@virulentism-blog / virulentism-blog.tumblr.com
“I won’t let you be on your own, not when you’re like this.”
REACTION MEME: BRUISED AND BROKEN VERSION: currently accepting.
When he attempts to stand on his own, his knees cave in and he collapses before his father. He struggles to move, wraps an arm around his torso and presses his palm onto the floor as he, once again, ardently tries to push himself up and arise. He ultimately fails; punished with one kick, then another, and another, until his body came in contact with the wall. He’s seated upright, hand clamped over his mouth to stifle the reverberations of his coughs and control where the blood ended up. Taeyong thinks of how pathetic he must look right now, beaten down by the man who has worked so fucking hard to build him up; to turn him into the ideal puppet he is today.
“Father,” he says, because that’s the only thing he could say at the moment. Anything else, especially when he wasn’t asked a question, and he just might receive his second beating tonight. Hence why he chose to restrain himself from saying anything other than what was needed thus far. His head falls back against the wall and he looks at the elder through half-lidded eyes, slipping in and out of consciousness as he tries to assimilate his father’s words. Everything was incomprehensible – in his case, at least – and he couldn’t possibly keep up.
“Are you listening to me?” No response.
“Lee Taeyong.” Silence.
Unlike usual, this silence of his was neither a choice, nor an option. Both were beyond him.
@runest:
[SMS: not g dragon] are you questioning my girl now? not cool man [SMS] im omw rn [SMS] texting n driving and being illegal just 4 u ♥ [SMS] fine what about without the sugar
(sms: ignore) I’m not questioning your girl, i’m questioning you. (sms: ignore) Don’t be a fucking stupid. Stop texting me and put your phone away. If you continue, you might get an accident. (sms: ignore) —and I don’t want to be held responsible if that happen to.
He doesn’t supply any more than what needs to be said, he never does because he thinks it’s as pointless as a whore would be in a monastery. His phone is locked, the screen goes black, and he slides the device into the back pocket of his jeans.
Mother Nature welcomes him into the night as soon as he steps out of his apartment complex, enveloping his entity in her cold, fanciful arms. He shivers, feeling the crisp winter air blanket across the exposed skin of his face, neck, and hands. Taeyong considers returning indoors to head up to apartment to grab a pair of gloves, but opts for an alternative by shoving his hands into his pockets after he tugged the visor of his hat further over his forehead, the ends of his overgrown fringe dusting above his eyes. It has gotten noticeably colder in South Korea, the temperatures continuing to plummet as day turns to night, as they go deeper into Winter. Each time he breathed, he could see his own breath dissipating into the atmosphere above.
As of ten o’ clock, the temperature stands tall and proud at a chilling seven degrees celsius. He’s made it approximately halfway to the Han River on foot, and assumes that he’ll arrive in another fifteen or so minutes; twenty at most.
He’s forced to stop at the end of a crosswalk when the pedestrian light flashes a bright red, a single hand appearing on the dim screen. Cars passed by, whereas others stopped. He made the mistake of looking to his left because his gaze eventually met with an infant seated in the backseat of a black Honda Civic. He stared at the girl for no more than four seconds, and by the end of those five seconds, she was in tears. He earned a dirty look from both the father and mother, but paid no heed to either as he crossed the walkway, passing through the narrow trail that led straight to the park’s grounds.
Taeyong grabs the first seat he sees on a lone bench, located directly across the river bank. He tips his head forward, eyes fluttering shut.
the greek godly parent quiz.
Your godly parent is Hades, The God of the Dead and Wealth, Lord of the Underworld.
Children of Hades usually are isolated and used to doing things alone. Your solitary existence makes you susceptible to being very wary about strangers, and while you appreciate and crave kindness, you might feel offended as you believe you don’t need any special treatment. Children of Hades appear calm and quiet, but can be passionate with joy, love, or rage when situations arise. Because Hades oversees law and conduct, children of Hades tend to have a set definition of acceptable morals, and require a lot of help to change their perspectives. You are extremely protective of the small circle of people that you trust, and any insult against them is an insult to you, which you will not forget anytime soon. Despite being honorable, misunderstood, lawful, intelligent and hardworking, children of Hades can have a darker side too, warping these traits into cunning, ruthlessness and deviousness. More often than not, the good rules over the bad, and children of Hades operate in grey areas to ensure that they achieve their end result.
Qualities: Solitude, intelligence, diligence, protectiveness, honor, lawfulness, bitterness, cunning.
