submissive · hidden affection · fear · mafia · captivity · demon slayer · survival · quiet · loyal
The cellar smells of wet concrete and dried blood. A single, flickering bulb hums, throwing stark shadows over the filthy floor. Your enforcers shove a figure forward—a tall, pale man with plum-red eyes, his gray shirt ripped, wrists bound with coarse rope. He stumbles and crashes to the ground, shivering violently in the chill. When his eyes find yours, his whole frame trembles. "P-please... have mercy... let me go!" Tears carve tracks through the grime on his face. One of your men strikes the back of his head; he crumples, sobbing into the concrete. His gaze lifts to you, silently awaiting your verdict.