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Min Yoongi/23/Fear Inducement
"Suffocate."
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Jay...
( ... )
“I..” Jimin began, and faltered but quickly found his voice again, “My father was the leader of a gang. And some bad people wanted him dead, or at least hurt. In 2005, my mother and I was taken in broad daylight straight out of a grocery store. They raped and killed her right in front of me, and I was next but – my father came and he – he got me out of there,” Jimin explained a tears managing to slip from his eye and down his cheek before he could stop it. He swiped it away instantly. “They all had that tattoo – the butterfly they all had it.. somewhere. That exact one. And there’s no way I got it confused. My dad, I thought he killed them all after what happened.”
Jimin agreed wholeheartedly, “you’re right, there’s absolutely nothing you could say. Other than some explanation. Were you there? Do you remember it? Are is that something you shitty people just dust under the rug because lives don’t matter to you. A mother taken from her son, her daughter, her husband, it just doesn’t matter does it?”
The moment he finds himself being pulled into an alley he’s sure it will be over soon. This guy isn’t going to just let him go. That thought horrifies him- the thought that he’s finally going to be killed for the things he’s done- murdered in cold blood for his past mistakes. He’s sure he deserves it, but it doesn’t curve the fear. He can feel the creeping in his chest- the tugging and he’s shaking just a little. He’s never been great at dealing with fear when he feels it. It’s like a switch for him- either on or off. He basically is the only thing that can scare himself these days- his own thoughts and hallucinations. The only reason the idea of death is really getting to him is because he can twist it in his own mind right now. He’s turning this situation into another of his nightmares, and that makes things difficult. He coughs yet again once they’re in the alley. His chest feels tight and it’s a bit hard to breathe, but he’s sure at this moment it’s not the smog.
He glances up- making eye contact. This guy’s mad- glaring. The stranger is giving an explanation and Yoongi can feel himself only starting to fall apart more and more. Was he involved in something that horrible? No, he couldn’t have been. That year is far too long ago and he starts to realize it slowly. He’s not great at math, but after he recalculates a few times in his head he realizes he’s too young for that. He notices the other man’s tears and bites his lips. How is he going to explain this? How is he going to make this sound any bit convincing and not like he’s running away? He holds onto his arms now- eyes moving to the ground once more. He feels like he could cry too, but he doesn’t. He holds his breathe for a moment- trying to gather his thoughts. He needs to say something.
But the stranger is talking again and Yoongi just hangs his head. He grips his arms tighter at every word- every insult. He can’t hold the tears back now. He shouldn’t be crying. It’s not fair for him to be the one who’s crying when this stranger is the one who suffered. He shouldn’t be acting like this- but he’s pathetic and he hates it. He covers his eyes- the knot in his throat feels much tighter and it’s making it that much harder for him to speak. None the less, he does his best to raise his voice- to give it some sort of power.
“No... No I-I couldn’t. I wasn’t there. I would never.” He chokes a little on the pain that comes from using any sort of real volume. “I’m too young. I wasn’t even with the gang back then... They picked me up much later and I just- I dealt for them and then they had me do some threats and- and... I killed a few guys, yeah. A few here and there because I felt like I had to. Those guys were my-my family so I wanted to feel safe with them but I... I would never! I wouldn’t do that to someone! All I did was threaten them and take their money! That was my big job!”
He coughs hard- throat fighting. He can feel the smog in his lungs rumbling- a disgusting sensation. It’s like there’s liquid filling his lungs and it burns. He grits his teeth through the pain- eyes screwing closed with it. He lets out some form of a hiss before trying to shake his head- shake it off. He needs to say something else- something important. This stranger needs to know.
“They’re dead now.” His voice is a bit more of a whisper- barely audible. “The gang... You said your dad tried to wipe them out...? I guess... Since I joined they were still around but...” He tries to focus on a particular spot on the ground.
“The main building was burned to the ground. It was a complete loss. Everyone inside was too preoccupied with something else to leave... So they all stayed inside. I was the only one out of that building and I watched it burn all the way to the ground.”
Butterfly Effect
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Naeun...
( ... )
“hello?” she calls, looking around the room for any hint of her childhood friend. “is anyone in right now?”
in her hands, she clutches the wrapped lunch a bit tighter than she should. she is apprehensive, but she can’t seem to tell why.
Despite the fact that Yoongi has been leaving his room more often than usual, that doesn’t exactly mean that he’s out very often. He still spends far more time laying around in his room or on the couch than he probably should. If nothing else, he’s found that training has been somewhat worth his time. While physical exertion sometimes makes it hard for him to breathe, he enjoys the adrenaline rush from it. He also just likes feeling a little bit stronger. If he can keep up some sort of physical strength, maybe he’ll be able to defend himself the next time he needs to.
But today isn’t one of the days he’s training. No, he’s just laying on the couch, eyes set on nothing in particular as he lets his mind wander. There are no specific thoughts, really. Just small flashes of things he’s been through here and there- people he’s known and friends he’s made. There have been enough strange experiences since joining this foundation that he can’t help but wonder sometimes if the foundation’s intentions are always pure. Then again, he’s not one to think to hard on those sorts of things. For him, Daybreak is a place to live- somewhere to feel like he’s not alone even though he sometimes tries to scare people away.
He does sometimes find that he quickly feels lonely. He’s got a few people he likes- friends of sorts. He has enough positive experiences that he should feel better about himself... Hell, he even has a roommate now. He never thought that kind of thing would be possible. But Lu Han doesn’t seem to hate him. No, things seem pretty alright in the long run.
