#two asks about your hatred? isn't that amazing how you went through all of those hoops yourself? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maplecornia · 3 years ago

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chapter 16

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 4.12K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: okay DAYUM i must've on something when writing this because BOOM is it SPOICY

He takes you to a gazebo, a secluded hidden porch behind a grove. You can't see much through the shower, but you can tell that it's exquisitely made. The faded paint on the wood adds an antique look to the strong structure. The wood is molded and manipulated to create designs around the gazebo. Designs, and curves that are heavily accented by the vegetation growing around it.

As you draw nearer, you marvel at the way the rain manages to make it look even more gorgeous, the fat drops joining together and dripping off of every side making it seem as though there were tiny miniature waterfalls made just for it.

The trees around the gazebo shield the wind and the rain, so it's warm here, a small shelter within the storm. The scent of wet wood fills your nostrils, mixing with the aroma of wet grass and bark from outside. It reminds you of days spent on the porch back when you were a child. On either side of the gazebo, secured immaculately against the walls, there are two long benches of mahogany.

Taehyung carries you to the one on the right side, setting you down softly. You let yourself down easily, your hands trailing off his skin and resting at your sides once you are secure. Taehyung tries to ignore the way it sends shivers down his spine, and clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck before pulling away.

Luckily, you are too distracted admiring the bench beside you.

The wood isn't splintery like most; it's smooth, no doubt coated with a thin sheet of resin so that it would look nice and polished. You let out a small gasp at the gazebo’s amazing artistic structure, praising whoever created it.

Though simple, it’s very detailed and beautiful.

You run your hands over it briefly before reluctantly pulling away and removing the many things you carry on your back. Taehyung helps you out, taking your coat without a word and carrying it over to the left bench, where he lays it out to dry. You remove the backpack and satchel, setting them down beside you.

Turning to him, you open your mouth to try and catch his attention. But as soon as you catch sight of him, you falter, your mouth going dry.

With his back to you, Taehyung has removed his hat, shaking out his drenched hair before setting it down on top of your coat. He then proceeds to remove his sweatshirt, pulling it over his head, and plopping it down next to your drying coat. However, it sticks to the T-shirt beneath and he manages to pull that halfway over his head before it drops.

Giving you a perfect view of his toned back, slick with rainwater.

You swallow hard at the sight, the image of the rainwater accenting and highlighting those perfectly robust muscles annoyingly refusing to erase itself from your mind.

As he begins to turn around, you have to look away, praying to God that he doesn't notice how red you're turning.

Thankfully, he doesn't, but he does look at you in confused amusement before his gaze travels to his backpack you hold tightly in your lap. He smirks, glancing at you.

“Is that for me?” his question startles you, and you jump a bit before looking up at him.

For a moment, you have no idea what he’s talking about, and you look up at him with wide-eyed bewilderment. He widens his eyes too, a bit mockingly, before gesturing towards the backpack. Still confused, you look down at your lap and start with the realization.

He wants his backpack.

Damn girl, what did you think he was asking for?

Embarrassment rising with a hot flame, you nod meekly, holding it out to him. Smiling, he takes it out of your hands, turning around to set it on the bench as he rummages through it, making sure none of the rain got on any precious items or papers. As he does it reminds you that you should probably do the same, and as you turn to your satchel, you groan a bit at the thought. You know things are bound to be bad there, and at the thought the dread grows deeper in your gut, twisting like a cruel knife.

Sighing, you slide the satchel over to you and place it in your lap, before unzipping it and looking at the hell which befalls you.

There’s the shoe you put in the bag rather haphazardly, and you take it out now, beating off the dirt and dust gathered from the ground. You use the bench, making a hollow beating sound against the wood. Tae glances over his shoulder, a bit surprised, chuckling with amusement as he sees the sight. You don't notice the glance before he turns away, just continue your task until you feel satisfied that it is finished. Nodding a bit, you place the shoe beside you on the bench and turn back to the bag.

Taehyung sets down his backpack, and turns to you, letting out a soft sigh. You don't notice as he watches you with unveiled amusement, chuckling softly at each facial expression you wear so carelessly on your sleeve. He walks over to you and sits down softly on the empty bench seat. You're too focused on your task, so when he glances over your shoulder to peer at what you're doing, you have no recollection of it.

As your hands pass over your sketchbook, your stomach churns with despair. Heart pounding with foreboding, you set your satchel carefully on the wooden plated floor, pulling it out. You take a deep breath setting it in your lap before opening it into your world of wonder and creativity.

Beside you, Taehyung takes in every drawing, every sketch, struck silent by awe and amazement. He finds every single creation, every movement your pencil made, every line, to be beautiful. Almost exquisite. He can see how much care and preparation you put into every idea, even the ones you hardly thought about at all.

Each one holds a purpose, a story behind it.

He wishes that he could look through each one for a bit longer. He wishes that you wouldn't flip through them as though they were useless or too ugly to look at, mere pages you have already seen, already read. Because he hasn't seen them, he hasn't read them, he hasn't been able to experience this particular part of you.

He hasn't had the chance to.

You hardly notice the glance or the change in attitude beside you. You're too distracted by the next page you turn over.

Your recent sketch.

The one you've been working on this whole day.

Ruined.

It received the worst from the rain, fat blotches of dried rainwater seeping into the paper, mixing with the pencils' soft touch. Blending the light shades with the dark shades, and causing it to exude through the protective barrier the thick, constructive paper has and into the next page. It's still a bit damp and as you look at the distorted picture, you find it growing blurrier and blurrier by the second.

And this time, it’s not because of the rain.

As the first tear falls in disappointment, you give a slight start at the sight of it creating another blot on your page.

You hadn’t noticed that you were crying.

Frantically, you quickly wipe the trail off of your cheek and dab at the tear stain on the page before taking a shaky breath. It doesn't help. It just causes the lump in your throat to turn tighter and the tears to begin pushing at the backs of your eyes, longing to break free.

Maybe your real frustration isn’t about the picture at all.

Maybe it's about everything that you have kept inside.

Maybe it’s about him.

But you refuse to let that be the truth.

You said you were fine.

You have to be fine.

Anger and impediment rising behind your tears, you grit your teeth as they escape the cage you have hid them behind for so long. Hot tears of pain and vexation pouring over your cold cheeks, you take the page, wrapping your hands spitefully around the exposition as though that would exude your vendetta. Pulling it frustratingly out of your sketchbook, you shake with aggravation at the sight of it.

Blaming it for your fate, blaming it for your weakness when you know it’s your fault.

It’s always your fault.

Swallowing hard, you take a breath before crumbling it in your hands. Hopelessness gripping you like a parasite, you exhale shakily, more tears dotting your vision as they threaten to spill over on top of everything else.

“Stop!”

You freeze as his hands cover yours, immobilizing you. The cage closing once more, and your tears slowing their destructive path, you slowly turn to him in shock.

You had forgotten he was there.

Taehyung looks at you in concern. His eyes are filled with worry, pain, empathetic sorrow. He purses his lips together, carefully unfolding the tight grip you have around your crumpled-up paper, but never letting go of your eyes.

He uncurls your fingers one by one, his nimble touch careful and gentle against your skin, soothing. With just one touch, he erases any worries you have had before, making them seem like a far-off dream instead of a recent scar. He only looks away once and that is to see the crumpled up piece of paper in your hands, as he slowly takes it out, and removes his hands from yours. He begins to uncrumple it and you lower your eyes to it, your heart hurting at the sight of what you've done.

