wait till u find out im actually insane and it's not a joke
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
will byers stan first human second
DEAR READER
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@shepherdofdawn
wait till u find out im actually insane and it's not a joke
Is Tobi a good boi or bad boi.
"Now see that depends! Tobi is a good boi, but SOMETIMES the others think Tobi is a bad boi. Tobi doesn't see what's ''''unprofessional'''' about his midday dancing, though, so it doesn't count. The opinions of corgis don't matter to sheep!"
"I DON'T NEED A HUG AND FEELINGS ARE STUPID, HM!!!"
deidakatsu:
“Robots I— what.
I’m not a robot, Tobi. I just– talking about feelings and all that mushy stuff is stupid and pointless, hm. It doesn’t make my style.”
“I dunnoooo, that sounds an awful lot like what a robot would say to keep itself secret. Maybe Deidara-Senpai is just a grumpy little tin man, hmmmmm~?” One finger briefly jabbed into opposing shoulder -- soft, certainly, but that’s how they got you, wasn’t it? Jovial footsteps carried him further from striking range, as if done with the conversation and ready to move on -- yet, Tobi spun on heel fast enough to only just keep his balance in the process. “Oooo Tobi knows!!! They sell tourist-y shirts with all kinds of crap written on them! We could change your style!! Ooooor...... Maybe you start cutting onions -- no! Wait! Deidara-Senpai would have to form an emotional bond first; that doesn’t work.....”
The tobi design was Really Important so i can show you the first dumb thing I produced for this AU
He's distant but he comes to them for Advices(tm)
The cylinder is fine he went to the ER to free it.
could you be any more annoying.. lol
Easily
"I DON'T NEED A HUG AND FEELINGS ARE STUPID, HM!!!"
“Feelings are stupid? Oh no! Should Tobi be worried that the robots have gotten to you too? Tobi shall have to tell Leader-Senpai right away!! We can’t have Deidara-Senpai beeping and booping like a little metal freak!!!”
the amazing devil lyric sentence starters ↪ taken from their entire discography to date. trigger warnings for religion, depression, alcohol, war, sex, & more. some ( but very few ) lyrics have been tweaked to work better as full sentences. alter as you see fit ♡ this is a long post.
“i can’t do this.”
“never say how much you missed her, or that you kissed her sister.”
“fuck all your plans i’m bored.”
“i promise you i’ll be better.”
“i made a vow out to the gods.”
“wе didn’t talk. we made universеs out of bitten lips and broken hands.”
“she laughs as though she’s not heard the joke ten thousand times before.”
“we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
“you used to buy me scotch, but now too much is never enough.”
“these aren’t tears, it’s just the rain that wasn’t brave enough to fall.”
“don’t you realise? they’re just battle cries, dear.”
“stop asking why i’m sad; just know it’s enough to know i’m sad.”
“stop listening to the smiths.”
“if you asked me, i would lose it all, like petals in a storm.”
“it’s getting late.”
“you’re lying on some coats.”
“whatever you do, don’t turn.”
“run until your lungs are numb.”
“run to show that love’s worth running to.”
“it cannot be a lie if no-one hears.”
“how unreasonably in love i am with everything you do.”
“they might laugh because you’re leaving, but know we’ll sing your name when you come home.”
“for christ’s sake just say something.”
“our love is shown in the letting go.”
“this isn’t a break up, dear heart, it’s a season finale.”
“and i’ll withstand what’s written for the writer in you.”
“they’re discussing champagne.”
“i pack what is needed for thе journey to come: all my books, all my bracken and booze.”
“who’ll save you when you fall?”
“sing me awake with a song about pirates.”
“i’m not lonely if i’m with you.”
“welcome to ruin.”
“i do my best to breathe, but they’re stealing all the air.”
“i’m dolled up, love.”
“remember today you’re enough.”
“know we’ll always love you, even though you’re leaving us behind.”
“so breathe, breathe, just breathe.”
“it’s nought that rum won’t solve.”
“every time we watch netflix we spend two hours deciding what to watch on netflix.”
“i’m between that ‘just one more’ and ‘drank too much again’.”
“this here is not singing, i’m just screaming in tune.”
“i don’t know what to do, how to help her, how to bring her home.”
“i can’t wait to show you how much i know you can be.”
“let’s wander, ‘til the fuckers demand an encore.”
“some fictions we took to mean fate.”
“the party swirls around me in a dress i can’t afford.”
“if by palace you mean that asbestos, and beans from a tin, and the gin that we brewed in the bathtub.”
“it’s not fair how much i love you.”
“it’s what my heart just yearns to say in ways that can’t be said.”
“a storm is coming on.”
“come on, love, please don’t start.”
“never really liked the pattern that much on the wallpaper so anyway.”
“you brought me through this darkness but you left me here behind.”
“i’ve got something in my eye.”
“they’re just dollops of paint on a new work of art.”
“i’ve seen enough.”
“you’ll love the way i tell it.”
“for some reason you’ve painted the kitchen lime green.”
“you’re the words that i promise i don’t mean.”
“i surrender what was, what could have been.”
“got a headache that just won't shift.”
“it’s what my rotting bones will sing when the rest of me is dead.”
“i know the kindest thing is to leave you alone.”
“i wish that i could take his hand, but where i’m going is for me and me alone.”
“i chipped my teeth on every joke you cracked.”
“and when i think i’m fine, you’ll visit.”
“tell the truth to me, love, does my hair look as nice as it did when it once tangled up in your eyes?”
“i will bring you ruin in everything i do.”
“i might not make it tonight.”
“you angel heart. you monster, oh, some godforsaken prospero.”
“if you knew all that i’d done …”
“remember me i ask.”
“they’re running out of things to hold.”
“back then you had hair and your smile was so sublime.”
“if you knew all that i’d done … the hearts i’ve broken.”
“write me well my love, write me weird, write me willing, write me well.”
“don’t say anything.”
“you don’t see daylight anymore.”
“don’t you know that it’s not all about you anyway?”
“i promise you i’ll try.”
