#tw drug implied

[inky-evergreen]

Rakrakrakra

[boabel]

this is so shit i need [remembers suicide jokes are bad for my mental health] mouse bites to live

[pierrotdoesnteat]

request: midwest emo malespo board

please do not reblog my posts with tags.

[muzgozjeb]

[traumawhomst]

Platonic Yandere Adopted Dad brain rot

(650 words)

Ok but imagine you’re on the run from the law, and you try and duck through someone’s property. You’ve done it a million times before but this time He’s milling about his property and sees you. You of course are ready to book it but you don’t need him tipping off the police of where you are. You nod along politely when he rambles about the local flora while you try and creep away.

You swear you can hear sirens getting closer when he asks you in for a snack if you want it. He asks in that slightly worried dad tone about when you last ate. You agree to come in quickly practically dragging him to his house, trying to ask questions about the wildflowers he was talking about.

You don’t realize that maybe this was a bad idea until you’re feet away from his back door. Maybe following strange men into unknown houses isn’t the safest idea, but you’ve learned to take some risks and forge ahead.

The house is nice, to your surprise. It comfortable but in the way that was made comfortable by the obvious care and love that wore it out. It was clean with soft looking furniture, decorated like something out of a picture book that was about going to your grandparents.

You sit at the kitchen table, (lovingly scuffed up you note) and find yourself relaxing despite everything. He gets you tea and some leftovers from the night before, sitting across the table with his own tea as he watches you trying not to scarf down his food like a wild animal. He gently prods at the fact you look hungry, and your clothes hadn’t been washed in a while. He even pointed out your shoes (that were functional even if they were mostly duck tape at this point). You almost laughed when he asked you if you were safe at home, leaning forward clear worry in his eyes.

You did your best to spin a good believable story, based on small bits of your past, that you knew you looked rough but thankfully you have someone close to help you get back on your feet. You don’t think he buys it at all but he doesn’t press or pry further instead talking about the area since you were going to stay close by. He talks about his kids, his youngest off to college and how he isn’t used to an empty home.

Even though you came here under false pretenses you find yourself enjoying talking to him. He’s the right mix of goofy dad and gentle concern that made it damn near impossible to say no when he offers a shower and clean clothes. You don’t have to of course, he does understand why you wouldn’t want to, but he’d feel so bad if he didn’t at least see if he had a better pair of shoes to wear.

So you cave, taking the offer of a shower and fresh pair of clothes. It’s not like you planned on staying afterward. He manages to find a pair of boots that fit and gives you some used but sturdy clothes to go along with it.

He doesn’t fight this time when you say you have to go, instead offers you one last cup of tea. After everything you can’t find it in yourself to say deny him the last small thing.

You’re not sure what happened but when you stood to finally leave, your legs folded under you and you woke up in a spare room. He fusses over you and asks if should call your relative or anyone to watch over you until you’re healthy again. Stuck in your lie you, agree to stay just until (he’s convinced you to stay) you’re back on your feet again.

[k1ng-r0wan]

(Logan is the wife, LOL)

Has anyone recreated this meme with Wade? Idk, but I have now, lol

Guess this is my Wade Wilson birthday art now (actually didn't know it was his birthday today until I saw other people's posts here)

The OG image is below the cut

[merakiui]

thinking about a concept in which your parent and step-parent are going through a bit of a rough patch in their relationship, so in order to resolve this tension, keep you and skully (mostly) out of it, and hopefully return with a stronger bond, they decide to live in separate spaces for the time being while the idea of divorce is constantly whispered about. you remain in the city with your parent and your step-parent takes skully back to their hometown—that little, misty town in the mountains and trees. the one where all the eerie folklore and stories skully adores comes from. the one with such a small population that you often tell your friends at school it's "that weird cult town."

well, (un)luckily for you, your parents want you to have an amicable relationship with your stepbrother. so when the winter holiday comes around, they make plans to ship you off to that weird cult town so you can spend the next two weeks shacked up in the woods with your step-parent and stepbrother. and skully will get to return to your home come summer break! the whole arrangement feels much too complicated, and at this point you just wish your parents would stop trying so hard and divorce already. :/

but there's no getting out of it, so you pack your bags and are shipped off to the place you've not-so-affectionately dubbed Cult Town.

you've actually never been here before. when your parents first met, it was in the city and so you've only ever known the rush that is city life. but everything is considerably slower here in a comfortable sort of way. there's no hurrying after taxis or packing yourself into a crowded train. it doesn't smell like the city either. also, the internet connection is horrible. you spend your first few minutes in this town trying to get proper reception while you wait to be picked up. it's only two weeks, though. you're certain it will go by quickly.

skully is…still strange. you were never really close when you lived in the same house. he kept to himself just as you did, but right now he’s immensely welcoming. he carries your bags, offers to show you around town, and seems so pleased you've come to visit for the holidays. your step-parent notes he spent an absurd amount of time cleaning up the guest room just for you, but skully just flusters and babbles about how it's only right to treat a dear guest with hospitality. there's even a vase of pretty flowers waiting for you on the bedside table when you enter the tidy room.

you're not very thrilled to be here, but you content yourself with the fact that it's only two weeks. skully has a long list of things he'd like to do with you while you're here. you're not sure what you can possibly do in a town this small other than look at the same trees and meet the same townsfolk over and over, but anything's better than boredom.

you fall asleep in that old, creaky cabin that never seems to settle, and your dreams are filled with macabre imagery. claws scraping at the door in angry, jagged crisscrosses, as if something wishes to get in. frostbitten corpses frozen in permanent poses of agony. a faceless, shapeless monster lurking in shadows. and cold. so much cold. snow. ice. frozen lakes. you even wake cold, shivering even though the blankets are thick and warm. it's too quiet and too dark when you look out your window. no civilization in sight unlike in the city, where there are plenty of people and buildings and traces of humanity.

out here, the people hardly use their phones and it feels so old-fashioned and it's cold.

skully doesn't like it when you talk about divorce. he's still hopeful that your parents will mend their frayed bond and then you can all live under one roof again. :D you can only roll your eyes: "they're basically divorced already. maybe not legally, but definitely physically and emotionally." skully frowns at that, refusing to argue your point further. when you continue onwards down the dirt path, bundled in a woolen coat and wrapped up in a scarf (a gift from skully), you miss the way his expression sours. the way his orange eyes cloud over.

skully tells you they find bodies in the woods all the time. accidents. murders. suicides. "a forest is like an ocean," he says conversationally while the two of you stroll parallel to a dense treeline. "sometimes you happen upon things that just don't belong. things you don't expect to find in the vastness."

that night, you're tossing and turning again. your sleep schedule has been a wreck ever since you came here and you're almost certain this cabin is haunted because you keep feeling sensations that aren't there. like a whisper of breath on your neck or a hand on your cheek. and something's moving around in your room or beneath your bed or just outside the door at night. something from the forest, maybe? a monster? one of the many restless spirits left to wander aimlessly, never to know peace? you bring it up with skully the following morning: "do you ever feel...watched?"

he smiles around a mug of hot chocolate. "of course not. we drive malevolent spirits away every halloween. there's nothing that can bother you here. aah, if only you could have been here during halloween. it's simply wonderful! you must come next year."

somehow you aren't satisfied with this response, but skully's sliding a mug your way and suddenly any thoughts of local haunts disperse from your mind.

supposedly, chamomile tea aids in sleep. hoping to get at least one good night's rest while you're here, you purchase some from the market with skully when you go on a grocery run for your parent. "there's something so beautifully quaint about shopping together!" he notes, perusing a stall of various winter fruits. "it's very intimate. wouldn't you agree?"

