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turtletaubwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 24

Just a Little More Pretending

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 4.2k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: The party has started, but you are adrift. Can you keep pretending with proof of your lovers' betrayal standing before you?

Author's Note: ⚫ !! IMPORTANT TW !! ⚫ We have had quite a bit of blood and pain in this story so far, but this chapter contains the use of a knife during sex. I have bracketed that section off with these symbols ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ and you won't miss the story if you skip it! There's aftercare and more smut after that section, so PLEASE DO NOT READ if self harm, knives, or blood may be triggering for you. EXTRA NOTE: This series is about villains, and was always meant to have blood and violence. I won't be able to section off everything, but I know how triggering a scene like this one can be. Please skip it, and know that you are not alone!! 💜

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Grief, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Masturbation, Blowjobs, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Pain Kink, Knifeplay, Blood Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

~~~~~~

“I don’t believe you were on the guest list, Mr. Sylvad.”

Mihawk’s cold, dangerous voice didn’t make sense. Lies. Pretend.

They sold me.

“My apologies,” Uncle Cedrick charmed. Your body turned to ice while he held your hand limply, as if he’d forgotten you were there. “Ambassador Siggins was called away for a last minute family emergency, and he was gracious enough to offer me his ticket. I’ve been looking forward to visiting with my dear niece, and meeting her esteemed employers. Perhaps we can share a nightcap after the party? I’d love to–”

“Get your fucking hands off of her.”

Some wicked part of you felt a thrill at the sight of Uncle Cedrick’s eyes going wide with fear. Your body and mind hadn’t decided on what to feel, or trust, or give a fuck about anymore, but you instinctively put yourself between your uncle, and the seemingly furious ex-warlord whose hook was inching closer to him.

“Don’t make a scene. They’ll all turn on you, and you’ll never make another berry for the rest of your lives.”

You felt the violent stillness from both of the domineering forms at your sides, but neither moved.

“Always so shrewd, niece,” Uncle winked, his breath shifting back to his confident ease. “Besides, you know I never travel without insurance. If I’m not back safe on my ship to make a certain call at a certain time, then my location will be leaked to sooo many friends. You know my friends, don’t you, smarty?”

“I know,” you breathed, voice low while you fought to swallow every horrible feeling flooding your body.

“Of course you do,” he gloated, pulling his hand away before touching your face when he glanced at the men beside you. “You were always so smart. See you inside, dear.”

“Rabbit–”

“Sweetheart–”

“Don’t cause a scene.”

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

“Was it really necessary to cause a scene? The other tavern had much better wine.”

“I didn’t cause the scene,” Shanks smirked, leaning in close while he teased. “I just beat up the asshole that did. No one messes with my friends… Besides, if you drink enough of the cheap shit, it gets the job done.”

Shanks laughed when Mihawk rolled his eyes in a very different way than he planned on making him later. He walked his fingers across the bar, but the swordsman pulled his hand away before they touched.

“Well, Red Hair,” he challenged, a tiny smirk making Shanks’ breath catch, “how many bottles will you be bringing up to the room? How many will get the job done?”

“How many can you carry,” Shanks rasped, eyes glued to that pretty mouth.

~~~

Shanks was grinning.

Mihawk was trying not to.

How many years? How many times had they ended up like this?

And how many more times would he fucking beg for it?

“Please, daddy,” Mihawk whined, “need…”

“Tell me,” Shanks chuckled, digging his nails into Mihawk’s skin while he gripped his face. “What does my slutty, little boy need, huh? You gonna be a greedy whore? Gonna beg me to do so many, filthy things to you?”

“Please–”

“Knew it, you selfish brat,” Shanks scolded, shoving the side of Mihawk’s face against the wall. “What are you gonna give Daddy in return?”

“Everything, please,” Mihawk begged. He tore off his clothes while Shanks kept his face pinned, these moments with the red haired pirate being the only times he didn’t give a fuck about where his clothes landed. “Take everything, daddy, take–”

“Such a desperate whore for me,” Shanks hummed, an evil grin on his face as he released the other man from his grip. “Tell me what you want, and I might be nice. If I think you deserve it.”

Mihawk’s eyes rolled back, the wicked promise in Shanks’ voice giving him so much pleasure and comfort, he didn’t know what to do with it. He fell to his knees, pleading.

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

“Make me bleed,” he begged, pulling a knife from his pile of pretty clothes. “Please, daddy. Take my blood, let me–”

“My little freak,” Shanks huffed a laugh, following his friend to his knees. “How would you live without me?”

“I– fuck!”

“My pretty boy,” Shanks purred, dropping the bloody knife so he could smear all that red across Mihawk’s perfect chest. “This what you needed?”

“Y-yes, p-please,” Mihawk shook, back arching while he twitched, his eyes rolling white.

“Need your daddy to hurt you?”

Mihawk was shivering, whimpering, moaning when Shanks showed off those red fingers.

“Poor thing. Let me give my little freak what he needs.”

There was nothing like this.

“Such a perfect body, and you want me to rip it to shreds?”

“Gods, yes. Pleeease.”

Shanks would never have thought to do this with a lover, but Mihawk was hypnotizing. How could he not give him what he craved when he begged and whined for it like this? When the “Marine Hunter” would debase himself, would do anything Shanks asked him to, just to feel this?

“Tell you what, selfish brat,” Shanks taunted, just starting to ghost the tip of the blade along Mihawk’s skin. “Lay down, let me watch my little pain slut jack himself off, and I’ll keep ruining this pretty chest of yours until you come.”

Shanks gave a pleased laugh, deep and dark, while Mihawk fell to the floor, his back arching as he let out a pathetic, needy moan.

“Not gonna last long, are you,” he challenged. “Prove how much you want it, whore. Don’t stop touching yourself, or you won’t get any pain at all.”

“Yes, daddy,” the swordsman breathed, getting to work.

Beautiful.

Shanks paused for just a moment, stunned again by his powerful rival turned friend. Stunned by how wickedly perfect he was. Stunned by how much he wanted him. He’d almost forget just how much every time they drifted apart again.

“Da—“

“Don’t be impatient,” Shanks purred as he teased the blade down Mihawk’s side. He hummed at the twitching, near panicked body he had so much control over. “Tell me what you are.”

“I’m your pathetic slut, daddy’s whore, your— fuuck, Shaaanks.”

Mihawk could barely see with his eyes fluttering and rolling, but he caught that look on his friend's face.

Shanks was fucking glorious, the power he exuded like sweet poison. The swordsman would never let another touch his skin with a blade, would never admit this weakness to another soul. Yet, Shanks… He was perfect. Beautiful. Strong.

And he controlled him so well.

The teasing scrape of the blade turned to unreal pleasure as it pressed into his skin. Mihawk didn’t know why he was like this. Didn’t know when it started, but he didn’t fucking care.

That sharp sting of the knife slicing down, and the heat of the blood he could feel tickling along his skin, had him coming in his hand within the same breath. He bucked and moaned as ropes and ropes of come covered his stomach, his chest, the column of his throat.

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

“You did so well,” Shanks rasped, leaning down to taste the weak whimpers and whines still lingering on those lips. “How’s my pretty boy doing?”

“I…” he tried, breathless, with the hint of tears shining in his golden eyes. “Thank you, daddy.”

“You know I’ve always got you,” Shanks promised. He breathed those words along Mihawk’s skin, trailing soft touches, and teasing nails across that magnificent, painted body to bring out more delicious sounds and shakes. “Just relax, baby. Breathe for me.”

Mihawk couldn’t understand. Couldn’t believe the pleasure that Shanks gave him. That he let Shanks give him. There was no one else he could trust. No one else he respected. No one he wanted…

“Shanks…”

The red haired pirate chuckled at Mihawk’s reaching fingers, kissing the man’s temple to soothe that tension.

“Don’t rush, bright eyes. Just feel good for me. We'll get you cleaned up in a bit, then you can show daddy how grateful you are.”

Mihawk could never admit that the weak sound that left his throat was a sob, but he stopped caring when Shanks kept touching him, kissing him, dragging nails down his skin, just enough to make him moan.

He’d never felt safer.

~~~

“Look at you.”

Clean and bandaged, with his black hair still damp from the shower, the swordsman’s breath caught at Shanks’ hushed words, at the way he watched him crawl across the small bed.

Those brown eyes were too soft. Mihawk shivered under that gaze before he found what he was looking for.

“Just like that, baby. So good for me.”

The praise made him dizzy, dizzier than the swollen cock he’d licked and teased before swallowing deep, his watery eyes still locked on the soft, brown ones above him.

“I love it when you do that,” Shanks hummed when Mihawk massaged his balls, still taking that veiny shaft down his throat, so fucking deep. “Such a good boy for daddy. I’m close, keep those lovely eyes on me.”

Mihawk moaned around his cock, and Shanks couldn’t handle the look on his friend's face. He fisted that damp, black hair, and took control, just like his swordsman needed. Fingers gripping tight, demanding, taking and taking as he shoved that pretty face up and down his cock like a beautiful toy.

“Fuck yeah. You love being daddy’s little whore, love taking everything I fucking give you, huh?”

The pleasure of the new pain sent the swordsman to blissful twitching, not caring if he choked, wanting it, wanting to be used.

“Fucking take it. Take daddy’s come, show me how much— fuckin’ hells. You feel so fucking good. Swallow it all like a good boy.”

Those soft eyes and those desperate eyes stayed connected, fighting against the instinct to thrash, to writhe, to look away. They stayed connected until Mihawk’s throat took every last drop of Shanks’ pleasure, the giving and taking between them like another spar, a dance between too-friendly rivals.

“Come here,” Shanks purred, his lovely smile making the swordsman feel the urge to frown. Instead, he moved to sit against the headboard with his friend, hoping the barkeep was still downstairs so he could book another room to sleep in.

The safety Mihawk had felt was dwindling fast, being replaced by the need to leave, to pretend he hadn’t let himself be so weak.

But he supposed a few more minutes of resting by his red haired rival wouldn’t hurt.

~~~

Shanks felt light, almost high, when Mihawk crawled up the bed to lean against him. He was staying. Staying still for once. The red haired pirate let his fingers travel along that perfect skin covered in new and old scars, taking in Mihawk’s intoxicating scent. Taking in every feeling he tried not to carry when they were apart.

“Hey, Hawk?”

“Mm, what is it,” the swordsman drawled, fighting with the exhaustion that was trying to convince him to stay.

The red haired pirate didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to risk losing his courage, so he pulled away just enough to look into those golden eyes.

“I love you.”

Mihawk thought he must have fallen asleep, but it was too real. The scent of their bodies. The sting of the wound on his chest. Those gorgeous, soft eyes.

“Please,” Mihawk laughed. The cruelty in his own voice felt like a storm he couldn’t stop, only watch as it tore through the world. “Love is boring.”

“What?”

Shanks tried to keep that lightness. To pretend he wasn’t hearing this, wasn’t watching those cold eyes go deadly.

“Don’t be boring, Shanks,” Mihawk sighed as he pulled back. The safety he’d felt was a lie, ripped away. He couldn’t think, couldn’t take in whatever that look was on his rival’s face. He just needed to leave.

To be alone. Safe.

“Hawk,” Shanks breathed, staring at the swordsman while he pulled on those fancy clothes. He brought his shaky hand to the sheets, focusing on controlling his breath, his heart, so that his friend wouldn’t hear just how fucking deep he’d wounded him. He didn’t want to feel this, just wanted to shove it down.

“See you next time, Red Hair.”

Shanks couldn’t shove it down. The door closed, and every good feeling he’d ever had seemed to rush out of the room with it. Every good feeling he’d just had in this shitty room turned tortuous as he tried not to suffocate in it. Every word, every touch, every look in those golden eyes.

“Fuck…”

The red haired pirate managed not to yell, not to destroy. He managed not to leave this inn to find another at the risk of running into his friend. He managed to finish all of those opened bottles on the floor while he tried not to choke on the painful heat in his throat.

Shanks managed to drink enough to blame his tears on the liquor, and to lie to himself that he was fine. That he would get over it.

He’s heartless. A pirate without a fucking crew. Dracule Mihawk isn’t capable of love. I should have known he couldn’t love me.

He can’t love anyone.

Those thoughts weren’t as comforting as he wanted them to be.

Mihawk’s thoughts were not as clear as he needed them to be. Not as calm, not as empty, not as safe.

The way he’d fled that room, and avoided that hurt gaze, made him fight to keep steady.

What was he thinking? Ridiculous. Idiotic. How could we even—

Not even worth entertaining. Boring.

Mihawk ran from the feelings within him just as he'd run out of that room, out of that tavern. He ran and shut the door, pretending that it meant nothing.

He stuffed every thought of it away. Every thought of those soft, brown eyes away until he forgot what it was he was truly running from.

Something that couldn’t be real, and could never be safe.

Mihawk could never risk feeling safe.

He could never risk the idiocy, or the blindness, of something as boring as love.

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

“Welcome, welcome, fine guests, to the Cross Guild’s very first gala affair,” Buggy’s voice boomed, bright and shining on that small stage while he addressed the gathered crowd. “Before our main event, we’ll enjoy a delightful dinner accompanied by the flashiest show you’ve ever seen.”

Buggy winked for the crowd, yet even though you knew it was really for you, you couldn’t feel a thing. Just the ice trailing down your spine.

“For now, please help yourselves to the hors d'oeuvres, enjoy an aperitif, and dance, before we all make too much berry on wicked things.”

Your clown was a bit more reserved than his usual shows, with a mesmerizing lightness to his movements, his body floating just slightly within his clothes. Yet he’d dialed up his dark charm, the tantalizing danger that so many of these bored, high society leeches were hungry for. Just enough to titillate, not enough to scare them away. Buggy had listened to your notes, adjusting his act just enough to still be his, yet still appeal to this privileged group. The excited buzzing of the vultures around you told you that he’d hit his mark.

Galdino nodded at you as you scanned the crowd, his eyes flicking back to watching the select group of pirates they’d deemed appropriate guests to not frighten away the potential backers.

Part of your mind was in work mode, going over every detail, deciding which asshole to shmooze first.

The rest of you was gone. Shaking. You could feel his stare.

Uncle was smirking at you over his drink. He wasn’t paying attention to the leeches at his side that were trying to bask in his glow as if the Sylvad wealth could rub off on people.

They sold me.

“Dance with me, little rabbit.”

Mihawk bowed his head a bit, those dangerous fingers reaching for yours. There were only a handful of couples on the floor, and your employers weren’t supposed to touch you.

He sold me. He’s throwing me away just to line his pockets. Never real, just pretend.

Uncle Cedrick’s charming laugh carried over the music, finally giving the other guests some attention. You could still feel his eyes.