“pray for me ‘cause i won’t pray for you.”
“let’s hide under the covers.”
“she sang, ‘do you think i’m sexy?’ and oh god i really did.”
“and for some godforsaken reason i’m still here, love, like i’ve always been before.”
“we’ll build a den out of pillows and get drunk again.”
“all that matters is that you’re here.”
“just because i left doesn’t mean that i’m not still there.”
“i’ve waited oh so long for you to come.”
“it seems to me that you can’t sleep.”
“oh, if one more guy calls me darling then i swear to you and to god i will murder them all.”
“wе’re both unwanted daughters.”
“do you like my dress? it’s got pockets.”
“there’s only faces of the unfamous dead; full of people just pretending to be brave.”
“i’ve run out of my words, my song, just let me die.”
“so one last time, love, come and rip my clothes off.”
“when you think about him, my wings start to flap.”
“don’t you think i look pretty curled up on this bathroom floor?”
“run for all the things you wished you’d done.”
“why are you wearing all that make up?”
“and now, even though you’re mad and these memories won’t stay, that’s okay, 'cause then i get to meet you for the first time every single day.”
“i’m learning to be so much more than my tiredness.”
“gonna go home and show my cat some memes.”
“can’t you see that i’m enough for you but you don’t want me to be, 'cause that means you’ll actually have to be content?”
“i don’t find this easy like you.”
“i loved him then, i love him still.”
“you can’t rehearse the chorus, but the verse is sweet.”
“i steal the hours and turn the night into day.”
“i don’t know how to reach you when you get like this.”
“i’m the heartbreak that aches far too much to be shunned.”
“you’re not a coward 'cause you cower; you’re brave because they broke you, yet broken still you breathe.”
“i’m at the brink, don’t laugh.”
“i’d bruise you.”
“i’ll run until i begin to understand what holy men really mean when they speak of sin.”
“i said ‘pour’ and forgot to say ‘when’.”
“champagne’s the main course.”
“we’ll dance together so close we’re sharing breath.”
“i wish i’d known these stones were something i could save.”
“i love you less.”
“get a grip, we’re grownups.”
“let’s take this outside 'cause we’re one and the same.”
“a broken pot can still hold water.”
“i spend my days so close to you 'cause if i’m standing here, maybe everyone will think i’m alright.”
“think of all the horrors that i promised you i’d bring.”
“can you pass me the lighter mate?”
“i’m fine, it’s just a ‘sitting down in the shower’ day.”
“now take a good long look at what you’ve done to me.”
“with you, i could summon the gods and the stars.”
“gonna go home and dress my cat up like batman.”
“on that tree i’ll carve your name ‘cause in years to come we both know we won’t be the same.”
“we can both barely stand.”
“i can smell the smoke of hell.”
“if there was one place i could be right now, i’d be standing there between you and him.”
“ ‘cause darling, i was born to press my head between your shoulder blades.”
“i raged so much.”
“you are that space that’s in between every page, every chord and every screen.”
“i’m all yours.”
“i try so hard to make you laugh at me.”
“but like rubbing wine stains into rugs, it’s my curse to try and make it right, but by trying make it worse.”
“i’m so sorry, i’ve done it again.”
“it’s up to you now.”
“i get to watch you grow up now and make me proud, make all of those mistakes that make me laugh.”
“where’s the vodka?”
“something’s sucking out your core.”
“what you see is not the dark, it’s just the gods upturning inkpots.”
“who died and made you king of it all?”
“it seems to me that you you can’t dance for shit.”
“there’s no fucking way you’re from [place].”
“we didn’t talk.”
“and the candle we lit, well we’ll use it to burn this whole place to the ground.”
“he said, hey, darling, hey, hey, darling, hey.”
“i know they think i’m nightmare.”
“take my hand, let us waltz for the dead.”
“for you, i would have gone so much blonder.”
“it’s not fair, 'cause you make me laugh when i’m actually really fucking cross at you for something.”
“go tell them how we failed you.”
“symphonies and sweat and sex mean nothing when you are obsessed with sin and soil and strength and song and all the words that came out wrong and him.”
“we don’t know what’s out there.”
“i look into the waters and see a face i don’t recognise.”
“let’s try and fit into the same pair of stretchy old track pants and just roll around inside each other for three whole days.”
“we showed the world that we exist.”
“your smile tells me i’m safe.”
“it’s like all the wallpaper inside my heart is slowly slowly peeling off and i’m showing all the stains and things they wrote on the wall before.”
“might you allow me to slip into something more comfortable then?”
“you stole the best years of my life.”
“all hell and its fire waits for us.”
“we’ll make our christmas decorations out of toilet roll tubes and tinfoil.”
“how bold i was, could be - will be - still am, by god still am.”
“it’s what i meant.”
“welcome to my table, bring your hunger.”
“you’re the one who told me my hair looked better black.”
“i’ll sing silence, and ask my glass of wine for guidance.”
“what changed?”
“'then maybe you’d still be snuggled here in my bed watching netflix. and now i can’t 'cause you changed the password when you left.”
“i wish that i’d been brave.”
“we callеd them all liars.”
“but you lack the conviction to look at me straight and say yes.”
“there’s something changed.”
“give me two damn minutes and i’ll be fine.”
“you watch the stars hurl all their fundaments in wonderment.”
“get drunk for me, sing louder than you’ve sung for me.”
“what’s that hold that the big dark king of nothing has got on you?”
“but i’ll stick up for you, even though you haven’t got a fucking clue.”
“i cannot sleep when all you do is cry.”
“i toast to their talents.”
“how wrong you were.”
“i tried, i really fucking tried.”
“'cause although you say good day to me, i know i don’t belong.”
“sweet nothings are screamed not spoken.”
“back then i was dauntless.”
“all the bastards applaud when i show that i’m flawed.”
“now my ink’s blood-red, not black.”
“it’s just sometimes nice to feel what it’s like to be in someone else’s coat.”
“you were raised by wolves and voices.”
“i mop up what is left of my lungs.”
“i could try to calm you down but i know you won’t.”