"sure, i guess," you reply with a shrug, not quite understanding the point he's trying to make. maybe that's exactly the point: you're never going to understand him and his unusual ideals. "but isn't that why people spend quality time with one another?"

skully beams and plucks a frostbitten flower from a nearby bouquet, tucking the beautiful blossom behind your ear. "we have similar thoughts, you and I."

do we really?

you make yourself a cup of chamomile, bundle up in the warmest sweater you packed, and drink in front of a crackling fire. skully's sat at the kitchen table, scribbling away in a book and humming to himself. you asked him about it before and he told you it was "a catalogue of daily musings. nothing of great importance." you wonder what he writes about in there... probably stuff about how wonderful jack skellington is, a figure revered in this little cult town. you've never heard of him, but he seems interesting from what skully's told you.

miraculously, you drift off in the armchair, and you sleep through the night, enveloped in sweet, sugary warmth. your dreams are pleasant, too. it's the best night's sleep you've ever had.

skully asks if you like it here. his definition of 'like' is very different from yours, but you decide to humor him anyway. "it's a fine town," you say even though just the other day you were trying (and failing) to text your friends about how unsettling this place is. how life here is just so different from the city. you can't explain it, but if you stay here any longer you think they might accuse you of being a witch next with your city slang and fancy technology box (phone). "the atmosphere and the town are both very cute. it's like a little dollhouse when it's all dressed up and festive like this."

"what a flattering description! as expected, you view the world through the eyes of a poet, seeing loveliness in every little thing," he praises, holding his hands over his chest and swooning.

you feel just a little lovelier now that your sleep schedule is fixed, so you're inclined to agree.

usually, the chamomile knocks you out for the entire night. this time, though, you've awoken to a ghost. you crack your eyes open and slowly but surely shake the heavy sleepiness off. something's on top of you, holding you down in bed, their fingers cold and bony like the ones in your nightmares. you shift slightly, and the ghost freezes, still and silent as death. in the shadows, a pair of eyes search for your face.

a mouth at your ear. something stiff prods at your thigh. "shh," the ghost murmurs. "go back to sleep."

somehow you do. you feel warm again, cradled in the fluffiest of dreams. there's an encroaching coldness, though, a frigid draft threatening to creep in. you sleep through it. you'll talk to skully about it tomorrow.

maybe some ghosts aren't banished during halloween.

maybe some ghosts are made of flesh and blood.

[yb-cringe]

is this anything

[upgradeurlosersoftware]

"... god these fucking hurt.. where's my painkillers-"

[bloop-bl00p]

“Fîls de joie” What Poison could have been.

TW: Mention of Sexual Assault, Sexual Abuse, Rape, Drugs, Addiction, Manipulation, Mention of Fetish and sex in general, mention of Sex works, Raphielle II don’t go harras him and respect his pronouns

I’m trying to be a writer and I understand writing about taboos and controversial things is difficult. I only write about what I know which is the effect of emotional and physical abuse and religious traumas. Notheless if I’m trying to do something out of my domain of expertise I’ll research it to respect the concerned part of the audience.

Vivienne Medrano said that people who’ve been sexually abused helped write episode 4. Part of me wants to believe it, it’s most likely true, it’s the best thing a writer can do, let knowledgeable people help and not just rely on sites about psychology. But, with how rape and assault are presented sometimes it really feels like she’s lying.

Angel Dust is the only character whose abuse is presented as serious.

Stolas kept belittling Bliztø and kept talking dirty even when the Man was in danger

You cannot tell me that he couldn't hear the gunshot through the phone, in this scene, he keeps making his disgusting speech. Blitzø was practically forced to make the deal as he wasn't in a situation where he could process his thoughts clearly since he was trying to survive

And it was a joke.

Angels Dusk kept harassing Husk throughout the series but he never once apologized. Yes, it stopped after Looser Baby but he should have a mindful conversation with Husk and genuinely say sorry about his behavior.

“It starts with sowwy🥺” What’s the point of having this song if the characters don’t follow through with the lesson?

Those scenes were mostly jokes.

And I haven’t mentioned Sir Pentious getting dragged while being drunk in a sex room, or Moxie being kissed by Succubus despite mentioning he didn't want any of that.

AAaaAaaaAh look at these men, being uncomfortable because they are touched and talked down despite verbally addressing their discomfort! That hilarious!

I want to believe she cares, I’m a fan of these shows, I know it doesn't look like it but I’ve been hooked since the Pilots. Not only was I disappointed at the final result but I was also shocked to learn Medrano is simply just an asshole with too much money in her bag.

Poison failed where Fîls de Joie succeeded:

Before reading any of what I wrote you should listen to it, there are English subtitles. And honestly, it's a good song on its own.

What’s the context of Fîls de Joie?

A sex worker died and her son is holding funerals for her. You can guess it with the wordplay in the title, Fille de Joie (Girl of Joy) is one of the many ways to say prostitute in French. Fîls (son) de Joie is a way to say that he’s the son of a sex worker.

While sung by the same man, you can notice that Stromae gives us four POVs in the song, the son in the chorus, a client, the pimp, and a policeman.

Everyone besides the son is a hypocrite and relatively an asshole. But even if those verses are self-centered and a pathetic attempt from these men to bring sympathy to themselves, despite never hearing the story directly from the Woman, you can guess exactly how her life was and you sympathize with her. It tells us a story, her story.

This woman was a good mother, and it shows how much the son insisted on leaving her alone, speaking proudly of her despite acknowledging her flaws, and even repeatedly calling her a hero.

But HEY! (But HEY!) Leave my mom alone Yes I know, she’s not perfect, it’s true She’s a hero (She’s a hero) And I will always speak of her with pride

The client is trying to be excused from his actions by stating he’s lonely and addicted to it.

Being alone is not easy And it’s been years since my last time

The hardest part, well, it’s the first time And now what’s hard is to decide when the last time will be

But he’s also verbally violent even stating that as long as he got the money he could pretty much do everything to her.

Maybe this time around we can do it with me insulting her. Yeah everything is negotiablе in life, if you got the money And after all, I’m probably her best customer

With that alone, you can probably guess that it’s not the only violent client she had but she has to endure it because she needs money. Considering that she has a son it’s probably to support his education or something related to her well-being and his.

Then comes the pimp, he brushed off all of his misdeeds by saying he gives them shelter and food and should be grateful for it.

Why does everyone hate me? I’m the one feeding them Their lives would be way more mediocre. Without me, their lives would be shitty

Not only that but his good actions are not for the sake of it, he should have his part of the deals. He doesn't want them to feel like princesses eventually calling them hookers in a very dehumanizing way.

That has a price, Missy. Well duh, in this life, everything comes at a price. Nobody ever told you? They say I’m guilty of human trafficking But 50, 40, 30 or 20% is not nothing

They better not delude themselves and think they’re models Ladies—or should I say: hookers!

Not only does this woman have to endure constant violent behavior from her clients she barely gets enough money despite being the one at work, receiving either 50% or even 20% of what she actually gained. The rest goes to an egocentric pimp that only sees her as merchandise.

While we can technically understand where the policeman is coming from, he’s just doing his job, he’s making a mistake apparent in the other’s verse but much more evident in his.

He doesn't see her as a human.

I know that it’s your job But I gotta do mine, don’t I?

Take back your ID and what’s left of your dignity You’re pathetic, pfft Find yourself a real job!

This song doesn't tell us the story of a prostitute but the story of a financially struggling Mother who juggles between abusing clients and a society that only focuses on the top of the iceberg, the fact that she’s selling her body.

Stromae tries to appeal to our compassion and teach us that it’s important to understand why someone will go their way to sell sex for a few pennies. And rather than rejecting them, we should help them.

Another thing I like about the clip as a whole is the Military. They don’t have a Belgian or French uniform but they wear multiple of them to show that this dehumanization isn’t linked to one country but it’s global, every countries and cultures take part in it, and it needs to be fixed.

