and maybe that’s not enough, but it’s all I have left,” he stared at you. “ I wish things had been different. I really did. But now, I have to go.” 
You set the coffee down, your hands clammy and your mouth went dry, the dizziness getting too detrimental for you to concentrate. Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed as he watched you carefully. Too carefully.
“Good luck, Seonghwa,” you said, quiet and sincere. You got up and stepped back from the table, from him. You had to go, you were starting to feel really unwell. “I’m sorry I can’t support you with the path you’re taking. I wish you happiness you couldn’t have with me, I really do.” 
“Sweetheart, wait…”
He stood up as well, his eyes searching yours like he was waiting for something more, but there was something else underneath it, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Before he could say something, you turned around towards the door and began to briskly walk away.
Walking away from Seonghwa felt wrong, but what was worse was the growing unease you felt - the same one you did before you even entered the cafe. Your legs were unsteady, you couldn’t even take a step away from the entrance. Black spots began to dance from your vision, it was getting more difficult to stay upright.
You gave in, your body feeling lighter as you felt yourself begin to tumble down the floor, but before you could, steady hands guided you upwards until your head pressed onto a firm chest. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. 
“S-Seonghwa,” you slurred, leaning further into him against your will just so you couldn’t fall. “W-What’s going on…”
You felt him dig his fingers firmly on your shoulders, not enough to hurt, but enough for him to hold you to your place. He pushes you gently against the wall, tilting your lolling head to his face. 
Your blood ran cold. The look in his face told you everything you needed to know. His thumb forcibly opened your lips and the realization hit you so hard it left you reeling - the coffee. You weren’t supposed to feel like this, it wasn’t the anxiety. He smirked, almost smug.
“You were always so wary of me,” he chuckled darkly, leaning in to give you a small peck on the side of your lips before licking the small trail of saliva that pooled outside of your mouth. “I’m surprised it took you this long, I thought you’d see it coming, at least.”
“You…spiked m-my,” you managed to choke out, your breath coming in short gasps.
He didn’t seem alarmed. In fact, there was a calmness to him, as though he had expected this reaction, as though this was all part of his plan. You tried to push him away even though you could barely stand. “Seonghwa, I-I don’t f-feel well,” you admitted.
His smirk fell, genuine concern bleeding onto it as he cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, love, you were probably just sensitive to it,” he frowned. You hated that you knew what he meant. “Let’s get you to the car—”
“N-No, let go,” your body swayed, until your legs had finally given out on you, your eyes fluttering close.
“Hey, hey, stay with me,” his voice was sharp, laced with panic. You felt yourself being lifted bridal-style. You could hear him calling your name over and over. “Come on, baby, don’t give out on me now,” he urged, the desperation in his voice betraying his calm facade.
“Please, I can’t do this alone,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “This is the only way. I’ll take care of you, yeah? I want to do right by you. I need you to believe me…”
He was scared. He actually hadn’t meant to go this far. 
Everything went black. The last thing you remembered was the sudden pressure of his desperate hands gripping you as if he was afraid that if he let you go that you'd suddenly disappear. His eyes shone with plea, full of panic, as his lips trembled with unspoken words.
When you came to, a dull headache throbbed in the back of your eyes. A sense of disorientation weighed heavily in your chest. The first thing you noticed was that you were sitting upright, your head leaning against a hard, bony surface. A shoulder.
You groaned, trying to remember how you got here, and everything came to you all at once; walking somewhere, the coffee, the nausea, Seonghwa—
Seonghwa.
You groaned, immediately sitting straight and trying to rub your eyes and your head to remove the bleary sleepiness remaining in you, but that wasn’t what caught you off-guard. In fact, fainting in Seonghwa’s arms seemed to be the least of your problems for today.
You froze, your heart leaping to your throat when you saw the cold metal of the handcuff around your wrist. Your hand instinctively tried to pull it away, even going as far as to prying it away with your other hand, but all that did was hurt you, your skin automatically reddening at the friction all the pulling was causing you.
Things just got worse from here then on. You figured that you’d try to pull the source of where your handcuffs were connected to, but to your horror, you realized that the other end was connected to Seonghwa’s own wrist, effectively tying you two together.