“it’s my dad’s.”
“you were supposed to be my light and keep me safe against them all. how could you leave me here?”
“everyone knows how sex is better when you’re unemployed.”
“and i laugh, and i laugh ‘cause laughing right now, it’s all, it’s all that i have.”
“farewell wanderlust, you’ve been oh so kind.”
“you’re not flawed darling, you’re just a little under-rehearsed.”
“it’s never my intention but it happens all the same.”
“your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep, but a place for crows to rest their feet.”
“i’m not going to scream, beat my chest at the wind. i’m doing fine.”
“you’ll never get your dinner if you don’t learn how to get along.”
“oh we, we’re gonna get on.”
“i make myself acquainted with the saint of never getting it right.”
“i would have stayed if you’d had asked.”
“fret not dear heart.”
“i’m here and i’m alive.”
“this is us, this is me, and this how we’re meant to be.”
“i cannot find the words to keep you.”
“come rest for the winter, wear my jumper all night long.”
“you look like i need a drink.”
“are you god or devil?”
“i’m the hardest goodbye that you’ll ever have to say.”
“i’ll play our song to see if the piano’s in tune.”
“come rip up the flesh of my fears.”
“do you think she even knows i bought my shoes from oxfam?”
“could be ghosts or monsters or a robot vampire, i dunno.”
“what the hell went wrong, 'cause we had this planned.”
“without you, i’m stronger, i’m no longer filled with wonder.”
“the best laid plans had it all planned.”
“oh darling lord, how you make me laugh.”
“look at me as you say this, don’t look at your phone.”
“i know i won’t be long ‘cause i know i don’t belong.”
“can’t you see that i’m enough for you but you don’t want me to be?”
“do y’know what they cost?”
“if god make us all in his image, then god’s a fucking nerd.”
“if i’m good, will you come back?”
“is that what you think of me now?”
“i should go home.”
“i’ll spend my days so close to you 'cause if i’m standing here maybe everyone will think i’m cool.”
“i know she’s giving up.”
“he’s falling out of touch.”
“you don’t have to be brilliant.”
“i promise you there’s more.”
“i need a drink or two.”
“you dad will forget the words.”
“and i love you, don’t you know.”
“do i have to be who i am?”
“i’ll give them back.”
“i’ll yell it from the rooftops for you.”
“it’s just your voice learning for once to stand up tall.”
“every night i hear them howling.”
“for a time there is timelessness.”
“you’re all mine.”
“you gave us such a fright.”
“i won’t let you turn our last night into this.”
“i’ve been waiting for you to come home.”
“let not them hear the mutterings of all your fears.”
“i know exactly what i want, and it’s this life that we’ve created.”
“this here is not makeup, it’s a porcelain tomb.”
“my heart is tearing pages from that funny story i rehearsed.”
“i’m not lonеly, i just like being on my own.”
“are you cain, 'cause i’m not abel.”
“yeah, well i’m sorry too.”
“take me back to that dance hall where you got thrown out 'cause they thought you were drunk.”
“you are screaming far too loud to hear me swear.”
“for the first time in all my life, i know i’m more than what i fear.”
“i’ll take my fucking time.”
“can’t we just talk about this?”
“certainly fucking feels like it.”
“i’m not telling but you can fuck off if no one will come back for you.”
“you’re better than this.”
“you’re going too fast.”
“he’s got so much fucking hair.”
“sometimes i fall to pieces, just to see what bits of me don’t fit.”
“of all the flowers you picked, i knew you would forget forget-me-nots.”
“don’t you ever wonder what could have been?”
“my dress is on fire.”
“we don’t have time to fuck around.”
“i will be the man my father never was.”
“the oldies at the back try their best to hack their way out with the gardener’s pruning shears.”
“did you tell them about the time we met?”
“your face lights up like you’ve woken up from this endless fucking nightmare of pretending this is you.”
“if we join our hands in prayer enough to god, i imagine it all starts to sound like applause.”
“and fucking bastard what is it.”
“but now i’m leading doesn’t that just scare you to death?”
“although you hold my hand and say ‘i love you,’ you are wrong.”
“they’ll sing of every time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child.”
“let’s dance together.”
“i hope to god i’m not the first.”
“we’re drunk but drinking.”
“a new us has begun.”
“i will try to harmonise.”
“witness me, old man, i am the wild.”
“please don’t do this, my heart is breaking.”
“my head’s not yours it’s mine.”
“stop making up death wishes.”
“you do not get to hurt me just because i asked you once if you were alright.”
“want some pancakes?”
“i can’t do this, you don’t understand.”
“they’ll speak of me in whispered tones and say my name like it shakes their bones.”
“i’m stronger now than you have ever known.”
“you couldn’t lie then and you sure as hell can’t lie to me now.”
“so long to the person you begged me to be.”
“nothing quite prepares you for when they don’t come back.”
“i forgot to pack them lunches.”
“he’s awesome, like me.”
“flirting at the back of a bookshop.”
“i forgive them at last.”
“if you ever touch or harm him, please rest assured that you might not fear a man, but to a woman by the end you’ll kneel and plea.”
“why won’t you just tell them all to fuck off, love, and be mine?”
“welcome to the storm, i am thunder.”
“i’d burn so bright it blinded.”
“it’s not fair 'cause you make me ache, you bastard.”
“i’d catch you every time you fell.”
“give me back my heart, you wingless thing.”
“can’t you hear that scratching? there’s something at the door.”
“you say the words so often that i barely know the meaning.”
“you are in the earth of me.”
“do you like my accent?”
“why won’t you believe i love you if i’m not hurting you?”
“oh, the hearts i’ve broken …”
“what you hear is not silence, it’s just the trees waiting to hear what next you’ll hum.”
“that creaking you hear in my bones is not pain, it’s applause.”
“don’t turn around dear.”
“with every strength i have, i ask if you play d&d.”
“hold my hand.”
“my friends are telling me i’m pissed.”
“you try so hard.”
“run for all you know that’s coming.”
“you brought me to this party but you left me here behind.”