“I’m a terrible dancer.”

“You don’t need to dance,” he smirked, taking your hand in his before leading you toward that gleaming floor. “I’ll do all the work. Just let your body listen to mine. I know you can do that, rabbit.”

Mihawk didn’t give the tease his usual force. It didn’t knock you off your feet, but it was enough to make you sigh, relaxing your shoulders just a bit.

“Breathe with me, love,” the swordsman soothed, and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting as his hypnotic voice washed over you. “No one else exists. Nothing else exists. Just our bodies, our breath, and the music. Will you believe that with me? Will you dance with me, darling?”

“Okay,” you whispered, your body shaking for him now.

Just a little more pretending.

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🔴🐊🔴~~~

Shanks was haunting the corner bar, downing his third aperitif, and trying to ignore the stares he kept getting.

Oh, yeah. I’m Red Haired Shanks.

He chuckled to himself before returning his focus to her, watching Hawk treat her like she was precious, watching him care for her, dance with her. Yet her eyes were still empty.

Y/N. It’s my fault she’s… I thought I was such a good man. So fucking egotistical—

“Red Hair,” came a gruff voice, accompanied by the thud of a golden hook onto the pretty bar top.

“Sir Crocodile,” Shanks replied, still watching her. He finally glanced over after a too-long pause, surprised to find the larger man looking almost pained. “What’s going on?”

Crocodile didn't want to do this. Didn't want to say this.

He wanted to gut this man, then suck the life out of him until all that was left was his stupid, red hair.

I don’t want to be a monster to her. Not to them.

“Will you protect them,” he choked out, forcing the painful words past his lips. It felt like admitting defeat, and his body raged against it. “Will you take care of them?”

Shanks forgot to breathe from the shock of what he thought he’d just heard.

“What—“

“If they choose you, I won’t stop them. If you swear you’ll take care of them, all of them, then I won’t stand in your way.”

…

Crocodile almost lost it, almost reached for the man’s throat. Hesitation was fucking unacceptable.

Shanks felt like he’d plummeted to the bottom of the ocean, dark, heavy thoughts drowning him in a silent death.

This monster, this villain, cares enough to let them all go.

What does that say about me?

“I swear. I’ll protect them. I’ll care for them. I’ll—“

“Good,” Crocodile snarled, holding himself back like a wild beast. Like a monster. “Y/N’s uncle crashed the party, and she won’t let us kill him yet. I’m gonna put you at his table. See what you can find out about him.”

Shanks went to stand from his stool, all those words not fully registering. He stumbled just a bit, and Crocodile let out a vicious growl.

“For fuck’s sake, are you drunk already?”

“Not even close,” Shanks sighed, steadying himself. He couldn’t seem to find his balance in this upside-down world.

“Get your shit together. If you show me you can’t protect them, then I won’t care what they want, I wont care what I want, I’ll just fucking kill you.”

“What do you want?”

Shanks stared up into that frightening face, and couldn’t understand. Couldn’t believe.

“I want them all to be safe and happy. Don’t make me regret trusting you.”

Crocodile felt like his organs were boiling with the need to end this man. To end this man that was taking what’s his. He stared down into stupid, brown eyes, grinding his teeth against his rage.

“I want the same thing.”

“Then prove it,” Crocodile spat, leaving Shanks to sway.

Buggy…

I have to tell him.

The Emperor of the Sea floated through the crowd to sneak backstage again, hoping he could figure out the next right thing to do.

Hoping he could prove it.

~~~🐊🔴🐊🔴~~~

~~~~~~

“You look absolutely enchanting tonight, love.”

“There’s no need to brag about your work.”

The tease left your lips like a miracle, and Mihawk’s eyes filled with that lovely mix of annoyance and pride that you seemed so skilled at drawing out of him.

“My vicious rabbit is always stunning, even when I don’t get my hands on her,” he teased back, still perfectly guiding your body along the dance floor. “Though I certainly enjoy the honor.”

You barely heard the satisfied hum he let out when you shivered, yet his voice was still too much. His voice was a drug, just like his eyes, his scent, and his wicked, wicked fingers.

Mihawk was pleasure, seduction, desire. The pain he added to that intoxicating mix only made you crave him more. He made you feel so many things. Hard things. Soft things. Addictive things. Your eyes fluttered as you fought to stop thinking this way about the man that sold you.

Just for daydreams. Not real.

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Perfect.

She’s perfect.

Mihawk wanted to kill every single soul in the room, just so he could hear only her. Hear only her lovely heart, beating against his. He could hear it all, but he needed more, needed her.

He needed to keep that spark in Y/N’s eyes. His breath had caught at that glimpse of her, at her brave, little tease. That attitude he ached to punish and praise, and never go a day without hearing.

Everything. Mihawk wanted everything with her.

“Little rabbit?”

“Mhm?”

The world’s greatest swordsman was bested by this strange, lovely girl. The effort, the bravery it took to keep going was almost insurmountable.

“I’m not pretending.”

Y/N stiffened at those whispered words, and his hands had to control her, carry her even more, forcing her body to follow his dance.

“Please…”

“I know I don’t deserve you, but I’ll do anything, darling. Anything to watch you. To watch how your beautiful mind works, to see you be fierce, to hold you when you’re tired.”

Mihawk felt high. He’d finally forgotten the rest of the world existed. Nothing but Y/N in his arms.

Now that he’d started, he couldn’t seem to stop. When she rested her cheek against his chest for a moment, Mihawk almost fell to his knees. She breathed him in before showing him that tiny spark of her, still burning behind those beautiful eyes.

“You’re not tricking me,” Y/N questioned, her voice hesitant, wounded. It tore his insides to shreds to hear her in pain. To know that he’d been the cause. “You didn’t sell me?”

“Rabbit…”

Why didn’t I see what she was before? She believes I could… would I have?

Guilt almost stole his breath, his courage.

“I am so sorry, Y/N. There are no excuses for a villain like me,” he breathed, lost in her, needing her. “You have taken me over. The thought of losing you…”

“Mihawk?”

His name on her tongue. Lovelier than the rarest of wines. The only thing he wanted to hear.

“I don’t care what you decide, rabbit. I will follow you anywhere, if you would have me.”

The swordsman couldn’t read her. Since she’d fallen apart, Y/N had become impossible to understand, impossible to decipher, her body’s new language from some other world.

A lonely world that he needed to pull her back from.

He needed her back.

“I love you, Y/N,” Mihawk confessed. He noticed that his hands were shaking, almost losing his hold on her. A tiny moment of feeling selfish passed before he breathed her in again. “My little rabbit… I love you more than I can fathom, more and more with every moment. You have woken me up, darling.”

Mihawk tried to reach her, tried to read her, but knew that he couldn’t take from her anymore. All he could do was tell her the truth.

“Y/N, you have brought me to life.”

Her heart.

What does that rhythm mean?

“Mind if I cut in?”

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

It was a miracle that your Uncle hadn’t been vaporized on the spot by the murderous glare Mihawk flung his way. His touch that had been so gentle a moment ago went rigid, your bodies gone still in the middle of that shining dancefloor.

“Come now, it’s just a dance,” Uncle Cedrick prodded, and you wondered if he understood how close to death he was.

Mihawk wanted to kill him. Truly.

He really didn’t sell me?

“It’s fine,” you soothed, pulling away from your lover that had violence radiating off of him in waves. “I’ll be fine. Please, don’t—“

“Alright, love,” he conceded, his eyes somehow even more intense as he studied your face. “I’ll listen to you.”

Mihawk placed your hand in your Uncle’s, his own hand tensing before letting you go.

“Much obliged,” Uncle Cedrick purred as your swordsman walked away, his head jerking subtly at the sound of those words.

“So, dear niece,” he smirked, pulling you into position. “Were they actually able to teach you how to dance? Or do you still require a firm, guiding hand?”

You’d fought so hard against it, knowing it would only break you down. Knowing that all it could do was destroy you.

Yet catching Mihawk’s gaze while he studied your uncle like fresh, new prey did something. You knew you should stomp it out, but the rage in those golden eyes had lit a spark. Just an ember, glowing weakly, but it was there.

