destructive—

she was obsessed with the color red, this dangerous girl with scarlet lips. her reckless kisses written in blood, upon a page no one could turn." —m.f. park choa. cottonmouth. extortionist/escort

[vmxchoa-blog]

i’m also keeping choa around if anyone is still interested to continue/start threads or basically do anything under the sun heh i dont think i’ll be able to let go of her and the people she became attached to just yet. besides i haven’t had my share of u beauties who are still around lmao so idk like this post or send an ask if you wanna holla or smth ouo

[sgnlily]

once he seen there was no reply back to him, mino made the assumption that what he said was true. a slight smirk creeps upon his face as he shakes his head, just the thought of the female wanting him to hurry up made him feel a bit of warmth inside. that ended just as it came. “ah, what is this lady doing to me?” he mumbled to himself as he ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. it wasn’t something he was used too, but no matter how hard he tried to not feel giddy, or not show emotions towards the elder as he did to others – those things just seemed impossible.

he made his way to his car, and pulled out of the parking space he was in, heading to the other’s house. he was glad that it wasn’t too far from where he lived, but at the same time now that he thought about the female offering him food, mino hoped that it was bought and not cooked.

[vmxchoa-blog]

it’s embarassing to admit, yes. how the thought of him coming over for the food she carefully prepared sent weird flutters in the pit of her stomach (just when she thought the feeling of life slowly drawing out of someone under her hands is the only thing that does so); but if he would dare ask her, she will say it’s probably because she haven’t done this for a while, and like the previous ones, this too would pass. she hopes it does. even if mino’s life is at risk on a day-to-day basis, just as every snake is, she couldn’t afford to have more people going after him. he suffered enough.

choa tries to stay still on the couch, flickering from one channel to another when the doorbell rings. she hops up, retrieves her composure and opens the door, apron still on and cheeky smile to welcome the expected visitor. “looks like you escaped hell again, lucky ass.”

[vmxtaemin-deactivated20151122]

— midnight interlude.

[vmxchoa-blog]

vmxtaemin

And there she was, fading in and out under intermittent neon light, pale strands of hair flickering between muted greens and blues. She came in to view and then disappeared, disrupting the masses in her way as she walked. He couldn’t tell where she was going, not from where he stood. But he wanted her, thus, he trailed after her.

this is her; dancing to a beat too foreign to the ears, and yet hips were swaying, matching the rhythm as if the whole world was hers alone, hers to own. this is her; tight, provocative clothes that exposed the right amount of skin and accentuated the curves that formed quite nicely as she matured through the years. this is what she thinks of herself now; shuts everything out for a night with drinks on one hand and a company on the other, only to deliver jung joonyoung’s messages with the use of her frail hands the day after. and she was his’ to use and dispose when needed be.

she knows someone is watching, waiting for a perfect timing to approach; someone always does, and it didn’t take a while before she spots one lurking in the shadows, hot stare directed towards her. she sways her hips to the music, tries to keep her eyes towards his direction despite barely making the features of his face, an inviting smile curling the sides of her mouth. maybe later she can find out if he’s her type or what. she looks away after a few, pretends she’s not interested if he prefers to stay in a corner to watch drunk people dance instead. a stranger starts pressing against her exposed back then, keeps her entertained as he matched her movements for a short while before she moves in further to the middle of the dance floor, her attention remaining on another.

but the man in the shadows moves out, reveals himself, and she finds this more and more amusing. choa had always been fond of games. she manipulates her way towards the lesser crowd, spots him roaming around as if searching, and she reappears from behind, intentionally grazing her back with his’. “looking for someone?” she offers him a small smile, still dancing, and refusing to lock eyes. “hard to look with this crowd, right?”

[9477]

[sgnlily]

[ sms ; crazy chick ] i don’t know what you’re talking, noona… [ sms ; crazy chick ] im no perv.. anyways im coming right now [ sms ; crazy chick ] so eager to see me, im flattered.

mino let out a short snort as he read over the message, and quickly typed in his replies before pressing send as he begin to change his clothing to head to the other’s house. the majority of the time he would so happily decline people’s offers of ‘hanging out’ with him which was why most people just gave up on him, but with choa it was different. it was an unknown reason why he couldn’t tell the older no. also, there was food involved.

[vmxchoa-blog]

a smile was evident on her tinted lips as she read the messages, almost as if seeing the smug expression on the male's face, matching his words in a perfect combination--mino and his much bigger ego. she didn't bother to correct the assumption, didn't bother to write another reply either. it was true, anyway. she was really eager to see him (something she would never admit though), watch him try to maintain the blank expression when she cracks a lame joke or just listen to him complain about her cooking.

she waits in the kitchen then, arranges the table for a one man serving, and checks on sangchu sleeping in the living room. nope, she's not eager to see him.