“i love you.”
“i wish i’d done things different.”
“it doesn’t know how to get out.”
“i don’t know, but i’m here, i’m all yours, dear heart, don’t cry.”
“i look at the phone on the floor and i drink that nice wine you were saving.”
“watch me choke at your bad joke.”
“they said it all comes down to you.”
“i won’t leave without a fight.”
“when you were young, you’d kick things just to see if they would fall.”
“i know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone.”
“’cause i’m not trapped, with you, you see - you’re the one who’s trapped with me.”
“christ, you’ll be the death of me.”
“you’re the one who told me to never look back.”
“my jokes are my armour, and my kindness is my sword.”
“i make jokes to show how broken i really am.”
“you were in a band.”
“remember today you are loved.”
“hold me, lover, like you used to.”
“and i will wait and hope and rest my head at night content knowing where my marbles went.”
“me wearing your clothes just to surprise you when you come home all tired of those wankers that you serve all night.”
“it’s saving me now, love.”
“how the fuck am i supposed to carry on without you here?”
“the wine stains hide the tears.”
“you rip my ribcage open and devour what’s truly yours.”
“what’s the point anymore?”
“don’t lie with your eyes, you know i despise that look.”
“oh my god it’s so unfair.”
“be good to me.”
“and that drink, will it fix all those questions unasked?”
“i am the wild.”
“i know you’re strong enough to do this on your own.”
“i know that i’ve been through the wars.”
“you’re the thigh-high hemline i just can’t stop staring at.”
“he doesn’t understand.”
“today i somehow understand the reason i was born.”
“fuck you.”
“but where you see weakness i see wit.”
“the minute i met you, the colours of my life began to pour.”
“try please try for me.”
“i pick up the phone, dial your number and wait.”
“i’ve loved you, for a hundred years.”
“why so sad?”
“if my old mum could see me now, oh how she’d howl.”
“i put up fairy lights just to distract you.”
“i’ve even learned to cook.”
“you’ve no clue how to sew.”
“we’d hate to see your mascara drip into your pint.”
“i’m filming shit on that camera you nicked.”
“you don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not.”
“our gods have abandoned us.”
“i’m the tales that the guests will applaud and believe.”
“a song you know's begun.”
“oh those folks will run and tell the tales of what i’ve become.”
“where have you been?”
“i’m the captain of courage you’ve eternally lacked.”
“i watched that woman drown.”
“where i’m going is for me and me alone.”
“i’ll run until i begin to understand what holy men really mean when they speak of sand and sons and seams and symphonies and sweat and sex and sin.”
“it’s so boring.”
“you dragged us both into the darkness that grows.”
“tear me up and burn me up and rip me up and leave your hand on the wall as you go.”
“it’s not fair 'cause you make me weep when i’m just trying to watch the office with my yoghurt.”
“be good, be safe, be kind.”
“what’s left is the mess that you left when you told me i wasn’t right in the head.”
“go tell them how we fucked you up.”
“i don’t want them to go.”
“just relax and come to bed with me.”
“you try so loud to love me; i cannot seem to hear.”
“i’ll darn you back together.”
“tomorrow’s jokes have yet to be laughed at or said.”
“i promise you i’m not broken.”
“i promise to be patient.”
“i’ve been here so many times before.”
“you’re so beautiful to me.”
“i’m untangling my headphones ‘cause sometimes they’re the only thing that keeps my head in place.
“i’m going to binge watch a box set, drink wine, reminisce.”
“pour me wine by my bed.”
“i’ll watch her ruin her life and dye her hair bright colours.”
“you promise to be kind.”
“oh, darling, please be mine.”
“i drag myself like a rug in the rain.”
“i’m your angel ellipsis, your devil of dots.”
“i promise you i’ll write.”
“i’m the saint of the paint that was left in the pot.”
“it’s so boring to see you tired all the time.”
“i’m scared of the dark.”
“these hands are growing cold.”
“i know your fingernails are the colour of rust.”
“if i don’t make it back from where i’ve gone, just know i loved you all along.”
“you’re the one who asked me if i’m feeling ok.”
“honey i’m no man, i’m what’s left when children go to war.”
“back then i wasn’t hopeful.”
“just watch me burn.”
“i’ll make a hundred paper planes to decorate our tiny room.”
“why won’t you let me follow in your footsteps as you trek into that underground world?”
fallesto·:
Who was this man. What did he truly even know about him? Did it even truly matter at all. He aided him all these years. Held his hand on this path, but there was to come a time when there grip on one another would loosen and then…break. Power was a dangerous thing and with eight of the beasts sealed, it was just that…a matter of time and nothing more than that. Here they were now at last. The end of this…relationship. This partnership was to come to an end, with one of them alive and the other one of them dead. It was the only way to ensure his plans would go ahead. The world had to be corrected, the course adjusted and there was only one way to do that. One way to fix that…one had to kill the other.
“You have been dead…for a long time…you are merely existing and nothing more.”
He remained still. He would wish to greet him with his true body. See him with his own eyes, stand before him…but it was impossible, the man knew it. He knew what has become of him as well…it was oriocinc really. He was dead himself as well…just existing and nothing more. His pain and hatred for this world keeping him alive when he should have been dead, so long ago, but he could not stop, how could he ever stop when he was this close, when he was so close to the end. The world he promised to make for his friend…it was so close now he just had to push a little bit more and it would be…real.
“You kept me in the dark, that was your choice. Things could have been different if you trusted me a little bit more.” After all he has done for the man. He didn’t know his name, he didn’t know anything about him, he only knew that they had a shared interest and vision for this world, to end all the fighting once and for all. “Madara…failed a long time ago. His vision of a world of peace, he wasn’t strong enough to make it true.” He allowed…that slip of his true name to go, he would not act…not yet. It was a coml;iment, but it felt more like an insult to him to be called…the name of a dead man. “Then tell me the truth for once. You know everything about me, I know nothing of you. Your face means little to me, I know nothing about you. You have had years to be honest to me, why now. Why so close to the end. Why when we are so near. You fear these nations? That are uniting against us? We will crush them all under our heel. You need naught fear them…I don’t want to kill you…you saved me years ago, aided me, helped me…but…I cannot live within a world of lies, of trickey, an illusion is not…the world I wish to create.” He remained were he was. He would not act. He would do nothing unless this man made the first move and then and only then would he act and end this once and for all.
