#'self-loathing with a god complex.....damn bitch me too'
Text
Judging you for your bsd kins except im a fucking cunt about it also im not including images because im in chemistry fuck yourself if that bugs you
if you point out the fact that these get longer as they go on then die pls <3
Dazai
Well arent you Unique. not like 90% of the fandom kins him or anything, cant say i dont kin him myself of course but i dont Kin Him i just kin him seriously tho if dazai is your top bsd kin stay 500 feet away from me and maybe take a bath while youre at it. your sense of humor is probably just uncensored depraved sexual posting and its fucking annoying shut up please. hardcore dazai kinnies suck so so bad but god damn you are all so annoying and i want to fuck you so bad (derogatory) i can make u worse babygirl please dm me. you need psychological help and not in a omg ur brocken way.... in a you should be lobotomized and pushed off a bridge way (affectionate)
Atsushi
do. do atsushi kinnies exist i thought that was just another word for furry. idk ill try my best um embracing my inner akutagawa kinnie pls kill yourself and kiss me on the lips. man seriously tho i didnt know atsushi kinnies were real are they just akutagawa kinnies in anger management. idk um. whore. bet u have an awful haircut. is that why you kin him fucko did you see the gay little tiger and his awful haircut and go hes just like me fr fr. is this your truth. your backstory. bitch.
Akutagawa
starting this off by saying if u kin him and ur ablebodied u should die. i dont think his disability is that relevent to his Angst but i love to be a hater. if u are disabled then cmere baby lets kiss im self loathing too hows ur relationship with ur dad. i bet ur bangs r why he left u. yeah i said it fuck you and your bangs. self callout i havent cut my bangs in 288485 years but its fine. i think we dont talk about the fact that akutagawa is canonically hot. as an akutagawa kinnie im allowed to say all akutagawa kinnies are hot unless ur one of the following. 1. ablebodied 2. have never lived in poverty 3. cis 4. idk fuckin. from michigan my akutagawa headcanon is that he hates michigan fuck yourself if ur from michigan
Ranpo
ranpo kinnies are such a mixed bag bc half of them are actually cool people who are probably autistic and the other half are the kids who thought they could genuinely solve the kira case. if u interpretat his lore as oh hes gifted kid burnout i think u need to sit down and tell me one time when hes burned out ever except the one part with mushitarou (is that how u spell his name idk hes ugly (affectionate)) yes honey i understand that youre too smart for this world and above everything but please go to bed you have school in the morning. if youve ever made an edit of ranpo to one of those like. little miss perfect type songs or averager or something please stay the fuck away from me. those songs fuck but god u are annoying
Yosano
ok real talk what is her backstory not even in a pretentious oh the writing is bad way i mean it in a i cant fucking read this is a cry for help someone please explain it to me. ok onto making fun of you. sterotyping is bad but also literally no yosano kinnie ive ever seen hasnt been nmlnm (non man loving non man) like this isnt even me being like haha ur a lesbian this is just a fact you like women dont you. seriously tho what is there to say about yosano i dont think i can comment on this shes property of the gays im sorry live laugh yosano ig
Chuuya
just spilled energy drink in my tits anyways if you were one of those kids slash still are one of those people whos like omg im so short and chaotic im a smol angry bean ill take ur knees out than im revoking your chuuya kin card 'oh but lucien you cant-' dont care didnt ask plus you only care about chuuya in the context of dazai. if you havent read stormbringer and u kin him shut up the adults are talking. i technically havent read stormbringer but my babygirl @chaotictransmess mansplained it to me so im infinitely hotter than all of you. please god please dm me if u kin chuuya and arent fucking annoying my legs are spread please baby
Fyodor
oh so ur a dazai kinnie (individuality complex edition) and youve read edgar allen poe wow.....ur one of those people who shits on others for saying crime and punishment is too long. NO ONE CARES THAT YOU READ THE WHOLE THING ITS LONG AND BORING AND YOURE A VIRGIN KAY WHY ESS SWEATY. this isnt directed at my beloved rowan ofc you can do no wrong /p fyodor kinnies are an unholy intersection between the worst dazai kinnies and the worst ranpo kinnies please shut up no one cares how fucked up you think the world is you live in suburbia shut up shut up shut up shut up. you absolutely used to lie on the internet to say you were french or russian or something in like 7th grade.
Nikolai
do you actually kin him or are you an XD crackhead. you probably go oh yeah my music taste is pretty wild and then its willwood and the cats the musical soundtrack. if youre an actual nikolai kinnie and not just an edgy 14 year old please stay away from me. not in a oh em gee ur so twisted way no u probably just smell bad and dress ugly and i dont want to be seen with u. you probably jokingly hit on your friends and jokingly make fun of them and no one finds it funny. dont worry babygirl i'll appreciate you like they never could please give me a chance. nikolai kinnies are hot as fuck until they arent. not saying anything else nice bc any validation you fucks get goes straight to your cock.
Kouyou
...mommy? 🥺
Poe
do you kin poe or do you wanna fuck ranpo so bad but you have too much internalized cringe to read x reader fics. ive said this 7 times but jesus fuck bsd fans shower challenge. you were one of those kids who got mad into those like. talking animals series but not like warriors and animorphs kids no im talking guardians of ga hoole. you wanna write so bad but anytime you fuck up you cry and bash your head against the wall and listen to mitski again i am sneaking dog anxiety meds into a hot dog for you. i cant even be mean on this one yall r like dying puppies who live in allies jesus yall bum me the fuck out
Kyouka
i havent seen anyone else kin kyouka so im doing this for myself ig. suprisingly enough despite being a massive cunt i kin the uwu smol bean of the fandom. kyouka isnt a smol bean ofc bsd fans just cant read i think. guys shes murdered people all she did was cry about it a few time guys pls shes not ur poor meow meow shes a traumatized child
Kunikida
the token Bsd Fan That Showers. guys pls kunikida kinnies this is a cry for help no one here has even read the light novels Heple. seriously tho i cant think of anything mean to say about kunikida kinnies. not like any of you would admit to kinning him publicly bc u think kinning is below you. ik being like omg ur 'insert sex thing' is cringe however no kunikida kinnies fuck its part of the job description please get laid
final thoughts
ok so basically like. 1. tell me if u want me to make fun of any other kinnies 2. yada yada yada this is all in good fun i didnt mean any of this pls dont spam report me badly dressed 15 year olds of tumblr 🥺🥺🥺 3. before one of you failed abortions decides to come in my notes like 'oh man does making fun of people make u feel better about yourself. we're just having fun ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️' the answer is yes it does make me feel better about myself i am a hater first and a person second and also i dont care if ur just having fun guess what fuckwad im having fun too now shut up <3
ok but in all seriousness i dont give a fuck who you kin and why and you shouldnt care about my opinions i want to fuck monty gator from fnaf and i kin the little gay elf wizard from the adventure zone and one time i ate gum off the floor cringe culture is dead girl if wearing an ugly trenchcoat and a amazon body harness over a death note t shirt makes u happy go do it. but in a genuine note a word to the bsd fandom PLEASE LEARN READING COMPREHENSION JESUS FUCK FOR A FANDOM REVOLVING AROUND A SERIES ABOUT DEAD AUTHORS YOU GUYS LITERALLY CANT READ ANYTHING EVER SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP anyways xoxo girlie pls like and subscribe like i said give me requests for other bsd characters making fun of people is my passion
#THE KOUYOU ONE IS A JOKE GUYS PLEASE#bungou stray dogs#bsd#dazai osamu#dazai bsd#atsushi nakajima#atsushi bsd#akutagawa ryuunosuke#akutagawa bsd#edogawa ranpo#ranpo bsd#yosano akiko#yosano bsd#chuuya nakahara#chuuya bsd#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor bsd#nikolai gogol#nikolai bsd#kouyou ozaki#kouyou bsd#edgar allen poe#poe bsd#edgar allen poe bsd#kyouka izumi#kyouka bsd#doppo kunikida#kunikida bsd#tw suicide mention#give me more requests this was fun yeehaw
37 notes
·
View notes
Note
♡ + family
Headcanon Meme:: or in the OC verse...This shit is Canon
//accepting
Family and Catalyst are a very complex and twisting topic that often times contradicts itself as he grows . Unfortunately he never had the Cadre Alliance to help him out ( or use him cough) but he also didnt have Xforce or anyone else in his corner. Hes been doing this all solo and thats why hes...An absolute counter intuitive wreck.
Sooo heres a write up since Im in pain and need something to focus on
tw for mentions of abuse,neglect, underage alcohol consumption, and all around Mojoworld Shittiness. If you know much about Mojoworld you know this is literally portrayed in canon I did not make this shit up okay i swear.
