Yeah? And how long have you been free for? Since we killed you? [He draws himself up to his negligible height, teeth bared, ears flattened against his hair.]
How many times have you gone home to have them spit on you and call you a traitor and a killer and a monster? How many friends and lovers have you had look at you and walk away in disgust because the fucking flesh is rotting off your bones? How many times have you done as good or better than any of them and that's not enough, that's never fucking enough because they all remember what you were and won't ever stop blaming you for that? And you remember it too, because you can't sleep, and you don't breathe, and you don't even have a fucking pulse in your chest, and the first thing you think of when you're surrounded by the living is that you've got to kill them and eat them and rip their souls out because that's what makes it stop hurting.
[He's shaking with fury now but doesn't make the mistake of going after Arthas again.] And even the ones that pretend to be your friends, they just think of you as an interesting experiment, like some kind of stupid pet to be tolerated and kept around and pled for if you get out of line. "Oh, he doesn't know any better, poor thing, his brain's too decomposed." They sit there and take every single fucking thing they have about being living for granted and expect you to smile and nod and take the condescension to your face and never breathe a word of what you really think, and you do it because you know what you are and what they'll say if they think you've turned on them.
And when they leave you there's fuck-all you can do because they're the only ones you had, and it's your fault that they left you to the ones who spit on you and know you for the monster you really are.
[Another snap of teeth.] Have you been through that yet? Or are you just stuck on your little boat with people who wouldn't know what a runeblade was if you shoved Frostmourne down their throats?
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momijizukamori
no subject
Date: 2011-09-07 08:50 am (UTC)How many times have you gone home to have them spit on you and call you a traitor and a killer and a monster? How many friends and lovers have you had look at you and walk away in disgust because the fucking flesh is rotting off your bones? How many times have you done as good or better than any of them and that's not enough, that's never fucking enough because they all remember what you were and won't ever stop blaming you for that? And you remember it too, because you can't sleep, and you don't breathe, and you don't even have a fucking pulse in your chest, and the first thing you think of when you're surrounded by the living is that you've got to kill them and eat them and rip their souls out because that's what makes it stop hurting.
[He's shaking with fury now but doesn't make the mistake of going after Arthas again.] And even the ones that pretend to be your friends, they just think of you as an interesting experiment, like some kind of stupid pet to be tolerated and kept around and pled for if you get out of line. "Oh, he doesn't know any better, poor thing, his brain's too decomposed." They sit there and take every single fucking thing they have about being living for granted and expect you to smile and nod and take the condescension to your face and never breathe a word of what you really think, and you do it because you know what you are and what they'll say if they think you've turned on them.
And when they leave you there's fuck-all you can do because they're the only ones you had, and it's your fault that they left you to the ones who spit on you and know you for the monster you really are.
[Another snap of teeth.] Have you been through that yet? Or are you just stuck on your little boat with people who wouldn't know what a runeblade was if you shoved Frostmourne down their throats?