peel me, flesh after skin and mind before soul
vague!jongdae/kyungsoo & vague!minseok/sehun; g; angst (one is abstract); mild warnings; total ~700
i'm feeling quite lonely and sad right now but i don't even know why. i had a bit of a block before writing the second drabble. i still feel quite sad.
torment and revulsion
vague!jongdae/kyungsoo; g; angst; implied insanity; ~470
continuation of the first draft of this thing from the drabble for luiza. why do i even write.
the claws sink on kyungsoo’s skin and his mouth opens to scream, but there is no sound - he screams silently, the monster’s other claw colliding against rusted metal, and kyungsoo shrieks, his eardrums threatening to bleed, to cry out against the sound, but then a tug jolts him awake and his eyes snap.
“another bad dream,” jongdae sighs, eyes blotchy and the signs of nail digging on skin imprinted on his shoulders. kyungsoo dares to see his own fingernails and he almost collapses in horror.
“i assaulted you,” he hollowly states, but jongdae waves his hand.
kyungsoo closes his eyes but it’s no use, because there are images of rotting flesh and half-bitten and burned human legs invading his mind. there’s a slight rustle of paper and fabric before jongdae speaks up again. “i’m going out to the clinic,” and there’s a shove of paper and charcoals to kyungsoo, footsteps fading away.
the door clicks shut and kyungsoo scrambles off the bed - turning all the lights on - before he plops on the worn chair. he evenly smoothes out the paper, calmness starting to spread over his arteries and veins, before a pair of horrendously menacing crimson eyes stares at him.
kyungsoo’s hands are working on autopilot, refined fingers curling themselves on crayons and paintbrushes and charcoals and color pencils - and the images slowly fade away, they gradually imprint themselves on the paper - but not for long, never for too long.
the dull ache in his stomach is settling, and he sees the image of the nail marks on jongdae’s unblemished skin - dream-state kyungsoo probably clutched at it, thinking it was the monster - he sees the first time he had let himself unguarded and ended up crying hoarsely at luhan’s sleepover party - kyungsoo sees everything humiliating in his life caused by his morbid thoughts, and he sits still, arms covered with the colors of bruises and knife marks.
he sees the image of him killing his older brother, and kyungsoo wheezes in pain, gripping all-too-tightly at the navy blue crayon, and it snaps into two.
when jongdae arrives, he looks at kyungsoo’s sobbing and pleading figure, colors splattered on his cheeks and arms - mixed with tears and snot and paint - and takes a peek at the artwork he created.
it’s an image of kyungsoo corroded in half - smiling, (“i don’t want to dream,” kyungsoo whimpers in the background, “jongdae - jongdae, help me - “) but the fakeness is too real, the smile is too forced and too weary, too distorted and too disturbing - bruises and blood (“please, someone tell me why is this happening to me,” jongdae hears him cry out, nails raking on the battered wooden desk) covering the remaining part, the leftover eye spilling out of his eye socket and lips sewn shut in a disgusting attempt to smile forever - and jongdae groans.
i must scream but i have no voice
vague!minseok/sehun; g; abstract angst; ~270
words won’t come out of minseok’s throat.
guys, he’s attempting to say, i can’t - i can’t talk. i can’t hear you guys. why is this happening? why are you all ignoring me? he tries to purposefully bump against chanyeol, but the boy changes his mind, almost immediately - as if he’s taunting him, boiling the bubbling hot blood with exasperation and frustration, and minseok almost snaps.
guys, he’s trying to say again, but his mouth moves soundlessly, and he grips his fingers harder. yifan and kyungsoo are bickering, junmyeon is fretting over yesterday’s slacked teamwork and jongin is sleeping, but his vision is blurring - there’s only white noise in his ears and he can’t scream.
sehun is looking directly at him, but there is no minseok in his eyes - there’s no hint of recognition, only pursed lips and his calculating stare, as if he’s dissecting minseok to pieces and he’s trying to examine each part, not caring to put it together again.
please, minseok almost sobs, but he can’t look away from sehun - the rest are blurring to faded pictures and his memories start to evaporate to the thin air. he slumps in defeat and lets his mind be consumed in flames, rotting into pieces, lets them be the smoke dissipating in the oxygen surrounding him.
but minseok is not sure if the air around him is oxygen.
tell me something, he’s still soundlessly shrieking and pleading, stop playing sick games with me.
