Monster
Title: Monster
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: none
Word Count: 757
Genre: Angst (?)
Summary: A monster to entertain a monster.
Warning: Seungri's a pyscho, dark themes of murder.
AN: Lol finally did this drabble based on the music video months after it was released. But here it is, anyways.
Seungri knows they’re all going to die someday. Can imagine the dull taste of death at the back of his throat, clawing at his senses and stopping his breath. But he’s not afraid. And that’s what scares people the most. That he smiles, when a bullet rips through his skin, tearing open the pathetically frail flesh as it stains the ivory of his body a crimson red. That he smirks when he rips their hearts out, the blood warm and sticky in his grasp. Because he marvels at how beautiful his hands look, drenched in blood and glistening a sickening red in the pale light overhead.
And well, if they’re all going to die anyways, it doesn’t really matter when, now does it? He laughs; the sound high and catching, sick and twisted so that maybe he’s even surprised at the way it sounds, ripping out of his throat like that. Maybe that’s the way he was always supposed to sound. Like a monster. Because that’s what he is; a monster. The thing that lurks in the dark and preys on the innocent. What roams in the corner of your vision, at the edges of the darkness, only to pull you in. He’d tried to prove them wrong once, long ago. Back when he remembered his name, back when he had a family and friends and the world didn’t pass by in snatches of pain and anger.
But now that person, well, he had been dead a long time. The frail and pathetic idiot who had tried to be something else, something perhaps good, had been decimated, gone, all of him. And now Seungri remained, left alone to defend himself from the rest of the world and take it to Hell in a hand-basket, all at the same time. But maybe that wouldn’t be so hard, here in this labyrinth where only the most dangerous of them remained. Maybe it could even be less boring, if he had the right form of entertainment to keep him from slitting the throats of the rest of the things here. But, then again, he might kill them all just the same. A distraction sounded good though, all the same.
And it was so easy to find, when he really looked for it. Oh yes, all too easy to find, and what a joy to find it. He found it in the form of the beast Daesung, innocence and sin intertwined into the same soul. The blood of many stained his hands, his ledger dripping with red ink, but inside, perhaps inside there was still some ‘good’, as they called it. Or perhaps, it was just guilt. Because it was oh so easy to get under his skin, this monster that sought to be saved and yet was such a sinner Seungri doubted any god would forgive him. He was a beast, a trapped animal, the whites of his eyes disappearing in fear when Seungri spoke, when he whispered into his ear about all the people he’d killed. Of all he people he’d made suffer.
And it had been too easy to awaken the beast inside, to snuff out whatever wisp of decency was left inside his broken head and anger him, to let the pain take him over. He could even see it happen, the blanking of his eyes and the hypnotic tattoos covering his body as Seungri smirked against the wall. And the thrill of danger, of jerking away from arms that would crush his body into mangled pieces and then stepping right back into his grasp, it satisfied him. It boiled his blood and sent his nerves tingling, sped up his limbs and for once the air he breathed in didn’t taste as stale. And if Daesung happened to catch his temple, send him flying back against one of the walls, well, it only made him bark out a laugh...
He wasn’t afraid of dying. Fear was for the weak, for the worthless and the pathetic. Seungri wasn’t any of these things, and so he welcomed the pain searing at his temple, and the chilling wall underneath his back. He even thought the flashing of Daesung’s crazed eyes seemed brighter somehow, more piercing. Perhaps Seungri would die here at the hands of this beast, and perhaps he wouldn’t, but he knew that if he did his blood would stain Daesung’s hands, perhaps even torment him on nights when his demons submerged long enough for him to catch a glimpse of sanity. And the thought, it made Seungri laugh.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: none
Word Count: 757
Genre: Angst (?)
Summary: A monster to entertain a monster.
Warning: Seungri's a pyscho, dark themes of murder.
AN: Lol finally did this drabble based on the music video months after it was released. But here it is, anyways.
Seungri knows they’re all going to die someday. Can imagine the dull taste of death at the back of his throat, clawing at his senses and stopping his breath. But he’s not afraid. And that’s what scares people the most. That he smiles, when a bullet rips through his skin, tearing open the pathetically frail flesh as it stains the ivory of his body a crimson red. That he smirks when he rips their hearts out, the blood warm and sticky in his grasp. Because he marvels at how beautiful his hands look, drenched in blood and glistening a sickening red in the pale light overhead.
And well, if they’re all going to die anyways, it doesn’t really matter when, now does it? He laughs; the sound high and catching, sick and twisted so that maybe he’s even surprised at the way it sounds, ripping out of his throat like that. Maybe that’s the way he was always supposed to sound. Like a monster. Because that’s what he is; a monster. The thing that lurks in the dark and preys on the innocent. What roams in the corner of your vision, at the edges of the darkness, only to pull you in. He’d tried to prove them wrong once, long ago. Back when he remembered his name, back when he had a family and friends and the world didn’t pass by in snatches of pain and anger.
But now that person, well, he had been dead a long time. The frail and pathetic idiot who had tried to be something else, something perhaps good, had been decimated, gone, all of him. And now Seungri remained, left alone to defend himself from the rest of the world and take it to Hell in a hand-basket, all at the same time. But maybe that wouldn’t be so hard, here in this labyrinth where only the most dangerous of them remained. Maybe it could even be less boring, if he had the right form of entertainment to keep him from slitting the throats of the rest of the things here. But, then again, he might kill them all just the same. A distraction sounded good though, all the same.
And it was so easy to find, when he really looked for it. Oh yes, all too easy to find, and what a joy to find it. He found it in the form of the beast Daesung, innocence and sin intertwined into the same soul. The blood of many stained his hands, his ledger dripping with red ink, but inside, perhaps inside there was still some ‘good’, as they called it. Or perhaps, it was just guilt. Because it was oh so easy to get under his skin, this monster that sought to be saved and yet was such a sinner Seungri doubted any god would forgive him. He was a beast, a trapped animal, the whites of his eyes disappearing in fear when Seungri spoke, when he whispered into his ear about all the people he’d killed. Of all he people he’d made suffer.
And it had been too easy to awaken the beast inside, to snuff out whatever wisp of decency was left inside his broken head and anger him, to let the pain take him over. He could even see it happen, the blanking of his eyes and the hypnotic tattoos covering his body as Seungri smirked against the wall. And the thrill of danger, of jerking away from arms that would crush his body into mangled pieces and then stepping right back into his grasp, it satisfied him. It boiled his blood and sent his nerves tingling, sped up his limbs and for once the air he breathed in didn’t taste as stale. And if Daesung happened to catch his temple, send him flying back against one of the walls, well, it only made him bark out a laugh...
He wasn’t afraid of dying. Fear was for the weak, for the worthless and the pathetic. Seungri wasn’t any of these things, and so he welcomed the pain searing at his temple, and the chilling wall underneath his back. He even thought the flashing of Daesung’s crazed eyes seemed brighter somehow, more piercing. Perhaps Seungri would die here at the hands of this beast, and perhaps he wouldn’t, but he knew that if he did his blood would stain Daesung’s hands, perhaps even torment him on nights when his demons submerged long enough for him to catch a glimpse of sanity. And the thought, it made Seungri laugh.