Tumgik
#but instead lose themselves and become utterly the same
anxiousnerdwritings · 8 months
Note
Ok but imagine the caliber of babying Joanna!Lookalike would receive if she somehow survived her poisoning. They’d treat her as if she was infinitely more delicate than glass. She wouldn’t even walk anywhere anymore, Gregor would carry her everywhere
If Joanna!Lookalike!Reader were to somehow, by the gods, survive the Strangler than she would be seen as an absolute miracle. I can’t help but imagine Joanna!Lookalike just walking off the effects of the poison. Like, she’s collapsed on the ground coughing up four lungs worth, there’s blood, tears and saliva all mixed together and after a bit she just gets herself back up, dusts herself off and continues on like she didn’t just have a near death experience. Everyone would be both shocked, terrified and utterly relieved all at the same time.
Babying would be a complete understatement, House Lannister (along with some others) would become even more completely overprotective and obsessive than they already were. Their darling Joanna!Lookalike was nearly ripped away from them, they weren’t going to leave any room for that to ever happen again. Tywin would immediately cut down on the contact that his grandchild had with anyone else, mainly outside of him. Honestly, Tywin can’t even bring himself to trust Cersei with Joanna!Lookalike after this. He knows Cersei didn’t poison her, after all she had been utterly destroyed by the mere prospect of losing her beloved child, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. Her visits and interactions with Joanna!Lookalike would be even more heavily supervised then before.
Hell, Tywin would assign Gregor to be stationed directly by Joanna!Lookalike’s side from then on out. Instead of simply being in the same room as Joanna!Lookalike to protect her, Gregor would now literally by breathing down her neck 25/8. He use to only stand guard outside his princess’ bedchambers, now he would be sat next her bed as she slept just to further ensure her safety. Hell, he Reader wouldn’t even be allowed to bathe without Gregor right there to oversee it, especially when it was the female servants who were set to wash her themselves. Eventually, even that would be put a stop to but Gregor would still be right there (even if his back is tuned way) to ensure his princess was safe in her most vulnerable of moments. And it
Cersei would be so incredibly clingy, suffocatingly so. Understandably she was so close to losing her most precious child, of course she would be wanting to be damn near attached to the hip with her bby. She would take to sleeping next to Joanna!Lookalike, clutching her child close to her, almost bruisingly tight. And much to her absolute dismay and annoyance the Mountain would be right there each and every time Cersei tried to have some much needed time with her bby. Also, Cersei would still very much blame Tyrion for being the one who tried to kill her darling bby, but Joanna!Lookalike wouldn’t let her mother or grandfather accuse him of such a thing. Even after going through what she had, Joanna!Lookalike!Reader would vehemently defend her uncle to no end.
341 notes · View notes
guzhuangheaven · 1 month
Note
I'm rewatching Ruyi, and all I'm thinking is, "Why is Yanwan such a stupid person?"
She is surviving and thriving because of luck most of the time. How is it that her mother murders his child and Hongli thinks that maybe she is not evil because her mother didn't confess Yanwan's part but he spend over a decade hating on Yuyan because of an accessory and her ambitious son.
I feel the writer faltered and could have made her a more subtle and clever villain. Her only becoming a Consort because Hongli wanted to piss of Zhen Huan, I think sucked the most.
See, here’s where I think the writing is genius in terms of human psychology, because it shows just how utterly narcissistic both Qianlong and Yanwan and how much they see themselves in each other. Yanwan panders to Qianlong’s narcissism, so he literally willfully tells himself that a woman he favours can’t be that bad, to the point that he actually believes it. He wants to always forgive Yanwan whenever she pisses him off, because he can’t admit that he likes or gets turned on or whatever by someone so despicable, because what does that say about himself?
In the situation with Yongjing, he would rather believe astrology nonsense that Ruyi’s vibes killed Yongjing than consider there was foul play. He gets so hyped up with the idea of Yongjing being a good omen that when Yongjing dies he feels like he's losing face to ever have hoped so much. Face is a huge deal to a person like Qianlong, he can't deal with losing face like that so he turns it on Ruyi instead. Later he would rather deceive himself that yes somehow Yanwan’s mother can miraculously pull all off this huge feat of paying off midwives and people both inside and outside the palace to endanger Yongjing and frame Hailan in the process, than admit the obvious that she couldn’t possibly have done all of this without Yanwan’s will or involvement. And some people really are just so narcissistic that they would believe these excuses they tell themselves rather than think that they might be wrong.
Yanwan says it very succinctly in the end, he chose her, he raised her up, if she’s horrible, then what is he? That’s why he can’t ever admit to Yanwan’s worst actions until he can’t be in denial anymore, when it’s all shoved into his face in the end.
Yanwan basically spends her entire time as consort failing up because her benefactor (Qianlong) is too narcissistic to admit he was ever wrong and has the ultimate privilege to get away with that mindset. This happens in real life…
Anyway, I think while Qianlong is aware of Yanwan’s ambition from the beginning from the way she approaches him, and he nurtures that ambition to use her as a weapon against the empress dowager and Ruyi at times, he doesn’t see Yuyan (or do you actually mean Luyun and her hairpin?) in the same way. We see the Yuyan’s scheming private moments but I think for Qianlong, she’s just this plaything gift from a tributary state with a sharp tongue, and she is the equivalent of a sexy lamp to him. So he is blindsided when that toy dares have her own goals and uses her son to push her own gains.
If you mean Luyun, I always thought it was a perfect concoction of coincidences that sets up Qianlong’s suspicion of Luyun, from Langhua suddenly recommending Luyun as the next empress on her death bed even though she hasn’t shown any preference for Luyun before, after Qianlong just learnt that Langhua had supposedly done all these evil things, and then Luyun’s hairpin being found at the wrong place, then suddenly Luyun showing desire to compete to be empress that she didn’t have before and both Yongzhang and Yonghuang who were raised by Luyun acting up at Langhua’s funeral. With his tendency for paranoia of course he would be suspicious of her and he can continue to hold a grudge because Luyun isn’t a mirror to him the way Yanwan is.  
38 notes · View notes
mrsdarkandyandere7 · 9 months
Note
Many many unhealthy dark thoughts about Tangerine’s yandere tendencies. 100% do not condone this behaviour. Get out or get help if you find yourself in a similar situation!!
My thoughts:
Tangerine’s housewife kink is out of control. Put his Darling in an apron and the man can barely function; all he would think about is taking her to bed.
He would be the type of man who would get turned on by his Darling doing the most mundane chores around the house - ironing his shirts, baking, crocheting a soft toy for one of their children - activities he considers feminine and which feed into his housewife kink.
His expectations of his Darling are unhealthy and unrealistic.
Once she was living with him Tangerine got rid of any clothing he deemed “inappropriate”. Now his Darling’s wardrobe consists mainly of dresses and skirts and he expects his Darling to adhere to this dress code.
He gets angry when his Darling makes independent decisions as he wants them to be utterly dependant on him. His Darling doesn’t have access to their own money and instead is given an allowance. Tangerine would also insist that his Darling pay via card so he can see all transactions they have made.
Gradually Tangerine would isolate his Darling from anyone he thinks are bad influences. Initially he would constantly phone and text his Darling and would become very angry if they didn’t reply immediately and would subsequently punish them (in the bedroom) for their “neglect”. He then realised it was easier to put a tracker on their phone and cameras inside their house so he knows where they are at all times. In his mind this isn’t an invasion of privacy. Instead it’s a way to protect his Darling because she is innocent and naive and unable to make informed decisions.
He definitely chips away at their self confidence as he wants them to be completely reliant on him.
He is rarely gentle in bed with his Darling. He would never beat his Darling, but he is fascinated with the physical, mental and emotional limitations of his Darling.
100% uses their children as a way to punish his Darling by limiting contact or accusing her of being a bad mother. The latter is never true as he would never have children with someone he would deem “unworthy”, but he has found that such accusations are a good way to punish his Darling. Of course their children know nothing of these punishments.
Tangerine absolutely adores their children and thinks they can do no wrong. They are perfect because they are hers and they are his. Anyone who insults his children or his Darling have basically signed their own death warrant.
It is incredibly twisted and abusive, but Tangerine is madly in love with his Darling and wouldn’t be able to survive without her. He needs her more than she needs him, and he knows this hence his suffocating clingyness. He wants to be the centre of their world like she is the centre of his.
To outsiders their relationship looks normal. Just very very traditional. And even when their children are grown up their kids don’t see anything wrong with their parent’s marriage. And Tangerine deludes himself that his Darling is happy with their marriage. Whether she is or not is something she only knows…
Sorry for this long and dark rambling about yandere!Tangerine. But after reading your fic I have been unable to think of anything else. Again I do not condone Tangerine’s actions!!!
I absolutely loved this, such an interesting perspective on dark Tangerine.
Totally agree on the kids. Tangerine seems like he'd dote on his kids, especially if it is a little girl, and he'd be the best dad for them, teaching them how to stand up for themselves and also self-defense so they know how to protect themselves. Just imagine Tangerine losing his patience at the PTA meeting 😂
Feel like he'd really enjoy the whole idea of having the perfect marriage with reader but at the same time, he ruins it with his toxic controlling atittudes.
(also don't worry, we know that all of these dark fics and thoughts are NOT supported irl. This is just FICTION, so no one should take this seriously, please).
60 notes · View notes
the-fiction-witch · 2 months
Text
Lion P2
Media Game Of Thrones
Character Lancel Lannister
Couple Lancel X Reader
Rating Smut
Tumblr media
He carries her through the market. It doesn't matter if anyone sees her in this moment, It is time for her to see the castle.
she nuzzled into his neck as he carried her in his arms often blushing as other people in town came and looked curiously as to what their new lord was doing carrying this girl away with him, muttering and whispering among themselves as to whom this girl was, if she was in trouble or not, and of course what their new Lannister Lord was planning to do with her,
But he walks through the town with her in his arms without a care. In this moment of his life he is the happiest he has ever been. He sees everyone staring but he has the biggest smile. He could not care less about those other people as they gawked at her. 
She was more than a simple darry smallfolk girl, she was going to be his wife. His future lay before him in his arms and that made him feel so proud, so joyous so utterly thankful that he had taken the walk today if he hadn't who knows if he would have ever run across her at all. 
Lancel takes Y/n to the castle of Darry an old aged castle filled with servants and now outfitted with new banners and furnishings in Lannister colours as he had been making it his home, the place littered with items from his room in the red keep as well as items brought from casterly rock many of them not fitting the space well as they where not designed for this place but Lancel had made the most of them while waiting for better more fitting items to outfit his home in the castle. 
She notices the banners that are now draped from the castle. The banners and fineries that were used to outfit this castle shocked and surprised her with their size and luxury. She smiles as she sees the change in her surroundings, but she stares up at the lion banners waving from the castle in front of her. She would be a true lady in this lion's court. And she giggled giving his cheek a kiss
That kiss is enough to make his heart skip a beat. With that kiss, her loyalty is sealed. It felt as if he had won over the most beautiful girl in the entire realm. He smiles down at her kissing his cheek. He carries her to the door of his chamber and kicks it open like a man on his wedding night. He walks to the bed and places her down on it gently moving back to fully take her in.
she giggles and playfully kicks her feet like an excited child as her body in her thin cheap smallfolk clothes now laid on her back against the silk, satin, and sweet cotton red and gold sheets of the bed. The bed for a lord, a knight, a Lannister in his house colours of red and gold, and she a smallfolk girl in her blue skirt and corset she sticks out obviously, noticeably she is obvious in this luxury but Lancel notices just how perfect she looks surrounded by them as if she so fit into this life already beautiful enough to be a perfect lady. 
The way she sprawls out in the bed she Giggles her hair sprawled on the bed the scent of mud from her muddy bare feet, her chest rising and falling with each breath her sizable breasts almost threatening to jump her corset as she lays almost too beautiful to Lancel. Her pale blue gown and the lack of stockings made her look almost too innocent for the room around her. He has found himself a true beauty of a girl to make his wife. He wants nothing more than to rip her gown off of her and explore every inch of her body. He can feel himself sweating. His breath becomes shorter and less steady. His fingers begin to tremble as he looks at her lying in front of him. But he does not move his hands. He fights the urge now to make the first move and instead watches her and waits.
He bites his lip and leans over, looking at her chest as his eyes follow the rise and fall of her breasts. The sight of such beauty makes him lose his breath. He does not know if she is doing this on purpose, but he is enjoying the sight all the same.
He bends his head down towards her feet and looks up at her while doing so. Her feet are dirty from walking around Darry and doing her laundry barefoot, dirt and mud caked on her feet, but he does not mind the sight. The dirt is simply a reminder of her origins as a smallfolk which only excites him further.His fingers lightly begin to touch the mud on her feet. He smiles back at her and continues to run his fingers along the mud on her feet. His fingers begin to rub along her toes as he cleans off the mud and dirt from her skin revealing her tender skin to him, it almost felt symbolic to him that he had picked her up taken her away from her muddy smallfolk life and as he lays her in his knightly bed he cleans off muddy feet to reveal the sweet skin below, as if casting off her cheap dirt of her former life to reveal the beauty that he adored so much to see the wonderful lady she shall be for him.
After her feet are all clean he lets his hands roam up her legs to the hem of her dress.
"Does my sweet lion wish to see his kitty again?"
 fingertips now trail the edge of her dress over her thighs and inch higher each time he strokes her leg. His voice is hoarse as he whispers back. "Would you want my lion to see your pretty kitty?"
"mhm" she nodded,
That response drives the him insane with the need to see her body more clearly. He begins to pull her dress up, all the way to he waist He looks up from between her thighs to see her face. Her reaction alone is enough to drive him crazy. 
she smiled purposely placing her feet on the edge of the bed and moving her knees to make sure he got the best view he could, "my lion like my kitty?" She asked her hand purposely stroking her clit to draw his eyes closer her voice breathy and seductive
His breath becomes shallow at the sight of her stroking herself. He can feel his heart racing in his chest as she makes this moment even more seductive for him. He knows how hard he is just at the sight of her touching herself for him and all he desired was to force her hand away and take her himself,
"I love seeing your kitty, my lady. I can't seem to take my eyes off of it. or you" He bites his lip as he gazes at her body. 
"hmm why don't you touch it my lion?"
"Do you wish to be touched?" He asks her teasingly
"by you?" She cooed, "yes my lord"
His hand quickly moves her between her legs, rubbing on her clit and thrusting his fingers inside her mercilessly and he cannot believe what he is doing. Her body feels amazing. There is no words to describe his desires right now, but he is so overwhelmed by the moment he cannot stop himself now. The sensation of her skin against his hand is addictive. He leans in close to her so he can breathe in the smell of her scent. Like he truly was a lion and she his prey he was immediately addicted to the scent of her
she moaned and squirmed against the sheets moving her legs apart as much as she physically can, arching her back against the bed "my lord!"
It is almost as though her moans and the noises of her body are beckoning him to go stronger. The sound of her sighs is driving him to new heights of excitement. So he moves far more intensely on her. 
She is completely helpless as he touches her. Her body moves and writhes against him. The sounds are as if they were a song to his ears.
 She is his lady, and this is his right. Her body, and this time together is his pleasure alone. But he knew in this very moment this was not a mere passing attraction or lustful attention, he not only desired Y/n but he wanted her endlessly, the talk of making her a garden for his seed, making her his lady was fully confirmed to him now, he didn't fully believe his own lustful words when they left his lips now they where stone upon his mind,
He is her lion. She is his kitty, and he will make her his lioness. 
"Lancel!" She screamed she gripped the sheets tightly and reached her orgasm he body shaking and squirming she began to gasp and Groan from such excitement squirting down his hand and bed as her body shook, and her face turned bright red. He cannot believe he was just able to make her feel so much pleasure.
Lancel got some sick kick of out seeing her like this, seeing her flirtatious little body give in to its pleasure with such ferocity, and he knew he couldn't bear to stop, so he didn't even slow his hand overstimulating her immediately,
she gasps holding his hand and trying to make his hand stop or slow down, "please please my lord no more" she begged Innocently,
"I'll say when we're finished kitten," He growled, his hand soaked as he forced his whole hand to move to thrust his fingers as hard as he could, 
"Please Lancel!" She screamed which is enough to make him pull his hand away, 
"You are so adorable, my sweet seductive little kitty," 
"umm my lord is too nice to me, my lion pleases me so well"
"I am happy I could please you, but now... I think it's time for my kitty to take care of her lion."
"I believe by the river you said something of... Making me a garden for your seed?" She cooed
A sense of pride comes over him as he is truly able to make her happy. He nods his head to her "You are a garden. One that I should have found sooner. I wish to plant my seed and grow children with you. My Lannister seed. I wish this more than anything,"
"you may plant all that you desire my lord"
"I hope you can promise that it won't be too early for you if I plant my seeds in you. I want to plant them often. I want you to grow a garden for my seeds to fertilize over and over again."
"I promise"
He smiles again and kisses her on the forehead. His eyes sparkle with joy as he cannot believe he will have her as his wife to have and to keep. She would be his garden, and he was so excited to have her.
"Would you truly allow me to plant many seeds in you?"
"as many as you desire" She nodded unlacing her corset and tugging it and her skirt off leaving her In only her small cotton blouse to conceal her whole body holding it Innocently covering herself
He can feel his mouth watering when she is left in just her small cotton blouse to cover her. He takes a single step forward and begins to slide the blouse from her body. Her body is perfect and he wants to see and touch every inch of her.
He rips her blouse leaving her naked against his silk sheets,
No words need to be said. The beauty before him steals his breath away. He is so proud that this is his bride-to-be. He cannot get enough of her. He loses any control he had, feeling her body and loving every curve. He kisses her back, her shoulders, her neck and her back.
"if you wish me to be your lady, you better burry the seed deep in the garden my lion" she cooed She is like honey to him, sweet and delicious. Her words are so seductive that she might just take control of this entire moment.
He cannot wait a moment longer. The wait will be worth it. His lion may have a lioness soon.
8 notes · View notes
perfectoffering · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
╰     cis man , he/him/his     ☆     𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 …   we’re introduced to SANTOS SALAZAR SANTIAGO , the TWENTY EIGHT year old GUIDE at EMERALD CITY ART GALLERY from enchanted falls who bears a striking resemblance to DARIO YAZBEK. the whispers in the wind tells us of their EASYGOING and IDEALISTIC reputation, that’s why the townsfolk often are reminded of once upon a time are the sweetest words in any world; if you don’t like the person you are, enough time and magic will surely make you a new one; the precocious child with his head in the clouds grows into an adult with rose-colored glasses; i don’t go looking for trouble, it usually just finds me.  they are often haunted by dreams of a life lived as BASTIAN BALTHAZAR BUX / THE SHAGGY MAN ( THE NEVERENDING STORY / THE WIZARD OF OZ ) .
i. it starts on a day like any other, like any good story. he's ten. intelligent, unpopular, being raised by his father: his only surviving parent. a dentist and a man too out of touch with his own emotions to guide his son through grief, bastian is alone most days. so he escapes. he's read every book he could get his hands on, devouring one novel after another with the frenzied desire only accessible to neglected children. and suddenly there's a book unlike any other. when you stop reading those other books, you get to be a little boy again, the grizzled old shopkeeper tells him. those other books are safe. he steals the book when the old man's back is turned, and quickly loses himself in the neverending story. he follows the great hero atreyu on his quest to save fantasia from the nothing, but both protagonist and reader are left utterly baffled when, in the final chapter, the childlike empress herself tells atreyu that he cannot save fantasia. but bastian can. ii. he gives the empress a new name, and she is reborn with a new identity. a new fantasia to rule over. she entrusts bastian with auryn, an amulet which gives the wearer unlimited wishes. it's only after the boy becomes a man while adventuring through fantasia that he learns the cost of bearing auryn. every wish steals a memory from the human who possesses auryn, until they find themselves helplessly lost in fantasia, with no memory of who or where they are. with only his own name and the memory of his father remaining, bastian spends decades toiling to reclaim everything he's lost. the lost memories have to go somewhere, and so they do. a mine, where each memory becomes trapped in the stone as a painting on canvas. by the time he returns to his world as a little boy again, he's lived to be an old man once already. some years go by, and then he meets a girl named dorothy. when auryn reveals itself to her, bastian expects their journey to end in fantasia. instead, he finds himself in a land called oz. ozma takes him in, and in exchange, he donates auryn to the emerald city. in fantasia, he nearly killed his best friend in a fit of power-hungry rage. he would not make the same mistakes again in oz. there, he's known for his compassion and his love. iii. in enchanted falls, truthfully not much has changed for him. while he doesn't have the memories of all he's learned in fantasia, the curse couldn't take from him how tender and full of love his adventures made him. he's a painter in his spare time, and teaches others about art for work. very rarely is he found without at least one other "oz" character, but he's very friendly -- albeit a little awkward -- and loves to help the people around him in whatever ways he can.
4 notes · View notes
existentialmagazine · 5 months
Text
Review: Indie phenomenon The Trusted just released their new single ‘Burning the Night’, an atmospherically rich look into late-night insecurity
Southend-on-Sea's indie sensation The Trusted have been blazing up a storm on the indie-rock scene for a solid few years now, captivating audiences with bombastic and bold releases that continue to raise the question in how they’re not yet a worldwide name. As they shift their gears for a new single ‘Burning the Night’, The Trusted explore a a ground breaking departure from their previous work in the best way possible.
Always looking to push boundaries, ‘Burning the Night’ carves out an indie-rock sound with a distinct shift from anything else you may have heard, incorporating instrumental layerings in ways that immerse you fully within the carefully crafted sonic unfolding. A distorted feeling introduction opens up the mesmerising soundscape of ‘Burning the Night’, encompassing whirring alarm-like synth, scattered drum beats and emphatic electric guitar strums that in many ways seem to portray a sense of unease. As the electric guitar fades out for the verses interruption, ‘Burning the Night’ instead falls around piano keys, steady drum beats and continued intermittent synth, taking hold of every intricate sound possible to set the stage for a vastness within this atmospherically lingering experience. Their vocalist’s rich words perfectly settle around these instrumentals, a more emotive and at times raspy delivery for a sound that’s caught between bright notes and more melancholic depth. The chorus amplifies every prior instrument to a vibrant height though, gliding through quick-paced piano keys, vigorous guitar strums, pounding drums and vocals that float through the profound more airy range, a moment of heavenly spirit and euphoria that captures the same rush as living through a moment that leaves you feeling utterly alive. Featuring a unique 5/4 time signature, ‘Burning the Night’ falls into an odd and uneven rhythm that’s entirely intentional, enhancing their built-up narrative with a sound equally as uncertain.
As the night seems to bring out some of our most raw and unresolved emotions, ‘Burning the Night’ of course delves deep into the overthinking and irrational jealousy that arises in the dark, with many finding themselves looping on these thoughts without the presence of a distraction. Lead in by the lyric ‘lost in my guilty silhouette’, there’s a real sense of self-criticism that seeps throughout the words penned, perhaps even a hatred for their tendencies to become so worked up when others cannot comprehend their emotions. Slowly seeming to lose touch with reality, lines like ‘I feel like I’m lightyears from home’ embody a sense of distance while yearning for a familiar comfort, feeling almost alien in the world’s expectations with their aching feelings that may be deemed as irrational. Singing ‘I want to sleep in my dirty clothes’, The Trusted evoke a multifaceted depth between their words, leaving you to wonder if this decision is for a sense of safety and solace or more of a depressive episode that leaves them unable to change both mentally and literally. There’s also an interesting connotation to be made in the likes of dirty laundry, relating to personal or private affairs that people don’t wish to be publicly known, perhaps alluding to their desire to sleep while this assumed knowledge consumes them. Laying in bed and leading a one man army, lyrics like ‘fighting with vindictive feelings, starting riots on the ceiling’ convey their struggling thoughts and the way they turn their room into a battleground of sorts, unable to seek answers or reassurance either due to either the lateness or fears of conflict that may arise. However you wish to interpret the unravelling lines of ‘Burning the Night’ , it’s always going to be a narrative with so much thought-out depth, universally relatable to anyone who’s ever been left alone with their mind just a little bit too long.
Adding their own thoughts on the track, The Trusted share: “"Burning the Night" delves into the depths of late-night irrational jealousy, exploring those moments when darkness engulfs your thoughts and destructive emotions take hold, revealing the emotions that lurk in the shadows.”
Check out ‘Burning The Night’ for yourself here to cascade through the vibrant sound and more lingering meaning buried within!
Written by: Tatiana Whybrow
Photo Credits: Unknown
// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.