So Mojoworld doesnt have family units as we have them. There are no parents and there are seldom children. Children are in a tube being fed videos of violence and bloodshed (canon), they are taken out when they are capable of independent locomotion (something the spineless ones find absolutely disgusting. tune in next time for me to talk about how deep catalyst’s self loathing and self image and concept is affected by this).
Prior to this they are given a purpose and destination; entertainment- bands,singing, stunts,etc, servents, builders, farmers and harvesters, gladiators, and pets. Yes yes that is canon and yes I hate i had to write that.
Catalyst was ‘born’ Isaslan III and placed in the gladiator class to ensure peak anxiety +complex stress to make sure his mutation would activate. But he was also place in intense gameshow and survival show like programming during the off season to try and further speed up his mutation because Mojo is impatient.
Mojo is the godhead, the master programmer, all things lay in his hands.He places the young into units and has them train together in combat with more seasoned gladiators as their trainers. Each creche has a strict pecking order and depending on the personalities of those involved and their trainers the creche is either combative and competitive over their resources or co-operative.
Isaslan III had a co-operative creche, he just was rarely with them when they all weren’t exhausted so he didn’t get much in the way of interaction. When he did it definitely made up for it.
The gladiator class all refers to an internally reinforced honor system and they call each other intimate terms ‘brother’ ‘sister’ ‘friend’ are all used (canon). But it is more of a kinship with suffering and survival than with each other.
Isaslan III would consider them family if he had been with them a bit longer. But after his second season he was taken from the creche (most of his ‘siblings’ had since been killed in combat and only 5 of the original 12 remained) and taken to the more seasoned area all as part of Mojos plan to force a premature mutation. This was his first lost family.
Isaslan III didnt meet anyone else he would consider having a ‘family’ or any sort of bond with. Unless we consider the parasite like way Mojo and Arize both used him. Nah, not until Earth and god it just gets worse.
Here we have an alien who basically treats the world like GTA or any other simulation because Fuck if he knows if this is REAL or not and he doesnt know what LAWS are or how to read or ANYTHING and what does he land in? A fucking bar.
This is the second fucked up ‘family’ like situation he lands in. A bunch of adults who think the mutant kid who ‘likes’ to fight is ‘funny’ and they give him so much alcohol whenever his mutation acts up and it just goes spiraling downhill from there Once he realizes this is all..A big joke he moves on but hes sworn off the idea of finding ‘family’ or anything like that.
Especially because his ideas are all based on modern cinema. Like he has 0 concepts outside of cinema and fucked up life experiences.
He doesnt consider his mutant town folks family, hes pushed family away as being something he isnt worthy of because it just isnt possible for him, or so he thinks,. He maintains a very distant, cold attitude whenever anyone pries too much or he feels hes becoming dependent on someone.
It makes therapy a bitch and trying to make friendships that seem, full, is extremely difficult. Instead he feels chronically acting and never actually genuinely connecting with others. He gravitates towards others like this; Laura (x-23) being an amazing example of this.
He falls into roles faster when he is older or more powerful than another person ie:” Livvy, Gabby, in some cases Laura (Logan Verse). He is invested in keeping them alive and caring for them but it can be very robotic at times and very much at odds with what is acceptable in terms of safety because hes taking what he learned in Gladiator school, in his creche and mashing it up with modern movies and yes he did try and teach Livvy how to kill someone with a lollipop okay yeah he did.
So the thought of having donors? aka: parents? Terrifies him beyond reason. Hes been raised to believe he can do nothing but fail them, and has it hammered in his head from one too many conversations with Mojo that they will kill him on sight for his own loses in the arenas.
Despite all that hes sorta...Really wanting parents. He really wants that support and guidance in his life. But itll take two years of intense therapy for him to cut the ‘i do not have fathers I have donors’ walls hes built up around himself.
His guilt and shame feed into Mojo’s brainwashing all to form a damning concoction that makes even considering reaching out to ricto.r or shatt.erstar almost impossible.
Though when i do get to write with these characters Catalyst’s curious and inquisitive nature ALWAYS gets the better of him and his progression actually speeds up a bit. TBH I genuinely miss those threads since it really strips all the characters defenseless and sometimes its so AWKWARD and its GREAT.
You can see him playing along with the role when with someone like Fabian Cortez where he willingly falls into a fake family dynamic, knowing full well fabian is manipulating him but he just doesnt care and is too depressed and he just wants to know even if its a lie what thats like. His early life on mojoworld prepared him to act like an idiot under the nose of arrogant men. He knows what hes doing and he has accepted the price this fake family costs him.
Still for Catalyst to genuinely feel like he has a family or to be a part of one will take years for him to build solid strong connections with others and probably a mini series or spin off or two where he gets to play supporting roles for them.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Be My Nightmare Ch10
A New Beginning
Mild gore warning, but you guys have seen worse in this fic already. Enjoy!
Word Count - 4,502
~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~
________________
Within twenty minutes, you had your ancient beater of a car parked in your usual spot. Normally a coffee cup and a few wrappers littered the passenger side, but lately you’d had the time to clean it out. The damn thing clattered every time you took a sharp turn and the windshield featured a widening crack, but it got you from point A to B and that was all you really cared about.
Well, that and the sound system. It drowned out the clatter, after all.
Cold stone walls loomed over you, but their shadows were far from the unfriendliest thing you’d encounter here. You sighed and faced the music, locking your car with a deceptively cheerful chirp.
Even after only two days away, the facility seemed foreign as you entered the lobby. The smell of antiseptic that you almost never noticed overwhelmed you, the overly bright fluorescents blinding overhead. Was it always this bright? How hadn’t you noticed? Ridiculous, you should’ve worn your sunglasses.
“Dr. Waras! What are you doing here?” cried a familiar voice behind the glass panel hiding the counter. Sandy hair and brown eyes set in a face the female patients couldn’t get enough of. You approached with a smile.
“Hi, Rob. I’d like to speak with Malphas, is he in?”
“Yeah, I think so. I… I’ll have to escort you, I’m sorry,” the young man said, eyes shifting away.
Indignant heat pooled in your cheeks. How absurd. You worked here, this was your home! A babysitter only added insult to the already painful injury.
Calm down, it’s not his fault.
You paused to swallow your anger and offered an understanding nod. “That’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“It’ll be just a sec, gotta have someone take over.”
You sighed and turned away, heading for one of the pastel armchairs dotted around the room. Outdated magazines lined tables here and there, a water cooler gurgling happily in the corner. Landscape paintings covered sections of the horrible plaster, as if seeing a grassy meadow might ease the discomfort of being here. A waiting area like any other, but one you hadn’t been forced to wait in since interviewing for your position.
Never one to sit idle, you pulled out your phone and settled into an open seat. It wasn’t like you had a reason to check it, but the slim device brought comfort. Plus, as long as you looked busy, people wouldn’t bother you.
Hopefully.
It was a slow day, only a pair of brown-haired girls sitting nearby. One was crying, but besides that they seemed normal enough and you put them out of your mind.
After a few minutes of mindless scrolling, Rob came to fetch you with another apology. He led you through the first security gate and down the long hallway toward the administrative wing. By the time you reached the second gate, the uncomfortable mood became too much.
“How’s Ken doing?” you asked.
Rob shot a hesitant look your way. “Uh, I’m not sure if it’s okay for me to tell you…”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t blame him. “Of course. I’ll ask Malphas, then.”
The rest of the journey passed in awkward silence. Rob was a kind man, you had no complaints about him aside from his lack of courage. Not that you held it against him, after his years of running intake. Poor man saw the worst of the worst, the patients before any treatment. When they were at their lowest and most agitated point.
Finally, the heavy oak door to Malphas’ office greeted your hungry gaze. Closed,oddly enough. He liked keeping it open most of the time. Some nonsense about encouraging everyone to stop by and chat.
Rob knocked on the door and sent another worried look your way as a deep voice called for him to enter.
“I’ll wait here, to escort you back out. I uh, I hope it goes well.”
“Thanks, Rob. I appreciate it,” you replied, pushing the door open without a pause. Might as well get it over with.
“Dr. Waras! What an unexpected pleasure. You should've called,” the grandfatherly head of the facility greeted with a hesitant smile.
He doesn’t seem pleased to see me.
You stepped inside and clicked the door closed, bracing for a battle of wits as you took a seat across from his desk. Maybe you should've stayed standing, sitting put you in a position of subservience.
If I stand up now, it just looks like indecision. Damnit.
“What can I do for you?”
Pushing aside your doubts, you met his gaze with a firm stare. “I’d like to know if you’ve made any progress on reversing my suspension.”
Malphas glanced away, as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. Not a good sign.
“Well, it’s become considerably more complex since the patient has begun terrorizing the city.”
