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@ecxtaehyun-blog
♦
i’ve been away for a while, so all current plots have been dropped unless you guys want to continue them. otherwise, comment one of the shapes below and i’ll write a starter.
♦ - para ♠ - script ♥ - pre-established relationship (you can specify, or i’ll make it up) ♣ - i’ll inbox you and we’ll plot more in-depth
An apple can be found on the man's doorstep-- nondescript but perfect, in every aspect, a glowing red. Utterly tempting, only one thing accompanies the fruit: a note, scrawled in fair handwriting; 'a gift.'
An apple. A flawless one, at that. not a single bruise could be seen— and of course, it was seated right there on his doorstep. His initial reaction is immediately to pick it up and take a deep whiff— but of course, there wasn’t anything too abnormal about it. It was solely an apple in its fullest prime.
A clawed thumb drew over it— and for a moment, voices in the back of his head began reminding him of old childhood fables. Snow White, particularly. One bite of this, and he could die— or at least fall asleep until a true love’s kiss would break the spell. (Basically die.)
The temptation was there, though. A rebellious side of him wanting to take that bite. Like sticking his middle finger up in the air, and saying a big “Fuck You” to whatever fate-controlling deity existed. It wasn’t going to kill him. It was just a fucking apple. Accompanied by some cryptic note, but nonetheless.
It took another second for him to remember-- he didn’t even like apples.
♦ confrontation.
“Enlighten me then,” Sehun scoffed, pushed away from the boy. If this guy wanted to think he was a big shot then Sehun wasn’t going to damage his ego. But a stranger with attitude problems was different than someone he didn’t know giving the days Words of Wisdom as if he were a child.
Nam Taehyun. His specialty? Doing things without thinking them through. He was a master at it, of course. This was absolutely no exception. He’d spurt out words-- and now he actually had to follow through with them. There was, of course, the option of backing out and walking away from the situation-- but he was no fuckboy.
What did this boy do again-- besides drag him to a damn corner? He ... well, he wasn’t actually sure, really. Was it relevant? ... maybe. Did he care? No.
Shoving him against the concrete, he let out a low hiss, baring his fangs as he spoke. Claws kept curled in the fabric of his shirt, threatening to rip through the material. “I’m going to be generous to you. I’ll give you one chance to cut the damn attitude and run away. If you don’t, I’ll show you exactly why people don’t fuck with me.”
♦ transit.
Truth be told, he was going to sit down whether he had permission or not, and if that meant dropping the DJ’s bag into the aisle, then so be it. Thankfully for the both of them—and the bus driver, who probably had dealt with his fair share of brawls on this thing—the seat was given up and Minho sat down.
“You don’t have to worry. I took a shower this morning, as I usually do,” he pointed out, noticing the distance placed between them when the other leaned away. A grin spread his mouth. “I don’t bite either.”
'I know you showered. I can smell it from here. Your scented body wash is practically suffocating.'
The words never come out, of course. In any general situation, it would be considered rude to blatantly sniff someone else-- even if it was part of his-- ... powers? Abilities? Whatever the hell it was he had. It was inconvenient for him, that's what it was (He was sure a 'regular' person wouldn't be able to smell-- that).
He was being whiney.
“Small talk is stupid. I hope you’re aware.” Blunt as ever, Taehyun simply tugged his headphones over his ears-- a silent way of saying ‘you can stop talking now-- I’m going to ignore you the rest of the ride home.’
♦ brooding.
He had felt particularly adventurous upon waking earlier that morning, and has ventured further than he typically does in hope of finding somewhere new to relax during the days that he feels like going out. To most, this likely isn’t such a big deal, but to someone who keeps to the same routine and rarely breaks out of his comfort zone, he feels rather accomplished.
He had just strolled along the streets for a while, gazing around at the surrounding buildings and taking in the shops that he has failed to visit just yet. It only takes an hour for him to lose interest in just strolling, though, and takes to a nearly empty coffee shop that is quaint and relaxing in appearance.