0 notes
peternelthorpe · 1 year
Text
Criticism In Music
New Post has been published on https://wr1tepress.com/criticism-in-music/
Criticism In Music
A criticism, or “critique” as it is also called, refers to any kind of oral or written opinion, whether negative or positive, communicated to a perfomer by an instructor, judge, mentor, other musician or even non-musician. It is an evaluation of a performance that is shared to the performer by the evaluator. It is sometimes also shared with the public, such as in media, where, in this case, it is more commonly known as a “review” . You, as a musician, can become adversely affected in your morale and possibly even discouraged if you do not know how to properly deal with it. Any art, including music, is so close to the persons very essence that any criticism about it can hit home like a ton of bricks, even devastating an individual, believe it or not.
But criticism for the musician is inevitable. It comes with the territory of learning and performing music, from instructors, other musicians, admirers, fans, from all sorts of sectors. It is an inherent aspect of conservatories and music competetitions.
Technically speaking, every person has the right to express his/her opinion on anything. Oftentimes, people feel the need to express their feelings regarding anything in the arts. You hear it a lot with film and music. These can come off as either complimentary or critical.
If one receives a praiseful comment, such as how wonderful or moving their performance was, they should accept it, thank the originator and be genuinely proud that they could capture anothers heart with their aesthetic power. It is encouraging to hear such words, and rightfully so.
However, ANY criticism or advice, either negative or even positive, from a non-professional (non-musician) should be entirely and utterly ignored.
Regardless of whatever personal impact you created upon the listener, they are not the correct source for technical advice.
Example: A pianist is performing a Bach piece and gets carried away with the dynamics (loudness and softness of various notes).
After the performance, his friend, a non-musician whos dabbled in studying some music theory, praises him and advises him on how great the intensity on the dynamics was during the performance.
The pianist makes the mistake of taking this as technical advice (instead of just differentiating between that and praise).
He then enters a music competition where he performs the piece by getting carried away again on the dynamics.
He promptly gets flunked and loses the competition because this piece he was performing, of the Baroque era, does not feature any sort of extremity in dynamics.
When a musician receives professional criticism, however, it can oftentimes be contradictory. For instance, one authority may say how excellent ones pedaling is while another comments on how muddy it sounds. This can leave a musician with uncertainty and unnecessary confusion. A thing to realize is that profesional technical critiquing can sometimes be opinion-oriented. But, it can also very well be corrective. There is a way to deal with this.
A musician always truly knows his or her own areas of weakness. These become more prominent and the individual becomes more tuned and aware of them as time and progress goes on. One should always be able to take such criticism without becoming introverted or feeling harmed. When one gets any such critiquing, the first thing to do is take it into consideration and evaluate it for themselves. If one feels that criticism was incorrect, then they have a right to evaluate that accordingly. A musician should always maintain his/her integrity. Though, at the same time, they should be open-minded and willing to learn more and become better and better. There is a fine line between not going the effect of poor criticism and being stubborn and never learning anything.
Lastly, there are always those individuals in society who seek to squash and put down creative minds, whether out of jealousy, insanity or their own failures. This occurs in any of the arts. As a musician, NEVER allow anyone to do this to you, for their “criticism” is merely an effort to overtly and openly put you down, or to slowly and insidiously suppress you by sounding “helpful” . Disregard it and continue being creative and making music!
0 notes
v1oletvenus · 2 years
Text
secrets revealed
imagine: after a long while of mixed signals from sirius, you finally want answers.
part 1 link here: unspoken feelings
content: sirius black x best friend non-specified-house fem! reader, angst, mentions of the war, panic attack & crying, confession of love, kissing & comfort lol
word count: ≈ 2k
a/n: hehehe spot the gossip girl reference y'all. also @sarahisslytherin this part 2 is for you XD
It was all too much.
You were right in the middle of exams, regret filling you as you questioned why you took so many subjects, back-to-back exams having an awful effect on your ability to think straight. You could feel the panic rise up in your throat as you struggled to cram all the information in your brain.
Not to mention the war.
So many attacks, so many lives lost. Every issue of the Daily Prophet had a new tragedy to tell. You had to stop reading them all together, but that didn't stop the gossip of your schoolmates.
"Did you hear they're planning an attack on Diagon Alley?"
"You-know-who is trying to recruit within Hogwarts, you know."
"We might not even be able to come back to school next year, if it all kicks off in the summer."
The thought of your world crumbling down before you was unbearable. Not being able to come back to Hogwarts would be unbearable. Not seeing Sirius would be unbearable.
And that was another thing - the two of you were so close now that you appeared to be a couple to anyone you crossed.
But you weren't, of course.
Because you both refused to admit your feelings that were now displayed for all to see - your everlasting blush whenever he was around and his uncharacteristic chivalry towards you and only you.
It seemed, and felt like he cared for you in a way someone who was just a friend wouldn't - but you couldn't be sure.
You weren't sure about anything anymore.
You slammed your dorm door behind you, chest heaving with the sobs wracking through you, your breathing irregular and fast. Why did this all have to be happening all at once?
You tugged your tie from around your neck, the red fabric suffocating you as you tried to open a window for fresh air to swallow.
You didn't know how long you were in there, alone, crying as you curled into yourself on your bed. There was so much uncertainty - so, so much to be scared of, and you were absolutely helpless.
Sirius saw that everything was getting to you - your face seemed drained of colour, that sparkle in your eyes left, and all that consumed your time were textbooks and caffeine.
Having not seen you in a few days, he ventured to the girls dorm stairs which he had seen you climb up a while ago. But when he reached your room and knocked, his heart shattered at the sound of soft whimpers on the other side.
He slowly pushed the door open. The sight of you, bleary eyed and curled up on your mattress was the final blow to his broken heart. You had been so strong for him, for so long - he had seldom seen you like this. Only a few silent tears after hard news, or a stressful test.
But never had he heard your words choked through sobs as he took you in his arms and asked you to explain what was wrong.
"Everything's wrong, Sirius." you cried into his chest. “It's the war. There's so many threats from all different directions. And I'm scared to lose everyone - my parents, my friends, you. I can't even think about it. And exams. I can hardly think clearly with all the other things going on around us. I can't breathe, I can't… "
He cooed and quietened you patiently, holding your smaller frame tight, knowing it might help to ground you. You clung to him, eyes closed as the dizzy feeling behind them dissipated under his embrace.
And it worked - slowly, your cries faltered and your tears dried, leaving you with quiet hiccups, still clinging to him as he whispered sweet nothings to you.
"It's okay, darling. I've got you. 'M not going anywhere."
You sniffled your last few tears away, before he leaned back and sighed. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes travelled your face. Even with bloodshot eyes and messy hair, you were the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.
"What?" you whispered.
Fuck, he thought.
He'd called you beautiful out loud.
Not that he hadn't before - it was usually in a flirtatious context, being played off as a joke. But this?
These was his innermost thoughts finally spilling.
He smiled bashfully, looking down. He didn't even regret telling you you looked beautiful. It was the truth.
"You're beautiful." he repeated himself, meeting your gaze again. "And caring, and lovely, and you worry all too much." he said, taking your hands in his larger calloused ones.
"Y/n, the Daily Prophet sells their stories - fear mongering is the best way to do that right now. That doesn't mean everything that they report on is true. I know you don't read them anymore, but even if you're hearing rumours, they're twisted and modified constantly. Ninety per cent of it is bullshit." He explained for you, seeing as your rational mind had left you for weeks now when it came to these things.
You felt all your worries crumble away as his soothing tone fought them all back as he explained why your stresses were fickle.
"And you know you're a genius, right?" he smiled. "I know you love to study but you've barely had any fun in the last week. No wonder you're feeling so down - you're listening to your brain's needs and not Y/n's needs. Your textbooks will still be there waiting for you whenever you decide to come back to them, but we all miss you, Y/n/n." he admitted.
"And we're all still here. Us marauders, your room mates, your parents and friends - everyone you love is still here. And we're not leaving you."
"Promise?" you whispered, eyes sad and hopeful all at once.
"I promise." he vowed, nodding.
He began to kiss away your last few tears as they fell, cupping your face in his large hands. Between each kiss, he filled the air with whispers of 'It's okay' and 'You're safe' and 'I'm here'.
You found yourself tilting your head upwards slightly as his kisses fell upon other parts of your face - your forehead, your temples, your nose…
And finally, your lips.
Your eyes fluttered closed as he brushed feather light kisses to your lips, one after the other after the other. It was tantalising - so much so that you found yourself leaning into his kiss, wanting more. He smiled softly at this reaction, his other hand leaving yours and travelling around your waist to pull you closer to him.
Your hands slowly found themselves rising up his abdomen and gripping his jumper as you continued, clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you didn't. You felt his tongue glide across your lips, asking for entrance, which you gave him without a second thought.
What started out as what Sirius thought would be a simple peck to comfort you, turned into yet another slow and longing kiss. Sweet sighs and soft moans were lulled out of you as the both of you lost your heads, him laying you back on your bed and hovering over you.
At some point, his lips left yours and began to trail soft and loving kisses to your jaw and neck, not a thought going through Sirius' mind but trying to make you feel as safe and loved as he possibly could.
But you began to think - What would this all lead to? You were feeling that same flutter in your heart, but was he? Did this mean anything to him?
"Stop..." you breathed out a whisper, gently rubbing his clothed bicep to regain his attention. "Stop..."
He immediately pulled back, searching your eyes. Were you uncomfortable? Was this too much?
"What's wrong, my love?" He asked, concern furrowing his brow.
His love.
You lifted your hand to his, which was rested on your cheek, looking up at him with nothing but adoration.
But then his gaze became suffocating, and your eyes drifted away. It appeared so much like love, how he looked at you.
And it was utterly perplexing.
You bit your lip as it began to quiver, beginning to feel tears well up again. "I'm sorry, we'll stop." he muttered, sitting up and bringing you with him. "I'm sorry." he told you, moving away from you slightly.
"You don't need to be." you said, catching his hand in yours. "I'm not." you added in a whisper. "It's just…" you trailed off, internally sighing.
It's now or never.
"What are we doing?" you asked, a tiredness prevalent in your voice that you didn't know you felt.
"I mean, do you feel anything when we kiss?" you questioned rhetorically, continuing your frustrated rant with tears still slipping through your lashes. "This obviously isn't even going anywhere. Every time it happens, we just go back to pretending it didn't. And it's so confusing, Sirius." you sighed.
"Can you at least tell me why you kiss me?" You actually found the courage to look up at him at this point, to try and gauge his emotions. You didn't care if you had distorted your friendship - you needed answers, and now.
Sirius let out a tired sigh of his own as he pondered. His gaze fixated on your still intertwined hands, he mumbled his answer to you quietly.
"Because it's the only way to say what I'm afraid to tell you."
You blinked.
"Tell me what?" you asked in a small voice, hoping he could hear the begging in your tone for him to use his words for once.
"That even when you're crying, you're still the most beautiful sight I'll ever know." he said, fumbling with his rings. "That you've become a better home for me than my own family ever was."
"That no matter how hard I try, I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending they're you." He shook his head, laughing slightly about how stupid his hesitation to tell you all this was.
He no longer felt that hesitation, that fear.
He saw you. And he could finally tell you.
"I love you."
When you didn't respond, he didn't mind. He knew, after all his insincerity and meandering around his feelings, that you would need convincing that they were real. Instead, he filled the silence with all his reasons for loving you.
"I love you because you're sweet, and do things for all of us when you think we don't realise - leaving chocolate out for Moony, helping James try to get Lily, being a rock for every single first year to lean on when it comes to those difficult charms exams." he pondered.
He continued on for a while about the small things he'd noticed about you, before he summarised it. "I love you because you're selfless, caring, and kind." he said, finally earning a smile from you.
"That's another thing. That smile. And that cute blush you get whenever anyone compliments you." he grinned, as your cheeks pinkened. "There it is." he smirked, caressing one of your cheeks as you giggled, looking away.
"That's another thing I love about you - that you laugh like a four year old." Then you both laughed, and you jokingly furrowed your brow with a slight pout. There was the Y/n he missed.
"And that you're completely unaware of your effect on me." He trailed off as he looked at her, looking at him. “I’ve never felt like this before.”
And finally - in that moment, you didn't need any more convincing. You leaned in, kissing him on your own accord for the first time, and uttering the words he’d previously been so afraid of, but now wanted to hear for the rest of his life.
"I love you too."
558 notes · View notes
dyed-red · 2 years
Text
so we all agree that “dean’s pronouns are we/us” but -- the complexity of what that means and how it functions in his relationship with sam??? let’s discuss.
consider 5x05:
Dean: y’know I -- I think we oughta ease into it, put the training wheels back on.
Sam: so you think i need training wheels?
Dean: no, ‘we’. we need training wheels, you and me. as a team.
and it’s just - dean literally speaks as if he speaks for them as a team, speaking first with that assumption and with the assumption sam will understand the ‘we’ is implied, and then spelling it out with the collective pronoun and meaning it. 
and it creates some friction, because sam doesn’t carry the same collective assumption. sam’s insecurity gets in the way of him assuming that dean is included in the training wheels statement. 
their approaches to their insecurities about each other are so different and this showcases how. it’s so fascinating to me because of it! 
each brother has a deep-seated fear of abandonment by the other, but through their experiences and their personalities, their insecurities manifest differently, and so do their approaches and coping mechanisms. 
-
an insecure sam pulls back and puts up walls between him and the collective that is his family, that is his brother, and assumes he’s not included (so that he cannot therefore become excluded. if he wasn’t invited in the first place he can’t be kicked out). of course this happens for him -- he watched dad and dean go on hunts and leave him behind and he wasn’t invited, and so copes by assuming he’s not invited, not ‘in’, until proven otherwise. 
sam holds himself at arm’s length and leaves first because he can’t bear to be excluded by dean, to lose dean or to lose dean’s faith and pride in him. he desperately grasps at existing as an individual, clings to this notion of independence, because to disappoint his family (to disappoint dean) and to lose their approval is too damaging. to see them hurt would be too damaging. to blame himself for it would be too damaging. he copes by excluding himself first, rather than hate himself and them for the inevitability of where this life leads, for the inevitability of not being enough. 
so sam, for the first 11 or so seasons, doesn’t really speak in “we/us” terms, and doesn’t make that assumption that dean is either unless they’re on good terms and flowing well and it's implied. he sometimes even huffs or challenges it a little, that dean assumes for him. he has to, because to let himself be sucked into dean’s orbit is terrifying, because that approval becomes something to lose. and as soon as they are off-beat even a little, he does not assume he is included in the collective of dean, because he can’t let himself. 
(there’s more i could say in here about sam and autonomy and loss of self, about possession too, about part of why he’s resistant to the collective ‘us’ instead of the individual ‘i’ stemming from being brought up only as part of that collective and never having the before/after that dean did. sam was the outsider, the only one in the family who didn’t know the truth and had to learn and figure it out himself, who was left behind, so he was forced to be an ‘i’ whereas john and dean saw themselves and their roles as protecting sam, and therefore the ‘we’ was implied for them even when they left him behind.)
-
and dean? he enfolds sam into his self-concept so utterly that the cognitive dividing line between himself and sam literally isn’t there sometimes. he has wants and needs and hurts and experiences that extend beyond sam, and has genuine resentments around how many of them he has sacrificed for sam and in order to protect him (taught and enforced by his father, and then claimed by him). 
it’s born of fierce love manifesting through duty, but all the same it means he’ll chose sam every time, doesn’t even consider himself as having a choice not to. the shtriga episode teaches us this -- that dean equates selfhood with endangering sam, and therefore willingly gives over into ego-destruction to enfold sam into himself. sam’s wants are his wants, sam’s needs are his wants, and he will protect and absolve and save his little brother because that’s who he is. 
(how far does this go - how blurred is that line? do sam’s puppy dog eyes work so well on dean because when sam wants something, dean ends up experiencing that want as well, want for sam to have that thing? is sam wanting tantamount to dean wanting? does dean know where that line ends and begins? sometimes, but not always?)
and of course this comes from his other experiences too, not just the shtriga but a lifetime of them. sam was an outsider with a necessary concept of ‘i’, but dean carried him from a fire at 4 years old and the cost of being an ‘i’ has never been worth it, the pricetag inconceivable. he doesn’t fear sam’s disappointment or loss of trust the way sam fears his -- their dynamic wouldn’t survive if he did -- even though it hurts him too whenever that happens. but the immediacy of sam in danger has been in his bones since four years old and that’s what matters most.
so dean doesn’t need sam to trust him or even include him (though he’s desperate for that too) half so much as he needs sam safe. sam can walk away and destroy dean’s heart, and dean won’t force him to stay so long as he’s still alive and safe. a safe sam is a sam who is part of him even if he will never speak to dean again, and this is acceptable because it means sam is still there, always there inside dean’s self-concept, a foregone conclusion as such. a dead sam is not -- there’s nothing left to include, nothing but a memory.
-
look how this plays out in how they soothe and hurt each other both through this:
dean will, by some turns, beg sam to trust him (when sam is hallucinating) and to have faith in him (stone number one), so as to fill his own need to protect sam through relating to sam’s needs. and then by other turns, he will deny his own trust to sam and instead make decisions on behalf of sam (gadreel) so long as it keeps him safe, because the loss of sam is too big to bear (literally would rather sell his soul for a year of borrowed time than bear it). the death of sam is the ego-death of dean.
and sam will, by some turns, ask dean to be open with him (after dad’s death, after hell) so as to earn private confidences and prove his merit through dean’s own need for there to be no boundary between them. and by other turns, he will leave (to stanford, with ruby, after lucifer rises) because the threat of failing dean and the reality of losing dean’s trust are similarly too much to bear. to fail him again, to lose dean’s faith entirely would be as if dead, would similarly be the ego-death of sam. 
(to him, dean is “the one thing in the whole would [he] could always count on” and “the only thing [he’s] ever known that was true”. to lose dean’s faith in him is to be dead inside just the same as sam’s death makes dean dead inside.) 
(leaving, at times, although he knows it hurts dean, can thus be read as a way to head off the complete loss of dean’s faith in him, or the complete loss of self into dean where the threat of losing that faith would become unbearable. it becomes a way to regain dean’s faith too, to prove he can exist on his own and earn dean’s trust and respect and be someone dean will rely on again.)
-
to bring this back to we/us, dean asserting the collective, speaking for both of them -- when they are on a footing where they are together and in agreement and not in imminent danger of one (sam) leaving, it’s interesting how dean will challenge sam’s individuality and reinforce the collective. 
Dean: no, ‘we’. we need training wheels, you and me. as a team.
And sam doesn’t challenge that, because the inclusion is what they both want, really. Even when he disagrees, by late seasons once they are firm on the fact that they are fully in this together, nothing will ever divide them, we see them hash out this collective identification in fascinating ways. From 12x15:
Sam: I didn’t tell you ‘cause I know how much you hate them [BMol].
Dean: No, we hate them. Us, together.
Sam: I - I get that. I do.
dean enforces the collective and sam does not deny it, does not argue it. Yes, I get that. Yes, We hate them. but... here’s my points on why i’m working with them. and dean agrees, ‘okay’. would he agree as easily if sam challenged him on the ‘we/us’? honestly i don’t think so. because look how this feeds so well into what they both need: dean asserts the collective and shared selfhood between he and sam, and sam agrees to that collective selfhood, and then dean trusts sam’s decision. ego-affirmation on both sides, a stable healthy relationship.
yes - healthy. they’re insane, your honour, but in the late seasons their relationship is for all intents and purposes one that is healthy for their needs and how they function, and it is operating in a way that serves them. observe what this leads to by season 13:
Sam: And if we die? We do that together too.
so by the late-game narrative, sam has developed enough faith in his connection with dean, and in himself and his ability to keep dean’s love and faith despite all for which he blames himself, that he has let go of his need to be an individual and surrendered equally to the collective self-concept he shares with dean. (therapy voice here: sam has soothed his hurt and abandoned inner child enough to be ready to take that step forward into what he authentically wants to have with dean, rather than continue to put up walls to protect himself)
and for sam it doesn’t look quite the same as it does with dean, is both more and less overt depending on the lens you take (how much he submits to dean’s will and judgment, and yet how much he maintains of his own routines and selfhood). but it’s real - it’s that erosion of the boundary around himself he placed, so that he and dean can share this too.
this leads directly into that speech in 15x17 in Unity, begging dean to put down the gun:
Sam: I know you feel like that right now - okay? I know you do. But you gotta trust me. My entire life, you've protected me -- from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know? But it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. 
Like -- that’s it! that sums it up! you are in my self-concept, you are here, you are what is real to me. i need your trust. 
that’s the ego-affirmation for both of them, the only way they function and stay functioning as a collective entity - through acknowledgement and commitment to existing as a collective rather than as individuals (for dean) and through mutual trust and acknowledgement of that shared trust without boundary (for sam). i can criticise late-seasons writing and take issue with glynn’s (the writer’s) approach to certain plot points all i want -- this speech gets their dynamic and what they need from one another.
-
so that was a lot. but tl;dr, dean’s pronouns are we/us and sam’s are too whenever dean needs to hear it :)
92 notes · View notes
astaroth1357 · 3 years
Text
The (Un)Dateables Catch the MC Dancing/Singing By Themselves 
Full disclosure, couldn't think of anything for Luke... Sorry.
Diavolo
There are some human rituals that Diavolo finds just fascinating… One of them being the act of filming yourself dancing to a short clip of music then posting said film to the internet. He hears it's a surprisingly popular human world activity!
So maybe the MC shouldn’t have been AS surprised by his reaction when he walked in on them doing the latest internet dance craze alone in the RAD Student Council room. They have figured that he would scold them for doing something so silly in such an important place… but he actually seemed intrigued!
Actually, scratch that. He was delighted!
Maybe it’s his human world fascination or because Barbatos never lets him have any fun - or maybe he just wanted the chance to be a part of something with the little human - but he insisted that the MC teach him the steps to whatever they were doing so he could join in!
A couple hours later, Levi and Asmo are running around to all their brothers and thrusting a viral video of the MC and the Prince of Hell dancing together on whatever the Devildom version of TikTok is...
And somewhere parallel to that, Lucifer is trying desperately not to choke on his own coffee as Diavolo sends him that same video over chat with the message:
Diavolo: Lucifer! Lucifer!
Diavolo: I think I’ve become a meme! :D
And lo, a new TikTok duo was born.
Barbatos 
Afternoon tea at the Castle is both a very extravagant and yet casual affair. Barbatos always provides the best service and the grandiose setting of the palace give everything an air of splendor, but getting to actually sit and chat with the butler is anything but stiff and formal. 
It’s usually calming more than anything. The kind of activity that shouldn’t feel as relaxed as it is but always somehow turns into a tranquil, dare say familiar, experience. 
So it really should have been expected that the MC would feel comfortable enough to sing a little om--in the garden’s gazebo while they waited for Barbs to brew their tea. They must have thought they were alone… but not really.
Very few things that happen in the castle without Barbs knowing about it. He was bound to walk in on them eventually. 🤷‍♀️
And of course Barbs, being Barbs, left no hint that he was listening until they were pretty much done with the song. All he did was quietly clear his throat from where he had been standing, leaving the MC to wonder if he had been standing there the whole time... (Seriously, this man could be a ninja. He’s so hard to notice sometimes…)
When he brought their cup over to them, he just smiled at their embarrassment and caught their chin between his fingers...
“While I had intended to prepare oolong tea for us tonight, perhaps I should have brought you chamomile instead? I would hate for such a lovely voice to get strained... Should I go fetch us some now?”
Barbatos used Charm! It was Super Effective!... MC fainted…. 😔
Simeon 
Libraries are usually quiet places and the RAD library is no exception. Unless a natural loudmouth like Mammon or Asmo passes through, most of the time it’s dead silent in there. 
Now, the RAD library is also HUGE. If you were to walk from on end to the other, you’d pass by hundreds of shelves of old tomes, spellbooks, novels, scrolls, songbooks… just almost every kind of print in the world. Someone can go in with a friend and, if they weren’t paying attention, lose track of them for an hour at least.
So the MC could honestly be forgiven for thinking that they could sing to themselves without anyone noticing. What were the chances that a demon student would want to go by the Christian fiction section???
Well, though it was true a demon may not want anything to do with the overly Jesus-y stuff, an angel may enjoy poking some lighthearted fun at it. Or at least one angel in particular, anyway.
Poor MC could have gone from singing to screaming when Simeon came up behind them and popped out one of their earbuds! Though he wasn’t particularly sneaky or anything, they just had their back to him and he thought it’d be cute to see them jump… 🙄
That still didn’t stop him from smiling inches from their face like he totally didn’t know exactly what he was doing right then.