Hope.

~~~~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: !!!!! I am eating, sleeping, and breathing this party 😅 I rarely do more than a vibe outline for a fic, usually just a brain dump, but I wanted this party to come together smoothly. Y'all, the OUTLINE for this party is 23 PAGES 🙃🙃🙃 Lol, get comfy (and, oh gobs, please tell me what you think so far, I've been going bonkers 🙏🏼🙏🏼)

Chapter 25

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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thesummerstorms · 5 days ago

Text

Your OC as the Solar System

I was tagged by @rooks-dagger 💜 As she said... a lot of this is vibes! (She specifically mentioned that Knives Out quote and I am nodding my head in agreement!)

Sometimes I feel a bit like I contradicted myself, but Arsinoë likes to be contradictory. She may or may not be punishing me specifically for making all of her early life relationships as ambiguous/uncertain as possible on purpose...

Or it may be the "am I interacting as myself or as part of the multiple complex interacting systems that define my choices". Or the "Top right choices are for friends, close allies, victims who *I* did not have to make victims for work, and people I feel emotionally responsible for" and "bottom right choices are for everyone else, including myself, Crow life, and also actually getting the job done".

And still also payback lmao.

Rules: Bold what applies - italicize sometimes - strike out never. (Bonus): Color the ones that especially fit. Tag some friends to play along!

Arsinoë "Rook" de Riva 🐦‍⬛🗡️🪻

I feel like I don't have "good" screenshots since I very slightly reworked her face. but it's harding week, so let's use this one.

SUN • egotistical • melted wax wings and fingers • stretching sunburnt skin • the most generous soul • blood in the fruit • halos • anger on fire • high vitality • thunderous laughter • is pride really a sin? • halogenic aura

MERCURY • expansion of the mind • silver-tongued • an everlasting wanderer • polyglot • high dexterity • handwritten letters • innately critical • en vogue • eyes in the trees • hidden libraries • there’s always room for improvement

VENUS • in love with strangers • iridescent waters • love potions for your mirror • selfless devotion • shattering crystal • seafoam upon sand • the golden ratio • drowning in your own passion • material value & high principles • luring • plush lips

EARTH • fresh springs • tree hugger • we can start again tomorrow • a blazing rainforest • respects survival of the fittest • nature’s adversity • lazy bones • constantly evolving • flowers sprouting from wounds • a granite altar • fossilized remains

MOON • illusory • silver shimmer off the ocean • secrets and gossip • cycles of reincarnation • a crybaby • physically ethereal • shared glances with a stranger • cat eyes • mistrusting their intuition • fear is a prison • ornate magic wands

MARS • healthy competition • attraction and repulsion • magma and rubies • a blade being forged • wrath wrath wrath • malefic • intense eye contact • cannon fodder & fireworks • blood floods • copper taste on your tongue

JUPITER • red robes and a suit of armor • beacon of stability • leader by birth • thunderbolts and lightning • guilty but can’t stop • secret rich kid • golden touch golden tears • innate optimist • failure isn’t an option • constantly reaching for more • unfinished symphonies

SATURN • traditional • overbearing energy • a sculptor of reality • this existence is a karmic one • has a heart it’s just.. way down deep • law, order & justice • avoid all necessary risk • the sound of shackles clanging • sisyphus’ struggle • grappling with the reality of time • self-governing

URANUS • psychedelic funk music • overflowing cups • a rebellion with skin • looking good in photo id • oblivious but caring • middle fingers in the air • double rainbows • icy diamond exterior • holographic • afraid of their own mediocrity • pearlescent smoke

NEPTUNE • an elegy for the lost • dissolving boundaries • white horses • the burden of mystical conditions • deceptive • escapism is their reality • a polarizing entity • artists soul • paranoia • searching for the unseen • a siren’s swan song

PLUTO • angel statues over graves • power • the cycle of necrosis • transformative • unfathomable depths • an ivory tower toppling over • screaming at the sky • violets and irises • eclipsed darkness • speaks with their shadow • sex, death, rebirth

===

No pressure tagging: @beachhotdog @ofcrowsanddragons @rookinthecrownest @karthonic @basedonconjecture @serstolas @viagosbrother @beepoven @therivercrow and anyone who would like to play whom I missed. (Doesn't have to be for a DA character!)

#arsinoë de riva #tag games

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sparks-and-wires · 3 months ago

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2P Italy General Headcanons

🗡️ Luciano Vargas, always appears to be 25 - 27 year old

🗡️ Double demi (demiromantic, demisexual), the only people he usually has one night stands with relates to his work.

🗡️ He has auburn colored hair, and red eyes has lean heavily into a pink hue much like Romano's does

🗡️ He’s skillful at manipulating others into doing what he wants, this is especially good at reassuring his ‘business partners’ that they’re making a good choice by working with him.

🗡️ He can be extremely romantic if he so chooses to be, though most of the time he uses this as a tactic to get what he wants out of people. Anyone he’s actually close to that he’s romantic with simply has him wrapped around their finger, since he’s trying his best to be good to them.

🗡️ He's been alive for long enough to know when people actually are trying to connect with him, or if they just want to mooche off of him. To say he's met an overwhelmingly annoying amount of gold diggers would be an understatement, but he doesn't entertain those type of people like his older brother does. He just blatantly ignores them.

🗡️ The only downside to being close with this guy is that he's constantly asking where you are. Like not being right in front of him all the time is some sort of trigger for him. He's just very oddly protective and bossy, it's similar to how he is with his men but multiplied by ten. He's the type that will get background checks done on all your friends and family members honestly, and separate you from people he hates.

🗡️ At least you get his fierce loyalty and protection by the entire mafia wherever you are. Though you end up being his voice of reason most of the time and will take your opinion into consideration in the terms of his health or business deals. You can get him to go to sleep easier than some stupid pills will. It's almost like he's attached to you in an unhealthy way.

🗡️ The whole persona he puts off, the ‘sullen man who likes knives and is very opinionated’, yeah, that's like 1% of his personality. He's constantly stressed out which makes it easy for him to last out at others. When he's not downing wine to try to calm himself he's doing a lot of reading in between business deals.

🗡️ This man is extremely smart, well organized, and calculative, but he's also a major control freak due to not having power during his childhood. And now he has so much power that he's constantly in overdrive trying to keep everything in check. Any 'free time' he has is when he willingly dumps all that work onto other people.

🗡️ This man basically runs the entire country since the only one that actually helps is Sicily (Romeo). The whole mob thing was just to gain control of the country as a whole, as he hates the 'idiots' that comes into power. The police and entire local government is funded and run by him and his 'little' organization. So if the cops actually show up to save you, you should really be thanking him for allowing it.

🗡️ Due to all the stress, he has really bad sleeping issue. Sleeping medication doesn't always work and he has to call a doctor for help every few weeks if he doesn't pass out within three days beforehand. He can easily go three days without sleeping since he's used to it. That being said he does end up having auditory or visual hallucinations at that time he has to just ignore to get his work done.

🗡️ When he does sleep, like actually willingly sleeps, he often has vivid nightmares that has him jolting up in bed in a cold sweat. It makes the prospect of sleep very unappealing and only exacerbates all the pressure he's usually under all the time.

🗡️ I can't say if he's paranoid or not but he certainly acts like he is. Even when he's calculated things down to a T, it just seems like he expects something to go wrong.

🗡️ The gloves he always seems to wear is to cover burns he has on his hands that haven't healed entirely yet. Not many people know to what extent he's been burned, and he's shot at a few people who'd discovered that by accident.

🗡️ He can be extremely cruel to those who screw him over. Even with a good explanation of a person's actions and an sincere apology, not a lot of people come out of his villa alive.

🗡️ Once you screw him over it's pretty much over, you become a security threat, and he feels compelled to end you. And if you don't die, you're heavily monitored and questioned interrogation style if you ever change your routine in any way. It takes a lot of consistency to win back his trust.

🗡️ He can have a twisted overall bad sense of humor sometimes, to the point that even his brothers point out how it could make him look bad. You know how you'll laugh at almost everything when you're really tired? Yeah that's him sometimes. The stupidest things can set him into a fit of laughter when he's alone.

🗡️ This guy honestly needs more breaks than he allows himself, he may have everything going for him, but he's running himself ragged just trying to keep his country together. Eventually he will just have to give back half the power to his government, he really can't keep going like this.

🗡️ That being said that's probably only going to happen if he gets into a serious relationship. He can't even think about how to balance those two things without giving up the other, and he certainly isn't going to give his partner up. Then he can finally start to heal for once.

🗡️ As much as he hates his 1P sometimes, he wish he could have the luxury of being as carefree as he is.

#hetalia #sparks cannon #hetalia headcanons #hetalia fandom #ヘタリア #2p hetalia #2ptalia #2p italy #luciano vargas #2pitaly #2p hetalia imagines #2p hetalia headcanons

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apologiesforthecreatures · 3 months ago

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Day 12 of providing knives to all my mutuals as the Ides of March grow nearer (:

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

And the armory for everyone else:

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

#the ides of march #march 15 #julius caesar

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achromatophoric · 6 months ago

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Wenclair Week - Day 3: Cursed Lover

In the Addams family armory, a confession is made as two girls gear up.

Enid: *lacing boots* Babe, I already know all about it. One love, all-encompassing, madness or death if not returned—it’s totes fine!

Wednesday: *checking knives* This unfortunately does not concern my family curse.

Enid: *looks up sharply* You have a different curse?

Wednesday: *adjusts bandolier* Quite so. There was an incident with a fairy godmother of the morally corrupt variety. I required her hair.

Enid: *gasps* You did not!

Wednesday: I certainly did. Needless to say, she was less than pleased. Gloves?

Enid: *passes a pair of gloves* So what does this curse even do?

Wednesday: To be concise, it breeds suffering and misfortune whenever I experience a state of venereal rapture.

Enid: *scrunches nose* Venereal? Uh—ew! Next time, please just say orga— Ohmygosh.

Enid: *stifles sudden giggle*

Wednesday: *peers at Enid while adjusting gloves* What is it?

Enid: *blurts out* Wednesday Friday Addams, are you telling me you have WOEGASMS?!

Wednesday: *goes deathly still*

Enid: *triumphant wiggle*

Wednesday:

Wednesday: *through gritted teeth* Yes, I suppose I am.

Enid: That is SO you, babe! *giggles delightedly*

Wednesday: *sighs*

Enid: *grabs a spear* Okay! I am totes ready to take on today’s horde of giant toad demons.

Wednesday: *flourishes dual machetes* As am I. Let’s go.

The two head for the mansion exit, bristling with weapons and sheathed in protective gear. When they reach the doors, Enid shoots her fiancé a curious look.

Enid: Hey babe, I was wondering. Why did you bring up the curse?

Wednesday: Ah. Well, do you happen to recall when our toad problem first arose?

Enid: Wasn’t it the day after the Wicked-themed Rave’N, senior year?

Wednesday: *subtle smile* Correct. You made for a most ravishing Glinda.

Enid: Thanks to that amazing wig you got me. And your Elphaba? Sexy AF! That dress of yours was absolute fire.

Wednesday: And yet you preferred that dress on our floor, along with yours, my hat, our undergarments…

Enid: *smirks* Yeah, we spent the rest of the night defying gravity, didn’t we?

Wednesday: *fondly* Our very first time. One of my most treasured memories.

Enid: *warm smile* Same.

The tender moment lingers as the two stare lovingly into each other’s eyes, until it is interrupted by a distant croaking noise.

Enid: *blinks*

Enid: But what does that have to do with the toads?

In answer, Wednesday throws open the front doors to reveal the encroaching knot of cow-sized demonic toads and their peculiar cries of—

Tormentoads: Woebbit! Woebbit woebbit! Woebbit Woebbit! Woeb—

Enid: 😧

Enid: *aghast* You’re not seriously telling me…

Wednesday: *steps outside* Indeed. One summoned for every single woegasm you disgorge from my wretched depths.

Enid: 😧

Wednesday: Fret not, mi lobita insaciable. Be proud as you gaze upon the undeniable proof of your carnal talents—

Wednesday: *lips curl in a mad smile*

Wednesday: —and know, with the same immutable certainty of death and taxes, that last night… *glances back at her mate*

Enid: 🫢

Wednesday: Last night you, as you are oft to say, rocked my fucking world.

Still smiling, the twice-cursed seer turns and charges into battle with the reckless abandon and boundless enthusiasm of someone who has recently had their back properly blown out.

Enid: 🤭

🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸 🗡️ 😈 🔪💨

#wenclairweek2024 #cursed lover #wicked reference #woegasm #they’ve killed many many MANY tormentoads #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #the addams family curse #wednesday netflix #wenclair #incorrect wenclair #the addams family #incorrect wednesday addams #incorrect wednesday quotes #incorrect quotes #ficlet

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horriblengrossstories · 2 months ago

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🩸 Derek Goffard’s Top Red Flags, Ranked From “Hell No” to “Why Is This Almost Cute?” 🩸

🔪 TIER ONE: TOTAL MONSTER. LOCK YOUR DOORS!!!

Buying You at an Auction Like It’s a Luxury Date. “I outbid the others for you. ”If human trafficking had a Hallmark card.

Planning to Take You Home to His Estate as a ‘Gift to Himself’—Right After You Spare His Life.Because true romance is dragging your half-conscious body through airport security after a knife fight and a breakdown. (jk he has a private plane but ya know)

He collects things, keeps them hidden—used tissues, chewed pens, torn shirts.To him, these are trophies of “progress.” Broken hair ties, scraps of clothing, old toothbrushes.“I have everything you’ve ever touched. I could burn it all. I could bury you with it.”

🧠 TIER TWO: LETHAL LOVE LANGUAGE

Repeating your darkest secrets back to you as pet names. “Little junkie.” “Crybaby.” “Runaway.”He uses them sweetly, with a smile. You're supposed to be flattered he remembers.

Telling You His Blood Pressure Drops When You Cry. He means it. He genuinely finds your pain soothing. Like a sedative.

Timing your crying. He’ll literally check his watch, smirk, and say things like “Right on schedule,” like your pain is a performance for him. And the more accurate are you? The more “in sync” he thinks the two of you are.

🗡️ TIER THREE: RABID BOYFRIEND ENERGY.

He names his knives. Like emotionally.Has an Emotional Support Knife. Carries It Everywhere. One is called “First Date.” Another is “The One You Deserved. “Say hi to ‘Mutt’s Fault.’ She’s shy, but she’ll open up eventually.”Has probably introduced it to Mutt like it’s a close friend. “This one’s seen more of me than anyone else. Be nice.”

Thinks starting a fire indoors is “just a joke” if it makes you flinch. He’ll light a curtain corner just to watch you panic, blow it out with a smirk, then whine, “God, you’re so dramatic. It’s not like I’d let the house burn down. ”

🚩 TIER FOUR: UNSETTLINGLY DOMESTIC

He’ll Eat Off Your Plate Without Asking—Then Get Offended If You Do It Back. He’s possessive and entitled. He’ll stab a fork in your food mid-bite with a grin like it’s a joke, but God help you if you touch his. “That’s mine, you feral little thief.”

Thinks Sharing Bathwater is Peak Intimacy. Not bubble baths. Lukewarm, gross, already-used bathwater. He drags you in after him, makes you sit between his legs while he washes your hair:“This is love, right?”(He says, then dunking your head under without warning.)

#the price of flesh #derek goffard #tpof derek #tpof #derek goffard x reader

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theharrowing · 1 year ago

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Collateral 🗡️: Yoongi POV

Yoongi is spiraling. He has has a bigger mess on his hands than he could have anticipated, and you have slipped between his fingers.

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

❗ THIS IS A CHARACTER POV CHAPTER!!!

even if you have not been reading the POV chapters, i highly recommend reading this one to get a sense of what has been going on inside Yoongi's head since this story began, and where he is now.

🗡️Yoongi x Namjoon, Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Reader

🗡️ word count: 8.1k

🗡️ mafia au, established relationship, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit, 21+