[vmxchoa-blog]

vmxmino

[ sms ; crazy chick ] of course im still alive… how insulting.. [ sms ; crazy chick ] i actually wasn’t thinking anything of it but now that you mentioned it… [ sms ; crazy chick ] ill be right over B)

[sms; dumb song] is this how u speak to ur noona? .___.

[sms; dumb song] what a perve. anyway, come quick. the food will be cold.

[vmxwonwoo-blog]

beholden / pca, jww

[vmxchoa-blog]

vmxwonwoo

(…)

“haneul isn’t here.” the name is unfamiliar, but wonwoo can understand the importance she puts on it if they are the first person she asks for. “how do you feel?”

thin fingers gripped the sheets beneath as she tried to make sense of the hazy figure now standing beside her. though one thing she knew, from the unfamiliar deep voice that emanated, was the fact that it was not her brother. this alarms her. instinctively makes her think of possible ways to escape the possible hell hole she brought herself into, despite half of her body refusing to move. she looks around, scans the place with continuous blinking to remove the blur in her eyes, sheets crinkling inside the tight hold of her fists.

there's a strange feeling inside her rib cage, but certainly not new, and not immune. fear perhaps, or pity to herself for having her life indebted to another man yet again. it was that obvious. she tries to remember what happened, how this lead to one and another, and all that came back to her was falling on a dumpster in a dark alley she have never been before.

choa tries to get up with the help of her elbows. the first attempt failed, the second one too. “who are you?” was the first question she addressed to the male, not an answer to his question he probably knew beforehand. hazel irises flicker left and right, settles on his face, and away again, when she succeeded the third attempt. “if you’re one of them, i won’t say anything. best kill me now.”

[hominglasers]

[vmxchoa-blog]

10.31.15

writing:

@wonwoovmx | beholden

waiting: (pls pls take your time my loves no worries really)

@vmxhongbin | picture perfect

@hyunseungvmx | hard day’s night

@vmxvictory | private business

@vmxilhoon | rainy days

@vmxjongsuk | it’s not enough to die

@vmxjonghyun |erase me

@vmxtaemin | starter

plotting:

@vmxdongwoo

@jaerimvmx

@vmxjinyoung

[247silvia-deactivated20180601]

Private Meeting ; Choa+Seunghyun

[vmxchoa-blog]

vmxvictory

(…)

“Good afternoon, dear. You’re looking ravishing today.”

they ask her if she’s interested in him, if she’s brave enough to make the first move. she laughs, and the confused look on their faces only made it louder.

supposedly the purpose of unvoiced agreements, intimate meetings behind closed doors. she’s not the type to go around and talk about personal matters anyway; how she got to know the certain male (in more ways than she imagined) right on the first day he stepped foot at the serpentine. seunghyun is like a dose of adrenaline. always fun. just fun. she forgets the world around her, allowing the momentary pleasure to take over her already unstable state of mind. she’s aware how little care they have for each other. after all, the spur of the moment easily passes once they’ve caught up. he’s got a life ahead of him– the heir of a large business. he’s ought to build his own family, have daughters and sons, something choa might never have a shot at with the rate she’s going.

a smirk ghosts pink plump lips as she enters his office, hears the familiar ring in his voice as she locks the door behind her. “don’t i always?” the hazel of her eyes gleams at his sight, suit and tie and draped on a swivel chair. she takes her time to close the distance between them and ends in front of his table where she shamelessly leans forwards, gives him a view, chin resting on both hands. “looks like you’ve got your hands full, handsome. no time to play?”

[wtcjoohyun-blog]

— picture perfect.

[vmxchoa-blog]

vmxhongbin

(...)

a crooked smile curves on his lips, hands bringing up his camera as one dimple peeks out in his grin. “i hope you don’t mind but i couldn’t help but to take a photograph of you.”

choa finds herself sitting on a wooden bench in the middle of the neighborhood park after a random walk. she wanted to clear her mind, get herself to focus again. now that jung joonyoung is back, they might have to work twice than they did before. he won’t just settle for minimal destruction. staying in a prison cell must have awakened a different craving that a normal person will not be able to stomach. she hopes it would be a different story; but then she thinks about the things she had done for him and will still be willing to do if he asks her to. 

he tells her she’s the same monster. she refuses to accept the thought. (”but you like it too, right? you like feeling their lives draw out from their bodies with your own bare hands?”)

a faint memory flickers every now and then. it didn’t seem like the right time to be alone, after all. undistracted from the million voices in her mind. she sees the image of her adoptive mother, splayed across the kitchen floor, her own blood pooling underneath her lifeless figure. she sees the monster who turned her into one, a knife stuck through his neck, struggling to breathe (but she remembers his filthy hands on her skin and it makes her want to do it again, over and over). she sees her little brother at the doorway. precious thing with big brown eyes. how he called for her when she decided that the life they're living is not worth anything.

a small leaf flicks the tip of her nose, brings her back to the reality of the place she's nestled in. the breeze felt nice and the sound of children laughing was comforting. then a voice speaking. pretty smile. handsome face. she even notes the small dip right beside his mouth. 

her smile was bright like the sun against her platinum blonde hair, obviously amused. "don't tell anyone, but i've been scouted several times before." there's a glimmer in the hazel of her eyes as she jokes around, shoots him a playful wink, somehow thankful for the unexpected company. "kidding aside, thank you, if that's the case. i'm glad to be of help or whatever it is i'm doing that i'm not aware of."