What does Poison tell us?

Angel got stuck in an abusive situation and was forced to do sex work for his pimps, it focuses more on the sexual assault rather than his life.

He obliviously regrets his choice resulting in him blaming himself for getting into such a messy situation. A situation he’s seemingly addicted to despite himself, he knows it’s bad but he can’t help it.

What's the worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself

You're feedin' me poison Addicted to this feelin', I can't help but swallow. Up your poison

The poison can also be a metaphor for the drugs he seems to take directly from Valentino’s brand. A drug he either takes himself or is forced to inhale.

He uses the same substance to forget his situation and numbs the pain while also putting on a false Sex-addicted mask to convey that he’s fine and stay on Valentino’s good side. A direct consequence of his abuse is his addiction and his hypersexuality.

I got so good at bein' untrue I got so good at tellin' you what you wanna hear I disassociate, disappear

At the end of the song he’s waisted, traumatized, and finally breaks down as he finally has a short time to process everything that happened. Because here’s the thing, Poison is a fantasy, it’s a mask he puts in to forget the emotional and physical weight that was put on him, hence why it’s so flashy and pretty. The few glimpses of Angel being visibly distraught show that all the parts where he isn't are him disassociating.

See I can analyze stuff and I totally understand what they were trying to do with it but the difference with Fîls de Joie is, that we didn't know the life or personality of The Mother and we learn it through the song.

Angel Dust and Valentino’s relationship is highlighted throughout the shows and Poison doesn't add anything new to the table. The song is POINTLESS. Husk already looked at us and told us that Angel Dust being sexual was a whole persona he puts in.

You can say that the song humanized him since he was basically the “AaahaAH SEX” character but the locker scene already did and… I don’t like the story behind the making of it, why you ask?

Because Vivienne let Raphielle’s work affect her writing.

Visually speaking I believe you can present a disturbing concept with equally disturbing imagery, I understand that the point was to make you uncomfortable and the Dance sequence was Angel Dust disassociating while what was happening was displayed on the screen.

But… can someone explain why they let the work of someone blatantly fetishizing Angel and Valentino's relationship leak into the final product? I don’t even care that Raphielle or Vivienne have a nonconsensual fetish but we can all agree that his content depicting the two men will be inrentently for gooning purposes right? Or am I crazy for saying that?!

Okay, I wanna be clear, Raphielle can do everything he wants what I care about is that his fetishistic content was referenced in the shows.

→ Here’s one of his works. Go at 2:45 if you wanna skip the sexual stuff

→ Click here for more proof

The idea of Angels Dust being “sexy” while his image is projected on screens is from Raphielle II, his work is for sexual gratification but Medrano still referenced it despite Raph being pretty vocal about it.

And that’s not all.

Yes, Vivienne, it’s great marketing to make a cum joke about visuals displaying rape. Because in case y’all forgot all of the sex scenes in the clip are non-consensual from Angel Dust's perspective.

Am I supposed to believe that this woman cares when not only she has a double standard only showing rape and sexual assault as a whole in a bad way when it comes to her favorite character?

Am I supposed to believe that she cares when she associates herself with a fetishizer and references his work in her show?

Why did Stromae managed to make me care about an unnamed fictional dead woman in the spam of 3:57 when she just irked me in 20 minutes with her so-called “well done” representation of sex workers?

Is that really what people call a realistic presentation? How does someone manage to fumble so hard on every aspect of the series, I’m starting to believe that Hazbin Hotel is just rage-bait with the lack of respect she puts into it.

That’s all for me if anyone wants to add anything, the comments are there.

[butterflyriley11]

I want to be c0ke skinny 😩

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (14)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out, hurt/comfort, implied/referenced gang rape/non-con, non-graphic rape/non-con, non-consensual drug use, sexual violence, physical violence, vomiting, food poisoning.

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 8k

← Previous Chapter (13) | Next Chapter (15) →

⚠️‼️WARNING!!! TRIGGERING SCENES AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS ABOVE!!! ⚠️‼️

*****

Jungkook woke up feeling wet kisses splaying on his face. He begrudgingly opened his eyes, neck stiff because of his unforgivable sleeping position across your bedroom door.

"Mornin' Kookie~," 

"Hmm?" Jungkook blinked. His brain had yet to catch up on what was happening, but his blurry eyes could already make out the tiny figure of his son.

He saw Soobin waving his little hand and smiling down at him.

"Soobin?" Jungkook blinked. Soobin beamed at him in response, prompting Jungkook's sleepiness to be washed away. He unconsciously wrapped his arms around Soobin's body to pull him closer.

"Kookie, hello!" 

Jungkook winced when his son embraced his neck and tried to climb over his shoulders. It's true that children had the energy of Olympians. Jungkook wasn't able to protest when Soobin decisively climbed his shoulder, using it as a foundation to reach for the doorknob.

Soobin didn't hesitate. With a twist, the door flew open.

Shit.

Jungkook was caught off guard. He was leaning on the closed door, so he and Soobin fell sideways when it opened. Thankfully, he immediately caught his son and protected his head from colliding on the tiled floor.

Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief. That was close. Hell would break loose if you saw even a small bruise on Soobin's skin.

"What's wrong with you two?" Your voice sent shivers down Jungkook's spine. Speak of the person, and they shall appear. His decelerating heartbeat spiked up again at the sound of your pissed-off voice.

Jungkook was forced to flick his gaze on you. He was surprised to see you on the ground. 

You appeared to just have been woken up, too. You scratched the back of your head and yawned.

"Did you sleep on the floor near the door?" Jungkook couldn't help but ask. He sat up and helped Soobin get on his feet, wanting to check if his son got injured. But before Jungkook could do so, Soobin was already jumping into your arms.

"Ma!" Soobin pulled at your neck, visibly making you cringe. It solidified Jungkook's conjecture that you also dozed off on the floor.

However, you vehemently denied it.

"Soobin, no hugging for now. Your Mama got a stiff neck from sleeping against the door."

"I did not sleep here!" You growled at Jungkook as you fought a yawn. This was in contrast to how softly you whispered to Soobin to lay low with the hugs.

Jungkook dramatically gasped, acting all scandalized. "It's not good to lie in front of your kid, you know~."

For some reason, Jungkook was in a good mood. You, sleeping on the floor and against the door, hinted that you weren’t as unaffected by what had happened a few hours before. You probably listened to Jungkook's speech with your ears against the door.

Perhaps you went as far as almost opening the door for Jungkook—this was dangerous wishful thinking, though. Jungkook had to force himself to shake the thought away. There was another way to see if you intended to allow him to stay.

Call him selfish, but Jungkook wanted to test that theory. He licked his lower lips, eyes ogling at you, who was unconsciously mumbling that your neck only hurt because you cracked it the wrong way.

"I know how to relieve stiffed necks." Jungkook started before trailing off. He couldn't stop himself from staring at your neck.

Jungkook forced himself to clear his throat.

"Do you want me to massage your neck?"

The thought of physical contact would make you recoil if you were disgusted by an ex-convict. Jungkook's hands were clammy. It was his idea to test the waters with you, but it didn't mean he wasn't nervous. He had only developed the habit of smiling, joking, and thinking about sexual stuff when things were making him anxious. It was his coping mechanism.

A few seconds had passed now. Jungkook was half expecting you to reject him, already content with the thought of feeling your neck pulse.

At least you were alive, Jungkook thought. You were alive and near him. This should beenough. You also hadn't explicitly told him to go, so he could—

"Alright."

Jungkook's train of thought paused at that. He didn't know if he ever whipped his head so fast it felt like it almost snapped.

He didn't care. Jungkook had to look at you and confirm if he heard you right:

He did.

