#phantomxmi

@phantomxmi

[/trigger warning: blood, gore, murder]

the warm red splattered everywhere, when the gang member prostrated with gargling sounds. he felt the blood running down his cheek. the fight between gangs was everything but beautiful. in this kind of world only the strongest survived. grim stared at the man to his feet, as he lit himself a cigarette. sounds of steps approaching fast could be heard from afar. seems like his victim had called for some backup. the male clicked his tongue, before deciding to retreat for now. he couldn't risk to be up against a group of enemys.

with fast steps, he run towards a nearby parked car. flicking his cigarette away, grim threw open the door and jumped inside. "drive!!" he yelled at his driver, when he saw the first pursuers only a few meters away. as soon as the engine began to roar, grim felt the tension leave his body and he leaned back with a sigh.

❝ honesty hour edition, accepting 

phantomxmi:

there aren’t many people who can break protocol for the girl who keeps her heart in a gilded cage, a viewing party for all those who may entertain the idea of breaking down her walls, but most of them can never scratch the surface anyways. all save for a certain kim jongin, who she had never intended to let in in the first place, but emotions were unpredictable, harboring little creatures who jumped at the first opportunity they found to latch on to a single person, and hyerin simply deems herself unlucky.

she supposes it could be worse, at least he wasn’t bad looking; no, kim jongin was easy on the eyes to say the least, a heavily inebriated song hyerin muses. perched at the bar table of lumin8 with her chin resting on her palms, she blatantly stares at the boy sitting across from her, who gives her a quirk of his brow with that same look of bemusement he seems to save for their endeavors.

in all honesty, she shouldn’t even be here in the first place, but fate had a funny way of saying ‘fuck you, hyerin!’ in the form of jongin suggesting celebratory drinks, and what was she supposed to do? say no? and so she’s here, having been physically incapable of forming a protest when he’d smiled at her initially, and song hyerin is a goner.

( weak, weak, weak. )

the first shot had burned, as does the few that come after it, but she’d gladly let jongin set her on fire, so what was she complaining about anyways? she does hope that he knows when enough is enough, however, when her words start slurring and her sentences incomprehensible. and she probably knows she sounds so inherently stupid at this point, but hopefully she wouldn’t even bother to remember it come morning; a few more shots should do the trick. emboldened by liquid courage coursing in her system, she opens her mouth to shred what last piece of dignity she has left, tilting her head as she grins, childlike in essence.

“oppa, you’re so pretty.”

and there it goes.

an inflation of ego, also known as narcissism, has somehow become a core player in his psyche. his profile would elaborate in details how he relishes in being flattered; it does distract him from the gnawing ennui. so, hyerin’s presence serves naught but as a means to validate his vain self, etching more confidence even when he doesn’t need such an addition per se. it’s not like people haven’t been climbing that ladder trying to reach the summit, where he’s seated calmly. he’s not waiting for anyone at this point, but hyerin seems to fall for the trap rather easily, and now she’s trying to clamber through the steps.

of course, it’s a mere distraction, welcomed. he’s now on the stool next to hers as he pours more of the drink into her glass, a smirk loaded with a thousand intents tugging at the corners of his lips. there’s nothing more entertaining than witnessing as these people push themselves to the point of inebriation, before choosing one of the following options: a. ) spilling their hearts on the bartop, everything laid bare across him to see, or b. ) lulling their minds to slumber, which is the worse out of the two, for it reaps him nothing but a liability. hyerin seems like the former, which is best.

「Generated Sentence Starter 」 | Status: Not Accepting!

███▓▒░░ My muse will... Boop your muse's nose. ░░▒▓███

neither of them were at the peak of their mood and one man was to blame for it. throughout the past days phantom seemed to be extremely out of her mind, constantly intoxicated by all kinds of liquors and awefully whiny. that wasn't the hyerin he had get to know better than most of the other hydrus members, since he didn't shared the bed with most hydrus members. but who was he to talk, when he was more agitated than normally. not that he was the calmest person in general, but the small amount of patience running through his veins had become basically nonexistent over the matters at hand. someone just needed to breathe out strangely and would have grim at his throat by seconds.

when hyerin was especially clingy and whiney about her beloved drifter being a fucking betrayer, he dragged her out of the headquarters to fill her up (and make her shut up because her whimsical cries were simply annonying and a freaking headache). dohwan forced her to sit down on a bar stool, making sure that she wouldn't fall over and urged the barkeeper to bring drinks fast. "drink up." he told the female, while gulping down his own drink in one go. the hitman was thirsty and he had no intention to hold back this time. sometimes it was just relieving to let himself go, and since they were in a bar that was under hydrus protection they had nothing to fear. besides each other maybe.