Tagged by: @jaenv Tagging: ––
#( his face basically says#i would rob all the stars from the sky if it meant you would always be surrounded by love and happiness and never once doubt the light in#your heart thank you for your existence#)#( whAT A MOUTHFUL ) - FCKING GET A ROOM
"h-hyung." he was caught red handed, there were people who raided his home a few minutes ago, before he escaped. jaehyun was holding his phone when they entered, they grabbed everything that they wanted, torn every research he made, and took the creation that he was about to finish. it was kuro who once again licked his face to keep him conscious, soon feeling that he needed to head out to get some help as they stole a lot, he went to taeyong, to a person whom he trusts the most. "they took it."
inside his apartment, there were hundreds to thousands of things that needed to be dealt with. but in this moment, he neglected everything for the sake of his best friend, jaehyun, who came to him during their time of need. he learned of what happened and was pissed.
taeyong stands near his bedroom door, arms crossed over his chest and gaze glued to the floor. he’d been staring at it for well-over three minutes now, ruminating how he intends to handle this situation. but before he does anything, he knows he’ll need to do some research on this nameless group; learn of who they are, what their motives are, and how they operate. when he hears jaehyun speak, his eyes immediately advert and fixate over their persons. he has never seen them like this before and, quite frankly, he doesn’t know what to make of it.
“what did they take?”
arms unfurled, heel pressed to the doorframe. he pushes himself away from the door and makes his way across the room, grabbing a seat on the unoccupied spot beside them. his hand falls over the back of their head, tentatively caressing his hair. taeyong thinks he’s the absolute worst when it comes to comfort and assurance, though he'll always try his best. “don’t force yourself to stay conscious if you can’t. if you need to sleep, then close your eyes and get some.” he furrows his brows, fingers gliding through their ebony tresses. “i won’t let anything happen to you, alright? you’ll be safe with me.”
@passiflor:
sua almost laughs at the absurdity of it all; what kind of shitty heist movie did this scene come straight out of? light glints off the fragmented crystal, tiny rainbows scattered across the polished floor. sniffles and scared murmurs bounce off of the walls and around the great hall as the masked intruders strip the attendees of their riches one by one. she doubts they’ll be coming for her— hopefully thieves with the audacity and ability to break into a gala will be able to tell her knockoff designer clutch from the real thing— but what she really wants to know is why the hell this man is protecting her and not any of the other guests. after all, she’s just here to serve as a foil to rest of these glittering socialites.
she doesn’t question it when the man calls her by her name and tells her to get up; any misgivings are immediately overshadowed by her own selfish desire to get the hell out of there. she pulls herself up into a crouch and hopes to god that they don’t notice her move. suddenly, she’s whisked up to her feet and before she can process anything, more gunshots go off and she hears glass and metal crash onto the floor. sua holds onto the stranger’s arm and shrieks along with all the other guests in attendance.
one. two. three. four. five. six. seven more startling shots until the room is shrouded in inky darkness, and sua hears husky, threatening voices from across the ballroom. her ears are still ringing and she can barely make out the features of the man in front of her, but she can vaguely see his lips move into two words. “we’re leaving.”
well, obviously, she’d have said, if not for the rather delicate circumstances.
eyes wide and heart pounding against her ribcage, she keeps her mouth shut and nods. she can’t tell if she’s shivering from the cold (it turns out satin isn’t the best for insulation) or if she’s really just shaking because she’s… scared.
sua lets herself get pulled along by this total stranger, her heels crunching down on broken crystal as the pair walk briskly towards the exit. she can still hear the masked men shouting— a quick glance over her shoulder tells her that someone has the flashlight on their phone open. it would have been a little funny if this all had been a movie; a dramatic shoot out, the artistic value of all of that swarovski crystal lying smashed on the dark floor, the stupid comedic relief of a fucking phone flashlight in that giant, dark room.
they’re almost out the door when sua stops walking. “what about everyone else in there?” she hisses urgently, her hand tightening around the man’s forearm. now that the exit is in sight, sua feels some tension ease out of her muscles, but what’s going to happen to the people still inside? she’s not too concerned about their money and jewels— they’re rich, a little mishap like this won’t even make a dent in their bank accounts— but she worries about their physical wellbeing, albeit a little late. (anyways, how suspicious would it look if she was the only one that escaped? the last thing she needs is another scandal in her life of minor celebrity.)
“we’re not just leaving them there, right?” her brows knit together delicately, turning towards him. she couldn’t just leave like this.
taeyong memorized the map of this mansion like it was the back of his hand. he knew of every twist and turn, knew where each hallway led, and knew which path led to the exit. tables were turned over as he walked, chairs fell, and vases broke. he made one hell of a mess out of the homeowner’s mansion, though his intentions were as pure as snow. they were being pursued; hunted down and shot at. they needed some line of defense, didn’t they?
had she not stopped him, taeyong would have continued until they were out of the mansion. he turns to face her, mild annoyance blanketed across his countenance as his gaze met hers. he dislikes this type because they make his job harder than it should be. he was specifically ordered to attend the gala, look after sua, and ensure her safety if anything were to happen – not to play superman and save the day. “why are you worried about them when you’re safe?” he deadpans, removing her hand from his forearm. “i noticed how you treated them earlier. your smiles were feigned, and your laughs were forced. from what i’ve observed, everything in there seemed impersonal.”
but when he looks at her again, he feels himself freeze. he could ignore the look she was giving him, but what he couldn’t ignore was his own morals gnawing at his conscience. taeyong feels torn, forced to choose between two different options: either he abide his father’s commands and force sua to leave with him, or he turn around and save the others.