You snorted and crossed your arms. True, no one who knew the murderous artist could doubt his involvement, but what proof did they have?
“Bullshit. There’s no way to prove he’s involved.”
Wrinkled fingers brought the man’s foggy lenses to his tie for a vigorous cleaning as Malphas collected his words. “True, but you know as well as I that when he’s caught, if you’re on the active roster it won’t look good.”
You pursed your lips and tried to keep your voice even as heated anger tinted the overstuffed bookshelves behind his head blood red. Fucking PR bullshit. “So it’s all about appearance, then? Your only reason to keep me out is the press?”
He sighed and returned the glasses to his face, blinking to force his eyes to adjust. You were shaking, barely holding back words of utter rage and frustration. Not good, he wasn’t likely to reinstate you if you came across as an emotional wreck. You needed to rein it in, now.
Change the subject. Something less complicated.
“Can you at least tell me how Ken is doing?”
Malphas sighed, blinking owlishly at you. “I’m afraid not. Patient details are privileged information, and you aren’t currently affiliated with his care. I cannot share any details with you.”
A small smirk twisted your lips. He revealed enough. “You used the present tense. He’s alive, then.”
Malphas bit his lip and looked away again. Honestly, who did he think he was talking to? The man told you himself that someday he wanted you to take his place. He knew your intelligence, why did he act like he could fool you?
A long moment passed in silence, both you and Malphas searching for the right phrase to move forward. Even with the sting of his actions, the man had your respect. He’d done so much to help you start your career, more than anyone else. You didn’t like being angry with him, or the resentment that built every day he didn’t bring you back. There had to be a way back to the previous state of your relationship.
You released a breath and pinched the bridge of your nose. Conflict was exhausting. “Look, just… what can I do to make this all go faster?”
Malphas’ wizened eyes met yours, tinted with sympathy and understanding. You struggled not to get defensive. You didn’t need his pity, it served no purpose. What you wanted was his agreement.
“There’s nothing you can do right now. If something changes, I’ll let you know. For now, you just need to be patient.”
Fine, this is getting me nowhere. Waste of time.
“Please do. I look forward to coming back to work.”
The epitome of professionalism, you extended one hand to shake his as you gathered your things to leave. He seemed relieved to see you go, adding another tic in the column towards rage.
Poor Rob led you back to the lobby without a word. You knew you weren’t doing a good job of hiding your emotions, but right then it didn’t matter. It was too much, to have every aspect of your future in the hands of another.
As if dealing with Malphas wasn’t enough, when you turned the next corner beside Rob, there stood Kotomi. Her heels clicked against the floor, her nose buried in a patient file. Like nothing had changed. Maybe she wouldn’t look up. A single word from her perfectly colored lips and you feared your already tenuous self-control would snap.
“Hi, Dr. Ishida,” Rob said.
God damnit, Rob!
Her eyes shot up and widened as they landed on your face. The rhythmic tap of her shoes halted as she froze, lowering the still-open file.
“Rob, Dr. Waras… what are you doing here?” she said with a cautious smile. “Are you back?”
With Malphas, you had a damned good reason to keep your cool. He controlled your career, your future. If he perceived you poorly, the consequences were dire. Kotomi was a different story.
“No,” you growled, glaring daggers at her. “Thanks to you.”
Her face fell, tears gathering in her pretty eyes and shoulders slumping as she looked away. Twisted superiority filled you, a strange sense of pride at being able to dismantle her normal cheer so easily. She was pitiful, so weak for just a few words to destroy her so violently.
The woman clearly didn’t know how to handle conflict - first during the fire, and now today, she somehow made it this far without developing the skills to handle a crisis. Life must’ve treated her tenderly, but that was fine. Karma’s a bitch and you didn’t mind serving as its tool if it meant you could show everyone how useless she was.
You paused at the direction of your thoughts. They echoed a darkness you saw in your patients regularly, a vindictive pleasure derived from others’ pain.
What the hell is wrong with me? Making someone else feel bad shouldn’t make me feel good!
Before anyone had a chance to react, you turned away and headed for the next security gate, each step faster than the last as if you could outrun your confusion and self-loathing. Rob followed a beat behind, but he had the good sense to keep a respectful distance other than buzzing you through the gates. Smart man.
You couldn’t leave fast enough and paid little attention to the passing beige halls. Harsh words had never been difficult for you to summon, but rarely did you speak them aloud, and never before had doing so brought you such satisfaction.
Where did that come from?
Somehow you made it back to your car unscathed, without bearing the weight of untold judgemental stares. Practice trained you how to block them out, anyway.
Yet no defense blocked your own judgement.
Untinted windows did nothing to hide your stricken face as you sat in the parking lot and stifled sobs. This was stupid, Kotomi deserved it! She’d stabbed you in the back and hadn’t bothered to apologize!
And yet… Even if she deserved it, that didn’t change the fact that you enjoyed tearing her down. You enjoyed watching her smile shatter, her joy wilt into pain. Reveled in the knowledge that you were, in fact, better than her.
Am I, though? Am I better?
A buzz in your pocket broke the cycle of self-hatred as an alert lit the screen of your phone. This better be good, you were in no mood for more bullshit.
Oh, for the love of… are you fucking kidding me?
What was the purpose of this conversation? Idle chatter? Who cared if the sunrise was pretty, there were bigger things to worry about.
In a strange sense, it almost made you miss Kotomi. Her chatter never required thought out replies, instead providing a break during which your mind could wander. She helped you fit in, made you feel like less of a freak. Like maybe, just maybe, you actually belonged somewhere. You didn’t tell her much about your past, but it’d been nice to have the option. Look at you now, your only companionship offered by a lunatic.
Does it make me a lunatic to enjoy our conversations?
Probably.
Another choked sob slipped from your lips, the pit of your stomach sinking into the floor mat. Instead of changing the face of medicine, you were a scapegoat. A martyr, sacrificed on the altar of society’s paranoia. You were meant for more than this, you’d spend years building the scaffolding for your success.
And for what?
The lit screen in your hand called out for a response. Dwelling on this black mood didn’t help, you needed to shake it off. Keep moving. Push it aside and focus. You’d been through worse, right?
You sighed and wiped the tears from your eyes. It didn’t make any sense to go to an insane murderer for advice, but who else did you have? Everyone you thought was an ally stood within the nearby building, probably laughing at you and cracking jokes about your suspension.
Who could blame you for turning to the one person who cared enough to ask something as mundane as if you’d seen the damned sunrise? Besides, who would he possibly tell your secrets to?
You sniffled and a twisted note of laughter slipped from your lips. It was nice, for someone to take your side and not blame the entire fiasco on you. A rare luxury, having a friend.
Even if he was a murderous psychopath.
You stared at the words for a full minute, stunned beyond coherent thought at his offer. If you were chatting with anyone else, it might seem like a joke. But with V?
He’s dead serious.
You cringed. Poor choice of words. Talking to V, you couldn’t afford to let your guard down even for an instant. It was foolish to talk to him at all, let along make jokes. Had you seriously just thought of him as a friend? What was wrong with you?
Get your shit together!
A chill raced down your spine. What was happening to you, to seek solace from him? You’d be better off if you never answered him again.
But somehow, you already knew you would.
—-V—-
V sighed happily and leaned back, scratching at his scalp for the hundredth time that morning. The change was necessary, but damn did it itch!
“What a fruitful exchange,” he murmured.
An encouraging sign, that you opened up to him willingly in such a way. It showed a level of trust or desperation he hadn’t been aware of. He didn’t care which; either suited his plans.
As long as you came to rely on him, the reasons didn’t matter.
Still. Someone had hurt you. A female, one whom you worked with. A fellow doctor, perhaps?
No…
A wicked grin twisted his lips. Of course, the Asian woman from his painting. How perfect, he already longed to skin her alive. Now, perhaps you’d join him in doing so.
The image sent heat rushing to his core, the first flickers of lust stirring in his gut. With the right provocation, no doubt you’d fall into his grasp with a smile.
He couldn’t wait.
Long fingers slid under knitted fabric to scratch his scalp yet again. Perhaps a haircut would’ve been easier, he truly despised wearing hats. They made his head too warm and he’d yet to find one that didn’t make him itch as if ants crawled between the obsidian strands still tickling at his neck.
“Stop scratching, you’ll only make it worse,” Vergil commented. The artist shot a glare at the pale-haired man and scratched just a bit more. He’d satisfy any urge he pleased and none of his friends could stop him.
“You look good, Van Gogh. Very edgy,” Griffon added.
With an annoyed growl, V tore the beanie from his head and threw it at the damned demonic bird. The scrap of black fabric sailed through the air and landed harmlessly, six feet from Griffon’s perch on the television, sending both man and bird into hysterical laughter.