🗡️ warnings: semi-explicit smut between Yoongi & Namjoon (anal sex; mostly Yoongi experiencing subspace and not being present; non-explicit oral sex); mention of the disposal of dead bodies; blood on Yoongi's hands; mention of weapons (guns and knives); mental health stuff (anxiety; dissociation); chess talk...(is that a warning? lmk if the analogy is confusing lol); brief mention of homophobia (as a concept/worry, not as a direct experience); thoughts of taking heroin and overdosing (does not actually use); Yoongi is in a dark place and not necessarily suicidal, but definitely at a breaking point.

🗡️ notes: mc is referred to in 3rd person (she/her) pronouns for this chapter! there is also a hefty amount of foreshadowing for remaining chapters, and a surprise at the end.

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🗡️ posted june 2024 | read on ao3

"She's gone," Namjoon says, smile evident in his tone. Yoongi continues to watch as Jeongguk drags her away by the hand along the path toward his home. She stumbles behind him, arm outstretched as his strides are longer than hers. Namjoon continues, "I have you all to myself."

Once she disappears along the path, Yoongi rips his gaze from the trees and turns to Namjoon, lifting an eyebrow to appear nonchalant. The crease of dimples on Namjoon's cheeks, paired with his lidded gaze, turns Yoongi's heart into a caged, rabid beast.

"Oh?" he asks.

Namjoon's dimples deepen. "It's been a while since it has just been us two," he groans, stepping so close that Yoongi has to angle his head to gaze at him. "I miss you."

This makes Yoongi chuckle. He knows what Namjoon's I miss you entails—how it has nothing to do with the simple physical nearness that the phrase may imply on a surface level.

"You have me," Yoongi responds, wrapping his arms lazily around Namjoon's waist.

"Are any staff members here?" Namjoon asks as he leans close and rubs the tips of their noses together. His cologne is familiar and bright, causing tension to release from Yoongi's shoulders.

"Just the chef," Yoongi responds through a long exhale of air.

He opens his mouth to ask why Namjoon is curious—knowing full well that sex is on his mind—but Namjoon captures his bottom lip in his teeth and sucks until Yoongi's eyes roll back. Yoongi feels dizzy from desire and goes limp in Namjoon's arms. His eyes flutter closed momentarily, and he lets out a deep, pleased groan.

"Send him home," Namjoon mutters, lip still captive in his mouth. He releases, then more clearly says, "I want you on the couch."

Yoongi shakes his head, unable to hold back a smile. He sounds petulant as he says, "Not my mother's couch," making Namjoon chuckle. The thought alone of cleaning a stain out of that ancient blue velvet sends a shiver along his spine.

Namjoon laughs harder and nods—when it comes to Yoongi's mother, Namjoon always concedes. Even from the grave, he would never do anything to displease her.

"Alright," Namjoon says, giving Yoongi a tug toward the slightly ajar front door. "The couch upstairs, then."

Yoongi smiles, and that is all Namjoon needs to take the lead, kicking out of his shoes while he tugs on Yoongi's hand. Yoongi steps out of a pair of leather loafers and is led through his home to his bedroom, smiling wider with each step, doing his best not to trip on his way up the stairs.

Yoongi loves his darling. He really does.

But there is something so serene and comforting about having Namjoon all to himself, and he allows his mind to wander along this path, knowing it is not a disservice to her. He imagines she also enjoys moments when it is just herself and one of them.

Or herself and Jeongguk.

"What do you suppose they are getting up to at Jeongguk's place?" Yoongi asks as they approach the large blue couch in his bedroom.

Namjoon sinks to the cushions, leaving Yoongi to stand before him. He knows that unless Namjoon gives him verbal instruction, his assumed instruction is to not do anything, and so he keeps his arms hung to his sides while Namjoon begins undoing the fly of his slacks.

"Fucking," Namjoon responds, glancing up at him, dimples prominent. His dark hair is beginning to grow out a bit, and hangs parted over his forehead.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, chuckling as his slacks and briefs are shoved to his knees and his legs are hit by cool air. He gently lifts one foot after another, hovering each one long enough to have his socks removed, and he says, "Touché."

"He bought her a dildo, for fuck's sake," Namjoon says, standing before Yoongi and grabbing at the bottom hem of his black sweater.

Yoongi regrets bringing it up, sensing Namjoon is in the mood to tease. He grumbles, "I'm aware."

"Modeled after his own cock," Namjoon adds, sounding ever incredulous.

Yoongi feels exasperated and mutters, "Forget I asked," under his breath.

"No, tell me," Namjoon continues, lifting Yoongi's sweater and tee in the same motion, forcing Yoongi's arms upward. The garments are removed and tossed aside, and Namjoon grips Yoongi's chin, tugging him forcefully to bring their lips close before Yoongi has a chance to lower his arms to his sides again. "What else would they be doing?"

Namjoon steals the air from Yoongi's lungs, leaving him standing nude, cold, and utterly speechless. He stares into Namjoon's dark, sharp eyes, finding all he can do is catch his breath.

"Bend over," Namjoon instructs.

Yoongi nods in quick, shallow movements and swallows thickly. "Yes, daddy," he utters softly, sound caught in his throat.

Namjoon takes his time stretching Yoongi with his fingers and tongue. He is delirious by the time he is instructed to lay on his back, barely cognizant of the soft fabric as it shifts below his knees and settles below his back.

The room dissipates into a thin fog as Namjoon enters him, and his body is electric with sensation, feeling only where he is used and touched—where beads of sweat drip from Namjoon's forehead onto his heated skin.

Yoongi revels in these moments when he can slip into subspace and shut off, becoming nothing but a doll for his lover. He tries to think about his darling but the synapses do not fire. All he knows in this moment is immediate, insurmountable pleasure.

As Namjoon fucks Yoongi with his legs lifted high in the air, the rocking of his body mixed with the pleasure-pain of how hard Namjoon's thrusts are caused him to drift. He is lost at sea with nothing but the roaring, whooshing sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Yoongi returns to his body as Namjoon uses a warm, damp rag to clean him off. It takes several heavy blinks to realize he has been carried into the bathroom and is bending over the cold marble sink with his feet spread on a soft rug. The hard surface feels good against his heated skin, but he begins to shiver the more aware of it he becomes.

"I completely lost you for a while, there," Namjoon says once he is finished. He places a kiss between Yoongi's shoulder blades, and Yoongi hums happily as his eyelids flutter closed and a shiver works down his spine.

The two of them have an agreement that unless Yoongi becomes so out of it that he starts to panic, Namjoon is not to stop. He is allowed to use Yoongi all he needs to, and he is always gracious in the way he cares for Yoongi after.

Yoongi has never had a panic moment during subspace, but they have read that it is something that can happen. He and Namjoon have become so close over the years that Yoongi is not concerned. They can cross that bridge if they ever come to it.

It is only when the sex ends and Yoongi is a full person again that he sometimes loses his grasp on reality, but he figures that is a different matter entirely.

"Did I cum?" Yoongi asks although he knows the answer is no. His cock is soft but he can feel the pent-up need for release that has him practically begging Namjoon for another round.

"Nah," Namjoon responds, tugging Yoongi by the shoulders to stand up straight. As Yoongi pushes away from the counter with his elbows and then his palms, Namjoon—who is shirtless but wearing briefs—wraps his arms around Yoongi's arms, pinning them to his sides. "I tried twice to make you cum but you kept seeming too overwhelmed. Didn't want to push you."

"Sorry," Yoongi mutters, although he is not in the least bit sorry. Still, he finds it is the only thing that makes sense for him to say, right now. It is common for him to get so lost that he does not cum, but he always feels a tinge of guilt for some reason, as if ejaculation is the only way to express to someone that they have made you feel good. Of course, it is not.

"Want to discuss it?" Namjoon asks, and Yoongi shrugs, ready to brush it off as nothing because he is concerned that he may actually begin to spiral if he voices what has been on his mind.

It certainly is not nothing. Yoongi slips away the easiest when his mind is so clouded with anxiety that he becomes desperate to let go. And, of course, Namjoon knows this better than anyone else.

"Sure," Yoongi admits. Perhaps it would be nice to voice his feelings out loud. "Once we are dressed and I have a fair amount of marijuana in my system, I will gladly discuss it."

With new socks and underwear, Yoongi returns to the outfit he had been wearing before, shaking the garments as he lifts them from their pile on the floor in order to free them of the socks and briefs that belong in the hamper.

Namjoon kisses Yoongi on the cheek and leaves the bedroom first, undoubtedly to make his way down to the living room to where he keeps his joints stashed in his mother's favorite antique table.

Yoongi thinks of his mother as he runs a hand through his hair and slowly follows along. The mansion is full of memories of her, and he wishes he could confide in her the way he did when he was younger. More than anything, he wishes he could be in her presence again.

He pauses at the top of the stairs to peer at a closed door on the far end of the mezzanine that has not been opened in years, and he imagines his mother donned in all black with her long hair twisted out of her face into a neat bun in the back. She always sat on her favorite velvet sofa—the one that is now down in the main hall—drinking a glass of Shiraz while reading the newspaper, ready to set both aside to advise her son in a moment's notice.

Yoongi has walked in on a similar scene so many times before, and as he imagines the warmth of her embrace, memories flood back to him, as they always do.

I love him, his younger self whined, collapsing to the cushion as two warm arms wrapped around his shoulders and engulfed his head in Chanel-scented darkness. He loved Ryujin, too, but in the way one loves someone they have known all their life. Not in the way he loved Namjoon.

He had always thought he could have, though. He was willing to try to feel the way he pretended to. All he needed was a little time, he would tell himself.

I know you do, her voice said, strong yet soft, unwavering. Hold him dearly, and do not let him go. The others will come to understand.

Yoongi remembers asking his mother what to do if the others did not come to understand, voice trembling as he sniffled against her neck. Specifically, he was talking about his father, though he was not brave enough to say so. He was never brave enough to say so.

Then be rid of them, is all she would say in response. She made it sound so easy.

Yoongi's heart feels heavy, and he closes his eyes, descending the steps while wishing she were still here. He is no fool—he knows he does not always make the best choices. But he does the best he can with what he has been given, and he hopes that she would still be proud of him. At the very least, he thinks she could talk some sense into him.

In a blink, Yoongi is outside, standing on his front stoop, lighting the joint that is nestled between his lips. He glances down at his feet to make sure he is wearing shoes and is pleased to find that they match.

Yoongi does this lately—loses track of himself. One moment, he is standing at the top of the staircase, and the next, he is outside. He knows that his brain still pilots his body in the in-between moments, but it always gives him pause to return to himself, realizing he has been somewhere else.

Christopher says it is a form of dissociation and points out that it occurs when Yoongi tends to be experiencing high levels of stress. The problem is, Yoongi is almost always experiencing high levels of stress.

Yoongi inhales sharply, feeling the smoke fill his lungs. He hands the joint to Namjoon, holding his breath a few seconds more, then lets it out in a deep exhale.

"Craving sushi," Yoongi mutters, mostly to himself.

Namjoon chuckles as he lets out a plume of smoke and hands the joint back. "Sushi is doable, and agreeable. Wanna call our darling?"

Yoongi brings the joint to his lips and shakes his head. He wants to give her a little more time and space. He wants her to feel like she has freedom.

"Not yet," he says as best as he can while trying to keep the smoke from escaping his lungs. Then he sighs, letting the air push out, passing the joint back to Namjoon. "I feel like I have been crowding her, and I—" Yoongi swallows, finds his mouth is terribly dry, and shoves his hands into his pockets.

Namjoon inhales sharply and coughs. Yoongi considers going into the kitchen to fetch them some water, but he feels glued in place, unable to move.

"Ah, right," Namjoon says, voice somewhat strained from coughing. "Is this what has you stuck inside your head today?"

Yoongi nods, staring at the tree line that separates his property from Seokjin's and Jeongguk's. Greens and browns fade in and out of focus, making him dizzy, but he finds he cannot look away.

"She had a fucking panic attack," Yoongi says under his breath, finding his tone is sharper and much angrier than he intends. He swallows, nibbles the inside of his cheek, and then tries again in a much more even tone. "I feel like I have grossly misjudged the situation, and it is not as if I can simply take the proposal back."

"We have been putting a lot of pressure on her," Namjoon agrees, stepping close.

Yoongi does not want more of the weed, and he shakes his head when it is offered. He rips his gaze from the trees and turns to Namjoon, watching as his expression falls to match his solemn one, lips downturned in a frown. Yoongi knows that Namjoon already knows what he is thinking before he says it. He always does.

"I am at a loss for what to do," Yoongi mutters.

Namjoon turns his head to the side to blow out a mouthful of smoke, eyes staying on Yoongi. "I suppose we give her space whenever possible," he suggests, to which Yoongi nods. "And we find a good time to sit her down and talk to her. We can assure her that we are not trying to rush or pressure her."

As always, Namjoon is right. A conversation goes a long way, and it is something the three of them have not made enough time for. A lot of bullshit has happened over the last couple of months, and Yoongi imagines all three of them must have a lot on their minds.

And there are some things that Yoongi needs to clear up before their relationship becomes even more serious. Things he has not been forthcoming about because he never expected to care enough about her to want to openly discuss them.

He still cannot believe he has allowed himself to fall in love again.

Yoongi opens his mouth to respond, but his phone begins to buzz. The vibration is a pattern that is only programmed for one phone number, and he smiles as he reaches into his pocket, eager to hear from her, albeit a little worried. Perhaps they can have the dreaded but much needed conversation over dinner.

* * *

It is just after 2 in the morning when Yoongi's phone finally rings. He is drenched in sweat and blood, and he drags the back of his hand over his brow as he wipes his other hand against the leg of his pants and reaches into his pocket, palming his device. Seokjin's name shines at him in big white letters, and he breathes deeply and slowly before accepting the call.

Around him, bodies of men are dragged further onto the compound from the security gate, and Taehyung loads them into the back of a sleek black pickup truck for identification and disposal while Jeongguk prowls the length of the driveway like a territorial beast, clenching bloody knives in both hands.

"Seokjin," Yoongi pants, exhausted.

"Boss," Seokjin responds chipperly, "Your wolf is on a flight to Taiwan. A liaison will meet her and either take her to Hong Kong to stay with The Tigers, or to Busan."

"Busan," Yoongi bites back, feeling his stomach churn with discomfort. "It would be nice to have her on the same peninsula, but…at what cost."

Seokjin asks, "Still distrust the ladies?"

Yoongi sighs. "Yes and no. Ryujin is not stupid enough to harm her, but I am not sure I can speak for Hyungseo."

"I have employed Hyejin to take the place of our informant, and I seem to recall she and your darling getting along fairly well."

Yoongi hums. Something about Hyejin's actions have always felt like a performance. That, or it has been too long since Yoongi has ever met someone who is genuinely as kind as she seems.

"Busan is fine, so long as one of us can make house calls."

There is a pause before both men say, "Jeonggukah."

Of all the family men, Jeongguk was closest with Ryujin before her family's betrayal. If there is anyone who she would allow on her compound, it is likely him.

"Once they have settled, I will be in touch," Seokjin says. "They are going to stay in Taiwan for a couple of days to allow things here to calm down, or culminate—whichever comes first."

"Alright," Yoongi says, willing to accept this plan for now.

The less time she spends in Busan with his enemy, the better. But, Yoongi supposes, it may pull Barom off her scent, that sneaky piece of—

"How are things there?" Seokjin asks.

Yoongi scoffs. He stretches his neck and glances around, watching as Taehyung and Namjoon load the last of the bodies onto the truck. Jeongguk continues to pace back and forth near the gate while Hoseok gleefully packs up all the various weapons taken from the dead men.

"It was a clusterfuck, to say the least." Yoongi sighs. "Barom slipped away with one of his men. We managed to kill the rest. Taehyungah is taking the bodies to ID and incinerate, and Hoseokah is piling up a wealth of new toys."

"Ooh, toys! Anything good?"

Yoongi shrugs to nobody. "Mostly knives and handguns. I have a feeling these are not his strongest, nor most organized men. Have you any idea who this guy could be working for?"

"I did a cursory check on social media—just what he shares with the public—and it seems people call him Mister Insanity. But, as you can imagine, that provides us with absolutely nothing."

Yoongi chuckles. How ridiculous.

Seokjin continues. "I have asked the Busan girls, as well as the Songs in the south. Neither seem to know anything, but they said they would report back should anything come up."