a starter for @phantomxmi

If there was one thing that Seungho couldn’t do well was to wait patiently. He was standing outside the amusement park with his phone out and sweat beading down the side of his head. He had only been waiting 10 minutes, but the heat only made the wait feel longer. It wasn’t like he could bring himself to complain about it to her because the moment he even opened his mouth to protest his unhappiness, those shining eyes of hers would cause him to shy away and huff like a child. That thought alone had him sucking his teeth and looking the other way while quietly murmuring to himself that he needs to start getting over his strange mentality towards women. How was he suppose to get married in the future if he couldn’t even talk to women properly? Perhaps he should have listened to his mom as a child and just toughened up --- he did, but not in the way she would approve of. Most of what he did he tried to keep under wraps but it was hard to do that when you were known to be loud, abrasive, and proud. He’s almost completely sure that, if given the chance, his parents would turn him over the military right now in hopes that he would get ‘reformed’ -- whatever that meant. 

Sighing, he lifted the cap that was on his head up so that he could run his hand through his damp hair. The momentary breath of air blowing across his head gave him a mild sense of relief and for a second he didn’t feel as irritated. He could at least be thankful for that much until he was bumped by a family of four who didn’t watch where they were stepping and his toe was run over by a stroller. It took a lot of self-control not to start a scene and pick a fight with the father who was the one navigating the contraption. He would have rather gone to the beach, but Hyerin didn’t like the idea of getting sand in her clothing. He tried not to picture how cute her face would have looked pouting at her unfortunate dilemma. Looking at his phone, he texted her to make sure she was on her way and not still doing ‘girl things’.

[ RINNIE : ] I’m melting. 

[ RINNIE : ] If you don’t get here in 5 minutes, I’m going in without you.

          there’s a few tell-tale signs, dead giveaways as mijoo calls them, because to be that obvious right in front of a cop is more daring than she’d expect to see. ( then again, she’d be the same way, because anyone can be swayed with the right words   —   if you have the ability to do so, there’s no crime too great to commit ) her partner looks amused when she turns on the siren with a grin just before he reaches the car. “ i’ll come back for you, ” she teases, knowing perfectly well that she has time to let him in but he doesn’t seem to care now that he has a chance to properly enjoy his dinner. it’s not the first time she’s done this either, left him stranded with an excuse of proving herself capable without a man by her side   —   the truth is, it’s the best situation for her to do what she’s become known for now, turning criminals into confidants. at least, that’s how she spins it once they check in and report back to the station eventually. 

          an unknown agreement. don’t ask too many questions and nothing will happen. besides, mijoo has known from the start that he was just as corrupt as she suspected. there’s just something off about her partner and she turns a blind eye, bats her pretty lashes whenever he mentions it, and everything is reset, the same way she expects things to be once she deals with this. 

          it’s too nice a car to be just some idiot. she knows that. more than a joy ride being taken by some valet or kid   —   no, there’s swerve to the way the person drives but being able to avoid hitting someone else in the manner she just witnessed. that’s more than nothing. when she manages to flag them down, she knocks on the window of the drivers side. “ license and registration? ” though a part of her wonders if she should bother. the records in myeongcho are . . . far from clean and fully updated. 

↪ not tolerated: your muse punishes my muse.

tw: kidnapping, implied torture

Jongsuk descended the steps into the basement, meticulously rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “Wake her up,” he ordered, not sparing the gathered men or their captive a glance as he finished with his sleeves.

He looked strikingly out of place given their surroundings. The basement was really more of an old wine cellar, located beneath a restaurant that looked like a strong wind could blow it right over. The electricity was unsteady thanks to ancient wiring that had probably been gnawed on by rats for years and the lights flickered, unstable. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

And then there was Jongsuk, with his perfectly styled hair and his pressed Armani suit.

In the center of the room, a circle of men surrounded a lone woman. She was blindfolded, her hands bound behind the chair with rope to keep her immobile. Given the way her head was hanging as her body strained limply against her restraints, she was unconscious.

Jongsuk reached level ground at the same time that one of the men dumped a bucket of water over their captive’s head. He loosened his tie and let the material hang loose around his neck as he reached the group. Clucking his tongue in annoyance, he bent down so he was eye level with the woman, waiting for her to stir.

“Are you ready to join us, Phantom?”