Well, Griffon’s laughter was hysterical. Vergil’s was more of a dry chuckle.
“You’re both insufferable,” he muttered. All their teasing made his fingers tingle with need, visions of red plastered on the walls of his mind. Time to go out and leave another message for you. Maybe you’d notice this one.
---Reader---
The next morning dawned cold and bright, the winter sun shining through the thin curtains covering your bedroom window. Even with the heater on, a chill teased at your toes and fingers as you huddled in the mound of blankets. What time was it, were you late or-
Oh.
And there it was, that heavy stone that resided in your chest. You groaned and tugged the quilt over your face, hiding from the world in a futile attempt to return to ignorance. Maybe you could just stay in bed all day, why bother getting up? Not like you had anywhere to be.
But your bladder had other ideas, and moments later the icy wooden floor dragged a hiss from your lips. If only you could use the toilet without surrendering the blankets…
You did your business quickly and headed to the kitchen. Hot coffee might help, and you’d need to check your email at some point. Malphas might have news.
And V might want to chat…
A sharp knock on the door pulled your focus away from the coffee machine before you could ponder the thought. You weren’t expecting company, who in the world would show up unannounced?
You added three healthy scoops of brown powder and closed the lid, pressing the button to start brewing. Only once the telltale sound of water heating reached your ears did you approach the door, peeking through the eye hole to get a preview.
You froze, the breath escaping you at the sight of blue uniforms.
Cops?! V, what did you do?
Possibilities raced through your mind. How much did they know? Would it be foolish to try denying any wrongdoing? Maybe you should run, go into hiding. At the very least, you might avoid prison.
No, don’t be stupid.
You pursed your lips and forced your trembling hands to unlock the door. No point trying to escape the inevitable. Whatever they wanted with you, you weren’t going to hide from it.
“Can I help you?”
Two blue-clad figures stood in the dim hallway. Kind faces, non-threatening posture. Was that a good sign or a bad sign? Fuck.
“Good morning. Are you Y/N Waras?” the larger figure asked.
A man, tall and broad shouldered. The uniform did nothing to hide his powerful physique, nor did it conceal his dominant posture. White hair brushed at the collar of his light blue shirt, perhaps a past trauma shocked him enough to change it? You’d heard of the phenomenon but never seen it.
“Yes, I am. What’s going on?”
“Ma’am, you’re gonna have to come with us,” the shorter figure replied with a southern drawl.
Still quite tall compared to most, the young woman had a spray of freckles dusting her nose and cheeks under a pair of stylish glasses. Bouncy brown curls gathered at the back of her head in a messy ponytail, and hints of tattoos teased at the edge of her sleeves.
The man shot her a look. “Don’t be rude, Nico. I’m Officer Tony Redgrave, this is Officer Nicoletta Goldstein. We can talk inside if you prefer, Doctor.”
So I’m not under arrest? What the hell is going on?
“Of course, come in. It’s a bit of a mess,” you commented, widening the gap so the two strange people could enter. “I’ll get some coffee for you.”
As the two officers settled in at your small dining table, you busied your clammy hands with preparing three fresh mugs of the bitter fluid, grabbing the sugar and cream as you brought the drinks out. Having a task always helped calm your nerves, and by the time the two muttered a thank you the worst of the anxiety had faded.
“So… what’s this about?” you asked as you joined them, your own mug in hand.
The two exchanged a look, the man shrugging and leaning back to take a sip of his coffee. A clear indication of seniority, for him to grant permission for her to speak.
“Well you know ‘bout the murders, right?”
You almost laughed. “Of course.”
“And you gotta know the leading suspect is the escapee,” she continued without pausing for an answer.
“V.”
“That’s the one. We thought you might be able to help out, bein’ his doctor and all.”
You sipped your coffee, pondering how to respond. It might seem strange if you refused, especially given your lack of excuses. It wasn’t like you didn’t have time. Damn Malphas, he probably sent them here in the first place. As if suspending you wasn’t enough…
“What sort of help are you looking for, exactly?”
At that, Officer Redgrave leaned forward. Up close, it was easy to see the authority in his expression, the knowledge that what he said would be heard. Arrogant and handsome. A dangerous combination.
“Anything you got, honestly. Insight, patterns, any habits or places he might’ve mentioned during treatment. Couple folks at the station want to bring you in as a full-blown consultant, but that takes a lot of paperwork.”
Another sip, bitter fluid masking the nerves dancing through your body. You couldn’t deny it sounded interesting. Who knew what you might learn about your favorite patient? Would they give you access to their files, to the crime scenes?
Shivers raced down your spine.
What if they find out I’ve been in contact with him? I’d be an accessory, at the very least.
But the easiest way to make sure they didn’t find out was to know what they were doing. You folded your hands on the table and forced your voice to be steady, swallowing your fears as you spoke.
“I’ll need to see a warrant, just to establish the legality of my cooperation. After that, I’m at your disposal.”
No more boredom, no more endless hours watching stupid TV you didn’t care about. Something to do, at last. Yet the risks couldn’t be ignored. You’d need to be careful.
“Got it right here, they mentioned you played by the book,” the man said, pulling a sheet of paper from his coat pocket and handing it to you for inspection.
Indeed, a warrant for any and all files or information regarding V.
All? So… I’d be breaking the law if I kept his sketch of me hidden.
Internally, you panicked at the realization. All your careful little lies crumbling to dust around you. By this time next month, maybe you’d already be in prison. At the very least, you’d probably lose your medical license by then. Ten years, wasted. Everything you worked so hard to achieve, sacrificed so much to gain, gone.
Not yet. There’s still a chance.
“Everything seems to be in order. How should I begin?” you replied carefully, schooling your face into neutrality.
The young woman tapped at her phone for a moment as the man waited, drumming his fingers on the table and sending an apologetic glance your way. You didn’t mind, the delay gave you more time to think, time to plot your next move.
You. Plotting. Ugh.
“Here it is, take a look. This photo was taken at the last crime scene,” the young brunette said, holding out the slim device for your perusal.
Red, red everywhere. An ocean of it, covering all manner of common household furniture. You zoomed in and gasped, spotting the first limb arranged on the table. A hand, feminine and dainty. Fingers curled to mirror the hand beside it, forming a twisted heart shape.
What was…
Oh.
Through the hands, a particularly gruesome image met your eyes. An armless couple, sitting on a couch drenched in their own blood. Judging by their agonized expressions, he’d severed the limbs while they were still alive. Probably where all the blood came from. A dark void lied in each chest, right where the heart sits. In their laps, the organ in question. If you remembered basic anatomy right, the man held the woman’s heart, and vice versa.
You cleared your throat, pursing your lips as you handed back the phone. “How long ago was that?”
“Call came in at six thirty seven this morning, right at sunrise.”
Holy… is that why he asked if I saw the sunrise?!
A typhoon of conflicting emotions swirled within you. Confusion, disgust, curiosity, revulsion… chaos.
What a strange duality, to both be horrified by what he created as well as understand his reasons for creating it, at least partially. The image held a macabre sort of appeal, like a sculpture in a garden. If the man didn’t use human bodies as his medium, no doubt he’d be critically acclaimed. What a waste.
“So, Doctor… any thoughts?” Officer Redgrave asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Well… it does seem like his work,” you began slowly. This was extremely dangerous ground, you had to tread carefully or you’d be ruined. “It’s tough to gain any new insight on such a small screen, but in our sessions V was always focused on the meaning of his work. He never created something without a deeper message. I think if you find that message, you might find him.”
That seemed safe. Something relatively obvious, no new information for them to misuse or misinterpret. But was it enough?
“So, you need to see it in person?” he asked.
God damn it.
“I may be able to offer more insight, yes,” you replied carefully, handing Officer Nicoletta her phone back.
The two officers shared a look, one you didn’t catch the meaning of. What an odd pair they made, hopefully you could use that to your advantage.
“I’ll get the paperwork started when we get back,” the woman said with a flash of resignation. Poor girl, doing all the grunt work…
“It’ll take a day or two, but we’ll be in touch. Heh, don’t leave town,” Tony said with a smirk.
The young woman rolled her eyes and stood, extending a hand to shake yours. “Don’t mind him, he’s just like that.”
“What? Saying stuff like that’s the best part of the job!” he exclaimed.
It was almost enough to make you laugh. Almost.
Not until the door closed on their retreating backs did you dare to breathe, allowing your true emotions to show at last. You wondered what it might be like, living without a mask. To not hide yourself away and portray the person others expected you to be. Would it be easier, or more difficult?
It didn’t matter. This was the life you had, there was no changing that. You simply needed to make the best of it, keep moving forward. What was the saying, when you’re going through Hell, keep going?
No, Hell was for children. This was just life.