Reluctantly, Yoongi asks, "And Sunmi-noona?"

Seokjin sighs. Lee Sunmi, who remains a neutral party with regard to mafia family goings-on, is often at the center of everything, as well as a ghost. She operates many of the businesses owned by the Min and Shin families from Seoul to Busan, with a spattering of buildings in Daegu.

With simultaneously the cleanest and dirtiest hands in the city, Sunmi tends to know everything that happens behind the scenes, though Yoongi suspects Seokjin knows even more. Sunmi and Seokjin were in cahoots for a while until Hoseok stole Seokjin's attention away for good, and they developed the same chains of information gathering.

Yoongi has not seen Sunmi in quite some time. In fact, he has been dodging her calls and being dismissive over text since the day he brought his darling home. They, too, were tangled in a messy little web for a while, and Yoongi was not the most chivalrous in the way he stepped away. Becoming close with Sunmi was a strategic move, and nothing more. Getting information from her now might prove to be a challenge.

"That one is on you," Seokjin responds through a chuckle. "You know damn well she will not meet with me."

Yoongi sighs and rubs his thumb and middle finger over his temples. "Alright," he concedes.

Namjoon sends Yoongi a nod to let him know he and Taehyung are finished with their task. Yoongi lets out a sigh and feels his shoulders relax.

"I need a fucking shower and to get some sleep. I am postponing our meeting until ten."

"Sounds good, boss," Seokjin replies.

His tone is too calm for the present situation, and it makes Yoongi uneasy, but he is exhausted and he pushes the thought aside. He can dwell on it once he has slept.

Yoongi seems to slip out of himself once more, losing the time spent walking from the driveway up to the ensuite and undressing. He returns to himself as hot water hits his bare shoulders and he gasps while looking around, finding Namjoon adjusting the shower knobs to his left.

"Too hot?" Namjoon asks.

Steam fills the room, and it is definitely too hot, but it also feels good. Yoongi likes it when the water is near-scalding. How else will it wash away his sins?

With a sigh, Yoongi closes his eyes and tilts his head back. He lets out a grunting sound that is hardly a response, and Namjoon continues to fiddle with the knobs until the water is a more agreeable warm-hot.

"We should pack her a suitcase," Yoongi mutters to himself as a sudsy loofa passes over his collarbone.

Yoongi allows Namjoon to wash him, standing with his eyes closed and his body as still as he can keep it. He wonders whether he should allow himself to feel relieved that she will be on her way to Busan in a matter of days. He thinks the girls will take good care of her so long as their lives are on the line.

In the morning, he thinks, he can pack a bag to give to Jeongguk. He and Namjoon can also assist Taehyung with cleaning the mess. Yoongi just needs to get a little sleep first.

As Namjoon washes him for the second time today, Yoongi begins to somewhat drift. He often wishes the two of them could have had a simple, normal life.

"The last conversation I had with my mother," Yoongi mutters, eyes closed, imagining her smile that so closely resembled his own, "was to tell her that I wished I could marry you instead."

Namjoon's hand stills where it scrubs circles against Yoongi's shoulder blades. Then his hand continues to scrub, and he mutters, "I know."

Of course, Namjoon knows. Yoongi has told him time and time again.

Perhaps it is unfair to his darling—all the secrets he has kept, the life he wishes he could lead instead of this one. He has often wondered whether he will ever have the courage to tell her the entire truth.

What he has done…the long con that he has facilitated behind the scenes, the presence he has had in her life for years before she finally came into his home… Once she discovers how many strings Yoongi had been pulling behind the scenes—a maestro of death, destruction, and coercion—he worries her grasp on reality would shatter.

But, he reminds himself, the two of them were never meant to fall in love. Not really. And, he thinks, perhaps that is why he is so comfortable with allowing her to fall into the arms of other men.

Despite how close they have become, Yoongi has always known that she would not be comfortable with this lifestyle. We will condition her, he used to insist. We will break her down and build her back up again. We will make her into something magnificent.

After all, she was only meant to be a rook in the greater scheme of this game they have found themselves playing. A major piece, but an exchange piece, no less. Her purpose was always to be the beautiful façade that hid his relationship with Namjoon from the politicians and the thugs who might weaponize his sexuality and use it against him. He should have known from the start that the rook was a queen in disguise and that she would not so easily put up with his bullshit.

Yoongi knows he has taken her for granted and that she deserves to know everything. He has dwelled on it for far too long—has let the guilt nearly tear them apart several times, already.

More importantly, he needs to be the one to tell her the truth. He needs to make damn sure Barom does not find a way to her first. Yoongi was certain that his threat back at the Han River when all of this began would be enough to keep Barom away; his return changes everything.

"Baby," Namjoon says, pulling Yoongi from his thoughts. The word is spoken low and close, right into his ear.

Yoongi hums and opens his eyes.

"Wash your hair. Let's get to bed."

Yoongi nods. He turns to the black tile shelves set into the shower wall and squirts shampoo into his hand from a bottle. It is a newer one Namjoon has bought that has a woodsy scent to it, mingling with a citrus scent that Yoongi tends to default to. It cloys his senses as he rubs it into his hair, slowly working it into a lather.

Two strong hands take over, nails scratching against his scalp, and Yoongi lets out a heavy sigh and drops his hands to his sides. He must have been spacing out again, and he opens his eyes to find Namjoon's tattooed chest and neck covering his field of vision.

"Sure you don't want to make an appointment with Christopher?" Namjoon asks.

"Just need to sleep," Yoongi responds somewhat robotically, voice monotone.

Namjoon chuckles. "No amount of sleep is going to fix whatever is going on up here, baby," he gives Yoongi's soapy hair a playful tug. It feels nice. "But I suppose that is a good place to start. Rinse."

Yoongi takes one step forward to be fully under one of the showerheads, and he stands in place as his hair falls around his face to his shoulders in a wet curtain. Namjoon continues to scratch his nails over his scalp, and Yoongi opens his mouth to sigh, tasting the sharp flavor of shampoo enter his mouth.

Once the shower is turned off, Yoongi shivers as he walks out onto the mat and reaches for a towel. He feels cold all the way to the bone marrow and has to force himself not to tremble so hard his teeth clatter. Namjoon walks to the sink to retrieve a bottle of leave-in conditioner that he begins to work into Yoongi's hair, and then he leaves the room entirely.

Namjoon does not shiver the way Yoongi does. He appears perfectly content with just a towel wrapped around his hips, walking around as if he truly has no care in the world. Yoongi envies him.

With his shoulders pulled up to his ears, Yoongi meanders to the sink and begins to brush his teeth. He spits bloody foam into the basin and rinses with warm water, tonguing a spot on the right side of his mouth where his tooth and gum had been struck with the butt of a gun the same night Jimin was shot.

Yoongi needs to see the dentist to have his teeth looked at, but it is another thing on the ever-growing list of things Yoongi has no energy for. There are always so many fucking things.

Namjoon returns with a stack of folded black fabric that Yoongi recognizes as a shirt and sweatpants. He gets dressed slowly, knees and shoulders feeling stiff with age and exhaustion. Namjoon uses a towel to squeeze some of the dampness from Yoongi's hair, then tosses the towel aside. Yoongi follows him to bed.

As soon as he lays down and is engulfed in the cold comforter, Yoongi shivers and turns instinctively to Namjoon, whose naked limbs are wrapping around him and tugging him close.

"Need a little help falling asleep, baby?" Namjoon asks as a warm hand cups Yoongi's flaccid cock and balls over his sweatpants.

Yoongi stretches his legs out and rolls onto his back, smiling as he mutters, "Hmm…maybe."

Without another word, his pants are shoved down, and Yoongi feels hot breath ghosting against his thighs. He spreads his legs wide, digging his heels into the mattress as Namjoon settles between them. Namjoon's mouth is as talented as it is greedy, and he has Yoongi cuming down his throat and falling asleep in no time.

When Yoongi awakens, the hints of sun that come past the dark blue curtains are still too faint to light more than soft slivers of the room. Yoongi stretches his limbs, causing the sweaty mass of snoring man beside him to stir and shift.

Yoongi takes his time rolling out of bed, feeling rested enough. He knows that a little more sleep would do him some good, but once he is awake, he is awake.

He wants to pack a suitcase that he can send with Jeongguk the moment their meeting concludes. Even though the girls will likely be in Taiwan for another day or two, he wants everything to be prepared. He does not want to waste a moment of time.

As Yoongi steps out into the cold, empty mansion, his gaze drifts once more to the door at the far end of the mezzanine, past the two bedrooms that are infrequently occupied. One of these days, he thinks, he would like to pull away the plastic furniture coverings and sit on the chairs. He should dust his mother's shelves of books and open the curtains to let in some light.

Yoongi pads over to the first bedroom and twists the knob. When he shoves the door open, the air in his lungs gets trapped. Something about the way this room was left unsettles him, and it takes a moment for him to notice all the signs.

The makeup and hair care items that had lived atop the vanity near the door are all gone, the bed is made, and sitting on the bedside table, where it always is, is the Tiffany blue engagement ring box.

Beside the large, fake engagement ring box is the second, smaller one. The real one.

Yoongi swallows the urge to vomit. He steps into the room, leaving the door hanging ajar, walks over to the walk-in closet, turns on the light, and nearly collapses.

It is clear from a cursory glance that his darling has cleaned this place out. All that remains are designer clothing and shoes that he and Namjoon procured; everything that seemed to have personal value to her is gone.

Yoongi walks in on the right side and lifts a hand, brushing his fingertips over dress after dress, feeling the fabrics—one after another after another, some soft, some rough, all delicate. At the very back is the off-white halter dress that she wore to her birthday party, and he freezes, hand hovering in the air before it.

Tears pool in Yoongi's eyes, and he swallows his urge to panic. He needs to think. None of this makes sense and he needs to think.

In the left back corner of the room, where a large black suitcase once stood, there is nothing. It is clear that she had packed her belongings, but when? Between Barom and his men arriving, and Seokjin escorting her out, there was no time to pack this much.

Realization hits and settles uncomfortably in Yoongi's belly. She planned on leaving before Barom arrived with his fireworks and guns. She was planning on leaving all along.

He wants to rip every last shred of fabric from these hangers and scream until his throat is raw. Instead, he turns to the center island, bends with his elbows against the cold marble, and sobs.

Anguish fills his chest and throat, constricting his ability to breathe. Tears fall in hot streaks, tickling his nose and lips as he leans with his head against his forearms and cries until his throat burns, failing to keep from making too much noise. Although he is far enough that the sounds likely will not travel to Namjoon, sound does carry surprisingly far through large, empty spaces.

He does not wish to alarm Namjoon. Not until he can gather himself.

Yoongi cries until he is out of breath. He attempts to stand and get his bearings, but he is dizzy and bleary. He is angry. He is confused.

He opens a drawer on the left side of the island and peers inside to find that all of the jewelry Namjoon bought for her birthday is still tucked inside. She has taken none of their many gifts. But why?

As he sighs through his misery, taking in deep, shaking breaths, Yoongi blinks the small room into focus and notices a piece of paper sitting atop the marble island, folded neatly into a rectangle. His hands shake as he reaches for it, delicately unfolds it, and reads.

My Yoongi,

Your blood is on my hands in my dreams and in the waking world. I know you do not blame me, but the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. I hope one day I will be able to look you in the eye and not feel so ashamed.

In your arms, I feel like a queen. I feel like I am on top of the entire world. Nobody has ever given that to me before, and nobody could ever come close.

It is not the height that I fear so badly but the fall back to earth.

Yoongi's hands tremble, and anger rises. He squeezes the paper, crumpling it in his palm as the burning fire of rage courses through his blood.

Her absence holds emptiness like a hole in the world, and Yoongi feels as if he might go supernova and collapse on himself, only to explode.

He does not understand. Has Seokjin put her up to something more nefarious than he realizes? Could she have been planning on running away with Barom? Did seeing him at the restaurant cause something in her to want to flee, whether toward Barom or away from him? How does all of this connect?

Yoongi remembers the way she excused herself to bed early yesterday. He remembers the way Namjoon muttered, "I can't put my finger on it, but something feels off," as the two of them watched her walk up the stairs.

How could he have missed something so big happening under his own roof? How could she join them in bed after packing her suitcase devoid of all their gifts as if nothing were amiss, at all?

Yoongi stands at the foot of his own bed, seething with anger and despair. He has no memory of walking there, but he is there now, watching as Namjoon sits up, first with a smile on his face, then with a look of worry.

"What is it?" Namjoon asks, shoulder and chest muscles flexing and relaxing with each movement.

Yoongi rounds the bed, tosses the crumpled note Namjoon's way, then grabs his phone. His hands shake fiercely, and he clenches his teeth as if that might help.

Call after call is rejected, met with an apologetic voice that informs him that the number he has dialed is no longer in service. How could the phone he has given her no longer work? He finds it unlikely that Seokjin would allow her to move continents without making sure she is able to communicate with him.

Yoongi ignores the urge to throw his phone against the wall and he dials Seokjin.

On the third ring, Seokjin answers, "Boss."

Yoongi hardly recognizes his own voice. "Seokjin," he growls. "We need to talk."

* * *

By eight fifteen, Seokjin is on the blue couch sitting beside a furious, confused Namjoon. Yoongi stands across from him, arms crossed tightly over his chest with the table between them. The letter is on the table, and although Seokjin has done his best to smooth it out, it is destroyed from Yoongi's grasp.

To the left, beside the couch, is an equally confused Hoseok, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Seokjin and Hoseok are well put together in button-ups and slacks. Namjoon and Yoongi are disheveled in pajamas. The clothing Namjoon wears belongs to Yoongi and is ill-fitting, rising at his ankles and abdominals and showing swaths of skin.

Seokjin's demeanor is far too calm as he sits straight, addressing Yoongi. "As you originally instructed, I had kept Barom in one of the lower ranking teams—Jeongguk's drug operation. It was the same team he had been on before we took your wolf as collateral, only we had taken him off the streets. You will remember the group Jeongguk extinguished after he found out those guys had been stealing product."

"Jae," Yoongi says.

"Yes," Seokjin says. "Barom was the only member of that team who wasn't being a complete fuck up. After Jeongguk fish-fileted the lot of them, I moved Barom into hospitality where he was more or less a nobody working in various hotels. He blended in, didn't give anyone any trouble, and skirted under the radar, taking my many threats to keep his nose out of trouble seriously. Or so it seemed...until last night."

All of this checks out. When Yoongi gave Seokjin the instruction to keep Barom close and monitor him, he did not want to be told where the man would work and how much responsibility he would have. Yoongi did not want to run the risk of running into him, and he would likely have hunted him down had he known where to look.

Barom has always been a hard worker, but he has also been a bit of a coward. Yoongi did not think Barom would turn around and work for another family—to enact revenge or otherwise—but he has not been eager to give the man a chance. Keep your enemies close, and all that.

"And last night?" Yoongi grits between his teeth.

Seokjin sighs, but his expression does not break. "Last night was a strange series of coincidences."

"Why did she go to your house after dinner?"

With a light chuckle that is devoid of humor, Seokjin says, "She came by demanding that I help her set up a vacation. Seeing Barom at the restaurant rattled her, and she wanted to flee, so I told her to pack a bag, and that in the meantime, I would try to set something up. My plan was to discuss the matter with the two of you," Seokjin glances at Namjoon but keeps his attention on Yoongi, "and then pull her out in the next few days. Barom showing up in the middle of the night propelled matters."

All of this might make sense, except for one thing. "Then why did she leave that note? Why does it seem like she was planning on running away without saying goodbye to us?"

Seokjin sighs again, this time allowing his posture to relax. "As far as I can tell, she was planning on leaving without saying goodbye."