"You can massage my neck later." You carried your son and stood up. You unconsciously purred when Soobin kissed your cheeks and requested omurice for breakfast.

You looked pointedly at Jungkook. "You heard your kid. He wants to eat. Chop, chop, Kook."

You didn't wait for a response and just went straight out of the bedroom and to the kitchen.

Jungkook breathed out, suddenly feeling hollow. But in a good way. The anxiousness filling his heart was emptied.

He smiled to himself. Omurice sounded good for breakfast.

***

The neck massage was scheduled another time even though your neck was stiff now. Blame it on your phone, which had been ringing nonstop.

"It's the team." You rolled your eyes, though one could see that you weren’t annoyed. It was more of a fond gesture.

It was lunchtime now. Your breakfast went well. You and Jungkook dropped Soobin off at the daycare. The kid's schedule was packed since it was the school's foundation day. Jungkook didn't want to leave Soobin alone, but the teacher advised that kids Soobin's age should learn how to adjust and be more independent.

You had no choice but to drag Jungkook away from the school premises. You had other things to do, anyway. Your beeping phone was one of your agenda.

"The team's calling to know if you've accepted our job offer."

Jungkook stopped licking his ice cream in a cone, head twisting to look at you to see any sign of mirth.

You were dead serious. You furrowed your brows at Jungkook. "What."

"Nothing," Jungkook bit his ice cream until his teeth ached. "I just thought you've retracted the offer."

"Why would I do that." You frowned and offered Jungkook a tissue. What a disgusting asshole. His hands were covered with melted ice cream.

Jungkook took the tissue to cover the sight of his trembling lips. He wanted to throw the ice cream as he couldn't bear the cold. However, he didn't have the heart to waste food. He was constantly reminded of what he had to endure as kids threw ice cream at him while wearing the clown costume.

Those days felt like a lifetime ago, yet Jungkook was still here. It didn't change the fact that he felt like shit.

"You read the paper I handed you," it wasn't a question. Jungkook knew you knew of his past now. There was no way you would stay still after knowing that the person who babysat your son used to be in prison.

Frankly, even until now, Jungkook was waiting for you to drop the news to him—that he would have to leave sooner or later. You showed mercy earlier, but who's to say you wouldn't change your mind?

"I didn't." You surprised Jungkook by this admission. You squared your shoulders and snatched the ice cream cone from your best friend. You threw it in the trash can. Jungkook was about to protest, but you shushed him.

"You look stupid trying to finish that ice cream. You should have thrown it away if you didn't want it." It was Soobin's dessert in the first place. The kid handed it to Jungkook earlier before you left. Soobin thought his father wouldn't miss him so much if he had ice cream with him. "And wipe your goddamn mouth and shut it, will you? Don't look too surprised that I didn't read the paper. I told you I was shocked and needed time, but you didn't exactly give me time to process shit with your cheesy line last night."

"I'm sorry." Jungkook's cheeks heat up. He dodged your gaze, but it didn't take long for him to look at you again. You were scoffing at him.

"Now you're actin' all shy? I'm telling you now, bastard. If what you said last night was shit, I swear I will fucking—"

"It's true." Jungkook cut you off. "I mean it."

It was only then that Jungkook noticed your frozen body. Your shoulders sagged in relief upon hearing Jungkook's confirmation.

"Good." You held your head high, "Because I'd rather hear the truth from you than that paper. Do you still want to have dinner with me?"

"Lunch." Jungkook looked at the wristwatch you had gifted him. You had time before Soobin got off school. "Let's have lunch. In our usual place."

Jungkook realized he didn't want to bare his heart out in a fancy restaurant where people acted all stiff and fancy. He wanted to be in a safe and familiar environment where he knew there would be no judgment on whatever he did. No one would eavesdrop as everyone was busy in their own world.

It's the ADA. Jungkook hadn't been here in years. Many things had changed, but sadly, the one thing Jungkook hated the most remained.

Natsume--the fortuneteller who sang his prediction, was still in business. Jungkook met Natsume's teasing gaze. He started playing his guitar, ready to piss off the brunet. Luckily, you had come prepared. You immediately pulled Jungkook inside the ADA restaurant.

"I warned you earlier that Natsume still sings. You said you don't mind." You gave Jungkook a warning look. "Don't fight him. We didn't go here for that. You have a responsibility to me."

Jungkook clicked his tongue and wriggled out of your iron grip. He sighed, "Fine."

You chose a table far from the window. You couldn't have Jungkook distracted because of Natsume. Thankfully, Jungkook didn't talk about the fortuneteller anymore. He looked deep in thought. Jungkook wasn't sure where to start. The paper he gave you last night was the summary of his criminal case. Jungkook envisioned you reading that paper and bombarding him with questions.

The thing was, you were feeling generous to him. You didn't immediately go straight to questioning, opting to order food first. You didn't have to ask Jungkook. You knew he liked crab spring rolls. They were perfect with a bottle of soju.

You almost ordered the alcohol but stopped when you remembered Jungkook didn't drink anymore.

"Let's not drink. Soobin is fussy when he smells alcohol." You thanked the server after he placed your order. What you said to Jungkook was an excuse and the truth. Your son would scrunch up his nose whenever he got a whiff of your favorite wine. Jungkook knew of your intention. He smiled nonetheless.

"You're a good mom," Jungkook said sincerely, and with a quick snap, he broke the chopsticks apart to start eating the complimentary edamame. It felt nostalgic to eat this, giving Jungkook the illusion that you two were high school students whose only worry was how to earn money. 

Your lives were way more complicated than that now. You could never go back. You had Soobin and other things to consider when making decisions.

You weren’t sure whether to nod or shake your head. You settled with a subtle cough.

"I try to be. It wasn't easy at first..." You trailed off and shook your head. "Anyway, there were lots of challenges. You're doing better than me. Soobin warmed up to you fast."

Soobin liked Jang Min and Lee Sung, though it took him some time to get used to meeting up with them. But with Jungkook, things were different. You wondered if it had something to do with their biological relationship.

Jungkook couldn't use that fully as an excuse. He thanked the server for bringing in their food before answering you. "I told you before, didn't I? I've experienced handling kids."

You briefly remembered that as you felt your neck turning crimson. Jungkook had a phase where he was obsessed with getting you pregnant. You never really got the chance to know where Jungkook's fetish started. It was his cue to tell you how things started.

With a warm meal before you two, Jungkook told you how he messed up his life.

Nine Years Ago, 2014:

The thought of dropping out of university had been on Jungkook's mind for a long time, though he never gave it much thought.

That was until Jimin asked Jungkook to accompany him in social work. Jungkook didn't get it at first. Jimin was his promising senior who talked money as Francis, his business-minded boyfriend, greatly influenced him.

Jimin recently graduated college, but he was still in touch with Jungkook. As his hubae, Jungkook looked up to his Jimin-hyung. The latter usually talked about improving life, and that was all Jungkook wanted.

He longed to give you a life where you wouldn't have to struggle. You could pursue whatever studies you wanted without having to think about money.

Money talked, so Jungkook didn't understand why Jimin wasted his time entertaining illegal immigrants. It was on the outskirts of Incheon. These foreigners lived underground with their families. Jimin and some other kindhearted people visited them to feed them and offer them some minor work to get them through one day's meal.

Jungkook frowned at this. Jimin was just starting a small business. He often asked for help from the immigrants to run his business. Jungkook thought Jimin was better off with other people who were far more competent than these illegal settlers.

Jungkook didn't even want to be here. Jimin urged him, saying that if Jungkook really wanted to be business partners with him, he had to first see the kind of work Jimin was doing.

Jungkook didn't think interacting with these immigrants would convince him, but his perspective changed when a kid clung to his leg.