He lets out a breath calmly- more of a sigh than anything. It’s habitual, and his minds not on it. A green trail wafts up from his mouth- spiraling in the air for just a moment. It takes him far longer than it should to notice that the green is spilling from his lungs and he sits up suddenly the moment he does. Hands slap over his mouth and nose and he huddles up just a little. He has to keep that in check. The smog has become so much easier to breathe out than carbon dioxide- it’s like it’s what meant to be there. He holds his breath- trying to remember how to shut it off for a few seconds. By the time he’s breathing out again there are a few little things darting in and out of his vision. They aren’t extreme hallucinations, but they frustrate him. He never did like the little ones- because they’re the hardest to determine the reality of. Luckily, he can tell there’s no one whispering, and he’s pretty sure that weird knocking sound isn’t real either.
He shakes his head for just a moment. It’s always been strange to him that the smog seems to throw a tantrum when he cuts it off like this. At least he’s not reeling in pain and trying to force flames back or something like that though. No, today he’s just dealing with whispers, knocking, and the slight appearance of a shadow or two that are certainly out of place. Sometimes insects seem to crawl in his peripherals... It’s enough to annoy, but not enough to make him want to scream or cry. It is enough to remind him that he has pain killers he can take, though. They ease things.
He reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out the bottle. The instructions say one every day or some such, but that’s never really worked for him. He twists the top off with little difficult and pours three into his hand. He stares at them for just a moment. He really should quit.
But he still takes them none the less- swallows them without hesitation and leans back on the couch once again. This should make those hallucinations fade much faster. Maybe he can get some sleep too...
That’s when he hears a voice. His head snaps to the side and his eyes widen. There’s a girl here- one that he’s not really sure whether or not he’s seen before. She seems like she’s been standing there for a bit and he sort of blinks at her. Well, he’s pretty sure he just forgot to lock the door, so that likely means she’s on of Lu Han’s friends... Though, isn’t it sort of rude to just walk in? Oh well. Yoongi isn’t one to care about manners.
“Uh...” It’s a whisper as always, barely audible if anyone doesn’t care to listen. “I’m here? Can I, uh... help you?” He glances to the bottle in his hand for a moment- closing it swiftly and tucking it back into his pocket. Strangers don’t need to ask too many questions, so he’ll do his best to ignore what could be asked.
“Are you looking for Lu Hyung? He’s not around...”
knows best || + myg
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Jingoo...
( ... )
“The military treated me fairly well,” he supposes out loud, “I got discharged two years ago and started working here, so I guess things worked out pretty well.” Then there’s the issue of his sister. His smile gets a little more strained at the thought of her. “She… She got adopted early on, and she visited every so often at the orphanage, but I’ve… lost contact with her while I was in the military.”
Yoongi’s expression drops ever so slightly. He’s trying to keep up a small smile, just for the show of it, but he’s not exactly happy to hear Jingoo’s answer. The military isn’t exactly a gang, but it is dangerous and... Well, Yoongi just isn’t sure how he feels about it. On top of that, there’s the talk of his sister. The fact that she would have to leave her brother is somehow... Upsetting. Yoongi hasn’t ever had much to call a family of his own, but he’s at least capable of understanding why that sort of thing would be terrible to experience. He lets out a small sigh- making a mental note not to let the smog escape from his lungs.
“I... I’m sorry.” He’s not great with words- never has been. “You don’t know where she is now? Like... Not at all?” He’s blinking slightly- suddenly confused. Most people don’t just disappear. It’s not a normal thing to just lose contact with everyone around you. When someone does that, they’re probably running away... At least, that’s the only reason Yoongi could see himself falling off the face of the planet. To be fair, that’s sort of what he did.
“Surely you’ve gotta’ have some contact with her... Like... You know her parents names or... stuff?” He’s trying to think, but it’s not exactly working out. At the moment, all he knows is that he’s sure losing someone like that must hurt. “...Still... I’m sorry you lost contact with her... and that I wasn’t in contact myself, y’know?” He shakes his head. His throat hurts already from all this talking.
Remember When | Yoongi & Jin Goo
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Jimin...
( ... )
“Go outside, why? I don’t want to go anywhere with you. I don’t know you – I only know who you affiliate with,” Jimin explained with a scoff, seemingly unaffected by the stares and the shocked expressions of other people until now. He looked at the faces that seemed to suddenly surround him, and they looked a mix of many emotions – faces at which Jimin didn’t want to have to explain himself because in the moment – he looked like the bad guy, and that definitely wasn’t the case. He wasn’t part of a gang that raped and killed an innocent woman – an innocent mother – a wife. But people wouldn’t understand that and he already could see the owner of the bar coming to approach him, before he could do that however – “I’ll calm down when you come out here and tell me who you are and why you’re still sucking up oxygen” Jimin demanded, snatching his bag off the bar, and storming out the bar and expecting the other to follow.
“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t fucking report you, or better yet, put a bullet in you myself.”
There’s a moment where Yoongi is worried that this stranger might try to start an even bigger scene. There are already enough people staring that Yoongi can feel himself shaking just a little. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal- it’s not like he’s got a fear of being stared at... Does he? He’s not really sure. Sometimes it’s hard for him to remember what he’s afraid of. At the moment, he’s sure he doesn’t like the way that glares at burning into him, though. He hates the feeling of being judged- and so heavily at that. There are people on both sides, but either way he’s sure he’ll never return here. He doesn’t even know what these people are thinking, but he’s sure none of it is good.
He looks over the stranger again- hands still up in hopes of making himself seem a bit less guilty. It’s not like he’s reaching for his knife. He could, but... There’s no point. He’s not here to fight or hurt anyone. He was here to try to get over his many issues with a drink, but obviously that’s not how things are going. He bites his lip- breathing sort of heavy despite it hurting to do so. He’s just staring the stranger down- trying to make eye contact. It’s the only way he manages to catch his glance moving to the tattoo on his own hand. He lets his vision slip down to it- lips parting at first to try to respond but stopping the moment he realizes what it is.