After standing in the queue that only held one other person, he allows the android to take his order of a plain black brew of coffee and completes his purchase with a scan of the bracelet upon his wrist, taking the beverage when it is handed over. Seeing as most seats are available, he chooses the one in the farthest corner, hoping to gain as much solitude as possible as he finishes the rough draft of his most recent article.
This, however, does not last as long as he had hoped it would. Having just opened the page, the coffee still much too hot to drink, he finds himself interrupted by a rude tone of voice that forms words far from polite. There is no glance up, though, as he doesn’t feel like bothering with such a nuisance. He has more important things to attend to.
“I don’t think the authorities would take too kindly to that. Besides, there’s plenty of tables other than this one. Try one that isn’t taken, or sit down anyways. There’s more than one seat.”
Obviously, fate wasn't on his side today-- at all, really. A hellish morning was terrible enough-- but this damn brat seemed to hold utmost intent to make the rest of his day a living hell, too.
So maybe it was an overreaction. Maybe this kid was just grumpy-- or maybe he had some sun-allergy. For all he knows, the kid could have an ability just like his own-- and Taehyun would (usually) be quite grateful to have someone he could relate to.
But no. With a hot-headed attitude and a splitting headache, he didn't-- no, he couldn't possibly consider the other options. He was exhausted. He was overtired, grouchy-- and for all he knew, he might've had some stranger's ability running through his veins. Maybe that chick he banged last night had some weird hangover-worsening power.
Now, wouldn’t that be shitty.
His fingers curled around his cup-- and it took everything in his power to be the better man... if being the 'better man' meant briskly placing himself down in the seat right next to the other. He began quietly glaring-- envisioning ways he could somehow make the damn kid's head explode. Sure-- call him immature, but he could damn well glare if he pleased.
Hopefully it would make the kid uncomfortable enough to move.
© STAY GOLD | Do not edit or remove logo.
“please help me.” | trace&pulse
at least partially, namjoon was used to being used. that was the majority of his upbringing, after all— maybe that’s why he made it so easy for others to step on him.
but he never let himself get squashed. if there was one positive thing about it, it was that he knew he could bounce back from anything— maybe a little scarred, and it might take a few weeks of panic attacks and shaking hands, but he’d be okay. eventually. (he’s not as strong as he tries to make himself out to be.)
he can feel the moment taehyun pulls away— namjoon gasps as well, a collective noise, all of those overwhelming feelings dissipating until he no longer felt like he was fizzing at the fingertips with taehyun’s empathetic consciousness. his neck was slick, and namjoon drew up one shaking hand to clasp over the open wound, shivering at how cold he suddenly felt.
silence.
all namjoon can process, at the moment, is the borderline oppressive way taehyun dominates his senses, hyperaware of the fact that he was attuned to the dj, right in front of him. “f—… fuck,” he breathed out, weak, trying to pull himself up into a sitting position— and promptly being winded by a wave of dizziness, returning to his place on his back, staring up at the night sky. “i’m— guessing you imprinted on me,” he said slowly, and there’s an awkward, low laugh, pained from the pulsing distraction still leaking against his palm. “have fun. i can’t say i didn’t warn you.”
because namjoon knew exactly what taehyun was feeling right now— whether it was the way the dj stared at him, gaze unbreakable, or the past experience, it was something he was all too familiar with. “long story short, you’re going to be the world’s best stalker until that wears off. and since you just imprinted on me, you’re going to have a really hard time thinking about anything that isn’t me for awhile.” cue terrible, terrible, cringe-worthy wink, that isn’t even as playful as it usually would be if namjoon wasn’t in so much fucking pain. (assumed) heterosexuality or not, namjoon could play around too, but clearly now was not one of those times.
“i have p— fuck… power stabilizers in my car, if you want them,” he breathed out, closing his eyes. “unfortunately, i don’t have bandages to wrap… this… up. so if you could—” vague hand gesture. “help, that’d… be really great.”
namjoon, for the moment, excluded the part about empathy. he’d get into that later, when he wasn’t bleeding on the concrete, cracking jokes with a light head and probably missing a lot more than a pint of blood.
