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elizabeth-234 · 4 years

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The Hourglass

Previous Chapter Ten: For the Great Good Part Two

Hi All. Thank you for reading. This is for prompt ten of whumptober: Internal Bleeding and blood loss.

References to suicide.

Chapter Eleven: Where in the World is Peter?

???

People were talking around him. They were the type of murmurs you could never hear the exact wording no matter how hard you concentrated. His head lay heavy on the pillow, sunk into the dent worn in it by time. He found the same experience with his limbs. They were all but useless at his side besides the small twitch in the ring finger of his left hand.

Time held no meaning in that state of immobility and exhaustion dragged him back to sleep whenever consciousness creeped back in. Inside the immobile body his cells worked to heal and repair the damage from the attack and fall, though his mind remained unaware. Hours or weeks could have passed, and in some ways they did but Peter wasn’t aware to the consequences of this yet.

He woke up to the sound of voices again. Shaking from the effort, he cracked an eye open. There was a young nurse sitting on a stool near the door. She was on some talking into type of boxed hospital phone. Her intonation rose and fell as skimmed through some paperwork on a clipboard. Peter closed his eyes and panted while trying to ignore the trembling in his neck. He slept again.

Waking moments were more prevalent from then on. He noticed someone was always stationed in his room no matter the time of day. Some stayed in the chair by the door while others came in and watched TV. They sat in the chair beside him and though he would fall asleep, it this strange state of sickness seem less lonely.

The doctor came sparingly but they made sure to give a progress report when they did. “Low urine output still. Give him more fluids” The doctor said much to Peter’s embarrassment. His palms were clammy against the bedsheets but his arms wouldn’t respond to his attempts to move. His mind wanted to claim health, that he was fine and could go back, but his body knew what his mind wouldn’t acknowledge: Peter was hurt and it was taking too long to heal. His heart was beating fast but his pulse pressure remained low. He wasn’t just tired but had full exhaustion and fatigue in his muscles.

Sometimes he pretended they were talking about somebody else so he didn’t have to be embarrassed. Like he wasn’t invisible and they weren’t talking around him. Other times he couldn’t follow the updates from the people. He’d get lost in the numbers and vocabulary, the twisting sentences that almost seemed like they contradicted themselves. A headache formed and he would block out the sounds instead of trying to wake up. Still, Peter slept on.

When he opened his eyes without strain and forethought, it was night. He stared at the moon from his spot on the bed. It hung low and thick in his window. The yellow and dark watercolors of the face casting a strange tint across the room and the blankets covering him. The face stared right back at him all dark eyes and long mouths. Did the man in the moon pity him or was he laughing?

Peter took a mental stock of himself. He tensed his muscles pushing them to see how they functioned after no use. He was breathing hard from his exploration, his legs twitching and restless. With slow, measured movements Peter pushed himself to sit, though his stomach muscles protested the whole way. Hunched over and catching his breath, Peter thought about his next options.

The memories of how he came to be in the hospital were gone, but he knew he had to get out. The more time spent here, the easier it was for the men to come back. They would fine him eventually and such public exposure would work against him. Peter almost caved against the onset of his plans and fell back onto the bed, but he held firm. Rhodey and Tony’s faces appeared before him like apparitions in a ghost story. Their transparent expressions yelling at him to run as invisible enemies attacked them. A branch in the tree outside moved with the wind, disturbing the shadows in his room, and they were gone. He would find a way out for them.

Peter swung his legs off the side of the bed. He gasped as the cold of the tiled floor soaked through his socks and chilled his feet. Some plastic pouch was strapped to his leg. He palpated it and blushed when he felt liquid inside. Pushing away thoughts of his urinary track, Peter tested his balance. He fully placed his feet on the ground and pushed away from the stationary structure of the bed. Back and forth he teetered on the balls of his feet before what felt like the first time in forever, Peter was standing on his own two feet. His muscles burned and shook from the effort, and Peter began sweating but he was standing. It seemed like a time ago he was running on the dock. Had he fallen into the pond? His head pounded. He couldn’t remember what happened next.

Something moved and he saw the heat rustle the papers of the nurse sitting by his door. Her head was bent over to rest on the wall. She was almost asleep. Her eyes kept closing and not even the sounds of Peter’s explorations woke her. He could sneak around her if he moved fast enough. He tried walking but something tugged him back. The IV poll moved forward to catch up with him leaving the metal to scrap on the floor. The nurse woke up with a snort.

“Oh my.” She said when she spotted him up standing. “You shouldn’t be up. Let’s get you settled back in.”

There was no room for argument and he was tucked back in before he knew it. He drooped into the bedding and despite hating to admit it, even to himself, Peter felt like he’d just ran a marathon. Escape stretched further away from him if standing caused this much of an energy drain. He stared at the nurse how was working around him. She was an older nurse, one he might have seen before in one of his brief instances of clarity. She refilled his water and tucked the covers over his shoulders. Before she could move away he stopped her.

“Miss?” He said wanting to ask something that had been bothering him all night. “I’ve been to the hospital a few times when I was a kid and never had someone sit with me. Not that I don’t appreciate it but I don’t think I can sleep knowing someone’s watching me.”  

She gave him a critical eye as she checked the IV measurements with the time.

“Well, Mr. Parker that hasn’t stopped you from sleeping in the past 24 hours with other nurses here. I’m acting as a sitter tonight. I’m here to make sure you’re not a danger to yourself given how they recovered you from that lake.”

She patted him on his arm and his mind reeled with startling clarity of her words. They thought he jumped. They thought he chose to jump into the icy waters and not come back. A shiver ran down his spine. He needed to make her understand.

“That, that wasn’t it. I - someone was running after me and I fell. I - it wasn’t on purpose.”   

She clucked her teeth and pushed the covers up where they had fallen when he tried to get up to reassure her and maybe himself as well.

“Be that as it may, Mr. Parker. I have a job to do until you are cleared with the doctors and you do too. Rest easy tonight and focus on getting better. You’ve had some internal bleeding that they need to look at now you’re awake.”

He nodded and fell back into his pillow all fight and plans of escape forgotten.

“It’s Peter, please. Could you put the TV on? I would feel better with some background noise.” He said.

“I’m nurse Bee. Sleep well, Peter. I’ll be watching over you tonight.”

He closed his eyes and the sounds from the TV filtered into the room. His last thought was he thought he heard a commercial with Shrek come on.

“You’ve got some very unusual markers in your blood, Mr. Parker. It’s the reason it took us so long to find a suitable donor to get a transfusion. Now that it’s all set you should be feeling much better. We’ve removed the catheter as well and stopped most of the pain meds. The goal is to get you mobile now, build up any muscles, and, of course, you’ll have to see a psychiatrist. One will be sent up this afternoon. CPS was called and-”

“I’m eighteen, Doc” He said maintaining eye contact. The doctor raised an eyebrow but Peter didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t believe Peter, never mind that he was right not to trust him. It was that or he didn’t care either way. “Plus, I’ll call my uncle and he’ll tell you. There’s no need for anything else.”

The afternoon was filled with appointments. Just thinking about it left him a state of denial. Question after question bombarded him. He was scanned and poked and prodded. He didn’t even know how he was going to pay for everything.

The talk with the therapist was the worst. The hour dragged on. Every question was followed by another. Peter tried to be as honest as possible. Sticking to the truth was best in a lie and it would be easier to remember later, but Spiderman, that place, and May. No, all of those things were off limits. What he did repeat was he hadn’t jumped. He was chased and fell. The man nodded and wrote down something in his notebook before trying to dive into Peter’s past. He had no past here.

In any other circumstances it might’ve been helpful. If Peter was open to the experience he might have found talking about his life to a stranger freeing. But this wasn’t the case. His past was gone here to all outside eyes. It hadn’t happened because it would be dangerous to talk about it. He was increasingly closed off as the minutes went by. His attention more focused on the plaid sweater vest the man was wearing than their session.

Night came again. They must have believed his story because was finally alone. He was parched from retelling everything he remembered and more during the day. Still, something was missing. Dr. Lang suggested it was the trauma but Peter thought everything seemed off somehow. Everything was different from before.

He stuffed the blanket around his feet so the cold air wouldn’t chill them and grabbed the controller. He almost wished the nurse from the previous night was there before he stopped the thought. Escape. He needed to escape tonight. The CPS had been too late to arrive today but he didn’t think he would be lucky enough tomorrow. They couldn’t make plans about him and take him farther away than he was now.

The IV prickled with blood after he pulled it out. He pressed the corner of his gown onto the small hole and once it coagulated, Peter tossed a blanket around his shoulders as disguise. It wasn’t the most incognito appearance but it was all he had until he could find something, maybe a nurse’s zip-up to use. He also didn’t want the cold to stress his body even more in its weakened state.

The memory of the therapist in plaid confirming his time with the CPS tomorrow was enough to get him out of bed and into the hallway. It was empty. Only his heart racing and machines talking were heard at this time of night. Above everything else, he couldn’t be caught. He walked without sound but he was too slow all his thoughts of daring escapes and only managed one hallway when he heard someone walking. A nurse turned the corner wheeling a cart in front of him. One of the wheels squeaked as it rolled. Peter held his breath and pushed himself into the wall but it wasn’t cover enough. As fast as he dared Peter darted into the closest room hoping the patient was asleep. He leaned against the door not breathing until the squeaking grew too faint to hear.