Yoongi drops his arms to his sides, fists clenched. "And you were going to—"

"Yes," Seokjin says simply, unwavering. "Either I was going to inform you and ask you to keep it a secret from her, so as to allow her to slip away without worry, or I was going to abide by her wishes and take the heat for it afterwards. You and I both know I would never put her in any sort of danger. She was not sure she could leave you two if she had to say goodbye to your faces, and she seemed quite desperate."

"No sort of danger?" Yoongi asks, shifting his weight to his right side. "Just as Hyunjin was in no danger? And his wife, and his daughter."

Before Seokjin can respond, Yoongi catches a slip in his façade. It is a minuscule twitch of his mouth—so small that someone who is not keenly aware of every one of Seokjin's microexpressions may not catch it. But Yoongi does, and he is furious.

He steps forward, knocking his shin against the table as he roars, "You son of a bitch!"

From his left, Hoseok is advancing, hands open wide at his sides. He appears worried but confused, as if Seokjin has kept this secret from him, as well.

Seokjin lifts his palms, and Yoongi imagines them dripping with blood. "You and I both know I had to spread the news that he was dead," he says quickly. "I was intending on telling you the truth once they were settled in with their new identities, but then you—"

Then he went off the rails and shot heroin into his veins. Yoongi squeezes his eyes closed. How has everything become so out of his control over the past year? He feels as if his sanity is slipping through his fingers like sand.

He wants to reach over the table and choke the air from Seokjin's lungs, but he knows that all Seokjin has done is follow protocol. Had Yoongi not been so wrapped up in everything else, he likely would have seen it for what it was—a ruse to throw anyone on the outside off of Hyunjin's scent.

Forcing everyone, including those close to him, to think he is dead is a strategic move that Yoongi's father has used many times in the past. The old man even faked his own death once before he was gone for good, giving Yoongi a chance to slide into his role while standing over him like the menacing shadow he was. What a relief it was when the old man actually died shortly thereafter.

"Fine," Yoongi says, allowing his tensed muscles to relax. His shoulders feel tight, and he rolls them back as he takes a step away from the table and lets out a deep exhale. "It is a relief to know they are safe. I trust that they have money? A home?"

Seokjin hums in agreement. "They have been set up with fine lives."

"And you would have done the same for her?"

There is another pause before Seokjin says, "I would have set her up with The Tigers for the time being, to get her off the peninsula. Then I would have offered her any major city we have ties to. I would have sent a translator who doubles as an informant to live in the next room over from wherever she was staying...or whatever the two of you would have advised."

This is acceptable, and what Yoongi had expected might happen when she began to talk about needing a vacation. He supposes that it all makes sense. She must have written the letter with the intention of him seeing it eventually, knowing she may not have had the courage to say goodbye to him to his face. Perhaps, he thinks, she did not mean to leave it behind when she left this morning.

Still, it hurts, just as it would have hurt had things gone the way she planned. But he finds he cannot be angry with her.

Yoongi runs a hand through his unbrushed hair. His fingers yank knots apart. "Where is Barom now?"

Seokjin blinks owlishly. "I don't know."

Yoongi lifts an eyebrow, tamping down the urge to scream. His words come out sharp and slow. "What…do you mean…you don't—"

"He has gone off the radar since this morning," Seokjin cuts in, his words coming out quickly. "I have informants keeping their eyes open, including some in Busan. The moment anyone catches wind of him, we will know."

Yoongi wants to explode. He wants to claw everything in his path and rip it to shreds. He wants to smash the entire world under his boots, creating a mass of rubble and destruction that matches how he feels.

"Alright," Yoongi says, exhausted. Spent.

It feels as if ants are crawling through his bloodstream and all he wants is to forget. He would love to shoot up and completely lose sight of himself, but he knows he cannot do that again. The temptation to push himself too far is too great. He cannot do that to Namjoon. Marijuana will have to suffice.

He walks to his mother's favorite antique table between the couch and his blue velvet chair, pulls out the small drawer on its front, and retrieves Namjoon's metal cigarette case which holds his stash of joints. Yoongi presses a little button on the side of the case, causing it to spring open, then he pulls out the last joint along with a box of matches.

Without saying a word, Yoongi tosses the empty cigarette case onto the chair in a clatter of metal and begins to walk toward the door. He steps outside in socked feet and cradles the joint between his lips as his trembling hands work to light a match.

Yoongi's phone dings in his pocket. It is the singular ding that signals an incoming text message, and he lights the tip of the joint with the flaming match, pulling in a deep breath as the end cherries red and turns to ash. His mouth and throat fill with smoke, and he holds it in until he begins to feel dizzy.

With a sigh, smoke billows from Yoongi's nostrils, and he tosses the match to the ground, watching as the wooden stick darkens until it is a burnt husk blowing in the light breeze. Yoongi reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, spotting an unknown number and an image file.

He thumbs through various screens until he finds Barom's clown-painted smiling face. The man is standing in front of a sign that Yoongi has to squint to read. He is unmistakably at an airport in Taiwan, but which one, Yoongi cannot tell.

"Seokjin!" Yoongi growls, feeling his pulse rise and his hands begin to shake. He knows that if he calls this number, it will come back empty. There is no way Barom sent that image without promptly removing the sim card.

Before Seokjin can respond, Yoongi's phone begins to ring, and he blinks the screen into focus, glancing at Taehyung's name as he pulls the device to his ear.

"Yes?" he asks, closing his eyes. He is not sure he can take any more news, and the day has hardly begun.

"Boss," Taehyung says. "It's Jimin."

Jimin. Yoongi's eyes fly open, sore against the bright morning sun. His vision is blotted momentarily with bright white, and as he blinks, it becomes clouded instead by tears. Yoongi finds it hard to imagine he has any more tears left to shed.

"What is it?" Yoongi asks, voice shaking as badly as his hands. His knees weaken, and he considers sitting down on the hard concrete.

Yoongi braces himself for the worst, and holds his breath while the joint between his fingers burns uselessly. Behind him, at least one other man has come to the door, but he is too focused on awaiting Taehyung's response to see who.

Hands grip his arms as if their owner senses his uneasiness, and Yoongi does his best to ignore the sensation as he tries his hardest not to drift away. He listens intently.

And then Taehyung says two little words that change absolutely everything.

"He's awake."

* * *

We are living in the war How far were we lying? We are living in the war Who'll listen to your prayers? We are living in the war

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#fic: collateral #yoongi mafia #yoongi angst #namjoon mafia #namjoon angst #namgi smut #namgi #bts poly #bts mafia #bts smut #bts angst

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ratedfleur · 1 year ago

Text

burn it all up.

a series of murders have been planned and accomplished in that very building, only for a group to find out remains of bodies. Now, who will solve these series of mysteries left behind?

zb1 & y/n 8.4k word count genre ୭ mystery

🏷️ : dark content = murders, arson, cursing (and a lot of that), knives, guns, blood, stabbing, corpses, use of morphine & naloxone, y/n is deadass crazy but everyone is crazy in their own ways.

🗒️: as always, likes / reblogs / comments are very appreciated! happy reading! 🗡️

🎼 : the blue danube, Op. 314 (i suggest playing this when you see a 🎼 later :) )

Zero University was an odd school, it was miles away from the city, nearly 3 hours away from the city if you took the train. The students themselves were odd, always drowning in the blood red colored uniform, eyes always had themselves fixated on the new students, finding the new faces odd and nearly disgusting.

You and these 9 men you called friends were people who you chose to bond with after they practically adopted you after you looked like a poor puppy dropped by the dumpster when you were forced to study in Zero University by your narcissistic parents who only cared about themselves.

“Do we really have to go in there?” Yujin whined as they step foot in front of the old shed that was now mysteriously left unlocked after it had been always locked with a huge padlock and chain even years before.

“Aw baby, you scared already?” You teased as he whined once more from beside you, pulling you close to him while Gunwook was scowling behind you and the youngest, bitter that stole his girlfriend away from him.

With Gyuvin and Ricky leading the way, the two opened the old door to the shed only to see nothing but rusty shelves, gardening tools, a few bags of dirt, and a pallet of wood in the far corner.

“Well so much for an adventure.” Jiwoong says as he’s looking around, fumbling with the gardening tools before Gunwook called out to him.

“Woongie hyung, Mattchu hyung, help me with this.” Gunwook said and called out to the two as he stood up straight after trying to lift up the pallet of wood.

The two come at his calling with Jiwoong holding onto one corner of the wood while Matthew was doing the other corner whilst Gunwook was in the middle, lifting up the pallet with the two’s help.

The group went up to them, watching as they put away the pallet to the side before Jiwoong pulled off the old fabric that was lying on the ground– only to reveal a dirt made staircase. “The fuck?” Jiwoong said as he turned his flashlight on from his phone, studying where the dirt staircase led to.

“What the fuck indeed.” You commented before walking right up to them with your flashlight on, heading down confidently to figure out what the staircase of dirt would lead to.

“Noona, wait for me!” Yujin called out to you as you kept descending down the stairs, unbothered by the ants and worms on the dirt. You stopped walking to wait for Yujin who linked his arms into yours while the others followed, you stepped to the side before letting today’s leader lead the way – Ricky and Gyuvin.

“Dude, stop pushing and shoving.” Gyuvin groaned when Ricky was pushing him as they lead the way down the dirt stairs. “That’s why you need to hurry the fuck up, scaredy cat.” Ricky snickered when Gyuvin’s steps started picking up the pace as he led them all down the stairs. Gyuvin’s steps came to a halt when they reached a metal door after what seemed like countless of steps.

“It’s just a door..” Gyuvin says while turning around to face the rest, flashing them in the face with his phone’s flashlight.

“And what do we do with a door, just look at it? Gyubin-ah, you’re so cute.” Ricky cooed as Gyuvin rolled his eyes at him.

The two kept arguing before Jiwoong descended down from where he was, stopping the fight between the two by reaching for the rusty door knob, rattling it a few times before he took a few steps back before abruptly slamming his shoulder on the wooden door, repeating it a few more times before the door staggers, merely releasing dust into the air.

“Wook-ah, give me a hand. Everyone, back up,” Jiwoong says as the younger comes down, Gunwook takes a few steps back like what Jiwoong was doing before they slammed their shoulders on the door, repeating it a few times before the upper part of the door breaks open, making the two take the bottom part by stomping on it.

“Aw look at you two, so cool.” Gyuvin says as he bravely stepped inside what it seemed like an old bunker.

Gyuvin immediately grimaces before he gags, covering his mouth and nose as he lead the way.

The rest quickly follow in, faces scrunching up at the stench as they walked further into the dark bunker. It was dark inside, no light could get into the bunker as they were deep into the ground. The bunker was not fully replenished with what it should have, instead, it was a simple dark room that reeked of something that they couldn’t figure out.

“Should we really be in here? I mean, there’s nothing to see.” Yujin said with you linking your arm around his as the group kept walking further into the huge bunker.

Nobody responded, instead, they kept walking and flashing their flashlights around to see whatever they could amidst the darkness.

The group was filled with banter as they kept walking, not until Matthew called out to the rest who stood behind him. The hand that held up his phone shook, flashlight shaking as he pointed it to the ground.

“What the fuck is that..” Matthew’s voice trembled as he bent down to further look at what he saw lying on the ground.

He could feel his heart thumping against his chest as he came into view with what he saw.

A severed hand.

Matthew gags as he stand up straight, stumbling away from the group as they called out to him. He gags before spitting on the ground before he looks up in horror, only for his flashlight to land on another severed hand.

“Metyu-yah, are you okay?” Jiwoong called out to him, holding up the flashlight to look at a pale Matthew, he holds onto the younger’s shoulders, helping the man stand up on stable feet.

“Hyung, it’s just a petty prop. Pretty cool huh?” Gunwook laughed as he held it up, waving at the rest who chuckled at the man’s antics.

Matthew doesn’t say anything but instead he stays by Jiwoong’s side.

They were joking around, saying how it looked like a realistic prop for a play. “Maybe we could get props for the drama club in here, maybe there’s a dead body too.” Gunwook joked as they kept walking not until they saw a pile of rotting bodies.

The rotting bodies were being swarmed with flies, maggots were squirming around on the bodies’ open wounds, liquids were pooling on the ground they were laying on.

“What the fuck–” Matthew curses before he stumbles out of Jiwoong’s hold, gagging as he covered his mouth after he saw the horrid sight.

“Holy shit, that’s fucking disgusting.” You said as you flashed your flashlight to look at the bodies.

The rest were stunned upon seeing rotting flesh right in front of them, piles and piles of bodies just placed right next to each other. Some were fairly new, barely any rotting to begin with, whilst some were full on rotting with flies and worms moving on the rotten flesh.

“Y-yah, let’s go–” Matthew says before he gags once more, backing away from the group.

“Matthew-yah!” Hanbin called out to Matthew who didn’t turn back when he went up the stairs, gagging as he kept running up. He turns to face the group, “I’ll go after Matthew, you shouldn’t stay down here.” Hanbin says before he left them, chasing after Matthew.

Gyuvin, being the curious one of the group, he creeped up towards one of the bodies, kneeling down beside it with a hand covering his mouth and nose whilst studying the body. He poked at it with a random metal stick on the ground, touching and moving the skin.

He studied it whilst the rest conversed behind him, “This body is new..” he suddenly said before he stood up, facing the rest of them.

“Huh? How did you know that?” Taerae asked him as he tried to look at the body, “It’s not rotting yet, if it was buried down here for a while, it would’ve been rotting like the rest.” Gyuvin answers like he just pointed out the obvious.

“And that’s what you get for watching way too many medical dramas.” Ricky says before Gyuvin lunged at him, poking at his shoulder.

“But that doesn’t answer the question, who killed and brought them here?” Gunwook asks before he shivers at the thought of a killer just roaming around the halls of their very school.

Whilst the group kept conversing about the bodies and how they were possibly killed, Gunwook on the otherhand was spacing out from what he was hearing amidst his friends’ voices.

Help me.. They killed me.. He shot and brought me here.. They are monsters, murderers even.. Please, help us..

The voices said as Gunwook’s eyes roamed around the space before they landed on the poor bodies right beside them. His heart thumped when the voices suddenly screamed, making Gunwook flinch.

“Hyung, you okay?” Yujin asked as he reached for Gunwook’s shoulder, pulling him out of his reverie. The older nodded, making Yujin smile at him.

“Yeah, we should just go.” Gunwook says.

Gyuvin chuckles before he teased the younger, “Why? You afraid already?”

Gunwook rolled his eyes at him and flashed his middle finger at him, making the latter laugh.

“Don’t you want to solve this? I mean, a bunker full of bodies near our school that’s practially miles away from the city..” Taerae commented whilst looking over at the others who looked like they were deep in thought.

You stayed silent, watching as they were actually visibly thinking about what Taerae said.

The school was known for being miles away from the city, the people who founded the school believed that it was better to be far away from distractions. That was the sole reason why the university was far away from the rest, the only place beside it was the school’s dormitory and nothing else. If one wanted to buy something from the establishments like a mall or even dine out, you had to take a train for 3 hours.

“I mean, don’t we have to report this to the police too? There must be at least one near us..” Yujin questioned with his voice decreasing in volume at the end, seeming like he was unsure with his own words.

Gunwook nodded, agreeing with the youngest.

“And then? Risk the potential of us finding out who killed these people? Don’t you want to be awarded for something like that?” Taerae asked the group innocently, looking right at Gunwook and Yujin.

The two youngest eyed each other before Yujin saw how Gunwook visibly shivered once more, “It work hurt, right hyung?” Yujin asked with his doe eyes which has Gunwook actually thinking if he should join this potentially mind boggling mission.