“You told me you were Madara…I knew that to be a lie. The name meant nothing to me back then and even now it means just as little. Tell me your true name…who you are…where you have come from…why you are doing this…to help me come this far…you have a reason…you are not merely serving for no reason.”
It didn’t have to come to this. It didn’t have to all come crashing down. As he slowly raised his hand up and then outwards. Fingers spreading as he offered his hand for the other to take. He wished to know…who he was and why he has done the things that he has done. Why he has killed so many people, why he has fought so hard to be here, why…a great man questions and so little answers. He helped him kill Hanzo. He helped him take this country and become the leader. He helped him gain access to all lands, great bases, make connections and hunt the tailed beasts. All these questions and he only knew this man as Madara and nothing else. Another lie. Another falsehood, another betrayal as he kept his hand offered to him to take.
“Tell me the truth for once…I am…a kind god…I can even…forgive someone like you…if you speak truly to me.”
Looking down the face of a cliff... Always, there was something alluring about the ideations about jumping -- yet when it came to the tensing of musculature, the shoving off the rocks, most found more than a little hesitation. Something something about the will to live, or whatever -- leave the uncomfortable frayed ends of the metaphor there, back away from where it might apply to Obito himself; if this was what life was to be, he wanted nothing more to do with it, and frankly, he was personally offended that Pain had thus far stayed his hand. Were there other options to be had? Perhaps. There sure seemed a plethora, from the amount of nonsense others nestled down into it. That, however, hardly made the gamble a safe one; there was always going to be the chance that other options were just as intolerable, or perhaps even that other options existed solely for those who weren’t Obito. He had once wanted a good life, of doing good things for the greater whole of society and especially for those he loved, after all; hadn’t that gotten him exactly where he was now, well beyond drowning in his own misery?
“Careful now,” Obito’s bemusement spat directly in the face of the grim subject matter, yet it only went tone-deep; whatever sick humor he felt at the notion of his own demise hadn’t conferenced with the distant hollows of his eyes to share the sentiment. “You might just convince me that gods do exist.”
Heavy was the breath that escaped his form, weighed down by the bulk of things yet to be shared. Much remained cloaked in shadows, seen naught by any but himself and those who wished to break him further, to crush his soul into a malleable tool to be used for whatever they so pleased -- and he had to give it to them, they may very well have succeeded. But, he supposed, the trick was that in teaching the dog to adapt to anything and everything, to bite and kill and lie, they had made him into the very thing they didn’t want: a loose cannon who would just as easily look down the barrel himself as he would point it at those he was meant to.
“Even a worm will turn,” he finally replied, sight wandering the lines of the walls. Funny... Even now, in the midst of pure, wholehearted betrayal, he couldn’t really pinpoint a reason why. Was Pain truly any better than Madara? Probably not. Both were liable to cut ties at the throat once they had what they wished -- that was the plan from the beginning. He wasn’t blind enough to overlook that. Yet, there he sat, perfectly willing to proverbially disembowel his ancestor for the gaze of a man who likely still intended to kill him regardless of how this back and forth of theirs went. Hell, he might even be willing to do so literally if Pain played his cards right.
“I am.....” Words caught in his throat. Obito was dead, rotting, nothing. The Masked Man, Madara. Both lies and trickery. Tobi was nothing more than a ruse to take his misery out on some godforsaken kid who’d done nothing but be forced to put up with him. Head tilted back with the closing of eyes. What, really, was the truth? “.... Obito.... Uchiha Obito, I... Suppose. Why I have chosen now to shuck all of the masks I have worn in my decades of servitude, I... I don’t know. There is nothing to fear from the likes of my home country, nor any of the others; they kneel unaware of the flimsy nature of their stability, nor of the blade at their throat.... Perhaps.... We shall call it.... Exhaustion. Or maybe nostalgia. I was akin to your late friend, once; I had ambitions for making the world better for my being here.....”
Bearing his soul like this.... Was it fuel, or was it honesty? Did he expect it to be anything more than a pathetic epithet upon the headstone he didn’t deserve? “But.... Some of us are only ever allowed one mistake. Mine was thinking that the man who saved my life, who shares my blood, would want for me at least tolerable things in this hell... I won’t speak as though it doesn’t make me a lesser being, for being broken down and warped as I was, but that is the only truth I can offer. My naïve faith in family blinded me, and I have had everything I ever was or could once have been destroyed for it. So I reiterate: I am no one, nothing. All that I am is a hollowed out husk sharpened into a weapon for Madara to use in his absence, and to bring that absence to an eventual end.”
Slowly, Obito’s eye opened once more, staring at length at the blank ceiling before drifting back down to Pain. Expression, however, fell quickly to disbelief. With as little as Pain knew of him, he was willing to offer an olive branch? “That may be a grave mistake on your behalf, but.... I am scarcely willing to call you a foolish being.” That which is offered may well have been in itself a falsehood, meant to bring him into a sense of safety and make an easier victim. Not wholly necessary -- Obito would’ve allowed him more than ample opportunity to open any one of his veins without much of a struggle -- but a reasonable sentiment all the same. Most men of Obito’s power and notoriety were hardly so willing to be put six feet under. Still.... Albeit met with the stain of hesitancy and uncertainty, it’s a sentiment received with the grasping of once-opposing hands all the same.
“At least, we agree: hell with a pretty veil is still hell...”
”Well, there’s always room for growth.”