It was all for nothing.

You swallow hard, fighting the urge to let your tears spill over once again.

You watch as he uncrumples the piece of paper, smoothing it out on his leg. He sighs as he sees it, and you watch him with wide miserable eyes. Eyes that search for reasons why. Even now you're nervous as he stares at it, taking it in.

“Why did you do that?” he asks softly before turning back to the paper and giving it a small, sad smile. “It was beautiful.”

You sigh, looking away and at your folded hands.

Why do you still care? It shouldn’t matter anymore.

“It's ruined.” You say, coldly, and his head snaps to you. You swallow hard, giving him a small smile, but you know that it doesn't reach your eyes.

“It was all for nothing.” You whisper, under your breath, your voice breaking at the end. It doesn’t help that he is looking at you as though your words wound him. You take a shaky breath before turning away and leaning down to zip up your satchel.

“No, it’s not.” He says softly but firmly beside you. You scoff before rising and turning on him swiftly.

“What do you--” you falter as you raise your eyes to him, startled by how close he is to you. He’s not even looking at you, his gaze is completely focused on your drawing as he holds it almost devotedly within his fingers.

“Look.” He instructs you, giving you the smallest glance and you let out a small exhale of breath. You can see his slight smirk as he looks away, and you know that he saw your little panic attack at how close he was. You wait a bit before, almost reluctantly, you lean close, jostling his shoulder with yours.

“This might not be what you intended by the sketch, but it's what it made me feel.” He explains, and you nod slightly. He takes a slight pause, softly shaking his head before continuing, one thought churning in his mind.

She doesn’t know, does she?

“You made her look like she was in pain, as though she lost something, or was trying to save something and failed. The anguish and agony on her face can stir something in your heart, something that can't exactly be described. It was as though just looking at it...my heart was being torn out of my body, broken, and then put back as though nothing had happened. As though everything would be okay as long as it was returned to me, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. Everything seemed worse. Now I knew her pain, now I knew her heartache, and there was no way to cure it. No way to fix what I had broken. But that’s not all. It was as though she were alone, as though she were lost. As though there were no one left to show her the way.”

He breaks off at the end, as though gathering his thoughts, or too overwhelmed with emotion to say anything else.

You glance at him as he pauses, an unspeakable expression on your face.

You made him feel that?

How could he know so much without knowing anything at all?

“I know you think that the rain destroyed it, but I think it needed that extra touch. I think that that’s what it was missing. It adds a faded look, a sort of detachment, something that expresses her self-hatred, her pain, her anguish. It's that one moment where nothing makes sense, where the whole world is completely and utterly messed up. Where you're….” He trails as though searching for the right words to say, but you already know them.

“Lost.” You finish for him.

Bewitched, you reach out and touch the soft paper as though seeing it through new eyes. He looks at you, a bit shocked at how you read his mind, but it quickly turns into a soft smile and he nods, looking back to the sketch.

“Yeah, and you’re lucky because the rain didn't get rid of the features on the girl's face, nor the pile of bones she’s kneeling on, so the message still comes across. Even after you crumpled the paper up, the texture still manages to add a sort of obscure and sinister look which deepens the agony she is experiencing.” He says, nudging you a bit accusingly, still not happy that you crumpled it the way you did. You nudge him back, chuckling softly before glancing up at him from underneath your lashes.

“Keep it. If not for yourself, then keep it for me.” He says, biting his bottom lip as he holds you within that alluring gaze.

“Why?” you ask, looking from it to him, still a bit unsure.

“Because…” He falters, finding it hard to explain his attachment to the drawing. As though he's searching for a way to voice his emotions.

You search his face, trying to find the secret and unveil it. It's as though he’s put up a shield to block all his emotions from you. A hidden mask over his face makes it near to impossible to read him.

“Does it matter? I mean I don't want you to throw away such a beautiful piece of work. Even through the rain, some things are still beautiful. Sometimes even more so than they were before.” He turns to you, offering you the ripped page. After a moment of hesitation, you take it from him, exhaling a small breath.

Maybe he is right, maybe these flaws, these damages are what make it special.

“Okay.” You agree, giving him a small mischievous smile over your shoulder. “But on only one condition.”

He nods, holding his hand over his heart and one in the air beside him as though he were pledging a promise. Smiling, you high five his hand, wrapping your fingers around it and smirking up at him as his eyes open and he looks down at you in amusement. He raises an eyebrow at your expression, tilting his head in mock interest.

“Well?” he asks, leaning his head down a bit to yours as if trying to belittle or intimidate you. “Name your poison.”

“You have to sign it.” You say, pulling your hand away from his and extending your pinky finger instead. "Promise?"

His hand hovers in the air for a moment at your absence before he links his pinky finger with yours and smiles.

“Is that all?” he asks, and you nod, biting the inside of your cheek with excitement. He chuckles softly before finishing your promise, touching the two of your thumbs together in a simple link. "Then I promise."

You look at him from above your linked fingers, and when his eyes meet yours you can't help but let out a delighted laugh. You pull away, holding the paper towards him, and raise your eyebrow.

"Well?" you inquire, and he chuckles, shaking his head slightly, as he whips out a pen from his pocket.

“Do you just have those wherever you go?” you ask incredulously, and he rolls his eyes. He quickly signs the back of the paper before handing it to you. You take and turn it over to look at his signature, still a bit wet from the ink. He pockets the pen before looking at you and tapping the signed paper.

“Now you definitely can't lose it, little Michelangelo.” He instructs with superiority, and you scoff a bit at the nickname before turning to look at him dubiously.

“Why not?” He meets your gaze with those mysterious eyes, eyes that could find the key to your soul if they tried hard enough, and you try your hardest to ignore the way they melt your heart.

“Because now there’s a part of me on it.” He says quite simply even when the words aren't simple at all. You stare at him, uncertain. Unsure of what to say, unsure of how to react.

So you stare.

Your heart is beating so fast, but it's like you can't even feel it at all. You hardly notice as the two of you seem to draw closer and closer to each other. As though you were two magnets who are drawn together by some invisible string which neither one of you can see, but can certainly feel.

At this moment, you notice everything about him.

The way his eyelashes curl at the corner of his eye, making them seem almost catlike in their almond shape. The way the rain has made his skin look even softer, even smoother, how he seems to radiate beauty. The way his eyelids have this soft shadow around them, so soft that you know it can't possibly be makeup, but still noticeable enough to make his eyes pop out. This close, you can see the small copper flecks, the ones that turn his eyes that amber color. The ones that sparkle in the sunlight every time it rests on his face.

You see the new things too, things you never realized before.

Like how his hair slowly curls around his temple.

Or how every time he looks at you, his eyelids slowly lower and he regards you with a hazy look. A look that makes your heart beat faster than you thought possible.

Or how whenever he does his silly habit of licking his lips, it turns them more red and noticeable and…

A honk of a car horn in the far distance startles you and you immediately break apart, the small connection vanishing as well.

You stand, dropping the sketch securely on top of your satchel, and wander to the other side of the gorgeous gazebo, the pain in your ankle almost fading completely away. You smile to yourself at the sight of the car there, narrowing your eyes as you try to identify it. You don't know much about cars, but from what you can see it looks small and black. Not small enough to be a sports car, but just small enough to be considered….a minivan perhaps. Maybe a Suburban….a car that reminds you of the ones that BTS use…

Your eyes widening in realization, you turn to look at Taehyung.