“I’m sorry, MC, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Whether or not the MC wanted to complain, they get cut off by a warm, gloved finger pressed against their lips.
“You really shouldn’t be singing in libraries, MC… They’re meant to be quiet places. But if you’d like to sing somewhere else, I’d love to come along! I think your voice is just stunning, if you don’t mind me saying so.” 
Translation: Someone’s looking for a private show... The sly bastard... 😖
Solomon
The MC's first mistake was rummaging through Solomon's things and assuming everything would be fine.
They weren’t doing anything nefarious, they were just looking for a particular spellbook of his, but Solomon keeps his laboratory bedroom at a near constant state of clutter.
They can't really remember how it happened… Maybe their hand brushed a bottle that knocked over a test tube then rolled across a table to hit something else and so on - but as they were searching they found themselves struck with a sudden uncontrollable urge to… dance.
Dance with all their might! Dance like the world was ending!! Dance until they could no longer stand!!! DANCE DAMMIT DANCE!!!
And that's how Solomon found them. Moving and shaking like their life depended on it in the middle of his bedroom… It didn't take him long to work out what happened.
You know that French Dancing Plague? The one that caused a town to dance until they dropped? … Would you believe that he may know a thing or two about how that started? Not ALL of his experiments are successful you know. 
The merciful man would have cured the MC of their affliction on the spot. … But the clever man sees an opportunity. 😏
What's the harm in doing a little dancing when he can have such a lovely partner all to himself, yeah? 😌
And so, he let the plague consume him and danced the night away with the MC in his arms (with the spell needed to the cure the “plague” still totally in his memory, of course).
Meanwhile, it had already begun to spread to Luke and Simeon… then got carried to the House and Demon Lord's Castle… and then to the rest of Devildom as all of Hell's denizens danced for hours utterly mystified by their own actions.
The event would later be known as "The Festival of Madness," Devildom historians to this day still don't know what caused it… (and he's not itching to explain either. Let's let that just stay a little secret between him and MC, cool?)
853 notes · View notes
Note
Hey! I love your meta’s, a little while ago you talked about The Order of the Phoenix as an organization could you talk about the Death Eaters?
The post anon is referencing.
TL;DR the Order is incompetently hilarious and Dumbledore is a man who trusts no one.
Oh, the Death Eaters, what to say about the Death Eaters...
In a World Without Voldemort, They'd Probably Be Arsonists
One of the things JKR implies in the series, and something fandom seems to take for granted, is that Tom Riddle is the ultimate corrupting influence.
Were it not for him, the Wizarding World would be a much better place, and people like Bellatrix LeStrange would be productive members of society.
As soon as he is killed, even, by Harry, the good guys win, their problems all presumably solved, and Harry tells his son Albus Severus that it's totally fine if he's put into Slytherin.
I don't believe that though.
To me, it's not so much that Tom Riddle corrupted these people, but that he gave them an organized cause. The people themselves, oh, they were itching for a fight.
In a world without Tom I think they'd be a loosely, poorly organized, group (probably with Bellatrix as the ring leader) where they commit acts of domestic terrorism probably involving burning offensive shops to the ground or attacking muggleborns, halfbloods, and blood traitors.
Voldemort, to me, is designed to pander to them (and not the other way around).
The Death Eaters' Beginnings
So, first off, I think Tom's goals are not what he says they are. What he represents to his followers is exactly what they want to hear, wrapped in a grandiose theatric bow that they just love.
But how did this all start?
First, I don't believe in the Knights of Walpurgis. Instead I think Tom came relatively out of nowhere in the 70's uses parseltongue to prove his heritage as the Heir of Slytherin and thus of purer blood than any of them.
He throws these exciting rallies/parties that the rebellious, angsty, teenage heirs all go to. There he says everything they wanted to hear in the most eloquent manner they've ever heard, promises them the action that their fathers have never delivered, promises them a role in the glorious revolution and a place in history, and probably offers them mounds of cocaine.
All the Death Eaters we see, or the core of them, appear to be in this age range where they'd be in Hogwarts or just out of it when Voldemort came knocking. I can imagine they're all whipped up with excitement, YEAH LET'S BLOW UP THE MUDBLOODS and for some that's great, for others... things don't go the way they expected.
October 31, 1981: It All Falls Apart
Regulus famously steals Tom's horcrux. I imagine it wasn't so much that he learned the error of his ways but that he saw what Tom Riddle was really after: the destruction of his very society.
Lucius is riding high until October 31, 1981 and he sees the complete destruction of the entire Black family. Lucius' priorities greatly shift and as he grows older he prays Voldemort never returns. Unfortunately, Tom does, and he charges interest.
Bellatrix absolutely loses her mind, refuses to accept reality, and tries to torture the Longbottoms for information they do not possess. She is imprisoned in Azkaban and never truly recovers from this.
Snape ends up the cause of death for Lily Evans and must forever live with the guilt and be tied to her prophesied son. He also becomes Dumbledore's lackey forever, which ultimately gets him killed.
Point being, no one's having a good time. Some because they figure out being a Death Eater wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and others because they had the Voldemort rug pulled out from under their feet when Tom Riddle disappears.
Pettigrew flees and lives as the Weasley rat for nearly fifteen years.
They're left making a mad scramble as they try to pick up the pieces of their lives.
Canon Catches Up
More than ten years go by and then suddenly, in a muggle graveyard, the surviving Death Eaters discover that they are bound to Voldemort for the rest of their lives.
Death cannot stop this man and he has branded them: there's no escape.
Some are still enthusiastic supporters of the cause: Bellatrix is vindicated that her lord has returned, he rescues her from hell on earth, and everything's finally coming up Bella. Barty is similar in actively working for Voldemort's resurrection.
Lucius, meanwhile, lives in constant terror. Karkaroff desperately flees the country and hopes Tom will not find him. Snape, is in fact, Dumbledore's agent. Pettigrew only returned in utter desperation and has now cut off his own hand.
They're not the young men they were, some of them have families, to some of the past ten years have been utterly miserable. They have to watch as their children make the same damn mistakes they did, be sucked into this same hell hole, and there's nothing they can do about it.
There is a notable reluctance for the cause, and yet, they have to try with the same vigor or this madman will kill them all.
And it's all worthless anyway: come 1998, Voldemort dies again (perhaps for real this time, who knows, Harry Potter seems to think so for whatever reason) and then they are imprisoned for their acts as Death Eaters.
And they just laugh, because how badly Lucius wishes he could go back in time and tell his eighteen-year-old self, "YOU DUMB FUCK, LEAVE NOW!"
But Do They Learn Anything?
No.
Just because we see some of them regret being Death Eaters doesn't mean they regret their beliefs. Their beliefs were fine, even blowing up people here and there, a bit gauche but fine.
But maybe following Voldemort blindly was a bad idea.
Are They More Competent Than the Order?
No.
Tom Riddle is terrifyingly competent in that he infiltrates the government with ease, has spies everywhere, and all but proclaims himself minister one day and nobody blinks.
He gains the full support of most of the wizarding world's wealthiest and prestigious families.
But he doesn't actually give these people anything to do. Because there's nothing for them to do, with them, Tom's won. He owns the Wizengamot, the Ministry, everything.
There's no need to fight. It's over, there never was a war. Society is primed to accept Tom Riddle as their ruler.
However, the likes of Bellatrix LeStrange thinks there's a glorious war on, so "uh, go out and blow up a few muggles, have fun." And the young Death Eaters (and the older ones), think they've committed this great, daring, brave, and very important act.
Tom only seems to hand out real assignments when in desperate straits or else when being particularly vindictive.
Lucius, after messing up with the diary, is told to retrieve a prophecy he is not allowed to touch in a department of the ministry he should have no access to. If he fails: Tom kills his entire family. When Lucius does fail, Tom assigns his son to assassinate an already dying Dumbledore. These aren't real tasks, though they do have the appearance of one, and consequences for failure.
Barty, Tom is forced to rely on, as he is trapped in this dying infant's body. And better Barty, someone who is truly loyal and seems fairly clever, than Peter Pettigrew who is a miserable scum bag who'd sell his grandmother for a bar of soap.
Barty, of course, fucks this up. Rather than just kidnap Harry Potter at any of the many easy points this could be done (Hogsmeade trip, lure Harry out to Hogsmeade with super secret serial information about Voldemort/Snape being a Death Eater, etc.), Barty is determined to make use of the Triwizard Tournament to destroy his father's legacy.
This means rather than a few weeks, it takes months to kidnap Harry, and even then they bring along an extra boy who then gets killed and provides some evidence that Tom Riddle has in fact returned. (Somebody murdered Cedric). It takes months and Barty actively ensuring Harry makes it through the tournament and does well, leaving open the possibility that he might get caught helping Harry cheat at any moment. And of course, Barty has to pretend to be Madeye Moody for months, keeping his man locked and drugged in his trunk.
Thankfully, Moody's such a paranoid wreck, no one even notices.
Quirrell, Tom is forced to rely on. Quirrell fucks up, though admittedly not as badly as Barty. Quirrell fails to steal the stone when it's in transit/in Gringotts. He fails to murder Harry Potter, an eleven year old boy in the world's most dangerous school. He rouses Snape's suspicion almost immediately. Then of course he doesn't get the stone. He at least gets to the room with the stone and nearly overpowers Harry and gets it had he not been mysteriously lit on fire by the power of love/Lily Evans.
The only one Tom ever really relies on by choice is Snape. Snape is charged with spying on Dumbledore and later running Hogwarts (which he fucks up).
There is only one competent man in Britain: Severus Snape. Which is, of course, why he's a double agent that Dumbledore and Tom both extensively rely on despite his being a double agent.
There's no one else.
Tom Riddle doesn't make use of the Death Eaters but given they prove themselves enthusiastically incompetent at every turn I don't blame him. Just pretend to give them something to do and hope it makes them feel important.
That's all I've got in general, you want anything else you'll have to ask for something more specific.
315 notes · View notes
lexpressobean · 3 years
Text
I've been thinking about these 3 alot...
Tumblr media
... and how much they seem to really respect Shino. I know it's a filler, but, like... Why does it seem like Shino has a knack for finding children who have wondered off away from school? Like, he's just taking a walk, making his way around the village or surrounding forest, and then there they are. Kids playing hooky or some shit. And Shino just takes it upon himself to approach them and steer them back to where they should be, while getting them attached to him somehow in the process??
But honestly. If this was just one of many times this had happened, I'd say Shino does this not out of his knack for teaching or having a way with kids. Rather, he developed a way with kids and easily applies that to his teaching because he has a strong desire to simply protect children. And it's not even from some paternal instinct as much as survival, because I think it stems from the developing trauma of losing Torune to Danzo. And I don't think it's all subconscious either.
Like I know the novel and anime frames his desicion to teach as a sort of a new goal in life as the war has ended for a couple years already and a noticable Peace has been achieved by the Blank Period and well... He's an Aburame.
Like, the Aburame are literal living, breathing, walking bioweapons. With no fight to utilize that, what else is there? Well, much like the Nara have the Nara forest and Pharmacology specifically, The Aburame most likely have a historical stake in the area of Konoha, perhaps it was simply in their Ancestral Home. Idk, but they're here to stay, they ain't budging. They're Clan Culture is very Martial and I'd argue Spartan in nature, but otherwise, they do other things too. I think they'd do well as major players in the conservation and research of native species of animals and plants, but definitely insects too. I bet they play a huge part in the general area's ecosystem, especially due to the fact that the Kamizuru clan attacked with a whole clan's worth of non-native Hymenoptera that could very well have become and still are an irritatingly and consistent problem as invasive species tend to be. And as a far as goods go, why not put some of them to use and handle an apiary? Honey is a great good to sell. All of this is great as a clan that no longer needs to fight. But, what about individual members in general, and so Shino?
Well Shino is the Heir of this clan. This Noble Clan. This "ready to throw hands at any moment" clan. It's future is in his hands, so to speak. So I doubt Shino would completely sever his connection to Shinobi life all together. And so, teaching at the Academy would be a great way to keep that connection. Teachers have to know their stuff, after all.
But what if in order to ensure teaching was his calling, Shino did his absolute best to make Jounin ASAP so he could take on a Genin Team. And. And by chance, it ended up being these three?? And they are absolutely STOKED!!! And they also pass Shino's genin test, which... would probably be a feat in it's own right. But they already know Shino, and Shino has bestowed upon them some wisdom they actually took to heart! Yeah, well, in reality they might be just a tad too old to be Shino's first official genin squad, but they were still his squad one point in a sense, right?
Tumblr media
Kon Nohara, Tano Ikemoto, and Aoki Kobayashi
I even gave them names help Imagine these three are already chuunin at least and decide they want to pay Shino a visit and even volunteer to help Shino during class time on a collective day off because they admire him so much (T~T)
But even then if not these three kiddos, maybe these three li'l shits lol
Tumblr media
Even in times of Peace, Shino's special set of skills seem too useful to waste, and being a Jounin teacher would definitely have been a way he could still go on missions, but also definitely commit to becoming a Sensei at the academy once he was 100% sure and got older. Kurenai became a Jounin/Genin Squad Leader in her late twenties, but in comparison I see Shino doing that more mid-20s. (He needs some time to travel and find his big bug friend and generally live a little?)
Tumblr media
Kurenai was a Genjutsu Specialist who manned a Tracker/Sensing based team. This sounds like it was a highly beneficial combination, even if she ended up being somewhat sadistic lol. Asuma was bound to Team 10 by Tradition as InoShikaCho and Sarutobi have that Pact together. Kakashi's team was literally Cherry Picked for him specifically by the 3rd Hokage. And Gai, a Taijutsu Specialist, had a team that Specialized in Taijutsu and Physical Offense.
Of all four teams, Kurenai and Gai were very suited to their teams, Gai in a complimentary way and Kurenai in a Challenging way. In that same vein, I think Shino would imitate Gai. Shino as a Shinobi himself has a general set of skills, but the way he goes about them are very niche. But, he was always very stealthy, and could sneak up on nearly anyone. Gags aside, he could go unnoticed as long as he wanted too, and by the time he was noticed or was ready to attack, he has you quite literally surrounded. Honestly I can see why Search and Destroy would be an Aburame's forte, but when there's no need, a person with a personal skill of high quality stealth could probably man a team with an emphasis on Reconnaissance and/or Surveillance, even Bodyguarding. I feel like Shino would probably put an emphasis on Stealth and Tracking too, utilizing his insects as sort of assistants that keep tabs on his students (Stealth Test) as well as to encourage just enough fear during too much down time in his students to inspire quality training opportunities, so maybe Kurenai rubbed off on Shino more than they all realized haha
(Plus I'm sure his students would be be smart and thoughtful enough to eventually understand what Shino and his bugs are: a complete unit. They realize just how strong and dedicated Sensei really is to be the way he is, and they all learn more in depth about Kikaichu and it's like WOW SENSEI YOU REALLY ARE RISKING BEING EATEN ALIVE EVERY SINGLE DAY, AREN'T YOU? But he's still here, because THAT'S how strong he's become over the years and the confidence to manipulate the Kikaichu while having to think of current chakra level, the most efficient use at any given time, how many he actually needs, how long usage will last, ect. They are high maintenance, man!)
Shino would no doubt produce highly skilled Bodyguards and Masters of Stealth. Maybe the type that would end up being in high demand for the eventual Celebrities that start to pop up as times change, but still very much needed when it comes to Criminal Activity, like in Sora-Ku?
But as time passes and he decided to teach at the Academy, he'd feel very at ease to do so. He'd be happy to be put in charge of all these children, because he would be able to help teach them things they need to know to defend themselves and others in a world where adults like Danzo had and will continue to exist. Maybe while he's at it, he'd use his stance as a Noble Clan Heir and accomplished Shinobi to push for changes in government with Sai's help and with Naruto and Shikamaru's cooperation? Like, the truth does come out, everyone on the Council were actually horrible and had too much power. So HERE are some ideas and REASONS why these ideas should be implemented because Shino's not going to let his brother's life and death be in vain!? HELL no, we WILL make some changes around here. Shino sees his students and just wants a future where no kid ever has to live in fear of being completely taken advantage of by the very system that was supposed to keep them safe and they pledged allegiance to.
Tumblr media
I cannot help but think of the quiet but absolute fear little Shino was harboring for the years to come after Torune was taken by that strange man and Father Shibi didn't even attempt to stop him. His own father didn't dare beat the shit out of this strange man who came looking for him, and the only solution for Shino to stay was for Torune to make himself look more desirable as an asset and be taken instead. I bet there was a lot of misplaced resentment there for a while, and talks that just didn't happen. Maybe a classmate doesn't show up to class one day and Shino is IMMEDIATELY stressed out and just... takes it upon himself to look for them after class. And he's relieved when he see they're simply at home with a fever. Shit like that just fucks with Shino, because theres people taking kids and no one is doing anything about it?? And then as Shino grew older he realized exactly what happened and how slimy the machine of Konoha really is and it was never completely Shibi's fault that Torune had to leave. He grows mentally at a faster rate than most of his classmates, and knows more than a kid really needs to know.
Shino doesn't want that for any other child. Shino is the kind of person who hears kids screaming outside of his house and he can't tell if they're playing or being murdered and it's stressful to the point he'll check through his window and he sees them for himself. He get stressed out seeing a kid in public unattended and WANTS to approach them to help if need be but also maybe he's overthinking it and the parents are there somewhere and he'd just end up looking suspicious. Like, that's what I kind of figure for Shino. He's so hyperaware of the power dynamic between kids and adults and seeing a kid so ready to fall victim to that makes Shino feel ill the more he thinks of what could happen. And he wonders if watching the kid in the market until they finally reunite with their parent so he could move on with the rest of his day causes him even a fraction of the the utterly disgusting flurry of nerves and fear that Shibi must have felt all those years ago. It goes along with his desire to spare every single little insect's life he can. It goes a long with the fact he only gets violent unless absolutely necessary. Like he wants to be strong but he doesn't want to go mad with power either, less he becomes the very thing that hurt him and his family in the first place.
Tumblr media
Originally Shino wanted to become strong to be able to defend himself because at a very young age adults failed him and Torune. But then that changes to defend not only himself, but others as he grows on a team, and realizes trust is important. And then he figured if there must be adults out there that would hurt a child, it's only logical that he should become one that would only nurture and teach one to be strong as well.
Anyway, yeah. Had some feelings. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.
141 notes · View notes
neuxue · 3 years
Note
Why do you think from a narrative point of view, Tam never taught Rand swordsmanship. Obviously he's got his war trauma and didn't want to steer his son toward war, and an author doesn't want his protagonist to be too competent at the outset (but he could always invent worse threats), but Rand masters his sword as he learns channeling, making it sort of redundant. What does it do for the character to be learning the sword in the early books, instead of knowing it when the story starts?
Something we see threaded through the story at various levels and in various ways throughout Wheel of Time is the interplay between change, identity, and cycles of repetition or theme-and-variation. And within those, the questions: what happens when you are confronted with something for which you are utterly unprepared? Who are you, and what does that mean when everything that contexualised it changes? What is lost, and what remains, and what ultimately comes full circle, and how?
At the largest scale, you have the world itself in this setting's concept of cyclical time and repeating Ages and the tension between stasis and change, inevitability and choice. Within that framing, we are given a past Age in which the concept of war was unknown, and society flourished, and all lived in a garden of innocence -- until that world is confronted with a darkness for which it previously had no name, and conflict for which it was wholly unprepared, and an enemy against which it was not competent to fight, despite all its brilliance elsewhere.
Then you have the Aiel, as we step fractal-like through the variations on this theme at different scales. The journey we see of their identity as it becomes almost opposite to what it once was, all but unrecognisable save for a central core of endurance and determination, and a single tenet - to never wield a sword - as a fixed point but in a context that changes so greatly as to render even that throughline of identity almost unrecognisable. And then as we move into the final phase of the story, further schisms and changes and revelations that bring them back to something almost resembling who they were when we first met them - but also changed, and approaching that point from a very different direction. Who are they, who call themselves Aiel? What does that identity mean? What parts of it do they keep, in their story of being confronted over and over with a world that changes from generation to generation, and demands of them something they are wholly unprepared to face, or to be?
A world, a people... and now, a character: the farmboy who has to become the saviour of the world, and somehow not lose himself along the way. A boy untaught in the ways of war, with hands callused by the ploughshare rather than the sword. An innocent, from a place that has largely forgotten the notion of war as more than an abstract. Like the world of the second Age, or the original Da'shain Aiel: the shepherd, Rand al'Thor. And then change comes, comes and places that sword in his hands and that power in his spirit and that far too heavy weight on his shoulders. Inevitability comes, and takes him from that land and from that person he was and demands something else of him, something far too much and something for which he - like the world of he second Age or the original Da'shain Aiel - is entirely unprepared, and yet something against which he cannot fight without dooming them all. And so the questions are asked of him throughout this story: who are you, when this is what you must become? What remains of the shepherd, when the world demands a saviour? How do you make the apple trees bloom, when your hands have had to learn the shape of blade and power and war and death?
So I think in part it's along the lines of what you said - this question of initial competence - but informing that is also the idea of what happens if you take a farmboy, an innocent, just a person no more and no less, and place that task and weight upon them. But it's not just about skill; it's about the identity element of it as well. It's about he only wanted to sit, and remember a shepherd named Rand al'Thor. It's about not just the struggle to learn those skills, but the very fact of their necessity, and reconciling that against who you thought you were. And then, so many steps later down that path, trying to retrieve some of who that person was, some of that version of yourself, when all innocence has long been lost and when you have the power at your fingertips to break the world and command kings and determine the fate of everyone. It's about a starting point, yes, but also something to, in those final days, look back on and draw from.
A Rand who begins the story already knowing the basics of the sword is a Rand who is, practially, just that little bit more prepared in both skill and psyche for what he must later become -- but also who is, symbolically, that one step less removed from the personification of a world before war, a people before violence (the Dragon is one with the land, after all).
Could you make the story work without Rand ever learning the sword at all? Yes, probably. Focus it more on his discovery of and conflict with and eventual mastery of channelling, and you could achieve much the same end. In that regard, I think the sword is largely there for the genre and the element of cool, and as another marker of skill gained... but I think it's also there as a symbolic marker of innocence lost, and of how Rand's path is forced from ploughshare to sword, and the almost insurmountable struggle of then trying to find a way back, or a way to reconcile the two, before all that remains of the shepherd is lost.
112 notes · View notes
the-desolated-quill · 3 years
Text
WandaVision: ‘Subverting’ Good Television - Quill’s Scribbles
Tumblr media
(Spoilers for the first five episodes)
Hey everyone! Well... it’s been a while, hasn’t it? The last time I wrote a proper review or Scribble, people still thought the COVID crisis would be over within a month. The poor saps. But I thought that as a special way to mark this year’s Valentines Day, we could take a closer look at the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s shittiest power couple in their new Disney+ show WandaVision.
The first of many MCU spin-off shows that nobody asked for, broadcast exclusively on Disney’s totally unnecessary streaming platform, WandaVision is about everybody’s favourite whitewashed Nazi experiment and her red sexbot boyfriend as they try to fit into a suburban sitcom neighbourhood without arousing suspicion.
Yes, you read that correctly. The MCU has a sitcom now. My life is now complete.
Sarcasm aside, I was legitimately curious about WandaVision because of its unusual setting. And considering one of my most common criticisms of the MCU is its total lack of creativity, anything that’s even a little bit subversive is bound to attract my attention. Of course ‘subversive’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good.’ I could hand you a canvas smeared with my own shit and call it subversive. That doesn’t necessarily make it good art. And that’s exactly what WandaVision is. A canvas smeared with shit.
So lets split this critical analysis/review/angry bitter rant into two distinct chapters. The first focusing on the plot and setting, and the second focusing on the characters. Okay? Okay.
Tumblr media
Chapter 1: Bewitched
Critics seem to be utterly enamoured with the whole sitcom gimmick, and it is a gimmick. As far as I can tell from the episodes I’ve seen, the sitcom setting serves no real purpose whatsoever other than to make the show ‘quirky.’ Which I wouldn’t mind, believe it or not, if the show was actually funny. There’s just one problem. It’s not.
Now in some ways describing why a sitcom doesn’t work is often futile because comedy is largely subjective. What I find funny, you won’t necessarily find funny and vice versa. With WandaVision, however, I won’t have that problem. I can demonstrate to you precisely why WandaVision, objectively, isn’t funny. And it all comes down to one simple thing. The stakes. Or rather the complete and total absence of stakes.
The show makes it very clear from the beginning that none of what we’re seeing is real. The cheesy theme song, the era appropriate special effects (mostly. It’s actually very inconsistent), the joke commercials, and, in the case of the first two episodes, which are in black and white, the appearance of red lights and objects in Scarlet Witch’s general vicinity. (Gee, what a mystery this is).