The kid was very small and obviously malnourished. He didn't seem to understand the danger his body was in. A carefree smile decorated his lips.

"Hyung, thank you." The kid's teeth were black and yellow. In normal circumstances, Jungkook would subtly kick the child or say something to make him go away.

But something in this child's smile softened Jungkook's heart for some reason.

"You and the other hyung there help my mom earn money!" The kid pointed at Jimin, who was busy talking to a woman. Jungkook figured that the woman was probably this kid's mother.

"We haven't eaten in days. I thought we'd have to get beaten up first."

"What?" Jungkook was taken aback. He was sometimes mean, but he didn't go around hurting people. What did this kid mean when he mentioned getting beaten up...?

The kid showed his bruised arms; he didn't have to explain for Jungkook to understand what was happening:

The kids and the people living underground were exploited. 

Jungkook clenched his jaw. The memory of younger you working in a bar lit up in his head, making him clench his hands into fists.

The indignation that abruptly clogged his veins was too much to bear, acting like a big block stopping his heart from beating.

His vision doubled. It was too much. These kids had gone through so much at a young age.

Just like you.

"I'm sorry." Jungkook dropped to his knees to look at the kid in the eyes. It was not fair. This kid was still smiling despite life being cruel to him. He didn't understand why the innocent had to suffer when far worse people were walking this planet.

"Why?" The kid caressed Jungkook's hand on his cheek. "You saved us! We want to thank you!"

After the kid said this, the other children went up to hug Jungkook. They kept calling him hyung to offer their thank you. Jungkook couldn't accept their gratitude, knowing that this was Jimin's work.

Their pleasant smile should be directed to Jimin and not him. However, when Jungkook looked at his friend, Jimin stood there, offering him a small smile and encouraging him to appreciate this moment.

Jungkook's heart throbbed painfully in his chest, and when he cast his gaze back at the kids, the pain he felt subsided, and it was quickly replaced with pride.

Jungkook smiled with only one thought in mind: I will make these kids proud.

Present, 2023:

You always knew Jungkook was closed off. He was not the type of person who would share personal experiences like this. When Jungkook told you before that he would drop out of college, you thought he was making a mistake—that he was blinded by money and pride. You never knew Jungkook's catalyst to venturing with Jimin was those kids.

The children made Jungkook want to do better, but it was also them who became his downfall.

Six Years Ago, 2017:

Things had already escalated, so Jungkook was forced to retreat to a corner, his back pressed on a cold wall with no way of stepping back.

He fucked up.

He fucked up so badly with business the same way he fucked up with you when he slept with your Jisoo-unnie.

There was no room for regret after that night. Not when he didn't have time to process things. Jungkook had to rush Jisoo to the hospital when they woke up naked on the couch.

Jisoo couldn't breathe. She was vomiting blood. The doctors said it was anxiety and her sickness acting up. Jisoo was advised not to do strenuous activity. Their tacit agreement to relieve their agony was more harmful than helpful.

Jisoo was in a daze. Looking at her made Jungkook's stomach cramp. The silence was suffocating him, too. Jungkook knew how to butter her up regarding business, but outside you, their pain, and Bighit, Jungkook and Jisoo didn't have much in common.

They were strangers who loved the same person and shared similar problems. What happened last night changed it for the worse.

Jungkook couldn't handle it anymore. He spoke.

"I'm gonna tell her."

The braid of promise from last night was combed just like that. Jisoo slowly turned her head to Jungkook, her eyes dead, and her lips were parted slightly.

Jisoo didn't say anything. She simply cupped her stomach before gently lying in bed. She turned her back to Jungkook, sick of his face already. She got what she wanted.

Jungkook sighed. He stayed in Jisoo-unnie's room for hours until he got the signal from the nurse that Jisoo could go home.

Jisoo didn't want to go home. There was no going back now. Not for Jungkook, though. He had problems he had to face, so he went home.

His home no longer felt safe after what he and Jisoo did. Jungkook couldn't bring himself to sleep, the panic and grief catching up to him every time he closed his eyes.

He avoided you like the plague, thinking that things were better off when he was alone. After all, you wouldn't understand what he was going through.

You hadn't met those immigrant kids. You didn't know what Jungkook and Jimin were fighting for. Most importantly, you didn't know what it felt like to be on top and to suddenly fall from grace.

Jungkook could almost taste it: the venom in your voice when he told you his business with Jimin had failed. He could imagine the ‘I told you so’ look painting your eyes. He could also imagine you telling him he should have just stuck to university.

Jungkook didn't really want to see you. He didn't want to see and hear about yourdisappointment in him.

But Jungkook ended up hearing it—only that with a different reason. Jungkook wasn't expecting you to show up at Bighit’s board meeting. He underestimated your capability to get what you wanted. It never occurred to him that you would buy Ango's share just so you could legally attend the meeting.

It was ridiculous. At that moment, Jungkook thought you had come to rub salt in his wound. Why else would you show up there? There was no reason for you to buy a losing share. Jungkook knew you. You would never bet your money on something risky. You didn't even want to invest in the Bighit in the first place. You only did so to appease Jungkook after your previous fight from before.

When you showed up at the meeting, Jungkook made himself think that you had bad intentions, so he hurt you first. He told you he slept with your Jisoo-unnie just because he didn't want to hear you talk shit about Bighit’s downfall.

He thought his belief was warranted because when things truly started going down, you were nowhere to be found.

It was all good at first. Jungkook thought it was better this way. Because more than anything, and despite Jungkook being fucked in the head for betraying you, Jungkook wanted you safe and worry-free. This was why he and Jisoo sought solace in each other's body. They didn't want to involve you in a mess.

In their own fucked up way, Jungkook and Jisoo loved you.

Jungkook never heard from you again after confessing his betrayal. He tried to reach you, but the case of Bighit was beyond saving. Jungkook, along with Jimin, was facing the consequences:

"When will Mushitaro arrive, Jimin-hyung?" Jungkook's skin felt itchy. The unforgiving cold wall rubbed his body, only proving to him that their current predicament was truly pitiful. He and Jimin were both grown men forced to be cramped into a small jail cell. It smelt rotten here.

Jimin couldn't do anything to appease his friend, though. He scratched his skin and was also getting agitated by the overall atmosphere of the place. "I'm not sure, Jungkook-ssi."

Three hours had passed since the police officers arrested Jimin and Jungkook. They were two different people, but Jimin said they would be having a joint lawyer. Mushitaro, their chosen representative, had yet to arrive after Jimin contacted him earlier. The law enforcers refused to let them call again.

Jungkook was antsy and feeling aggrieved. Though Mushitaro was representing him too, he still had the right to call someone—you. It was unfortunate that the officers were treating him like shit. Jungkook couldn't complain. This wasn't like the last time the police invited them over. They had an arrest warrant now, leaving him and Jimin no choice but to have their hands cuffed. It had been a few days since their last board meeting. Their other board members flew out of the country, but it didn't matter. Almost all of Bighit’s operations were handled by Jungkook and Jimin. They couldn't escape liability even if they wanted to.

This was made clear a few hours later when Mushitaro finally arrived. The lawyer knew what he was doing. Jungkook and Jimin were transferred into a much bigger room, and they were given a cup of cold water to cool down.

Jungkook normally kept his cool. He was a manipulator at best. Surely, he had thought of a way to get out of this mess. Unfortunately, the laws were difficult to circumvent as Bighit’s operation extended to illegal immigrants.

"Piercing the what?" You interrupted Jungkook's storytelling when you didn't understand the legal terms. Jungkook was at the part where he was repeating what Mushitaro had told him years ago.

Jungkook took a bite of his crab spring rolls as he responded to you, "Piercing the corporate veil."