_________
You guys NEED to check out this amazing comic by @monochromatic-echo, this is now my headcanon for how V figured out his new hairstyle! Thank you so much!
~~~~Next Chapter~~~~
#fanfic#Be My Nightmare#my writing#dmc5 v#v x reader#reader insert#devil may cry#tw: gore#dmcv#vitale
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I’ve watched (partially) leaked episodes of American Gods and there is no way I’m not gonna post about it.
Clear and explicit spoilers are under the cut, so read away at your own risk.
YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.
This is going to be mainly about the one and only, my love #1 Mad Sweeney.
Before I get down to business, I have to make some points clear.
1. In my opinion, AG is one of the BEST shows to grace our screens in many many long years, because:
It’s based on Neil Gaiman novel.
Storytelling is compelling.
Have you seen the editing? The lights and colors? The camera work?! This shit is AMAZING. There are few things I like more about the shows than good editing and visual aesthetics. And this right here? It’s pure pleasure.
The casting and acting is mind-blowing.
2. I know better than fixate on only one character, because the whole plot, the story in general is so much more than fate of one character (even if they’re the lead).
With that being stated in advance, I would like to clarify that AG is a complex story created through crossing paths of many different characters. It’s not about Mr. Wednesday, it’s not even about Shadow Moon and it’s sure as hell is not about Mad Sweeney.
But the latest was the reason why I was renewing AG and his tags this whole fucking week. So when THREE episodes (INCLUDED the one dedicated to Sweeney) were leaked in my country at three in the morning, I, tired from work and lack of sleep, naturally decided to give middle finger to my master’s thesis and watch them.
Unfortunately, I am no god and have basic human needs, so I’ve only watched parts regarding Sweeney, but I’m sure as hell watching whole episodes later.
And finally to the points:
Episode 2x05.
Sweeney thinking at first that Laura was an angel made me laugh so hard.
She was so fucking jealous of him, when he was flirting with this blonde girl! And then he looked right at Laura!!! He knew what he was doing and it was working!
He was so fucking jealous when this voodoo couple started to get sexy with Laura! Oh how he didn’t like it!
Let me tell you, this scene made me hot all over. He’s savage, huge and built like a brick wall. I’d climb this fine piece of fairy-godlike king any day any time.
At first I was disappointed because ‘THE HELL! So it was JUST the Horde and Sweeney’s deepest desires?! They’re gonna go and fuck different people’. I’d ideally prefer them to fuck each other, at the lack of better option this happening in an orgy, but to become swingers without actually having sex even once? C’mon guys! But my fears were in vain, eventually everything happened the way it should have happened.
Laura is so smol and Sweeney is HUGE. They’re outing my (enormous) size kink / height/built difference kink.
This scene was what I was anticipating since midseason 1 and I FINALLY GOT IT GODDAMIT!
First few seconds of ‘the morning after’ were just too damn hilarious.
Sweeney is not good at dealing with his shit, but Laura confirmed that she is way way worse. She didn’t know how to deal with him, this situation and her (or his for this matter) feelings anymore. So she fled and hurt my ginger giant bb in the process.
Episode 2x06.
There is no Laura or Sweeney in this one, so I skipped through it in like 5 min and understood next to nothing.
HOWEVER! This ep. featured my beautiful love #2 Tech Boy (a sight for sore eyes). In one of his recent interviews Bruce said that Tech Boy is a God of Technology, but technology can be many things. Like for our ancestors a sharp stone fixated on the end of the stick was already a technology. So maybe Tech Boy’s purpose is to renovate and update himself in accordance with the change of times. Maybe ithat’s what let him pass as the “New God”, when in reality he might be one of the oldest of the “Old Gods”. It’s an interesting theory and a glimpse of it is shown in ep. 6 through Tech Boy and Wednesday’s (!!!) common history, but in order to understand it I had to watch it, and now I have to prioritize and simply don’t have time for that. Though, my beautiful Tech Boy, I’m glad that you can show up at the most of unexpected of times and give me feels, when there’s not even one Sweeney within a mile.
Episode 2x07.
WHERE TO BEGIN!
In order to write this AND get some sleep I had to skip some parts of Sweeney’s story too, so please forgive me for any misunderstandings.
Of course I read all the theories based on what was in the book and how it correlated with the story in the show now. I was impatiently waiting and dreading this episode at the same time.
This ep. Sweeney was all about destruction and madness. More so than usual. He was unhinged and I loved him about it.
So much self-loathing. It was so brilliant I couldn’t watch it.
The fact that Sweeney couldn’t remember his own story was just plainly terrifying. When people loose faith in you and forget you it’s one thing. But when you loose faith in yourself so much that you can’t remember who you are anymore is depressing and legitimately scary.
He must have been freaking out of his fucking mind cause of constantly seeing Banshees. He might have told Shadow not to interfere, but he instantly knew that this time these women were crying for him.
I was happy to see that once, long long time ago he was loved. He knew what true happiness was. Even if we had to watch him fall so far (NOT HIS FAULT BY THE WAY).
I loved every single verbal drop about Sweeney caring for (possibility being nuts deep in love with) Laura:
How he couldn’t get it up for hot redheaded voodoo queen until she called him out on it.
How he was broken and laughing madly under this bridge about Laura leaving him AGAIN.
I hate Wednesday guts, but he saw right through Sweeney with this one eye of his. ‘She fucked you, broke your heart and left you’. Cruel, but hit too close to home.
Conversation with Salim. Sweeney: ‘It’s his fight, not yours. You don’t have to die. Just go and leave it all behind’. Salim: ‘No, I’m staying with him’. ‘Why?’ ‘I guess it’s what love is’. ‘Would he have done the same for you if the roles were reversed? What if someone ordered him to kill you? Would he have done that [while loving you]?’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Ugh, nothing. Forget it’. Like come on!!! This conversation takes place RIGHT AFTER Wednesday orders Sweeney to “finish his job” and kill Laura for good. Sweeney and Salim are talking about love and loved ones and what they would/wouldn’t have done for them! Sweeney’s implying Laura and love in one sentence! It’s the most explicit articulate closest to confession thing that we got from Sweeney aside from multiple defensive Fuck you’s said to different people and longing glances when she isn’t looking.
Little side note: Salim might be the sweetest person in the world but I wanted to punch him in the face so hard, when he said that it’s pointless to explain the concept of love to someone who’s never felt it. I know that Sweeney was never nice to him, but it’s rich coming from human to go and assume something about a creature that’s walked this Earth for centuries. You don’t know him well enough. So, please, kindly shut up.
(8) The bloodbath scene from times when Sweeney was a god once was just poetic cinema. I was SO looking forward to it when the trailer came out. Barbaric, savage, courageous, spear-throwing, ripping-out-throats-with-bare-teeth, crushing-skulls-with-bare-hands. Just the way I like them👌
(9) Sweeney with ass long red mane dressed in next to nothing but blue paint is the image that burnt into my mind and the reason I was living for.
(10) They fucking did it. They killed him. THEY BROKE ME.
Regarding Sweeney’s death I have QUITE A LOT OF THINGS TO SAY:
I knew it was coming but still hoped they wouldn’t go through with it. As much as it hurts, I respect this decision. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do and cut the cord. Sweeney’s death was in the book. It’s what was necessary for the story to move forward (see point 2 at the beginning of the post). It’s better this way than for his character to be dragged around the story just for fan service (as much as it pains me to admit it, BECAUSE I WANT THIS FAN SERVICE GODDAMIT!).
As far as I know in the book Shadow was indirectly involved in Sweeney’s death. It was honestly the redhead’s fault only. The way he went out was pathetic, so I’m glad that they changed it according with the development of tv character.
Shadow. You fucking gave your word. Not. To. Interfere. Fine, I get it, you’re Wednesday’s man, you have to protect him (even after Sweeney reveled the whole truth, seriously, Shadow?!), BUT DON’T GO POKE AT PEOPLE WITH A GIGANTIC POINTY STICK IF YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO ISE IT!!! I know it was an accident, he didn’t truly MEAN it, but maybe it even makes it worse.
This ‘I’m sorry’, I can’t even discuss it. Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Shadow!!!
I know that people say that Shadow’s speech at Sweeney’s wake is a beautiful part of the book, but with the way things turned out in the show, I don’t think that Shadow deserves to make this speech.
Sweeney, my bb went out like a fucking champ. Ruining old fart’s plans and taking the spear somewhere he can never reach it anymore. My hero ❤️ I hope Wednesday didn’t foresee it and it wasn’t another grand part of his plans. I want Sweeney to fuck him up good. He died because he didn’t want to be Wednesday’s bitch and I wouldn’t want him to be that especially in his death.
I wish Laura could see it with her own eyes. The last big FUCK YOU from Mad Sweeney.