A blink. Another blink.
No-- this wasn't disorientation-- and no, this wasn't a dream, either. He still couldn't help but /feel/ Namjoon, and it had frustrated him to no end. Of course-- the more his friend (?) divulged in the details of his ability, the more Taehyun could feel his heart sinking to his stomach.
"Like hell you warned me..." Well, technically-- Namjoon probably did warn him. Taehyun simply wasn't in the state to listen. At the very least, he'd managed to stave off hunger for the next while (probably a week or so, judging by his current condition). He began fixing his hair rather obsessively, none too pleased at the thought of 'imprinting'.
World's best stalker. God damn. He wasn't ready for any of this bullshit. It was getting too late (early?) for him to properly process anything-- but he knew he'd have to deal with this for a while. At the very least, he should be able to get a general gist of what the fuck he'd just gotten himself into before heading back home for a rest.
Running his fingers through his hair-- he does his best to simply keep himself calmed. "I've got my own stabilizers-- back at my dor-- ...." Oh. Wait. Namjoon was still bleeding from the neck. Perhaps he should do something to aid him.
On the other hand...
"I'm gonna end up licking your neck if I get too close. I hope you know that. You can't put a post in front of a cat and expect it not to scratch." His lips curled into a line-- and he simply decides to make his way over to Namjoon's car nonetheless.
"Now drive me home before I bite you again."
♦ nerd.
So he’s not going away that quickly. Seungyoon could only keep pretending he was looking at the bottles in the pantry, squinting his eyes as the he heard the question. The small door was closed in a rather indelicate way, and soon he was sitting on an old stool he had pulled out from some empty place in the counter.
Elbows on the hard platform, chin resting on his palms, eyes on the man in front of him. He was not sure if he was be able to do that—talk to someone while working. Seungyoon was the bartender and the place was completely full today, but since everybody seemed to prefer dancing on the floor and ordering drinks from his co-worker instead of him—yeah, he was able to do that.
So then his job was to endure this guy the rest of the night as it didn’t seem like he was going anywhere soon. Seungyoon shrugged. At least he could keep himself entertained for one night—the man didn’t look like someone he would avoid, though. He was kind of too pale, but still he already had proved to be interesting enough.
“Do I look old?” Seungyoon retorted with another question, wondering if he should answer it properly. Weren’t that giving too much information? Well, maybe if—oh. He instinctively leaned back, gazing at the crowd for some seconds and trying to not laugh, but was difficult. “Why is that, though? Please don’t say you are pitying me, for god’s sake.”
Taehyun was a brash person-- but as brash as he was, he was quite observant. As observant as he was-- ... well, he was easily distracted by his own thoughts. Generally, it'd be seen as 'rude' if someone blanked out during a conversation-- but it wasn't really his fault.
His head was in the clouds most of the time, anyways. It wasn't abnormal.
Take his current situation, for instance. He'd issued the bartender a series of questions, but he couldn't exactly pay much attention to his answers... well, at all, really. His lips were too damn distracting. They were so big-- tinted pink. They looked so... soft. Plushy. Of course, Taehyun's initial reaction is to flirt.
But then he remembers just how much of a loser this guy is. Get your head back in the game, Nam Taehyun. He'd managed to catch the end of his sentence-- and he deliberately decides to lean in as the other leaned back. A silent way of letting him know he wasn't gonna get anywhere tonight.
"Well, you're not wrong. But still." Those lips. God dammit. Nam Taehyun, stop staring. You look like an idiot. Focus-- you're trying to talk to some loser kid. "You seem like you don't want to be here. That makes you-- ... interesting, I guess. You're someone I actually wouldn't mind bothering."
A rather proud look flashes. "Usually, people would kill for my attention. Take it as a damn honor."
♦ confrontation.
ecxsehun:
“You think I don’t know that,” Sehun hissed. He glanced warily at people passing by. A busy street in the middle of the day wasn’t exactly the best place to be having a heated discussion. He looked around quickly, spotting a shaded side street, and dragged the other with him. Once in seclusion from the crowded street, he turned to face the other boy.