He stared at you panicking, his face drawn with exhaustion, but he was watching you closely as everything started to dawn on you. Something cloudy seizes his chest as you look up at him, tears reddening your eyes. His gaze softens, but relief shines through it, nonetheless.
“You’re awake,” he tenderly notes, like he was afraid that you’d get startled and lash out. He leans forward, his hand gingerly holding onto your face to wipe your unfallen tears with his thumb. “Are you okay? Is there anything that hurts? Listen, I know this looks bad, and I get it, but please, give me the chance to explain everything.”
You were stunned speechless, not being able to render opening your mouth to even refute his excuses. Everything was overwhelming, and truth be told, your head still wasn’t fully there. You couldn’t even lean away from Seonghwa’s touch even though you wanted nothing but to spit on his face.
It was one thing to be infuriated with Seonghwa, but more so, you were mad at yourself. How could you be so naïve? How could you be so blatantly stupid as to even meet up with him in the first place and let your guard down? 
Your breathing became ragged despite Seonghwa’s gentle attempts to calm you down. You had basically signed your life to him the moment you agreed to meet up with him in the cafe, because this was his plan all along, and you went along with it like a puppet in his sick version of a show.
Trusting Seonghwa was the equivalent of jumping off of a cliff willingly. You had a first-hand taste of how manipulative, how insane, he actually was, and you still went. You couldn’t even afford to feel bad for yourself since you knew that the fault wasn’t fully his own.
You pulled on your wrist, even though it was pointless, but his hand reached across the small space, gently touching your arm. “I never meant for things to go this far,” he explained, his voice strained. “But I need you to understand—”
“Understand what, Seonghwa? You lied to me,” you gritted your teeth, your heart thudding painfully against your chest as you tried to keep more of your tears at bay. “You lied to me, you sick son of a bitch! You said you were going to let me go! I thought the mafia had honour—”
“I know, dove, I know, but honour be damned if I can’t be with you,” he exasperatedly explained, but you weren’t having it.
“What the hell does that even mean? You kidnapped me! I’ve lost count, Seonghwa,” you seethed, pulling on the handcuffs again, but to no avail. That was when you looked around and realized you didn’t know where you were. “Where even are we?”
Seonghwa’s eyes softened and he leaned back in his seat, letting out a slow breath as he tried to gather his thoughts, the handcuffs connected to him slightly pulling on your wrists. “I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, and I’m not trying to make excuses. But I couldn’t just let you go. I couldn’t let you walk away and forget everything we had. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.”
“Seonghwa,” you trailed off, not liking where this was going, your lips quivering as you spoke. “You said you were going to let me go.”
“I know what I said,” he said. His voice dropped lower, a touch of vulnerability seeping in. “I can’t let you throw it all away, love. The other week, you said you still loved me, and that you were never going to stop loving me. Tell me, how am I supposed to just leave and forget all about that?”
He sighed, long and heavy, looking you straight in the eye. “How am I supposed to leave my heart, knowing that it still beats for the both of us?”
Your mind raced, thoughts tangled in a whirlwind. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. You’d made your choice. You’d walked away from, finally accepted that you just weren’t meant to be, and that you needed to let go to move on.
He shifted, his gaze never leaving yours, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of something in him—hope.
“We can start over, leave everything once and for all,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “No more games. No more lies. We could just be together with a new life.”
You stopped breathing for a second. “W-What do you mean?”
Seonghwa paused, looking genuinely confused for a second. He was taken aback, it hit him that you actually didn’t know where you were. The silence was what prompted you to actually look at your surroundings. You blinked, finally realizing the real reason why you were sitting down when you woke up.
There is a smooth, unnatural hum of an engine beneath you, vibration so low that you wouldn’t even have noticed it.The plush leather seats you were on and in front of you, the overhead area where carry-on luggages usually went to if they were too big to put on the floor, and the stale smell of uncirculated air around the small space.
You were on a plane. Specifically, Seonghwa’s private jet.
“S-Seonghwa,” you yelped, true fear and panic settling in your chest at the prospect of  being trapped here with him.
“You were asleep for half the flight. We’ll be landing in New York in six more hours,” he said quietly. 
You repeatedly shook your head in denial, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. Seonghwa just watched you, his expression a mixture of hurt and concern. “I know you’re scared,” he whispered. “I know I hurt you, but I promise I’ll never hurt you again. “
You looked at him, his eyes full of conviction, full of hope. He was sincere. But that only made it harder.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you pulled away slightly, the weight of the handcuff pulling you back.