In conclusion:
Mad Sweeney was barely on Old Gods’ side, I bet he would have gone minding his own business if it wasn’t for Wednesday’s debt.
With Sweeney gone now, fuck the Old Gods, I’m going to the New Gods’ side.
But at the same time Tech Boy is “deleted” or “fired” or whatever.
So basically now, I don’t really give a shit who wins now and who loses. They can kill each other until no one’s left, for all I care.
AG is still great and moving forward.
I’m still interested in the story, but I can’t bring myself to be invested anymore.
SIDE NOTES:
I know better than to hope, but I need a reaction out of Laura regarding Sweeney’s death.
It’ll probably never happen, but I hope Laura will crush Shadow’s nuts.
And spears Mr. Wednesday.
I wonder how Laura’s undead state will be affected now with Sweeney and his horde and his magic gone. Will his lucky coin work the same?
Laura is capable of surviving and protecting herself. She needs no one to do that for her. But Sweeney was ready to run to her, do anything for her as soon as she snapped her fingers. How much will it affect her? Will she appreciate him now?
I might have had some other notes, but I’ve tried for 2,5 hours to carefully and logically arrange this post without insulting any character TOO MUCH and now my brain’s exploding.
Please, feel free to talk to me about the FEELS, because I’m heartbroken and don’t know how to deal with it.
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Remedy
Some people you just can’t let go of. For you, that person is Min Yoongi. You’re holding onto him, even though you know you shouldn’t. He’s breaking you apart. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t walk away.
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: angst
wordcount: 4k
warning: elements of an emotionally toxic relationship
It always starts suddenly, and from something tiny and unimportant.
Something small, like when Mark from work sent you a work related text that ended with a casual ‘xo’. Or the time that you asked him to spend more time with you, only to be told you were being ‘too clingy’.
It was always something unimportant. Something small that quickly snowballed into a monstrosity. A passing sentence or action that morphed into an argument that lasted weeks. A tiny seed of something so small you never knew what would trigger a fight and what wouldn’t. That was how it always began with Yoongi.
Tonight, as expected, it started from something small. It had been an uneventful night, Yoongi had gotten in late from work and you had been watching him eat his dinner, unsure of how to approach him.
He was tired, irritable, and you had done your best to coax him out of his stormy mood. You were trying to do so by being a caricature of yourself, all flirty smiles and shoulder massages. Each time you touched him, he shrugged you off and stared moodily at the wall, blocking you out. He made it clear that he didn’t want you in his space, at all.
You were used to it by now from Yoongi. Your justifications for his moodiness were automatic. He was a tortured artist, a typical musician, as you told your friends.
Yoongi had recently gotten a huge knockback from a recording label. He had poured his heart and soul into an album, only to have it carelessly tossed aside by heartless executives and CEOs. They couldn’t care less about all the tears and emotions that had gone into the 11 songs he had written. Yoongi’s pride had taken a beating and it hadn’t helped that his childhood friend and sometime rival, Kim Namjoon, had just signed a record deal with that exact same company. Yoongi hadn’t mentioned it, but you could tell by the broodiness that had lingered within him during the last month, that it was weighing heavily on his mind. You tried to put yourself in Yoongi’s shoes- working 70 hour weeks, creatively stifled and recovering from the sting of blatant rejection, while his friend effortlessly got exactly what Yoongi had so badly craved for himself.
Yoongi was a complicated man to begin with, before all this had happened with his music career. He was layered, complex- he lived in his music and dwelled within a world of lyrics and harmonies half of the time. That was one of the things that had initially drawn you to Yoongi. He was passionate when you first met him, and confident. He told you he was going to succeed with such self-assurance that you never questioned it. So when he failed, it had been a shock to the system, to yours and his, like a bucket of cold ice drenching everything in its path.
Yoongi had funnelled so much money and effort into establishing his music career, and now, he was deep in debt. He was fatigued, worked to the bone to pay off all of his investments. Yoongi he let out all his frustrations, his hurt, his bitterness and exhaustion, onto your relationship. All he knew now was his work, and all he loved before you was his music. And that love of his had betrayed him.
You knew all this, and you chanted it to yourself in moments when you felt fragile, so paper thin and painfully lonely, that you almost couldn’t bear it. You told yourself in moments of weakness and doubt that Yoongi had gone through bad times. Yoongi was going through a tough time but it wasn’t permanent. It was going to get better, it had to. It was such a familiar mantra to you now that you found yourself muttering it constantly throughout the day. It was going to get better, it had to.
You squared your shoulders and smiled at Yoongi now, he didn’t smile back, looking at something on his phone.
“So how was your day?”
Yoongi shrugged.
“The same.”
He was in a mood tonight. You wanted to lighten him up. You walked over to him, the beginnings of a lighthearted smile forming on your lips. You could do it, you could ease him out of this mood, bring the lightness back into the man you loved. It was in there in him somewhere still, you were sure.
“I wanna take a nap or something.” Yoongi added, stretching out and yawning. You watched him fondly.
“You’re such a lazy bones,” You teased.
Yoongi just lifted his eyes, staring at you coldly.
“Excuse me?” He was annoyed, you could tell by the way his jaw clenched and you felt a ripple of regret run through your body. “What are you trying to say? I don’t see you working every God damn day of the week.”
“It was just a joke,” You said slowly. “Sorry, I didn’t-”
“God Y/N, you’re a fucking bitch sometimes, you know that?”
You stood there, frozen. You didn’t know how to respond or how to react when he was like this, angry, bitter, wanting to hurt you as badly as he was hurting inside. This had become a pattern for you and Yoongi, while at first you had fought back to his words, yelling back, crying, shouting until your voice was raw, you had quickly learned the fights passed quicker when you were impassive. Your non responses always aggravated him more at the start, but he quickly ran out of steam and would storm out, leaving you to pick up the pieces.
You were silent, your body quivering. And you felt it flash through your mind. Anger, a weary and diluted anger, directed at yourself, at Yoongi, at everything.
You had never felt like more of an imposter in your life. For someone who was so assured in the past that she was confident and strong, you were undoubtedly a sham. You were dislocated from all the parts of yourself that had rooted you to the earth and to what made you, well, you, and you didn’t know how to get back there to that place of stability. You didn’t know how to feel whole again. In fact, sometimes you were convinced that you were going to die exactly how you were born, alone and overwhelmed by the world around you, still not understanding what was going on, or how had gotten there, here.
You didn’t know how to articulate your thoughts to him. Your own mind was a jumbled mess of threads and incoherent thoughts. Yoongi just stared at you with wide, unforgiving eyes and you felt an invisible chokehold latch around your throat. You couldn’t communicate. All you knew, was that you felt it all, you felt too much, you loved too much, you hurt too much. Your heart was crammed to the brim with intensity and you were telling yourself surely it wasn’t just you, who was feeling the loneliness and the resentment and the self-loathing? Surely, it wasn’t just you who was feeling all of this sadness right down into the very core of your body? Maybe if you just talked to Yoongi, things would get better. The old him had to be in there somewhere, and you could draw him out again, you just had to figure out how…
“Are you just going to fucking stand there?” Yoongi hissed and you couldn’t help it, a shocked laugh came out of your lips. Nothing about this situation was remotely funny but you laughed. It was a foreign laugh that fell out of your mouth and hung in the air for a split second before Yoongi stepped towards you.
“Why the hell are you laughing? Do you think this is funny?” He asked in a low, angry voice. “You’re always so condescending to me,” He continued on, his voice rising as he began to fall into a tangent of his own. “You think you’re better than me, you talk down to me like I’m some God damn loser…” He was snarling out his words now and you felt your chest start to ache. Why was this happening? Why were you fighting, again?
“Fuck you Y/N,” he snapped out, his words coming out like venom.
You didn’t know how he could be like this, how he stared at you with flat eyes and no recognition, like he didn’t know who you were. How was this the same person who just a few months ago was laughing and holding his stomach while the two of you sat on the couch, the same person who tenderly brushed your hair away from your eyes and hummed songs to you?
You felt like you were in a war with yourself and with Yoongi and you were sick of losing, no matter how hard you fought. You felt your body give up, tired of resisting.
“I… I’m sorry-” You stammered out, hating the words, hating your weak apology and how easily you crumbled under his icy stare.
“Shut up,” Yoongi interrupted.
Something snapped in you like a twig under a foot. You stared at him and felt your mouth go dry.
“Yoongi…” Your voice trailed off. “This isn’t… this isn’t working. I think maybe we should… we should break up.”
You weren’t even sure if you meant the words that were coming out of your mouth. But you just wanted him to stop staring at you like that, you wanted him to empathise, to realize how badly he was hurting you. You wanted him to take you seriously, to stop assuming you would absorb all of his anger like a lifeless sponge.