[tiffkyu]

[vmxchoa-blog]

hard day’s night;

@hyunseungvmx

nights like these were often excused as over time, documents continuously piling up and not staying will further add another or two. haneul had grown up so much and excuses need to keep up, else her efforts hiding all those terrible things from him will all be in vain. he still buys it. thinks his too soft-hearted (in his own words) noona is working hard in a four-walled office instead of running errands for the most dangerous man in seoul. 

she attracts attention the very moment they entered the small bar. multiple heads turning at the sight of a petite woman clad in black, making her platinum blonde hair stand out more than it already was. she’s in the company of two other men, who obviously looked like they tend to break a lot of things using their bare hands, definitely not in a way that will make you feel safe. but that was the point of sending threats- to instill fear in your clients to their very core; to let them know the stand between you and them. jung joonyoung is that kind of poison. slow, lingering, painful. choa is the needle to deliver him.

feline eyes easily catch the sight of their intended. she walks towards his direction, taking her time to catch up with the distance, relishes the jazz playing in the background. she slips on the seat right beside him and signals the bartender for a drink. “i wish they told me you were this good-looking earlier.” she starts, pink plump lips curving upwards. “boss wants the payment now, sweetheart. you wouldn’t want to make him wait, do you?”

[vmxchoa-blog]

flicking ashes;

[vmxchoa-blog]

vmxhan

How to find serpent tongues: have one yourself.

dilated hazel settles on the dirt between painted nails, filth gracing the pale porcelain skin untouched by a bruise or a gashing wound. she’s slowly losing her stand. with the way he looks at her, how he seems to play along with her crochet of makeshift stories, she knew he wasn’t buying any of it.

this is not charity work, not the fulfillment to rescue someone in need; reap the personal satisfaction of bringing them to safety. she was as good as dead as she was an hour ago.

they practically raised her in the gang. older members of the cottonmouth taking a poor little girl in who didn’t have the means to survive on her own. they were fascinated how skilled she was at lying. what used to be “why are you up all night?” perfected into “who killed them?” within years of agonizing experience. she works with perfect timing; gazes with horror-stricken eyes, tongue full of beautifully-crafted lies. women should know the use of their own resources. the situation dictates better ones than what’s sitting between their legs.

the necklace that was supposed to be taken away, the necklace that almost got her killed, brought her to this hot seat, now feels heavy in the pocket of her torn pants. “it's… it’s a silver locket.” she pauses shortly to stifle a sob. blonde hair messily draping the sides of her lowered head, eyes refusing to meet the other’s. she’s telling him a story no one ever heard of. “my mom gave it to me when i was very little. it’s the only thing left from her.”

(the police are hardly sentimental, he said.)

she clutches the coat over her shoulders, cowers in her small figure for the warmth it provides. she finally looks at mr. police charming with a bitter smile. “you’ll find it for me, right?”

[carpediemvivehodie-deactivated2]

[mi--sung]

[vmxwonwoo-blog]

beholden / pca, jww

[vmxchoa-blog]

wonwoovmx

His eyes drift back to girl, and though the blanket draped over her naked form is enough to cover the table in its entirety, he can still pinpoint the scar he’s carved onto her flesh, the bond that joins her will to his, her servitude to his whim, and the power that radiates from - he closes his eyes, breathes in the scent of alcohol and faded iron, knows he’s unforgivable for taking a life that wasn’t his to own.

she waits.

(‘wait like a good little girl and you might get what you want’, she still hears him say.)

she does what she had been told. to wait. jung joonyoung is too generous to not let her go and remain inside her messed-up head even on her way to hell. so she waits for it, waits for the last drop of life to slip away from her frail human body. it all goes down one way or another. even that stranger who picked her up from the dark alley knew.  

thin fingers start to fidget then, clawing at some sort of soft material. it was ticklish. they didn’t tell you satan’s bed felt this nice to lay on. but she still feels heavy, head and limbs, numb and cold. she considers to reach out for a moment, but her own body goes against her will. wasn't she supposed to feel the burning sensation by now? in the books, they often describe the souls in hell set in flames.

she struggles to open her eyes. ready to take in the sight of whatever it became. it's a success this time. (too bright. it’s all too bright). it took her a while to adjust the already-accustomed eyes in the dark beneath the blinding light. she searches for more, dilated pupils settling at the hazy vision of a figure who stood not too far. a weak hand reaches out. "ha...haneul."