It can't be.

He’s not looking at you, he’s staring at the screen of his phone, mouthing a string of curse words. As he glances up and sees your expression, he swallows hard, almost guiltily. He opens his mouth to say something, but the car honks once more and you turn around as Tae stands swiftly, your heart beating fast at your newfound analogy.

He didn't tell anybody he was leaving….did he?

Well, why would he?

He was on the bus for heaven's sake, you should have known he was out there without anybody knowing. If any member of BTS wanted to go anywhere, they certainly wouldn't travel by community bus. They couldn't, for fear of being recognized.

You want to kick yourself for not thinking of this sooner. Instead of being rational, you were too distracted by the idol to think of anything else. What could the people at BigHit possibly be thinking right now?

That he's been kidnapped?

That he's run off?

Or perhaps it's something worse. Besides, how much trouble would you be in if they got the wrong idea? Especially considering your new position…

You're so stupid.

Taehyung brushes past you, hurrying over to the bench and quickly packing his stuff. He pulls his sweatshirt over his head and secures his cap as you give him a perplexed look.

“Taehyung--” you start just as he pulls your coat off of the bench and turns to you, his eyes intense and filled with urgency. He places the coat around your shoulders and stares deep into your eyes, his frantic panic clear on his face.

“We have to go.” He hisses, brushing past you and pulling your satchel out from under the bench. He gathers the stuff you had out drying, and places them into the satchel carefully, along with your sketch. Frustrated, you shove your arms into the coat and sigh.

“Go where? In case you haven't noticed, there’s a storm happening outside. Besides, who is that anyway?” you snap, annoyed at yourself and a bit at him as well. He shakes his head, zipping up your satchel and turning to you. You can see that he’s piqued as well, maybe even frustrated and you wonder why.

He’s the one who wasn't being safe.

Who knows how many people are out there that want to hurt him? Or how many fans he has that would notice him even with the cap on his head? He was putting himself in jeopardy and to what?

To ride on the bus?

That can't be it.

“I don't care.” He says, placing the satchel over your shoulders as well and taking you by the hand. “We have to go.”

You were right when you said his reason wasn't to ride on the bus.

He left without saying anything to anybody...

When he wasn't done with his day of work...

When he still had many things on his schedule...

He did all of that just so that he could meet you.

Just so that he could tell you that he heard you sing, give you the flash drive of your voice, the flash drive he still holds in his pocket. And yet...he still hasn't found the right way to tell you. The right way to give it to you, the right way to say what he wanted to say.

That when he heard you sing, when he heard your voice, he felt as though he wasn't alone. He felt as though there was someone else out there who understood. Someone different from Jimin, from BTS…

Someone who could feel what he felt, and understand who he was.

That your voice aroused those emotions in his heart, in a way that had never happened to him before.

How you have a gift, and it was the gift that brought him to you.

As he drags you behind him, darting towards the entrance, you give out a slight cry of surprise stumbling after him with your bruised ankle.

However, he doesn't get that far, stopping in his tracks after a few steps.

You don't notice, staring at your feet and begging them to cooperate, so you run smack dab into his back, letting out a small shriek. You pull back, rubbing your nose and glaring at him, but the look on his face stops you in your tracks.

He’s frozen on the spot, his eyes wide with panic. You furrow your brow, before turning to look at what he’s so fixated on and nearly pee your pants. You curse under your breath at the sight, looking up to the sky as though God could help you in this situation.

What have you gotten yourself into this time?

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: pretty spoicy no? (¬‿¬) the PART 2 version

chapter 17 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

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Hello! You're super talented 🥺 anyway if it isn't a bother I'd like to request a story about Belphie kidnapping MC to stop them from leaving devildom. Like perhaps MC waking up somewhere they don't recognise and Belphie saying to them he needs more time with MC

Thank you so much!! I hope you enjoy your request ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

The thing you missed the most while you stayed in the realm of the devils was the sun. The beautiful, warm, shining son. Rays of sunlight dancing over your skin, illuminating your day, shimmering in the eyes of the people you talked to. Waking up and not being clouded in darkness was naturally for you, and yet, you gave away the comforts of the sun in favor of staying the year with the demon brothers.

All had been well. You managed to complete your year with many fond memories and grades to show off with, considering you were the first of two humans to ever attempt a year there. But if there had been anything that had made it hard to go through with these successes, it would have been the darkness. There had been weeks that thoroughly depressed you, waking up and going to bed while it was dark, never being able to sunbath, and taking vitamines to withstand the lack of sunlight - it had been though.

However, now that it was over, you had mixed feelings. You loved the brothers, and you had an amazing time with them, and yet, you were so happy to go home to your ‘real’ family, your own bed, and your sunshine. It was the last night now that you’d sleep in this whimsical house full of demons and ghosts. You retired after way too many rounds of board games, laughing and celebrating with the people that had grown so close to you this last year. When you’d wake up, it would all be over, but you looked back at it with tears and a smile.

That was until you really did wake up.

If you believed Diavolo’s words, you should have been sent back in your slumber, quiet and peaceful. But you expected your eyes to hurt when you finally opened them; the light flooding your room should have made you sensitive. In your dream, you had already seen the sun again, walked the streets around your home, and explored the sceneries you had been away from for so long.

What you didn’t expect was to be in the same dim light as you were no matter where you went in Devildom, flames on candles being the only thing keeping the darkness away from engulfing you. You could move your eyelids, but when you tried to heavy your body up, your hands didn’t budge. Slowly, you awoke fully from your nightly slumber, glancing around what you could see. Not even your head would move, and a slow panic rose as you noticed that you laid face down in some kind of fabric, fearing you might suffocate if you breathed it in.

But it didn’t come so far, luckily. Your body was swayed around, a deep breath being let out from above you. “Are you awake already?” a voice asked, sleepily. More fabric shifted as the person the voice belonged to rubbed their eyes before hooking their arms under yours again. “It’s still so early...”

You were pulled up, coming face to face with the person you now realized you had been sleeping on and held by. A smile crept on Belphie’s face as your eyes widened, surprise and shock to see him. “Good morning ~ Slept well?” he asked, and you opened your mouth, unsure if you could actually speak.

“Belphie? But... I should be back at home...”

Shaking his head slowly, it irritated you that his smile never ceased to be, one hand coming up to brush over your head tenderly. “You are home, remember? The House of Lamentation is your home.”

“No! I mean... my real home, back in the human world.”

A tiny pout finally replaced his soft expression, Belphie merely humming in thought before you felt him move under you. You felt so incredibly heavy, but despite him not being a muscle-bound hunk, Belphie managed to flip you over just fine. You sink into the comforts of the soft attic bed, pillows surrounding you while Belphegor climbed on top of you.

“I couldn’t let you go yet,” he announced, very straight-forward. His expression shifted to what you thought could be a feeling of hurt. It was incredibly hard to say if those were his sincere emotions, as you had seen this expression both in situations where he lied to you and such where he had been sincere. “I barely had time with you! We’ve only known each other for the last few months of the year, while everyone had you around for the full year! You understand that, right?”

He reached for your hand, lifting it as if it was easy. For you, it was such a damn struggle to even curl your fingers, but Belphegor had no such problems. Bringing your hand to his face, he caressed his own cheek using you, let your fingertips slide over his lips, kissing them in passing. It was bizarre. You two had gotten along well after the initial problems that were caused. You’d even say you two had been close. But this was different.

