Ok...This is just a one shot between Seto and Jounichi, and it has plenty
of angst in it. It's in Jou's POV, just ta let you know. And it starts off
with a poem. See the suck factor starts already!
WARNING: Contains shounen-ai, attempts at suicide, and swearing.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-gi-oh, or any of its characters.
'Thoughts'
Illusionary Visions
Chapter 1
Slow Suicide
I sit here and twist my flesh apart,
wondering when the blood might start.
It's not something I might have thought of;
Then again, I thought you were from above.
Maybe an angel, that kind that heaven sends?
So I approached you, surrounded by friends.
The next thing I knew, you had turned away.
You made me hate you, and I felt dismay.
Remember that night, though, when you came?
You just stared at me, then called me by name.
That was the last straw, we did something dubbed 'bad'
And now, too these twisting emotions, I add.
Turned to love, turned to hate, not something to want.
From the sweet tender words to the unloving taunts.
I hate the words that you say, the way you fuck me.
I should have known this, have the insight to see.
It's starting to bleed, and I almost laugh.
The heart is dying, and it's my half.
The music's playing soundlessly as I start to cry.
I'm now happy that I get to die.
Not you.
By: Aliana Demkiiw
Honey brown eyes focused, albeit unclearly, on the sparkling blade in the owner's hand as he dropped the bottle, the yellowish liquid spilling out of its confinement. A lazy smile passed over his face as he watched it, the blade moving on his leg as he adjusted to his position.
Slumped against the wall, a bottle near him, you could have guessed he had been drinking. With the knife, you might have thought he was just going to stab at something, like the floor. The blonde wasn't going to stab anything though; unless anything counted his flesh.
A pale hand lifted itself in a drunken hazard, a pink tongue darting out to wet his lips as he dragged the sharp utensil up his arm. A red mark appeared where it had trailed, blood bubbling barely to the surface, and the boy snorted. No blood, no marks. No anything.
He briefly thought about why he was doing this, the question barely passing through the haze in his mind. Why? Why was he having this sudden fascination with knives that only a white-haired psycho could match? This time the boy laughed, a quiet echo bouncing off the empty wall.
'Because of that damned guy... Seto...'
'What happened? Why am I doing this because of HIM? The stupid asshole... Moneybags... Fucker... Master... He isn't my master anymore... He left me... Well, isn't he at work? And we didn't break up...verbal wise, anyway...But now he doesn't even say he loves me anymore. He says he hates me... Well, I hate him too.'
He winced he absentmindedly stabbed at his arm, this time a bit of blood, which was hardly there, just small bubbles, began to appear. He watched it crawl out of its supposed eternal confinement, the skin slowly turning a messy crimson as it was touched. A gag welled up in his throat as he saw how much blood that little cut could produce. But he was interested now; he hadn't felt too much pain, and he wanted to see how much blood would come with one severe cut.
A stab at his fore arm, one deep, twisting jab. A wince again as he felt the blended ice and fire it produced, and a smile when he saw how much faster it was coming out then the last cut. Two cuts. One more wouldn't hurt, right? It never hurt anyone, two cuts three cuts,
More jabs at his right arm until the cuts were criss-crossed and the haze in his mind increased. He could hardly feel the knife in his hand anymore, but he wanted more- More pain, more blood, more lost memory of the damned, sexy, cold CEO. His eyes could barely make out the pale fuzz that was supposed to be his arm now, but he saw that he was running out of space to cut. So he moved into his other arm.
He continued the stabbing, the haze slowly disappearing as darkness set in. He defiantly couldn't feel the knife in his hand, or his arms for that matter. Or his neck... Or his chest... Or his legs. Well he could feel them, he guessed. But it was kind of like only fire and ice, pain beyond not feeling. He giggled weakly. He couldn't feel anything but pain, what a shame! It felt nice though...
A minute or so later, his head met the floor with an audible thunk, and he closed his eyes. How many minutes had it been? An hour? Would it take an hour for a person to bleed to death? He heard it could take minutes, depending how severe the injuries were. His were... not severe. Or maybe they were. He wasn't no doctor! He forgot where he heard that, though. Well, he knew one thing. He was dead. Not yet, but soon.
Random faces ran through his mind as he tried to catch them, the futile attempts producing nothing. If he brushed his fingers against them, they disappeared without a trace of ever being there. He knew which face was Yugi's, of course; who could miss his hair? And Ryou's hair was pure white, so it wasn't hard to figure out who that was either. Or maybe it was Bakura... One face passed behind him as he stared at another, one with brown hair and green eyes. Honda or Anzu? He couldn't tell. But when the face that passed behind him came to rest in front of him he almost screamed in anger and hatred, sighed with happiness and love.
Seto...
He felt his anger and love rise up and twist as he stared back into cold cobalt eyes, and he suddenly remembered why he was dying. Because that bastard broke his heart and that was the last straw for everything! He was nothing now because he had lost everything! His friends, his family, his education, his home, even his freedom!
He ran towards the face, tears starting to blur his vision without haste. "You're the one I'm dying for, you bastard! You took EVERYTHING away from me!!! You told me you hated me, and is there something wrong for loving the person you wanted!?"
He didn't realize he had yelled until the noise came back to him, his ears become deaf at his own words.
A swing at the face cleared his hearing as he felt only air fly past his fist, and suddenly, everything disappeared. He stumbled and fell as he lost his balance, and the ground disappeared too. He was falling headfirst into his own personal hell, the one he had created. The last thing that crossed his mind and his lips were something he would have hated himself for, he did hate himself for.
"Se...to..."
Jesus Christ, I'm mean to Jou in this one. I'm only going to do a second chapter (Seto's POV), if I decide too. Or if I get one review XD. So yeah. And, Gomen, this is more of a getting-rid-of-a-writers-block ficcie, because I suck .