Basically Wanda has brought Vision back from the dead and created this sitcom world for them to inhabit. I’ll explain the stupidity of this in Chapter 2. The point is none of this is real, and that has a negative effect on the comedy because the very nature of comedy is suffering. Take the plot of the first episode. Wanda and Vision have to prepare a dinner to impress Vision’s boss. If they fail, Vision could lose his job and the couple could be exposed as superheroes. If this were a normal sitcom, it would work. The stakes are clear and it would be satisfying to see the two struggle and overcome the odds. But here, we know it’s not real. If it’s not real, it means there’s no stakes. If there’s no stakes, it means there’s no suffering. If there’s no suffering, there’s no comedy.
It would be one thing if the unfunny sitcom stuff lasted for like the first ten minutes or so before making way for the actual plot, but it doesn’t. Oh no. It doesn’t even last for the first episode. Out of the five episodes I’ve watched, four of them are almost entirely about these unfunny, objectively flawed sitcom homages, each set in a different time period. The fifties, the sixties, and so on. And what’s worse is that nothing that happens in them is plot-relevant. That gets relegated to the last five minutes of an episode. So you’re forced to sit through twenty five minutes of boring slapstick and puns in order to catch even a whiff of actual story. Which begs the question... who is this for exactly? It can’t be entertaining to Marvel fans, who have to slog through all this pointless shit so they can figure out what the fuck is going on. Comedy fans may get a kick out of the sitcom pastiche at first, but after four episodes, surely the joke would wear thin. So why is it in here? Clearly someone in the writer’s room absolutely fell in love with the idea of doing a Marvel sitcom, but nobody put in any time or effort to figure out how it would work in context.
Tumblr media
I cannot stress enough how bad the plotting of this series is. As I said, the vast majority of a thirty minute episode is about shitty sitcom plots that aren’t funny and don’t have any impact on the story, only to then tease you with a crumb of actual plot in order to keep you coming back for the next instalment. Admittedly it’s an effective strategy. I was more than ready to quit after Episode 2 until that beekeeper showed up out of the sewer (don’t ask. It’s not important). WandaVision essentially follows the Steven Moffat school of bad writing. String your audience along with the promise that things might get more interesting later on and that all the bullshit that came before will retroactively make sense by the end. Except, as demonstrated with BBC’s Sherlock, that doesn’t work. And even if it did, it wouldn’t justify wasting the audience’s fucking time. And that’s what the majority of WandaVision is. A waste of time.
The only episode that doesn’t follow the sitcom format is the fourth episode. Instead it basically exists to explain all the shit that happened before. The shit that the audience, frankly, are smart enough to figure out for themselves. Wanda created the sitcom world as a way of coping with the loss of Vision, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, we got it. Thanks. It doesn’t advance the plot or anything. It’s just a massive info-dump. But by far the lowest point was when Darcy (by far the most annoying character in the first Thor film and is just as obnoxious here) was sat in front of the TV, watching the sitcom and asking the same questions we were. Not even attempting to look for answers. Just reiterating what the audience is thinking. Like this is an episode of fucking Gogglebox.
In the end it becomes apparent why the series is structured the way that it is. It’s to hoodwink people into subscribing to Disney’s stupid streaming service. If you think about it, there was no reason for WandaVision to be a TV series other than to lure gullible fans in with a piece-meal story buried in a mountain of crap. This isn’t a TV show. It’s what is cynically known in the world of big business executives as ‘content.’ They’re not interested in entertaining the audience. Instead they crave ‘engagement’, which isn’t the same thing. Watching WandaVision is like staring into the void, waiting for something to happen, while Disney charge you for the privilege.
Tumblr media
Chapter 2: I Love Lucy
So the plot sucks balls. What about the characters? Surely if Wanda and Vision are likeable at least, it’ll give us something to cling onto.
Well as I was watching the first episode, it suddenly hit me that I couldn’t remember anything that happened to them in previous films. I knew Vision died, but other than that, I couldn’t tell you significant plot details or their personalities or anything. Not a great start.
See, up until now, Vision and Scarlet Witch have been little more than background characters. So already there’s an uphill struggle to get us invested in their relationship, especially considering we haven’t actually seen that relationship develop. In Avengers: Age Of Ultron, Scarlet Witch is killing people because she’s pissed off about Tony Stark killing people (you work that one out) until all of a sudden she stops and joins the good guys because the script said so. Vision meanwhile is introduced as a convenient deus ex machina to beat Ultron and gets no real personality other than he’s a robot. Captain America: Civil War comes the closest to giving Wanda a story and personality of her own as it’s her actions that cause the Sokovia Accords to come into effect, but she never gets any real growth or payoff as the film is heavily focused on Cap and Iron Man’s penis measuring contest. And as for Vision, all he does in the film is accidentally cripple War Machine. No real character or arc there as such. And then we have Avengers: Infinity War, where Wanda and Vision are now sporadically in love and on the run until that pesky Josh Brolin, looking like a CGI cross between Joss Whedon and a grumpy grape, comes along and rips out Vision’s Infinity Stone to power up his golden glove of doom, and the film treats this like a tragic moment, except... it isn’t. Because we haven’t really had the time to properly get to know these characters and see their romance blossom. So instead it just comes off as hollow and forced.
WandaVision has the exact same problem. Apparently Wanda was so distraught about Vision’s death that she broke into a SWORD base, stole his corpse, brought it back from the dead... somehow, and then enslaved an entire town of people to create an idyllic lifestyle for her and her hubby while broadcasting it as a sitcom to the outside world... for some reason. Putting aside the dubious morality of it all, it’s impossible to really sympathise with Wanda or her supposed grief because we’ve barely spent any time with her. Had the Marvel movies taken the time to properly explore the characters and show us their relationship grow and develop, this might have had more emotional resonance. But no, it just happens. In one film they barely speak to each other and in the next they’re a couple. No effort to explore how they feel about each other or any of the problems that may arise trying to date a robot. It just happens and we’re just supposed to care. Well I’m sorry, but I don’t care. You’re going to have to try a little bit harder than that I’m afraid. What’s worse is that, thanks to the whole fake sitcom thing, it’s impossible to really become invested in Wanda and her plight because the show has to constantly keep us at arms length at all times in order to keep up the pretence that this bullshit is somehow mysterious.
Looking through the WandaVision tag, it amuses me how many people say that she’s acting out of character. And yeah, her actions are a bit of a head scratcher. Why would an Eastern European’s ideal life be an American sitcom? Why a sitcom? Why kidnap an entire town? Why keep changing the decade? None of it makes sense, but you’re wrong for thinking that Wanda is behaving out of character for the simple reason that Wanda has never actually had a character. In fact, ironically, Wanda mind controlling an entire town and forcing them to do her bidding is probably the one consistent thing about her as she did this in Age Of Ultron. In interviews, Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany described how they used actors like Elizabeth Montgomery and Dick Van Dyke as influences, which is really funny because they’re straight up admitting they don’t have characters and even now they’re still not playing the characters, instead emulating the work of far better actors.
Tumblr media
As I was watching the show, it became abundantly clear that not only do Marvel not have the faintest idea what they wanted to do with these characters, but they also straight up don’t give a shit about these characters. Wanda in particular has had a rough time under the tyrannical regime of the House of Mouse. First they cast Elizabeth Olsen, a white woman, to play a Romani character, then systematically erasing her Jewish roots, even going so far as to put a cross in her bedroom in Civil War, and now the character is being butchered even more by forcing her into an American sitcom housewife role that she apparently willingly chose for herself, which is laughable. I mean say what you like about Magneto in the X-Men films, at least they actually depicted his Jewish culture. At least they recognised his Jewish background was important (though not important enough to cast a Jewish actor apparently). Wanda’s steady cultural erasure over the years is incredibly insidious and judging by Olsen’s comments in interviews, where she called Wanda’s comic book outfit a quote ‘gypsy thing’ unquote, it seems nobody has an ounce of fucking respect for the character or the culture she’s supposed to be representing. (and to all those kissing her arse saying it was a slip of the tongue, she has been repeatedly called out for using the slur in the past, so at this point I’d describe her behaviour as wilful ignorance)
If you want further proof of how much Marvel doesn’t seem to care about Wanda, look no further than her brother Pietro, aka Quicksilver. At the end of Episode 5, Wanda brings Pietro back from the dead, except it’s not Pietro. It’s Peter Maximoff, the Quicksilver from the X-Men films played by Peter Evans, who coincidentally is not Jewish or Romani either. So Quicksilver has the dubious honour of not only being whitewashed three times, but also twice within the same franchise. But should we really be surprised at this point? It’s Marvel after all. The same company that whitewashed the Ancient One in Doctor Yellowface and claimed it wasn’t racist because Tilda Swinton is ‘Celtic’. But now I’m going off topic. My point is that this isn’t a simple case of recasting an actor like Mark Ruffalo replacing Edward Norton as the Hulk. WandaVision actually acknowledges the recast in-universe, which makes no sense. Why would Wanda bring back her brother, only to make him look like a different person? We the audience may be familiar with this version of Quicksilver, but she isn’t. That would be like me bringing my Grandad back to life and making him look like Ian McKellen. He’d be perfectly charming, I’m sure, but he wouldn’t be my Grandad. 
If Marvel really cared about the characters or narrative consistency, they would have brought Aaron Taylor Johnson back. Instead, now they have absorbed 20th Century Fox into the hellish Disney abyss, they use X-Men’s Quicksilver as a means to keep viewers from switching off and so that people will write stupid articles and think pieces about whether the rest of the X-Men will show up in the MCU. It’s like dangling your keys in front of a toddler’s face to distract them from the rotting corpse of a raccoon lying face down in the corner of the room.
And it’s here where I decided to stop watching the show because fuck Disney.
Epilogue: One Foot In The Grave
You know, I am sick and tired of the so called ‘professional’ critics bending over backwards to praise these god awful films and shows when it’s so clear to anyone with a functioning brain cell how bad they truly are. WandaVision is without a doubt one of the most cynically produced and poorly structured TV shows I’ve ever seen. Its riffs on classic sitcoms are pointless and self-indulgent, the writing is terrible, the characters are unlikable and unsympathetic, and it’s entirely emblematic of what the entire MCU has become of late. And it’s only going to get worse as Disney drowns us with more ‘content’ to keep the plebs ‘engaged’. In short; pathetic.
188 notes · View notes
bluefirewrites · 3 years
Text
While You Sleep
One shot based off a Juke headcanon I had about protective Luke. This is for this momentous March 4th JATP trending day. Here’s to clowning with you!
___________
She noticed him there one night. An almost indistinguishable blob huddled out her window, dark clothes blending in with the shingles, the trees- the night.
It was too late for either of them to be up.
Yes, Julie was aware that ghosts had no need to sleep. No bodies meant no circadian rhythm.
But he wasn’t supposed to be there.
Rubbing her eyes and groping her desk for her glasses, Julie tiptoed across the room, mindful not to make too much noise. It was past midnight after all.
She cracked open her window, the slight breeze playing with her hair as she stuck her head out.
“Luke?” she called, startling the ghost.
“Julie!” He all but yelped. Normally cool and confident, Luke Patterson scrambled, limbs moving wildly, “Uh, hey. What are you- What are you doing up?” he coughed then shot her a smile.
Would have been that perfect smile Julie had raved about to Flynn if it hadn’t come off as hesitant, as a ruse. It didn’t push against his cheeks like they were supposed to. If he hadn’t been a ghost, she would have chalked it up to fatigue.  
She nodded her head at the door, “I had to go to the bathroom.”
A yawn snuck out her mouth. Luke’s eyes softened at the sound.
“You should go back to sleep,”
Julie looked him over again, noting his attire. A beanie, his torn up jeans, and… that flannel. The brown one.
She shimmied out and carefully sat next to him on the roof, knees pulled up like his was, “Luke, is something wrong?”
“No. Just get back inside,” he urged, shooing her away. And when she didn’t budge, his tone grew a tad bit more authoritative, “Julie, I mean it. Go to bed.”
“I’ll go when you tell me why you’re out here,” She may be tired, but two could play this stubborn game. And as if she was going to bed without figuring out what’s bothering Luke.
His shoulders rose and sunk, “To think. For some privacy,”
It came out as more of a question, as if he wasn’t entirely committed to that story. At Julie’s judgemental silence, he continued spinning.
“Not sure if you know this, but Alex and Reggie?” he leaned in, hands cupping his mouth, “They can be a bit much.” he stage-whispered teasingly.
She raised an eyebrow, “Alex and Reggie?”
“They’re, like, so,so loud. Real annoying. Very hyper,” he said, “Like I tell them ‘Boys, keep it down’, ya know?”
“Uh-huh,”
She wondered if he legitimately thought this was working on her. And Julie thought she was terrible when put on the spot.
“You have the power to poof literally anywhere and everywhere, yet you choose my roof?”
Seriously, out of all the places to get privacy, Luke thought being a couple feet away from her window was enough seclusion.
Again, he shrugged, emoting a  ‘don’t know what to tell ya’, which only irritated Julie even more.
She scooted over, getting into his space, but the ghost wasn’t allowing it, bringing up his arms to keep her at bay, and maybe to move her in the direction of the window.
“Luke, enough with the games just tell me what’s going on-” she reached for him and ended up grazing his ever-jerking shoulder. Her hand landed on something behind him.
It wasn’t a shingle or a leaf. Whatever it was, her finding it made Luke’s eyes widen and had him stuttering out pleas to leave it alone.
With cat-like reflexes she wasn’t aware she had at this hour, Julie grabbed it before he could swipe it away.
Under the moonlight, she inspected the item in her hands, confused.
“Salt?” It was the same can of salt that Carlos had tried to use on the boys, supposedly trying to ‘burn their souls out’, “Why do you have this?”
Luke chuckled nervously, “Oh that? Well that’s just… that’s because...” he faltered, “Because…”
He sighed dejectedly.
“Uh, you mind waiting a couple minutes? While I come up with an excuse?” he tried, his usual charm doing nothing for Julie at the moment.
She stared at him, hard and unwavering. “I don’t like it when you lie to me, Luke.”
The ghost deflated. His features tightened, almost pained.
“I never want- argh-” he growled, pounding at the surface before cradling his head, frustrated, “Look, I never wanted to lie to you.”
“Then why do you do it?” her voice warbled as she pressed. He still did this? After all they had been through together? It hurt her to think about, somewhat insulting.
But of course there must be a reason. A good one because whatever he was hiding, it was clearly weighing heavy on him. Much like when he had visited his parents. And when he was suffering from the stamps…
“Something happened,” she surmised.
Luke didn’t want to admit it, she sensed that. But she could sense his resolve breaking, the more she looked at him, looked into his stormy hazel eyes.
Julie inched near him and the moment her hand came up to rest on his shoulder, his whole body shuddered, his breathing becoming less controlled- God, he was falling apart, as if he had spent so long bottled up, the pressure only escaping out now.
He kept shaking his head, refusing to let it happen, but Julie’s hand moved to his other shoulder, pulling herself towards him, her left side locking into his right. He practically melted, and with unplanned synchronicity, their heads rested against each others’.
They sat there, the quietest they had ever been with each other, but the moment screaming something that Julie had yet to decipher.
She thought she could speak ‘Luke’ by now. No two people could engage in something as personal as songwriting without picking up a thing or two on how the other person thinks, feels...
A sort of jitteriness existed in him and all Julie knew was that she just needed to quell it, to calm him down. Her fingers traced patterns into his shoulder, dancing en pointe to the rhythm of her breathing, and soon Luke’s. Slow and steady.  
“The night of the Orpheum,” he finally said, “after you left. We were gonna meet you there, I swear we were. But then…”
“Caleb?” she dared to speak his name out loud.
With the way Luke’s form tensed under her arm, she regretted it.  
He swallowed hard, withdrawing his head from its comfortable position against hers so he could look at her properly.
“He was here, Julie,” he gritted out.
Her stomach dropped.
Caleb had been here. At her house.
Logically, it was to be expected. He was a ghost, like the boys, able to go anywhere and everywhere. It made sense to come here to get them.
But the fact that he could…The fact that he had...
This man, who could so easily inflict pain, who had no qualms in threatening non-existence to three teenage boys, all because they wouldn’t do what he wanted, had been in her home.
The thought rattled her, and she was almost close to losing her regular breathing pattern. Sensing this, Luke’s hand shot out and coated hers, quick to soothe with guilty fingers.
None of them ever told her this. Of how they ended up at the club before the Orpheum. They must have wanted to shield her from the distress, taking it upon themselves the burden of worrying. Worrying when he would come back. If he ever came back.
“Look, Caleb’s this all powerful ghost. The things he’s capable of,” he shut his eyes, breathing deeply, “I don’t like knowing that he knows where you-”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish, voice cracking. Instead,  his hand reached for the can of salt, stealing it back.
Julie noticed it. In the way he held the can, that he didn’t need to open his eyes to grab it; it was instinct. If his palm had been large enough, he could encapsulate the whole thing. He couldn’t be gripping it any tighter.
“But Luke…” she tried to remind him gently.
“I know this doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t burn souls or whatever,” he slammed it down on the roof, “But it’s better than nothing.”
Julie bit her lip, not wanting to ask, dreading the answer.
“Have you been up here? Every night since?”
Luke hesitated.
Oh.
“I don’t spy on you or anything. I’m not a creep or-” he tried, “I just wanna make sure. Make sure you’re alright.”
Julie was at a loss for words.
She didn’t know what to feel. The gesture would have warmed her heart if the visual that presented itself wasn’t so utterly devastating.
The Orpheum performance had been months ago.
That meant many nights of Luke keeping vigil on her roof, outside her room, clutching onto that can of salt like a lifeline, always on edge. Never sleeping, just… sitting there in silence. Anticipating for some attack.
That could drive any person mad.
He didn’t tell the boys either. She knew that. Otherwise they would be up here with him, all armed with their own cans of salt.
Luke bore the burden of worrying.
And he did it alone.
Julie cursed herself for not picking up on it sooner, but there was never any residue of the anxious nights. The electric smile at its full wattage always greeted her when she woke up and visited the studio first thing before leaving for school.
But she should have noticed. Noticed in the way Luke’s gaze seemed to linger on her for a beat too long when he thought she wasn’t looking. In the way he embraced her, squeezing her tight, reluctant to let her go even so she could go to school.
She had always thought it was him relishing in the ability to touch her, never taking it for granted after months of never thinking such a thing was possible.
Finding out why- it hurt. It hurt knowing how much Luke was hurting and he didn’t let it slip once.
All to protect her.
“You don’t have to keep watch, Luke...” she didn’t want to put him through that anymore. Her peace of mind should never be at the expense of Luke’s. She refused.
He shook his head, “No, I do. Because if anything happened to you, I wouldn’t- I couldn’t-”
“Hey. I should be the one who’s worried. You guys almost…” she stopped, not wanting to dwell...
“Look. you’re who he wants. Not me. I should be the one to be,” she eyed the can of salt “to be standing guard outside the studio, protecting you.”
“We’d never want for you to put yourself in danger. Not for us. No way,”
“Well that’s tough because there’s no way I’m gonna let him take you away from me again,” she cried, desperate.
That gave Luke pause and she realized her mistake.
She had meant to say ‘you guys’.
But also at the same time, she didn’t.  
The moment of vulnerability made her want to run and hide, but it was already too late. The damage was done. Luke blinked at her, stunned and sad.
His hand on top of hers shifted, curling around until he was holding it, thumb grazing her knuckles,  “I’m not going anywhere, Julie,” he promised, “We’re not.” he corrected for her.
“Well, neither am I,”
It should feel like a lie. What both of them said.
Nothing about their situation was fixed. A promise from a ghost to Lifer and vice versa shouldn’t mean anything. Not when he could leave, cross over to the great light at any time. Not when she could grow old and leave him behind along with the memories of her teen years.
Their interesting little relationship was already doomed. No Caleb required.
But she meant it. And that felt like enough.
Luke meant it. And it was.  
She wished she could enjoy this.
Another agonizing silence flowed between them, and soon Luke’s hand left, the echo of his touch chilled by the night. She pocketed both of her hands in her sweatpants.
“How did you break free?” she asked, “You were at the club, right? How were you able to get out?”
Luke smiled, “You called. And we came. Duh.”
She sang. Somehow her singing had summoned them, had brought her boys back to her. It had always been that way sorta. There was this feeling she had ever since she played their demo, that there was something tethering them together.
They always knew where to find her. And when.
At first, it annoyed her. Like, who wanted three new responsibilities?
But now it gave her comfort.
She needed to voice this to Luke.
“You can’t be sitting here every night. It doesn’t help anyone for you to be on edge all the time,”
He opened his mouth to interject, but she kept going.
“I know. I know you can’t just turn off all your worrying. It’s scary not knowing what’s gonna happen,” She sneaked one last squeeze to his hand, “But If anything does happen, you’ll know. And you’ll be here” she snapped her fingers, “just like that.”
“But-”
“For me. Please,” she had to say, desperate.
And she watched as any further arguments died on his lips. She was lucky that it took this time.
She brushed away his bangs before cupping his face. His eyes fluttered closed at the contact. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”
That seemed to seal the deal.
“Ok. For you,” he nodded. Then he carefully guided her hand off and he cocked his head towards the open window, “You seriously need to sleep though.”  
It was her turn to nod, “I will.”
And with that, they both stood, with Luke guiding her back inside, ensuring she didn’t slip and fall off the roof. Once safe and away from the cold, she hung back, elbows perched on the window sill. Luke did the same from the outside.
“Goodnight, Julie,” he whispered.  
She smiled, a first for tonight.
“Goodnight, Luke,”
The ghost returned it, and it reached his eyes this time. He moved to leave but he froze. Pulling out the can, he opened the spout and began lining the entirety of window sill with a small stream of salt.
“Here,” he remarked upon finishing, “Just in case.”
Julie didn’t have the heart to correct him. Him standing guard may be for her benefit, but the can of salt was definitely for his.
“Thanks,” she said instead, brushing stray particles to fill any gaps in her protective barrier.
She watched him poof away before closing the window and crawling into bed and succumbing to sleep.  
********
Julie hadn’t seen Luke on her roof since.
It had been weeks and there was a definite improvement in the way Luke carried himself from then on out. It was miniscule, of course, but Julie could see it in his eyes that he had been receiving the equivalent of a well-needed slumber.
That didn’t stop him from keeping an eye on her from time to time. Though it never reached ‘stationing on the roof’ status. The boy had found a loophole and she found herself anticipating surprise visits by her locker.
She never did say anything about school.
And everything was fine.
Until it wasn’t.
Julie wasn’t sure why it took so long for the fear that Caleb’s visit had instilled to rear its ugly head.
But it did.
And in the form of nightmares no less.
It was the night of the Oprheum all over again, except when she launched herself at Luke, she merely passed through. No magical hug to save them, she was forced to watch as those jolts, those painful jolts, slowly killed them.
She remembered screaming and crying, the looks on the boys' faces when their light had been snuffed out, when they were nothing more than shimmering particles that faded away into nothing, it was something she never ever wanted to see again.
Her body jerked awake, her body sweating and she was startled to find the screams and cries had followed her- her face damp and her throat coarse. Bringing her knees to her chin, the horror of what she had witnessed was still fresh in her mind, and she was sobbing.
In the midst of all this, she barely registered the tugging feeling, somewhere deep inside her, somewhere she couldn’t really place.
Then suddenly, a telltale sound of a ghost poofing in diminished her cries.
“Julie. Julie!” she heard Luke, frantic. His form, blurred by her tears, moved about the room until he was sitting at the foot of her bed. “A-Are you okay? I felt it, I felt you calling-”
She wiped her face with her sweater sleeve, readjusting to reality, “I’m- I’m fine. It’s just-” she sniffled, “I had a nightmare.”
Once Luke’s face came in view, the nightmare image of his disappearing out of existence overwhelmed her again and some wayward tears flowed against her better judgement.
“Hey,” he moved and was at her side immediately, drawing her to him, “Sh. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
She buried her face into his chest just to make sure. Because forget her. He was okay. Caleb didn’t take him away from her. He was still here.
The tears she was shedding were ones of pure relief.
It had been awful. For a second, she was powerless. She had felt that way when she lost her mom, her sickness taking hold. She couldn’t stop it from taking her mom, and that left her feeling so hollow.
Julie wouldn’t know what to do if it happened again. If it happened to her boys.
She didn’t know how long Luke held her, wiping her cheeks dry with his thumbs and keeping her hair from clinging to her forehead. But somehow during all this, they both had reclined on her bed, the worst of it having passed.