“What are you doing?”

Someone said from inside the room. Peter swallowed. His assessment of sleep was way off base. With a stolen breath he peered around the door wall and into the room.

Papers were strewn over a spread of open books on the bed. It was chaos but the person sitting didn’t seem to mind. They were hunched over one of the papers. Peter waited for them to look up. He wondered if his eyes would be cold or warm but they were shrouded from view. His brown hair longer than Peter’s haircut. It was grown out from his buzzcut but still not longer than his ears. Peter spared a glance at the boy’s mouth and forehead. Both were furrowed and lined as he concentrated.

Peter felt like he was in middle school again waiting in the principal’s office after getting into a fight when one of the other kids called him a nerd. The principal made him stand in front of his desk for five minutes while he finished work. Peter didn’t have time to wait now.

“Well?” He asked again with a raised eyebrow. Peter realized he’d never answered. While the ground seemed infinitely a safer place to look Peter forced himself to look up.

His breath froze in his chest. In front of him sat an apparition. Peter almost pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. His eyes were the same brown with flecks of black speckled throughout, but like the first time it was the emotion that kept his attention. There was a certain duality to his eyes. They stayed focused completely on him and taking in his face but this time there was no recognition of the distance between them. This time Peter felt as though he carried the ocean in him that separated them and, for a moment, he could almost understand the expression in his eyes the first time they met. Maybe he’d been asleep longer than he thought. Peter continued to stare and the longer he looked the more differences he spotted. The lines weren’t the same around his eyes, age hadn’t touched him yet, and he was missing that familiar edge to the brown pupils that had grown over the weeks of Peter being with them.

“I was just hiding - I mean, I was, Tony? What the hell are you doing here?”   

The man’s – boy’s - eyes hardened but the curiosity stayed.

“Who are you? And how do you know my name?”  

Thank you!

Next Chapter Twelve: The President, Shrek, and Sweater Vests

#whumptober2020 #whumptober 2020 #no. 10 #blood loss #internal bleeding #spiderman #iron man #peter parker #avengers #marvel #MCU #tw: references to suicide #tony stark #rhodey #james rhodes #AU #marvel AU #peter parker AU

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eisforeidolon · 5 years

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Episode: Don’t Go Into the Woods

Can all supernatural things potentially make the lights flicker? I know demons and ghosts do, but has this been a thing for more straight up physical monster-monsters before? I honestly can't remember.

I hate to be complaining about the Winchesters actually working a case just by themselves? Especially with as rare of a thing as that’s become? But let's be honest, I wouldn’t trust Jack with a mission as perilous as shopping. He might kill somebody or destroy the world. Dabb & Co. have pointedly made him incapable of learning or understanding anything, so he's less a realistic character and more a dangerously idiotic plot bomb perpetually set to go off at random intervals.

Who the Winchesters are now going to leave entirely unsupervised while Cas also just happens to be elsewhere. Well, isn't that suspiciously convenient?

Right now when he's just got his canon-breaking powers back and may not have a soul? NOW is the time to leave him alone?

O-kay, crippling brain damage for everybody is again necessary for this episode's events to happen, I see.

The only thing more frustrating than Jack being a perpetual shifting blob of whatever the plot calls for? Is further manifestation of Dabb's desperation to write for a teen audience via the dumbass teenybopper trio returning. Knew it was coming, still did not brace me for hating having to sit through it this much.

I'm a little puzzled about they guy one being able to watch Ghostfacer videos. I kind of doubt any teenager would notice the videos if they weren't being currently produced, and the Ghostfacers broke up last we saw them. Did they somehow get back together after that episode with the lulzy anvilicious supposed parallels? If they didn't and this kid is just trawling the Internet for videos that are at least five years old at this point, wouldn't whichever Ghostfacer it was who had gone off to run a business or whatever have had this shit scrubbed off the internet to avoid being made fun of by his colleagues? Seriously, I am way way more interested in this probable continuity fail potential mystery than in anything about the teens themselves.

I don't have a lot to say about the case Sam and Dean were working. Again, it was fine. New monster, okay. I mean, it does seem like maybe a questionable choice to go for something that's similar to a monster the show has already highlighted (wendigo)? But really, a lot of folklore monsters are variations across slightly different legends, so it's probably stranger we haven't had more similar monsters over the years. It did at least look quite different and I thought it was cool how it melted.

Local townie sheriff in denial and really obtusely insistent about coyotes snatching people out of bathrooms? Eh, I can go with that, I guess. Though, what, was he planning on spending the next who knows how long of his life futilely trying to keep people out of the local woods for reasons he was going to just refuse to specify to anyone? And he even kept going on about coyotes while his son was so blatantly campaigning to win the Most Likely to Wander Into the Woods for Revenge Award? Kind of dumb, but I don't think it was too far over the threshold of unbelievably dumb. Yeah, it was all more than a little on the nose obvious about the sheriff knowing something such that the Winchesters were going to ultimately need his help. Still, there was at least some Winchesters working together and Dean got a cool moment disarming the sheriff in the woods. Though I'm not any less sick of yet again the rando of the week killing the monster while the Winchesters get knocked about, I'm kind of resigned to it at this point. Dabb clearly finds believably competent characters actually getting to be competent unspeakably boring.

So yeah, that part of the episode was mostly just there for me. I was inordinately bugged by how during one of those conversations between sheriff guy and his son the show chose to toss in an egregious flashback to the dead girlfriend. Like, do they think we as the audience have so little attention span we can't remember the kid is upset his girlfriend just died a few minutes ago in this same episode? Or do they trust their actors so little to convey emotion they felt it was necessary to go DEAD GIRL IN YOUR FACE AGAIN, BOOM! at the audience? There was that and the sheriff lecturing Sam & Dean about how they should just tell people monsters or real or put it on youtube – because that doesn't sound crazy and people can't make fake videos? I feel like that was less a genuine moment and more like the something the writers stuck in because it's one of the complaints that's been circling the fandom for years. Maybe I'm just cynical or the scene didn't come off too well, but I was less sympathizing with something that's actually a pretty reasonable response for someone blindsided by monsters being real and more rolling my eyes at his whining.

Here's a poll, which is more stupid? The cringe-y cluelessness of shoehorning in a dead horse of a fanfic cliché like, “We have movie nights on Tuesdays!” Or that the writers continue to think annoying teenybopper canon fodder calling Dean old is cool/funny. I can't decide!

Also, what are the writers wanting us to think about whether or not Jack has a soul? Because I am having some trouble here believing that he doesn't have any soul left when this episode turns into him angsting about accidentally almost killing Whatsherface #2 and getting rejected by the teen trio even after “fixing” his “mistake”. I mean, if the writers are intending us to know but not for Cas and the Winchesters to, that's fine, but if this is meant to be a mystery I feel like it's a fail in terms of how they're writing potential soullessness because while I don't care all that much, I don't feel any doubt that he does. Even if I am annoyed at the groundhog day feeling of this incident after we already sang this song over the security guard incident.

I'm also not terribly impressed about the Winchesters arguing in the car over Dean's lying to Jack about needing someone to stay in the bunker. If Sam really felt that strongly about it, why did he just agree? Even if it was some bullshit don’t argue in front of the “kid” thing, he could have tacked on an addendum about being worried about Jack’s powers without contradicting what Dean said. Oh, right, for the dramaz. In the same way that the show careens wildly back and forth between treating Jack as a competent adult and a toddler with some kind of memory retention disorder, the way the Winchesters handle him makes just as much sense. Speaking of lying, is it really that much better to tell a white lie about being worried about Jack being “comfortable” with his powers instead of finding a polite but honest way to say they suspect he'll accidentally kill people because he has no brains consistent control and an issue with overconfidence?

I think there were some Dean fans that thought the thrust of that end conversation was to blame Jack almost killing some fools on Dean - but whether or not there were any intentional shades of that, it's too stupid for words. Jack being badly written is Jack's problem, not any other character's prevarications. If Jack didn’t learn back with the security guard, the idea any talkity-talking over reckless use of his powers at the beginning of this episode would have prevented what happened is ludicrous. That’s only confirmed by spoilers I know about the rest of this season making it clear that even accidentally almost killing somebody outright here doesn’t teach him anything. Because again, he’s written as largely incapable of learning. Which, I guess there’s a weird pacifier-toting squad of infantilization-loving fans who are into that shit, but for my part? Ew, no thanks. I prefer characters with more personality than “helpless ball of woobified stupidity”. I liked Jack well enough to begin with, but the more central they make him to the story, the more obviously deficient he is as a consistent and three dimensional character.

#writer incompetence #anti dabb #negativity for ts #anti jack kline #spn 14x16 #spn season 14 #long post

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snkpolls · 5 years

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SnK S3E19 Poll Results (Manga Reader Version)

The poll closed with 295 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results of the manga reader poll. Anime only watchers are suggested not to read if you do not wish to be spoiled about certain events! Anime only viewers, click here to view your poll results!

RATE THE EPISODE 285 Responses

This episode raked in high reviews as the rest of the season did, although less people enjoyed it as much as they enjoyed the previous episodes.

The animation was odd in the first half of the episode, but it was absolutely incredible in the second half. Overall an amazing episode, somehow making filler scenes brilliant

It was a little rushed (which is understandable), so 4/5 stars. Overall a really good episode, I think.