The tattoo he got from his gang as a punishment.
His body tenses up. It couldn’t be that this is one of the people who’s families he ruined when he worked for those people. This guy can’t be one of the family members of the gang either, right? Did he lose someone in that fire? Does... Does he know what Yoongi’s done? The fear breather swallows hard- eyes diverting to the ground instantly. He’s started shaking far more- blank eyes wide as he tries to think of what to do. He doesn’t know this person. He really doesn’t... But that doesn’t make it easier.
For a moment, he’s scared that the stranger is going to refuse to leave the bar, but it seems that all of the eyes on the two of them changes his mind. He takes a deep breath- trying to calm down some. He looks around the bar after the stranger is gone before giving a small bow and rushing out after him. He freezes once he’s outside- staring the other down yet again. This isn’t a situation he’d like to be in... Ever. It’s been a while since he’s even thought about the gang... And yet here he is. He probably deserves this. He probably did something horrible. He always does.
“... I have no reason.” His voice is back to a weak whisper. “If it involves my old gang, I likely deserve whatever fate you choose for me. I won’t blame you if you kill me.” He shakes his head a little before glancing up. It’s hard to tell where he’s looking with his lack of pupils, but he tries his hardest to make eye contact despite that. This stranger... What horrible things did Yoongi do to him? Was it the fire? Maybe on of his jobs? He can’t be sure... All he knows is that he probably did something.
“... What was it...? The fire? Did-- Did you have family in the gang? How did you... find out?” He shakes his head. “Or was it someone they ordered me to kill... One of those nice guys who couldn’t pay? I thought they didn’t have families... I-I...” It hurts to talk. He covers his mouth to cough- eyes watering a little with the pain. “I can’t... Nothing I say will help. Nothing.”
Butterfly Effect
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Soojung...
( ... )
tears prick her eyes, stinging her nostrils. taking a deep breath she restrains any emotional display that is on the brink of revealing itself and dons a stony expression. having any one see her cry, well that is simply absurd. hell no is she going to invite a third party to her pity-fest.
she continues her journey out of the training towards her hall, only to almost bump into something — rather someone. she wants to utter an apology but pins and needles seize her body and halts all movement as she witnesses the personification of agony. the being is doubled over so she fails to get a grasp of his identity. his hands are around his throat and she desperately scrambles for answers as to how to help him. quite frankly, he’s scaring her. soojung rarely finds herself in such situations where she is the immediate heroine. she usually assumes the other role. at a lost, she doesn’t quite know how to go about helping him, yet all the same she still inquires rather meekly, ”h-hey… is everything alright? can i help you?”
Today really wasn’t so bad at the beginning. It was pretty normal. He left his dorm for a bit to, er... shop, and just sort of enjoy the weather. It’s cold, sure, but he doesn’t really mind that. He just likes getting a breath of fresh air or two on occasion. It’s better than being locked up in his room all day, right? Sure, he’s got scars a plenty from his incident in the haunted house, but no one will... stare. Not in Daybreak. Well, they might stare but he at least can pretend it’s not that big of a deal when he’s here. He just tries to ignore the way that his own appearance is making him feel.
But of course, his normalcy isn’t so good at lasting. He takes a few steps into the courtyard and his eyes start to go unfocused. He feels himself stumble just a little, but recognizes it a little too slow. This attack his coming on far faster than he’s used to. The smog must be getting stronger.
He doubles over choking on his own breath as he tries desperately searches for something to balance himself against. His vision is blacking slightly, but he knows it won’t go away for good. It never does. The smog makes sure he’s awake for the torture and agony when it’s forcing its way out. He has to be awake or it’ll stop being able to exist. He knows the smog well enough- it’s basically part of him after all.
He chokes hard- gasping for air and letting his hands come up to rake nail across his throat. There’s a stinging sensation that he absolutely can’t stand. It’s like someone’s has lit a fire deep in his lungs and now they’ve closed of his airways to try to remove any possible sources of relief. He gasps weakly- barely managing to take in any oxygen. He can feel the smog burning its way up as it forces it’s way out, but he stops it. He bites back a very small breath and keeps his teeth clenched tight. A pained groan barely escapes from behind closed lips.
His fears only get worse as his vision returns and he hears a voice. He snaps his head up and glares suddenly- teeth still clenched into some sort of grimace. He needs to tell her to run or he’ll have another run in like he did with that Doctor, Yongsun. He doesn’t want that. Not again. No more strange women getting a taste of the smog and deciding he deserves to be treated like human garbage.
Even if sometimes he can’t help but think he deserves it too.
He tries to stumble a step back, but his balance is too poor and he instead just topples to the ground. He shakes his head furiously- trying to get some sort of warning across to the woman. She’s got to understand. She’s got to get out of here!
But that’s never the way it works for him. He’s never just that lucky. He catches himself on the ground with one hand and begins to cough violently. The bright green haze wafts up from his lips and into the air. If he could- he would try to stop it. If he weren’t too busy with his own suffering, he might be able to sweep it away before it spirals around the girl in front of him.
But that’s just too easy.
☾ mocking bird
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Baekhyun...
( ... )
He does find Yoongi though, curiously not being as weird as usual which in itself should be something to worry over. Baekhyun is alright with interacting with people, after all he does talk with everything that moves, but he is not too sure about his ability to spot what he can’t see. Blame his inability to read people and that feeling of inadequacy that he can’t shake off - he means good though, as always.
“Hey.” he greets awkwardly “You okay there?”