Even when she had stopped crying, his arms still encased her.
“What can I do?” he asked, unsure, “Tell me. What can I do?”
“Just…” her fists curled around his shirt, her breathing steadying and eyes pleading, “Can you stay here? With me?”
He nodded,resolute, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Julie sighed and she was struck with that promise they made weeks ago. And she allowed herself to relax into him.
It should scare her. How much she trusted him. To be there. There weren't any guarantees in life. Not for her. Especially not for him.
But she called.
And he came.
A constant.
And as much as she didn’t want him to worry about her, she knew that she wouldn’t easily be able to not worry about him.  
And encased in arms that would phase through others, and even with the threat of Caleb still hanging over their heads, Julie never felt more safe.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not in this house. Not in this time of 2020.
But he was.
And she slept peacefully from then on.  
tagging @blush-and-books and @lydias--stiles (I will sleep now)
162 notes · View notes
moonlightchildz · 4 years
Text
The art of broken love; K.T
Tumblr media
writer: moonlightchildz
date published: 03/07/2020
pairings: taehyung x reader
warnings: smut: creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, oral f. receiving, uhh does dirty talk count??, use of drug (weed), & angst
description: you were utterly and irrevocably in love with kim taehyung. problem was that he was your best friend’s ex.
word count: 21.2k (whoops)
His lips are roaming the crook of your neck, tongue sweeping your skin. His hands are placed on the wall that you’re backed into, eyes watching you as you begin to lose yourself into his touch. You’re mewling at just the sensation of his mouth on your skin, hands beginning to tangle themselves into his long, wavy hair. His wet kisses start to trail up your neck, kissing the side of your mouth as you giggle, eyes opening to finally see him.
“Taehyung,” you pull him closer, noses nudging against each other’s. He hasn’t kissed you yet and you’re becoming a tad bit crazier as each second passes since you need to kiss him at this point.
“I love you,” he whispers it out against your mouth, fingers encasing your mouth to keep you close to him. Your eyes widen, fingers becoming numb. “I love you.”
And before you could utter those same words out to him, you woke up.
“Holy fuck,” you panted out heavily, hands trembling as you tried to get yourself together. You glanced around your bedroom, noting that it’s past three am and you feel those familiar tears paint your face once again.
You did not just have a wet dream of fucking your best friend’s ex.
                                                            ——
“What’s wrong with you this morning?”
Hyejin eyed you skeptically, innspecting your bodry from head to toe.
“I couldn’t sleep very well last night,” you partially admitted to your best friend. There was no way in hell you were going to tell your best friend you had a dream of being fucked thoroughly by her ex-boyfriend. Oh and let’s not forget the part where he told you he loved you.
“Yeah it looks like you had one fucked up night,” she mused out and you just ignored her for her sake. Instead you dragged your way to the fridge, trying to find something edible to have at four in the morning. Once you finally found your culprit, Frosted Flakes, you decided you needed some bananas in it as well. 
“Why are you still up?” You asked with a mouthful of cereal. Your best friend just kept analyzing you since you knew you probably looked quite sad and vulnerable right now in her eyes.
She immediately grabbed herself a bowl and joined you. “Joon left an hour ago and I just took a shower. I have today off so no worries.”
Regardless if she didn’t have today off, she still would be staying up until her shift started. She was that insanely chaotic.
“Anyway, Joon is coming over so—“
You were already groaning. Whenever Namjoon came over that meant you either slept with your headphones plugged in with all of the high volume on, or spending the night somewhere else that wouldn’t require you to throw yourself out your bedroom window. Namjoon and Hyejin were just so unnecessarily loud when fucking, it was irritating and ruining your much adored sleeping hours. Not to mention that Namjoon was also one of your best friends. In fact, you and that absolute clumsy moron were practically sibling soulmates. So it was definitely weird seeing both of your worlds just collide into one.
“I’m not in the mood to spend the night somewhere else.”
“Actually he’ll be spending the weekend next week so,” she paused, taking your reaction in. You didn’t know what kind of expression she saw on your face, but she hastily began to launch into an apologetic but semi aggressive rant. “Look, his water is gonna be out for the weekend cause he’s reconstructing his bathroom. He was already going to stay at this expensive ass hotel, but I’m not letting him when he can crash here with me.  Also, y/n, he’s your best friend.”
You never had a problem with your best friend’s lovers that is until she started dating the ever so artistically, beautifully, and charismatic man named Kim Taehyung, but that’s another story to tell. Namjoon was a great guy. He was sweet, poetic, and everything a man should be but he was also careless, clumsy, and a complete nimrod. Yeah he was your best friend, but it just weird it you out that these two suddenly started dating a year ago. You remember passing out with Namjoon on your bed after your little drinking session of cheap vodka had escalated. Namjoon was all wrapped up in your covers and you were thrown on him, mouth wide open with drool collecting on our pillow. Hyejin had stormed in and immediately raged. If you could color the way her face looked, it would be more along the lines of an angry, magenta red.
She was screaming ‘how could you do this to me?’ and ‘you know what I’ve been through’ but poor Namjoon was still knocked out, snoring his problems away. She tried coming at you and you just ran away screaming at her to fuck off. By the time she got you, Namjoon was widely awake and ripping her off from you, yelling at her to get away from you. The misunderstanding was cleared up, but you never really forgave her for thinking that you could ever betray her like that. Even when she was with Taehyung, you never once tried to get with him. Your friendship with him was just that, a heartbreaking and one side love that had turned into a beautiful friendship.
And then he left without a trace.
 Snapping out of your thoughts, you immediately launched into your list of do’s and don’ts. “He’s not touching my food, he has to pick up after himself, whatever the hell he breaks he’s paying for or I will drive my foot up his ass so far you’re going to be kissing it goodnight instead, okay?” You smiled rather sweetly at her, but she knew you meant business.
Hyejin was already nodding, launching off her chair to throw her arms around your neck in such excitement. Getting to agree to bring boyfriends over was a cautious decision ever since her last relationship. She was more secretive, more reserved, and wouldn’t overshare anymore. That still didn’t change the fact that you both loved each other so much despite everything. However, Namjoon was your best friend first, so any stupid ideas that she got were immediately shot down by Namjoon and you. Which brings you back to this predicament.
“Thank you, thank you, and thank you!” She squealed in your ear and as much as you loved her, having her scream in your ear at nearing five in the morning wasn’t something you wanted to endure anymore.
“Uh huh,” you sighed and gently pried her off you. With that, you finished your bowl, threw it inside the sink, and bid her a goodnight before you dragged yourself back to bed. You figured tomorrow was going to be a long day at work.
And it was.
 It was filled with reports, your dickhead of a boss assigning you the worse people to work on a proposal that was due next week, and honestly you couldn’t believe you chose this field instead of something you would genuinely like to do. Society had its way of bending you over and fucking you over completely. Thinking about that, you then realized you hadn’t actually fucked anyone in over a year again. It reminded you just how lonely and saddened life had become for you. It only reminded you of him and how much you missed him wholeheartedly. It was honestly pathetic. Stop, you told yourself. Just stop it already.
 If live was a canvas, everything would be shaded in with the grayest and darkest of colors. Splattered paint would angrily cover it, and to soothe the pain it would be with gentle strokes of the softest of white. There were moments in life that you knew the soft white color would turn into a variety of others, it’s just the timing wasn’t right now. And as you wandered aimlessly around the museum, you started noticing your surroundings once you turned the corner and saw a more colorful perspective of art being displayed on the wall. Every single painting looked the same in a sense, but you knew in your eyes that it wasn’t.
 Each stroke, each color, each scheme represented something that the artist itself was trying to portray to themselves, or anyone feeling the same as them. It differed from love, anger, fervor passion, and distinguishable sadness that welcomed you so warmly. It wasn’t until you reached the last painting, when you slowly came to a stop. Everything about it screamed at you, demanding your utmost attention. Because even as the brightest of colors covered the canvas, the picture itself contrasted it. There was two figures. You presumed it was a male and female. One was in the middle shinning as brightly as they can, and the other remained in the shadows. But as you inspected it closer, you realized that it hid in the shadows of her colors, watching her. A hand was spread out and you could see on the palm of his hand was split with her colors, and the other with what seemed to be his.
It was breathtakingly beautiful. And it reminded you of someone so much that you felt something spill from your cheeks. Your hand was trembling as you tried to stop the drops that were falling and you claimed it was just raining. It was.
 It was severely raining inside your soul.
 And then your eyes glanced over at the artist’s name: Silly by Vante
You blinked once, then twice, and then finally you had to lean against the wall to sustain yourself properly. There was no way in hell this could be happening to you right now. There was no way in hell that life could be this cruel to you in this instant. But the shaking in your fingers, the quivering in your lips, and the sobs that were lodged in your throat begged to differ. All you wanted was a distraction, not a wakening alarm. So before you lost your shit, you tried gathering the last remaining bits and pieces of yourself before you lost those too since it had taken ages to collect those when he had left.
You felt a presence behind you and you just wanted to get out of there and breathe. Time felt as if it was slowing down, the ticking began to commence.
A painting by him? Here? Here?
“y/n?”
Your bags slipped from your fingertips. 
You didn’t turn around.
By the sound of just their voice you already knew who it was and honestly you felt your heart and mind were just playing tricks on you. Your mind knew what your heart needed and it was simply giving it to you in a sense of a vague memory of him. You were going batshit crazy.
“I know it’s you,” he spoke up after a moment and that confirmed it.
He was actually here. He was actually here.
You hadn’t seen him, or even spoken to him after your best friend broke up with him. He had vanished out of your life the second they were done and even though you told yourself several of times that he wasn’t yours to even yearn for, your heart didn’t give a fuck. In the wake of an ending relationship, a friendship had blossomed between you and him. So in a way it was like a break up to you too. You had lost someone special in your life and you didn’t even get to say goodbye. You didn’t get to say goodbye to him, or your pending feelings for him.
No matter how hard you tried to sustain yourself, you didn’t want to turn around. Because once you turned, you’d have to face reality and you weren’t exactly prepared for that in that instant. Your eyes were set on the wall, tears prickling. Don’t cry you weak little bitch. Suck it up and breathe. It was the beating of your heart and the jitters that reminded you that you were indeed alive and still breathing despite everything. And it was screaming, ‘he’s back’ with such intensity. With a deep breath, you slowly turned around.
He was carrying shopping bags in both hands. His hair was matted up as usual, but there was now a gleam in his eyes like never before. You noticed his hair had gotten longer, strands of dark brown hair covered his eyes. His beige cotton sweater complimented his skin so well and fit so loosely on him. Not to mention those brown plaid pajama pants that he would wear every day because he claimed ‘it’s fashionable these days’ and ‘look! It matches everything I wear’. But despite his physical exterior changing, the way his eyes shone immediately whispered to your aching heart that he hadn’t.
Taehyung. My Taehyung.
Out of all the days he could show up, it just happened to be that same day he had surprised you in your dreams. It happened to be the day you had wandered inside the museum you had met him in two years ago.
 “Beautiful isn’t it?”
 You were utterly speechless. “I’ve always loved the concept of the sun, moon, and the stars. It’s sort of a love triangle between them. You know the story of how the sun died every night just to let her breathe? Well, the stars make the essence of the sky. It unifies them, ties them together and makes them even more beautiful. But people think of stars separately. They don’t see the stars with the sun and the moon even though they should be.”
 The stranger turned to look at you. “Have you ever considered that the stars alone don’t need the sun and the moon? They are their own separate entity. They shine brightly with, or without them.”
 “They are uniquely beautiful. And the whole romance between the sun and the moon is bittersweet since yeah they were once together in a sense, but they don’t complement each other. The stars do.”
   You had missed him so dearly and now he was just a few feet away from you, looking toned and practically glowing. In that second, you felt your body go numb and haywire simultaneously. All of these thoughts whirled inside your mind as your body stay put in its place because he was right there. All you wanted to do was cry and be welcomed back into his arms. Your heart yearned for it as all of the memories that you created with him overwhelmed you once again.
  It was summer again.
You were laying on his lap, babbling away some nonsense since you were drunk. Taehyung on the other hand was just amusingly watching you, responding back to you and even questioning you more. Your best friend had already fallen asleep on his bed, leaving you both alone in the dark as you both softly whispered to each other. Empty glasses of wine stood on the outdoor table along with a jar of weed, and there was your bong sitting beside it.
“You’re so cute,” he bopped your nose and you rolled your eyes. You tried swatting his hand away but instead he just pinched the bridge of your nose softly.
“If I’m so cute, then why am I still single,” you whined out and Taehyung just softly chuckled. “You know, whenever I see you and Hyejin I get a little sad.”
“I’m sorry.” He immediately responded, but you hadn’t caught that.
“But it’s because I’m reminded that I don’t have anyone to kiss, or hug, or even share something with. I mean for fucks sake, I haven’t fucked anyone since—” you counted your fingers and whined some more upon realizing just how long you’ve been dry. “Oh my god it’s been a year.”
Taehyung quirked an eyebrow. “I find that very hard to believe.”
“Me too.” You agreed and Taehyung remained silent. Curious upon his silence, you glanced up to see him intently gazing down at you. It was as if he was caught in his own thoughts. His finger delicately traced the underside of your chin rather gently and as you both continued to speak in hush whispers to each other, you wondered what went on that pretty head of his when it came to you. Deep in your heart you knew the reason why you hadn’t let another person touch you intimately. They just weren’t him.
  The way you both greeted each other had become a routine even.
“Hey there, silly.” He greeted you quite enthusiastically, arm slinging over your shoulders. He pulled you towards his side and you made yourself comfortable, a smile already laced on your lips.
“Hey there you twat,” you happily chirped out but Taehyung had another set of plans since he teasingly ruffled your hair and you whined, hitting his chest rather harshly. 
“Oh no, no!” He was quick in stopping the both of you. From behind, you could feel his warm hands slide over your sides before wrapping his arms around you, spinning you around as you began laughing and telling him to stop.
 The feeling of his hands on your skin kept you wide awake for nights.
   “What are we doing tonight by the way?”
You glanced over at Taehyung who was already awaiting your answer. The both of you were on the couch side by side. There was a respective amount of distance between the two of you in the beginning, but then a fighting footsie battle had initiated and you were leaning on his shoulder now, watching him play on your Playstation 4.
“You sir,” you tapped his nose to try and gain his attention. “Have a date with Hyejin tonight, remember?”
He squinted, tilted his head back, and made a motion of opening his mouth to bite your finger rather than answering. You just shoved him back by the push of your hand on his forehead. It was after a couple of minutes later that he decided to say, “That doesn’t mean we can meet later? I wanna show you my new playstation.” He then pouted as you started shaking your head.
“Can’t. She told me she had a special surprise for you so,” you smiled, though it didn’t exactly meet your eyes this time. “I’ll be staying at Namjoon’s tonight.”
“Oh,” His movements on the controller suddenly slowed down, attention span lost. “Namjoon? You mean that dorky professor who everyone has a crush on?”
“You mean the dweeb that is my best friend?” you corrected him, finding it amusing that everyone around you did in fact have a crush on Namjoon. “Yeah.”
“Right.” He drawled out, clearly not buying it. 
“Anyways, I have to get ready for work soooo,” You ruffled his hair and quickly ran past him because you knew he would follow you and tickle you endlessly. From behind your closed door, you heard him whine in return.
“MY HAIR.”
“Have fun on your date!” You shouted instead, softly giggling to yourself like a school girl.
“I’ll try.” He quipped and you were left there wondering if he meant it, or if he was genuinely playing around.
 And then, there was that one night that changed everything around you.
Hyejin had been pestering you about your love life, trying to interrogate you as to why you were always so single and lonely. It did aggravate you at times. It felt as if she was pouring salt and lime all over your wound, but there was one night where she had set up a blind date with someone who you were definitely not interested in knowing at all. She wanted you to tag along to her and Taehyung’s date. You obviously declined, but it’s not like she ever listened in the first place.
“I don’t wanna go,” you told her, but she was not having it.
“I worked hard for this night and you Miss are not going to ruin it.”
“Dude, just go without me. I’m sure you rather not spend time alone with Tae.”
She stopped swirling the batter she was keen on making for pancakes. Something about the way she glanced over you, as if something was at the tip of her tongue should have raised concerned. Slowly, she prompted, “Tae?”
You on the other hand were carelessly flipping over your notebook, trying to review your notes for exam season that was quickly approaching. “Your boyfriend?” you told her, pouting once you realized your head was hurting beyond belief.
“I never knew you and him were that close,” she noted, eyebrows furrowing a bit.
“Well, that’s what happens when you’re a third wheel in your best friend’s relationship,” you carelessly joked, but she didn’t laugh. She just stayed silent.
You figured it was the nerves since she always tended to get very easily irritated whenever something important was coming up. Her anniversary with Taehyung was just weeks away and she was racking her brain for ideas. And since you were her best friend, you obviously had to hear it and even voice your opinions. It was definitely some cruel and twisted joke. However, after that day she never spoke to you about Taehyung anymore.
Then the date night came.
“Tae is here,” you notified Hyejin once you received his text to open the door.  She was prancing around the room, trying to make sure she looked like perfection when in reality she already was. Your best friend was honestly beautiful inside and out, no wonder Taehyung was so in love with her.
You were about to step out to let Taehyung in to let her continue getting ready when Hyejin spread out her arm, stopping you from walking out of your room. You blinked twice, trying to understand what was happening.
“My boyfriend is here so I go first,” she tried joking, passing past you before you could walk out into the living room. You simply stepped aside and signaled her to walk before you. You figured it was just the nerves.
“You look gorgeous,” you overheard Taehyung tell Hyejin. She giggled quite loudly and you glanced over your phone, definitely not having it tonight. Maybe you could pretend you were sick?
“Where’s y/n?” Taehyung suddenly asked, his deep voice making its way into your heart.
At the sound of your name slipping past his lips, your nerves simmered down. You could do it. It was just one night that you had to endure. Everything would be okay. Without a much glance at yourself, you began walking into the living room to accompany them. You were texting Wheein and Yongsun, trying to find their encouragement words as motivation for tonight.
“Wow,” was what made you look up from your phone as soon as you stepped foot inside the living room. Wow indeed. Taehyung was so insanely handsome in rendered you speechless. His short hair had been permed like he had told you he would do it and you wondered how it would feel like against your fingers. He wore a light grey long overcoat that covered the creamy-white dress shirt that molded to his body like second skin. His dress pants made his ass stand out and you noted the rings that decorated his hand so prettily. His pretty dark brown eyes was all that you could think of in that moment.
“We’re matching,” Taehyung grinned, eyes firmly set on your eyes now.
You glanced down at yourself and laughed, because yes, you both were matching. A creamy white champagne high low dress complimented your body. The straps hung loose on your arms where you decided to put a bracelet and to compliment it you wore rings on your fingers. The jacket that you had on was a light grey color and your curly hair had been pinned up by the sides.
Taehyung’s grin was endless that it made your heart flutter.
“You look really beautiful,” he said and you wondered if the smile you instantly let on your face screamed the evident feelings you had for him.
“She would have looked better in another dress.” Hyejin spoke up, eyes raking your body from head to toe. “Also those heels are old and worn out. You wanna wear some of mine instead?  You know the ones that Taehyung gave to me?”
“No,” you shook your head, still smiling. “I wouldn’t want them to get dirty, or worse trip and break them.”
Taehyung’s grin slowly morphed into a disappointed frown. He glanced over at his girlfriend, eyebrow quirked. In return you glanced her way and then back at Taehyung who seemed to be getting irritated as each minute passed.
“So, are we just gonna stare at each other, or can we leave already? Your date is already waiting for you over there, y/n.” She said, eagerly signaling you to walk out before them.
Taehyung began coughing, hands turning an awful white from how hard he was curling his fist. And Hyejin immediately started spluttering out, “Babe, are you okay? Would a kiss make it better?”
And that was your cue for you to let them be. You grabbed Taehyung’s keys from the couch and then you simply told them you would wait in the car, leaving them inside. They took quite a while to come down, but once they joined you inside you noticed there was a certain tension between them, and it was starting to suffocate you.
“Oh, fuck I forgot my purse in my apartment. y/n, go get it.”
“No,” you flatly responded. “You go get it. It’s cold and I’m being dragged out to this, remember?”
“Boo,” she pouted and then sighed heavily. “I guess we’re not going anywhere then.”
“Hyejin,” Taehyung suddenly spoke out, his patience wearing thin. “Are you good? Why are you acting so bratty lately? If y/n doesn’t wanna go then—”
“Leave her out of this,” she gritted out, surprising you momentarily. “She is fine. I’m the one who is not. I’m fucking cold, you know, your girlfriend? So can you go get my purse and my jacket?”
Taehyung inhaled deeply, face remaining stoic before he calmly exited out of the car. She watched him slowly walk back up the stairs and you remained silent for a bit, trying to figure it out how to approach your best friend without pissing her off furthermore.
“Hyejin, what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine, y/n.” She snapped and you bit down on your lip, restraining yourself from provoking her. The last thing you needed was a fight between the two of you. He came back after ten minutes and once he started driving, you sighed. Hyejin started talking to him then, animatedly telling him how the guy was a perfect for you and she couldn’t wait for you to meet him. She even joked about getting rid of you finally.
“Now Taehyung will be able to finally spend the night again.”
Except her plans backfired for that night since your blind date didn’t have the nerve to cancel last minute. Though that didn’t hurt you as much as watching them together in front of you. Hyejin clung on to Taehyung, seductively muttering nonsense into his ear but his eyes were set on you. Yeah having to endure them together was something you had to put up with since that was your best friend, but just the realization that he’ll never be yours to love wholeheartedly did the trick that night.
You remember excusing yourself and rushing into the bathroom stall where your tears were hidden from everyone in that moment. You clung on to your dress, eyes blurry as you felt your heart break further more. Your back was against the stall and you were huddled into your own bitter demise because why? Out of everyone in this goddamn world did you have to fall for someone who belonged to someone else? 
“Get yourself together, bitch.” You sniffled out, trembling hands beginning to wipe away your tears. “You’re no pussy, hoe.” 
Once you repeatedly told yourself that mantra, you gathered your shit together temporarily. You hastily splashed water on your face, trying to erase evidence of your downfall since you couldn’t handle looking at yourself anymore. After a couple of minutes of just resting your forearms on the sink, head between your arms, you reminded yourself that you could just go home. You would excuse yourself from their date, leave in an Uber, and go to Namjoon’s since you didn’t want to handle Hyejin. Not whenever you were so close to breaking.
The moment you stepped foot outside though, you spotted Taehyung pacing back and forth, talking to himself. He was running his fingers through his hair, tugging at it insistently.
“Tae?”
He stopped at the sound of your voice, hands falling to his sides as he turned to face you.
“Hey there silly,” he softly spoke upon seeing you. He was quick to approach you and you allowed him to pull you close into his arms, inhaling his sweet scent. You allowed yourself the comfort as his hands caressed your back. “I’m sorry she put you up to this. I told her you weren’t comfortable.”
You allowed yourself to curl up further into his embrace, hands sliding underneath his arms, digging into his shoulder blades. You felt as if you were crumbling and he was here collecting your pieces, helping you remain intact for a little longer.
“It’s okay, I’m just tired really.” You croaked out, genuinely feeling drained in that moment. “I’m just tired of constantly having to fight myself for something that is out of my control.”
“We’re leaving okay? I’m going to take you to that stupid noodle place you love so much and play that dumb board game that you’ve been wanting us to play. I think we have some left over face masks, too. And of course your favorite thing in the world?”
“Weed?” you hopefully asked and Taehyung just laughed.
“On a serious note,” he began murmuring it out, “I’m sorry you had to deal with that unsympathetic asshole, but in reality I’m sorry for him. He missed out on an amazing woman who lights up her surroundings with just a glance of her eyes.”
“You’re too kind sometimes, Kim Taehyung,” you softly told him. Please stop.
He slowly bent down, eyes set on you now. His hands framed your face so tenderly and you swore fate was cruel to you. “I’m being 100 percent honest with you right now. You are such an amazing person and I—”
He suddenly halted. You could feel the way his hands curled around your face, fingertips slowly tracing your skin. The way he was gazing at you and tenderly touching you made your heart flutter. It made forgetting him ridiculously harder than it already was.
“If I were an artist, I wouldn’t hesitate to make as many portraits as it takes to make you realize just how beautiful you are.”
“But you are an artist,” you immediately interject, not having it. Taehyung was an incredible artist, but he always claimed he was the contrary. He didn’t really see the talent that he possessed, but in your eyes he was the next Van Gogh. After all, he had painted your world in a variety of colors.