Angst always seemed to follow around Nam Taehyun. He had a quick-tempered attitude-- and when it came to arguing with strangers, it was more common than not. He usually did his best to avoid them entirely-- but today... well, evidently it wasn't working so well.
He was less than pleased when he was dragged to what seemed like some dark alleyway. Usually he wouldn't have a problem with that-- but of course, being /forced/ by someone else was a surefire way to get under his skin.
A bit of a hiss was formed-- and he had no problem shoving the other boy away from him. "You're messing with the wrong person. You better damn well be aware of exactly who you're dealing with."
♦ falling.
Jet stopped and blinked a few times. Thats right — he had forgotten about the others powers. Rubbing the back of his neck, he grinned slightly “Of course, you are a Vampy — my bad” in ways the two were quite similar, not just from the similarities of a power with blood but it just made getting along easier between the two.
Making his way over to Tae, Jet rested his hand on his shoulder. “Did you wanna do something today?” Gritting his teeth, he moved his hand and shoved both hands into his pants pockets. “Im already bored staring at these four walls.” Even if it was raining it didn’t mean they couldn’t do anything.
"Vampy." He repeated the term under his breath-- and of course, it still sounded just as ridiculous. Vampy? It sounded so... unrefined. So childish. Taehyun wasn't exactly the most posh person-- but still.
His lips curled into a line. Vampy was weird.
Nonetheless, the offer given was quite -- tempting. To his standards, it was a wonderful day out. He wouldn't mind going out there and-- ... well. Doing something. Anything, really. There's a moment of contemplation. "My hair is on point today, though. I don't want to ruin it. You better have a big umbrella."
Clearly, he had his priorities set.
♦ showtime.
So the stories were true, it seems this guy was even scarier than what his colleagues warned him about. Hot tempered and cocky, were the first characteristics he was able to pick out and this was just the first few minutes of their conversation. None the less, even with the DJ barking at him and using all possible syllables to insult him, there was apart of Mino that couldn’t help but be a little amazed. He had just woken up yet was still extremely good looking. That was definitely a hard feat to pull and it would be a lie to say the older male wasn’t just a tiny bit envious.
❝Taehyun-sshi,❞ Mino spat out confidently, deciding he needed to man up and stop stuttering around the younger male. ❝How about you get some more rest. I’ll meet you later for dinner okay? Meet me at the Jjang Cafe at 8 and I’ll make sure to get you on my show there.❞ Unable to keep his charade of confidence any longer, he quickly ended the call with a wink and allowed his arm to drop to his side. Besides his bad personality traits. Pulse was a very alluring person and the young host couldn’t help but begin to feel a little excited knowing he was going to meet him. ❝He’s still a little disrespectful brat though.❞ Mino muttered falling back onto his bed. With a few hours until they had to meet, Mino decided he might as well sleep.
Despite his irritation, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit amused. This stranger-- the one who held absolutely no conviction not moments ago-- had managed to ball-up and speak out like a real man. It was impressive, to say the least. The slightest bit of teasing could draw that particular reaction.
Maybe this guy was more interesting than he'd anticipated. 8 seemed like a more reasonable time, too. Jjang Cafe. He decided to set an alarm on his communicator-- so he could at the very least, show up looking somewhat alive.
After hours passed, he'd managed to wake up and dress himself. His hair-- well, that was the main time-consumer. He still looked damn fine, though-- a usual pair of skin-tight jeans and a dark button-up. He even made sure to keep his schedule cleared. Another feat. A pair of tinted shades hid his eyes as he head out-- a single "I'll be there in 20" message sent to the other man. What was his name again? Minnow? Whatever.
‘This damn interview better be worth it.’