His face shifted, pain flashing across his features, but he didn’t let go. “Please,” he said, his voice trembling. “Don’t make me lose you again.”
Your hands tugged at the cuffs again, the metal biting into your wrist, but all that did was make him wrap his big hands around yours. “I’m not asking for a second chance,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “I’m asking for a real chance. A chance to prove that we can make this work. That we can make us work. I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you. And we’ll get through this together.”
You didn’t want to break down in front of him. You  didn’t want to show him this vulnerability, this weakness. But you couldn’t stop.
Through your blurry eyes, you saw him with his gaze soft but filled with something else. Pity. It also had helplessness and guilt, as if seeing you break down before him was a painful reminder of how far he had pushed you.
With that, you hunched over your seat and buried your face in your hands as the tears streamed down your face in hot torrents. The sobs came in uncontrollable waves, violent and loud, your chest heaving as if you might suffocate.
You felt Seonghwa’s hand rub your back soothingly, but you didn’t care to push him anymore. It was over. All the fighting you did for your freedom was for absolutely nothing. The weight of that truth pressed down on your chest, suffocating. 
You didn’t even try to stop Seonghwa from pulling you from your chair to make you sit on his lap as he hugged you tight, burying your face on the crook of his shoulder as your tears came hard, relentless, spilling down your cheeks as your chest heaved with sobs you couldn’t contain anymore. Your hands trembled as you clutched at his clothes, trying to steady yourself.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said softly as he hushed you with comfort that you didn’t want. “I’ll take care of you. We’ll start over, fall in love with each other all over again. You won’t be a part of the organization if you don’t want it, just please, stay with me.”
Your hysterical cries didn’t stop and all Seonghwa did was comfort you with words - words that he actually meant - but what you didn’t see was the pride and satisfaction written on his face as he stared at your crying form. In his own quiet way, he savored every single moment of it.
And he smiled because he knew - and you knew - that you had nowhere else to go. He won.
You belonged to him now.
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𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @keopihaus @dove-net @othersideoutlawsnetwork @hiraya-m @illusionnet @pirateeznet
Dividers by: @cafekitsune and @bernardsbendystraws
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khorneschosen · 2 days ago
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I wonder how you make that cognitive dissonance work for you.
Here you have a group of people who are proposing to genocide and ethnically cleanse an entire group of people. The group you are supporting, hates you and your values. They would if they could murder you as a western whore.
Meanwhile you are condemning us for what? Actually following our laws because despite your efforts you couldn't repeal. That we don't want to allow our laws to be broken, and leave us vulnerable to all the problems with a complete failure to actually enforce our laws causes?
You know why that started that war? That war they started with a war crime they had no chance at winning? They were counting on people like you to feel so bad for the murderous little cowards that you would betray every value you had, and support their efforts to ethnically cleanse an entire region. They stole citizens to extend the war, to maintain it, so they could create a humanitarian crisis in order to internationally and irrationally isolate Israel, so they could get another attempt to genocide them.
That's actual xenophobia with an attempt at genocide no less, but you are right it's not white supremacy its supporting arab supremacy or Muslim supremacy declaring its right to deny the indigenous nature an entire group of people. It's the worship of weakness for the sake of weakness. It's every sin the nazis have and you, love it, you fight for it, you'd even kill for it if anyone gave you a chance which in justice no one should.
So why did you fail? They allowed so many of their own people to be made martyrs and started that war expecting you to do your job. Why did you fail? You know they wont be able to attempt another genocide for decades now. So why did you let them down? Why did you let them down. So many dead because they counted on you. They raped murdered and killed thinking it would lead to more if only you did your job. So why did you fail?
Why didn't you throw your life away for their genocide? Why didn't you set yourself on fire like that idol of yours? Why didn't do more? Why didn't you burn yourself out literally and figuratively for their and your worship of death and evil?
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cece693 · 1 day ago
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PLEASE MORE ASGARDIAN M!READER!!!
May I suggest a fic where the reader wants to bond closely to Wanda and Natasha but, is afraid because their only concept of sister relationships was Hela (reader is a little scared of Hela 😔 due to her destructive nature). Can I also add that the reader has slightly long hair (shoulder length) to braid!