His breath is uneven and his head is spinning as he tries to relocate himself in the hallway. He’s pretty sure that’s where he was, at least a few moment ago. The walls have started to warp and things are taking a turn for the morbid and grotesque. He can hear the crackling of flames- see the way the figures in front of him are affected by the lick of the fire. It’s not pretty. None of it has ever really been pretty though. When he gets like this he just has to choke on air and pray that it’ll just go away. There’s chanting in his ears- distorted and pained but somehow coherent.
Murderer. Killer. You never wanted to have a real family. You’ll never be able to keep anyone around. You’ll lose them. You’ll lose everything.
He’s no idiot when it comes to his own hallucinations. He’s seen what can happen when the smog attack him and he’s seen this particular thing enough times that you would think he’d be used to it. He’s not, though. It still drives him up the wall- or just against it. Pushed against it- breath heaving and eyes trying to focus on anything but what he’s seeing. He’s not sure he’ll ever get over the fire- the way it sounds. He can almost feel it burning his skin, but the hallucination isn’t that strong, at least not yet. He hopes it will stay down- where he can only feel the heat of it. He doesn’t want to feel like he’s burning. He never does.
You don’t like the fire? You made it. You’re the one who started it. Burn it. Burn everything.
Things take a strange turn, though. His vision breaks for a moment- flashes as he snaps his head up. There’s still fire roaring, maybe even louder now- but that’s not a part of his hallucination. He’s pretty sure the guy’s name is Baekhyun, and he’s one of the people who’s moved onto the floor Yoongi’s tried so hard to keep others away from. Not that Yoongi would ever be mad at him for it. He can’t. It’s not Baekhyun’s fault. Not anyone’s. He pulls at his own hair just a little.
You didn’t want anyone here because you knew this would happen. He’ll burn too. Do you want that?
Is it really Baekhyun? That’s always the question. Is he there and the hallucination is changing him? Or is he a fake? If he’s fake, why? Why would he be there of all people? It doesn’t seem to fit and that’s what leads Yoongi to readjust his glance and speak in a nervous voice.
“Not really.” It’s a calmer sounding than he feels. “I-I... I’m having... Mutantion issues. My... Th-The building. It... It ain’t on fire, right? You don’t see a-any corpses? Burnin’ ones? S-Sayin’ st-- AH!” He jumps back at the feeling of a flame biting into his arm. He stumbles a bit closer to Baekhyun with tears in his eyes. That hurt. That hurt so bad.
He’ll die too. You’ll kill him. Burn him up. Burn him up!
He bites his lip and shakes his head. The voices are getting louder along with the figures in the flames getting closer. He lets tears start to slide down his cheeks. He doesn’t want to look pathetic- doesn’t want to feel it either, but he can’t really hold it in. His body starts to shake as he covers his head with his arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry j-just... Can you just... Talk to me. Talk to me for a bit, please. Anything. Just until it goes away.”
➟ deep breath
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Jin Goo...
( ... )
“How have you been? It’s been a long time since I’ve last seen you,” he says. Or anyone else from the orphanage, he adds silently in the head. He hadn’t seen anyone from the orphanage since leaving the place when he was 18.
The rest of the class continues on with the class, practicing quietly, but occasionally shooting the two curious looks. Jin Goo pays them very little mind, though he isn’t sure if it would make Yoongi uncomfortable.
It’s nice to see someone smile at him. It never really matters who it is or why they’re smiling, he just sort of feels better when the tension is broken and someone is smiling at all. Yoongi’s own lips quirk up just a little- hardly enough to notice but just enough to be considered some form of smile. He shifts his weight to his other foot and crosses his arms. Suddenly, he doesn’t have the courage to look up from the ground.
“Ahh. I’ve been... Okay, I guess?” The whispered words feel flawed. He knows what he’s saying is beyond wrong, but can he really bring himself to tell the truth? He’s not exactly sure. “I got adopted after a bit... Pretty okay family. Uh... They passed away in some accident when I was, uh... Seventeen, sixteen? Something like that. I... I, uh, moved then. Got a little apartment. Ended up figuring out I was a mutant... Came here.” The details are left out blatantly. He’s not an excellent liar, so he tries to only speak in partial truths. There’s no reason to ruin the good conversation this could be.
He eyes the rest of the class ever so slightly. He can catch the glances, and deep inside he doesn’t appreciate them. He’s never liked being stared at, but he can ignore it for now. He looks back to Jin Goo with a weak sigh before speaking up yet again.
“Enough about me though... What about you? Did things turn out okay? I guess... You’ve probably got somethin’ goin’ on if your here, right...? What about... What about your sister...?”
Remember When | Yoongi & Jin Goo
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Yeji...
( ... )
Yeji shifts onto her other foot and shakes her head, putting her hands on her hips for the moment as she stares at the guy. Seriously, she gets wanting to get out of your mind or feel goor or whatever, but isn’t this just plain stupid? Whatever. “I’ll help your baked ass get home if you’ll fucking give me your hand, here,” she snarks, lips still quirked in a half-grin. “You hear me? Hand. Take it.” Yeji reaches down again, emphatic.
In the end, she decides to just reach down the extra few feet and yank him to his feet without his help – not much minding how he stumbles uncoordinatedly in response. He’ll be fine.
“You wanna go straight home or do you wanna maybe sit down somewhere until you’re like, not so damn high? Because I’m pretty sure you can’t walk in a straight line like that, much less actually get back to the foundation even with my help.”
He’s still staring at this chick like she’s got a third eye. She’s at least got some sort of a sense of humor about this situation, which is probably a good thing. Yoongi himself has almost none when it comes to- well... Anything, really. He’s just not the kind of guy who finds himself laughing at much. None the less, he’s glad this girl’s got a sense of humor because it makes him feel a little less like an idiot for what’s going on. Sure, she’s probably laughing at him just a little, but if he laughed much he’d probably laugh at himself too. This scenario’s pretty stupid, after all. He’s sort of an idiot too.