“please help me.” | trace&pulse
quite frankly, namjoon shouldn’t have expected any better. shame on him, he’s known taehyun long enough to know what happens when he gets like this— and reasoning with anyone who was that close to the edge was always a gamble. the best thing he can ask for is that this will sate taehyun for awhile until he can get back on his feet and— well. feed however it was he normally did. he sees the change in taehyun’s expression immediately— the frazzled expression, laced with pain, shifted abruptly, hyper focusing on namjoon. stay still. and namjoon doesn’t have the time to process the order, let alone do anything but listen to it— his head is being slammed back on the concrete and the only thought he can manage is fuck, this is a brand new shirt, before he seizes up in pain and his breath is knocked out of him in one clean moment. and again, he shouldn’t have expected any better. what he had thought it might be like, was maybe something akin to taking blood through a needle— uncomfortable, but not this painful. namjoon’s vision is dizzy as he sucks in sharp breaths, trying not to let himself panic. this is taehyun— and taehyun won’t kill him, and the most he can do is try to process all of the emotions flooding through him without absorbing it. the first thing, first and foremost, is an undeniable pleasure that leaves namjoon even more winded, like a good high, or— he’d rather not go any further. he moves on, using taehyun’s emotions as a distraction from the pulsing pain in his neck, willing it to fade to a dull throbbing, piecing through his own thoughts. primarily, there’s the stark awareness he had towards the dj, like a magnet, now that he’d imprinted on him, demanding all of his attention. secondly, there was the feelings pouring into him, the ones he was trying to ignore— and then there was his own panic, rising up in the pit of his stomach while he tried to fight it down. and he can’t even tell how long it’s been before it’s too much, too much, too much, and he’s finally starting to tremble, one hand going up to claw at taehyun’s arm, sucking in another greedy breath. “taehyun— t-taehyun, please—” he rasped out, and he tries to push some of his own panic into the other male to make him stop, please, because he’s being overwhelmed and it’s too much. it’s not even from the loss of blood— well, maybe, he can’t tell— but the swirl of taehyun invading his veins and making namjoon choke. there’s too much skin-to-skin contact, and he can’t even process his own feelings anymore. “please…”
There was one major disadvantage Taehyun always faced-- whether with his ability or without. If anyone had a single strand of kindness in their hearts, Taehyun would always find ways to abuse them in some way, shape or form.
Whether it be by banging them, or simply by jumping them in the streets and devouring them just like this-- Taehyun always found some way to manipulate or inflict pain upon the most undeserving people. Namjoon was selfless-- always caring for others before himself... and well. The point is made.
It only takes about a mouthful or two before he lowered from his frantic state. Of course-- it didn't move him away. He knew-- he knew he had to get as much as he could out of Namjoon before he could let go. The chances of him finding someone else willing enough to supply him were slim-- and he wanted to buy himself as much time as possible.
Partway through the procedure, he began... feeling things. Strange things.It wasn't something he'd anticipated-- nor something he'd taken into consideration. Not the smartest thing he'd done-- but again. A fatal flaw. He could feel-- Namjoon? If Namjoon was an emotion, at least. He didn't understand what was going on-- and more importantly, he couldn't shake off the undeniable feeling that began filling him.
Namjoon’s words were enough for him to pull back.
Within moments, he'd fallen back, a sharp gasp let out-- practically begging for air to fill his lungs again.
He'd ingested enough for him to get by-- that wasn't an issue. The issue lay in his racing chest. The feeling that he'd somehow made a /mark/ on Namjoon's being-- the feeling of... whatever it was he was feeling.
He figured it was Namjoon's ability. He decided to stare until an explanation was given.
“please help me.” | trace&pulse
no one should be surprised that namjoon’s kindness extended past his job— then again, most people were surprised when he showed kindness even in the smallest things, like cutting off their alcohol supply when they’d had enough, or consistently offering water with every other drink. it was a constant, for namjoon; if he was lamenting about his job, he was probably… giving himself a reason to lament about his job.
honestly, he’s his own demon. (in more ways than one— but, well.)
taehyun is clearly distressed (if that’s the best way to put it), rigid and taut against namjoon’s clothed fingertips when he touches him, and he sends soothing waves to try and sate the beast that’s trying to fight through taehyun and devour him whole— which he can see clearly, in the way the dj is staring at him. “i can’t just pick someone off the street, taehyun,” he exhales, always the voice of reason. “and i doubt yoongi hyung would let you do it with him, either—”
the only obvious option is namjoon himself, but he hesitates. visibly.