He laughed softly to himself, and instead of saying more, he simply pulled you back into his arms. The moment you felt his lips trace your head something strange had happened. As he held you in his embrace, your fingers curled into his shirt, the desire to kiss him becoming incredibly stronger than remembering that he wasn’t yours. But as he reassured you with the sweetest of words, you realized you were utterly and irrevocably in love with Kim Taehyung.
 It was a few weeks later after the date night when Taehyung had called you at exactly seven in the afternoon. You weren’t alone in the apartment since Hyejin was preparing herself for the ‘happiest night of her life’ as she claimed. She was bragging and constantly telling you about it to the point where your heart and mind connected to tuning her out whenever she did. Instead, your thoughts rewind it back to that night. That night when you realized just how deeply your feelings for him were coursing through your veins. Ever since then, you hadn’t seen him.
Then as soon as you were tucked inside your covers, heartbroken, and ready for bed, his unexpected call came through. You didn’t even say hello before he was sputtering out, “Can you come over? Please? I-I need, um, it’s an emergency.”
He hung up after that. All kinds of scenarios formed in your mind in that instant. Was he hurt? Did he finally realized he no longer wanted you in his life? Maybe he needed help in picking out his outfit for the perfect night tonight. So with your pjs on, you slid on a hoodie and secretly left without telling your best friend anything. Either way she didn’t notice.
“You actually came,” Taehyung spoke up, sounding weak and even relieved in a sense.
You mustered up a tiny, but genuine closed lip smile. “Of course, dummy.”
“I thought you were ignoring me,” he said, pausing afterwards to see you. His eyes trailed your body from head to toe, a tiny grin replacing the worried frown he had earlier.
“Shut it,” you immediately told him, huffing. Yes, you were wearing mickey mouse pajama pants, and yes Taehyung was grinning widely now.
“This isn’t even about me so—” you stopped talking once you realized just how distraught he really seemed. “Tae, what the hell happened to you?”
His hair was everywhere, dark heavy bags underlined his eyes, and all over his clothes was splattered paint. Without even intending so, you quickly approached him. Your hands were framing his face before you could detain yourself, eyes roaming his features. He had purple, green, pink, gold, and blue paint adorning his handsome face.
“Hey,” with a soft whisper, you demanded, “talk to me.”
He simply responded back with his beautiful, signature, boxy smile. “I rather show you instead.”
Confused, you glanced up at him and he just pulled you closer to him. His hand pressed against the back of your head, hugging you fully now. And you just complied with your hearts desires and inhaled deeply his scent. Your hands tentatively wrapped around his sides, ear placed directly against his beating heart.
“Thank you for coming,” he softly spoke to you and you hummed in peace. “You made me realize what I finally need to do now.”
Of course, after all, you were in love with him. You would do anything in order to retain that beautiful smile of his, even if it meant breaking your own heart in the process. Because the person who was responsible for his happiness, for that smile, and for his heart was someone else.
“Come,” his voice rumbled throughout his chest and you nodded, your heart sighing. He was pulling away from you, slowly, and you found yourself not wanting to let go. You found yourself wishing you didn’t feel this way about your friend, about your confidant, and about your best friend’s boyfriend but the heart wants what it wants.
“Someone missed me,” Taehyung mused out, glancing down at you. His arms immediately went back around your body, wrapping you up so warmly against him in a way that made your heart stammer beyond control.
“As much as I love this,” he chuckled, his deep, honey like voice sounding like a melody in your ears. “I’ve been working on this for weeks and it’s really important.”
“Okay.” You let go of him, reminding yourself where your place should be. You shyly glanced up at him and found him already looking at you. He didn’t say anything else, instead, his fingers tentatively interlocked with yours.
The feeling of his hand sliding and interlacing with your own, only enhanced everything around you. You felt dizzy and lightheaded from just being near him, but now he was holding your hand as he led you through his apartment.
Taehyung unlocked a door that had always been secured. He didn’t even allow Hyejin to see what was in there, much less go into the said room. You slowly followed behind, curious eyes taking in every detail. All around the three walls, paintings were hung. The only light that was being portrayed was by the wall to wall sliding doors. The room was painted with beige colors, and next to the doors you could see pillows and blankets strewn. Alongside stood bottles of water, wine, and his color palette that had been heavily used judging by the colors that were grimy and mixed together.
“Okay but these paintings are beautiful as fuck, holy shit.” You were in absolute awe that you let go of his hand first. “Can I?” you whispered out, unsure if it was okay to taint his pretty art with your touch.
He simply smiled.
So you went around the room, curious eyes taking in every detail because Taehyung had taken seconds, minutes, hours, days, or even weeks out of his life to pour his soul into these canvases and convert them into his own art. You gazed in fascination since he managed to mix every color together, creating these contracting meshes into one. It depicted him so well, and you felt an overwhelming pride upon seeing these because he finally painted.
It was the last painting that made you stop and really take time and depth into analyzing it.
“Do they remind you of something?” He was behind you, probably just a couple of inches away from you since you could feel his warm breath fan the back of your neck.
You tilted your head, trying to decipher what it meant. The painting was eccentric from the start. In the background the colors were shaded in dark monotone colors but in the center of the painting there was a figure that resembled a woman that was outlined with soulful colors. Hues of pinks, blues, yellow, green, and everything in between surrounded the figure that happened to have their eyes closed with a smile. As you sank to your knees to get a closer view, you traced the stars in the background with your fingertips. Something about it reminded you of something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it yet. Stars? The moon and the sun were parallel to each other. The stars were everywhere though, outshining them both in a sense. An overwhelming emotion clouded your senses once seeing the painting as a whole. The woman was painted beautifully.
“It was the first time we met,” he quietly explained and you felt the air in your lungs rapidly leave your body. “At the art exhibit. I remember you telling me about how you’re stupidly obsessed with the concept of stars, the moon, and the sun.”
“Is that...” you swallowed thickly, hysteria bubbling up inside of you. No, no, it couldn’t be what you were thinking.
“Read the back of it,” he softly spoke behind you.  
“I-I,” you started blubbering out, your eyesight momentarily blurring for a second. As your finger traced the stars, you felt the sob lodged in your throat threatening to spill out.
Silly.
“What’s wrong?” Taehyung was quick to pick up on your mannerisms. He seemed concerned upon seeing the tears in your eyes once you turned around to face him.
“You idiot,” you simply muttered out before launching yourself at him. Arms winded around his neck and Taehyung softly chuckled before wrapping his strong arms around you. You inhaled his scent, finding comfort in his arms and just him overall.
“Thank you,” your voice was muffled out by his clothing. “Thank you.”
“It’s yours, if you want it.” He softly spoke out, chin on top of your head. His thumb was rubbing soothing circles on to your exposed skin, humming along to whatever song was on his mind in that moment.
You simply nodded, afraid if you spoke something else would end up happening in that moment. Your quivering lips ghosted over his exposed skin, hot breath fanning against his chest. His movements stopped suddenly, and you could feel him inhale sharply. Your fingers were digging into his sides, tears beginning to stain his shirt now.
“I—” you choked out, not really finding the right words to say to him.  
“Please don’t cry,” he begged you, his hands cupping your cheeks. You could feel his hot breath fan against your lips. His nose nudged against yours and you felt a dizzying spell overwhelm your soul upon being so close. He was tantalizing you without even meaning to. Just by the way his breath ghosted your face, your mind had wiped clean your conscious. He was so close. He was just there. His fingers were tangling into your hair, unspoken words being desperately told with just a flickering of eyes between the two of you.
“You are so undeniably, bewitchingly, ethereally beautiful.” He softly confessed against your mouth. You felt the murmur of his lips against yours and it just enhanced his lovely words into your heart. The pad of his finger softly ghosted over your bottom lip and you didn’t realize how utterly close the both of you were until you felt the erratic beating of his heart. Your fingers wandered up his arms, suddenly stopping once they were around his neck.
“y/n, I—” he breathed out, his lips slowly and just inches away from finally meeting yours. Your eyes were fluttering to a close, almost allowing yourself to finally dive head into what was Kim Taehyung, but just as your heart almost gave up on you, your mind thought of something immediately.
“Hyejin,” you threw out, eyes widening. Hyejin. Images of your best friend flickered in your brain, the red warning flags finally slapping you back to reality. A reality where Kim Taehyung was not yours and will never be yours. His heart belonged to someone else.
“Oh fuck,” he suddenly blurted out as you were pushing him away from you. The both of you instantly fell apart in that moment. Shame quickly took a whole of you now and the mortification and guilt was just eating you away as you tried to avoid Taehyung’s gaze.
“I think it’s time for me to go,” you shakily said, your heart breaking with each word you uttered out.
Taehyung had his eyes screwed shut, his hands hastily tugging at the roots of his hair in what seemed desperation. “I, uh, I actually have to meet up with her.” He said as an afterthought, and then his eyes widened. “Oh fuck, I have to go pick her up in twenty minutes.”
He glanced your way and you simply did not look at him at all. After all, you were just seconds away from kissing him and rendering straight into his arms. Your feelings had begun to control you and that had become incredibly dangerous now. You knew deep in your heart that you needed to get away from him because you were sure the next time you wouldn’t remember Hyejin. But that’s what happens when you’re trapped with the person you’re in love with. Feelings tend to tangle you up, choking you up until you’re forced to breathe because you’re suffocating on the inside from all the kept up emotions.
Despite everything, you were already demanding him, “Taehyung, go get showered and dressed.” You didn’t even spare him a glance as you walked past him. Your hands were trembling, head whirling, and broken pieces leading from Taehyung’s hands to wherever you were heading into now.
“Hey, wait.” He was trailing after you, hand encasing your arm to stop you. He held you back, managing to spin you halfway from the sudden momentum. His eyes were pleading, feet unconsciously nearing you. “Please, look at me. We need to talk abo—”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hold you back like that.” You blurted out, your trembling fingers taking off his hand from your skin. It was too much. You wouldn’t even dare to look him straight in the eye because you knew you were bound to cry and spill everything that your heart was just aching you to at this point.
“What?” he sounded incredulous, eyebrows furrowing as he slowly said the following words, “Don’t you ever apologize for spending time with me. I love being around you.”
Despite everything, you meekly wondered, “Really?”
His fingertips were already marking their way into your skin, comforting you without him meaning to. “So much that you make me forget life altogether.”
It was so messy. You wondered when everything in your life had become such havoc. How everything had spiraled out of control and you no longer were in reign over your emotions. The moment Kim Taehyung pranced into your life, you knew you were bound to be fucked. You didn’t expect to fall so in love with your best friend’s boyfriend. You just didn’t expect such heartbreak in return after this moment.
“Taehyung,” you croaked out, tears slipping past your cheeks. “I—”
“What is it?” He tried nearing you, but with each step he took you backtracked. “Just tell me already. I know you fee—”
“Hyejin,” was all you could muster out. You couldn’t do that to her. No way.
I love you, but you are not mine to love Kim Taehyung. At least, not in this lifetime.
You flung his hand away from you, already walking away from him, muttering out, “I’ll see you around.”  
 That same night you trailed your broken hearted soul back to Namjoon’s penthouse. His keys dangled on your fingers, mocking you with each step you took towards your own demise. He wasn’t there so that made it even worse. Namjoon had been your comfort, best friend, and soulmate since the first time you both met. In fact, your friendship was stronger than yours and Hyejin’s combined. Unfortunately though, he wouldn’t be there to hold you tonight and you decided it was okay. You figured you’d cook for the both of you whenever he decided to come back from girlfriend number four.
You knew going back to your place was a big, fat, fucking no. After all, Taehyung and Hyejin were probably celebrating their first grand anniversary together and you didn’t want to be there. No one wanted to witness who they were irrevocably in love with be someone else. It just reminded you of the heartbreak, sadness, and tears all over again. Sighing, you made your way inside, going into Namjoon’s room to retrieve your left over clothes from last time to change into. You didn’t want to be in clothes where Taehyung had left his mark on.
Fortunately for you though, Namjoon had arrived quite early from his date.
“I thought you weren’t going to be here.” You said with a mouth full of mint chocolate ice cream. Even though Namjoon despised that flavor with all the fiber in his body, he still always went out to retrieve some from you.
“I had a feeling you’d be a mess tonight so I brought this,” he said, lifting a recycling bag. His dimples were showcasing, eyes slightly squinted from how cutely he was smiling. “I went grocery shopping so we can make pasta!”
“Oh, well I made your favorite a while ago as well. How about you roll up this—” you brought up the baggy that was filled with weed. “And serves us some wine while I cook the pasta?”
He sighed, hand over heart as he melodramatically said, “Sounds like utter heaven.”
And that’s exactly what happened. He sat across from you, legs crossed with a blunt in his hand as he waited for his pasta to slightly cool down. You were already gone, loving the hazy effect it had on you. Soft music was playing and you were doing okay, but then a particular song came on that made you remember him all over again.
“I don’t know the situation between you and him, but it has you fucked over so badly. I’ve never seen you so head over heels over someone, much less a man.” Namjoon suddenly spoke up after watching you. There were tears already brimming in your eyes as you tried to blink them back.
“If I told you who it was you wouldn’t be this nice to me.” You quietly muttered out, avoiding his curious gaze. But you kept on forgetting who you were talking to after all. Namjoon was always one step ahead of you, he was only giving you space.
“You are my best friend, you idiot.” He fiercely reminded you, arms wrapping around you. “I know you like the back of my hand so whoever it is I know you’re not doing it on purpose to hurt yourself, or anyone else.”
“He’s just different. I don’t know what made me just fall into oblivion for him, but he makes me feel safe, secured, and at home.”
“But?”
You glanced down at your hands, heart aching to the point where you just wanted it to stop. “But he’s not mine, Namjoon. He belongs to someone else, and they are just so in love with each other.”
“It’s Taehyung isn’t it.” He didn’t ask, rather he stated it. At this point you weren’t going to deny it. After all, you were hell bent on not seeing him anymore after today. It was for the best. Your silence however spoke rather than your own words could. Tears were staining your cheeks, a choked up sob escaping from your lips. You hastily covered your mouth with your hands to prevent anymore, eyes screwing shut as the pain coursed through your body.
“C’mere,” Namjoon gestured you towards him and you instantly wrapped yourself around him like a koala. You leaned your head against his chest, your eyes fluttering to a close as he began to rock you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.  You wondered how you had lucked out with finding Namjoon. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t feel and be this safe in his arms. This love you felt for him reminded you of how strong your bond was with him. He’d do anything to protect you just as you would as well. And right now seeing you sob against his chest broke your soulmate apart.
“Love is a bitch, y/n. But one thing I know is that if it’s meant to be, then it’s worth fighting for…the right way that is. Right now I know you feel this intense fervor of love you have for him won’t go away anytime soon, but I promise you it is.  Put some distance between you and him. If you find yourself going back to him, then all I can tell you is to talk to him. Talking does wonders, baby. ”
“It’s easier said than done. Also, Hyejin is my best friend and are you forgetting that Taehyung is still in love with her?”
He remained quiet. If Namjoon voiced out his real thoughts, he was sure he would just ignite the fire within your heart. So he sufficed with just holding you in his arms because this was the support you needed in this moment. You needed someone who could hold you and see through you. He figured Taehyung had dug deep beneath the depths of your secured heart and he wanted nothing than to go and ruin their precious little celebration. Regardless, he just hoped Taehyung was taken out of your life so you could get a whole of yourself again.
After midnight, your phone had begun to ring insistently. You were deep asleep, curled up in his covers as Namjoon stared at your phone. ‘Taehyungieee’ was the name flashing on the screen. Namjoon wondered what he wanted from you. No sane boyfriend would be calling their girlfriend’s best friend this late. He wondered just how you had developed these feelings for him and the answer was staring at him right on the face. The picture it flashed along with his name was you and him. You were on Taehyung’s back, arms lazily wrapped around him as you did bunny ears on him. His eyes were closed, but the huge grin plastered on his face made it evident that he was incredibly happy around you.  
So Namjoon grabbed a hold of your phone and answered the call.
He was already sputtering out nonsense as soon as he answered the call. “I know it’s late, but I need to tell you something. I—I, I did something tonight and the only person who I only want to see in this moment is you. I don’t know what I was thinking, but today just reassured me that you—”
Namjoon was having none of it. “She’s with me, Taehyung.” He sharply cut him off, anger evident in his voice. “So I suggest you to stop playing with her feelings before I personally go over to your place and beat the fuck out of you. I don’t wanna hear any of your bullshit when all you’ve done is hurt her recklessly. Leave her the fuck alone, you don’t deserve her.”
Namjoon hung up. Your phone was tossed somewhere behind him after he deleted the call. He sighed into his hands. Now he knew why. He wondered if Hyejin knew too. He wondered if she was okay because you surely weren’t and you weren’t even his girlfriend. He glanced over at you, wondering when your heartbreak would end.
 A week later, Taehyung had packed up everything and left. And in his wake, he had taken your heart with him too, the red string of your love attached to it, tangling until it was just a huge ball of sorrow.
  And it goes back to now.
It’s him who breaks the silence. You watched as he calmly bent down to drop his bags on the ground and once he stood up again, his dark brown eyes met yours. He seemed hesitant in approaching you at first, but you felt yourself take a step closer to him involuntarily. You honestly could not believe it.
“Taehyung,” you finally acknowledged him, eyes meeting his. The way he gazed at you reminded you of the time in the hallway where he was declaring to you so many beautiful words and you had realized you were fucking in love with him.
He slowly inched closer, his hands twitching at his sides. It was him who took the final step, his arms slowly raising rather tentatively. A flicker of eyes was exchanged between the two of you, almost fleeting. Your fingers were already raising, yearning to touch him because you just had to make sure that this was real. However, the second his hands met your skin, reality had set in. Eyes widened, breathing had halted, and Taehyung’s arms were pulling you into his embrace so desperately. You practically lunged yourself at him, all teary eyed and with quivering lips spilling his name.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he breathed out, his hot breath raising goosebumps all over your body. “And I missed you so much.” He whispered it out, but you heard it so loud and fucking clear. You dug your face into the crook of his neck, hands inches away from the nape of his hair that had gotten longer. Your side was curled up into his, eyes closed to keep the feeling of this moment engraved in your heart.
His hand was placed at the back of your head, keeping you in place in his arms. Your fingers dug into his skin, your mind trying to wrap around the idea that he was indeed here. He was here, and you were finally in his arms once again. His arms were strongly wrapped around your body, pulling you flush against him. His scent was everywhere. It was invading your senses, your way of thinking, and reigniting those feelings that you tried to burn away. Everything was just bubbling up inside and now you had to worry about waiting for it to burst once again.
Your Taehyung was back.
You felt his hand slowly travel down your spine, his fingers tracing every curve of your body before enveloping you in such a tight, vice grip. You could hardly breathe and you didn’t know if it was due to the excitement, or because he was just holding you so close to him so tightly. The beating of his heart was erratic against your chest and you inhaled his scent, not fully believing that he was finally back after such a long period of time.
“You have no idea just how much I wanted to come back every time you came into my mind.”
And then your clouded, foggy mind soon returned all the sorrow, heartbreak, and tears you had suffered all at once. That brief happiness of seeing him, of being reunited with him, and having him hold you like this would never fill up the hole he had dug out of your heart.
“I’m sure you did,” you bitterly bit out at him, remembering the shit he had put you through. No matter how comfortable you felt being in his arms again, you were already pulling away from him. “That definitely seemed like it when you just left and didn’t say anything to me, or anyone for a fact.”
It was too much. Just two years ago he had walked into your life, made you feel butterflies and heartbreak all at once. Two years ago, he had begun dating your best friend and all you could do was play along, pushing a side your own feelings. A year ago, he broke your best friend’s heart and yours simultaneously. And now, he’s back.
“I’m sorry,” his eyes were deeply filled with concern. Those hands gently framed your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that had fallen. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”
You just shook your head and laughed a little at the situation you were in. He was pulling you back into his embrace but you just removed his hands from you. He wasn’t allowing you think again. Snapping out of your trance you snarled out, “Just stop! Stop touching me and let me go.”
Taehyung seemed as he had been punched. His grip on you weakened automatically, eyes shining with turmoil trapped in them.
“I’m leaving,” you mustered out, avoiding his gaze once again. You knew if you glanced into those eyes you were going to turn into putty and run back to him like nothing. That was something you didn’t need right now. He couldn’t just prance back into your life without facing the consequences.
“Hey,” he started, his voice filled with despair and urgency. “Please wait, please,” he pleaded and you shook your head, trying to clear his voice from your mind. His hand intertwined with yours, tugging you back to him.
Your eyes widened at the feeling of his fingers interlocking with yours. If you could kiss him right now, you would. Every inch of your body was yearning to pull him and just kiss him because no amount of words would ever put it through your heart just how much you adored this man.
“I’m sorry I left like that, but I’m back now and I want to make things right, okay?” He tried resonating with you, but you figured moving on was the only way to keep you and your poor, fragile heart safe. “Here isn’t the place to talk, but please give me a chance to come back into your life again and explain why I left like that.”
You slowly disentangled your fingers from him and Taehyung faltered. You just grabbed your bags and said, “I can’t let you back into my life, not when it was so hard to let you go when you left me behind so easily.”
 And with that said, Taehyung let you go.
 —-
 Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you knew your eyes were red and swollen, but you hadn’t felt any sort of emotion since he pranced into your life minutes ago. You were a blank canvas, but somehow Taehyung always managed to get you so beautifully painted with the brightest and warmest colors you could ever think of. Streaks of blues, purple, pinkish, orange and yellows hues adorned and blossomed from your soul, evolving as each day passed. All of these colors reminded you of how it felt to be around his presence. Of how it felt to slowly and all at once fall in love with a person.
“What’s wrong with you?” Hyejin murmured out, her arms were wrapped around you. She was leaning her head on your shoulder, eyes curiously gazing at you with worry. “I haven’t seen you this sad since last year.”
A bittersweet smile edged your lips. Of course destiny was cruel. To fall for a man who wasn’t, couldn’t, and still wouldn’t be yours. To be fair, falling for Taehyung came unexpectedly, but yet again everything with him was unexpected and beautiful in a sense that reminded you that you were alive and could feel.
“I’m fine, just tired,” you mumbled out, trying to not let your emotions get the better of you. How could you explain to her that the reason you were crumbling once again was due to the man who broke her heart on the day of their anniversary? 
The day they broke up Hyejin was enthusiastically telling you about how passionate and fulfilling that night was going to be so you spent the night at Namjoon’s again, trying to drown yourself with weed and food. The next day you found your best friend on the couch with makeup stains and the smell of alcohol oozing from her. She never really told you what went down that night but for a while your relationship with her had been strained. There were days where it was just silent. She wouldn’t face you, or even talk to you until a couple weeks passed by. The mentioning of Kim Taehyung was forbidden in the household you both shared together. That unspoken rule was what made everything okay between the two of you again.
“I’ll be back later if Namjoon cancels—”
“No,” you waved her off. “Go and enjoy your weird date with him. I just saw this stupid drama and it has me in my feelings. I’ll be fine. I’ll call Wheein later and see if she wants to get drunk together.”
“Yeah,” She said, grabbing a hold of her purse with a semi disgusted look on her face. “I definitely don’t wanna be here to see that go down like last time.”
“Have fun with Joonie! Tell that moron that I found my Nintendo 64 the other day!”
“He’s going to feel relieved that he didn’t actually break it, or misplaced it as you accused him of.” She narrowed her eyes at you and you simply glanced down at your phone, feeling attacked right now.
“To be fair it wouldn’t be the first time so leaveee me aloneee,” you whined out and Hyejin just shook her head.
“I’ll be back for dinner tomorrow so don’t go anywhere! I’m buying Chinese takeout tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here as long as you buy me food.” You dryly replied, being genuinely honest.
She smiled cutely, waving her finger at you quite adoringly in response. “Done.”
You felt like a proud mother watching her child go into her first day of school since Hyejin was enthusiastically waving at you. She was quick to tell you she loved you before she skipped out the door. A tiny smile managed to make its way on your face. You figured she’d be back in less than five minutes though since she tended to be forgetful at times. As in cue, the doorbell rang and you sighed.
“I asked you if you had your fucking keys and you—” your eyes met with the figure who was not in fact your best friend.
You almost screamed, but conformed to a whisper. “Taehyung?”
Upon seeing him, you immediately stumbled over your feet as you tried to close the door again. Taehyung’s response seemed out of reflex. His arms were already wrapping around you, catching you in seconds before your face could connect with the lovely ground. He held you protectively against his side, his eyes taking in your expression as you glanced up at him in shock.
