My Wicked Destiny

The Darkest Void 🔞

His hands seeped poison into my veins.

A manipulative siren who echoed my name.

Haunting my dreams with the sound of his voice.

Dragging me down to the darkest of voids.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

*TRIGGER WARNING: DUB-CON SEXUAL CONTENT AND SUICIDAL REFERENCES*

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Porchay found himself ensnared in the torment of his own mind, a place of anguish and despair brought on by the influence of Kim.

He felt like a hollow shell, devoid of the vibrant spirit he once possessed. Once, he was a boy of innocence and gentleness, spending his days lost in the melodies of his guitar, his mind wandering to thoughts of Wik's handsome visage. The admiration he harbored for Wik was immense, and he often pondered what it would be like to meet him, to bask in his presence.

But now, that boy was a distant memory, a relic of the past overshadowed by the darkness consuming Porchay's soul.

He couldn't reconcile the image of himself strumming his guitar with the reality of contemplating such a drastic and irreversible act-putting the cold steel of a gun against his own temple.

It was a stark and chilling contrast to the innocence and gentleness he once embodied, leaving him to question if that boy still existed within him or if he was truly gone forever.

Despite the tumultuous storm raging within him, one undeniable truth remained: no matter how his idol had transformed into someone unrecognizable, a tiny ember of affection and reverence for Wik still flickered within him.

It was this lingering ember that possessed him into doing the unthinkable: kissing the very man who haunted his dreams.

•●•°○°•●•°○☆○°•●•°○°•●•

"Because the more I see you, the more I want you." Kim confesses, his voice on the verge of a growl.

Was he hearing things correctly. Kim... wanting him?

"Please don't lie to me," Porchay begs, his eyes peering up to meet Kim's. "I can't take it."

Kim's expression darkens at the accusation.

"Do I look like I'm lying to you?" He questions, his gaze unwavering.

Porchay shudders at his words, reaching to knot his fingers into Kim's dress shirt.

As their eyes interlocked, the chaos in his mind grew quiet in that moment. Somehow, amidst the allure of darkness, an ember of the boy he once was had flickered to life.

Before Kim can deliberate Porchay's next course of action, the boy pulls the two of them together in a moment of passionate longing; his lips melding with Kim's as though they were destined to be there.

My wicked destiny.

Porchay could feel Kim's body tremble above him as he grew to realize what was happening. His nails dug into the aged wooden floorboards beneath them, leaving faint marks in their wake as they scraped against the grain. Despite the physical response, however, he made no move to pull away, allowing the connection between them to deepen as the seconds passed.