“Wook-ah, we’ll be fine. We’ll just get justice for these losers.” Gyuvin poked the closest one’s shoulder with his foot.

With the others convincing him, Gunwook finally agreed and nodded at them. “Fine, no trouble or else, I’m out.” he says with intent in his words as the rest nodded, “Now help me turn some of them over, we need names.” Hao said before he went over to one of the bodies that were flipped over, face flat on the dirt.

Gunwook walked with heavy steps, still feeling unsure with what they were doing. Nonetheless, he still helped Hao flip the bodies over with a frown on his face. He could feel himself get sick when he saw that one of the bodies had a hollow face, already sunken into the skull.

After that, he stayed a few steps behind them as Taerae and Gyuvin studied the bodies as Gyuvin was well knowledged about bodies since he came from a family of doctors. Gunwook simply listened to Gyuvin tell the group about the injuries and possible deaths these people experienced as Jiwoong assisted him in lifting one of the newer bodies, examining them for injuries.

2 hours later, the group declared that they were all people who came from the school: the old principal, Seokhee who was one of the students who tormented Yujin and a few juniors, Jinyoung who was one of the jocks who practically everyone hated, Hwayoung the queen bee, Chaerin and Haein who were her minions.

And these were people who were announced as people who left school with no question, simply choosing to leave and expel themselves.

“Damn, she deserved that.” Gyuvin commented whilst Jiwoong clicked his tongue, “Have some respect, Gyuvin-ah.” the eldest commented as they were all climbing up the stairs after leaving the bunker after they deemed that they examined the bodies just enough for the day.

They went back into the building after leaving the bunker and the shed, conversing ever so often about what they saw. By the time that night hit, Gunwook was left in bed thinking about all the events that happened that very day.

How could it go from normally going to school, roaming around the university ground before they discover a hidden bunker under the school with dead people in them? Gunwook himself couldn’t answer his own questions, let alone the questions in his head about the voices he heard in the bunker.

Gunwook knew spirits could talk to him, he knew that since he was practically a child who was playing with his toy cars not until a child like voice asked from beside him, “Hi, can I play too?”

Gunwook brushed it off, trying not to think about that day’s events before he went off to dreamland, leaving behind all of the troubles he’ll meet with in the morning.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“He’s just a little gullible guy, huh?” One says.

“It’s all this kid’s doing, praise him.” The other says as he ruffles said person’s hair.

“Now that we’ve begun, don’t fuck up or else I’ll will not hesitate to kill you myself.” One says before leaving the group who murmured at their words.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“I found out more about the university, the school was founded by Lee Jimin. Yes, thee Lim Jimin who was a murderer in South Korea. What the media didn’t release is that all of the murders were done on the very ground that the university stands on. But nearly a decade later, another murder was done by a student named Park, the media didn’t release his full name because apparently the family paid them not to. They said he was going crazy over a student they hid by the name of Y because she didn’t like him back, that’s the sole reason why he killed her here and buried her on the campus grounds.” Hao says to the group once they were huddled together in Jiwoong’s dorm, the biggest dorm of all because he was a senior.

“All because she didn’t like him back? That’s tragic..” Yujin muttered from his seat, the rest nodded.

“Anyway, what else did you find? Did you find any information about those in the bunker?” you asked, swiftly switching the topic before Hao nodded, “Taerae and Gyuvin did.” he says while looking up from the laptop.

“Well I dug around with the school files and Principal Kim, Seokhee, Jinyoung, Hwayoung, Chaerin, and Haein were all marked under voluntary leave which is rather unusual since the school prohibits that even with the staff.” Taerae said as he pulled out his ipad, showing the pdf copies to the group.

“Okay, that’s weird.. Did the papers mark when they left?” Matthew asked.

Taerae shook his head, “They were blank which is unusual too, all records of leaving the premises should be written down if they were permitted to do so which is probably hard to do so.” he adds.

The group is left in question as they were deciphering whether what happened to those very bodies. They then decided that they would be working in pairs to find out more about those people, whilst you, Taerae, and Hao worked together to find out more about the bunker.

“Okay but then if it went over to the left–” “Just get an overview of the school’s grounds with the shed.” “That shit wouldn’t work, Y/N. I tried it earlier.” “Jesus, let me do it.”

Hao broke off you and taerae’s argument before he took over the laptop, pressing in directions before the system scanned the school’s location – and finally, this included the shed.

He smiles triumphantly before he showed you and taerae who were in awe as the screen showed an x-ray version of the building along with whatever is underground. “Okay, but what separates the school and the bunker? There should be something that lies between those two..” you muttered before typing on the laptop, trying to figure out what material separated the two.

Meanwhile the rest were dreading the fact that they couldn’t find anything else about the people other than they just vanished into thin air, no warning or even letters left behind even for their family members.

“So these people are practically nobodies out of the school..” Matthew commented as he sat beside Jiwoong who stayed still, watching each and everyone’s facial expressions.

You hummed, standing up from your seat while pacing back and forth, visibly thinking about what to do next. Gunwook calls out to you, making you look at him once you stopped walking, he ushers you to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around you once you sat.

“Ease your mind, hmm? Let’s think about this together.” he whispers to you, making you nod as you leaned into his embrace. “What about we burn the building down?” You suddenly say, making 9 heads look over to you at a snap.

“What?” “Are you crazy?” “This is absurd!” “Noona, I don’t think that’s a good idea..” and another series of sentences came right at you.

“Okay look. If we burn the building down, people won’t know about the bodies or the bunker. If the staff or students find out that we are the only ones who know about that bunker and whatever is inside that bunker, we’re going to be framed for murder.” You said to them in a calm manner, telling them about your thoughts.

“And arson is a less of a crime?” Hanbin says to you, making you deadpan.

“I hate this building, I hate this school, I hate those who roam in it as if the school isn’t some fucked up organization. Don’t you feel the same?” You asked back, making Hanbin look away from you, ignoring those eyes of yours that knew his answer.

You looked over at the rest who looked away from your questioning eyes, including Gunwook. Sighing, you stood up and slid your boyfriend’s arm off of your shoulder as you went back to pacing back and forth.

Gunwook watched as you paced silently, feeling concerned that you were really into bringing this mystery murder down. He stands up and walks up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders, stopping you from pacing any further.

“Okay, I’m in. Just no dying or killing each other, okay?” Gunwook told you as he comfortably rubbed your shoulders, making you purse your lips together before you saw him smile gently at you.

“Okay, I’m not killing you, no worries.” You chuckle when Gunwook laughs.

“But how do we execute what you’re planning?” Hao asked, making you turn to look at him.

“Well, we do know that the bunker and building is separated by a thin piece of barrier, which if things go wrong up here, it could burn down and crumble, crushing the bodies and hiding whatever happened in the bunker.” Taerae answers for you, making you nod in agreement.

“And the people and staff?” Matthew asks.

“We kill them too, easy.” Jiwoong replies, shrugging as if it was a normal answer.

“I know you hate the people in here too, Metyu-yah.” The eldest adds, knowing that the rest of you fully agree with him because the people in the school are insufferable.

“Okay so that’s settled, we hate this place and the people in it. So how are we going to burn this place down?” Matthew asks everyone, watching as everyone simultaneously pursed their lips together.

Hanbin claps his hands together, catching everyone’s attention. “So I was thinking–” He said as he opened his ipad up, opening the drawing app before he started telling everyone about his plan.

One night later, the plan is complete. Things were settled that to burn the building down, fuel cans would be subtly hid on all floors and at every end of the hallways, heavy duty lighters would be bought, knives and guns would be purchased by Jiwoong, and then it was settled that the plan would be executed on accomplishment day, a day wherein students aren’t allowed to exit the premises because they need to accomplish their school requirements for the year.

“I already bought the fuel, it’s arriving on saturday.” Ricky told the group as he was in charge of purchasing the fuel, meanwhile the group were looking at the school calendar to plan which day they would execute their plan. The current month was already filled with events, except for the 4 days, the completion of requirements.

“Well, the 17th, 20th, 23rd, and 26th are all available.” Hanbin recalls as he was a part of the student council which was an advantage to the group.

You nod before walking over to the calendar plastered on the wall, you looked and browsed over to the dates Hanbin mentioned before you took out the marker in your pocket and encircled 26th.

“26th, that’s final. Let’s burn this shit down.” You say before smirking as you turned around to face them, making the rest cheer.

Dawn on the 26th soon came, everything was all set – fuel cans were installed, security cameras and speakers were hacked, the metal doors were set to lock by the time the clock striked 11:30, the tent with all the devices were set right by the shed just hiding in plain sight, guns and knives were distributed and the plan was set.

A few handful of the staff and students were forming an idea due to the group’s sudden absences especially during attendance in the dorms, a daily routine when everyone is set to stay in the dorms when the clock strikes 7.

With everyone busy accomplishing their requirements, everyone except the group were in the classrooms along with staffs and professors monitoring their moves, though they failed because there were 10 who aren’t in their respective classrooms.

Now seated at the tent with Hanbin and Taerae, you let the 7 formulate their own plans on how to move around the school once the clock strikes 11 with lights shut down to a dim with doors automatically locked to keep everyone in their rooms before the school is burnt down.

“Okay, let’s get things straight. Taerae, Hanbin, and I are staying at the tent to monitor your moves through the system, we’ll assist you if some things happen.” You said through the earpieces, monitoring their body heat through the scanners that’s interconnected through the outdoor camera pointed towards the school.

The group nods, “Meanwhile Jiwoong and Matthew are monitoring the halls along with Gyuvin who’d come along later on.” You add, seeing how they nodded through the heat scanners.

“For now, stay clear from their eyes. We don’t want them to know who is the mastermind behind all this, are we clear?” You said but you heard no reply, you called out to them whilst watching them through the monitor, switching camera views only to have the camera covered by a cloth, one of the tactics since the school might’ve caught onto the group.

Meanwhile Yujin, Gunwook, Hao, Ricky, and Gyuvin were talking amidst each other, temporarily closing their connection from their in-ears because they mistakenly left a window open, letting an administrator peek through the windows, studying their faces before Yujin, being the closest one, shut the curtains.

“Shit, they saw us right?” Yujin asked as he shut the curtains closed, eyes shaking as he turned around to face the rest.

“They–”

Hao wasn’t able to continue what he was saying when suddenly the door knob started rattling, as if someone was in a hurry to open the door and barge right in.

Yujin stood frozen in his spot when suddenly, someone was pounding on the door, asking for help on whoever was inside the room.

“Please! I need help, someone was chasing me with a knife and then–” The voice cried out from behind the door, sounds of desperate crying were heard as the group were quietly eyeing each other, not knowing what to do before suddenly a blood curdling scream interrupted her own words.

They stayed silent not until they heard bubbling right outside the door, seeming like someone was being strangled right outside. What Gunwook didn’t know is that the very person behind the door was Jiwoong and Matthew strangling a girl who got in the way of their purge.

“Shut the fuck up.” Jiwoong mutters as he cuts the girl’s arm, giving her a warning to shut her mouth before Matthew picked her up over his shoulder, letting the blood from her head’s injury drip on the floor as he kept walking towards a room they left vacant as a storage to keep those who got in their way after they severely injured them.

“Now what?” Matthew asked once he dropped the body down on the floor, not listening to her cries.

“We kill.” Jiwoong says as he and Matthew left the room, letting the younger lock up the room with a chain and a series of locks.

The two walked along the halls, eyes digging into those who attempted to leave the classrooms where they were forced to stay in the moment that the sun set. Their eyes were sharp, immediately catching those to attempted to escape, Jiwoong killed by firing his gun whilst Matthew kicked them down onto the ground before cutting them – a mere warning if they attempted to escape once more, to which they did, resulting to dying from another gunshot from Jiwoong’s gun.

Matthew and Jiwoong then separated ways upon Taerae’s message through the in-ears they all have, making sure to communicate with each other for the night to go well.

Jiwoong went out of the building to be with you, Taerae, and Hanbin to monitor everyone’s positions and locations in the building, making sure to precisely tell anyone to go to whatever place they need to be.

“Now hyung, you do know what to do right?” Hanbin asked through the in ears as he was sitting right across Taerae and you who controlled the in-ears while monitoring them through the x-ray system with trackers in their in-ears.

Hao nods as he’s walking through the halls as if people weren’t crying out to him from the locked classroom doors. “Yep, burst the fuel cans up and light it up when i’m in the middle.” He says as he’s fiddling with the lighter, whistling as he’s crazily waving at those who cried in front of the classroom windows.

He was just walking casually not until the in-ears started to release static noises before sounds of calling were heard.

“Wait… Hao hyung.. Hao hyung, get out!” Taerae said through the earpiece, multiple alarmed voices blasting through Hao’s earpiece.

“What? But I haven’t even—“ “Forget the plan, burn the place up when you get out!” Jiwoong now said through his earpiece, making Hao curse as he ran through the halls, hand reaching into his pocket for the lighter.

Multiple voices were panicking in his earpiece, making Hao panic as he kept running through the halls.

“I swear to fucking god, you have got to get out of there!” Ricky cursed in chinese as he himself was running down the staircase, frantically running as he hurriedly tried to escape the building.

“I know— Fuck, just hold on!” Hao replied to Ricky in chinese as he dodged the falling pieces of the crumbling ceilings, he passed by bloody bodies on the ground being burned by the small lit fires, smelling vile as he ran pass them.

“Hyung, turn right into the corner and run down the stairs.” “Copy.” Taerae and Hao conversed as the older hurriedly ran into the corner and down the stairs as instructed, letting out a sound of pain when his skin touches a slither of metal.

“Fuck!” Hao cursed as he held onto his bleeding scratch, steps coming into a halt when he reaches three different hallways down the staircase.

“Taerae-yah, which one? Hurry!” Hao said as he frantically tried to look into the hallways, only for his eyes to land on burning and crumbling ceilings.

Hao reached up to touch his earpiece when he hears nothing, he calls out to them. “Taerae yah? Jiwoong hyung? Ricky! Oh shit!” Hao cursed once more when a piece of the ceiling dropped behind him, making him stumble a few steps before he randomly chose a hallway.

Hao kept running through what it seemed like an endless hallway, finally reaching a exit that the group isn’t aware about. He had no choice but to exit this way, already knowing what his fate would be if he went back and tried to exit through their planned exit.

Hao stumbled right outside, falling onto the pavement as another piece fell behind him. His hands were scratched up as he tried to get on his feet, only for him to sit down as he watched pieces of the building crumble to the ground.

“Ricky? Ricky, fucking answer me! Where are you!” Hao’s hands trembled as he pressed onto his earpiece, only to hear a series of static sounds before multiple voices cracking up were heard.

“Gunwook— Yujin ah? Yujin-ah? Yujin, where’s Ricky!” hao screamed when he got a stable signal, only to hear uneven breathing.

“H-hyung, he’s still inside. I c-couldn’t!” The youngest cried into the earpiece whilst Gunwook’s faint voice was heard, comforting the youngest.

“We couldn't get to him, he was way too deep into the fire.” Gunwook spoke into the earpiece, making Hao curse in frustration as he angrily cursed into the wind.

“i’m going back in—“ Hao says.

“Hao, don’t even try to!” Hanbin says to him, sounds of typing heard.