“I-... I should go talk to Lucifer about this. Can you help me? It’s so hard to move.”

Immediately, the previously shut eyes of his opened, a piercing glare staring down at you and sending shivers down your spine. This, too, you were familiar with. The hatred in his gaze; you had seen it before a good handful of time. “There is no Lucifer here. We’ll stay here as long as we want with no one bothering us.”

“Isn’t this the attic?” you asked, looking around unnerved by Belphie’s behavior now. “It may be,” he admitted, but before your eyes, you saw the walls change, the room converting into... nothingness. “Or not.” Grinning mischievously, Belphie gave your palm another peck with his lips before settling it against his chest.

“It’s convenient to use a room you know, but we are somewhere that only we can be. Somewhere no one will find us. Where we can be all by ourselves.”

You felt his heartbeat under your hand, rapid, quick bumps. It felt like his heart was ready to explode out of his chest any second. “Belphie... That all... We...” It was hard to find the words to say anything. You knew how it was to get him angry, and you didn’t want that. But this was wrong! You wanted to go home! Your time with the brothers was over.

“Tell you what,” he picked up your sentence. Letting go of your hand suddenly, it plummeted to your side, hitting your stomach and his thigh on it’s way down. “Let’s do everything that we missed out on while I was locked in the attic, and then, we’ll see about returning ‘home’, alright?” You wanted to say no, shake your head, but the only thing you could do in your compromised state was nod hesitantly, Belphie leaning forward.

“Let’s start with... let’s say a hundred kisses for every kiss you gave my brothers?”

There was no time to refuse and no possibility to keep him from doing as he pleased. When Belphie leaned down, you simply squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that this would be over quickly, and it would be enough for him to let you go.

But in this realm, where only you two existed, much more darkness awaited you than even Devildom had to offer. Darkness from all around you, darkness from his shadow. And most importantly, darkness from deep inside Belphegor that you hadn’t been aware of back at the time where you still thought you could escape back into your world.

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mickmarstookmyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Life's a Sick Joke pt 16

Would like to start from the beginning? Here is Part 1!

Pairing: Mick Mars x Reader

A/N: Good morning/night/afternoon, you beautiful creatures! I know this story hasn't been really active recently but here you go the next chapter. There isn't much action in it, although it contains emotions and deep conversations. I hope you will like it. Stay safe, drink water and listen to music louder than hell!

16. Being There For You

After you got Mick from jail, which was pretty hilarious regarding that he never did anything to be in there, not even this time. He was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. He was still angry with you for not helping him immediately, but you let him fume a bit.

You were concentrated on something else. It was finally the day your brother would be out so you intended to get him, too. You seriously were tired of getting everyone out of jail. You were driving the car, staring at the road, your fingers drumming on the wheel along the music; Accept's Balls to the Wall was on and you couldn't help but silently sing along.

"I'm glad you have the energy to sing, but I couldn't sleep last night since someone let me rot in a fucking cell!" Mick snapped and you turned the music down. You took a long breath not to say anything you would regret.

"Mick, you only spent 6 hours there. You could've slept while waiting you know. And don't be angry with me, I wasn't the one who got you there." You arched a brow still not believing he was mad at you instead of Tommy.

"Speaking of, I can't wait to slap drummer. With a chair." He barked looking out the window. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh on you, I'm just grumpier than usual for not sleeping."

"It's okay, I understand." You were smirking at him. He placed his hand on your right hand which you rested on the gear shift. "But you have to wait with your revenge until next Monday. You know we have the whole week off."

"Finally. We can be alone for a bit. Without anyone harassing us." He stated, closing his eyes and leaning back his head. You bit your lip down fearing his reaction to what you were about to say.

"Umm...but I hope it's okay if Dylan will be around for a bit. Or I can go back to our old apartment and let you rest at your house. I would like to spend some time with Dylan before we hit the road again." You turned in the next corner after looking in both directions. It felt like ages until Mick said something.

"Babe, it's totally okay. Your brother needs you. And he won't bother me unless he runs in the hallway screaming and almost naked smashing everything in sight." You chuckled knowing exactly whom he was talking about. Luckily, Dylan has never acted like that. Alright, maybe a few months ago but that wasn't the true him. Sharon exclaimed that he was improving and was on a good path. You had every reason to believe her so you weren't so worried about being with him in one room again. On the other hand, you were thinking of how jail time might break him. He was always so strong, although terrible things happen to people in jail who spend months in.

"I'm sure he won't cause any harm. So you truly don't have any excuse to have him in your house for the week?" You asked him cautiously for reassurance. To be honest, you were the scared one. You were scared as hell since you have never been to his home. You got together during the camping you brought them on and since then you weren't home or nearby even. The tour and then the hospital, the travel to your sister.

"(Y/N), there are a few guest rooms so he can crash at my place if he wants to. Or if you think environment change is the last thing he needs right now, we can bring back him to your shared apartment." He said warming your heart how kind he was with you, with your family. How much he cared for your well-being. Your eyes welled up and you got rid of the tears by wiping them away with the top of your hand. "(Y/N), what is it?" He stiffened thinking through what he has just said. "Did I say something?"

"Yes. But nothing bad, don't worry." He relaxed a bit but still couldn't understand why you were crying. "It's just, in my whole life I only got hatred, stating with our parents. I always I was just giving and giving until nothing remained for me. I started to drain out from goodness but kept going as Isabelle and Dylan needed me. It's not that I don't love them or they don't deserve it. I didn't have anyone I could rely on, or just have a nice decent talk about what is bothering me. And after meeting you, I thought I hit jackpot. And still, you keep amazing me with your kindness, selflessness, and your big heart." You exhaled when you finished your monologue making Mick speechless again. In the meantime, you parked the car in the prison's parking lot and stopped the car. Your hands rested in your lap playing with the key. Mick got out of the car and closed the door after himself before leaning on the car with his back. You were truly afraid. You hesitated at first but then got out of the car and walked next to him, leaning on the car. You didn't say a word. About Mick, he was fighting back tears, his chest rose and fell rapidly and you couldn't help but notice his jaws were tightened.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there for you." He begun, finally breaking the silence. Although, what he said made your brows knitted.

"Mick, we hadn't met, you wouldn't have been able to do much about it." You leaned your head on his shoulder making him calm.

"I know, but it's so unfair. You deserve the world, (Y/N). And if someone dares to tell me otherwise I will beat the shit out of them. And may your parents rot in hell, what they did to you is unforgivable. And I'm admiring you, (Y/N), for being able to smile and keep making everyone happy after all those horrible things happened to you. You are a survivor and I have fallen in love with you madly, deeply, and undeniably." You looked up at him, feeling lost in his blue eyes. You cracked a smile and hugged him tightly, filling your lungs with his scent. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, his arms resting on your waist pulling you closer.

"I love you, too, Mick. With every cell of my body." You whispered. You didn't know how quickly you found each other. You completed each other, you were partners, not just lovers. You were soulmates. A loud screeching noise broke the moment making both of you look towards the source of the sound. It was the huge rusty gates opening. Your heart was hammering and you were grabbing Mick's hand strongly.

"Hey, easy, Tiger." He whispered in your ear making you loosen your grip. At first, you only saw guards but then you noticed your brother in the distance. You were grinning and couldn't believe he was finally free after months. When the guards went back inside and the gates were closed Dylan looked in your way and dropped his bag on the ground. You let go of Mick and started running towards him. When you two met you jumped on him almost making him fell.