Who would win, a skinny compact pale anemic kid that can survive under any conditions or one tol beefman with rejection issues and is allergic to tap water? @shepherdofdawn
Are you kidding me this is even a question?? The tap water, ofc. It's like rock paper scissors, except anemic beefcake tap water @moralreflection
fallesto·:
This was always going to end this way. Power such as this could not be shared by two people. So close to the end, one of them had to make the move first. It was better to end this matter now before it spiraled out of control, before more people got pulled into this dangerous game they have been playing within the darkness for all of these years. He merely remained still and stared upon that orange swirl mask. His eyes wide open as he just looked upon it. In truth…he knew nothing about this man. Very little. Just enough, to keep this deadly alliance going.
“You are glad you are about to die…” How many times, has he been summoned to this chamber. To be spoken to in that mocking voice. To be treated like all the others, a mere servant to this masked man. He hated it. To bow to someone like this, someone who was…merely using him and nothing more than that. The plot was almost over. Only one tailed beast remained. He would not be commanded like a mere dog to go and fetch it, not when he knew the threat of this man, was real. That he could not be left, alive for when he started to seal the nine tailed beast.
“You are too dangerous to be left alive. Your interests…don’t align with my own. The world i wish to create, is one that is real and not the lie you wish to cast the world within. No matter how powerful you think it may be, an illusion is just that…it is false. The ones you have lost…you cannot bring them back.” He remained still. As the masked man, teased with him. Playing his games. Annoying him to know end. As he sat there, crossed legged, merely talking to a god that fully intended on killing him.
“We are the same. We both hide behind dead men to carry out our actions. The only difference is, mine is out of respect for my friend, yours…is to keep Madara tattered legacy of failure alive. People still fear that name…if only they knew how pathetic he truly was.” A tapping sound, as he played with his mask. As he was tempted, to crush the life out of him here and now. “It doesn’t matter who you are. You are dead to he world, we both are. You will die here and now and I will soon join you, when I complete the work. I will burn this world, usher in a paradise and I will pass. God will not be needed, in a world that only knows peace. Whomever you are, behind the mask…you are nothing more, than a man hiding from his past. Let me…send you to all those you have lost.”
It didn’t matter. How could his sharingan, hurt a god. How could his eyes, look into the eyes of a dead man. How could he sway, a corpse. His sharingan meant nothing before a divine being. As the deva path merely walked forward. So…he was right then, he was no one at all. No one worth knowing. Just another man, grabbing for power. Nothing more, nothing less.
“All this time…you were nobody of note. Everything you have ever told me, was a lie. You used the name of a dead man, one that held power. To sway me to follow you. You commanded me, to carry out your bidding, to gather these tailed beasts for you. Do you know…how many of our comrades died, to achieve this and not once…did you utter a single word. You are…no one. Just a ghost. You cannot feel a thing. All this death, chaos and pain…I have learned a great deal from you, how horrible…humanity is. How much…this world truly needs me to cleanse it.”
Really, this was only ever going to end one of two ways: killed by Madara for the completion of his tasks and the proceeding lack of utility ( the message: you are only ever required when you are useful, boy ) or by the hands of an angry, self-proclaimed god for things that he....... Well, most likely had a hand in doing. Memory of everything was shoddy, at the best of times. Truthfully? Only one of the two was acceptable -- and somehow, being burnt up to naught more but ash but someone who should have cared more for his descendant’s well being than some half-baked plan wasn’t really high on the list. Pain, at least, never cared for him -- and was never supposed to have. He offered the swift end of being left to rot on some hard to find plain, where those who might one day find his bones would never trouble him by calling him by name. As if he was truly Obito, anymore. As if he was anyone but a mistake anymore. For this, and for what he hoped was in earnest a genuine care for their world, he would lay bare what shitty truths he held, only to expose his throat all the more.
“To a degree I don’t care to discuss.”
This time, setting foot in these chambers was different. He’d felt it in the air upon approach. Whether or not he’d decided to speak as what remained of a human being wasn’t going to matter: the subject was going to be broached. And yet, going in, he’d had full intentions of setting aside the disgusting air of superiority prominent in his Madara guise. This meeting wasn’t going to be a battle between two opposing wills, no; this was always going to be the final blaze of a phoenix.
“But, we once again agree, though I believe you fail to see the full reason. I don’t blame you; it’s idiotically complicated, and you’ve been privy to none of it.” Further words, however, halted whatever thoughts might’ve followed, marred by the unabashed grimace Obito’s face twisted into. All of existence is hell, as it always has been -- for him, at least. Hell wasn’t meant to be comfortable. Hell was meant to scorch and burn and torment, and make discomfort sprout in the most unreasonable of places. All that..... And he had to dig for this shard of light.... All that could be done for it was light the way of others with the blaze of his agony.
“Madara is more pathetic than even you know, Nagato.” For once, true venom laced his words -- but were the glare cast anywhere but at the man to which he spoke any indication, it wasn’t exactly aimed towards Pain. “Listen to me, and for once know that my intentions lay plain. Who I am or who I was never has, nor never will matter, for these foolish games I’ve been playing at haven’t been my own -- nor did I pick Madara’s name at random. What I want.... I reiterate to the start of our conversation; I have had no machinations of my own for what feels now like ages. Kill me all you like, I really couldn’t care less. You and I both know I shall suffer in solitude for the things I have done. But know that this folly of illusion casting won’t die with me. I am no different from you in all this: a dog on a leash. You, however, might yet be able to break yours.”
Threatening though the red glow of his eye might have appeared.... It remained still all the same. For once, it was naught but an eye, barely taking in what would hopefully be its last scene. It was... Freeing, in a way. “I may be a ghost, a dead man, and a liar, but I was someone, once... Use it to your advantage while I still draw breath, or forever be left wondering the truth of it all while it clamps down around your throat." Heavy sigh left hefty pause in his thoughts, giving him time to consider his soon-to-be-killer with the weary expression of one coming to the end of his journey, glad only for the opportunity to finally rest. “I have more blood on my hands than theirs alone, you know. Among theirs is that of people who loved me, too. That I loved so much more than I can put into words. There is reason for my gloves, and my lack of words. What can be said in consolation for those that had to die for a poisoned ideal you thought was right? You may be a god among men, but that makes me the devil. Shall I show you further sins of men, o heavenly one, or are you contented at the putrid feast at your feet?”
