10-10-2018, 10:19 PM
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YOUNG AND MENACE
Woke up on the wrong side of reality, And there's a madness that's just coursing right through me. And as far as the time, far as the time, Not sure I'm there yet but I'm certain I've arrived. Oops I did it again, I Forgot what I was losing my mind about. I only wrote this down to make you press rewind And send a message, "I was young and a menace." ━━━━━━━━━━━━
people were enemies, that was the first and upmost important rule his father had taught him, besides the one that established that you were nothing unless you made fear seep into the body and let it choke people into submission. if they were not from the tribe, then they were there to only seek havoc and destruction, to slash you up and leave you for dead as they took everything they could to soothe their sickly avarice. it had never occurred to him, either then or now, that it was such a close-minded idea to believe in, and certainly hypocritical considering the things his father orchestrated against other smaller tribes. but he was-is only a machine, meant to only fight for his people, and be punished if he even so much took a mental glimpse at the morality of everything he was taught. they were right, strangers were wrong, and meant to be destroyed by his jaws or claws.
the spots in front of his icy blue eyes had begun to overtake his vision as the first sign of life besides his own came into view. it took some moments for his senses to pick up on the stranger in front of him, who seems to be standing there, not doing anything besides staying silent and being the prime example of what his father would call a perfect target. however, he does nothing at all, besides leaving even more crimson liquid on the ground below him and heavily wheeze in and out oxygen that burned his throat. were he less battered and be in total sync with his mind, the pathetic little thing in front of him would have been torn to shreds in mere seconds. yet here he is, barely narrowing his eyes into slits and understanding that this was a stranger in front of him. however, when the creature began to get closer to him and form unfamiliar (yet oh so familiar... was this little prey part of the group he escaped from?) words with his mouth, boy pulls back his lips to form a disgusting snarl, blood-tinted canines on full display. but is it from the sudden spikes of pain running through his body, or a warning to not dare get closer to him? even he doesn't know.
more spots clog up his vision and his breathing has become more shaky. even then, he knew he had to fight. better to die with your last dying breath than go pathetically. soon 2 other puny creatures join the first one, and he lets out a growl, albeit a fairly faint and squeaky one. his claws are itching to be sheathed, but he does nothing, because they're not doing anything. instead of taking advantage of his weak state and swiftly ending him right then and there, they are simply talking amongst one another, every so often looking at him. what tribe do they come from, and how do they even survive with the low moral codes they seem to have? not slaughter a dangerous or weak creature trespassing on their territory? awful way to live. his fuzzy train of thought is interrupted as the smallest of them all, possibly a child (how dare they let a child out of their camp? his tribe hardly even let the children tumble out of the huts), shuffles away, far from sight. his snarl seems to deepen even more as he begins to think of the little rascal screeching in that tongue of theirs about this pitiful tiger on their territory just begging to be ended and scarfed up for food.
once again deep in his scattered mind, he doesn't realize that the first of them to find him is getting closer, or that he doesn't seem to be contemplating on hurting him at all. it takes some few seconds for his eyes to slowly follow the smaller creature's path, and even more seconds for him to even feel the paw on one of his wounds. his icy blue eyes widen and, with speed that only serves to pump up his adrenaline and hurt him even more, he picks up an arm and attempts to bring it down on bakugou with intense strength, although still sluggishly. his jaw opens up to let out a few raspy yet angered growls and grunts of his native tongue ('don't you dare touch me, you pathetic little thing' he says, though he hasn't noticed the fact that nobody would understand his language.) perhaps it was the wrong move, if the extra pain shooting through his body was of any indication, but his flicking yet wild mind wasn't ready to let anything that seems an attack come at him. his breathing is more deep now and his eyes scream with ferocity, but he can feel himself fading in and out, and he lets out a few more unconscious quiet whines and whimpers as the pain just seems to slowly increase. pathetic, he calls himself in his mind, though in his father's disapproving voice.
/ wOW AIN'T THIS LATE ASDFGHJKL. but, the last paragraph is the juicy stuff really; i just love to accidentally add too much insight on this dumb fuck. feel free to also bitch slap boy into unconsciousness and patch him up
the spots in front of his icy blue eyes had begun to overtake his vision as the first sign of life besides his own came into view. it took some moments for his senses to pick up on the stranger in front of him, who seems to be standing there, not doing anything besides staying silent and being the prime example of what his father would call a perfect target. however, he does nothing at all, besides leaving even more crimson liquid on the ground below him and heavily wheeze in and out oxygen that burned his throat. were he less battered and be in total sync with his mind, the pathetic little thing in front of him would have been torn to shreds in mere seconds. yet here he is, barely narrowing his eyes into slits and understanding that this was a stranger in front of him. however, when the creature began to get closer to him and form unfamiliar (yet oh so familiar... was this little prey part of the group he escaped from?) words with his mouth, boy pulls back his lips to form a disgusting snarl, blood-tinted canines on full display. but is it from the sudden spikes of pain running through his body, or a warning to not dare get closer to him? even he doesn't know.
more spots clog up his vision and his breathing has become more shaky. even then, he knew he had to fight. better to die with your last dying breath than go pathetically. soon 2 other puny creatures join the first one, and he lets out a growl, albeit a fairly faint and squeaky one. his claws are itching to be sheathed, but he does nothing, because they're not doing anything. instead of taking advantage of his weak state and swiftly ending him right then and there, they are simply talking amongst one another, every so often looking at him. what tribe do they come from, and how do they even survive with the low moral codes they seem to have? not slaughter a dangerous or weak creature trespassing on their territory? awful way to live. his fuzzy train of thought is interrupted as the smallest of them all, possibly a child (how dare they let a child out of their camp? his tribe hardly even let the children tumble out of the huts), shuffles away, far from sight. his snarl seems to deepen even more as he begins to think of the little rascal screeching in that tongue of theirs about this pitiful tiger on their territory just begging to be ended and scarfed up for food.
once again deep in his scattered mind, he doesn't realize that the first of them to find him is getting closer, or that he doesn't seem to be contemplating on hurting him at all. it takes some few seconds for his eyes to slowly follow the smaller creature's path, and even more seconds for him to even feel the paw on one of his wounds. his icy blue eyes widen and, with speed that only serves to pump up his adrenaline and hurt him even more, he picks up an arm and attempts to bring it down on bakugou with intense strength, although still sluggishly. his jaw opens up to let out a few raspy yet angered growls and grunts of his native tongue ('don't you dare touch me, you pathetic little thing' he says, though he hasn't noticed the fact that nobody would understand his language.) perhaps it was the wrong move, if the extra pain shooting through his body was of any indication, but his flicking yet wild mind wasn't ready to let anything that seems an attack come at him. his breathing is more deep now and his eyes scream with ferocity, but he can feel himself fading in and out, and he lets out a few more unconscious quiet whines and whimpers as the pain just seems to slowly increase. pathetic, he calls himself in his mind, though in his father's disapproving voice.
/ wOW AIN'T THIS LATE ASDFGHJKL. but, the last paragraph is the juicy stuff really; i just love to accidentally add too much insight on this dumb fuck. feel free to also bitch slap boy into unconsciousness and patch him up
i got your girl on panic, iced out my wrist, titanic ☾* premades ☾* gone