I will be honest: the episode was very average. The basement reveal was animated very well. Eren and Mikasa's memories also were very emotional. However, in the scene with Armin & the rest of group the quality of animation dropped harshly. I know that not every scene in the anime can be animated on the highest level, but this one was just looking really bad.

Animation quality took a drop but I still loved it!

I really enjoyed it, and seeing Faye was surprisingly moving given that I'm not really a bit fan of the switch to Marley.

The animation wasn't as good as previous episodes but I didn't really mind, especially because there was a frame in there that made it look like Levi was sMILING and I am so here for that

I've been waiting so long for this episode.

what a beautiful episode, in all ways.

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR FAVORITE MOMENT? 290 Responses

Seeing young Grisha and Faye in Marley was the clear highlight of this episode for manga readers, with 37.6% of the vote going to the after-credits scene! Behind that at 12.1% was the scene of Eren and Mikasa nostalgically walking through their hometown, and 9.3% of respondents got a kick out of Levi opening the door in his own way.

I live for animated moments of Dad! Levi to his squad.

At first I was worried that they would just show the photo as the cliffhanger, but once we got the post credit scene I was blown away

I loved the first moments with Faye and young Grisha. Awww! Faye was so extremely cute and innocent. I would love to hug her! I thought that Historia was the sweetest as a kid, but now Faye takes 1st place :)

WHAT’S THE SIGNIFICANCE OF ARMIN SEEING THE COLOSSAL TITAN CRYING, SAYING “IT HURTS?” 288 Responses

36.5% of respondents believe that Armin is hearing and seeing Bertolt’s emotional pain over everything that’s happened to him. 27.1% think that this scene highlights part of the process of memory transfer from one holder of the titan to the successor. 12.8% feel that this is meant to highlight more the process of transferring the titan power to a new host.

A mixture of the Bert's physical and emotional pain, the transfer through paths and the extra creepiness. Bert here is behaving like a typical Japanese ghost who was killed in a brutal manner; notice the paths here are devoid of lights. Bert needs someone to exorcise him.

He's hearing Sasha saying 'It hurts' and because he's only half conscious and still possibly linked to Bertolt's memories, he's projecting it onto Bert. I think his subconscious knows he's eaten Bert at this point.

It has to do with the titan power, and how it hurts to carry such a burden of great power

Bert has been suffering too, just like Reiner, so a little bit of everything.

Foreshadowing of what Armin’s burden is going to be. He is going to have to kill a lot of people if he wants to protect the people within the walls. It’s a depressing fact for one of the more pure-hearted characters who just wants peace.

I think it’s an excellent presentation how Titan inheritors are connected both physically and emotionally

it's a pretty good summation of all those things tbh. Everything Bert went through can be summed up with "it hurts" tbh

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT CARLA’S SHORT HAIR? 291 Responses

Overall the fandom has neutral responses (33.7%) to the short clip of Carla with short hair, with just a slight edge of people (18.9%) who thought it was a good look on her. 16.2% of responses disliked the short hair.

I answered the Carla hair question with 3 because there is no "I don't care" option

HOW WELL DID THIS EPISODE ADAPT THE CORRESPONDING CHAPTERS? 288 Responses

Respondents felt that WIT did a good job at sticking to the source material again this episode, even though they stretched some scenes out with filler.

The pace was a little long but I really liked the episode's poetry and all the scenes in Shiganshina of the four walking, Hanji and her shadow reflecting next to a flower, Levi and the broken glass, Eren and Mikasa children ... it was very lyrical!

WHAT DID YOU THINK ABOUT THE EXTENDED SCENE OF EREN AND MIKASA WALKING THROUGH SHIGANSHINA? 292 Responses

56.2% of the fandom enjoyed the extended scene of Eren and Mikasa walking through Shiganshina, feeling that it helped to amplify the nostalgia and grief that they felt as they finally revisited their old home. 22.3% felt that the scene had a lot of emotional impact, saying that it tugged at their heartstrings. 11.6% felt the filler wasn’t necessary but still enjoyed it nonetheless.

They just came for my whole entire heart huh

Honestly, it was a little boring to watch, I want to believe that it was stretched for the sake of that masterpiece of end scene.

It was a lovely and poignant time-killer.

The walk to EM's house was really well done, it took me some tears, and i loved the additional scenes...

Somebody hug these two please and thank you. I thought for a moment they were gonna show us the untouched insides of buildings. But it was indeed pretty good.

THAT SHIT WAS ART!! I got real chills

It was better in the manga. It was badly executed in the anime.

Just seeing Hannes again made it worth it. Also it was a good throwback to episode 1.

It honestly highlighted how terrible the animation was in this episode, because the flashbacks had much higher quality

Literally my favorite part, I think it added a lot of gravity to the situation. Like we know it's their hometown, but the way this was animated really brought you back to where it all started, which also adds weight to the whole, "Oh god, we accomplished our second-biggest goal (getting to the basement) but we're still not finished at all" thing.

The concept of it was fine, and it touched my heart for the first bit of it, but it went on far too long.

HOW DID YOU FEEL FINALLY SEEING MARLEY ANIMATED? 289 Responses

We finally reached the Grisha Files™ and got to see Marley portrayed in the anime! 40.5% of respondents say that it felt incredible to finally see Marley come alive through animation, color and sound, while 38.1% marked it down as a surreal experience. 11.1% simply felt that it was neat.

I love Marley arc, seeing it animated and different vibes of music, and voice acting are very good. Can't wait what they have when marley arc fully animated

Animation was shit. Really disappointed they dropped the ball on animating Marley.

It was my favorite part of this episode. I truly love Faye. She is way cuter in the anime and so innocent. Everything about that moment was perfect.

I really dislike everything that came after the basement so reaching this point was sad for me.

DEAR GOD Y E S—

I could never picture it in my head before, and now I can! Liberio is so grey and sad!

Omg Faye is the cutest thing ever!!! I don't want to see what happend to her, I'm not ready!

I hoped they would save it for the next episode.

I’m not ready to face Marley or Marley arc Eren. Go back. Please go back.

The way they put that whole scene after the ending was weird

I never thought I’d be alive to see the day the beginnings of Marley getting animated; I know the next episodes are going to be perfection :’)

Marley music was 👌

BASED ON THE CAST CREDITS, THE MAN YOUNG GRISHA RAN INTO WAS ACTUALLY XAVER. THOUGHTS? 288 Responses

36.8% of respondents found the confirmation of the glasses man being Xaver to be an interesting detail, while 19.1% believe that this helps to further support the fan theory that Xaver and Kruger were working together all along. 15.6% of the fandom thinks that Xaver being familiar with Grisha since he was a boy makes his actions Zeke all the more disturbing.

How old is Xaver?? If that was him he has to be around 25-30 here. Which would make him 45+ with Zeke.

I believe it was Xaver all this time. It’s good to have a name with the face now.

There's no fucking way he wasn't working with Kruger. This is all connected lads

Just how fucking old is Xaver jfc also he knew grisha by name since childhood wtffff

I thought that was already obvious in the manga?

Nice easter egg, but that's all

The Xaver timeline makes sense, but it's a bit complicated.

The tidbit about Xaver was interesting. When I saw him in the anime it did remind me of Xaver since we've just been introduced to him, but I would never have guessed it was actually him. When you think about it, that day Grisha stumbled upon two people that later really shaped his life and set things into motion in the story. A nice coincidence to think of.

WHICH SCENE FROM THE PREVIEW ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 289 Responses

It was a close call this time! 40.8% of the fandom are most looking forward to seeing Eren’s reaction to Eren inheriting his father’s memories and figuring out that Dina was the Smiling Titan. 39.4% are excited to see Grisha and Kruger meet for the first time. At a distant third, Grisha and Faye going beyond the wall to see the zeppelin got 10.4% of the vote.

Dogs are cute, Faye is cute. Combine the two, and you're shou tucker.

KRUGER

NEED GRISHA FILES

I'm not ready for Faye's fate !!! ;_;

there's so many things to look forward the next episode, initially I was pondering between the Kruger meeting and Fay's death but eventually I chose Eren's memories because I don't remember that part in the manga.

COMPARED TO THE FEEL OF SEASON 1, HAS THE DIRECTION OF THE STORY MET YOUR EXPECTATIONS? 289 Responses

Nearly 70% of respondents feel that Isayama’s story continues to get better as it goes on. 17% say that it didn’t meet their expectations from season 1, but that it’s not a bad thing at all! 8% are simply still here for the ride, but are still enjoying the series anyway.

I'm one of the apparent minority who actually prefer the tone and content of the story post-basement reveal. I've always cared more about the human aspect of the narrative, and at this point SNK is nothing if not a tale of the human condition, in all its beauty and horror.

Animation wise, I feel like aot peaked with season 2 and they just got lazy or were under a lot of time constraints while making season 3. Other than that, didn’t care for how they handled Uprising and the direction for Shiganshina has felt pretty unoriginal and hallow. I just hope the new studio can adapt the next season with quality that can match season 2 or at least season 1.

I'm ambivalent about it. I preferred the atmosphere of season 1, but I'm still interested in seeing where the story goes. For me the emotional and moral climax of the story happened on the roof in Shignashina though, and I've not been as convinced by what's happened since - so far at least.