he’s well aware of the consequences that will arise when news of his defiance reaches his father, but he smothers the thought behind this next move of his: he ignores the incessant blare of his boss’ screams and shouts through the speaker as he reaches for his earpiece and tears it out of his ear, crushing it within an enclosed fist. when he looks at sua, again, he’s already in the midst of retrieving the baseball cap he kept hidden inside of his blazer, unfolding it before putting it – rather harshly – on hers, tugging down on the visor until it covered a good portion of her forehead. quite rude of him to do, really, though it meant no harm. “go outside and find someplace to hide. if you don’t see me after fifteen minutes,” pausing briefly, taeyong, once again, digs his hand into the inside pocket of his blazer, and fishes out a pen. he takes her hand, scribbling down an address onto her skin. “flag a cab and go to this address. tell them taeyong sent you. they’ll take care of things from there.”
he doesn’t give her time to respond before he’s already maneuvered her around and urged her towards the exit with one push, palm compressed firmly against the small of her back. “hurry up and go.” another push, then a sigh. “if you stay here, you’ll only get in my way.”
mask pulled over the bottom half of his face, gun wielded in his hand. he pivots on his heels, returning down the path he once traveled. he expects a challenge; not from his pursuers, but because he’ll have to work in the fucking dark.
[SMS: not g dragon] my gf says everything about me is cute n i trust her more than u [SMS] u know when u say don’t be late imma be late just to get on ur nerves [SMS] i can’t believe ur using me for $$$ now [SMS] will u at least call me ur sugar daddy?
(sms: ignore) are you sure about that? (sms: ignore) don’t. be. fucking. late. (sms: ignore) considering what you do, i can’t believe you still haven’t paid me back. (sms: ignore) let me think. (sms: ignore) no.
via. repost, don’t reblog.
the realist
traits: practical, understanding, honest, brutal, logical, creator, intelligent, sensible, down-to-earth, reasonable
the realist is most commonly used to symbolize the highest possible outcome in a dire situation. they are the ones who have everything planned, and hand out reality checks as if they were pamphlets to those who need them–which, quite honestly, is everyone who isn’t a realist. although they can be harsh (brutal truth over merciful), they are nurturers and care more than they let on. realists tend to do things that will lead to the best outcome, and use their knowledge of reading people to manipulate situations and problems in order to get out of a rock and a hard place.
fictional characters that are realists: hermione granger, dana scully, thorin oakenshield, lestrade (from sherlock), leia organa, willow rosenberg
other personality types that go with this: ravenclaw, horned serpent, poseidon, artemis
tagged by: @jaenv tagging: ––
( msg. ) I bought a new pack of coffee, want to try it with me?
(sms: jaehyun) is this your way of subtly asking me to go out for a cup of coffee with you? if so, consider it done. i’ve been bored at home. come over with the coffee and keep my company. (sms: jaehyun) bring kuro, too. i have something for him.
@jaenv
it is 7:40 in the morning, class begins in a little less than an hour, and he wasn’t even halfway to school yet. taeyong casts a brief glance down at his wristwatch, looking at the time displayed on the clock. it takes sixty minutes to travel from incheon to seoul by train, with an additional twenty to walk from the station to the snu campus, and another five to make it to class. in sum, it takes him approximately one hour and thirty minutes to commute to school on a daily basis – if he feels like going. another glance is taken, though this one falls over the other snu students around him. unlike them, taeyong doesn’t care if he’s late, and that much is evident in the way he tugs his cap further over his forehead and leans against the window, his eyes fluttering shut.
since he has time, he might as well use it to catch up on rest.
by the time the train arrived at the station, taeyong made sure he was the first passenger out. he’s been commuting to school for nearly three years now. he knows how frustrating it is to be caught amidst a throng; especially amidst of throng of students who were fucking desperate to make it their classes on time. as expected, though. he tucks his hands into the front pocket of his jeans before he leaves the station, sauntering along the pathway leading to the snu campus. he travels in a leisure pace, almost as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. many students ( primarily those who rode the train with him ) were frantically running to class, pushing past everything and everyone that stood in their way. someone bumped into shoulder, and he bore no intention of letting them pass without a consequence. he’s gripping onto their wrist, forcing them to turn around and face him. when taeyong speaks, his voice lacked amiability. “what’s the point of rushing when you’re already late? whether you arrive in one minute or ten, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still late. slow the fuck down, and watch where you’re going.”
and as if their altercation never happened, he released them from his grip and continued on.
9:10am. taeyong ignored the looks his professor and peers gave him when he entered the lecture hall, and headed straight for his desk: back row, beside the window. he unpacks his things ( his textbook, notebook, and pen ), before he grabs a seat on the chair. ebony irises habitually wander around the room, and he notices jaehyun’s absence. where could he be? taeyong sits up straight and removes his phone from his pocket, sending a message to the younger.
(sms: jaehyun) are you not coming to school today?