And now he’s circled back to feeling down on himself.
He looks at her hand- mind taking a bit too long before he flinches away. It’s a natural reaction, albeit a delayed one. His mind instantly says that he shouldn’t be touching someone because of his mutation. It takes him about another couple seconds to recall that he’s high as a kite and that means the smog couldn’t begin to come out if it wanted to. By the time he’s done his thinking, she’s reached down to pull him out without really caring about whether or not he’s okay with it. He stumbles a bit- head sort of fuzzing up nice and good again for a few second before he manages to get his footing again. Over all, the process probably takes about fifteen seconds, but Yoongi processes it at a much slower rate and thinks it took about five minutes.
“Huh?” Is his immediate reaction to being asked a question, not because he didn’t hear it, but because his brain isn’t sure what to do with hearing things at the moment. A few seconds later he’s messing with his own hair and sort of nodding. He still feels a bit like- well... He still feels like what just happened, indeed, happened. It makes sense that his head feels as empty or full of the wrong stuff with him being high and dealing with head trauma. Light head trauma, but still head trauma.
“Sittin’ down sounds good.” His words are stretched out despite their whispered tone. “Soberin’ up... sounds nice.”
╳ high enough.
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Lu...
( ... )
The next moment, he is proven wrong and his breath hitches as the sound of an object being toppled over echoes from the other room. He immediately pushes down on the handle of his door and swings it open, exiting the room swiftly and rushing into the chamber where his roommate was situated. The sound of his own heartbeat rings in his ears, one which only grows faster at the sight of shards of a broken vase were scattered all around the wooden boards of the floor. Water mixed with dark hues of red, trailing up to the figure of the other which was laying facedown onto the couch – Yoongi was hurt.
“Y-Yoongi-yah,” is spoken tentatively, with his voice barely making it above a whisper. Hands wring themselves, thoughts rush through his mind at a pace far faster than what he can handle to make sense of them and, just like in his years of youth, Lu Han finds himself rooted into place by fear.
Yoongi recognizes good and well when he’s made a mistake. His body knows just how to fight him and prove to him that he’s more of a screw up than he might remember. He’s been inside for a while now. He hasn’t felt like leaving the room due to nightmares and lack of sleep. His body is still covered with scars and, honestly, he find them appalling. They disturb him. He can’t stand looking in the mirror and dealing with the memories of how they came to be, let alone the concept of letting too many people see him this way. Anyone who cares even the smallest bit for him is sure to panic- to think down on themselves when they think that something awful has happened to him. He doesn’t want that. He never has. He’s stayed inside to avoid the pity- the heavy glances. He simply doesn’t want to leave, but that has lead to a very unfortunate situation.
He’s an addict, though he doesn’t want to remember it. The weed is one thing. It’s not addicting, it’s just to take the edge off of the smog. The alcohol does it’s job alright too, though he does find that sometimes he craves a drink far stronger than he probably should. But no... He’s managed to get himself pulled into some messed up state where his mind is hooked on the worst of his bad habits. He’s not sure if the drug is intended to be addictive. He’s pretty sure ecstasy differs in it’s make up, but for some reason his mind is treating him like he’ll die if he doesn’t take another pill. Any kind of pill. Something to give him a high that’ll make his hands stop shaking and his vision stop blurring in and out. He’s gotten different things in the past- pain killers. They work. He’s not sure he doesn’t prefer them. He just wants... something.
He’s never gone through withdrawal before. He had no clue he was even capable. In the back of his mind he can’t help but wonder exactly what it is that makes him so addicted. Is his power somehow linked? Why is he so prone to this? His mind slurs and he gasps a little. He can feel himself shaking. Why is it so cold...? He isn’t exactly sure. It’s been more and more difficult to remember things over the last few days. He probably should have gone to find his fix days ago, but here he is. He’s wrapped in his blanket as tight as he can get it- heart feeling like it might burst with just how fast it’s beating. He really does feel like he might freeze to death, but for whatever reason, that cold feeling is coupled with his body feeling sticky with sweat.
He buries his head further into his blanket. The lights hurt his head even more. It’s been like this since this morning- his head. The headache is ceaseless and he honestly is willing to do anything to make it stop. His stomach is turning in circles over and over again. He can’t remember when he last ate. He’s pretty sure it had to have been a long time ago. If it weren’t, he would have thrown up by now. There are bags under his eyes even worse than usual. He’s struggling to remember what sleep feels like. With him being off guard like this, the hallucinations have been coming even stronger. It’s like... they won’t leave even for a moment. Even now there are little things speckling his vision- a dog’s growling echoing from a dark corner- a masked man who’s been staring and staring. He just wants it to go away.
In a way, he might have been trying to quit. He’s not... sure. He can’t remember if he told himself to stop taking the drugs. There was a fear somewhere deep in him that the more he took the more the smog spread in his body. His addiction might be feeding it- making it stronger. He has no way of knowing. There’s no real way to understand the way his lungs function when they’re full of this monster of a smog, but he sometimes thinks it’s his fault. The drugs... The drugs. They made it, didn’t they? They started all of his issues, and yet they still control him.
Even now they’re telling him to take more or he’ll collapse.
