Stigma Love's Algorithm [ A BTS x Reader Poly ]
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    Stigma Love's Algorithm [ A BTS x Reader Poly ]

    Fanfiction

    || BTS x Reader Poly Soulmates || In a world where soulmates are confirmed with algorithms, can human connection still thrive? It's 2025, the LoveMap App promises to revolutionize how we find love. Based on intricate data, emotional intelligence, a...

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    Chapter 44: Every Mark, Etched in Skin ⚠️

    Start from the beginning 
                                            
    
                                                  
    His uncle wheezes.
    "Tae-"
    Taehyung snarls.
    "SHUT UP."
    His grip tightens.
    "You don't get to speak my name."
    His arm pulls back.
    He's going to hit him again.
    And again.
    And again.
    Until he understands.
    Until he feels it.
    Until he fucking suffers.
    And then-A voice.
    Weak.
    Pained.
    "Tae-"
    Taehyung freezes.
    His uncle isn't looking at him anymore.
    His eyes are unfocused, his lips split, blood pooling at the corner of his mouth.
    "You're just like me."
    The words punch through him.
    His body locks up.
    His heart stops.
    "No."
    His uncle laughs.
    It's guttural, wet, but it's mocking.
    "Look at you," he slurs. "Lost it, didn't you?"
    Taehyung can't breathe.
    "Shut up."
    "You can beat me all you want, kid-"
    His uncle coughs, blood spattering onto the pavement.
    "You'll never change the past."
    And just like that-
    The fire snuffs out.
    Taehyung drops him.
    His uncle collapses onto the ground, groaning, curling onto his side.
    And Taehyung-
    Taehyung stares at his own hands.
    His chest heaves.
    His head pounds.
    His hands are shaking.
    There's blood under his nails.
    There's blood on his clothes.
    And suddenly-
    He doesn't feel powerful.
    He doesn't feel vindicated.
    He feels sick.
    ________________________
    There are moments in life that don't just hurt. They wound.
    They carve into you like a knife, splitting you open, leaving something behind that never really heals.
    And this-this-is one of them.
    Because Taehyung isn't speaking.
    He's bleeding.
    Every word he says cuts into him, raw and jagged, spilling something onto the floor that Yoongi and I can't clean up.
    We can't undo this.
    We can't change it.
    We can only watch as he relives it-
    As it swallows him whole.
    His hands are shaking.
    His grip on his bear is tight, but it's not enough-nothing is enough to ground him now.
    Yoongi and I don't dare to move.
    The air is too fragile.
    Like if we speak-if we breathe-the weight of this moment will come crashing down.
    His voice breaks through the silence.
    Low. Flat. Empty.
    "I heard laughing."
    My stomach twists.
    Yoongi stiffens.
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