Yoongi’s jaw dropped and then he reached over, picking up a photo frame that was sitting by the kitchen counter. A photo of the two of you, an old one, a low quality polaroid photo that his friend Jin had taken at a Christmas party two years ago. He threw it, and you screamed, as the photo frame whizzed past you and shattered against the wall.
Your entire body was coiled and tensed as you cowered, staring in shock at the floor. Splintered glass was everywhere and the only noise you were aware of was your pounding heart. Yoongi’s eyes widened and he strode towards you.
“Y/N,” he said your voice in a low tone, reaching out for you.
You flinched.
And his entire face crumpled.
“Fuck,” He whispered. He started to cry, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he stood in front of you, his arms hovering.
You realized with a sudden sharp clarity that you hadn’t taken a proper breath, you gasped in and you were acutely aware of everything. Of how hard and fast your heart was beating, of the splinters of glass littered all over the floor, and of Yoongi staring at you, his face broken.
You acted on instinct, something inside of you switched on, reached out and took over. You were grateful for it because your thoughts were just an indecipherable mess. You didn’t speak as you stood up and walked out of your apartment.
You called the first person that came to mind. You were shaking violently as the dial tone rang in your ear, your teeth chattering. It wasn’t even cold outside but you felt strange in your own skin, frantic and uncertain.
“Hello? Y/N?” Your best friend Laura picked up. You opened your mouth to say something, say anything, but words failed you. You just let out a cry, a strange, garbled sound.
“Oh my… fuck. Are you… what’s…” Laura stammered out in panic.
“I think I just broke up with Yoongi.”
Oh God. Realization ebbed through your body as you heard your own words through the line. This was real. This was really happening. There was no turning back now. You were on the phone to your best friend, telling her you had broken up with your boyfriend. This was it. You stared up at your apartment building, wondering what Yoongi was doing, the image of his face, raw and upset, darting through your thoughts.
A silence carried across the line before Laura’s voice came rushing through, businesslike.
“Okay. I… okay. Come over. Now. Get in a cab.”
If it was any other situation you would’ve told her that she was being a bossy bitch, but all you could do was nod, you nodded over and over, biting your lip to stop yourself from letting out another sob.
“Y/N, you’re not saying anything.”
“Okay, okay I… I’m on my way.” You said quickly, holding up a hand to call a taxi. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
You were sitting cross legged on Laura’s couch, a cup of hot tea in your hands.
You had barrelled into Laura’s apartment an hour ago and promptly started to sob. After holding you and letting you cry it out, Laura had busily sat you down and brought out tissues, tea, and then sat herself opposite you, her eyes latched on you. You had sat there, not drinking the tea, lost in your thoughts.
Neither of you had spoken, and you were grateful for that, for Laura understanding inherently that you needed silence. You were still absorbing everything, and the echo of the broken glass next to you was still fresh in your mind.
“I don’t want to be here.” You whispered in a faint voice. Laura’s eyes snapped up at you in worry and you hastened to fill in the blanks. “Not like that, I…” Your words cut off as you fumbled with your fingers. “I just don’t want to be anything right now. I’m so tired.” You laughed humourlessly, realizing the honesty behind your words. You were so exhausted you could feel it in every cell of your body.
“God, he’s so fucked up.” Laura said evenly, quietly. You felt a twinge in your bones as you shifted in your seat. “No, he…” Your voice trailed off. He’s a good guy, I love him, it was my fault, he’s my other half, he understands me, I understand him, love isn’t easy… the usual tirade of excuses filtered through your head and you sat there, blinking. You were being defensive over him, and you didn’t even know why.
“He’s not good for you Y/N.”
You let out a shaky breath. You knew she was right, but you couldn’t meet her gaze, just staring down at the floor. You focused your eyes on a small stain on Laura’s carpet, trying to distract yourself from thinking properly. You knew she was right, Yoongi wasn’t good for you. He was bringing darkness into corners of your life that had never been dark before. But you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him, from craving him. You loved him. Or maybe you didn’t, and maybe you were just a masochist, someone programmed to need someone that they could never fully have. Either way, you were fucked.
Your resolve crumbled and you felt your face crumple as a hot, choked cry rose in your throat.
Laura just curled her arm around you and held you comfortingly but you sat there, stiff, feeling the awful, hot feeling of tears rising in your chest.
“He’s not good to you, Y/N. He doesn’t appreciate you. How he treats you, how he talks to you, that isn’t right. I don’t like him Y/N, you know that. And I don’t like seeing you like this. I don’t even know how long I’ve seen you like this but I just… I can’t watch it happen any longer.” Laura’s voice trailed off. You knew she meant her words, she had never liked Yoongi from the start and it had ben a sore point in both your friendship with Laura and your relationship with Yoongi. Laura had quickly realized that telling you she didn’t like him, persuading you to break up with him just made you more distant, so she had stopped. You had assumed she just gave up and it wasn’t on her mind anymore. You had no idea she was still thinking about him and you.
“I’ve been okay,” You insisted, she just stared at you.
“No,” She said slowly. “You haven’t. You’ve been like a shell, Y/N.”
Her words hit you like a tonne of bricks. This entire time, you had thought that you were good, you were coping. Hiding everything from everyone. A new round of tears rolled down your face as Laura reached out and curled her hand around yours, giving your hand a long squeeze.
“I’m your best friend,” She said in a low, fierce voice. “And I… seeing you like this…” Her voice cracked as she stared at you evenly, her dark eyes filling up with tears. “It fucking breaks my heart Y/N.”
You felt a new wave of emotions wash over you. Guilt mixed with resistance at her words. And of course frustration, directed at yourself. You were hurting people you cared about.
Why were you doing this? This wasn’t you. You had never imagined this in the landscape of your life, falling in love with a broken man who would in turn break you. When you had been younger, you had always imagined that matters of love were filled with black and white, stereotypical ups and downs. You had never thought this would be you, the girl sitting on her best friend’s couch, only holding it together thanks to a cup of hot tea.
This wasn’t supposed to be you. This wasn’t you. You were angry at yourself for everything, for starting the fight in the first place, and then for thinking that the fight was remotely your fault. You were angry at yourself for letting a man treat you like this, and worst of all, for still wanting him. And you were angry at Yoongi, for everything, for every little splinter of pain and hurt he had inflicted, that was still wedged under your skin. Yet even through the anger you loved him. You told yourself fiercely that it wasn’t you talking, the side of yourself that even now was saying that Yoongi was going through hardships, that true love meant persisting through dark times. This couldn’t be you.
Laura was still staring up at you, her eyes teary and full of concern. You wondered how much she had stressed over this, over you, and you felt your heart twist in yet another painful way. This was real. This had really happened. There was no turning back now. It was almost laughable, that everything had happened tonight just because you had teased Yoongi about being lazy.
“God.” You whispered. “I just… how am I ever supposed to move on?”
Yoongi had been your life for the last four years. He was there, interlaced so finely in the details of your life. Everywhere you went contained memories of him. It felt like every second thought in your head had his presence involved somehow. How were you going to be able to do this?
“You can do it,” Laura said firmly. “You’re so strong Y/N, and it’s so hard at the start, but you can get through it…” No I can’t. You zoned out and stared at her as she talked on. You couldn’t. Tears were coming down your face faster than before and you were slowly starting to breathe in sharper and faster breaths of air.
“Y/N…” Laura leaned over and placed a palm on your wrist tentatively. “It’s okay, you can cry if you need to.”
You hated that sentence, you hated that you were here, crying. You shook your head furiously, coughing and glancing up.
“I’m okay. Laura I… I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep.”
Laura just stared at you intently. “Okay,” She said slowly. “Sleep here. On my bed. I can sleep on the couch. I’m not taking anything else but ‘Okay’ as an answer, by the way.”
You felt your chest swell with another fresh batch of emotions as you nodded, managing a small smile at her. You stood up and padded to her room, Laura followed you closely, hesitating at the door frame before she spoke.
“Don’t say anything, go to sleep, rest… just… just please, Y/N. I mean it. Don’t go back to him. Stay away. Please.” Her eyes softened and you realized she was pleading with you.
“I won’t,” You said quietly. “I just…” Your words died off and you couldn’t look at her. You just shook your head, once, twice, until it was just bobbing up and down as if it was broken.
“You’re so strong. You can do this.” She said softly and you felt like an imposter. You weren’t strong at all.
You walked over to your best friend’s bed and slid inside. It felt cold and unfamiliar but you still settled down, as Laura switched off the light. You lay there, wide awake, your thoughts racing painfully as you listened to the sounds outside your room, of your friend getting ready to sleep as well.
You didn’t know how long you lay there, but time stretched out and you couldn’t go to sleep. If anything, you felt more awake than ever.