“I see you haven’t changed one bit.” He retorteed, his voice echoing throughout the hallway corridor. You had forgotten the sound of his voice until you saw him again, and now he was standing outside of your apartment…with his arms around you.
“Hyejin isn’t here.” Your mouth automatically told him. It was always that fucking sentence. Every time he would come over Hyejin would already be at work, or out with her friends, or even going to his place. Taehyung was always at your place though, with or without her in the apartment.
He scoffed, and then began to softly laugh upon seeing your confused expression. “I’m not here for her.”
Oh. Your eyes widened at that. Oh.  His arms had gotten bulkier, his frame broader and you hated that you noticed that within the seconds that he was holding you. You gained footing again and pushed yourself out of his arms, backtracking into your apartment to refrain your dumb self from saying anything stupid.
“I went over to your old apartment last night, but instead I got met with an eccentric Chinese couple.”
You snorted, biting back a venomous retort. “I’m sure you had fun being introduced to their classic rock collection, eh?”
He was watching you, taking your reaction towards him as he carefully spoke. “That and they invited me over to dinner tomorrow since I was so charming in their eyes.”
Your mouth was set on a thin line, expression impassive. “You won’t look so charming once my fist connects with your face if you don’t tell me what you’re doing here.”
Despite that threatening comment, he grinned. “You’ve always been all bark so I highly doubt you’ll do that.”
He was right on that, but the anger you had stored inside you would beg to differ in this case. 
“I’m not here to fight though,” he quickly spoke, noting how you were seconds away from slamming the door on his face right now. ��I’m here to say that no amount of words will ever take back what I did to you. I know what I did was unfair to you in every way and I’ll understand if you don’t want me back in your life. But let me tell you something y/n, during that time that I was gone I did a lot of self-thinking and it all led me back to you. The first thing I did once I stepped foot in this country was look for you, which is why I’m here. I’m sorry for leaving like that, for not explaining myself, and for hurting you the way I did.”
“You idiot,” you quietly uttered out before becoming more vocal once the anger seeped in. “I-I, how dare you try to prance into my life like nothing and think that an apology is going to fix everything? You were my person, Taehyung. You broke my heart once I realized that you had left and you weren’t coming back. For a year, I wondered what happened that made you leave me like that and—and—”
You felt your throat begin to burn as tears blurred your eyesight. Damn it. Hold yourself together.
“y/n...”
“You know what?” you sucked in air and blinked back the tears. “I wish you the best in life, but what you did I will never forgive you for.”
You slammed the door in his face with all the force in your body, causing the door to shake. It echoed through your apartment and you couldn’t hear him over the roaring waves of anger that clouded your senses overall. Despite you being so livid, the other part of you wanted nothing more than to open the door and let him inside once again. You knew what side could overpower the other one the moment you could clearly hear him once again.
“y/n, I’m sorry,” his voice cracked and you screwed your eyes shut, fingers curling into the palm of your hand. “Please,” he continued, twisting your heart more. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. I just don’t want to lose you. It was a hell of a year without having you constantly by my side.”
“Liar,” you instantly called his bluff.
You slowly approached the door, hand outstretched towards the door handle. Taehyung was outside your door, it wasn’t a dream anymore that you could wake up from. He was just a few feet away with a barrier between the two of you once again. And then your hand went limp besides your body, eyes screwing to a shut as you tried to allow your brain to do the thinking instead of your heart. Sighing, you simply leaned your forehead against the wooden floor, wanting nothing more than to have his arms around you.
Silence.
You wondered if he had given up and left.
“I’m going to wait here until you decide to open the door.” Nope, he hadn’t.
“I’ll call security.” You immediately bit out and all you heard was a quiet chuckled.
Out of gnawing curiosity, you watched through the peephole as he slid down and sat criss crossed facing your door. His phone sat next to him, faced down. He was simply gazing at your door now, not moving an inch.
“I’ll be waiting.”
You deliberately screamed at yourself to leave him there. You pried your fingers from the door handle, reprimanding yourself over being so incredibly stupid. So instead you occupied yourself with trying to clean, organize, and even fucking cook. But everywhere you went was full of memories of you and him. Despite you moving away from your old apartment, you still had the same couch where you both sat across each other, throwing popcorn, gummy bears, and m&m’s at each other’s mouths. The bed sheets where he had accidentally fallen asleep while you were running your fingers through his hair, listening to him talk about his shitty day at work. The pillows you both had initiated a pillow fight with at three am in the morning. The wine glasses of that summer night where you and he spent hours talking about everything and anything. Even now as you filled up a glass of water to pour it into the pot reminded you of how he would volunteer to help you cook.
“Here, let me just—” he leaned over you, his shirt raising above his belly button as he reached over to grab the glasses for sweet tea. Your eyes flickered over to his exposed skin and the urge to trace your fingers down his abdomen was so immensely strong that it frightened you completely. You felt heat warm up your cheeks as you decided to glance away from his glowing skin and rather turn your eyes towards him. But Taehyung’s gaze was already on you, glasses already in hand.
The proximity between the two of you was numbing to the heart and brain. He was so incredibly close, to the point where you could see the color of his irises. In that moment, your favorite color had gone from yellow to brown in seconds. He was trapping you in, body touching yours. His warmth envelope you and you swore you could count those pretty lashes on his eyes and you would not get tired of it. His eyes flickered down to your lips and you knew you weren’t breathing at this point.
“Strange,” he suddenly cleared his throat, and took a step away from you. He turned away from you and you took in a deep and necessary breath.
“What?” you uttered out, slightly ashamed. He caught you staring and was probably disgusted by you now. Even you were bemused at your sudden urge that hadn’t been there before. What the fuck was going on?
He turned to face you, seeming a bit struck himself. “I suddenly have the urge to paint.”
“Really?” you broke out into a smile, forgetting the moment all together. “Dude, that’s great!”
His awe was transparent as he warmly smiled back at you. “It really is.”
That night you realized Taehyung had begun to sneak his way into your heart. The first ever color to be tentatively painted on the canvas of your heart was the color brown.
 “Can you believe Taehyung has been ignoring me for the past few days?” Hyejin began to ramble on quite angrily. “So you know what I did the other day? I went over his place and he was inside this weird room, locked inside. He came out with paint all over him and proceeded to kick me out of his apartment, claiming he was too tired and busy.”
You continued writing down your notes, trying to stay focus on your assignment.
“…something about finally getting his fucking muse and whatnot. He was telling me about his drought the other night, but I think I fell asleep on him. However, what the fuck? It’s been almost a week now and he’s not even answering my c—”
She suddenly got a phone call and you thanked your lucky stars. Judging from the disappointed look in her face, it was clearly not Taehyung. She still answered the call and finally left you alone in peace.
From: Taehyungieee
I just finished my first ever painting since two years ago
   The cup of water suddenly slipped from your numb fingers and crashed all over the floor. It was a rude and uncalled awakening call for sure.
“Shit,” you said, immediately grabbing a hold of the broom to clean the mess up.
“Are you okay?”
And there he was: the rude, uncalled awakening call. It was startling you awake again, but did you really want to wake up? You’ve been asleep all this time, waiting with your broken heart at the palm of your hands. Did you really want to wake up just to have it punched, twisted, and hell bent over again?
“y/n, I need to know if you’re okay or—”
“I’m fine,” you croaked out, eyes watering. You were obviously not fine. And you weren’t going to be as long as he sat outside your fucking door. The anxiety of Hyejin coming back and seeing him suddenly struck a nerve. How would she react to him coming back after so long? You were barely hanging on right now. You even sat down beside the pile of broken glass, head leaning back against the cabinet. You ignored the pile you had amounted, waiting to be pricked by now.
As long as you were in love with him, you knew it was going to stir everything up in your life once again. You knew him coming back was something that you did not plan for. You weren’t the slightest prepared and it frightened you. The last time you were unprepared you fell deeply in love with a man who was not yours to keep.
It was past midnight when you decided to just see if he was still outside. The temptation of sliding him a plate of food was incredibly strong, but you held out. Now as you peered out the peephole you realized he was cold. He had his arms wrapped around his body and was slightly shivering. The best of part of you grabbed a hold of you and you grabbed a hold of your favorite blanket and rather quietly and slowly you opened the door. You found him resting against the edge of the door frame, sleeping. With light steps, you approached his sleeping figure before taking a seat next to him. You wrapped your blanket around him and yourself. With a poke to his cheek, you secured yourself that he was indeed passed out since he didn’t even flinch or stir. The silence welcomed you, bringing you so much peace as you quietly heard Taehyung’s breathing. It was in that moment of weakness that you momentarily allowed yourself to lean your head against his shoulder. 
He was back.
Taehyung.
Your mouth was already spilling your contained secrets.
“The only reason why I’m here is because I still love you, Taehyung.” You whispered it out, your fingers tenderly brushing away the bangs from his eyes. “I don’t think I ever stopped, or will if I’m being honest.”
You figured he was dead asleep so it wouldn’t matter.
And he was sound asleep. But as you glanced up at him, gathering each and every detail from his pretty face, you realized just how much you had missed him. There were nights where you would scribble away your heart out on a piece of paper in search for him. Tears were documented on those pages and your feelings were a mesh of words that only he could bring out of you. Kim Taehyung had definitely left a wound in your heart and now here he was beside you sound asleep, quickly patching it up and healing it with just his mere presence. God, you were an absolute idiot.
You stayed there with him for who knows long until he started moving. It was then that you instantly ripped yourself away from him and stood up in time for him to flutter his eyes open. A loud ass yawn emitted from his lips and he looked disoriented before his brown eyes landed on you.
“y/n,” he rasped out, immediately sitting up once again. His legs were wrapped up in your blanket and you watched how he realized he even had it in the first place. His fingers tentatively curled around it, tugging it closer to his body.
He wasn’t looking at you as he spoke up, sounding incredibly tired. “Do you want me to leave?”
Yes. Yes, was what you meant to fucking say.
You were gazing ahead of you, not turning towards him as you replied heavily, “No.”
Taehyung was immensely surprised and shocked. You were sure he was expecting you to kick him out for good once and for all like you should, but then he softly replied, “Okay.”
“It’s cold.” You quietly told him, already beginning to walk inside your apartment again. “Come inside.”
He trudged in behind you rather quietly, hands still curled around the blanket. You led him into the kitchen, pouring him a hot cup of green tea so he could drink. Alongside stood a plate full of food that had been obviously warmed up. Whatever he was thinking though, he didn’t utter a word out. His eyes didn’t meet yours. They were too focused on the steaming mug of tea and food.
“Drink this,” you said as you passed him the mug, your eyes flickering away from his intense gaze now. “You’re more than welcome to take the couch. My bathroom is down the hall to the right if you need it. And I want you out of here before 10 in the morning the latest.”
The way you spoke was monotone, firm, and was nothing compared to the sweet, kind hearted person Taehyung knew so well.
“Noted.”
You both finally met each other’s eyes. You held his gaze, hoping that in some way all your pain, tears, and heartbreak could be transferred so he would know how you felt for so long. Maybe then he would know the damaged he had done to you inside and out. However, that did not happen. Instead you felt your gaze blur, hands beginning to tremble from just how hurt you were so inside. You glanced away, shoving past him.
You didn’t turn around to notice the way his saddened gaze followed you all the way until you trapped yourself between another set of four walls, away from him.
It was four am.
You couldn’t fall asleep.
Your bed sheets were just not lulling you to sleep at this point. You were curled up on one side of your bed, hugging your pillow into your body for comfort. You laid there, feeling so empty and with so much emotion all at once. Your brain couldn’t exactly grasp it. Taehyung was literally down the fucking hall from you. He was just a few steps away from you. A few steps from wrapping his arms around you and making you feel like home once again.
A soft but rather small smile appeared on your face. At least he was safe and healthy. He looked so much better, glowing even. You then wondered how you looked. Did you look as you felt? Did he not hurt the way you did? Probably not.You sat up, legs already swinging off your bed. You were bound to drink some medicine so it could knock you out to the point where you’d wish you’d wake up with him already gone. You were already opening the door, ready to step out when you met Taehyung already outside your door, hand curled into a fist midair. 
“I—I fuck,” He sputtered out, hand falling beside his side. “I didn’t know you were awake.“
“Did you expect me to sleep soundly, Taehyung?” you genuinely prompted, the anger quickly igniting inside of you. Your voice was incredibly sweet, but dripping of venom. “Did you expect me to fall asleep so easily? Is that how you slept while you were away this time? Without a care in this fucking world? Liberated and running away like the coward you were and still are?”
Taehyung did not respond. His eyes had become watery as he barely spoke up, “I know what I did was shitty. I know what I did hurt you beyond believe. I can’t express just how much I was hurting too, okay? You think leaving was easy? You think being away from you was ever easy?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” you finally spat out, causing him to flinch. “Don’t you fucking compare your pain to mine. You left without saying anything to me. You left nothing, nothing. Not even a single note, letter, or anything. And you left me wondering, stupidly worrying over you, but you obviously didn’t give a fuck. Instead you were living life in Venice ever so graciously.”
He was shaking his head to every word you were saying, disbelief written all over his features. “What do you mean, I didn’t give a fuck? Are you fucking blind, y/n? Did you honestly not know just how much you meant to me, and still do? For fucks sakes, I’m standing here, trying to apologize to you when I could be fucking other bitches, or even forgetting completely about you. So what the fuck do you mean by me not giving a fuck about you? And you’re pulling up Venice?”
His eyebrows were furrowing, trying to follow along. “You knew about me all this time? And you didn’t even try to at least contact me?””
“A friend of mine bought your painting and I recognized it the moment I saw it. And how could I after what she told me?” you bitted out, boring holes into him by now. “The world renowned artist, Kim Taehyung, an indie artist who lives in Venice. Happily living his life away with fucking bitches and enjoying his newfound wealth.” You recited the exact same thing Wheein had told you in her precise words.
She had burned the painting in front of you afterwards.
Taehyung simply scoffed and then began shaking his head in annoyance. “The Venice part is true, but in no moment did I ever touch anyone else that wasn’t you.”
“Stop,” you instantly warned him, his words becoming more of a blow that for some reason instead of consoling you it just kept adding to the flame inside your soul. “Stop saying things like that to me.”
“It’s true though,” he desperately urged out, sounding frustrated now. He ran his hands down his face, groaning as you seemed to be distancing yourself each time he opened his mouth. “Never once did I fuck anyone while I was over there. You wanna know why? Because my certain muse was waiting back home for me.”
“Fuck you!” you finally snapped, shoving him away from your entrance. “You don’t get to say shit like that when your actions prove you otherwise. Do you not see how you left me? I am here standing in front of you crying because I am a pathetic ass person who cared too much over someone who didn’t give a single fuck about me!”
His jaw ticked, seeming impassive and you fucking detested that. He never once showed an ounce of emotion and it always made you feel incredibly stupid. This time however, Taehyung finally snapped. “Don’t you fucking dare say I never gave a shit about you when I did. I showed you countless of times just how much you meant to me. For fucks sakes, I painted you so many times!”
He finally exploded, yelling back at you now. “Could you not fucking see it? How insane I was when you came into my life? You want prove?”
“No, what I want—”
“What?” He barked out and you bit the inside of your cheek, restraining yourself from physically assaulting him.
So you resonated with hurting him verbally instead. “I want you out of my life.” You decided, trying to convince yourself with that too.
“You sure you want that?” He challenged you and you were taken back by his assertiveness. It only infuriated you even more. Your fingers were curling up inside your palm, nails digging into your skin. The pain felt numbing compared to the bubbling hatred you were feeling inside. “If so, just say it straight to my face.”
Before you could control yourself, your fingers were fisting his shirt, crumpling it up as you brought him closer to you. He stumbled over, hand flying over to hold on to the doorway entry to stop himself from crushing you. You slowly gritted out with such defiance, “I. Want. You. Out. Of. My. Life.
By the time you were done uttering the last word out, your voice had begun to shake. Your fingers had loosen a hold of him and you felt utterly defenseless.
He leaned into you, getting on eye level, and lowly bit out, “And actually mean it.”
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Sev—
“Get out and never fucking come back into my life!” you exploded, yelling at him now. You were quick in releasing him and shoving him away from you. “Get out!”
He stood there, without saying a single word. 
“Get out of my fucking apartment, out of my life, and out of my existence.”
“But I don’t want to,” his voice cracked and you halted, your throat feeling on fire from how hard it was to not cry in front of him. “I don’t want you to give up on me when I am standing right here, ready to give you everything and much more. I am standing here, and I am not leaving until your hatred for me goes away.”
What did he mean by that? What the hell was going on?
His hair was a mess from letting his fingers tug at it and just the sound of his broken and desperate voice was making you crumble all over again. “I don’t want to leave when it’s been a hell of a fucking year not having you around me, not seeing you smile over the dumbest of things, and not being able to hold you. It’s killing me, y/n.”
Tears were already spilling down your cheeks before you could stop them. With the sleeve of your shirt, you hastily wiped them away from your face since you were not going to let him see you cry. But he was right there, and he was back. He was back after such a long time and he was right there.
“I hate you for making me feel this way,” you sobbed out, finally breaking. Your shaking hands tugged at the strands of your hair in utter devastation. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so much Kim Taehyung. I hate you. I HATE YOU!”
Each word felt like a needle pricking into his heart, but seeing you break down like that? Taehyung wanted nothing but to beat the fuck out of himself as well.
“I am so sorry.” Tears were streaming down his face, he seemed at lost for words. “I am so fucking sorry.”
You both were unconsciously edging closer. As you were screaming at him how much you hated him, he was nearing you, his cries of  ‘I am so sorry’ contradicting yours. His hands tentatively framed your face, foreheads pressed against each other’s as you sobbed.  He was so careful in touching you. You felt his fingertips ghost your face so gently, the pad of his fingers wiping your tears away as he brokenly croaked out, “I hate myself for making you cry. I hate myself for leaving you like that, and I will continue to hate myself as long as you cry over me because I don’t deserve your tears, y/n.”
“Just—” you hiccupped, hands encasing over his. Your grip on him tightened, eyesight blurred and throat burning. “Just hold me, Taehyung.”
“Please, j-just hold me,” you sobbed out and Taehyung was wrapping his arms around you before you could finish that sentence. His hands were encasing your head, his mouth on your hair as he tried his best to mend you back into the person you were before he came into your life.
All your pain, hurt, and heartbreak had seeped into his veins. His own feelings had intensified and seeing you break down like that was enough to render him straight down on to his knees.  Being in Venice was hell. He was alone and his thoughts were constantly full of you and only you. There were times where he impulsively would try and run back into your arms, but he stubbornly reminded himself that you were better off without him. Seeing you now with your face dug into the crook of his neck, fingers digging into his clothes, he realized just how fucking wrong he had been.
Your feelings were as evident as ever and he blamed fate for separating you both like that.
“I’m sorry,” he held you close to him, whispering it until it was engraved in your mind. “Please forgive me, I’m so sorry. Give me a chance, give me a chance to prove just how much you mean to me. Please, just one. And if that doesn’t work, then I’ll let you go.”
You sighed, you were too drained. You felt completely exhausted, but Taehyung was running his fingers through your hair, still apologizing to you with tears in his eyes. At one point the both of you had slid down against the wall together. His hold on you would not loosen and by now you were resting your head against his chest, his breathing luring you to sleep as each minute passed. You were sitting in between his legs, eyes fluttering to a close.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he continued, sniffling. “I never meant to hurt you, please know that. Please, please know that none of this was intentional. I—, I, lo—”
“Okay,” you mumbled out, tilting your head back against his chest to glance at him. He glanced down, lips centimeters away from yours but you didn’t falter. “One chance. One chance to prove to me that all of what you’re saying is true. Actions tend to speak louder than words, Taehyung.”
“Okay, okay,” he was quick to agree. “One chance is all I need. And I’ll prove it to you, okay? Not for me, but for you.”
You returned back to your original position. You made yourself comfortable in his arms, eyes finally closing. A soft plead left your lips, “Are you going to leave in the morning?”
“Not unless you kick me out.”
You were out like a light after that.
 Hours later with the sun peeking in through the window sliding doors, you slowly stirred yourself awake. As you began to blink yourself fully awake, you realized you were no longer on the hallway floor, but on your bed. And Taehyung was beside you, hot breathing fanning the back of your neck. His arms were not only wrapped around you, curling you further into his own warmth, but his fingers had intertwined with yours as well. Never in your dreams, would you have imagined the day you’d wake up and realize you were still in Taehyung’s arms.
He didn’t leave.
He didn’t, but you needed to. It was almost noon and you knew your best friend would come barging in through that door in an hour or so. You heard him softly exhale, fingers twitching in your hold. He was waking up. You immediately closed your eyes, relaxed more into him, and evened out your breathing.
“I won’t fail you again.” He whispered out, fingers slowly pulling away from yours. You had your heart lodged in your throat, feeling him pull away. It was seconds later when you felt his fingers tracing yours, trailing up your arm, and then going back down. His touch must work wonders since you were lulled back to sleep in seconds. The second time you woke, he was gone. A note was messily written on your night stand and just as you were about to read it, Hyejin barged into your room.
“You deadass just woke up now? It’s two in the afternoon!”
You curled the note underneath your hand, your eyes zooming in on the jacket behind her. It was Taehyung’s jacket. Did he leave it behind? Will Hyejin turn around and recognize it?
“Y-Yeah,” you stammered out, screwing your eyes shut at being so damn obvious. “I- I think I smoked a little bit too much last night.”
“Well, hydrate yourself then.” She reprimanded, seeming worried now. “I’ll serve you some water, okay? Also, Joonie is out there and he brought us lunch!”
Oh fuck. Not only was she here, but Namjoon as well? You waited for her to leave your room until you uncurled the note.
‘I’m in your closet’
“Taehyung,” you gasped out and quickly ran over to your closet. You pulled the door open and saw him sitting there, playing Overwatch on his damn phone.
“I was going to wake you when I heard them, but then I heard her calling your name so I had a few seconds before I could write that and get in here,” he  sheepishly admitted and you found yourself grinning like an idiot at him despite everything.
He hadn’t left.
“I can give you a five minute window for you to make it out through the door. You’re going to have to be really fucking quick.”
“Damn it, y/n.” He began to then crawl out of the closet, mumbling nonsense into the air. “Okay, but before we do all of this, can you come over to my place tonight?” He was standing down, towering over you slightly.
“That quick?” you dryly humored out and Taehyung bit down on his bottom lip.
His next sentence was what did it for you. “You said I have one chance. It’s been 393 days since we’ve last seen each other and I’m not going to waste any more time between us.”
Your gaze met his. “I’ll text you when I’m there.”
Getting him out of there wasn’t exactly easy. You gathered Namjoon and Hyejin into her room, slamming the door shut behind you. How did you even manage to get them in the same room? Well you accused Namjoon of stealing your favorite chips and went over to complain to Hyejin who was already in her room.
“I did not touch your fucking chips,” he continued to defend himself, eyes narrowing. “This is called defamation and I will sue you, you nimrod.”
“This is called defamation and I will sue you,” you openly mocked him, knowing this would grate his nerves.
“You little—”
“You see!” you extended your arm, wiggling your finger at Namjoon as Hyejin seemed utterly done with the both of you. “He called me a bitch! Tell your boyfriend to stop stealing my food and calling me degrading names.”
“I did not call you a bitch.”
“Whatever,” you waved him off.
“Did smoking too much bud suddenly shorten the two brain cells you still had left?” He retorted, his index finger tapping the side of your head. “Hellooo, I know you’re already working hard, but can you try a little bit more?”
With slit eyes you slowly began approaching him. “I will castrate you in your sleep and choke you with your own—”
“Hey, hey!” Hyejin tried cutting in between the two of you.
“You’re on your period, right? That’s why you’re acting bitchier than usual.”
“Woah, woah!” Hyejin interrupted, a scowl placed on her lips. “Did you just pull that fucking card with two women in the room?”
Namjoon sighed, seeming utterly irritated, “I forgot what happens when thing number one joins thing number two.”
“You’re on fucking time out, Kim Namjoon.”
The five minute mark had passed.
“It’s okay.” You waved at them, but they were too busy debating between the two of them now. “I just remembered I ate them last night while I was high as fuck, whoops!”
It’s not like they heard you since they had begun bickering. Namjoon was actually sitting in the corner, face against the wall as they both tried to throw their opinions at each other. Without saying anything, you tiptoed your way out of there. Now all you needed was time to get ready for what was about happen tonight.
  -------
On the way to his new apartment, you wondered what would be the end of this story. Would you finally move on and leave? Would you finally be able to forget Kim Taehyung? You entered his penthouse, eyeing the place wearily as you made your way inside the low dimmed place. You then came to a slow stop once you came into view of the living room.
