in which jeongguk wants his blood sucked, jimin needs a blood bag, yoongi is lonely and taehyung misses the stars.
bts | urban fantasy au.
#666 in taegi
#469 in taegi ):
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TAEHYUNG'S TAXI COMES quickly considering it's a Tuesday at 2 am.
The lanes are devoid of motorists that clog up the system and churn out pollution responsible for the layer of fog so thick above the city that the natural sun and moon can no longer penetrate it. In their place, glowing neon lights leak stories of generations who anticipated the world to be a wonderland by now.
In their naïve fantasies, this period should have been a breathtaking time of robotics, health, efficiency. Flying cars and tubes should be the methods of transport, but be better for the environment. And, while a few of those things have been achieved, they've only made the world more polluted, slower, and more sketchy.
Taehyung doesn't remember a time when he'd seen past the light pollution into the sky— caught a glimpse of the stars that burn and twinkle like tiny towns.
Call him a hopeless romantic, but there's just something about the idea of being able to gaze up at the sky and see for miles into galaxies of constellations that dance across canvases of navy and violet, beside the person he loves most in the world and know that not even celestial displays can compare to the adoration in his eyes.
He'd heard they had been beautiful. The stars. But he'd never seen them. Not once. No one cared about them enough anymore to paint, speak, or share photographs of them.
After B850 declared them useless to recreate, they become nothing short of a memory. A daydream for Taehyung, the boy who longs for the things that can never be fully tangible to him. That's why he makes this slightly sad trip tonight.
If he can't hold the constellations on his fingertips, watch them flourish above his head, then he will find his own galaxy in the wake of someone else's eyes.
His headphone's blast harsh electronic beats that even his fingers cant find the structure behind after years of studying music; tapping blindly against the cool plastic rim of the car. They fly above the metal apartments, all rural areas abolished to make way for tiny compact houses stacked on top of each other for miles.
A rusting jungle, that's what it is.
Vines of power lines, connecting each house to the eye sore of the power station on the hill, incomplete without it's constant churning out of a smoke so thick and dark that it makes your lungs feel sticky. And the animals of the hard, grey, forest floor— they all are hunted by both other creatures and their own kind. Be it for criminal, economic, or sadistic gain. Budding flowers created from fairy lights weep into the darkness of the sky, and everything is always moving.
And, as the bright lights of the inner city burn down into flickering beacons every mile or so, Taehyung knows he's close to Fifth Avenue, the sketchy corner on which he'll find the object of his desire.
"Just here is fine, thanks," He leans forwards, words short and polite as he places a hand on the back of the passenger seat.
The driver halts in his tracks sceptically, dipping down into the labyrinth of a street. The car then spits the boy out and skids off hurriedly, growing so small into the distance, leaving Taehyung completely alone in the unfamiliar area.