“you remember the details of my ability, right?” he says, quietly, warily— he’s crouched down next to a kind-of-friend on the dirty concrete, against a garbage can, and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep. “i’ll be able to find you, wherever you are, if you touch my skin. if you’re okay with that, then i guess— i guess i’m okay with letting you feed off of me, or… whatever it is you do.” suck his blood. that’s the phrase he’s looking for.
and namjoon has every right to be hesitant— there’s only a handful of people he’s imprinted on, for the sake of being careful. it feels bizarre, that not even five minutes ago he was washing down the counters, and now he was offering up his blood in order to keep someone from tearing it out of some stranger’s jugular, even despite his own caution towards anything even involving skin-to-skin contact.
it felt very out of character, quite frankly.
he moves to push taehyun’s sweaty bangs out of his face, kneeling down to better position himself next to him, sighing. “i doubt you give a shit about that right now— how do you want to do this, then, i guess?” he ignores the anxiety swimming in his stomach with a tiny, nervous laugh. “tell me what to do.”
Thinking through his actions wasn't one of his strong points-- but that particular aspect of him only worsened when he was in this particular state. No-- he wasn't quite feral yet-- but he was almost there. Almost.
'Calm down, Nam Taehyun. Stop thinking like that. You can do this. Namjoon's going to help you through this. Just breathe. Just breathe. In-- out--'
Long fingers trembled-- and he'd tossed his head back against whatever surface was behind him. He'd done his best to listen carefully to Namjoon-- but he'd only caught bits and pieces. Yoongi-- of course, Yoongi wouldn't let him dive in. Yoongi's abilities held far too many weaknesses, anyway-- he simply wouldn't be able to go about his daily routine being overly sensitive to sound. Of course, he never really knew the specifics of what his ability was-- but seeing him crumble down in a noisy atmosphere was all the proof he needed.
And-- ... well, Namjoon was right. Picking any random person off the street was dangerous. Despite knowing this perfectly well, it didn't stop him from letting out a low hiss in protest. He didn't care.
'Breathe, Taehyun. Stop. Just take in a breath.'
Of course, that last offer had stuck a particular cord. It was, of course, the most viable option in his current situation. Namjoon. Usually he'd stop and think. He'd consider his options-- he'd actually bother to think about ... well, what Namjoon's ability was.
Did he care? Well, not particularly, no. He was desperate.
It didn't take any consideration as his eyes darkened-- and within moments, the man in front of him seemingly turned into a fresh morsel-- just waiting to be taken. His neck was long, inviting-- and Taehyun... well...
"Stay still."
Within seconds, he'd practically pounced over Namjoon, using his body weight to keep him pressed against the concrete beneath him. Large hands pressed his chest down-- and his fangs had somehow made incisions directly into Namjoon's skin.
The second he felt a metallic taste on his tongue, a wave of pleasure filled his veins.
1 / ??? random gifs of Nam Taehyun
"Oh, wait! Please! You dropped this on the ground!"
He usually didn’t have the time-- nor patience for interruptions during his daily routine. He got what he needed done, then he went back home. Unless he was out clubbing (or out on one of his many one-night-stand excursions), he made it his point to avoid as many people as physically possible. Today simply didn’t seem like one of those days. After someone bumped into him, he was moments from ripping their head off. After another called after him-- well, he’d lost his patience. “You can’t fucking tell me what to do.”Of course, after angrily walking a few paces, he realizes his lack of headphones. Shit.Turning around seemed to bruise his ego-- but as he strolled back to the man in question, he had no problem snatching them away. Not once had he bothered to recognize the familiar scent-- or even spare him a glance. Fitting the headphones back around his neck, Taehyun spun on his heel and began trekking back to his apartment-- hopefully without further interruption.
