Mask Parade || BTS X READER

Chapter 28: Blamed Victim

⚠️Sexual (minor)/Triggering/Gore Scenes

June 23, 2019
Sunday
10:45 am

Throbbing aches formulated at the base of Taehyung's jaw, as if some lazy torturer is standing beside the male to only apply enough pressure to be an annoyance. He sat on his oldest brother's office couch, waiting for him to return back from answering a phone call. Seokjin strictly forbid the male to leave his office because there was still many untreated bruises that needs to be dealt with, so Taehyung was bored, tired, and hungry due to all the waiting.

"Ahh finally, a companion," the electric haired male smiles amusingly as he stared at Namjoon entering the office, "to what I owe you for visiting me? A rare sight to see you here knowing that you've never really attached yourself to any of my businesses unless it directly affects you."

"You're my brother. That alone directly affects me," Namjoon responded.

"Is that so?" Taehyung continued on with his fake smiles, fighting the from the frown that wants to break out.

"Your sarcastic tone isn't appreciated."

"Funny... everything that I do is never appreciated in your eyes, Namjoon."

"Taeh—"

"Yes brother?" He cocked a sly grin. "Were you about to reconcile with me by using your calculative words? You know... I've been noticing how for the past couple of days, you've been trying to get closer to me when you've  always seen me as the black sheep of the family."

"Is it wrong to try and make amends with you? Look, I know that we haven't properly have a decent conversation ever since—"

"I was raped by our own mother?"

"Yes... that."

"When I was raped by our own blood, you simply wanted to ship her off to another country instead of making her atone for her disgusting actions. If Seokjin hyung was never here, that bitch would've never been killed. You were always a mommy's boy— after she was killed you turned your back to me, blaming me— the fucking victim— that it was my fault that she was killed. You didn't talk to me for months or even acknowledge my presence. So you being here, saying that I being your brother directly affects you is complete and utter bullshit."

The frustration and resentment from Taehyung's blue eyes displayed the broken boy he was, the boy who was scarred by his own mother. Namjoon discerned the pain beneath his brother's ocean irises and his soul drowning in this persona he'd carved to hide his broken spirit.

Looking at Namjoon's green, jade eyes— the same exact ones their mother had— steals Taehyung's brain from his skull and mis-wires all the synapses. Somehow, he can no longer think straight and if he attempts to force his brain to work, the result is nothing but scrambled logic trying to piece together the indecipherable fragments. Every feature Namjoon possesses precisely replicated Mrs. Kim's so as the youngest looked at him now, his mind flashed to the night he was drugged, stripped down, traumatized, and used like an object to escape the dreadful reality. He could still remember his mother's encroaching touches going up and down his skin, violating each square inch of his body for her own sexual pleasures.

He cried day and night. He didn't want to, didn't want his brothers to see how weak he had gotten, didn't want to be more of a burden to their fractured family. Taehyung couldn't help it though. His second oldest brother made him feel like it was his fault that their mother did that to him; Namjoon stated that their mother was already mentally ill and going near her was asking for it.