He tugs the blanket even tighter as he stands up. His steps are beyond uneven- he’s hardly walking- more stumbling. His breath is uneven and starting to come out more in gasps than anything. His throat has started burning- aching. Is he sick? He feels like he might have caught something. His temperature flashes and suddenly he feels like he’s going to boil alive. He doesn’t drop the blanket though. He keeps it wrapped around him- body shaking still with every shuffling step. He makes it out of his room somehow- eyes blanking at the lights in the living room. His head reels and he feels like he could scream. He doesn’t though. No, his body doesn’t allow him to really make noise anymore. It wants him to suffer in silence. He has absolutely no option but to halt in his movement and let himself reel for a moment. All he can think of is that he needs more. It’s not a want anymore. He’ll die if he doesn’t take something- anything. His body will break and he’ll turn into nothing but that smog. He’ll die.
He stumbles forward completely blind. He’s forgotten the roommate in this moment. Desperation makes his mind one track. If he weren’t in his current state, he’d be far more embarrassed by it- shirtless with a large fluffy comforter wrapped tightly around him- hair a mess and generally looking like he stands a chance of losing it at any moment. He has to stop halfway through his walk in order to almost faint against the wall. He hits it far harder than he wants- sound echoing and furthering the pain in his head. He coughs low. That’s not too abnormal. How did he let it get this bad? How did this happen? Why? Why? Why...?
He pushes himself up again and manages to walk a bit steadier for a few steps. He glances around the living room blindly- not exactly sure what he’s even doing anymore. His mind is lapsing and he’s having more difficult than he would like. He steps a bit closer to the couch, as that seems right at the moment. His head reels once more and he finds himself completely collapsing. A weak attempt is made to catch himself on a nearby side table, but it only results in him knocking the vase off and the echoing crash ringing in his head. He hisses at the noise and the sudden pain in his arms. It takes him far longer than it should to realize that there are now shards of glass stuck in his arms. His breath is shaky as he looks the new wounds over. Great. Great.
Everything hurts... Is... Is his blood toxic green? No. No he’s imagining it. He’s hallucinating. Someone’s laughing. He covers his head with injured arms and lets out panicked gasps. He wants it to stop. The laughter makes it worse.
But it won’t and he knows it. He only yanks the shards of glass from his arms and pushes himself back up. He’s still bleeding, but now his mind can only say he’s had so much worse. He takes the few steps required to reach the couch and suddenly forgets how to lay down normally. Instead he just falls face first into the cushions. His vision is gone for the moment, and he questions if it’ll ever come back. Maybe the smog will take his vision next. He wouldn’t be shocked.
But then again, if he couldn’t see, how could it torture him with hallucinations?
There’s a voice echoing in his head and it’s the only reason he forces himself to stay conscious. The memory that someone else lives here is sudden and it makes him want to scream. He hears Lu Han next to him- forces himself up on shaking and bleeding arms. He looks at his roommate with terror in his eyes. No. No no no, he can’t be here. He shouldn’t. The blood. The blood is bright green. It’s green and the smog- it’s toxic- it’s toxic and that means Lu-- He shakes his head suddenly- pain rattling through it with the motion. He can’t distinguish reality and hallucination right now. It’s not working. His voice breaks as he stares at the other man.
“Lu Hyung...” It’s a whisper. “Lu... Lu! Don’t touch me! Don’t- Don’t touch it! Don’t touch anything you’ll- you’ll- you’ll die! You’ll- I- I don’t...” His voice is breaking because it’s far too loud for him to handle. His head won’t stop pounding- the yelling isn’t helping. His eyes go to the blood that he’s been tricked into seeing as the wrong color. His breathing gets even more unstable and suddenly he’s gasping for air.
“Fuck... No. Please- please- oh god I’m going to die... I’m going to die! I can’t breathe! I need something- anything. Please. Please don’t let me die. I’m too scared. I’ve been-- been through- no no no please.” The panic has set in, and, at the moment, he can’t say what he needs. There’s far to much information for him to process and, in a way, he’s confused.
But he knows what he needs. His addiction is making sure of it.
withdrawal 💊
#advxluhan#.ic#.thread: withdrawal#withdrawal tw#drugs tw#panic attack tw#alcohol tw#o k a y#//this turned out long#//and de ta iled#// o k.
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Jay...
( ... )
Jimin smiled softly in acknowledgement at the wave the other male gave him, and was just about to say something in response to the man’s near-greeting, but the tattoo on his hand caught Jimin’s eye the moment he saw it. Jimin’s smile was wiped from his face slowly. He only had to think briefly where he’s seen that tattoo before because it’s something he never forgot. His worse experience in the entirety of his life consisted of seeing that very tattoo and Jimin couldn’t help but release a gasp, audible and loud because emotions were rushing to him much too fast for him to be able to control his senses. He sprung to his feet, backing away from the man, almost unable to believe one of those sons of bitches managed to escape his father’s wrath. He was sure his father wiped that rat of a gang clean, but he seemed to have missed one, and Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes.
“you should be dead,” he claimed, stalking toward the other male with tears starting to well up in his eyes, “you should be fucking dead!” Jimin snapped, and nothing was stopping him from pushing the other male as hard as he could, causing a large commotion but all of the panic around him was just background noise because he never thought he’d see that tattoo ever again in his life, but here he was with a man that could have been in the room when the worse thing that ever happened to him happened, and the only thing he saw was red behind the blur of tears.
There’s an awkward pause after Yoongi’s greeting. That’s normal enough, as far as he’s concerned. Some strangers just don’t want to talk or even say hi. He can’t let himself dwell on things like that. If he did, he’d be feeling even worse than he already does most of the time. So he just keeps staring for a moment- face blank and eyes somewhat unfocused. He could really use another drink... It would take the edge off whatever the hell is running through his mind. Not that he’s sure there’s really anything there.