"Hey, (Y/N)." He greeted and spun you around as you were still hanging on him like a monkey.

"Hey." You could only say this. You were so happy to have him in your arms again. The real Dylan. Not the one who hurt you or left you alone. This was the Dylan you knew in your whole life. The caring, the funny, the goofy.

"I would love to carry you like this all the way home but it's either that you eat too much recently or I am out of shape." You chuckled letting him go. You were on your feet again when Mick approached you and you saw Dylan bow his head from embarrassment and guilt.

"Hello, Dylan." He said casually. No emotions, just words.

"Hi, Mick." He muttered still not looking in his eyes. He balled his fists then loosened them again by his side. He was still battling. It broke your heart seeing him like this. "I would like to apologize. For all the things I have said and done. For acting crazy and almost hitting you in the face. I wasn't myself. And I would like to thank you for taking care of (Y/N) when I couldn't. It means a lot to me." He offered his hand to Mick as an apology. Mick glanced at you and after you nodded he shook Dylan's hand.

"Apology accepted." He gave a half-smile and winked. He knew it wasn't Dylan's fault, well, mostly. He inherited anger issues from your parents, but he should've asked for help. "So, are you hungry?"

"Hell yes. The food was horrible in there." He complained, dropping his bag on his shoulder lazily. "Sadly, they didn't serve (Y/N)'s famous spaghetti Bolognese. You could say, I'm craving that."

"I didn't know a chef lives inside you." Mick laughed arching a brow.

"I haven't had the chance to show it." You crossed your arms in front of your chest like a shield.

"Then it's high time. So, Dylan, it's your decision. Where would you like to go?" Mick asked. Dylan's eyes googled from the shock but then went back to normal.

"I'm sure your kitchen is much bigger than ours. Right, (Y/N)?" You burst into laughter from that statement because you knew damn well how small that kitchen was and barely one person could fit there, not even three.

"Then, it's settled then."

∆

"Woah, you didn't mention you live in a fucking castle." You admired the beautiful house which was settled in a forest far away from any human. It was definitely something Mick appreciated.

"It's not much. But come inside." You got your bags from the back where Dylan stood.

"Are you nervous?" He asked noticing you were biting your lip and struggling to breathe properly. And the son of a bitch was smirking. Righ in your face.

"Fuck you, Dylan." He just laughed and took the bag from your hand. Mick has already opened the door and was waiting for you.

"My lady." He gestured with his hands, letting you go first. When you stepped into the house your eyebrows were nearly invisible. When you thought about Mick and his personality you were sure he lived in a dark castle, like vampires or just a dirty apartment. You expected everything but not this. The living room was bigger than your apartment, it was light and neat. There were two huge black leather sofas in front of the fireplace with a glass table between them. The walls were white and pure.

"Like it?" Mick asked smirking and wandering his eyes in the room.

"It's freaking beautiful." You stated.

"Bloody hell, this is awesome." Dylan had almost the same reaction as you.

"This way." Mick said, you and Dylan followed him. "So this is the kitchen, I know it's not much but I hope it is big enough. And the bedrooms are upstairs.

"(Y/N), don't droll. So nasty." Dylan joked earning a scoff from you. You had to admit, this was the most fascinating kitchen you have ever seen. You quickly wiped your mouth but there was nothing.

"You are nasty!" You elbowed him in the stomach when Mick didn't pay attention earning a groan from Dylan.

"You haven't changed a bit." He murmured, trying to keep up with you.

"So, Dylan, your room will be at the end on the right. You will find towels in the wardrobe, too." He noted.

"Thanks, man. I think I will go, I don't want to bother." He winked and headed to the room but before he entered he winked and gave you a thumb up.

"Sometimes, I feel the urge just to choke him. Just a little bit." You said. Mick chuckled and took your hand into his. Butterflies in your stomach kept reminding you that you were in his house and apart from Dylan, only the two of you were there. No Nikki, no Tommy, no Vince. No concerts, no shouting, screaming, or breaking glasses. Just quiet, peace, and you.

"I'm pretty curious about your reaction so close your eyes and don't open until I say so." You nodded and did as told. He helped you not to hit anything. "Okay, now you can open it."

You cautiously and slowly opened your eyes from the sudden brightness. Huge windows were in charge of the light. However, many other things drew your attention. At least, 10 guitars were hanging on the wall along with pieces of vinyl. He knew guitars were your weakness and he was right there smiling from seeing your reaction. You were speechless.

"Dear Satan, this is beautiful." You held up your hand to hide your open mouth.

"I knew, you would like it!" He snickered and showed you around in his room. There were some bookshelves, tapes, and other types of vinyl as well. You noticed some family pictures as well. "Yeah, well, Susie hasn't changed a bit."

"These photos are adorable." You put down the frame and turned to him. "So, do you have any plans for the day?"

"What about your famous Spaghetti Bolognese Dylan was talking about?" He asked pulling you closer his eyes not leaving yours. You could feel his breath on your skin and his hands on your hips. "Or we could let him rest a bit and try if we fit in the bed?"

"Oh, I thought I would get a guest room as well." You joked earning a small laugh from him.

∆

"Gosh, how much I missed this!" Dylan was filling his mouth with your spaghetti and it appeared that Mick loved it, too. You were holding a glass full of wine and were watching them.

"It's nothing special, actually. Just some secret ingredients, that's all." You noted. "However, I'm glad that criminals love my food." You added while taking a sip.

"What?" Dylan inquired with raised brows. "Don't- don't tell me you were arrested, too. Cause I won't believe it."

Mick rolled his eyes and kept his attention on his plate.

"It wasn't me, alright? And can we just forget about it?"

"Then welcome to the club, man. Don't worry, you are not bad. She also sat in there for a few days." He tilted his head towards you making you choke on your wine.

"Nothing surprises me anymore." Mick chuckled shaking his head.

That day, you felt loved. By Mick, and by Dylan. Both are a different kind of love, but you felt special. For a long period, it was the first day, you felt safe. No fire, no drunk people trying to flirt with you, no drugs. Of course, only for a week. Then you will have to go back, but first, you wanted the enjoy every minute of being with Mick and your brother.

∆

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secretsocietyofstuff · 3 years ago

Text

The

Egsa (old english | scary)

Spell (old english | news)

Ok.

The Biblical Patriarch Abraham (called the father of nations) had one wife and one sister- the same person- and several concubines and mistresses- each of whom begot him many children. Now, when these children grew up- he gifted them each with magical secrets and one by one sent them east as magi to gather initiates for the creation of Mystery Schools.

We know that, with the exception of Issac, the sons and grandsons of Abraham made their way through India, and even further into the Middle East where Abraham is credited as being the progenitor of Islam as is described in the Quran, though the religion did not officially begin until Mohammeds involvement many centuries after Abraham sent his sons away.

So, when during the birth of the Nazari

in Bethlehem he was visited by '3 foreign Magi from the East,' it takes a special significance in my mind that itches and begs to be tussed out.

That is why I am writing this.

It should be noted that there was never any mention in the original texts of exactly how many Magi attended his birth. It is thought that the authors were drunk. No. It is thought that the authors simply assumed that since there were three gifts..there must have been 3 magi to deliver them. Probably wrong. A supposed eye witness account of the magis journey popped up 300 years after the fact claiming that there were 12 or more traveling in the party.

