So, me and DimensionalQueen like to bounce fanfic ideas back and forth. This time, we were looking at fanart, and I GOT THE BEST IDEA EVER. I know I make Taehyung fanfics a lot, but this is important! Here's some pictures that inspired me. Happy Reading! <3
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I must of been hallucinating. As I looked up from where I laid in the middle of the street, I saw the impossible.
The person looked just like me as I looked up, watching as they moved forward. They had platinum blonde hair, which was unlike me. I couldn't see their face from how far away they were. Black, silky wings sprouted from their back, seeming to cascade over them. They were almost big enough to brush up against the sides of the buildings. The person wasn't human. They looked almost like it, though. My messed up mind was incoherent at the moment.
I looked back down at the ground, placing my forehead on the concrete gently. My fingers curled into the hard rock. I could feel the bright lights of the empty road shining down on me. The night was cold, enough to raise goose bumps along my skin. My cheeks were soaked with tears. Shaky, hot breaths escaped my mouth.
I must of been dreaming. I had been having a lot of those bad dreams lately. Someone would always come to me in them, always screaming or crying. I would always be in the oddest places as well. But this was real. I was awake. I could feel my surrounds. I could sense everything. My eyes begged to close. My wounds burned. What was I to do but lay there, incapable of doing anything?
"What are you doing on the ground? Get up."
I bit my lip, my teeth sinking into the tender flesh. I could feel a spill of blood flow into my mouth, the iron mixing with my saliva. The voice sounded so familiar. The person looked like a lot like me from afar besides for the hair. Who would have wings, though? Who would be walking down the streets in the middle of the night, looking like something out of a movie?
"I said get up!"
"I can't!"
"Hell yes you can! Now, get up!"
I looked up at the person with a glare. My eyes trailed up their body. Their shape looked familiar. I swallowed down the blood, my dry throat being soothed by it. My eyes fell on their face, my mind cloudy for a second. Finally, it came into focus.
They were me. They had the sharp jawline. They had the brown eyes. They had the face that every girl swooned over. But this me looked alert. He looked like me from the past. The me that didn't get into fights or get drunk. This was the me that was forgotten and put away, too soft to ever come back out.
"Are you getting up or what?" I said, my eyebrow raising up.
"I told you, I can't!" I yelled, my hands turning into fists. I felt like punching the ground, but blood was already spilling out of my knuckles. There would be no point of hitting the cement.
It was like a lightning strike. I suddenly kicked myself in the gut. I doubled over in pain, bile raising to my throat. I heard myself yell. "I said, get up!"
I felt some type of liquid fall from my lips that came from my throat. I coughed a little. I could feel more iron dance across my tongue, filling up every corner and crevice. It made me want to gag and puke what I had left in my stomach. I closed my mouth, swallowing down what I could. Who knew I could be so abusive?
"Stop acting," I said, my voice seeming to be a mocking tone. I could imagine myself holding in a laugh at the sight of me in pain. "This is nothing."
I gasped for a little breath, licking my lips. I could feel how bloody they were. Tears slipped from my eyes. I closed my eyes, placing my forehead on the street again. I could imagine myself looking down in disappointment. Was I always so disappointed in myself? "Get away from me."
"You're pathetic," I said, my voice gone dark. I could imagine dagger shooting from my eyes into the back of my skull. "You're pathetic and you know it. Why don't you just end it all now like everyone says you should? Why don't you just give up?"
"I . . ." The words were caught in my throat, choking me. Or was it the blood? I coughed a few more times, blood drenching my lips once more. "I want to prove myself wrong . . ."
"Just give up," I said, my foot kicking the top of my head slightly. "Give up and fall into my hands. Do it, and every deed you ever did is done. You'll be set free. Fall into my arms. I won't let you go. I will be there to comfort you. You can't turn any of this around. You will NEVER find who you truly are until you give in."
I bit my lip once more. I was right. I could give into myself. I could finally be somewhere else but the horrible world. I could be who I truly was. But the more I thought about it, the more I was starting to disagree with it.
I slowly looked up, my eyes meeting mine. Staring at the eyes of myself, I felt like I was overcoming myself. I gave a deep frown, my hands pushing myself up to sit.
"Get out of here," I growled. My knuckles hurt as I pushed on the street surface, but I ignored it. "I'm going to count to three, and by then you will be gone. You will be nothing, and I will carry on. I will change. I will find a home. I will get a girlfriend. I will be safe from your arms. Now . . .
"Three.
"Two.
"One."
YOU ARE READING
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