You struggled to listen to him. Jungkook explained that companies usually had limited liability, meaning that their obligations couldn't be passed down to their board directors and stockholders. In short, if the assets of the company reached zero in value but still had some liabilities, the creditors couldn't run after stockholders like him and Jisoo.

However, with the piercing of the corporate veil, the general rule would not apply. Jungkook and Jimin were going to prison.

"The probability of Jimin-hyung and I being convicted at that time was high. That's how piercing the corporate veil works. We are both board members who oversee the operations of Bighit. We can't argue that we don't know what's happening in our company when our signatures are mostly needed in our transactions."

Jimin's boyfriend, Francis Fitzgerald, was also a board member of Bighit. Francis was a certified public accountant, so naturally, he dealt with the company's financial statements. Unbeknownst to Jungkook and the others, Francis used the company's money for his own gain and concealed the fact that the Bighit was incurring debt.

"But why are you affected by it? Isn't it solely that son of a bitch Francis' fault?" You questioned. Jungkook's chest heaved as he repeated to you what Mushitaro had said. This whole thing was still painful to talk about, but:

Generally, Jungkook and Jimin were not liable since corporations like Bighit, weren't similar to partnerships where the board members had a fiduciary relationship. Jungkook might not be the one who orchestrated the fraud, but he concealed it after finding out the truth.

You scoffed at this. But in Jungkook's defense, he and Jimin only concealed the fraud because they were trying to protect their employees.

Bighit was a business process outsourcing organization. The people they hired to take calls and be in the customer service department were the same illegal immigrants underground. Jungkook and Jimin wanted to give these people a chance at living, so they helped fake their documents and hire them.

They were good at their jobs. Jungkook never hesitated to give them a profit share and higher benefits, especially for their retirement fund. Fitzgerald embezzled the money that was supposed to be for the employees. Even their legal reserves that weren't allowed to be used or to be distributed were gone.

Jimin signed documents and trusted the auditors Fitzgerald hired. Meanwhile, Jungkook blindly followed where Jimin was going. He was getting billions of money in the beginning, so he didn't mind. What more could he ask for, knowing that their employees and their families were basically worshipping Jungkook?

When things started going downhill, Jungkook was caught off guard. He was imprisoned with Jimin, and all his assets had been frozen. Mushitaro did his best to defend them, but this was a case that enraged the public. He also couldn't milk enough money from his clients so in the end, he did the bare minimum just to have the case closed.

It was difficult. Mushitaro was being harassed by Bighit’s employees too. Most of them were deported, while the other went into hiding. They threatened the lawyer to pass their messages to his clients, saying that they wished Jungkook and Jimin to both rot in hell and that they made their lives worse. They were doing okay underground, but now they couldn't even spend time with their deported family members, and they were hiding much stricter under the police's noses.

The employees said they wanted their backpay and promised retirement funds. Once, Jungkook was visited by someone in prison. The police officer said his visitor went by your name, so Jungkook cleaned himself up for the first time in days and immediately went to see you.

But you were nowhere to be seen. Jungkook came face to face with a Bighit employee instead. No one knew how the immigrant managed to bring a knife with him, but he did. He was raging when he slashed Jungkook's eyes with a knife.

The officers were quick to seize the immigrant while some of the guards went to attend to Jungkook. He was obviously shocked. He covered his eye, feeling the blood trickling down his hand. He heard loudly how the immigrant cursed and told him to die.

That was the beginning of Jungkook covering his eye with a bandage and the hell he'd face in prison.

"Wait." You grabbed your best friend's hand to get him to stop talking. It was all in the past now, yet you couldn't seem to take it. You also had too many questions.

"Y-You went to jail after I flew to France? Where..." You stuttered a breath and trailed off, feeling your heart clench tightly in your chest. Your ramen had gone cold now. You didn't have the stomach to eat it. All you could think about while looking at your spicy red broth was the blood cascading down Jungkook's eye from before.

Regret poked at the pit of your stomach. You wanted to vomit, but you couldn't. This wasn't about you. It was about Jungkook. You bit your lip and forced yourself to ask, "Where was Jisoo-unnie...? She....she didn't help you?"

Didn't she tell you I was gone? Despite leaving and not wanting to deal with bullshit, you made sure to leave traces so that Jungkook and Jisoo would know where you went off to. Sue you for being a hypocrite, but you were desperate then. You wanted your best friend and sister to see you thriving in spite of their absences in your life. You were pretty sure Jisoo managed to find your address in France because of the clues you left.

You hated your sister, but at the same time, you craved her validation and longed to see the pain in her eyes as you hurt her back.

Why didn't Jisoo tell the convicted Jungkook about your whereabouts?

"Jisoo-noona and I never talked to each other again after...." Jungkook didn't complete his statement, yet you understood it. After we betrayed you. Their last proper conversation was when Jungkook told you that he slept with Jisoo.

They didn't exactly talk at the hospital when Jungkook brought Jisoo there. However, Jisoo showed up at Jungkook's door a few days after you left. She brought a bottle of wine and soju.

Jungkook resolutely refused the offer, almost slamming the door in the older woman's face.

"I can't, Jisoo-noona," he held the doorknob tightly. "I'm not going to drink anymore." Not after what happened. Not after we fucked up. Not in this lifetime.

Jisoo understood what he meant, though she still deflated. Her pain was too much. Her body felt like deteriorating. Her chest was hollow. She begged, "We're not going to do something stupid, Jungkook. I'm just lonely. My little girl isn't answering any of my phone calls."

She had the audacity to get sad after what she had done, but Jisoo was just human, after all. She couldn't take the separation from her sister. She missed you despite everything. Talking to Jungkook gave Jisoo the illusion that you were still within reach.

Jungkook couldn't deny it, either. He missed his best friend, too, but he knew he messed up. He had a lot on his plate right now and couldn't be bothered to carry more burden and guilt by hanging out with Jisoo.

Besides, Jungkook knew his free days were numbered. He couldn't keep involving your sister in this mess, so days after his arrest and that immigrant slashing his eye, Jungkook wrote to Jisoo. He told her not to visit or associate with him as many of Bighit’s employees were indignant with him and would lash out at anyone close to him. Jungkook also told her to extend the same explanation to you.

Jungkook wrote to you every day, yet he didn't get any response. He assumed you really didn't want anything to do with him anymore. It was both a relief and a shame.

Despite everything, Jungkook continued writing to you. It wasn't to get you to visit him or anything. His days in prison became slightly bearable every time he let out his emotions through his letters.

The messages were mostly nonsensical—at least, this was how it started. Jungkook would reminisce about your moments together, tell you about his life in prison--how he was coping with his Jimin-hyung there, and how much he missed you.

Jungkook thought it wasn't that bad until he started receiving letters from people underground. The immigrants were still feeling resentful toward him and Jimin. They detailed how worst their lives had become after being deported. Those who were hiding in South Korea managed to hide their identity, but the blame and pressure were palpable in their letters.

Even the kid who clung to Jungkook’s legs before sent him an alarming message:

My mother hanged herself. I alone now. Blame you giving false hope. You break me. The letter was written childishly. The kid forced himself to write in Korean despite knowing too little about the language. Jungkook took the letter to heart. He couldn’t sleep nor eat. And it wasn’t like there was something to fill his stomach with.

New prisoners were treated like garbage. Jungkook spent his days two cells away from Jimin. He got away from the immigrants wanting to hurt him, but the people in prison were much worse.

“You stink,” Jungkook’s cellmate spat on his face. He hadn’t eaten in two days, his mouth smelling like rotten fish and acid. Jungkook managed to get a small cup of miso soup by massaging the kitchen head’s feet for two hours. Unfortunately, Jimin didn’t know how to navigate a life in prison. He was too righteous, igniting the anger of most prisoners. He wasn’t given any ration, so Jungkook set aside his hunger and gave Jimin-hyung the soup.