“please help me.” | trace&pulse
ecxtaehyun
the tiny voice surprises him.
namjoon freezes— and shit, he knows that voice, it’s a familiar one. they may not necessarily be friends, acquaintances at best— but they work together more often than not, and he’s given taehyun drinks under the counter more than once as a thanks for keeping things calm on the nights he played. but their relationship never surpassed professional, even if taehyun had hit on him more than once, which namjoon had always— politely— turned down.
but he was familiar enough that namjoon recognized his voice, even if it was behind the building of his workplace, in the process of locking the place up. it was small, but not far off— and he finishes clicking the key in place before strolling around the garbage can to investigate, stomach rolling with the beginnings of apprehension.
and what he sees— well, it’s certainly a sight.
“shit, when the hell was the last time you fed?” he exhales sharply— the dj looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, slumped next to the trash can, and namjoon immediately kneels. “it’s real rare for me to see you like this, i thought you went home with someone earlier— hookup gone wrong, i’m guessing?” a sigh. “i just locked up shop—… where’s your apartment, i’ll call a cab and get you home, yeah?” he’d have to text yoongi to let him know that he was going to be late, but he wasn’t just going to leave taehyun here, (blood-)starved and clearly mildly incapacitated.
he considered the power stabilizers he always carried with him, offering them to taehyun. but he knew the dj had just gotten out of detainment, so he probably had his own supply— but still. just one glance at taehyun gave namjoon all the assurance he needed to know that the guy hadn’t had any blood in awhile, for whatever his reasoning might be.
the idea of offering his own blood was terrifying, but he considered that, too. maybe. (but first off, he needed to get taehyun off of the grimy concrete.)
There were many things Taehyun disliked about the world. He hated certain foods. He hated headaches. He hated bright lights and sunshine. He hated hangovers, he hated people who had the brain capacity of a doorknob.
Above all, Nam Taehyun hated being weak. He hated asking-- let alone begging for help. No matter what the circumstance was, his pride was far too large. Tearing down his ego took a lot of work-- and much to his misfortune, today seemed to be one of those days.
His body was shaking at this point. His fingers trembling, teeth clenched. People weren't people anymore-- they were mere morsels. They were waiting for him to dive over-- to sink his teeth right in and--
"I--I don't know-- ... I don't know, okay!?" his voice was shrill-- almost in a bit of a panic. Of course, he'd registered enough to know what was going on. He was there-- doing his best to avoid losing control. Namjoon-- of course, Namjoon would be the person who'd found him. He felt the slightest bit safer. Despite the various mishaps that occur for a bartender (whether it be a bar fight, or some drunk dumbass), Namjoon always seemed to miraculously maintain a level head.
If Taehyun could have anyone to help him in a situation like this, it would probably be him.
Breathe.
He closes his eyes-- and of course, the scent of another being /so close to him/ draws excitement. He wanted to badly to just-- reach over and--
"Get me something. Get me something now. I don't care if it's some weird animal or a blood bag-- I need something now--!"
♦ falling.
ecxjet:
Looking out the window at people running for shelter from the sudden downpour and wind that picked up. His brows furrowed and he rubbed at them violently. “You think that the rain is nice?” He scoffed to himself under his breath and leaned his hands on the window-cill. Autumn was nice, when it was sunny and felt warm. But when it was like today -cold and miserable. It was boring to be stuck inside all day. “Autumn is the worst time” he turned to face the other, his back against the window. “Why do you like it so much, Hyun?” Jet raised his brows at the other and cocked his head to the side waiting for a good explanation.
Flicking his gaze toward the taller male, his lips curled into a line. He knew Jet was right-- sunshine and partially-cloudy days were usually seen as the most ideal conditions for doing-- whatever it was people did. Taehyun, of course, was an exception. Leaning on his heels, he took a moment to think things through before finding a suitable response.
Of course, he realized he didn’t really need a suitable response. He had a legitimate enough reason to like what he liked-- he didn’t need to have others question him on it. “I hate bright days. Days like these-- ... I can actually go outside without getting burned. Simple as that. Autumn is filled with rain. I like it.”