This lends credence to the idea that this was an entire magical order (or at least its senior brethren;) that this order was almost certainly seeded by one of Abrahams sons or grandsons; and that they traveled not only to attend the Nazaris birth but also to examine the god-child and make sure it was of satisfactory health and temperament. The mother would have been looked at by a normal physician.

There are so many thing in just these two stories alone that I want to share with everybody. Things that would make a Southern Baptist stone my ass to death. Things that would make a Methodist very seriously consider leaving the church to worship Satan.

People just don't realize how fragmented the testaments have become. It was intended as a living document that existed in space but outside of time. There was a reason that the original Hebrew texts contained no punctuation and no vowels..at least until the Masoretes got ahold of it. Despite the scores of Southern parishioners taking absolutely everything they read in the Bible at face value- much of what is taken as 'Gospel Truth' has been either misunderstood, mistaken or even simply mistranslated. It isn't conjecture at this point.

Take the following example:

Go to Google translate and type in

"I am a peaceful man."

Now translate from English to Latin to Greek to Hebrew to Greek to Latin and then back to English again. (Almost exactly how we arrived at our most modern Biblical translation minue English at the begining..by the way)

Surprise, surprise. It now reads

"I have an airplane ticket."

The Nazari himself anticipated this ridiculous game of telephone, which is why he communicated his most important messages with parables. Because parables require deeper thought from the listener, deeper thought from the reader and thus deeper thought from the translator as well.

Moving on..

As mentioned in the Infancy Gospel of Thomas:

II. 1 This little child Jesus when he was five years old was playing at the ford of a brook / and he gathered together the waters that flowed there into pools and made them straightway clean [unintelligible] commanded them by his word alone.

2 And having made soft clay, he fashioned thereof twelve sparrows and nd it was the Sabbath when he did these things [or made them,] / and there were also many other little children playing with him.

3 And a certain Jew when he saw what Jesus did, making things upon the Sabbath day, departed straightway and told his father:

"Lo, thy child is at the brook, and he hath taken clay and fashioned twelve little birds. He hath polluted the Sabbath day."

4 And Joseph came to the place and saw: and cried out to him, saying "Wherefore doest thou these things on the Sabbath, which it is not lawful to do?"

So Jesus clapped his hands together and cried out to the sparrows and said to them: Go! and the sparrows took their flight and went away chirping.

5 And when the Jews saw it they were amazed, and departed and told their chief men that which they had seen Jesus do.

And Jesus smirked. [I added that last part in]

!! Astonishingly, at only 5 years of age the Nazari was demonstrating not only a latent understanding of magical systems but also an ability to apply that system to a PHYSICAL ALTERATION OF THE NATURAL WORLD. He was also showing signs of disdain towards the human beings for whom he had been created to protect. And that coupled with observations of the boys power had everyone in town, not least of all "his parents" deeply, deeply terrified and concerned.

Here again from the Infancy Gospel:

1 After that again he went through the village, and a child ran and accidentily dashed against his shoulder. And Jesus was provoked. He said "Thou shalt not finish thy course." And immediatelhetbe boy who provoked him fell dead at the Nazari's feet. and when some of the onlookers saw what he had done they wrenched at their garmets and said

"From whence was this creature born that every word of his is a great work or a miracle or an act of nature."

And then the parents of the boy he had slain marched unto Joseph, and blamed him, saying: "Thou who has such a child cannot dwell with us in this village unless he is taught to heal and not kill and to bless and not curse. For if he remains as is, he he will slayeth all our children / and then what of us?"

1 Immediately Joseph called the young child apart and admonished him, saying:

"Why are you doing these things? Why do you inflict such unforgivable suffering upon these people? So that they hate us and persecute us? Is this what you wish? But Jesus said,

"I know that these words are not your own (!!??) nevertheless for your sake and for the sake of suffering I will hold my peace.

"But them" Jesus pointed to the parents of the young boy he had slain."Them that accused me.. Them shall bear the weight of their punishment, too."

And straightway they that accused him became blind / and they began to moan and to scream in confused horror until little else could be heard in the town.

2 And they that saw it became even more afraid and even more perplexed / and said that every word which he spake whether it were good or bad, was a deed, or a marvel. So they began to very carefully walk away / pretending not to hear the anguish of their neighbors.

And when he saw what the Nazari had done / he arose and took hold upon his ear and wrung it purple. 3 And the young child was wroth and said unto him:

11l

O. "It sufficeth them to seek but not to find, and verily thou hast done unwisely: Don't you know that I am not my own? Vex me not."

I know what you're all thinking. I spent a year of my life going over this document and asking every difficult question that I could think of. So let me save you some time..

1. The document is authentic. The narrative account matches those of others which which say the same thing in their own texts. Even with evidence, perhaps out of fear, I might have dismissed this manuscript if it weren't for similarly described behaviors by another, far older 'Son of God(s); Gilgamesh, King of Uruk- The (weirdly) 3/4 God King of Mesopotamian Sumeria. If you'll recall, Gilgamesh would routinely rape women in the streets in from of their Fathers and Brothers. He once enslaved a quarter of HIS OWN people....HIS OWN PEOPLE...to build ziggurauts in honor of the Gods- a pantheon to which he technically belonged.

Both Gilgamesh and the Nazari began their brief human existences as supremacists. Their distaste for humanity was oozing off of every word they spoke and off of every action they took. And both of them had to be 'corrected;' Gilgamesh by the Gods (through the creation of Enki-Du, a bizarre man-animal hybrid who challenged Gilgamesh to fight after fight until his rage and hatred subsided.) And the Nazari by his human keepers...though not NEARLY as successfully as Gilgamesh. Here is a link to something I wrote about Gilgamesh a few months ago. It may help to clarify whats happening here in case I miss something.

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=246927900243739&id=100047795931957

The Gospl continues:

VI. 1 Now a certain teacher, Zacchaeus by name, stood there and he heard in part when Jesus said these things to his father and he marvelled greatly that being a young child he spake such matters. 2 And after a few days he came near unto Joseph and said unto him: Thou hast a wise child, and he hath understanding. Come, deliver him to me that he may learn letters. And I will teach him with the letters all knowledge and that he salute all the elders and honour them as grandfathers and fathers, and love them of his own years.

"And Joseph chuckled." Is what I would have written, because..

3 And he told him all the letters from Alpha even to Omega clearly, with much questioning. But Jesus looked upon Zacchaeus the teacher and saith unto him: Thou that knowest not the Alpha according to its nature, how canst thou teach others the Beta? thou hypocrite, first, if thou knowest it, teach the Alpha, and then will we believe thee concerning the Beta. Then began he to confound the mouth of the teacher concerning the first letter, and he could not prevail to answer him. 4 And in the hearing of many the young child saith to Zacchaeus: Hear, O teacher, the ordinance of the first letter and pay heed to this, how that it hath [what follows is really unintelligible, but it disturbingly picks up..]

VII. 1 Now when Zacchaeus the teacher heard such and then so many allegories of the first letter spoken by the young child, he was perplexed at his answer and his instruction being so great, and said to them that were gathered there:

Woe is me, wretch that I am, I am confounded! I have brought shame to myself by drawing to me this young child.

2 THIS CHILD IS NOT EARTHLY BORN: this is one that can tame even fire: this is one begotten before the making of the world!

WHAT BELLY BORE THIS? what womb nurtured it? Woe is me, He putteth me from my sense, I cannot follow his understanding. I have deceived myself!