Thank you for your talent and dedication!
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He's Cute (Pt. 1.5)
pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: wanda and natasha are the best, sibling duo, getting ready for the date, hints of WandaNat/ScarletWidow, bucky being adorably smitten, yes 1.5 cause pt. 2 is the actual date :)
You fiddled nervously with the ends of your hair, pacing the length of your borrowed bedroom in the Avengers Compound for what felt like the hundredth time. Today was the day: your very first official Earth date. With none other than Bucky Barnes. Just the thought of it sent a rush of excitement (and panic) through your veins.
The problem? You had no clue how to prepare for a Midgardian date. A tunic and breeches might scream ‘medieval faire,’ and your more formal Asgardian garb would be even more intimidating. What if Bucky took one look at you and decided you were too over-the-top or—in the worst scenario—ran for the hills? Then there was your hair. Should you leave it loose? Tie it back? Attempt some elaborate braid?
What if I make a total fool of myself? you thought, tugging on your hair with a frustrated groan. You considered consulting Thor—briefly—until your imagination conjured an image of him bellowing, “Wear your finest Asgardian leathers!” and slapping you on the back so hard you’d stumble. Not exactly helpful.
You also thought about Tony or Steve, but quickly dismissed those options. Tony might tease you relentlessly, and while Steve was sweet, he was probably as clueless as you when it came to modern dating intricacies.
That left two people you admired from a (sometimes intimidated) distance: Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff. You’d seen how confident and stylish they both were—able to slip into a gown or tactical gear with equal flair. If anyone can help me blend Asgardian flair with Midgard style, you reasoned, it’s them.
Trouble was, the concept of “sisterly” assistance made your stomach twist. Your only sisterly figure had been Hela—and she was the embodiment of destructive chaos. Whenever you thought of “sisterly bonds,” images of shadowy blades and a mocking sneer intruded on your mind. Still, you had no one else to turn to, and time was running out.
It didn’t take long to find them. Wanda lounged on a couch, sipping tea and reading a worn paperback. Natasha reclined in an armchair nearby, scrolling through her phone. They exuded a relaxed warmth that made your nerves surge all over again—how did you even start this conversation?
Wanda glanced up first, her warm eyes creasing in a small smile. “Oh! (Y/N), did you need something?”
Natasha flicked her gaze over to you, phone still in hand. “You look like you’re either about to faint or confess a murder. Everything okay?”
Embarrassed, you rubbed the back of your neck. “I—I’m sorry to interrupt. I know you’re both probably busy, but I…I have a date. With Bucky,” you added softly, feeling your cheeks heat at the admission. “And I have no idea what to wear or how to do my hair, or—anything, really.”
Wanda’s eyebrows rose, and a slow grin spread across her face. “A date with Bucky? That’s adorable.”
Natasha set aside her phone, crossing her arms. “So you want a bit of a makeover?”
You cleared your throat, nerves clashing with relief. “Yes. Please. I don’t know how Earth dates usually go. I’m used to, well…armor and father-gifts, and illusions if I want to ‘dress up.’ But that’s not exactly the vibe here.”
Both women chuckled at that. Natasha stood and motioned for Wanda to follow. “Come on, let’s get you set up. And don’t worry—you’re not bothering us. We’d love to help you not show up to your date in full Asgardian regalia.”
Natasha led you to what appeared to be a converted storage room. Racks of clothing lined the walls, and a couple of tall dressers stood at one end. You caught glimpses of everything from formal evening wear to casual street clothes—no doubt a stockpile from Tony’s various shopping sprees.
“Okay,” Natasha declared, scanning the racks. “We need something comfortable but sharp. You want to catch Bucky’s eye without screaming I’m a prince from another realm.”
Wanda’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Though, honestly, you could show up in a paper bag and he’d probably swoon.”
You felt your cheeks flame. “I—um, I just don’t want to look foolish.”
Natasha brushed aside a row of jackets. “We won’t let that happen. Trust us. Let’s see…” She paused, sizing you up. “You’ve got a good build—broad shoulders, trim waist. We should highlight that. Maybe a well-fitted shirt.”
Wanda’s gaze flicked between you and Natasha. “Oooh, yes. And if we can find a color that brings out his eyes…” She rummaged through a section of button-downs.