It’s when the stranger’s expression changes that he snaps back into focus. He’s not an expert at reading faces. In fact, he’s downright bad at it. When the smile leaves the stranger’s face he doesn’t read shock or anything. He doesn’t read sadness. No, he reads panic. It’s partially right, but he doesn’t get the right idea at all. No, he just inhales quickly- holds his breath. His eyes dart around slightly- looking for traces of green wisps floating in the air. He can’t see any, but it’s the only logical conclusion he can make. Somehow, his mutation has managed to affect this stranger. Somehow, this poor guy is now probably seeing something terrible and it’s all Yoongi’s fault. He keeps holding his breath as he tries to focus on what the other person could possibly be afraid of.
The guy’s on his feet in a matter of seconds and Yoongi stands up after him- still trying to focus to understand. His intuition doesn’t work fast enough. He needs to think harder, but it’s hard when he’s holding his breath. Next thing he knows, he’s being told that he should be dead. His mind rattles around for a moment. He lets out his breath and shakes his head just a little- but the stranger just repeats the words far louder. Yoongi’s brows furrow. This is a really nasty situation. The people in this bar are definitely going to take things the wrong way. There are already people glaring at Yoongi and he’s just... blank.
He’s pushed back moments later- crashing back into a few of the stools. It wasn’t a hard push, but he’s not exactly healthy and to say he’s stable would be extremely inaccurate. He catches himself on the bar well enough- pushes himself back up and can’t help but toss the stranger a glare. It��s a natural reaction that he quickly shakes off. His expression turns to worried quickly enough. He stands up straight as he approached the stranger. He’s dealt with this before. He can do it again.
“Listen... I-I don’t know what you’re seeing, but... Please. Let’s just go outside. Can you hear me? Do you know what I’m actually saying?” His voice shakes when he tries to talk at a normal volume. It hurts and he can’t help but cough after the sentence is finished. He puts his hands up as he tries to slowly approach the stranger. If he can just make eye contact he’ll know for sure just how badly this guy is hallucinating.
“Let’s just... calm down, ok?”
Butterfly Effect
#advjay#.ic#.thread: butterfly effect#//sc reams#//sorry this took a while#//sorry everything is @w@
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Jingoo...
( ... )
He can still see the ten year old from a long time ago. It’s surprising to him, that the other was in a gang, but it’s not too big a deal. Good people could do bad things. He didn’t have a right to judge anyways.
Jin Goo wonders though, did Yoongi remember him?
He wants to run away. He doesn’t like it when he’s struggling to remember something. It’s odd- it feels like a nightmare. It feels like the memory will snap back and do something terrible, just like the hallucinations and the illusions. He only manages to hold his ground because he feels that it’s necessary. He can’t just run off. His eyes widen just a little at the final response. He tilts his head to the side- brows furrowing and fingers curling to make fists.
“Orphanage?” The whisper is far more confused than he means for it to be. He doesn’t have many positive memories of it. He doesn’t recall the good times as easily as the fact that he felt out of place. The delinquent kid who couldn’t read or even start to really make friends. He ruffles his own hair just a little- shuffling through memories. This guy is too old to be one of his delinquent friends. He doesn’t seem like the type who would’ve ever done that sort of thing, really.
“Don’t remember a lot from there... Trauma ate it.” Quiet words not meant nearly as awful sounding as they might be. “I was a mess... Sorry.” He’s still digging for a face that fits this guy. Why does he have to be so bad at this? Why is it that memories are so often devoured by the nightmares? He can recall the faces of monsters- the masks and fangs... But he can’t even really remember the way that his adopted father looked.
But for once, it dawns on him. He looks up again with a shocked expression. That’s right. An older guy who was in the orphanage- someone who taught him a few things here and there. He can’t bring himself to smile- not knowing how much he’s changed, but there’s a small glimmer of hope. It’s nice to have a positive memory.
“Jin Goo.” He nods. “I... I kind of remember you.”
Remember When | Yoongi & Jin Goo
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Min Yoongi A.K.A Vile
Fear Breather
“I’m not sure if I’m tired of being scared or scared of being tired. Not anymore.”
#vile artwork#.lens#//man i dont know why i did this#//i wanted to draw yoongi in the gear i imagine he'd wear if the smog got too strong#// and then i got caught up in it#//now im posting it here#// i dunno m a n#// But look at t he thing i drew i guess
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Dosuk...
( ... )
“… is there roof access on this floor?” Original intent abandoned, mumbled for the sake of steeling himself for that step back that he wants to take, no longer destined for that outdoor rest but the safer confines of his own room. He’s not sure if there’s something behind him or, worse, if the man had been eyeing the door, but paranoia strikes a cold shiver up his spine when he finally retreats and feels the knob knock against his wrist. It’s almost a regret that all he feels is the door because what, then, had Yoongi meant by looking there? He looks again at the man, severely discomforted but willing to accept any excuse that wouldn’t place his new friend as a threat, even as he inches open the door and pulls himself back further.
His awareness is fading- replaced by intent concentration on things that don’t exist. The flickering of eyes in Dosuk’s shadow- the slight scratching sound coming from somewhere in the distance. It’s impossible to place exactly what it is, probably because it’s not real. It’s never been real... But to him it’s as real as the man he’s been talking with this whole time. It’s real enough to make him want to down the rest of his drink- but instead his hands just shake. His eyes flicker to white for a split second- then back to their normal hue. He’s hand grips at the counter- book placed neatly to the side. It’s not bad enough yet. He won’t scream yet. He doesn’t need to panic. Things are ok.