Goddamn. GODDAMN. I mean what the fuck, man? I remember reading this for the first time and simultaneously remembering what the older version of this creature said to his people in Mathew 10:34;

'Do not assume that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.'

~shudder~

I'll explain how truly terrifying that statement really is in part 2.

-Chad

#SoundCloud

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imaginetho · 7 years ago

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Hi! May I request a drabble with Lev? Like there's this girl whose also half japanese and half mexican, so one day Lev watches as she's being bullied because of that and he steps in. She usually takes care of herself, but she thanks him and they bond over that. Later Lev develops a crush on her and asks Alisa help to confess? I hope this isn't to detailed or something:/ Thank you so much and keep the awesome work up!❤❤❤

yes you may indeed! this is so adorable !!!! thank you for your sweet words and for requesting! i hope you like this ;;;

idk why i spent two days thinking on how i should write this and had a lil trouble but i really hope it comes to your satisfaction

Lev wasn’t the kind of person who liked showing his serious side nor meddle into someone else’s business, but what was happening in front of him right now was way too much for him to do nothing about.

From the types of people he hated, bullies came at top. Although this time, they weren’t just bullies but racist bullies, so double the hatred.

“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to be that close to someone when it obviously looks like they’re uncomfortable?” he spat at the two boys who were basically shoving themselves into your face.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you, so get out of here.” one of the boys spat back, and the other ignored him.

Lev scoffed.

Before the two boys got any more closer to you, he went and grabbed each by the collar pulling them too hard and making them smack their backs to the wall.

“You do realize I’m also only half Japanese right? Let’s see you talk shit to me.” he gazed at them.

He really did love being tall, it made staring at people and terrorizing them come in handy sometimes, like right now. He knew exactly how it felt it to be bullied for your race so he couldn’t let that happen to someone else too. Not on his watch.

He knows how horrible it feels, he wouldn’t wish it upon anyone else. He really hated those kind of stuff, it made his blood boil in anger. He could feel his heart beat really fast.

The two boys did not move an inch but remained on the floor from where they got smacked to the wall. Lev really knew how to show his serious side when he has to, and let the people know just how serious he is.

He looked down at them, face dark.

“You should know that bullying someone is wrong let alone bullying them over being who they are. For the sake of the 9 months your moms carried you in their womb, don’t let that go to waste by being ignorant and horrible human beings.” he scoffed.

They just stared at him and then back to you. It seemed like they noticed how angry he really was right now because they got up quickly and did not waste a minute to apologize.

They were just about to turn around and leave when Lev put a firm hand on their shoulders.

“If I see you bothering her, or anyone else again, words won’t be the only thing I’ll be using to stop you.” he spat.

They shivered under his touch but remained still until he finally lifted his hands off and they left, not even looking back once.

Feeling his heart still beat fast and anger still running through his body, he wanted to leave quickly and not scare you with the dark look he had trouble controlling on his face.

He put a hand in his hair scratching it embarrassingly, trying his best to hide the anger and the fact that he actually wanted to beat them in utter cold blood, “Are you okay?” he chuckled.

You smiled at him.

“Thank you. I’m okay and you really didn’t have to do that. I’m used to it, I know better than to let such stuff get to me. Still, I very much appreciate your help.” you beamed.

“I’m used to it.” Those four words replayed in his mind.

He really had no idea how you still can say that with such a sweet look on your face. No one should have to go through that and yet it seems like it didn’t even affect you. You really did not give them the satisfaction of bringing you down.

“Woah.” he thought.

You were amazing, unlike him here, trying to calm down when he wasn’t even the one who they bothered.

He didn’t know why but he had to stop and admire you for a full on minute, until he finally snapped out of it and actually said something.

“No problem!” he chuckled and left.

He felt like he needed to be alone for a bit to try and calm down. This is exactly why he hates getting angry, once he gets worked up over something it takes him sometime to stop thinking about it.

“Wait!” you shouted and ran after him.

You stood beside him with a smile on your face. “We’re in the same class, aren’t we?” you asked.

You were pretty sure you’ve seen him somewhere before, you just couldn’t figure out where exactly. Luckily though, your memory decided not to fail you for once and you remembered.

He was the kid in class who always hit his head in the morning because of his height. He never seemed to remember that the door frame is too short for his height, he never learned. Literally, he went through the same thing every morning.

It always made you laugh that you’d actually sometimes look forward for the time he arrives when you’re having a bad morning because it never failed to make you laugh.

“Oh! We are?! ” he asked.

“Yes, you’re the guy who always hits his head in the morning aren’t you?” you giggled.

That sound felt very familiar. Your giggle, he was sure he’ve heard it before. In fact many times.

He gasped.

“And you’re the one who’s always laughing when that happens?! You even got in trouble once for laughing out loud during class didn’t you?!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, yes! That’s me.” your cheeks felt red.

Without realizing the two of you ended up chatting and making your way back to class together.

Although, Lev did notice something. He wasn’t as angry anymore, he felt a little calmer.

The both of you reached class and got into your seats. He noticed you sat a little farther away but still in his view. He smiled when he looked at you, and you smiled back.

“He looks better now, I’m glad.” you thought as you returned the smile.

You saw how angry he looked back then and you would have regretted it if you haven’t tried to at least make his mood a little better and lighten it up. After all, he did just help you, it’s the least you can do.

Ever since the encounter the two of you had, you’d see more of each other. Always finding each other in the morning, wether its at the school’s gate or in the school’s hallway, you’d always greet each other and chat whenever you got the chance.

“It’s really hard! I need a break! And some food, please.” Lev whined.

The two of you found yourselves growing a lot closer ever since then and have been hanging out after school for almost three weeks now. The teacher had assigned you with him for a project, and the both of you were more than happy to be each others partners.

Or so you thought. Turns out he needs a lot of breaks and food to motivate him.

“Ugh. Fine!” you sighed and got up to get something from the kitchen.

Today the two of you were at your house, and he cannot lie to himself, spending all this time with you lately has been one of the best. He really has no idea why the two of you never met earlier. Even though you’re just friends now, he’s pretty sure his feelings are more than just that.

He wants to be able to hold you when he wants, to give you sudden back hugs, and to kiss your lips. Every time you’d smile at him, he feels so happy to be the reason for it. He wants to always be the reason for your smile.

The minute he reached home he went into his bedroom and lazily fell on the bed.

“Lyovochka!” he heard his sister yell.

Before he got the chance to get up she opened the door and came in.

“Who is it?” she asked with a wide grin on her face.

Not having any idea what she meant, “Huh?” he asked.

She sighed and walked closer to him. “You’ve been really happy lately. Like you’ve found someone happy.” she giggled.

“How long have you been together?! Do I know her?!” she exclaimed.

“Ahhhhh, I haven’t told her how I feel about her yet and yes you do. She’s the one always coming over after school.” he frowned.

Sure he knows how he feels, but it isn’t as easy actually letting you know how he feels. He still can’t seem to find a way to tell you.

“I knew it! She’s so pretty even I’d fall for her. You’ve come to the right person!” she smirked.

Even though she was the one who came to him but oh well.

After an entire hour of brainstorming and some yelling for ways to tell you how he truly feels about you with Alisa he finally found the perfect way to confess.

Today the two of you were at his house and currently in his bedroom studying. He can feel his heart beat really fast and could not stop gulping the minute you walked into his house.

You were sitting right in front of him with only a Kotatsu between the two of you. You were busy writing and he was busy mentally screaming from the inside. One last time, he gulped and opened his mouth.