Met and exceeded. Thank you isayama.

I will continue watching, but it feels like Isayama is making things up in the fly and doesn’t really have a clear idea of how the storyline is going to work.

This is the peak of the story for me, I look forward to the next seasons because of thar, I want to see if the direction of the anime could make the next arcs more appealing to me

I initially liked the direction in which the manga went but I am finding it hard to like the way the story progressed, and how the original characters are treated, compared to the new ones. I am really disappointed in Isayama's writing at this point, character wise.

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

I love Armin

The animation quality dropped compared to the latest two episodes. The first half of the ep was kinda weird... like the hug, seemed like two different animators did it, because the lineart changes between s1 (thicker lines) and s3 style... Also they didn't do justice to Armin's abs...

Glad I'm a manga reader because this anime reveal was pretty underwhelming.

Imma say it, I didn't like that they showed a tiny snippet of Marley. I would have preferred if they'd ended on the photograph and the words "humanity has not perished". I have anime only friends who watched the Grisha/Faye scene and were like "...I feel like I don't have enough to even chew on right now?" Like it wasn't a punch in the gut like cutting on the photograph would have been, and it wasn't a full-fledged reveal so there isn't enough to go nuts over and debate and hypothesise. I mean it's still really good and I liked the episode, but the way they've sequenced the reveal isn't optimal to me.

I think they took a little too long to get to the basement. I understand why they wanted to, and the walk there was still really well done! But I think it'll now be a little tough to cram all the information they need to if they plan to end the season with chapter 90, which they of course do.

Faye is too adorable, there will be riots next week.

glad we're getting into the GOOD SHIT. give me marley

I love the soundtrack. It feels very different(in a good way) props to Sawano.

Tbh, the animation and pacing felt lacking in this episode, but we got Armin looking both like a Cinnamon bun and an Arman, and I am there for that.

I liked the story more when it was a creepy titan apocalypse instead of, well... this. But it's too late to back out now.

OH MAN, GOTTA LOVE THAT CLOSURE, IT FELT PERFECT WHEN THEY WERE WATCHING THE PHOTO AND THEN THE ENDING SONG STARTS TO ROLL OUT AND THAT POST CREDITS SCENE. JUST PERFECT

The additional material of this episode was really good in my opinion and the OST used on it was a pretty good election too, it fulfilled the purpose of make the viewer felt nostalgic, but the animation in the beggining was really "meh". And speaking about seeing Marley animated, for me the experience was literally a yelling and a "NO WAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!" I am so excited to see Grisha's backstory in colors! I can finally ear Kruger's voice, see the sunset falls down while Grisha take the photo and accept his mission, while Kruger give to him his final smile. Frankly this is my favorite "mini-story" of the manga, too shocking and enlightening. And to finish this, the appear of Xaver was too misplaced or it is just my idea? the timeline just doesn't fit into the story in my opinion. I think it was just a easter egg or something for the manga readers, I hope so lol.

For a long time I was scared that they were gonna leave out Eren hugging Armin and I'm so glad they didn't. Also the scene where Eren and Mikasa walked through the ruins of Shiganshina made my heart disintegrate. Thanks for amplifying the angst, WIT. 😭

When I read the manga, I remember fearing the idea about this getting animated because this part truly changes the entire story. But I feel that the story is getting better and better and more complex but still the same flare of Isayama Hajime's story telling.

THEY KEPT THE COLOR BLUE FOR MARLEY'S UNIFORMS I'M SO HAPPY

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 269 Responses

Thank you again to everyone who participated. See you again in a few days!

#snk spoilers #snk s3 #snk poll #snk polls #poll results

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 6 years

Text

Dissonance Chapter One

Description: After spending a year studying abroad in America, Y/N returns to Seoul hoping to greet the familiar city as a new girl. But what will she do when she’s met with old friends she’d rather forget? It seems the strings of fate are determined to test her resolve...and her willpower.

Genre: Fluff and Angst

Pairing: Taehyung x (f) Reader

Word Count: 8.6k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Rockband BTS!Au, Bassist Taehyung!Au

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Whoa!! So here we are hehehe. I’m so excited to start this new journey with you guys. I cannot even begin to express how overjoyed I am that you have stuck around with me through Arranged, and I’m glad you guys chose Tae in the poll! This is gonna be fun, and I can’t wait to go on this ride together. That said, this story is so different! It’s been a hell of a lot of fun and a little challenging to write it thus far. Big thank you to @musicandmusing you have been such a huge help getting through the tougher parts of writing this chapter. Please send me a message if you like it, hate it, whatever! I really can’t explain how happy I am when I get to talk to you guys, so I hope I get to do it more in the future! I’ll respond to all asks within a day of receiving them. As always, please send feedback, critique, questions, or comments my way!

Ah! And this is important!

My posting schedule for this fic will be once a week, as twice a week was too much for me with Arranged. I really wish I could maintain a twice weekly posting schedule, but it has been remarkably strenuous for me and while I’m not complaining, I really want to give you the best writing that I can. I’m sorry if this disappoints any of you!

So, expect a new chapter every Sunday at 1:00PM PST!

- Mercury

Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter

Masterlist

The sun pressed softly against the bare skin of my arms as they flapped on every jump, flailed on every descent. Sometimes my hands would search for something to grab onto, seeking purchase on anything and finding nothing but the mesh net of my neighbor’s trampoline. Sometimes I would fall onto my bottom in a fit of giggles and reach those grasping hands into the air where he would stand, his form eclipsing the sun, a silhouetted body that looked from below to be larger than the earth itself.

“Get up!” he shouted through laugher. He reached a bronzed forearm down towards me and I clamped a hand around it, hoisting myself up to stand beside him.

He grinned at me, that grin that always had me grinning too, and patted his black bowl of hair down around his ears. His mother had told him he’d grow into them. I wasn’t so sure about that. I struggled to look at him past the glare of white-hot, yellow sunlight behind his head. Squinting my eyes, I bent at the waist in the hopes that perhaps at the right angle he could blot out the sun once more.

“What are you doing?” he asked, still smiling.

I shook my head. “The sun!” I said. “It’s too bright.”

He raised his brows and grabbed my shoulders, hopping to the side and turning me with him so each of us stood with sunlight casting shafts across the sides of our faces. “Better?”

I nodded. “Yeah. But that was no fair! You double bounced me,” I said with a pout.

He flicked me hard on the center of my forehead and I cringed. “You tripped me earlier,” he said before turning his face to the side to peer with a tilted head at the sun.

“What are you doing?” I shouted, clamping a hand down over his eyes. “You’re gonna burn your eyes out.”

“No I won’t, that’s a myth,” he said, smacking my hand away and giving me a frown. “The sun is really cool when you think about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like…it’s shining so bright that it hurts to look at it. But still we wanna look, you know?” he said, suddenly pensive as we stood barefoot on the hot nylon trampoline.

I shrugged. “It’s just hot gas, right?”

He laughed. “Yeah, but it makes people look, even though they’re not supposed to. Just because it’s living so brightly.”

“But what does it matter if it’s bright if it’s just gas?” I asked.

He pursed his lips, thinking. “I wanna be a person like the sun.”

“Gassy?”

“Y/N,” he groaned, turning to me.

He looked at me, and the deep brown of his eyes seemed in the light to be on fire. In my ten years I’d never seen more ambition in someone’s eyes than I did in his. I wondered what my friend could possibly mean, what he could be talking about with his eyes glittering like that. I wasn’t sure why, and I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do, but I grabbed for his too-big, calloused hand and held it firmly, nodding my head.

“You’re already bright. But I’ll help you get brighter,” I said with a resolute steeliness in my young voice.

“Excuse me?”

I startled awake and rubbed my eyes as the taxi driver stared over his shoulder at me, his bushy, grey-laced eyebrows knitted as he nodded his head a few times. “Um…are we here?” I asked, unable to keep the drowsiness from seeping into my words.

He nodded. “Yes,” he said, pointing to my large duffel bag as it sat beside me, practically the size of a second passenger. “I got a bad back. Can’t help you with that.”

“Right,” I said with a forced smile. “I wouldn’t have asked.” I rifled through my satchel to find my wallet and, once in hand, slipped some cash from the side pocket. I handed the bills to him and nodded my head. “Thanks,” I said before exiting the car, yanking my duffel bag out the door with me.

I dragged my bag laboredly to the sidewalk and waved as the taxi driver sped off without a second glance. Sighing, I glanced over my shoulder at the tall, brick-faced apartment building. It had been a whole year since I’d seen the place. Its lofty roof pierced the blanket of foggy, cloudy sky overhead, and the sharp wind teased a chill up my spine. I rubbed my upper arms gently to coax the goosebumps down. I then looked down at my bag as it lay limp on the ground. If I wasted any more time the rain would come and wash it away. Part of me wanted the rain to wash me away too.

“Y/N!?” screamed a voice from above. Perhaps the voice of God?

“Yeah?” I called back, glancing up to find the source.

“Oh my God, I’m coming!” she called. Not the voice of God. Just the voice of Lee Yuna.