Surely, this wasn’t the end of you and Yoongi. Not like this, without proper closure, proper communication. You and Yoongi, what you shared, was a love, a great love, and it couldn’t be over with a smashed glass and no real words.
You could go to Yoongi now.
Not to do anything, but… to talk. To tell him to his face that it was over between the two of you.
You sat up in bed. You were vaguely aware of what you were doing, frantically negotiating with yourself, but you pushed down those logical thoughts and slowly swung your legs over the bed.
You crept out into the living room, your eyes falling on Laura. She was draped over the couch, snoring softly. You hesitated. You could go back to sleep, talk to him tomorrow, or not at all.
You stood there like a frozen puppet. Torn between going to him, or staying here. Your heart was racing so fast you could hear it in your chest.
And you made your decision.
You stepped into his bedroom and saw him lying there.
Your heart gave out. It felt like it had been tipped onto the floor, it was a slippery mess.
Whatever shreds of resolve you had floated away the minute you saw him lying there. You walked towards him.
Each step was like a stamp, and you could hear your own voice in your head, Laura’s voice, saying stop, don’t, don’t, don’t.
But you couldn’t stop yourself.
You unwrapped the covers and slid in beside him.
He lay still and you nestled into him. You didn’t touch him, you just lay there.
Yoongi shifted, he didn’t speak, he just tugged you into his arms carefully.
And you lay there, ignoring the stirrings of guilt, as once again you were drawn back into his embrace.
806 notes
·
View notes
Text
Naruto Shippuden E120-124 Notes
Still loving the OP music.
Currently watching the adventures of Edward Elric and Upchuck.
Kakashi is literally incapable of committing any action without trash talking someone, even if it's himself.
What is this bullshit about Kakashi having superhuman sense of smell?
If they were gonna have the Sharingan manifest at that time, they really should have put more effort into showing Obito's emotional distress. Or they should have had it manifest when Rin was taken, so that Obito wouldn't seem so self-centered and so the Sharingan wouldn't be so OP since Rin would still get taken away. Hell, Rin being taken away even after he got the Sharingan would add even more depth to Obito's inferiority complex and self-loathing.
I hope we actually get to see Rin be an actual character instead of just having her get fridged for Obito and Kakashi's development.
I thought that the Sharingan was supposed to manifest with one tomoe in each eye but apparently not.
Man, that stone ninja went out like a fucking chump.
Did Obito's hair change color in between episodes?
So why doesn't Kakashi fight with that blade anymore?
Um, how the fuck is Obito still alive?
No, seriously, how!?
The boulder crushed half of his skeleton, one of his lungs, his heart, and half of his brain! There's no way to survive that!
It's fucking ridiculous. Right when I'm finally enjoying an arc again, I have to deal with something this goddamn stupid again.
Why not just have it crush enough of his body that he could still be alive but not feasibly be able to escape? Why make it look that goddamn stupid?
Ugh, you just had to add that romantic shit in there, didn't you Kishi?
I find it odd that even after this experience, Kakashi would still be willing to say that those who break the rules are scum.
You know, I actually really enjoyed this arc. It gave some background to Kakashi, and it made me a care about a new character in a very short span of time. Despite this, I think I might do a rewrite of it. Mainly because it's the only arc that feels worth giving that much attention to it.
AYYY! My man, Kisame, is back!
So that's Roshi? Man, Kishi is determined to make all the jinchurikis into bitches, isn't he?
God, Itachi’s voice is incredible.
Ah, it's so nice to see Itachi and Kisame together again. Finally, the only Akatsuki pair who aren't shit.
Glad to see that Kisame fucking hated Hidan and Kakuzu too.
Still hate that Sasuke killed Orochimaru.
So why did Deidara want to kill Orochimaru?
The name "Bipolar Jugo" still feels weird.
How can Suigetsu be called the reincarnation of Zabuza if he was alive while Zabuza was alive?
Tobi is still annoying.
How the fuck can you call Hidan and Deidara too dangerous, Kakashi?
As annoying as Tobi is, he’s nowhere near as annoying as Karin.
Karin, can you just go away so I can enjoy the delightfulness of Suigetsu?
So now the Akatsuki have the One-Tail, the Two-Tails, the Three-Tails, and the Four-Tails? Sounds like the whole world is fucked.
I don’t really remember what Pain was planning on doing with the tailed beasts. His speech got really boring and annoying and long. I know it has something to do with world domination. Are they planning on sealing the beasts inside themselves?
I hate how all the jinchurikis have been turned into fodder. They all could have been interesting characters but nope. We’re not even gonna be allowed to see the fights they died in, despite how awesome they probably were.
Kitty-cats!!!
So Sasuke is consulting with a furry? Oh how far you have fallen.
Man, I bet we’re never gonna see these cat people again.
God I hate the way Kishi draws hair.
Jiraiya, can you please explain to me why you taught this fool literally nothing over three years?
Man, Deidara has gotten pretty annoying.
YES! TEAM 8 IS BACK!
Why’s everyone dressed up in robes?
Why does Naruto’s face looked randomly fucked up and awkward at times?
I can’t stand these dogs. They’re complete dicks.
Shino ain’t taking any of your shit, doggo.
Damn Sai is relatable. Everyone else is worried about the mission and efficiency and I just wanna befriend the puppy.
Aaaand Karin continues to be annoying.
The dog going with Sakura is a fucking douchebag.
Hinata’s voice actress is kinda annoying. Like it’s alright on a little girl, but its been three years and her voice hasn’t changed. Reminds me of Orihime’s voice, which I also didn’t like.
So Naruto is willing to imprison Kabuto but not Sasuke? What a fucking hypocrite.
Holy baby jesus that taijutsu is terrible. It looks like something out of Scooby-Doo.
Is Deidara wearing mascara?
This music is very Cowboy Bebop-esque.
How the hell did Sasuke have that many senbon in one hand? And what was the point of putting the Chidori’s power into them? They would have hit anyway.
So Sasuke created a long-range Chidori?
Why didn’t Sasuke just fly away from that shot? Or just fly upwards and hit him with the Chidori Spear?
Damn, I was hoping Deidara would have a cyborg arm.
Itachi, Kisame, and Sasori’s reaction to Deidara’s “art” was hilarious.
Man, they are really trying to make Itachi seem OP, aren’t they?
I’m guessing that Itachi used a genjutsu to make Deidara suddenly want to fight? Man, I actually feel bad for Deidara. Actually I don’t feel bad for him at all, motherfucker was a terrorist for hire.
I find it odd that he couldn’t identify the Sharingan though.
I hate that the Sharingan even has genjutsu abilities. Tbh, Part 2 made me hate the Sharingan in general.
Add Deidara to the list of characters who have fallen victim to Kishi’s Uchihaboner.
Of course Deidara would be a metalhead.
So Deidara’s been trying to kill Itachi too? God, the Akatsuki became exactly what I hoped it wouldn’t be.
Soooooo Deidara just made a bigger Deidara? Man, talk about a narcissist.
It doesn’t even feel necessary to take out a jutsu that strong yet. What is it about Akatsuki fights that makes someone overreact to a ridiculous degree?
wait what
what
...
wat did u just do to sasuke
deidara, what did u do
oh so thats what he did
thanks tobi
Of course it was all a genjutsu. Ffs, i hate this shit
tbh the word genjutsu has lost all meaning
Fuck the Sharingan.
Yaaassss, deidara. drag hiim!
I feel like the Chidori would have ignited the explosion but i cant be sure
How is Sasuke flying when one of his wings is just a bunch of snakes? And why is Deidara just fucking floating down? It’s like Bleach all over again!
How the hell did Deidara survive that fall?
Oh yay, another shitty fucking Sharingan genjutsu.
Everytime that Kishi realizes his opponent could easily kill an Uchiha, he just pulls out that Sharingan BS.
Why did Sasuke punch him? He could have finished him with the Chidori right then and there.
This chakra nature stuff is such bullshit.
Formulated your hypothesis? Anyone who says Sasuke isn’t a huge nerd is just lying to themselves.
How could Sasuke even keep the Chidori’s power in his sword once he’s thrown it that far?
Also, if the Sharingan sees chakra as different colors, wouldn’t that just obstruct his vision and make it harder to watch his opponent?
Instead of worrying about how calm he is, how about you kill him, Deidara?
Why is Deidara see-through?
And why doesn’t that effect extend to his hair and eyes?
#Naruto#Naruto Shippuden#Barrimyr watches Naruto#Kakashi Hatake#Obito Uchiha#Kisame Hoshigaki#Itachi Uchiha#Sasuke Uchiha#Deidara#notes
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
minggki
BRUH
vampire-the-askerade
Ask Whatever
learninworld
Untitled
rewindpowers
Untitled
grayeet
yeet or be yeeten