“Can you read this for me?” he asked you.

You put your pencil down and looked at him. “Oh, are you having trouble? Let me see.” you smiled and took the book from his hand.

“I really like you. Will you please go out with me?” you read what it said.

Your cheeks felt red and your lips turned into a wide grin. Unable to contain your emotions you started giggling shyly.

You took the pen and started writing your answer.

“I’d love to.” you wrote and drew a tiny heart right beside it.

You handed the book back to him and saw as his expression changed from worry and embarassment to an immediate smile.

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maplecornia · 3 years ago

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Namjoon

𝔞/𝔫: this will be in Namjoon's POV

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.85K

My hands flying across the keyboard, I have no room to think about anyone or anything else other than my work. I have no intention to think about anything else.

I've heard it said that there are those with a wasteland in their minds. They are constantly searching for something to give their life meaning, but everything they find isn't good enough. They are constantly trying to break the last record, find a new tune, discover another song to play in their hearts. They can never rest, they never want to rest for if they did they would lose their minds.

Pulling away from the board, I find that I'm shaking. My eyesight is wavering, I can't even think straight.

Am I the same as those lost?

Sighing, I hold my head in my hands.

What am I doing? I have no time to be worrying over things that don't matter. My gaze drifting, I notice a coffee cup on the table beside me, along with a small bag of snacks resting against it. Mildly amused, I stand to investigate, and find a note tied around the bag. Pulling on it, I blink in surprise at the neat but shaky Hangul written there.

Namjoon, I'm not too good at writing in Korean just yet so I hope that this is understandable.

This is a coffee cup, but if you need some water or an energy drink, I placed some beside your bag. This is a little bag of leftover snacks I found at the vending machine.

I'm sorry I couldn't find something better than this, but I hope it's enough for a small pick me up.

Please remember to get some rest tonight, I don't want you working too hard.

-Yen

I don't realize I'm crying until a tear runs from my cheek and lands on the small slip of paper. Surprised, I frantically dry the tear from the paper before holding it close to my chest as though it were my only comfort. The tears continue to run down my face, and I fall to the floor almost sobbing as unexplainable emotions surge through my body. Too fast and too many at once for me to be able to understand.

"Why...why are you so kind?"

Does she even realize the effect she has on my heart? The way she tears and turns it as though it were nothing? She doesn't even have to think twice about her actions. She doesn't do these things to gain something from me, in fact, she expects nothing, and yet...

She makes me want to give her the world.

"What are you talking about?"

Jaejin smiles at the question, almost as though he were dealing with a child who didn't want to let go of their parents on his first day of school. Scoffing almost, I fold my arms in indignation. Since when was I the child in this relationship?

"It's quite simple hyung, I'm going to be away for a couple of months. It's not that big of a deal."

"Not a big deal?!" Reaching forward, I stop him from packing. He looks up at me, a bit surprised. "Jaejin, need I remind you of your position? You can't just leave whenever you see fit. There are policies, systems set in place, responsibilities you have to uphold."

Jaejin rolls his eyes before politely removing my hand from his stuff.

"Namjoon, you didn't think I knew? I've already taken care of everything."

As he pulls away, rummaging in his desk for a pen and sticky note, I stare at him dumbfounded. He's leaving, isn't he? Just when I've come back, now one of my closest and most trusted friends is leaving me behind. Scolding myself, I try to push the feeling of being betrayed to the back of my mind.

Jaejin has a right to pursue his dreams, I shouldn't hold him back. This isn't something to be upset over, I should be happy for him, I should support his decision.

But I don't want to say goodbye.

He must've noticed my expression, for when he next speaks, I can tell his words were meant to comfort me.

"You know, you're going to love Yen."

"Yen?"

"That's the person coming in to replace me."

I stare at him, not wanting to believe his words. He's having someone come in to replace him as my manager? How can he expect someone I don't even know to replace him at my side? Just how long is he planning to stay away?

Almost sensing my discomfort, Jaejin turns to me and places his hand on my shoulder. "There's no reason to worry. Yen will do an amazing job, okay?"

"How can you be so sure?"

At my question, he gets this faraway look in his eye and beckons for me to join him as he settles down in one of the chairs set up at his desk.

"Yen is someone special, you'll probably notice that as you get to know her." I open my mouth to ask him how, but he holds his hand up, already foreseeing my immediate response. I roll my eyes at the gesture, understanding his point and shutting up.

"I'm not just saying this as her friend, she's someone who I think will help you a lot. Though she might not think she's qualified for the job, and she may doubt herself every second of the way, she will try her hardest to be the best she can be." Watching him talk about her, almost as though she were the thing he treasured the most on earth, both confuses and intrigues me. What is she, perfect? No person is, so what's the difference with her?

"Yen is the kind of person who speaks to others through their emotions. She knows when you're sad, angry, tired, she can see it all through a few gestures. With a simple look your way it's as though she can see all the hidden secrets of your soul." In his wistful eyes, I wonder about the history between the two of them. Missed chances, unspoken words, regrets, do they have any of those? The way he talks about her, I don't think they are merely just friends.

"My point is, she'll take care of you. You don't ever have to be afraid of losing yourself when she's around, because she'll always bring you back."

Holding the note in my hands now, the way it feels almost as though she were there right beside me, holding me as I shake from all the built-up pain and frustration, I realize that Jae is right.

She's always there, helping me, supporting me. She gave me a reason to continue, she showed me that I didn't have to take care of everyone all the time. She reassured me that I wasn't alone, that she would stay beside me no matter what happened.

"Your music changes with you, don't you know?"

As she sits across from me, her wide eyes piercing mine with their deep stare, I try to make some sense of her words. Yes, I understand that music changes, but what does that have to do with me and my struggles? I'm afraid I don't love making music anymore, and this is what she responds with?

She smiles almost understandingly at my perplexed expression, and I quickly hide it, unaware I was being so obvious.

"Namjoon, maybe the reason why you feel so trapped is not that you don't love music anymore, but rather because you're trying to recreate something from the past." My eyes widening at the thought, I pull away from the soundboard. Was that what I was doing? Trying to recreate a past sound when the sound inside has already changed?

"Music grows as you grow, it flourishes the same way. Maybe in order to find yourself again, you have to let go of what your music used to be." Turning to her, somehow I know she sees the pain and the fear reflected in my eyes.

What if who I am now isn't good enough? What if this person isn't worthy of his title? What if I've become what I've always been afraid of?

Nothing.

Reaching forward, she takes my hand into her small ones and smiles warmly my way. A smile meant to calm me down, a gesture meant to calm the storm that threatens to rise in my chest.

"That doesn't mean you have to forget, it doesn't mean you have to say goodbye. It just means you have to move on, and grow as you've done before. If there's one thing I know, it's that you are good enough. You are worthy of their love, you are worthy of everything you have ever accomplished."

She smiles somewhat cockily as her eyes locked with mine, almost making me forget my doubt.

"Now, you just have to prove it to them once more."

She taught me what I was doing this for, reminded me why I love music, why I chose this path. It was her light, her passion that showed me the way.

Raising myself off of the ground, and pocketing the note, I turn back to the computer. Back to my work. Wiping my tears, I sit down taking a deep breath before resuming.

I won't let her down.

note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAMJOON! I hope you have a great birthday, and continue to be the amazing leader you have been for the longest time! I'm looking forward to the day where we can see you again.

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