I smiled fondly as she yanked her body back inside the building, shutting the window behind her as she disappeared inside. Left alone once again, my body felt uncomfortable in the city, and the skeletons in my closet had turned to ghosts of memories in my absence, specters wandering around every corner, lingering like smoke in alleyways. Even taking glances around the street brought back a painful swell of remembering. But after what felt like only a few seconds, she was panting in front of me, the front door of the apartment building still swinging behind her as she rested her hands on her knees, catching her breath.

“You okay?” I asked with a laugh.

She looked up at me, blew her bangs out of her face with a puff of breath, and gave my arm a firm smack. “You said you were coming home tomorrow!” she shouted, causing a few walkers across the street to look and whisper.

I smiled and swayed, letting my head sway too. “Yuna,” I whined. “I missed you.”

Her frown eased and she rolled her eyes, pulling me into her for a warm, long hug. Still clinging to me, she whispered, “You okay?” A repetition of my question, this time posed towards me and asked in earnest.

I shrugged. “Better. That’s all I can ask for, really,” I said, pulling away to push her hair behind her ears. “Let’s go inside, hm?”

We struggled with my duffel bag for a good fifteen minutes, coaxing it over the lip of the front door, past the reception desk, slumping it against the wall as we waited for the elevator, pushing it with all our might into said elevator, and then, eventually, dragging it with whatever energy we had left into the apartment. I collapsed onto it with a thump and let my body lay limply atop the thing, a few secretly stored boxes poking into my side.

“Yuna! You can’t just ditch me in the middle of making kimchi-,” started a voice from the kitchen. A voice I knew belonged to-

“Haewon!” I called with an exhausted sigh, pushing myself to my feet as our friend emerged from the doorway on the right, deep eyes wide, black hair tied in a lopsided bun.

“Y/N!” she shouted before launching towards me, capturing me in what was more of a full-body attack than a hug.

I laughed, using the wall beside the front door for support to keep from toppling over. “Hi,” I said.

She pulled away and gave me a pout, her cheeks red from being in the kitchen so long. “Why didn’t you call to tell us you were coming home early?” she asked.

“It was a really sudden change,” I said. “That said, we have plans tonight.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Yuna, holding a finger up to seize my words. “You haven’t even told us how America was.”

I raised my brows. “America? It was cool. I saw a bald eagle.”

“What?” called Haewon, her arms still wrapped around my neck.

“I went up north. You know Seattle?” I asked, glancing at my two friends as they slowly nodded. “Well, north of there.”

“Y/N,” said Yuna as Haewon tightened her bun and released me, sitting on the couch with her eyes trained on me. “You’ve been studying abroad in America for a year and all you have to say is that it was cool and you saw a bird?”

“It’s a rare bird,” I defended.

Yuna sighed. “Oh my God, enough with the bird,” she said. “How was the food? Did you eat In N’ Out?”

I laughed and nodded. “I did. Oh! And I brought something nice for you guys,” I said, rushing to my duffel bag. I tore it open and moved a few things around until I found the two boxes I’d stored near the top. “Here you go,” I said with a proud grin.

“What…what is it?” asked Haewon from the couch, squinting at the skinny rectangular boxes in my hands.

I raised my eyebrows. “Girl Scout Cookies,” I said. “I’ve been holding onto them for a few months, but I think they’re still good.”

“A few months?” asked Yuna, her eyes suddenly dull as she looked at the boxes. “And what are Girl Scout Cookies?”

I gaped. “You don’t know?” I asked. “They’re like…an American classic. Little girls come to your door and ask if you want cookies and you buy them and then you eat the whole thing in one sitting and hate yourself. It’s tradition.”

“Are they expired?” asked Haewon with a grimace.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course not. You can only get them during a special time of year and-you know what? Forget it. I’ll eat them myself.”

“No!” shouted Yuna, suddenly interested in the cookies in my hands.

I stuck my tongue out at her and shook my head. “You had your chance. Begone, wicked one.”

“I really want them though! I’m sorry I didn’t trust you!” she called as I hopped over the duffel bag and hovered in the doorway to the kitchen.

“First you didn’t care about my bald eagle, now you don’t care about my Girl Scout Cookies?” I asked, a sneaky grin finding its way to my lips. “I’m offended.”

She launched herself towards me and, before I could turn into the kitchen where the heavy smell of garlic and fish sauce greeted me, she had grabbed both boxes, her hands creating ugly dents in the sharp corners.

“Hey!” I shouted, pointing an accusing finger at her. “Those are my gifts to distribute as I please!”

He cocked a brow. “And we are very appreciative of your gifts,” she said, tossing a box to Haewon. “What’s a thin mint?” she asked over her shoulder.

“It’s the best flavor. Next to Samoas,” I said, sighing as I leaned against the doorframe.

“Anyway,” said Haewon, examining her box with a soft smile. “Tell us about what it was like. Tell us the actual story.”

I raised my brows. “There is no story. It was fun. That’s it.”

Yuna looked at me, once again serious and putting a very serious damper on my mood. “Y/N…,” she said, giving me that knowing look that she knew made me anxious.

I shrugged. “What more can I say? Let’s just…make kimchi or something,” I said with a cautious look at Yuna.

She sighed, her arms crossed, a box of cookies in her hand. “We’ll talk more,” she said. “For now…what plans do we have tonight?”

Ah, she conceded. I grinned, joining Haewon on the couch and pulling my knees to my chest. “We’re going to a concert.”

At a quarter past ten, the three of us stood in front of a stout grey building in Hongdae, only a few blocks from our apartment. We all stood close as we braced ourselves against the chilly fall weather, huddled in front of the entrance. Yuna smiled beside me, nudging my side with her elbow as Haewon scrolled through her phone.

“I can’t believe you got us tickets to this show,” said Yuna.

I glanced at her with a scowl. “I told you, I didn’t get them. Jimin called and invited us.”

Haewon sighed as she tapped away at the screen of her phone. “Can’t believe you came home because a boy told you to,” she said.

I scoffed. “He didn’t tell me, he asked. And he was excited about it since he was the one who scheduled it for this day in our neighborhood. And I wanted to come home and surprise you. And he’s not a boy, he’s Jimin,” I said, counting on my fingers as I made each point.

Haewon lifted her eyes, her face alight with a blue electronic glow from below, and shrugged. “He’s in one of the hottest bands in the city,” she said. “I think he qualifies as a boy.”

“When you’ve seen him kick himself in the head and then cry about it you kind of stop seeing him that way,” I said with a laugh as I remembered the day when I was in third grade, just after I’d met him, when he’d been trying to pass a soccer ball to his friend across the field during recess and had accidentally smashed his forehead into his knee on the upswing.

“Let’s get inside,” said Yuna, hopping a little at my side. “I’m cold and there are cute boys to see.”

We waddled together into the venue which was already alight with the buzz of an anxious crowd. A beefy man inside demanded our tickets, which I provided in the form of the email Jimin had sent. He raised his brows and nodded gruffly, granting us access into what felt like an elite club of miscreants. People crammed together, filling almost every available space, leaving Yuna, Haewon, and me to try and force our way through the fray and into the thicket. My hand clasped with Yuna, with Yuna’s other hand clasped with Haewon’s, the three of us snaked through the hazy room, smoothing into vacant spaces in the crowd until we were as close the the stage as I could manage.

“Hey, you know all these guys right?” asked Haewon from beside me, her voice fighting with the din of the massive room for dominance.

I shook my head. “Just Jimin, Yoongi, and Jungkook,” I said. “And the second two I only know through Jimin.”

Yuna furrowed her brow as she stood in the middle and turned to me slightly. “Wait, you know V too, don’t you?”

I stiffened, blinking a few times, before shaking my head with a dismissive shrug. “Not really.”

“That’s not true though. You grew up with Jimin and-,” started Yuna before the lights went dim and, thankfully, cut off her train of thought. I didn’t want to board that train tonight.

A hush fell over the crowd, everyone speaking quietly as if the slightest noise might disturb whatever was coming. I’d been away too long, and I’d never seen Jimin’s band perform for such a large and excited crowd. Most of their rise had occurred over the course of the year I was abroad and, with a slight pang of guilt, I wondered if it had been hard on them.

I refocused on the thrum of the crowd, the jittery energy that seemed to pulse, to ebb and flow, through all of us. It was odd. I’d never known the band to have this sort of impact. Perhaps I really had missed a lot while I was gone. I remembered sitting in on band practice when the group was only a four-man operation in high school. We would sit in Jimin’s musty basement, using speakers Jungkook had stolen from his work at the electronic store. Back then I thought I could be their biggest fan forever, back before the band even had a name. Yoongi playing drum sounds from his keyboard, Jimin playing acoustic guitar, Jungkook singing his heart out, and Taehyung-

“Are you guys ready?!” cried a voice I recognized from backstage.

Kim Namjoon. Bangtan’s almighty leader. Thank God he’d come around when he had, just before college had begun for Jimin. From what Jimin told me, he made the group much more cohesive, more focused. He gave them a name, and he helped them reach their potential. That was what Jimin said at least. I wouldn’t have known firsthand, because by then I wasn’t going to shows anymore. I was always a fickle fan anyway.

“Make some noise!” he called again, and the crowd began to roar. The noise was deafening, but even despite the ringing in my ears I couldn’t help but smile. I was nervous, vibrating with anxiety, but melting into the crowd eased my troubled mind.

“Is that the best you can do?” asked Namjoon, his tone slightly disappointed.