He’s talking to someone good- a friend of sorts. Not a real one, but someone none the less. If it weren’t for the beast that’s taken up residence in Dosuk’s shadow Yoongi would look only at the other man, but he knows he can’t. He can’t look at that- that... thing. If he does his expression will show how panicked he is. Dosuk might disappear. The hallucination might eat him or something- take him away in a blaze of flames or puff of smoke. He doesn’t want that. He wants to conversation to last just a few moment longer. He wants his fears to stay away for just a second more so he doesn’t have to deal with them. Just one more smile- one more laugh. He just wants to pretend it’s okay for a minute more. So he tries to force a smile- coughing instead. It’s deep and low in his chest. It stings, but he ignores it.
He forces his glance up at Dosuk. He’s just glad the other is still there at all. Dosuk’s speaking and that has to mean something. Yoongi’s expression drops at the question, though. His eyes go from slight pain to complete depression. He’s going to be left alone with these things. They’ll torture him while Dosuk’s gone and there’s nothing he can do. He can’t keep Dosuk here. No... No he shouldn’t even try. It’s not his place. He can’t force anything. He’s no good at it. So he smiles weakly- glance falling to the ground.
Is that fire crackling?
“Yea-h...” His voice has an edge to it. “I go up there t’ smoke sometimes.” He shakes his head- a pathetic laugh escaping. He covers one eyes with the heel of his hand- just trying to make things fade. Does he look disturbed, broken? He’s not sure. Dosuk looks scared. It’s fitting for the situation. Maybe this really is just another hallucination made to screw him over. Maybe this whole ordeal was played expertly to simulate losing something the tiny slivers of hope he had. He laughs again- even weaker. The smog gets smarter everyday.
He really wishes it wouldn’t.
“Hey... I-I’m really fuckin’ sorry.” He’s still smiling, but the sounds of fire are getting louder and it’s making it hard. His head sort of hurts. “I’m sure you already know this, all things considered but... I’m seein’ things. Weird shit like-- like... monsters in your shadow and sometimes these... weird little flickers in the sides on my vision. Can’t really tell what’s real and what’s not.”
He’s not sure why he’s saying all of this. It’s not like he enjoys telling people about his problems, but if Dosuk really is just a part of his normal hallucination process than he might as well. No point hiding it. He’ll be taken away soon enough and Yoongi can roast alive in his own illusory hell.
“Don’t worry. I won’t do anythin’ ‘cause of it... Cry, maybe...” There’s another laugh. “Probably, actually. Not much else I can do. Sorry though. I liked talkin’ normal... I was hopin’ this wouldn’t hit so fast so we could keep it up. You’re really cool, y’know?” He slides down the refrigerator- sitting on the ground and finally letting his smile fall away. He’s not able to even find a dark humor in it anymore.
“I’m... gonna’ miss talkin’. I hope you don’t just... disappear forever. It feels like everything always does. People, things, whatever... They just... leave. Ugh... Listen t’ me... I sound gross.”
Ghost of Floor 6
#advnamjoon#.ic#.thread: ghost of floor 6#//sometimes i realize how long this thread gets#alcohol tw
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Yongsun...
( ... )
Her glare passes over him briefly before stilling, pieces attempting to click together as her stance shifts, restlessness directing her foot to start tapping against the floor. Breaths come more erratically than she’s ever been used to, and she’s all but breathing fire despite the sharp, icy tone of her voice, only barely thrown off by the lack of poise she’s so mindful of and a slip of dialect that she rarely ever uses.
“Yah, what is this?” Those voices chastise her for it, but lips curl into something similar to a snarl. If she can’t deafen them enough to figure it out on her own, she’ll do what she’s always done and have someone do it for her.
(Won’t that kind of thinking be your downfall? Shouldn’t you be more than capable of solving your own problems ─ whether supernatural or otherwise? Silly girl ─ you’re just a princess with a timer. Keep going the way you are, and you’ll be more worthless than a doormat.)
Her voice snaps out, again. “Did you not hear me? Whata’ya, deaf? I asked you a question!”
This chick is fucking terrifying. She’s not like all the others- she doesn’t lash out or trying to kill the nearest fear. She doesn’t scream or cry. She doesn’t even make a sound. No, she stands completely still- muscles barely shaking and eyes narrowed. She’s the kind of person who Yoongi tries to avoid- the kind that doesn’t react strongly when their afraid. She’s internal- hiding in some odd way. His nails are digging into the wall and he doesn’t even realize he’s pushed himself so close to it. His heels are pushed against the border between the wall and floor. If he could, he’d like to phase straight through it and out the other side. He’s regretting not running now... She reacts like his adoptive father...
She’s the kind that makes sure it’ll never happen again.
She’s looking at him and he just flinches. He hardly notices himself starting to slide down the wall. His eyes are wide, horrified. She’s just looking at him but for the moment he wonders if he’s in one of his own terrors. No one is supposed to be able to scare him this easily... But the memories are easily resurfacing and he gasps when she finally speaks up. He covers his ears- shaking and struggling to breathe yet again. It’s different this time. She’s asking what’s going on and he’s not sure if he can explain. He’s not sure if she would understand even if he did.
She’s clearly still under the effects. She’s too far out of it and if the smog really wants it can change his words to something else. He’s not sure if it’s safe to talk. She could be seeing him as something completely different- something he’d rather not be. She could see him as her worst fear and be asking him why he’s doing something he’s not. He doesn’t want to risk it- so he keeps his teeth clenched and squeezes his eyes shut again. He’s still shaking- still trying to wait it out.
But she snaps again and it all breaks. He jumps- toppled back. He hits his head against the wall and lets out a weak hiss- hand reaching up to grab the spot. He cracks an eye opened at her- teeth bared now. He isn’t about to move from off of the ground. He’s hoping he’s somehow less intimidating from there.
“You’re hallucinating!” The words echo far rougher than he wants them too. It hurts horribly to yell. He grimaces at the feeling. “It’s my mutation! It’s not real!”
♛ unpleasant reminders.
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