WARNING: Contains shounen-ai, attempts at suicide, and swearing.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-gi-oh, or any of its characters.
'Thoughts'
Illusionary Visions
Chapter 1
Slow Suicide
I sit here and twist my flesh apart,
wondering when the blood might start.
It's not something I might have thought of;
Then again, I thought you were from above.
Maybe an angel, that kind that heaven sends?
So I approached you, surrounded by friends.
The next thing I knew, you had turned away.
You made me hate you, and I felt dismay.
Remember that night, though, when you came?
You just stared at me, then called me by name.
That was the last straw, we did something dubbed 'bad'
And now, too these twisting emotions, I add.
Turned to love, turned to hate, not something to want.
From the sweet tender words to the unloving taunts.
I hate the words that you say, the way you fuck me.
I should have known this, have the insight to see.
It's starting to bleed, and I almost laugh.
The heart is dying, and it's my half.
The music's playing soundlessly as I start to cry.
I'm now happy that I get to die.
Not you.
By: Aliana Demkiiw
Honey brown eyes focused, albeit unclearly, on the sparkling blade in the owner's hand as he dropped the bottle, the yellowish liquid spilling out of its confinement. A lazy smile passed over his face as he watched it, the blade moving on his leg as he adjusted to his position.
Slumped against the wall, a bottle near him, you could have guessed he had been drinking. With the knife, you might have thought he was just going to stab at something, like the floor. The blonde wasn't going to stab anything though; unless anything counted his flesh.
A pale hand lifted itself in a drunken hazard, a pink tongue darting out to wet his lips as he dragged the sharp utensil up his arm. A red mark appeared where it had trailed, blood bubbling barely to the surface, and the boy snorted. No blood, no marks. No anything.
He briefly thought about why he was doing this, the question barely passing through the haze in his mind. Why? Why was he having this sudden fascination with knives that only a white-haired psycho could match? This time the boy laughed, a quiet echo bouncing off the empty wall.
'Because of that damned guy... Seto...'
'What happened? Why am I doing this because of HIM? The stupid asshole... Moneybags... Fucker... Master... He isn't my master anymore... He left me... Well, isn't he at work? And we didn't break up...verbal wise, anyway...But now he doesn't even say he loves me anymore. He says he hates me... Well, I hate him too.'
He winced he absentmindedly stabbed at his arm, this time a bit of blood, which was hardly there, just small bubbles, began to appear. He watched it crawl out of its supposed eternal confinement, the skin slowly turning a messy crimson as it was touched. A gag welled up in his throat as he saw how much blood that little cut could produce. But he was interested now; he hadn't felt too much pain, and he wanted to see how much blood would come with one severe cut.
A stab at his fore arm, one deep, twisting jab. A wince again as he felt the blended ice and fire it produced, and a smile when he saw how much faster it was coming out then the last cut. Two cuts. One more wouldn't hurt, right? It never hurt anyone, two cuts three cuts,
More jabs at his right arm until the cuts were criss-crossed and the haze in his mind increased. He could hardly feel the knife in his hand anymore, but he wanted more- More pain, more blood, more lost memory of the damned, sexy, cold CEO. His eyes could barely make out the pale fuzz that was supposed to be his arm now, but he saw that he was running out of space to cut. So he moved into his other arm.
He continued the stabbing, the haze slowly disappearing as darkness set in. He defiantly couldn't feel the knife in his hand, or his arms for that matter. Or his neck... Or his chest... Or his legs. Well he could feel them, he guessed. But it was kind of like only fire and ice, pain beyond not feeling. He giggled weakly. He couldn't feel anything but pain, what a shame! It felt nice though...
A minute or so later, his head met the floor with an audible thunk, and he closed his eyes. How many minutes had it been? An hour? Would it take an hour for a person to bleed to death? He heard it could take minutes, depending how severe the injuries were. His were... not severe. Or maybe they were. He wasn't no doctor! He forgot where he heard that, though. Well, he knew one thing. He was dead. Not yet, but soon.
Random faces ran through his mind as he tried to catch them, the futile attempts producing nothing. If he brushed his fingers against them, they disappeared without a trace of ever being there. He knew which face was Yugi's, of course; who could miss his hair? And Ryou's hair was pure white, so it wasn't hard to figure out who that was either. Or maybe it was Bakura... One face passed behind him as he stared at another, one with brown hair and green eyes. Honda or Anzu? He couldn't tell. But when the face that passed behind him came to rest in front of him he almost screamed in anger and hatred, sighed with happiness and love.
Seto...
He felt his anger and love rise up and twist as he stared back into cold cobalt eyes, and he suddenly remembered why he was dying. Because that bastard broke his heart and that was the last straw for everything! He was nothing now because he had lost everything! His friends, his family, his education, his home, even his freedom!
He ran towards the face, tears starting to blur his vision without haste. "You're the one I'm dying for, you bastard! You took EVERYTHING away from me!!! You told me you hated me, and is there something wrong for loving the person you wanted!?"
He didn't realize he had yelled until the noise came back to him, his ears become deaf at his own words.
A swing at the face cleared his hearing as he felt only air fly past his fist, and suddenly, everything disappeared. He stumbled and fell as he lost his balance, and the ground disappeared too. He was falling headfirst into his own personal hell, the one he had created. The last thing that crossed his mind and his lips were something he would have hated himself for, he did hate himself for.
"Se...to..."
Jesus Christ, I'm mean to Jou in this one. I'm only going to do a second chapter (Seto's POV), if I decide too. Or if I get one review XD. So yeah. And, Gomen, this is more of a getting-rid-of-a-writers-block ficcie, because I suck .