Once again, the crowd went wild, arms flying, voices wailing into the dark venue. Namjoon chuckled into the microphone and I could barely register seven bodies walking onto the stage. The stage lights were still shut off, leaving the crowd in darkness, the only light source belonging to the stray cell phone screen floating above someone’s head here or there.

“Here comes Bangtan,” Namjoon said quietly.

A moment of silence.

A moment of tension.

And then…

A moment of rapture.

The stage light turned on, revealing all seven members as they stood behind their microphones. Jungkook had a hand on his mic already, grinning into the crowd. Boy, had he always had such remarkable stage presence? Gone was the goofy kid we used to tease about his bunny smile, and gone was the boy who, according to videos Jimin sent me, had not only a week prior gotten a chopstick stuck in his left nostril. In his place stood a young man with all the charisma of a rock star, eyes rimmed with what I could see from below was light makeup. Makeup! On my Jungkook!

Beside him was Namjoon, only this time he looked like a photograph. Long legs, guitar strapped over his shoulder, a smirk on his face and his hair dyed a particular shade of coppery blonde that caught the spotlight just right. He gave a sweeping glance across the crowd, offering a dimpled smile. On Jungkook’s other side was a guy I knew was named Kim Seokjin. Jin for short, according to Jimin. Another picturesque young man, standing dashingly in front of his own microphone, no instrument necessary to give strength to his presence.

Behind him, offset to the side, was Park Jimin, hair styled expertly out of his face, a honey color that suited his skin tone. I could see from my vantage point the glint of blueish contacts and stifled a gasp. He’d never been the type to wear those sorts of things! The mom in me wanted to hop onstage, grab him by the ear, and scold him for compromising his preferences for fame. But then I saw the bright smile on his face, a smile that outshone not only the spotlights, but the entire stage. And I smiled too.

In the back beside the drum set was Min Yoongi, fingers already settling on the keys, eyes resting half-open on the keyboard in front of him that obscured him from view. His hair was bleached and looked, at least from below, to be holding up well despite his lamenting about it on social media. I’d teased him about his hair falling out lately, and while he would usually fire back with a quip of his own when I teased, on this issue all he could do was agree with me.

And then, behind him, was a smile that stole the breath from my lungs. The smile was attached to a cute face with eyes squinted against the stage lights and a jawline so sharp it cast shadows on his neck. Mystery boy’s hair was fluffy, probably styled that way, and fell just above his eyebrows which he rose in a silly expression I wouldn’t have expected from a drummer in a rock band. The crowd still screamed around me, and as they did the drummer transferred his right drumstick to his left hand so he could raise his pointer finger and thumb in a little heart that had my real heart thumping in my chest.

The girls in the crowd shouted in response, a magnificent display of hormones amongst the sea of high-pitched wails. I smiled and Yuna leaned close to me to shout in my ear, “Who’s the drummer?”

I shrugged. “Dunno,” I said, then turned to her, still unable to stop my grin. “But I’m in love with him.”

She laughed and nodded, but didn’t argue. I returned my attention to the boy in the back, wearing a wildly printed button-down shirt and that shining smile. But before I could enjoy the view, motion to the right of the drummer caught my attention and, to my great distaste, I glanced to the side to capture it.

And there he stood.

Kim Taehyung.

Or at least, what I thought was Kim Taehyung. His hair had been dyed a shade of silver I couldn’t name and was growing past his eyebrows, shaggy around his head and unrestrained. His features looked the same, but somehow not. His lips were still the same rosy color I remembered, his cheeks still high, his shoulders still broad, his neck still slender, large hands still holding the same bass guitar he’d had since high school. His eyes, although sporting grey contacts, were still his. But something about him was completely different. A year can really change a person…

Before I could dwell on it, the drummer smashed down mightily on his set a few times and, with that, the song began. Jungkook and Jin started belting into their microphones, singing a song I could recognize only vaguely from clips Jimin had sent me when I was abroad. Jimin and Namjoon strummed steadily, Namjoon occasionally adding a riff that struck me as particularly pleasing. The beat was heavy, with emphasis on the drums, and thusly emphasis on the drummer. I couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t look away from the joy on his face.

The music continued and as it did, the crowd began to bounce, almost in sync. On instinct, my hands lifted to the sky with Yuna and Haewon, all of us jumping in time with the others. All of us were sandwiched, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, chest to beck. If we lifted our feet, I suspected we would have stayed upright with how closely packed everyone’s bodies were. There was an electricity in the crowd, a kind of syncopation that was hard to put to words. Jungkook and Jin continued singing, backed up by Jimin now and again. I was content to continue with the concert that way, focusing only on the members I could stand to look at, and would have enjoyed the evening far more if I could have managed it, but like he always did, Taehyung seemed to steal my attention without even trying.

His husky voice blasted through the speakers around the warm venue as he sang a few lines. The lights focused on him and he shut his eyes as he began to really feel the rhythm. As much as I hated myself, I had to admit that he was a natural. Something gave me pause, however, just as he was about to finish. His spotlight flickered slightly before petering out, leaving him in dimness as he sang and played, unaffected. A few of the other stage lights came on and turned off until, for a split second, the back light flashed, illuminating him from behind. And, if only for a moment, it was just like my dream. His form was eclipsing the sun once again. My chest ached because, just as the spotlight returned and he slowly finished his verse, the boy I used to know seemed to be shining so brightly it hurt.

“Park Jimin!” I shouted as I approached my friend backstage. He grinned when he saw me and held his arms wide and, with his invitation, I rushed into them. “For someone so small you give really big hugs,” I remarked, only to be greeted with a sharp smack to my arm. “You did so well.”

Everyone had cleared out by then, security ushering them out into the cold autumn night, leaving behind the damp floor and the humid air of the venue for the sharp bite of nighttime wind. Yuna and Haewon were going to stay and meet the guys, but during the final song someone spilled a full can of beer on Haewon’s sweater, leaving her wet and irate. Yuna said she’d take her home. When I’d offered to accompany them, both of them told me not to take another step and urged me to meet up with Jimin anyway.

Only meeting up with Jimin meant meeting up with everyone.

And that was something I didn’t really want to do alone.

“Come inside!” Jimin chided, still beaming from the praise, leading me by the shoulder through the threshold of an open door. Surprised, I saw all manner of sweaty young guys, drying off or settling into lumpy couches or removing makeup roughly with wipes. Conversation was boisterous, and the atmosphere was rowdy enough for me to slip in without notice.

I flushed as my eyes caught on the fluffy top of someone’s brunette head and I turned back to Jimin before I could get caught staring at that drummer. “Oh,” said Jungkook at the vanity, turning to see me with a face half-streaked with makeup. “Hey,” he said before returning to his task.

Jimin scowled. “You’ve been gone a year and all that kid can say is hey,” grumbled Jimin at my side. “Thanks for coming back a day early by the way! I really thought today was the right day.”

I shook my head as he led me inside, pulling a chair from the corner and ushering me to sit down. “It’s fine. I wanted to support my little Jiminie,” I said, grabbing for his cheeks and finding them much less pinch-able than before.

“I am also your friend,” said Yoongi from the corner, typing away at his laptop without once lifting his eyes to meet me.

I thought a moment. “Yeah, but you don’t care if I support you or not.”

He pursed his lips as he mulled this over and then gave a shrug. “Fair.”

Jungkook turned to me again and frowned. I raised a brow, silently asking what his problem was, and he simply puffed a little and rolled his eyes. “Hey, are you egging me on?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Well why?” I asked. “I just got here!”

“I sent you a Snap a day ago and you opened it but didn’t respond,” he said.

I scoffed. “A day ago I was in an airplane.”

“Didn’t the plane have wifi?”

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

He fumed for a moment before his contemptuous gaze turned soft and he chuckled. “Did you bring me a souvenir?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s a postcard from Yellowstone,” I said, then thought. “I forgot it though.”

He gaped. “You forgot it?”

“I remembered Jimin’s gift,” I said, rifling through my satchel with a smile as Jimin bounced below me, settled criss-crossed on the floor. I produced the silver chain and let it dangle in the air between us.

Jimin’s eyes flashed before they went wide and round, snatching the necklace before I could even explain what it was. “Is this a new chain?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I got a little pendant for it too,” I said, pointing vaguely in the direction of the trinket.

He turned the small silver circle at the bottom of the chain around to examine it. “Are…are these your initials?” he asked.

I nodded. “At first I bought it for myself but I thought it was too long so I’m repurposing it.”

“I believe the technical term for that is ‘regifting,’” said Namjoon from the sofa beside me.

I’d been deliberately avoiding the right side of the room, careful not to let my gaze linger anywhere it shouldn’t. “Even if I gifted it to myself to begin with?” I asked, brow furrowed.

He laughed and shook his head at me. “I’m Kim Namjoon, by the way.”

“I know. Jimin tells me everything,” I said.

Namjoon’s eyes went wide and he turned his gaze to Jimin who by then had snapped the necklace around his neck and was fiddling with it gently. “Does he?”

Jimin nodded. “You know we’re childhood friends.”

“Pretty shitty friends if the only gift she gives you is something she bought for herself and didn’t want,” said Jungkook with a look over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes. “That’s not his only gift,” I said.

Despite his age, Jimin was still as excitable as a child as he looked up at me. “Wait really?