but minseok isn’t even sure if that person is sehun.
i'm feeling quite lonely and sad right now but i don't even know why. i had a bit of a block before writing the second drabble. i still feel quite sad.
torment and revulsion
vague!jongdae/kyungsoo; g; angst; implied insanity; ~470
continuation of the first draft of this thing from the drabble for luiza. why do i even write.
the claws sink on kyungsoo’s skin and his mouth opens to scream, but there is no sound - he screams silently, the monster’s other claw colliding against rusted metal, and kyungsoo shrieks, his eardrums threatening to bleed, to cry out against the sound, but then a tug jolts him awake and his eyes snap.
“another bad dream,” jongdae sighs, eyes blotchy and the signs of nail digging on skin imprinted on his shoulders. kyungsoo dares to see his own fingernails and he almost collapses in horror.
“i assaulted you,” he hollowly states, but jongdae waves his hand.
kyungsoo closes his eyes but it’s no use, because there are images of rotting flesh and half-bitten and burned human legs invading his mind. there’s a slight rustle of paper and fabric before jongdae speaks up again. “i’m going out to the clinic,” and there’s a shove of paper and charcoals to kyungsoo, footsteps fading away.
the door clicks shut and kyungsoo scrambles off the bed - turning all the lights on - before he plops on the worn chair. he evenly smoothes out the paper, calmness starting to spread over his arteries and veins, before a pair of horrendously menacing crimson eyes stares at him.
kyungsoo’s hands are working on autopilot, refined fingers curling themselves on crayons and paintbrushes and charcoals and color pencils - and the images slowly fade away, they gradually imprint themselves on the paper - but not for long, never for too long.
the dull ache in his stomach is settling, and he sees the image of the nail marks on jongdae’s unblemished skin - dream-state kyungsoo probably clutched at it, thinking it was the monster - he sees the first time he had let himself unguarded and ended up crying hoarsely at luhan’s sleepover party - kyungsoo sees everything humiliating in his life caused by his morbid thoughts, and he sits still, arms covered with the colors of bruises and knife marks.
he sees the image of him killing his older brother, and kyungsoo wheezes in pain, gripping all-too-tightly at the navy blue crayon, and it snaps into two.
when jongdae arrives, he looks at kyungsoo’s sobbing and pleading figure, colors splattered on his cheeks and arms - mixed with tears and snot and paint - and takes a peek at the artwork he created.
it’s an image of kyungsoo corroded in half - smiling, (“i don’t want to dream,” kyungsoo whimpers in the background, “jongdae - jongdae, help me - “) but the fakeness is too real, the smile is too forced and too weary, too distorted and too disturbing - bruises and blood (“please, someone tell me why is this happening to me,” jongdae hears him cry out, nails raking on the battered wooden desk) covering the remaining part, the leftover eye spilling out of his eye socket and lips sewn shut in a disgusting attempt to smile forever - and jongdae groans.
i must scream but i have no voice
vague!minseok/sehun; g; abstract angst; ~270
words won’t come out of minseok’s throat.
guys, he’s attempting to say, i can’t - i can’t talk. i can’t hear you guys. why is this happening? why are you all ignoring me? he tries to purposefully bump against chanyeol, but the boy changes his mind, almost immediately - as if he’s taunting him, boiling the bubbling hot blood with exasperation and frustration, and minseok almost snaps.
guys, he’s trying to say again, but his mouth moves soundlessly, and he grips his fingers harder. yifan and kyungsoo are bickering, junmyeon is fretting over yesterday’s slacked teamwork and jongin is sleeping, but his vision is blurring - there’s only white noise in his ears and he can’t scream.
sehun is looking directly at him, but there is no minseok in his eyes - there’s no hint of recognition, only pursed lips and his calculating stare, as if he’s dissecting minseok to pieces and he’s trying to examine each part, not caring to put it together again.
please, minseok almost sobs, but he can’t look away from sehun - the rest are blurring to faded pictures and his memories start to evaporate to the thin air. he slumps in defeat and lets his mind be consumed in flames, rotting into pieces, lets them be the smoke dissipating in the oxygen surrounding him.
but minseok is not sure if the air around him is oxygen.
tell me something, he’s still soundlessly shrieking and pleading, stop playing sick games with me.
but minseok isn’t even sure if that person is sehun.