@fallesto cont.
“Yes…”
It was only a…matter of time. Before the masked man, made his move. Before this man acted. So close to the end. It was all right there, right there for the taking. One tailed beast, one creature left to take and then…a world that was worth living within. A world of dreams. A world that knew no pain, no suffering, no war. A world that would not need people…like them within it.
“It is time to see, whose pain is greater…”
Could he kill this man. Who held so much power. Who knew so much. Who was…right about everything that had lead to this moment. Without him, would he have become the divine being he was always meant to be. Perhaps. But it mattered naught. He stood in his way now. The world had to burn. The fire nation needed to be destroyed. The cries of tens of thousands, there lives were needed, they had to die…so that millions more could know peace. So that all…fall into line and none, dare harm anyone else. War will end, for all nations will fall to there knees. Peace through fear…was still peace.
“It is time then, to see whose eyes, hold the power to change the world.”
Masks hid a whole awful lot of things -- proverbial and not! They hid who one was, what they were thinking, what they looked like..... The terribly, terribly wide grin spreading across one’s features. This visit had been different from the start, by no volition of his supposed partner. ( Pawn, pawn, yes yes, all boring to fucking tears terminology he didn’t care about. They were all pawns, all liable to die at any given heartbeat now. Some, sooner than others -- and somehow, somehow, Obito wasn’t so sure that he thought it was going to be Pain... )
Madara meant to kill him. That much, he didn’t need to be a genius to glean pretty early on. Sure, he’d lost sight of it now and then....... Often, it seemed, when it was most convenient for whatever machinations Madara had planned for his dear, sweet, precious TOOL great-grandson. BUT.... Bygones were bygones, no? Obito had destroyed everything he cared about, everything he loved, everything he ever even thought. All with his own two now never not-gloved hands. Minato and Kushina had been first at his feet -- so too would their newborn son had been, were the little bastard not so lucky. Kakashi was an eventuality he’d been thus far mildly surprised hadn’t already occurred. His morals.... HAH! What were they again? Something about reviving Madara, so he could project their dojutsu on the moon and curse the everloving fuck out of everyone? Maybe ‘do what you’re told, whelp.’ Perhaps even any of the plethora of whip-like insults Madara’s physical will had spat at him to force his heels out from the dirt and move him forward. Yes, music to his quickly deafening ears..... What did it all matter? In life, he’d been given a preparatory study guide for the real hell he lived in now in death. Obito was long dead. Madara nothing more than an act. He was nothing more than the Masked Man, throwing away any and all identity or pride away with whatever face he needed to don at any given time.
“Well good!” Practically reclining on the desk behind him, attention focused lackadaisically upon the man threatening his very existence. “I do so love it when business partners have shared interests! Killing me, that is -- I really couldn’t care less what you plan on doing with your life. Sort of personal affairs, I must think.” Shifting his weight brought him to a cross-legged sit proper, both palms flat upon its surface. Maybe, just another prod more....
“Wanna know a secret, since you’re so intent of ridding the world of me? You’re no different, you and I. Or.... Maybe we are. You got to keep you, after all!” Impish, thoughtful finger tapped upon the chin of orange painted wood. “Who was I again? Madara? No, no that’s not right at all! That sorry son of a bitch has been dead and rotting only a few decades now. Tobi? Mmm... I am feeling rather playful, but I did get rather bored of the whole ‘senpai’ nonsense. Very unbecoming, you know. That leaves..... The Masked Man, perhaps? I am masked, after all, and I won’t damn you for assuming the rest. BUT..... Wrong again! I am... Why, I am no one at all.” With one presumably final flourish, long-donned mask was shed and tossed aside, leaving a countenance no more playful than Pain’s own -- but with one, lone, glowering sharingan. “I’ll give you a hint, though.... It will not be my eyes changing this hellscape for the better. Were I not a pawn no better than you in this entirely exhausting game of chess, all my hands are capable of is death, dismay, destruction.... I am nothing more than a corpse made into a weapon. You at least... Monster too as you may be, still have some semblance of nobility to you. Keep it, while you can. The future ahead may yet strip you of it.”
shesacrified·:
Part of her was relieved to know there was still something akin to the Obito she knew back then inside of him. A smile spread across her features as she closed the distance between the two of them and gently pinched him on the arm. ❝ I’m not dead silly, and neither are you. Why would you think I was — ❞ She halted, stopping herself from finishing the question as realization spread over her. There was only one way that he would think her to be dead, and that was if he had been there that night when she had jumped in front of that enemy ninja in order to prevent the seal upon her from destroying the village. ❝ You — were you there that day? But why —? ❞ She was an endless sea of questions, but she wasn’t entirely sure how to ask them.
She studied him carefully for a moment, her gaze nothing short of caring. She couldn’t imagine what he had gone through, especially if he had witnessed what she had done, how he surely must have perceived what happened. After all, until she had woke up, people called Kakashi the friend killer.
A smile soon returned to her features as she gently grabbed his hand. ❝ How does ramen sound? There’s a nice little shop, and we can catch up over a bowl of it, my treat. ❞ She offered after a moment, deciding that perhaps it was best to change the subject for now. There would surely come a much better time and place to tell him about all of that, all of the things he had missed. ❝ I think you will really like the ramen shop. ❞ She remarked, unable to remember if they had ever gone there in their youth—if it had even been open back then.
The biggest truth among truths was that the dead always took with them more secrets than the living could fathom. Perhaps it was something as unnecessarily hushed as a longing for romantic love among a sea of friendship, or perhaps something as severe as having been involved in the criminal underbelly of the world for countless decades doing gods only knew what. Or, as was apparently now, they took with them a secret of the possibility of their survival. That day.... He had cradled her, after Kakashi left. Felt the warmth leaving her husk. The sound of approaching nin had driven him back to the shadows, sure, but.... Had that truly been enough to bring her back from the brink? Hands dart out before hers could fully retreat, snaring them in a firm but gentle grip that felt about for a pulse, a sign, something. It was there, certainly, and yet... Brows furrowed with his release. Surely... Once more his hands move, feather-light touch seeking and brushing over her face.