I nodded. “I also may or may not have found a signed Haim album at a music store in Portland.”

“What?” he shouted.

“Jimin?” said a voice from the right.

Damn the right.

I turned to be polite and came face to face with the drummer, his expression soft and kind as he peered at both me and Jimin. I went stiff as a bone under his gaze, unable to say or do much of anything.

“Yeah?” said Jimin.

“Who’s this?” he asked with a laugh. “I’ve been waiting for you to introduce her,” he said. Man, even his voice was handsome.

I chanced a glance to his side and saw Taehyung, face buried in his phone and feet propped up on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Had he even noticed me? And more importantly, the drummer had been waiting? My heart thumped.

“Oh! This is Y/N. She’s my childhood friend,” he said with a sweet smile. “Tae’s too.”

I winced at the last part, crossing my legs and waving lightly at the members I hadn’t met. All two of them. Jin was resting against a wall on the floor beside Yoongi, playing with an acoustic guitar. He stopped only to give me a smile and a nod. And that left only-

“My name is Jung Hoseok,” said the drummer, smiling gently.

I returned it. “Nice to meet you.”

“So stiff,” said a voice I wasn’t expecting. I turned to face Taehyung who was suddenly staring directly at me, a wicked smirk on his lips. “You’re still as awkward as ever.”

I raised my brows, lacing my fingers atop my knee. He had some nerve. “Mm, and you’re still intolerable.”

He nodded his head. “Glad to know some things don’t change.”

“My sentiments,” I said, returning my attention to Hoseok who by then was shifting uncomfortably. “Sorry. He gets under my skin.”

Taehyung snorted and sat up straight. “You’re just testy,” he said, looking at me with a cold indifference that briefly hurt.

But I was grateful, at least, that our interactions were bristly. Better this than the alternative. “Mhm,” I said with a smile.

“Anyway,” enunciated Jimin with a cough into the crook of his elbow. “Y/N has been gone in America for a year studying English. She goes to Hongik.”

“Jesus, is this an interview?” asked Taehyung, groaning as he resumed his previous position, leaning back so far his chin nearly brushed his chest, scrolling easily through his phone. “Listing her specs?”

“At least I have specs to list,” I said under my breath.

He shot me a sharp look before returning his focus to his phone. “Ah yes, an English Language and Literature degree from an art school,” said Taehyung with a snort. “How could I have forgotten?”

I smiled to myself, shaking my head. He could be such an incredible dick. A rush of memories flooded back to me of his worst moments: the time he’d made a girl cry after she confessed to him in high school, the time he’d called Jimin’s mom and got him in trouble when Jimin had stolen his favorite pick, the time he’d gotten so upset over a particular song he was learning that he snapped at me and told me not to talk to him anymore. The guy had a penchant for pushing buttons and watching the chaos. I wasn’t sure how or why he’d picked it up. I supposed that somewhere along the way someone told him that getting far meant getting mean, and he’d taken it to heart.

“Um, what is this?” asked a high female voice from the doorway behind me. I turned to face her, a young girl of probably twenty or so, dark hair brushing her shoulders in a tidy line, eyes a peculiar shade of greenish brown. Did everyone start wearing colored contacts in the year I’d been away?

“Oh hey!” said Namjoon with a smile. “We were just getting ready to leave.”

The girl raised her brows and crossed her arms. “Funny. Doesn’t look like you’re getting ready,” she said. Her petite face said she was happy, but her sarcastic tone said something different.

Namjoon glanced around the room and, with a dismissive shrug, looked back at the girl. “Is there really a rush?”

She sighed, gripping the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “Yeah kinda. Just…the fans are gonna figure out where we’re parked eventually and you remember what happened in Itaewon,” she said.

Taehyung snorted in the corner and glanced up from his phone. “Yeah. A girl threw her shirt at me and another one grabbed my-,”

“Enough!” called Jimin from beside me, waving his hands.

Taehyung chuckled some more to himself. “Anyway, if you guys could maybe…pick up the pace? That’d be sweet,” said the girl. She looked a little too young to sound so tired.

“Sunny,” whined Jungkook from the vanity with a makeup-smudged smile.

“Lighten up.”

“If I don’t keep you guys on track nobody will,” she defended with a pout. “It’s like herding cats.”

Hoseok gave a bright smile. “Hey, we’re all really appreciative of what you do for us, right guys?” he asked, prompting a series of grumbled, distracted responses from the rest of the guys.

Sunny, at Hoseok’s comment, beamed for just a moment and I caught the way her cheeks went a little pink. Did I have a right to be jealous? “Thanks. Ah, and who’s this?” she asked, pointing a painted finger at me.

I raised my hand in a wave and smiled. “I’m Y/N. Just a groupie.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” she murmured with a pointed look at Taehyung that he didn’t see past his phone screen.

“She’s not a groupie,” said Jimin, giving my thigh a smack. “She’s my friend.”

“Oh…well, at any rate you guys really need to get a move on. If we don’t get outta here soon we’re gonna get flooded again and-,”

“Sunny?” called a distressed female voice from the black abyss of backstage.

Sunny stiffened and glanced over her shoulder. “Shit. That’s Mijin. Have you guys even gotten you’re outfits back on the rack yet?” she asked, her breathy voice rising with frustration.

The guys glanced amongst themselves, clearly spent from the concert as they could hardly move their heads, and Taehyung groaned. “Oh my God, if I wanted a lecture I’d go home,” he said lowly.

“Maybe you should,” teased Jimin with a laugh. “Your mom texts me now to see how you’re doing.”

“Really?” I asked, then cleared my throat as Taehyung looked at me sternly.

“Just…please get ready to go. I’m not gonna ask you twice,” said Sunny, sweeping her pointer finger across all of the boys to seize their attention. Their attention remained steadfastly un-siezed.

Namjoon nodded at her with a dimpled grin. “We will!” he said, but even I could tell it was an empty promise.

She sighed and gave one last furtive glance over her shoulder before turning on her heel and jogging down the hallway until the blackness beyond enveloped her entirely. At Sunny’s exit, the guys began chattering easily once again, having forgotten her warning as quickly as they’d heard it. As I looked around the room, I realized that none of them were quite working at…full capacity. Yoongi was still caked in makeup, Taehyung couldn’t be bothered to change out of his stage clothes, Jin was playing with a guitar he’d gotten from who-knows-where, and Jungkook was still struggling with the same wipe he’d been using when I arrived. I faulted Sunny on weak execution, but perhaps she had reason to be concerned for them.

“So, your stage outfits,” I said to Jimin softly as he fiddled with his necklace. He turned to me and smiled. “Are they yours or are they costumes?”

“Not really…costumes per say, but they’re special outfits that our stylist picks out and then holds onto,” he said, pointing to his flannel. “I already put mine away. Mijin is getting them all dry-cleaned so she asked us to hang them over there.” He pointed a finger towards a rack in the back of the room, just behind Taehyung’s head which explained why I’d missed it.

I sighed and walked a few paces forward until I was settled right in front of the devil himself. “Hey,” I said to him, my voice awkward to my own ears.

He peered up at me with suspicion before his eyes focused again on his screen. “What?”

I shifted my weight from foot to foot, trying desperately to think of some way to speak to him without sounding strange. It was a horrible, novel dynamic between the two of us. But as I remembered the exhaustion in Sunny’s face, I couldn’t waste more time. “Strip,” I said with crossed arms.

His eyes went wide and he stared up at me like it was the first time he’d seen me. I reveled in it for the second or two it was there: a brief glimpse of innocence which was, predictably, replaced with a lecherous grin, his gaze roaming up and down. “Well, why didn’t you ask sooner?”

I rolled my eyes and gave the side of his leg a kick with the tip of my black boot. “These clothes don’t belong to you. If you ever wanna leave this sweaty room I suggest you change.”

He raised his brows and then, without much of a fight, stood to his feet and walked roughly past me, presumably to find a bathroom in which to change clothes.

I cleared my throat, struggling past my fluttering stomach, as the guys resumed their leisure, and sailed up behind the vanity. “Jungkook,” I said, catching my reflection in the mirror as I stood at his flank.

He turned to me and blinked a few times, eyes wide. “What? Why are you so close to me? What are you trying to do?”

I chuckled and grabbed for a second wipe, handing it to him. “Take it from a person who wears makeup recreationally, you’ll need more than one. It’ll make it go faster,” I said.

Jungkook took it gingerly and, with an air of caution, began rubbing his skin with the damp thing, eyes never once leaving mine in the mirror. “Thanks,” he said, tentative.

I nodded and set my sights on Yoongi. “Hey, Min,” I called across the room.

Lazily, he lifted his gaze to meet my eyes. “Hm?”

“If you don’t take off that stuff,” I said, pointing to my own eye, “you’re gonna get an infection.”

He scoffed. “Will not.”

“Bet,” I said with a smirk.

For a moment the blonde boy wavered and then, as if possessed by the spirit of fear itself, he shut his laptop altogether and grabbed for the bag of makeup wipes Jungkook was holding. Namjoon eyed me from his spot on the couch, one eyebrow cocked and a small smile on his face. I tried not to notice the look of a hatchling plan in the brown of the leader’s eyes, because I had a feeling I knew exactly what he would ask.

I was never cut out to be a manager anyway.