“I’m getting Ricky whether you like it or not.” Hao says firmly as he stood up, running back into the burning building.

“Hao no!” was the last thing he heard.

“No, what the fuck hyung!” Hanbin frustratedly said before standing up, taking the headset off before running off, not listening to you, Taerae, or Jiwoong calling out to him.

“We can’t just let him go, Oppa..” You said before standing up, slipping off your headset, meanwhile Taerae and Jiwoong looked at you with a hesitant look on their faces.

“Okay fine.” Taerae sighed as he slipped his own headset off, running off with you and Jiwoong to run after Hanbin who ran straight into the burning building without looking back.

Hanbin desperately ran and called out to Hao, looking for the older who was looking for Ricky in the dark halls that were soon going to be swallowed up by the flames.

“Hao hyung! Fuck, where are you!” Hanbin called out to him, running into the flames despite some of his clothing getting caught in them.

Gunwook, now alone after Yujin said he’d look after Ricky too before he went on his own ways. Gunwook then walked towards a different hallway, looking around with his flashlight in hand, calling out to Ricky ever so often.

He runs into a few people, all bloody from their stabs. The people desperately went up to him, touching his hands as they asked him for help. Gunwook touches their shoulders to keep them off of him, pushing them away before he spoke to them.

“Run into that corridor, you’ll find help.” He says while pointing them at that direction whilst they ran, running towards their deaths when they reached a dead end with flames.

He continues walking straight ahead of him, still calling out to Ricky.

Gunwook turns into a corner, strides getting slower because of the unstable floors that looked like it was going to fall underneath him. He kept walking, not until he could hear voices from afar.

“Hey, you shouldn’t be in here.” He said, looking around for bodies who’s voices they belonged to. Seeing nothing, he kept walking ahead of him not until he saw a group of people standing in the middle of the hallway with clown masks on.

He stood still for a moment, hiding behind a pillar as he listened to them speak. Gunwook couldn’t recognize these voices, these people had voice changers in them, making Gunwook think that the killers are in the building – something they didn’t expect to happen or plan about.

Gunwook quickly touches his ear piece, “People are here in the hallway, they’re wearing masks with like voice changers in them. Guys? Taerae? Y/n?” he says before standing flat against the wall with his back placed against it.

He listens a few more times before he creeps in closer before he stood right in the middle, clutching his gun and knife in its straps against his body.

Gunwook could tell the group were arguing, practically screaming at each other, nearly ripping each other’s heads off if they could.

“You should back the fuck off before I get my hands on you, I swear to god! I will fucking kill you, we nearly lost him because of your fucking stupidity!”

“For your fucking information, it was his fault we nearly fucked up!”

🎼

“No! You fucked this up, Ricky-yah!” Gyuvin said to Ricky who looked at him with sharp eyes.

“I didn’t do shit, Gyuvin. I was supposed to run and kill them not until the fucking building started crumbling down–” Ricky defended himself before Matthew cut him off. “Yeah and then it all went bloody wrong because someone put the fuel and set fire at the wrong floor.” Matthew says before he looked over at a guilty Hanbin.

“In my defense, everything was going wrong the moment Hao decided to run back in–” Hanbin defended himself before you stopped them from arguing even more.

“Everyone shut the fuck up! You all fucked this shit up, you were supposed to follow the plan just until we corner Gunwook to burn down–” You said before you heard a sound behind you, immediately whipping your head only to meet eyes with Gunwook.

His eyes were confused, trying to decipher who you were. He stayed silent as he was looking over at you before they shifted to look behind you, looking at the other guys.

You turned your head to look back at the group, cursing them through your eyes. Through their own clown masks, you could easily tell how their eyes avoided your piercing ones. Turning around swiftly, you faced the very love of your life – or rather the very bane of your existence.

“Hello, my love.” You smiled through the mask, hands fiddling with the knife you had that was dripping with blood.

You could see how his eyes were visibly confused, eyes shifting from every pair of eyes that he could slowly recognize through the silicone clown masks.

Then reality struck him, Gunwook was being fooled by everyone else, including you, his girlfriend.

“Baby wait no.. Y/N, you were the killer all along?” Gunwook asked as he stood right in front of you, hands all red from all of the bloody bodies that he touched as they begged him for help.

“Why baby? Is there something wrong? I’m just like you are, Gunwook. Or rather, you are just like your older brother. ” You smiled at him as the 10 of you all stood in a burning hallway before a group of students ran frantically past you all, screaming and crying as they hurriedly ran towards the exits.

“In fact, we are all the same. Brutal murderers who are hiding in plain sight.” Jiwoong said as he stood right next to you.

“W-wait.. My brother? What did Gunhoo hyung do with me and these killings?” Gunwook cluelessly asked as he flinched when he saw someone stumble right beside him, all bloody as she crawled on the ground, heading towards the exit.

“Your fucking brother killed my sister right here just because she didn’t like him back!” You spat angrily at him with fury burning in your eyes just like the fires in the building.

“And you are going to fucking pay for that.” You said as you handed Gunwook a sparkwheel lighter forcefully, shoving it in his hand. Gunwook twisted and turned the lighter in his hand as he looked at it, still unsure about what he was going to do.

“Do not, under any circumstance, try to run away from me, Gunwook-ah. I will not hesitate to kill you with my own hands just like how your brother killed my sister.” You warned him as you came close to him, a glint of anger flashing in your eyes as you showed him the bloody knife, blade shining on the blinking ceiling lights.

Gunwook nodded with a shake in his eyes, hand enveloping the lighter as he let you led the way out of the burning school. You walked confidently right in front of him as the rest of the boys walked behind him, practically guarding Gunwook from running away.

“What happened to your sister?” Gunwook quietly asked from behind you, making you turn your head to look at him before chuckling, “It started when your brother chased after her desperately, trying to get her on a date. Things were normal not until he went crazy, killing her in that fucking bunker.” you spat.

“Why can’t you love me back?” Gunhoo questioned your sister as she lied flat on the ground as Gunhoo kneeled above her body, keeping her down.

She whimpers when he takes out a knife, the blade shines under the white light of the bunker he took her to. She visibly shakes when Gunhoo presses the knife’s blade against her neck, just pressing right at her skin.

“I just wanted poor you to love me but then you didn’t do what you’re supposed to. I’m assuming you wouldn’t want me to put an end to your agony, huh?” He questioned once more before he took the knife away from her neck, throwing it on the dirt beside him.

“Just one vile of this and I’ll let you die a sweet and short one.” Gunhoo smiles with a glint in his eyes as he waves the vial of morphine right in front of her eyes.

“All i wanted was for you to love me, that was it.” He says whilst taking the cap off of the syringe before he flicked his middle finger against it, taking the bubbles out of the syringe before he slipped the needle into her skin, making her whimper against the fabric in her mouth, she wails loudly when Gunhoo takes it out of her, throwing it aside just like his knife.

“P-please.. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to leave my sister– a-alone..” She choked on her own saliva as she cried.

“Oh no baby, you won’t die just yet. Just 9 more minutes before you succumb to your death.” Gunhoo smiles before he sat himself down beside her, watching as she cried and sobbed, begging for him to stop and let her live instead.

Just a few minutes later, she was convulsing on the ground as she seizured right beside Gunhoo who simply watched as the love of his life took her last few breaths before he left the bunker, leaving her to rot before he lived his life – living freely before he got caught after a year.

“I didn’t know, I swear. If I knew then–” Gunwook said before he flinched at you abruptly pushing the exit wide open, doors slamming against the wall.

“Then what, Gunwook? Would you have brought my sister to life? No, so shut the fuck up.” You told him coldly before you walked right out of the building with the rest following suit, leaving Gunwook slightly behind them before he followed, steps hesitant as he could smell wood burning.

Walking right out of the building, you and the rest took your masks off, face tainted with blood and cuts from those who struggled in your hands as they mercilessly died.

“Since the fuckers fucked the plan up, we’ll go straight for the end. Gunwook, burn this shit down. Burn everything down that includes all of the pain my sister went through because of your dumb fuck of a brother.” You said with a stoic look on your face as you stared right in front of you, staring at the school building, watching as flames ate up the inside as screams and smoke came out from the opened windows.

You watched cruelly as you caught sight of a student staring directly at you, desperately calling and asking you for help.

Gunwook gulps when Matthew bumps his shoulder with his, “Hurry or else, you’re going to die along with them.” the older says before he sits himself by Gunwook’s feet who stayed frozen on the grass.

Jiwoong on the otherhand was watching Gunwook hesitate and fumble around with the lighter, looking back and forth from you and the school. “Y/n, I can’t– please.” Gunwook called out to you, making your head whip back to look at him with your furious eyes.

“Do it or else I’m bringing you into the building myself before burning it down.” You say while you walked towards him, pulling onto his collar as he resisted. “Fine fine, fuck! I’ll do it!” Gunwook exclaimed before you let go of his collar, pushing him a few steps towards the building.

Gunwook shakily held up the lighter in his hand before he walked a few steps towards the building’s entrance that you left open, not until he suddenly backtracked and sighed as he faced you.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t..” Gunwook’s voice quivered as he spoke, making you scream in frustration as you kept rambling and cursing at him. “One. Fucking. Job. Gunwook-ah, you just need to fucking burn this shit down! Fuck! I could kill you myself, Park Gunwook!” You cursed and screamed at him, looking like a maniac with blood staining your skin.

His eyes shook as he looked at you, throwing the lighter down at the ground which causes you to become even more furious. He watches as you screamed once more before abruptly grabbing something in your pocket before you threw something at the ground. You turn your head slightly to meet eyes with Jiwoong and Matthew before they walked right up to Gunwook, grabbing the younger by his shoulders, forcing him to lie on his back on the ground.

“W-wait, I’ll do it! Fuck– I told you I’ll do it! I’ll burn it down!” Gunwook struggled in the two older men’s hold as he was forcefully put on the ground whilst you walked up to him with a full syringe in hand.

You shook your head at him, getting on your knees as you crawled your way on top of Gunwook’s torso. Clicking your tongue, Jiwoong held down Gunwook’s arm flat on the ground before you leaned down with a smile as you looked at Gunwook who kept trashing around.

“Decide and I won’t kill you.” You said as you forcefully pulled up Gunwook’s sleeve before pressing the syringe into his arm, making Gunwook groan and trash around despite having a needle in him that put morphine in his system.

“Y/N.” Hao warned you, making you whip your head to look back at the older with furious eyes.

“Don’t start.” his eyes say to you, making you roll your eyes before you turned to face Gunwook who kept thrashing underneath you, Jiwoong, and Matthew.

“So? Have you decided?” You tutted as an evil smile was forming on your face as Gunwook kept thrashing around, making him nod as you asked him a question.

“Yes! I’ll– I’ll help you!” Gunwook shouted before you smiled, “Good boy. Hao oppa, naloxone please.” You said before a little bottle and a sterile syringe was handed over to you, precisely getting the exact amount to kill the morphine in Gunwook’s body.

You get off of Gunwook, letting the two men let go of him whilst he was catching his breath, eyes filled with whatever emotion he was feeling. You honestly couldn’t tell, all you could think off was how badly you wanted this damn of a school to burn down along with your sister’s horrid memories.

Paying no mind to Gunwook who hurriedly sat up, getting up on shaky legs as he looked for the lighter you gave him a few moments prior that he threw down on the ground. His hand is shaky when he fumbles around with it, thumb flicking the cap open before watching the flame light up before shutting the cap.

Keeping your eyes on Gunwook, you signal Jiwoong and Matthew to stay guard behind him, ready to tackle him down if he doesn’t do his job well. You kept the idea in your mind that if Gunwook doesn’t burn the school down, you’re injecting him with morphine before throwing him into the pits of fire, letting him die a tragic one.

Jiwoong and Matthew stay guard, knives in hand to slit Gunwook’s skin if he backs out. Meanwhile the group were watching everything unveil – the school slowly burning and crumbling from the inside and out, you having your eyes fixated on Gunwook and him only, and Jiwoong and Matthew behind him.

Gunwook walks up to the entrance with his shaky steps, he stays a few steps back from the entrance of podium before he flicks the lighter open, watching the flame quiver and shake in the air before he took a deep breath and a few steps back before he threw the lighter onto the fuel can by the entrance door before it exploded, making him flinch as he stumbled onto the ground, crawling backwards as the school started to fully burn up.

“See? It wasn’t so bad.” You smiled as you watched the outer side of the building get eaten up by the flames, the screams and cries getting louder as the fire led to the inside. You crazily played The Blue Danube through the school’s speakers where they play the morning announcements, you smiled as you sat down on the grass, watching as the higher parts of the building started crumbling down, crushing the two floors underneath it.

With the flame eating the building up, the red and orange colors illuminated the night, flames coming out through the windows, shards exploding on the ground.

With the smile etched on your face, Gunwook no longer recognized you from the woman he loved, you turned crazy within a span of minutes. He watched as you watched and laughed as parts of the building started crumbling down to the ground, screams and cries dying down from the inside of the building.

Meanwhile the rest were now staying a few steps back from you and Gunwook, eyes fixated on the building. For once, they felt triumphant in their lives as the place they hated most died right in front of them.

Jiwoong and Matthew were standing alongside each other, smiling at the other when they meet eyes. Hanbin, Hao, and Yujin were standing in a line as they had their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Ricky and Gyuvin triumphantly laughed and celebrated when the building now crumbled down, only having the lower half before it fell and covered the bunker up. Meanwhile Taerae simply had his eyes fixated on the building with no emotions present on his face.

You looked back at the group, smiling at them when they looked down at you.

“So? Now what?” Taerae suddenly spoke, making you look over at him before you got on your feet, facing them.

Meeting eyes with gunwook, he looked at you like you were a stranger, just how you liked it. He had a frown on his face as he stared at you, not liking how you looked to him.

“Come with us and I will spare your life.” You told Gunwook with your mask in hand, handing it over to him as if it was an invitation. He looked at you bitterly before his eyes shifted down to your bloodied hand and mask.

“And if I don’t?” He asks.

“We’ll force you to or you can choose to die, your pick.” Taerae comments from behind Gunwook, making the younger briefly turn his head to look at him before looking back at you who still had the mask out for him to take.

“What will I get in return–” “Jesus fucking christ, you get your life!” You exclaim, dropping the mask on the ground after you got frustrated with his antics.

“Do you really want to die because I could kill you—” You said, stomping right over to Gunwook before you held his collar tightly before Jiwoong went over and pulled you off of Gunwook. “I’m going to fucking kill you instead, get it together.” The eldest said to you as you struggled in his hold, trashing around and screaming at him to let you go.

Gunwook watched as you cursed and trashed around, trying to get Jiwoong to let go of you. “Fuck, let go of me! I’m not going to kill him!” You screamed and scratched Jiwoong’s arm that he had wrapped around you, making him wince as he let go of you.

“If I can’t kill him, I’ll kill you instead.” You told Jiwoong as you took your knife out of its casing on your thigh, taking it out and pointing it at Jiwoong who deadpanned at you before putting his hands up, surrendering.

“Don’t, I’ll join you..” Gunwook suddenly commented, making you turn to face him with the knife still in hand. You smiled crazily while walking over to him, twisting and turning the knife in your hand.

“Then welcome to hell, my love.” You say and smile at Gunwook.

#mikha's works.#zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x reader #zb1 jiwoong #zb1 zhanghao #zb1 hanbin #zb1 matthew #zb1 taerae #zb1 ricky #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 gunwook #zb1 yujin #murder mystery #kpop imagines #kpop smau

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