“Pardon me, boss.” Jungkook didn’t wipe the spit on his cheek and just bowed his head obediently. “I’ll stay in the corner, but you can call me any time you need something. I will do anything for you.”

It was the lowest of the low, but Jungkook had to swallow his pride. This person he called boss had a lot of food stash. He was quite popular in this place. Many prisoners tried to curry favor with him. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to please him. People like him got an ego boost whenever they thought they were being worshipped. True enough, he clicked his tongue and threw a KitKat bar to Jungkook.

“Eat that for now. Come sit with me at the table during lunchtime. Ya gotta eat, your breath will kill me.”

“Thank you, boss.” Jungkook ate half of the chocolate and saved the other half for Jimin. The boss shook his head disapprovingly. He thought Jungkook was stupid. He used the little money he had to buy papers so he could write a letter for someone outside the prison, and yet. The boss shook his head one more time, and yet he never received a response.

“I didn’t receive any of your letters.” You interrupted the storytelling again. “Where did you send them? How…” How stupid are you to think I could ever bear to see you suffer? Do you really think it would take me more than two letters to respond to you? But you didn’t say any of this. It would break Jungkook’s heart more. You changed your question, “What did you write to me?”

Jungkook didn’t have any appetite anymore, either. But reminiscing his life in prison made him want to stuff all the food before him in his mouth.

“I was told you got my letters.”

Life in prison started to get better when Jungkook started buttering up Fukuchi—the boss, though he had to face some initiation at first.

Jungkook couldn’t refute anything. He was tired of deep diving in the sea of the prison’s garbage truck just to get him and Jimin something to eat. Jimin joined his food-searching quest, but he wasn’t much of a help.

“You’re making this harder for me, Jiminnie-hyung ~ Can you just sit there and watch out for the prison guard, hmm~?” Jungkook maintained his sweet tone in spite of his exhaustion. He had to remind himself that Jimin-hyung was hurt; hence, he couldn’t move fast. His cellmates had beaten him up again. They said they didn’t like the way Jimin looked when they admitted to using his toothbrush to clean the floor. His cellmate's exact words were, “You should be thankful we’re cleaning our space with your damn toothbrush. Aren’t you acting all pure and shit? Your saliva is our holy water. Save us, Saint Jiminnie.”

The precious nickname Jungkook made up for Jimin was now tainted. They laughed and kicked Jimin when the latter told the officer what his cellmates did to his toothbrush.

Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to tell Jimin to just let it go. But at the same time, he felt like Jimin-hyung should have known better than to fight those idiotic cellmates of his. He was both frustrated and empathetic toward his friend. All he could do for Jimin was search for some food on his behalf.

Thankfully, Jimin listened and watched out for guards as Jungkook swam in the sea of garbage. He found a half-eaten pudding and handed it to Jimin.

“It’s expired,” Jimin said. They weren’t in the position to be picky, so Jungkook only beamed at him.

“I haven’t met anyone who died because of expired food. Come on, Jiminnie-hyung.~ That would do.” Jimin was on the verge of passing out. His face was pale, and his lips were chapped. He needed to eat something. With a few more coaxing from Jungkook, Jimin finally swallowed the expired pudding.

He felt a little better for a while, but Jungkook had terrible luck—his words were jinxed a few hours later. Someone from Jimin’s cell banged the gate, calling the officer’s attention to report Jimin’s state.

“Heyo! Anybody there? The blond lad right here is dyin'. We don’t want his rotten corpse in here. Help!”

Jungkook jolted awake at that. He desperately stuck his head on his cell gate, hoping to see Jimin-hyung. His action was for nought, so he helped bang the gate to get the officers’ attention, too. Fortunately, the guards appeared and were able to bring Jimin to the hospital. Jungkook would never forget the image of his friend curled into a ball while clenching his stomach. He was vomiting as he got food poisoning from eating the expired pudding.

It was a blessing in disguise, though. Jimin was able to eat slightly better food at the hospital. Jungkook swore he would never let his friend suffer again. His choice led to some drastic consequences, but he couldn’t care less:

He sought Fukuchi’s protection for his and Jimin’s sake. The initiation was hell. To Jungkook’s horror, even the correctional officers licked Fukuchi’s bottom. Everyone turned into a slave when money and power were involved. They did not bat an eyelash when Jungkook ran around the prison hallway. A group of prisoners chased after him while the others stayed locked up in their cells, watching menacingly through the crack of the gated cell how moronically Jungkook ran.

Jungkook was in the shower room. He slipped and fell because of the wet tiles marred by mold. The prisoners caught up to him. They dragged Jungkook’s already fragile body to the ground.

"Don't make trouble." Someone pressed Jungkook’s face to the floor until he couldn't breathe properly, and then he felt that person grabbing his hand, his fingertips caressing Jungkook's wrist. "It'll hurt more if you resist."

The brunet felt the syringe sinking deep into his skin. It hurt at first— but soon, it only tickled. His heart started beating so loudly that he thought it would burst inside his ribcage. His vision was doubling, too, but the euphoria pumping through his veins made him lose his inhibitions. Every emotion was amplified. Jungkook giggled when someone took off his pants, spreading his legs wide until he felt a police baton sinking deep into his hole.

Jungkook screeched. There was blood everywhere, yet the prisoners did not stop. He lost count of how many times the syringe corrupted his bloodstream. Every hole of his body (his ears, nose, mouth, and even eyes) was coated with the sticky liquid coming from those men.

His body was painted with nasty teeth marks. The shades of blue, purple, and green were such a sore in the eyes that Jungkook had to cover his body with bandages even after months of the attack. It fucked him so badly, but he could only swallow his grievances for his and Jimin’s sake.

At least now, they were not treated like trash. They had full meals now, and Fukuchi grew more satisfied with Jungkook’s mind. One day, Fukuchi introduced him to someone outside the prison.

“Lee Sung.” The outsider offered his hand for a shake. Jungkook was forced to accept the greeting. Lee Sung was a sadist at heart, though. A blade was hidden in his palm. It slashed Jungkook’s skin when they shook hands.

“You look alive. Aren’t you using the dead apple?” Lee Sung let go of the brunet’s hand, acting as if he hadn’t just caused Jungkook’s hand to trickle down with blood.

Jungkook was unfazed. He gently wiped his bloodied hand in his pants. He lied through his teeth, “Well, someone has to be sober for this, don’t you think, Lee Sung-ssi~? We can’t all be Snow White.”

‘Dead Apple’ was the drug injected into Jungkook on the day of his initiation. The effect of the drug was unapparelled, bringing the user into a different universe because of the ‘high’ feeling. It was called Dead Apple because the users would often lose consciousness or act like hypnotized zombies who would do your bidding as long as you hit something inside of them. For example, Jungkook saw Jimin through rose-colored glasses, so one of the prisoners who injected him with Dead Apple pretended to be Jimin and Jungkook, under the effect of the drug, fell into this pretense and didn’t question whatever those men did to him. It was only after some hours after the assault did he come back to his senses. 

Coming to his senses didn’t necessarily mean he would forget the assault. He remembered it all too well, and nothing—not even the unadulterated euphoria would convince Jungkook to try it again. He associated that drug with his loss of freedom and more hatred for his already wretched body. One could call him a hypocrite because despite knowing the deadly effect of Dead Apple, it did not stop him from letting other people have access to it.

Life, especially in prison, was not like a fairytale. The initiation he had to be part of Decay of Angels—Fukuchi’s group, wasn’t enough to prove he was worthy. Jungkook had to strategize to keep Fukuchi’s business prospering. He was in charge of thinking of ways to supply the other inmates with drugs while making sure the higher-ups would not suspect a thing. Some officers were part of this scheme, but not all of them could turn a blind eye. Truthfully, Jungkook had been devising plans to get the officers already in this plan to keep supporting them.