That left you standing there, feeling slightly awkward, as they pulled items from hangers and debated the merits of each. You shifted from foot to foot, your anxiety creeping in. This is far less terrifying than dealing with Hela, right? you told yourself. And yet, your heart hammered in your chest.
Eventually, Wanda triumphantly held up a simple, fitted gray button-down. “This might do,” she said, pressing it to your torso. “It’s not flashy, but it’ll look nice with your coloring.”
Natasha grabbed a pair of dark jeans from the next rack. “Try these on. We’ll see if they fit. If they’re too baggy, we’ve got more.”
Clutching the clothes, you ducked behind a folding screen in the corner. The chatter on the other side continued quietly:
“You think Bucky’s actually ready for a date?” Wanda whispered. “Oh, I’m sure he’s ready,” Natasha replied in the same hushed tone. “Steve says he's been looking at the clock constantly and somehow managed to trip over his own feet. He's more than ready."
Their amused banter made you smile—clearly, Bucky was as worked up about this as you were. That was comforting.
You slid into the jeans and button-down, surprised at how well everything fit. They weren’t Asgardian leathers, but the fabric was soft and flexible, hugging you just right. You stepped out self-consciously. “Well? How do I look?”
Wanda gasped softly, covering her mouth. “(Y/N), you look amazing!”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, arms folded. “Yeah, that’ll do. Sleeves up—roll them a bit. Show off those forearms. Trust me.”
Blushing, you obeyed, feeling a little self-conscious and a little flattered. “You really think Bucky will like it?”
“Absolutely,” Wanda replied, beaming. “He’d have to be blind not to notice how good you look.”
Natasha pretended to examine your outfit with a critical eye, but you noticed a small, knowing smile playing at her lips. Then her gaze flicked to Wanda, and they shared a subtle look—one that made your cheeks flush a second time. You weren’t sure, but it almost seemed like there was a soft warmth passing between the two women, a private understanding that neither was voicing.
Then came the matter of your hair. It fell around your shoulders, a bit unruly from the stress of pacing your room all day. You lifted a lock, hesitating. “Normally, if this were a formal Asgardian function, I’d wear a crown braid or decorative metal clasps that sparkle with runes. But that’s probably too fancy, right?”
Wanda stepped closer, gently running her fingers through your hair in a way that felt surprisingly soothing. “Yes. Maybe we could do a simple side-braid, just enough to keep it out of your face. Or tuck it behind your ears. You have a nice jawline, so let’s show it.”
Natasha approached with a comb and some small hair ties, exchanging that same subtle smile with Wanda as they both set to work. You couldn’t help but notice the soft brush of Wanda’s hand, the way Natasha’s posture angled toward her whenever they spoke. Something about their easy familiarity and gentleness felt domestic, like they’d done this a hundred times…maybe even for each other.
“Relax,” Natasha murmured, positioning you to face a mirror. “We won’t do anything too elaborate. Just enough to keep Bucky’s eyes on you, not on how complicated your hairstyle is.”
Wanda’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “Though he’ll definitely be looking either way.”
They worked in tandem, brushing, smoothing, and expertly twisting a small section of hair into a neat side-braid. With each gentle tug, your tension melted. It felt so normal, to be fussed over by these two formidable Avengers, whose reputations alone could strike fear into entire enemy organizations. Yet here they were, braiding your hair and chatting like older sisters might.
Every so often, you caught a flicker of something more than platonic in their glances—maybe the way Wanda’s hand lingered on Natasha’s wrist when passing a hair clip, or the private smiles they exchanged. It was fleeting, but definitely there. You wondered if you were witnessing the beginnings of something deeper between them—or perhaps it had been there all along, carefully kept behind the scenes.
Finally, Wanda tucked the last strand into place, and Natasha stepped back, admiring their work. “Alright, pretty boy. Check it out.”
You moved to the mirror, heart fluttering in anticipation. The reflection that stared back looked…well, incredible. The blazer fit perfectly, highlighting your form without overpowering your frame. The rolled sleeves revealed just enough forearm to be intriguing, and the subtle side-braid left most of your hair loose but framed your face nicely.
Your mouth fell open. “I—I look…”
“Really, really handsome,” Wanda finished, placing a gentle hand on your back.