Before he could approach, I slid past Jimin and into the doorway. “Guys, if you’re not ready by the time I get back I’m gonna take my boot and smack each of you upside the head. Respectively,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Jin as he plucked discordant notes. He blinked at me before setting the thing aside and settling into Yoongi’s previous chair.

“Wait where are you going?” asked Jimin from below, turning his pout towards me.

I smiled. “I’m gonna check on Sunny. You guys seem…short-staffed,” I said. “I’ll be back in ten, maximum.”

I quickly swiveled and walked out into the darkness of backstage, pressing myself close to the wall so I wouldn’t be in the way of the tech crew dismantling equipment. Having seen how frazzled the young girl was, I was anxious to locate her to see if I could help out, if only a little. I wandered for a moment, passing workers who didn’t bother acknowledging me with a smile or even a bit of eye contact. If nothing else, the atmosphere bred anonymity. And that was always welcome. I meandered around to the right side of the stage. Or was it the left? Jimin was always the one who did theatre when we were kids.

One thing I did know was that I was nearing an exit, as I felt the cool rush of breezy autumnal wind bracing against my skin in slender drafts. I pressed a little closer to myself, moving my chin to my chest to keep from losing more heat to the night. In the distance, I heard a toilet flush. I shuffled along the walls, shambling aimlessly in search of any sign of that hapless manager, perhaps a hint of that lilting voice, a ghost of her dark hair disappearing around a dark corner. But I was met again and again with nothing but crew until-

My body collided into someone else’s launching the both of us backwards and sending me into a heap on the floor where the drafts were far chillier. I shivered as I regained my bearings and shook my head.

“Shit! Are you alright?” asked a voice I knew all too well.

My heart thudded. “It’s me,” I said, rubbing my arm as I stood to face Taehyung looking much more…Taehyung than before.

His hair was restrained with a black beret, his torso fitted with a white shirt and a jacket that seemed too thin, wearing the loafers he’d bought with his first paycheck from the art supply store in high school. He’d yanked his black face mask down below his chin as he appraised me, suddenly with a lackadaisical indifference.

“Ah. No harm then,” he said before brushing past me.

Only the backstage corridor was cramped and his shoulders were too wide. He’d made no accommodations for me and, once again, sent me stumbling. This time I had the wherewithal to catch myself on something before I collapsed, seeking purchase like I had when we were kids on his trampoline and for once finding something to steady myself.

But, of course, it was the pristinely hung outfit he was carrying to the back room.

I yanked the black sweatshirt from its hanger and, with a sick feeling in my stomach, I heard a seam rip. “Shit,” I breathed as the fabric lay limp in my fingers.

Taehyung turned, eyes wide, and stared at the sweatshirt, now with a gaping hole in the side. “What did you just do…?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing! You shoved past me! You know there’s not much space back here!” I shouted, pointing my finger at him.

Taehyung mimicked me. “You should have moved!”

“Why should the world bend because you’re walking through?” I shouted.

He scoffed. “Why should the world bend because you got back from your joyride year abroad?” he shouted back.

I gaped up at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“We scheduled this whole concert around you!” he yelled. “Jimin and Sunny had to organize everything and here you are! Breaking shit!”

I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t even scheduled to come home today, you idiot! Jimin got the date wrong!” I said. “I had to pay an extra two hundred dollars to change my flight! Now I’m gonna have to work doubles to pay rent!”

“Well you’re gonna have to pay a lot more to replace that!” he retorted with a smug grin my way, pointing to the sweatshirt.

I hadn’t noticed in the low light, but as I glanced at the thing now, I happened upon some red detailing on the arms. Hastily, I turned it over to get a better look and, to my horror, I realized what it was. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” said Taehyung with a laugh that I couldn’t help but feel was sadistic.

“You know I’ve always had a thing for Gucci.”

“You just perform and sweat in a Gucci sweatshirt?!” I shouted. “You just lounge in it? Casually? Gucci?”

He shrugged. “Hey, I didn’t buy it. We used our ticket sales to purchase our performing outfits. And it’s not me you wanna be talking to right now,” he said, grinning.

I shook my head. “No! I refuse to take responsibility for this, Taehyung!”

He shrugged. “I dunno what to tell you,” he said, leaning down close to me. I could feel his breath against the skin of my neck, ruffling my hair. He smelled like he used to, faintly of lavender. He chuckled, the breath of it sending shivers up and down my spine. “You break it, you buy it.”

“Ugh,” I said, shoving him away by the chest.

He began to laugh again, and before I could tell him off Namjoon’s voice beat me to it. “What’s going on back here?”

I turned to face in in the low light and noticed a small smirk, the one he’d worn before, had worked its way back into his features. How much had he heard? “What did you break?”

“Namjoon!” called Taehyung with a whine, suddenly pouting as if he were the victim. “She ripped my sweatshirt. The one I wear for concerts.”

I gaped at him. “You goddamn traitor,” I whispered under my breath, to which he only cast me a wink without turning his head towards me.

“Oh,” said Namjoon, but his smirk said it all. He’d seen everything.

Behind him a small figure came running and as she approached his flank, I realized it was Sunny. “Oh no,” she said, pointing to the sweatshirt. “That’s not-,”

“It is!” said Taehyung, crossing his arms.

“I’m so sorry. It was a total accident,” I said, my voice quick and frenzied.

Sunny’s eyes were wide, her mouth agape, one slender hand touching her cheek. “That’s gonna cost…like, fifteen-hundred dollars,” she said.

“W-What?” I asked, shaking my head wildly. “No, I can’t afford that. I…I haven’t even started working again. I’ve only been back a day. I-,”

“Slow down,” said Namjoon, that immobile smile still sparkling in the darkness.

“Let’s talk this out.”

“Namjoon, I’m really sorry but you know it was an accident. I-I work at a coffee shop. I’m not gonna be able to pay for this,” I said, shaking my head. Tears had begun to well in my eyes, but I kept them at bay by steeling my gaze, clenching my jaw.

Sunny sighed, her brows knit, and her head fell to the side slightly. “This is really messy,” she said, exhausted. I’d only wanted to lighten her load, but I’d inadvertently added to it…

I noticed Taehyung eyeing me in my peripheral. He was scanning me, picking over me with a fine-tooth comb. He knew me well enough to know my tells when I was trying not to cry. After all, the last time we’d seen each other I was wearing this same expression. I noticed him lean towards me, almost microscopically. If he thought he was having a moral crisis now, it was far too late. I took a half step away from him.

“If you can’t pay,” said Namjoon, tossing his head this way and that, his tone sensible. “Then work it off.”

“What?” said Taehyung.

“Excuse me?” said I.

Namjoon shrugged and placed a hand on Sunny’s shoulder, bringing her limp form forward as she stared ahead, still slack-jawed. Presumably still in shock. “Our lovely manager is in over her head.”

“W-No! I am not!” called Sunny, regaining her senses with a frown.

Namjoon raised a brow. “You sure?”

Sunny cleared her throat and looked towards me. “I mean…I offered to manage you guys when you only had two-hundred people at your concerts. I had no idea it would get this big. I guess…I’m a little overwhelmed.”

I stared up at Namjoon with furrowed brows. That stupid plot he’d been cooking in the backroom had needed only a catalyst: a catalyst I’d all too eagerly provided. “Wouldn’t you like some help, Sunny? Like…a co-manager?” asked Namjoon with a bright smile.

Sunny pursed her lips in thought. “I always kinda considered Mijin my co-manager, but she’s too busy keeping you guys pretty so…,” she said, then turned to me, appraising me. She looked me up and down. “Hm,” she said. “With a little polish…yeah, maybe you could work.”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I…classes start on Monday and I work part time and-,”

“If you don’t have the time, then you can just pay for the sweatshirt instead,” said Namjoon with that stupid smile that felt anything but comforting.

“Jesus,” I breathed, glancing briefly at Taehyung and catching a glimpse of worry in his expression.

“Listen,” said Sunny, approaching me and grabbing for my hand. I lurched away before letting her hold my fingers. “You got the guys to listen to you. That’s something Mijin and I have been trying to do for a year.”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t make me a manager.”

“It kinda does. I’m…I’m doing my best, but I’m making careless mistakes lately. It’s too big for me to handle alone,” said Sunny, her voice reeking with desperation.

I cringed a little. “I-,”

“She messed up the date for the concert today,” offered Namjoon, to which Sunny gave a glare his way.

“Pretty sure that was Jimin’s fault…,” I mumbled, but my words fell on deaf ears.

“He’s right. I’m not doing the best I can because I’m spread too thin. You wanna help me, right?” asked Sunny with a smile.

Looking down at her, at that innocent, hopeful grin…I saw a bit of myself. Who I was before I left. I stiffened and looked at Taehyung who was now staring at Namjoon, as if trying to communicate something nonverbally to his leader. I tried not to notice the way his jaw strained sharply, the way the scant lighting made his skin glow.

I didn’t want to spend more time with this particular skeleton. I wanted to let him, like the rest of them, become a ghost, a whisper that only appeared in my mind when I passed a certain ice cream shop or bowling alley. But it seemed some skeletons were more stubborn than others. And it seemed that fate wasn’t ready to shake Kim Taehyung from my life just yet.

I sighed and turned towards Sunny. With a painful twist of my lips, I said, “I’ll do it.”

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fanfic #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts reader insert #bts au

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