Fukuchi soon realized how essential Jungkook was to this whole ordeal, so from being a chess piece, Jungkook was promoted to king. He had the privilege now to meet members of Decay of Angels who were not in prison.

Lee Sung was present at this meeting. He was tasked to get a feel of the king in prison. One look and Lee Sung already knew Jungkook was dangerous. Lee Sung had to find a way to break him.

“And how does staying sober benefit the Decay of Angel, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook tilted his head as he raised his hand to show his five fingers, “Five percent.”

Lee Sung was quick to snort at the number. Fukuchi came to the rescue, “Lee Sung, I know it sounds insignificant, but do note that Jungkook-ssi right here has been in this game for only a few days.” He also explained that the officer who had been eyeing the Decay of Angels had been transferred to another jurisdiction, all thanks to Jungkook’s effort.

Now, the drug dealing in Incheon was much more free. 

Lee Sung finally looked pleased because of this. He jutted his chin out, “Very well, then, Jungkook-ah.~ Just tell me what prize you want, I can give it to you.~”

Jungkook jumped into the offer at once. He wrote a name on a piece of paper and handed it to Lee Sung. The latter laughed, thinking that Jungkook wanted someone killed. That could easily be arranged, but the brunet was enigmatic. Lee Sung never would have thought that someone could be this stupidly sweet.

“Consider it done,” Lee Sung stood up and saluted. Sometime later, Jungkook received a letter from Gogol. It contained printed photos of a kid smiling while holding hands with his adopted parents.

Choi Yeonjun. Did you like his new name, Jungkook-ah? The bottom of the letter said.

Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief. The kid who clung to his leg was okay now. Jungkook couldn’t stop with just this, though. Every time he did something for the benefit of the Decay of Angels, he would ask Lee Sung to grant him the favor of helping the previous employees of Bighit. Unfortunately, his efforts were not enough. He slowly incurred a lot of debt to Lee Sung. The latter said it wasn’t his money. It was his boss who lent Jungkook the money.

The death threats toward him and Jimin lessened, too. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Jimin. He confronted Jungkook about it, knowing well that his friend was behind this. Jungkook had always been one step ahead of everything. Sadly, he was not one to make rational choices.

It was easy for Jimin to figure it all out. Jungkook would sometimes joke that Jimin could see the future, therefore giving him the ability of flawless. “Your conjecture has always been flawless, Jiminnie-hyung~!” Jungkook used to tell him.

It wasn’t any different now. Jungkook was being treated like a God in prison these days. He had the privilege to sit beside Fukuchi, and Jimin was not blind not to see the rampant spread of Dead Apple. In fact, one of his cellmates offered him to try the drug. Jimin firmly refused. He easily connected the dots, and when his conjecture had truly become ‘flawless,’ he then confronted Jungkook.

“This is dangerous, Jungkook. You have to stop.” Jimin was not one to resort to violence, but he couldn’t help but grab the younger man’s shirt and slam him against the wall. “You are dealing with illegal drugs, for Pete’s sake. Aren’t you afraid? You only have a few months in your sentence. Don’t make a decision that would harm you.”

I’m doing this for you. Jungkook wanted to shake Jimin. I’m doing this for the people who used to believe in us. I can’t abandon them. You said they’re important to you. I just want to make you happy, Jimin-hyung.

However, vulnerability and truth didn’t sit well with Jungkook. He wriggled out of Jimin’s grasp. “Just trust me, Jiminnie-hyung.”

Jungkook was in too deep. He needed to pay his debts to Lee Sung’s boss, save some money for himself, and start all over again. Their sentence was only reduced because the Decay of Angels paid some of his dues. They were billions of yen as their case impacted the Korean economy.

Jungkook wanted to reclaim his life and maybe…maybe see you again.

You still hadn’t responded to any of Jungkook’s letters, but he didn’t plan on giving up. He tripled the letter he sent, hoping that you would find it annoying and finally reply to him. He would take anything from you, even if it was just pure hatred.

Everything would be okay in no time. He would be out in prison with Jimin soon, so he smiled at his friend, thinking that Jimin understood him.

Except that he didn’t. 

Jungkook had no one else to blame—

Only himself.

He should have known Jimin wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. He wouldn’t blindly trust Jungkook when the well-being of other people was involved. It didn’t matter if they were prisoners. Jimin wouldn’t want these people to harm themselves more.

Jimin was righteous. He couldn’t just watch Jungkook destroy himself and the others, so he did what he thought was right: he told a police officer about the drug scheme in prison.

What a joke.

Did he really think he could make a difference? The police officer nodded along with Jimin, even escorting him to where he could report such a crime.

Jimin sighed in relief. He thought he could sleep well that night, but he couldn’t.

Jimin wasn’t escorted to report the crime. He was stuck in the giant walk-in freezer in the prison’s kitchen.

At five twenty-four in the morning, Park Jimin was found dead. 

********

A/N: Hello. It's been almost a month since I last updated. I hope you still remember this fic ~~

I know this chapter is upsetting. :(( I'm sorry, there might...? be more to come.

Also, a little update: life is being a total bitch to me. I have a hard time adjusting at work, and would sometimes use the little free time I have to just cry. It was a public holiday in my country last Friday and this coming Monday, but being in accounting means having no break. I still need to work :// My health is being compromised lately as I am working the night shift. It's super stressful because almost everyone around me keeps saying that I am losing too much weight. I KNOW it already :((( anyway, I'm rambling. Please tell me your thoughts about this chapter.

If you feel like dropping this fic, please do so! But please be kind in the comment or don't tell me at all.

Thank you ~~ See you next time! (Hopefully soon, but damn it's quarter close next month, so I will probably be busy waahhh)

Got more suggestions about the tag/warnings? Feel free to tell me. The goal here is to be more mindful.

[serickswrites]

Edge

Warnings: captivity, restraints, drugging, implied noncon

Whumpee was on the edge of unconsciousness. Whumper always kept them that way with whatever drug Whumper kept injecting. Every time Whumpee felt like they were regaining their faculties, Whumper cooed in their ear, kissed down their neck, and stabbed a needle into their arm.

"Oh darling, you are such a fighter," Whumper said one day as they stroked Whumpee's cheek. "I do so love that about you."

Whumpee wished they could fight back. Or they wished Whumper would just knock them out. They hated being awake for what Whumper did after the kissing. After the touching. They hated being awake and aware of every thrust of Whumper's body, every move Whumper made with them. They just wanted to disappear in those moments.

Tears leaked from the corner of Whumpee's eyes as Whumper kissed down their neck. They had been thinking about someone else's kisses. Someone else's touch. Caretaker. They loved when Caretaker kissed them, held the, and was with them. They couldn't help but think of Caretaker as Whumper touched them. If they had to be awake, maybe they could disappear somewhere in their mind. "C-Caretaker," they whispered as they screwed their eyes shut. They couldn't help themself.

"Oh darling," Whumper smiled down at Whumpee, "forget about them. They've certainly forgotten about you."

Whumpee screwed their eyes shut. "N-No." Caretaker would never forget them.

"It's only you and me now, darling. And I'm going to enjoy every moment of it." Whumper leaned down and whispered the last in Whumpee's ear, nipping at the shell of Whumpee's ear. "And maybe you will, too."

[muzgozjeb]

[iianian69]

quick drawing i made this morning because i thought. scout would go insane while high. like he would not stfu

[thehammerhorse]

I had this idea that Toki would force Magnus to hang out with him and Rockso.

This is my first time drawing Rockso so be nice about it lmao

Line art wip under the cut