This was.... This was definitely Rin; he knew the contour of her face by heart, foggy as the memory had been getting up til now.
“It’s...” Uncertainty painted the crease of his brow and the drop of his hands. How was he supposed to tell her that he’d been too late? That he’d spent decades thinking Kakashi had never cared about either of them to have ignored his dying plea, and to have killed Rin rather than fighting to save her? What words would have or could have described the utter despair that had overtaken and damned him? “Not something I can tell quickly...”
Instinctively, fingers intertwined with hers. Was it really this easy...? Was she truly so willing to accept him back as if they were children again, as if he weren’t a known and convicted terrorist only just being allowed outside of the prison walls? “I don’t know if I can, Rin.” He paused, listening for the jonin pair that had dragged him out in the first place. ( Did they simply leave him here?? ) “Not that I don’t wish to,” he interjected quickly, “but I’m not terribly clear on the terms of my parole. Besides.... You won’t want to hear what I have to say.”
@shepherdofdawn continued from here.
Amegakure’s angel turns her body slightly so that her amber optics can look over his features, her lips tucked into the faintest frown as a soft palm meets his cheek, thumb brushing against the painted wood of his mask as her thick lashes flutter shut. Her other hand searches for his, and once found it’s intertwined, providing a soft squeeze to attempt to comfort him. Far as she was concerned, nothing would drive her away from him. . .not after they had grown so close.
❝…But I won’t.❞ Despite her normal firm tone, she speaks softly, almost in whispers, ❝…and I don’t believe you will.❞ Eyelids lift, resting half-open as she glances down at their hands, which are lifted so that she may press her lips to the back of his hand. It’s then she looks up, studying the mask as though she was trying to decipher it. ❝…I don’t think you’d do a thing to hurt me…not as things are now…I believe in you—even when you can’t believe in yourself…That’s never going to change.❞ A corner of her lips pulls, providing an expression pained by his state, her head tilting slightly. ❝…Things will be okay, maybe not today, or tomorrow…but they will one day. I promise.❞ The hand that rests on his cheek slowly moves to pull his mask off, though she keeps her hand still for a moment so that he could deny her silent request. If he had allowed her to take it, she’d set it aside from them before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, something that is followed up by a hug once she pulls the hand she had used to hold his away, her slender digits rubbing his back softly to comfort him.
His frame relaxed against hers, as if she were shade during the scorching summer. Though shakes wracked his body every so often, it was plain to the bare eye that her mere touch soothed where anticipation of meeting couldn’t. This was some sort of unfair to her, though -- why should she have to grab a shovel every time his pathetic spirit fell apart at its fragile seams? -- and the thought wouldn’t leave his mind. But the answer loomed daunting, far more than it should. Because she cares for you; she wishes to, she wants to see you better, part of him meekly whispered -- but the lion of his mind roared back, because you manipulated her into it. You made this situation better you at her expense, like the little leech you are. Yet.... Distant as his gaze was off and on, it stayed upon Konan’s own, diligent as a vigil.
“But..... I don’t......” Words trailed into futility; he was selfish. Cruel. He wanted nothing more than to feel better, right? Why talk her out of one of the only ways he’d discovered of getting there? Heavy, trembling sigh escaped his lungs in a drawn out puff. All of this, roiling up like a venom eating its way from wound to heart.... Were they truly his own thoughts? Perhaps, more importantly.... Could he even tell anymore? Silence fell over him, blanketing his shoulders like a shroud while the words she bestowed upon him settled in. They were.... Not meant for a wretch such as he; too soft, too kind. But... They warmed him, spirit, mind, and soul. Whatever stupid things he’d said to her -- and they were likely to have been incredibly stupid -- he’d earned her undying trust. Was that truly so awful? He’d never once lied to her, once she saw beneath “Madara.” Wasn’t that some kind of virtue?
Her hands reached for his mask -- and, truthfully, a part of him begged for the burden of it to be gone. He wasn’t Madara. This wasn’t a scheme, or a ploy, or any other fashion of manipulation. He was but a man, prostrate with Atlas’ burden of grief nailed to his quivering spine, reaching out to another soul for help, or perhaps more simply for mere comfort. I am here, alive; please gods, see me. So neither muscle nor eye flinched; instead, he rather leaned into her just so, as a non-spoken encouragement.
“I love you,” he mumbled, half-subdued in her arms and nestled as close as he could get. “I love you... And I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t know if.... If I can trust that my mind is my own...”
Depression
" I wont ever give up on you. " From Konan :')
Schrodinger's Meme ;; Send things if you want @cryptskept
Fresh tear trails carved down cheeks blessed by the first monsoon in decades directed the path of the unrelenting flood cascading from bloodshot eyes. Each time he remembered, each time his consciousness perched back upon its fragile hold in his skull, it pushed out more and more of his sanity. The things it brought with it every time.... Most were memories, he was sure of it, but others? By the Kami, there wasn't enough hope in the heavens that they weren't things he himself had truly done. But as awful as they all were? The churning pit of his stomach nearly promised that they were.
How long had it been, since he'd dragged himself in out of the rain to their usual place? Days? Weeks? Hours? It.... Couldn't have been long; Konan never took terribly long to arrive -- but to speak with any certainty was to claim his present tailspin wasn't occurring. Minutes passing saw him shift slowly from leaned against the wall to slumped down to the floor, to gripping raven locks in a grip that threatened to pull them out in one fell swoop.
The memories weren't real. None of this was real. This was all hell.
When Konan had appeared, or whether she'd spoken to him ( surely she had ), he had no knowledge; the world outside his burning house trembled in the wake of its smoke. It was her touch, gentle and concerned, that put a lead on his runaway mind and brought it back. Shaking hands released their vice upon his hair to transfer instead to a desperate cling to her -- an angel, he had no doubt.
"You should," he finally croaked, resting his head against her shoulder. "I'll.... I'll either turn on you.... Or I'll turn on Madara....... Which is any... Anyone's guess...."