Natasha’s smile softened. “You do. And trust me, Bucky will probably forget how to speak for a minute when he sees you.”
A mixture of pride and embarrassment bloomed in your chest. “Thank you. Honestly, I feel so confident. I’ve never had that before.”
Wanda wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Of course. You’re about to go on a date, not face a war. It should be fun.”
Natasha’s gaze turned momentarily serious. “But if he does anything to make you uncomfortable—pressures you, upsets you—” She paused, letting the threat linger, “—I will personally have words with him.”
“And by ‘words,’ she means possibly an entire display of violence,” Wanda teased, but her eyes held a protective glint.
You laughed nervously, appreciating the concern. “I—I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Bucky’s so gentle. But...thank you, just the same.”
Natasha nodded firmly. “We look out for our own. And that includes you.”
Your heart swelled at the sentiment—so this was what a supportive sisterly bond could be, untainted by destruction and usurpation. After some final adjustments (Natasha insisted on adjusting your collar just so, and Wanda fussed with a stray hair you couldn’t see), the two women gave you a double thumbs-up.
“Go knock him dead—figuratively,” Wanda teased. “This is Earth, after all.” Halfway to the front entrance, you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Wanda and Natasha standing side by side, exchanging soft smiles. Wanda murmured something, and Natasha’s cheeks tinted the faintest pink before she turned away.
Maybe I’m not the only one with a new romance on the horizon, you mused, feeling a rush of fondness for both of them.
When you finally reached the main entrance, there was Bucky—hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders tense. The moment his eyes landed on you, all that tension melted. A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face, and you swore you saw a slight flush creep up his neck.
“Wow,” he breathed, stepping closer. “You look amazing.”
Your cheeks warmed, but this time it was with genuine confidence. “Thanks. Wanda and Nat helped.”
He nodded, seemingly at a loss for words. “Remind me to, uh…thank them later.”
You chuckled softly. “I’ll let them know.”
The two of you exchanged a few shy glances, the air charged with a thrilling sense of possibility. Bucky offered his arm in that old-fashioned way you found so endearing, and you slipped yours through it, feeling a jolt of warmth as your elbow linked with his. “You ready?” he asked, voice tinged with nervous excitement.
You smiled. “I am.”
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thepenultimateword · 2 days ago
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Types of Confessions : Public Confession
CW: Murder
“I love you!”
For a moment, the entire street seemed to go quiet. Cameras whirred from behind blockades. Nervous feet scraped the asphalt as police shifted, attention briefly moving from Supervillain to the battered hero who had just thrust their way into the line of fire.
Supervillain could only stare, the edge of their knife pressed to the Director’s throat. Just a smidge more pressure, and he’d bleed like the pig he was.
But there was Hero, breathing hard, hair sweaty and ragged in their face, costume in tatters. Supervillain had sent several of the syndicate to hold onto them until this business was over, but apparently they didn’t compare to a legal power user when they really wanted something.
“Don’t do it,” Hero said, stumbling forward another step. They were bleeding through one leg of their leggings. “You do it, and every officer here shoots you down. Or they catch you and dissect your brain until they figure out what went wrong. Why you can still hurt people.”
Supervillain raised their brow. “And if I do stop? What? Mr. Director here forgets I ever threatened him?”
Hero took another step. “I made a deal. I-if you stop. We can leave. Together. They won’t stop you. You don’t have to be trapped in this city anymore. You don’t have hide.”
Supervillain could feel the director’s shoulders relax a little. He was confident that Supervillain would take this out. Exchange all his bitterness for a happy ending.
“This is my magnum opus,” Supervillain said. What I’ve built my career on. You want me to give it up?”
“I love you!”
“Why should that matter?”
Hero choked.
The director stiffened.
“This isn’t about me. This is about you. This is about us. And everyone this city exploits. And crushes. And pushes under the rug. This place is supposed to be some sort of powered utopia but it’s a scheme. And I like it better when I’m the one behind the curtain.”
“Please. Please I don’t want to lose you.”
Supervillain’s heart pounded. Hero’s words only now just soaking in. They didn’t make a difference. But they felt warm in their chest. Hopeful. Grateful. Regretful.