Paintings. You were surrounded by paintings of you.
From portraits, to abstract paintings, and even old sketches. El Museum de Amor was what it was written so intricately right on the center of his new wall. Judging by the new glamorous penthouse, you knew that it was him who wrote it. Your eyes brimmed with tears, an incredulous laugh emitting from your lips. Your trembling hand cupped your mouth in awe and utter shock. You were in utter disbelief since there was no way Taehyung had kept these hidden for so long. Each painting differed from one another, but one thing for sure was that his colors never did. He painted you with purples, pinks, blues, yellows, and a mixture of brown colors, enhancing you with the most beautiful, pastel colors.
Paintings of you doing daily, tribal things surrounded you, and you could tell they were old. Some included you with delicately made flowers surrounding you, enhancing the beauty that you never knew he saw in you. You traced the portrait, his emotions coming to life in your eyes after so long of waiting. It was as if you were seeing yourself through his eyes and all you saw was love. One thing that you noticed was how Taehyung had managed to beautifully shade in the stars in every single one of his paintings of you.
You are you’re own entity. You shine so brightly, silly. 
“I not only fell in love with you,” Taehyung spoke up, coming into view now. “But I fell irrevocably in love with painting you.”
You flipped a painting over, hands still shaking.
My muse, Silly.
It reminded you of the interview Wheein had showed you and Hyejin, which then proceeded by them two burning the painting together. Watching them set it on fire, tore you completely apart. Wheein was holding the painting as Hyejin held the lighter in her hand. You felt like an outsider just awaiting for the destruction that was about to commence. Hyejin lividly poured gasoline on it, screaming at an inanimate object until the tank was completely empty. Then she set it on fire and you could see the glimmer in her eyes as she watched it crumble beneath her fingertips.
 “Who is this mystery person?”
“Someone who I’ve tried to forget.”
“She must be very special then, since you know, to have the famous Vante painting her so intimately and beautifully.”
Taehyung was turned towards the screen, a saddened spark in his eyes.
“She is indeed. She was and still is my only muse and inspiration.”
 “I hated you for leaving me like that,” you suddenly told him, turning to face him. He was already behind you and you were ready to step into what was Kim Taehyung as a person. But first, there were still some questions unanswered. “Hyejin told me you both broke up and then when I went to see how you were doing you had packed up your bags and left.”
He was frowning now, eyes blazed. “I went to say goodbye to you but Hyejin told me you had gone out of town.”
“Well yeah,” you frowned, finding it all weird. “I left Sunday.”
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I went Friday.”
“We weren’t exactly on speaking terms when you left.” You clarified, still finding everything so uncorrelated and coming to terms at the same time.
“Fuck,” he swore underneath his breath. “Did you receive what I left there for you?”
“No?”
“It was the painting you left that day. I got it back the next day, you know, after Namjoon answered your phone that night.”
It was your turn to look in disbelief, “What?”
“The night that I broke up with Hyejin I called you and Namjoon answered.”
You began shaking your head, finding everything so confusing. “But, but there was no call from you that n—”
“I called you that night to tell you that I was in love with you.”
Oh fuck.
“The reason we broke up that same night was not necessarily because I wasn’t the same person when we met, but I had fallen in love with someone else.”
Staring at all the delicate and intricate paintings, you began to feel all of your questions being answered. The timing between the two of you was just incredibly fucked up.
“And rather than leading this relationship on, I was honest with her and that’s that. I broke up with her because the thought of not being with you was suffocating me so fucking much.”
You were blinking back tears, feeling so distraught by how much shit you both had been through because of the timing and uncertain events.
“So tell me why it took us this long to get to here then?” you said, sounding so heartbroken. “Tell me why in my dreams was the only way I could get to hear you say that you loved me?”
Everything was a mess, but here you both were. Taehyung was standing here in front of you, asking for another chance and here you were ready to give it to him. You were ready to dive back into him, hoping that this time you wouldn’t end up with a heart broken into bits of pieces. You were ready to fall even more in love with him. You knew it was possible.
“I love you,” he breathed out against your mouth, hands becoming firm on your hips now. There it was, the confirmation you’ve been desperately waiting for. His whole body was pressed against yours and your mind was racing as his eyes met yours.
“I am so stupidly and blindingly in love with you. It’s you who I’ve been trying to forget, but I can’t. No matter how hard I try to forget you, to forget the way you smiled at me, how your body was made for me, and how incredibly beautiful you are inside and out. I just fucking can’t.”
I love you.
“The reason why I left? I left because I was in love with you, y/n. I was in love with someone who I didn’t deserve. Someone who I have hurt so much in the process while I was with someone who I never truly loved. And I figured disappearing from your life would be better, but I didn’t mean to hurt you the way I did. I thought that doing this was going to be good for you and you’d be able to finally be happy.”
“Why?” you demanded, pushing him away from you. “Why couldn’t you have just talked to me like a normal human being instead of leaving this country and erasing yourself from my life like that? What the fuck were you thinking Taehyung?” your voice cracked, but the anger inside of you was finally dripping from your fingertips. 
“Do you have any idea how it felt to be in love with someone who wasn’t mine? To watch you with my best friend wishing that it was me in your arms instead of her? And then you leaving like that? Make me happy?” you scoffed. “Taehyung I was lost for so long and it’s not fair. You don’t get to decide what’s good for me. I get to decide that and if I strongly believe that it’s you, then it’s going to be fucking you.”
“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.” He slowly breathed out, inching closer to you now. “To—” he paused, tentative hands slowly inching closer to your face.
The pad of his fingers softly graced your face, awaiting your reaction before softly whispering, “To touch you like this.”
“Then do it Tae,” you whispered it out, hands cupping his face to have him closer to you. You softly brushed your lips against his, eyes fluttering to a close. “Please.”
His eyes glanced into yours before slowly fluttering to a close. Mouth softly molded against yours, his lips being tentative at first. But as Taehyung slowly kissed you, his hands wandered down your sides, carefully beginning to touch every curve of your body. Your heart soared as your lips heaved a gentle sigh into his mouth. You hadn’t felt so much emotion being put into a kiss, but yet again this was the man you were so in love with. His lips were tender and rendering you down so quickly, making your legs turn to mush and jelly all at once. It was slow and gentle, everything you ever hoped it would be with him. And then he abruptly pulled away from you, touch and sensation leaving with him.
There was a pause between the both of you as you both struggled to get a grip of one another. Something about the air was different as fleeting glances passed between the two of you. All you could do was stare intensely back at him as you both breathed in each other’s air from the proximity. And then as Taehyung gazed into your eyes with such fervor intensity, something clicked between the two of you.  Soul, heart, and passion vibrated throughout your body at the sensation of his touch because he was everywhere all at once. His fingers were already tangling themselves into your hair, tugging insistently as his mouth roughly met yours. Mouths clashed and pants began to emit from the both of you. A moan slipped past your lips at the sensation of his soft lips because it was finally happening. His cologne invaded your senses, making you even more stupid dizzy for this man.
His mouth missed yours from the excitement and his hot breath fanned against your skin as he nudged his knee between your legs, hoisting you up on his thigh, and pressing you further into him. Your skirt managed to ride up your thigh and Taehyung definitely did not miss the red, lacy thong adorning you so well.
“Much better,” he lowly breathed out against your mouth. You could feel his boxy grin against your lips and then you were kissing him again, melting and molding to his sync in just a few seconds. Soft moans emitted from you, body reacting before your already brain dead self could. You managed to wind up your arms around his neck, fingers pulling at the nape of his hair so desperately. His tongue was already slipping past, mouth sensually sucking down on your bottom lip.
Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung.
Fingers left his hair and instead wandered down his chest, hastily beginning to rip his shirt apart since you needed to feel him. And Taehyung didn’t seem to mind it one bit since his lips never detached from yours as he aided you in those fleeting moments.
“Here, silly,” he mumbled it out against your lips, eyes fluttering to an open. A laugh emitted from his lips upon realizing just how utterly impatient you were in that moment.
He was just so undeniably hot. With his curly hair matted up, swollen pretty lips, white dress shirt ruffled and almost off his body, and the tone of his tan skin glowing under the dim lighting by his candles. This man was effortlessly so beautiful and he just confessed to you about being his fucking muse. You eyed his button up shirt was and hurriedly tugged it down without wasting any more time. You wanted to get to the part where he was pinning you against his mattress and fucking your insides out.
“When you left,” you began and he was nearing you again. Hands framed your face ever so delicately with his pretty adorned silver ring hands. “I wanted to go after you, but you weren’t mine to yearn for.”
“But I was,” he lowly admitted to you with earnest sincerity. He was breathing into you as his lips met yours. “Since the moment I met you, I was already yours.”
His gaze was enough to set your whole soul on fire. Hands felt all tingly, head was dizzy but not from the buzz, and all you wanted at the moment was him. In your mind all that echoed was his name, Taehyung. You felt bewitched as he nudged your nose with his, hot breath fanning your face. You felt his fingers twitch, and with one last glance you simply stood on the tip of your toes, and softly pressed your mouth against his.
You felt him smile against your mouth and that immediately made your heart blossomed. As your hands slowly began to wander up his chest, you felt a soft pink hue being gently stroked against the canvas of your heart. It was light and sincere and tentative. And as Taehyung deepened the kiss, that soft pink darkened.
All thoughts were wiped free from your mind as his lips began to trail down the side of your neck, sucking and marking to his liking. It was then Taehyung’s hands grasped the back of your thighs, swiftly lifting you up. With a knee nudged between your thighs, he backed you up against the wall, pressing himself against you. A soft gasp emitted from your lips since he was right there again, lips barely brushing yours so tentatively and slowly. Hot air fanned your face, and the way he was gazing at you made your insides quiver in delight and your poor heart stutter.
“I can feel how wet you are for me, baby,” he purred out, fingers mischievously dancing up your thigh. You were watching his teasing movements like a fucking hawk, just waiting for him to do something you already.
“y/n.”
You glanced up and Taehyung was just gazing into you so intensely, halting you.
His fingers caressed your body, slowly wandering up before encasing your face in his large, veiny, and pretty hands. With a clear and low voice, he said, “Do you want me as bad as I want you?”
You happily wrapped your arms around his neck, a dazed smiled plastered all over your face. Taehyung definitely didn’t miss that since he was kissing you all over again. Taehyung hadn’t moved a muscle though and it dawned upon you that he was waiting for confirmation once he quirked an eyebrow, eyes telling it all. You almost laughed since here you were, practically kissing the crook of his neck and eagerly waiting for him to bend you over and do his worse.
“Yes,” you spilled it into his mouth without hesitation. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Okay.”
A moment of realization dawned upon the both of you, but you figured you’d deal with this later. Right now, what you wanted was standing right in front of you and you were bound to get it once and for all.
“Lead the way,” you breathed out against his lips.
“Okay then,” he confirmed, beginning to lead the both of you into his bedroom. One hand was placed along your back while the other was set on your ass, gently squeezing. He groaned upon feeling the lace that was barely covering you, and you could feel him harden underneath you.
With a kick to the door, he swung it open and gave you a last peck on the mouth before gently laying you down on his king sized bed. He didn’t turn on the light, but you propped yourself up, watching as he roamed around his room, fingers running through his long hair. His back was facing you and you could feel your heart accelerate since even in the dim lighting, you could still make out his broad shoulders and defined back. He had definitely changed physically.
He arched an eyebrow, a smirk making its way already. “You want me to fuck you with your clothes on, baby?”
“I preferred if you take them off.”
“Oh?” He boyishly grinned. “Is that so?”
You simply let yourself fall back against the covers, teasingly spreading your legs for him. You heard a sharp inhale, followed by a guttural moan. You were beginning to shimmy out of your shirt when suddenly Taehyung was already climbing on the bed, hovering over you. Hands firmly encased yours, pinning them above your head.
“You’re killing me,” he whispered it out against your lips, eyes slightly darker. “I’ll strip you naked, then. If that’s what my baby wants, then I’ll give it to her.”
My baby.
His hands ripped your shirt open and you gasped in surprise. Taehyung watched as your expression went from instant shock to what seemed to be a slightly frightening pissed off one in just seconds. Your hands were already beginning to shove him away, since that shirt happened to be a favorite and he just ripped it like nothing. “Dude, why?” your eyes had turned to slits and Taehyung knew he had fucked up.
So naturally, he quickly began to spill out, “I’m sorry, fuck. I’ll buy you another one, shit, I’ll buy you whatever the hell you want tomorrow, okay? My wallet is yours.”
Your pissed expression suddenly wavered into a tiny pout and he knew he was in the clear now. “Okay,” you slowly relented, rolling your eyes. “You’re definitely buying me this exact same shirt.”
“Deal.”
“Okay now undress me,” you whined out suddenly and he definitely had no problem in complying with that. You watched as Taehyung practically moaned at the sight of you in just a maroon coated corset. He didn’t even need to take off your skirt to notice the matching set, nor the garters that complimented you so fucking well.
The corset tied around your body, almost like a present to him.
“My little present, huh? Can I unwrap you now?”
“Please,” you impatiently whined out.  
He bent down where the end of the red silky string ended. With his teeth, he grazed your skin as he teasingly dragged it down, slowly unraveling you to him with such ease. You could feel his hot breath fan against your skin. He stopped suddenly, his gaze just wandering your body from head to toe in such awe. His attention to detail was definitely there since his artistic eyes were just brushing and tentatively painting your body with his gaze alone. It was when your hands were coming around to cover yourself when he snapped out of his stupor.
“Nope,” he kissed you, pinning your hands away from your body. “My art.”
“I—” you began, stunned.  
“So beautiful,” his lips were kissing your thoughts away. And then they were marking  away down the base of your throat, licking down on your collarbones, and then his lips immediately went to your nipple, tongue swirling momentarily around it. You squeezed your thighs, trying to find some kind of release as he puckered his lips and sucked. He was definitely enjoying himself since you found him humming along to whatever song was playing. Your brain was muffled by the sensation of his lips to recognize the song he was so keen on singing along to.
“So pretty,” he languidly purred out, a teasing grin laced on his pretty face. He was watching you, tongue swirling around your bud as you both gazed into each other’s eyes. You softly moaned, hands desperately beginning to search for his body. You just wanted to hold him, to feel him against your body, and to feel his lips grace yours so hotly and animalistic simply because you craved for him.
You’ve been yearning for him for so long that all you wanted was to feel him move inside of you.
“Taehyung, I need you to fuck me already,” you heaved out, your impatience getting the better of you.
However, Taehyung was quick to hover over you, pinning your arms against the bed as his lips grazed yours. He was dizzying you again, causing your head to spin from the proximity.  “I am appreciating my art. So you’re going to wait until I am fucking done, understand?”
You thickly swallowed, nodding. He didn’t take that as an answer though. “I didn’t hear you, love.”
“Yes,” you whimpered out and Taehyung’s grin just made your thighs a dripping mess.
He was already in between your legs again, tongue lapping up every single drop. Hands were firmly splayed against your hips, keeping you still as his puckered lips sucked on your clit without pausing. Oh, oh my fucking god. Taehyung was quick to catch on your mannerisms, figuring out the way your body worked with such ease simply because he already knew you inside and out.  Watching as you propped yourself on your elbows, mouth opening and closing frantically. These loud ass moans could rival a pornstar and Taehyung couldn’t breathe just from how hard his dick was.  
“Oh God,” you softly gasped out, your body jerking slightly at the movement of his fingers. Slick covered your ass and thighs as Taehyung pumped in two digits inside of you. He curled them inside of you and you knew his hands were more than capable of making you cum with such ease. You loved his hands and watching his fingers disappear inside of you so harshly, as if you were being used to his liking excited you more than you could think of.
“Oh fuck!” you choked out, fingers fisting the sheets beneath you. “Tae, I’m so close, so close, soclosesoclose.” You screwed your eyes shut, crying out as he replaced his fingers with his tongue. With a few strokes and a mild slap to your cunt, you jerked forward and came without a warning.
Oh fuck, so this is what you’ve been missing. Your breathing was in pants, legs shaking, and head spinning. Taehyung definitely knew what the fuck he was doing. And that fucker just laughed, hands massaging your thighs.
“You done for the night?” he teased you, boxy smile growing. “Wanna take a shower and go to bed, Grandma?”
“Fuck you,” you laughed as you managed to sit up. Your body was practically yearning for more at this rate. You just didn’t want to boost his goddamn ego. He was good, great even if he could make you see stars with just his hands and mouth. You wondered if you would pass out if he fucked you now.
“That’s the plan, baby,” he cheekily replied, winking at you even. You didn’t know what to do besides smacking your hand on his forehead and trying to push him away from between your legs.
“Oh no, no.” He tilted his head to make your hand slip down his face instead. He bit your palm and rasped out, “I gotta clean all of my mess first.”
With his hand, he motioned for you to lay down and you did as you were told.
“Tae,” you tugged at his hair, trying to get him on top of you instead, but Taehyung was busy kitty licking you clean, softly singing, “If you want it, you can have it.”
His mouth hovered over your sensitive bud, slightly nudging it with his tongue. You dug your heels into his bed, getting worked up all over again. Then he proceeded to challenge you, “You think I can make you cum again, baby?”
“Uh huh,” you nodded without thinking, chest beginning to raise and fall. His grin was wicked, yet charming. His mouth though kept slurping away the mess he had made out of you. He hummed against your hole and your legs quivered at the sensation.
“Tae, please,” you began, pushing him away with your hands.
He raised an eyebrow, tongue sweeping his bottom lip.  “Yeah?”
“I want you to fuck me already, goddamn it.” You exasperatedly told him.
“I think, I’ll fuck you with these on,” he smirked, fingers hooking underneath your red garter. Just the sensation of his fingers on your skin, ignited the anticipation inside of you.
Do whatever you please, just fuck me already.
His hands were already unbuckling his belt, whipping out before throwing it behind him. His gaze alone made you swallow thickly since the way he just looked at you told you what he was planning to do to you. Once his pants and underwear were gone, you were already meeting him on the edge of his bed, hands sliding up his arms.  You stood before him, smiling so widely.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” you sincerely uttered it out, finding yourself breathless once meeting his eyes.
He caressed your cheek, arm winding around your body to pull you flush against him. “If I could capture the essence of how beautiful you are, I wouldn’t share it to the world. Call me selfish for wanting you all for myself, but it took us three years to get here where I can finally call you mine.”
He was lifting you up once again, gently placing you down on his mattress. You could feel his cock press against your stomach and you simply welcomed him between your legs so naturally.
“You sure?” He asked once again, trying to reaffirm himself in a sense.
“Make me yours,” you said without hesitation, games and teasing falling off the table now. Your heart, mind, and body were in unison as you kissed him immediately to reassure him that it was okay.
As your mouth deliciously met his, he slowly slid into you. He swallowed your moan in his mouth, hips bottoming down against your body. A grunt emitted from his mouth as you squeezed around him, starting to milk his cock. His hands had gotten busy with your hair, fingers tangling themselves as he slowly began to push himself into you. All you could do was muffle your moans by biting down on his shoulder, nails digging into his side. He was in between your legs, hips sensually moving against your body. Finally. You could feel his cock move against you and your toes were curling at the sensation of having him finally fuck you dizzy like you always wanted. Your mind was whirling and your body sighed in contentment. His weight on top of yours, his hands roaming down your body, and the feeling of his soft pants emitting on to your lips was just too much. Taehyung was praying nonsense into air, he too was getting senseless and lost inside of you.
“Oh god,” you whimpered out softly, hot pants heavily emitting from your lips. His cock pulsed against your tight hole, driving shameless whimpers from you over and over until he was the only thing engraved in your mind.
His big hands were splayed against your thigh, fingertips slowly dragging down your skin, squeezing and marking to his liking. His mouth ghosted across your neck, sucking and grazing his teeth between your breasts.
“Yes, yes, fuck,” you moaned out, practically shivering against him. He was a quiet lover, except for an occasional grunt and soft moans that vibrated against your warm skin.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned out, his hips grinding against yours. He was gripping on to your thigh, fingers tugging at your garter so harshly that it started to slide down.
“I—Ah, ngh, Taehyung,” you were practically mewling. And Taehyung was relentless as he kissed you suddenly to swallow the whimpers emitting from your lips because he felt he was going to cum at the sounds you were making just for him.
“You’re so loud for me baby,” he cooed out, shamelessly praising you. “My baby is so responsive for me, so fucking hot.”
“Mhm,” you ate it all up, hands greedily marking his back as he slammed inside of you. His hips were rolling down, practically grinding against your pubic bone.
“Paint your pretty body with my hands,” he hotly sucked the tip of your earlobe, earning a sharp inhale from you as your response. “With my lips,” he continued, his lips softly ghosting your skin. “mark you and brand you with my name written all over you skin.”
“Yes, yes, do whatever you want,” you whimpered out, legs beginning to tremble.
He suddenly cupped you’re face rather firmly, momentarily slowing down his movements. As he slowly panted out each word, he rolled his hips, hitting your sensitive spot over and over again. “You’re mine, you hear me? No one can touch you but me.”
Done.
“I’m yours,” you shameless repeated it to him, eating up everything that was leaving his pretty mouth. “Ah, I, ah always been.”
“Yes?”
“Yes,” you instantly moaned out. Taehyung’s fingers were tracing your lips, watching as he fucked you silly and you responded to his demands so easily.
“Suck,” he demanded, and you happily obliged. With puckered lips, you swirled your tongue around his finger before sucking briefly.
“I know my baby can take more,” he cooed out, slowly deep throating his fingers down your throat. You gagged around his long, slender fingers, soon hollowing out your cheeks to fully take them in rather happily. He was quick in sliding them in and out, letting you do all the dirty work. And you happily obliged to his bidding, coating his pretty and delicate fingers with your saliva.
“Such a pretty, messy baby,” he groaned out at the sight of you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and with his pretty tongue, he licked and sucked to your echoing moans.
He used your headrest as leverage, hips grinding against yours as low, guttural moans left his pink lips. His eyes were screwed shut and you clenched so deliciously around him that he let out a small ‘oh fuckohfuckohfuck’ in return.
“I’m so close,” you cried out, legs wrapping around his waist. Your heels were digging into his skin, fingers pressing into every curve of his body. He moved your body against the bed, chest pressed against yours, hands beginning to intertwine with yours. Foreheads were pressed against each other’s and you both were breathing in the same heated, desperate for release of air into each other’s mouths.
“Yeah?” He panted out against your mouth, hips stuttering as you felt your body jerk. “Is my baby close?”
“Mhm,” you whimpered out again, back beginning to arch off the bed. Your heels were digging into his ass and tears began to prick your eyes from the intensity.
“Taehyung,” you cried out, eyes squeezing to a close. Legs had begun to tremble, toes were curling, and then your body stuttered and all you could feel was a hot blazing white overwhelming you.
Taehyung came with your name in his mouth and lips desperately finding yours. Your fingers instantly lost themselves into his hair, body melting and molding with his. He was still in between your legs, arms encasing you whole. His arms slid beneath yours, hands still tugging at your hair as you breathlessly continued to kiss him.
“I am so love with you, you know?” he suddenly sprung up on you, voice laced with so much emotion. His voice was breathy, and low. 
You simply gazed at him, happiness overwhelming you wholeheartedly.
“Taehyung, I am so in love with you,” you softly told him, your fingers tenderly caressing his face. “Since the moment you walked into my life, I have been in love with you.”
As he gazed at you with stars in his eyes, you remembered what he had told you the first day you had met him. How he had contradicted your viewing of how the stars seemed like background. In a sense, you felt as if you were the stars, sometimes covered by clouds, dying with time, and overlooked because you were always there. And then he came into your life and showed you that the stars were magnificently beautiful in every way. 
“Have you ever considered that the stars alone don’t need the sun and the moon? They are their own separate entity. They shine brightly with, or without them.”
“They are uniquely beautiful. And the whole romance between the sun and the moon is bittersweet since yeah they were once together in a sense, but they don’t complement each other. The stars do.”
“I love you, silly.” He softly reminded you once again, nose nudging yours so sweetly.
You brought him down towards you, kissing him as you confessed into his lips, “And I love you.”
It was during the time where the sun started peeking in through his blinds that you laid wide awake. Taehyung was sound asleep, arms around your body, lips on the crook of his neck, and you could feel his even breathing on your skin. His hair was all matted up from running your fingers through it and you were so fucking happy. A variety of colors painted your heart and you couldn’t wait until you got to see the masterpiece he had created inside of you. There was one thing standing in the way though, something that wasn’t exactly letting you fall asleep in his arms. You wondered if your best friend would set on fire that masterpiece that you called your heart once she found out you were with Taehyung.
3K notes · View notes