They might never get the chance to actually kiss them. To hold them. To go on a date with them. To tell—
They could do that part. They’d intended to never say it, but well…
“I love you too.”
“Supervillain…” Hero sounded pleading. They knew it wasn’t the sort of ‘I love you’ that expected longevity.
“We could always do both.”
“Supervillain, no wait— I don’t even know if I— This isn’t how—”
They gazed directly into Hero’s eyes. “Save me, my hero.”
Then they slit the director’s throat.
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crochetnerdsworld · 2 days ago
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Secret's Out (Katie McCabe/Reader)
Arsenal teammates Y/N and Katie have been secretly dating for a while now. When Kelley facetime unexpectedly, she finds out and insists Y/N brings Katie to the US.
Y/N groans as her phone goes off. It's early morning. Half awake, she grabs a hoodie off the floor and slips it on quickly. Leaving the room so as to not wake her longtime girlfriend, she answers the facetime, smiling as she sees it is Kelley O'Hara. 
When Y/N first joined the USWNT, she was only sixteen. Having grown up with her uncle as her guardian due to her biological parents being deemed unfit to care for her, she really did not have much family support. Her uncle loves her, but often was forced to work long hours in order to make ends meet so the pair were never extremely close.
Kelley O'Hara was roomed with Y/N and took the young girl under her wing, claiming her as her and Alex's child (Alex went along with it, used to her girlfriend's antics at that point). The three have remained close ever since that first camp and Y/N views them both as her mother figures. Both are protective over their "child" and will fight anyone who hurts her. Needless to say, they were very proud when Y/N got asked to sign with Arsenal, but were worried about her going overseas by herself. They were slightly less worried when it turned out Emily Fox, Y/N's best friend, would be signing with Arsenal, too, but both check in with Y/N daily even though she's been with Arsenal for over a year. 
"Hey Kel. What's up?" Y/N asks, yawning. 
"Hey kiddo. Nothing much, just checking in," Kelley replies.
Katie Mccabe chooses that moment to emerge from the bedroom, a frown on her face due to having woken up without her girlfriend beside her.  Not fully awake, she goes up from behind Y/N and wraps her arms around her waist, resting her head on her shoulder.
"Ye left me alone," Katie pouts, causing Y/N's eyes to widen. She and Katie weren't public with their relationship, wanting their privacy from the media. Y/N really had meant to tell Alex and Kelley, but she just never got around to it. 
"Y/N..." Kelley states.
"Kelley..." Y/N , replies, an "Oh Shit" look on her face, already going for the end call button.
"Don't you dare hang up on me, kid," Kelley warns, "Alex! Alex get your butt in here!" 
"Well gotta go bye love you," Y/N says before quickly hanging up and turning towards Katie, "Well, guess they know now?" 
"Ye, guess they do. They were going to find out eventually," Katie shrugs.
Just then, Y/N's phone is infiltrated with multiple messages from both Kelley and Alex:
Surprise. You are the winner of two plane tickets to San Diego. Nonrefundable. Bring your girlfriend. I just want to talk to her -Kelley
I love you, Y/N/N, and I know you have a good reason for not telling us sooner. We can talk when you get in. I promise I'll try to reel in Kelley, but she's already in mama bear mode. See you soon -Alex 
"O'Hara's going to murder me," Katie groans as she flops onto the couch in a dramatic fashion.
"Nah, she's all bark no bite" Y/N shrugs, joining Katie on the couch.
"Tell that to anyone who's fouled you or Morgan in the past. Pretty sure she punched one of 'em," Katie replies.
******
"They should be here soon. Now, what did we talk about?" Alex questions.
"No murdering Mccabe," Kelley pouts. 
"Good. Get to know her first. Emily says she's really nice and treats Y/N well. You know Fox would kick her butt if she wasn't," Alex states, pecking Kelley's lips softly.
Just then, the doorbell rings and Kelley opens it to reveal Y/N and Katie. Alex ushers the pair inside, hugging Y/N tightly, Kelley doing the same.
"Right then. You hurt her, I will kill you, got it?" Kelley states as she pulls away from hugging Y/N, glaring daggers at Katie.
"Got it," Katie mumbles. In her defense, Kelley O'Hara can be scary when she wants to be. 
"Perfect. Now, what do you two want to do for lunch?" Kelley nods, clapping her hands together. 
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