Bingo, Prompt: Jaken "Creep"
Songfic written for inusongfics
Prompt: Jaken
Song: Creep by Radiohead
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fucking special
Say what you want about me, but I am fully capable of recognizing beauty when I see it, regardless of gender or social stigmas. I know what people say. I know what they whisper, but when they are faced with the utter perfection that is Sesshoumaru-sama they can’t blame for me for wanting to follow him to the ends of the earth.
His strength radiates from him like a palpable aura. You don’t see him walking through a forest and wonder if he notices you or if he could destroy you in an instant. You see him walking through the forest and you know he is very much aware of whom you are, how strong you are, and should you give him reason he will destroy you in an instant. One second you will be watching this angel of perfection make his way through the trees and the next you will cease to exist.
So can I be blamed if I want to serve this man instead of become like so many others who have fallen to his blade or his claws? Am I to be ridiculed because I wish to stare at his porcelain white skin as we travel through the world?
He is a demon. I know this. I would have been an idiot not to have noticed. Humans do not possess skin as hard and cold as ice. Humans do not have flowing tresses of spun silver cascading down their backs in a smooth and steady waterfall. Humans do not have golden eyes that look into your soul and judge your worth without him having to say a word. Even with an arm missing as he is now, there is no mistaking the grace and regal way with which he hold himself. Humans can be arrogant, true, but only a demon such as him can be arrogant and back it up.
I, on the other hand, am an imp. I don’t have great strength or immense intelligence that can only come from centuries of watching life pass you by. I am not tall and graceful, willow thin beneath my robes of state. When I speak I have to shout to be heard. I can’t merely glance at someone to get their attention and then speak in a deep but soft voice and expect to have them listen to me or tremble in fear as the case may be.
I am shorter than even a human child. I am wider than I would like to be. I have minimal magics and those magics tend not to do enough damage to finish off anything of substance. I am loud and unrefined from a life of barely managing to scrape by. I am nothing more than an annoyance to most and I am only tolerated by my peers because of the demon I choose to serve.
Quite simply put, I am a nobody and a nothing. If you speak the name Jaken children do not run in fear or clutch tight to their mothers. If you were to point me out making my way through the forest, assuming there are no medium sized bushes about for me to be concealed by, you would stop what you were doing, point, and have a good laugh at my expense. Don’t spare my feelings, I know how it is.
But when I am with him people don’t do that for the most part. They part to get out of my way… Out of our way. They move reverently past because they do not wish to be in the way. Sometimes I think that maybe I’ve had it wrong all this time. Maybe he isn’t just a demon.
Maybe he’s an angel.
And if he’s an angel then I am nothing more than the creep that contributes nothing more than my babysitting services from time to time.
But even that is enough.
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here
I do not know why he allows me to follow him. I know that there have been times when my crass nature has caused him brief embarrassment. I know that there have been times in which I have grated on his nerves and he had never once waited for me should I fall behind.
There must be some reason, though. He is not the man to abide by the foolishness of others. He would rather end anything and everything that irks him from the get go rather than attempt to find some patience deep in a heart that does not know the meaning of the word. Someday I will get up the courage to ask him why he played our little game for so long when it was painfully obvious I was more in the way than anything else. I will look up at him from my deathbed and he will still be perfect and I will ask him what it was the he saw in me.
He won’t answer me. I will go to the dark pits of hell still wondering, but that’s fine by me. I know I don’t belong in his world, but if can stay here for even a short time it will be worth all the suffering that not knowing causes.
Delusion really is a beautiful thing…
I don't care if it hurts
I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul
I want you to notice when I'm not around
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special
We have been all over the entirety of Japan in our time together. From the frozen north to the burning south I have followed him with a determination born of all the things I have longed for since I was a young imp just learning the ways of the world. It had always been my dream to grow big and strong. I had wanted people to look at me and know that I was someone to be relied upon, someone they could trust to get the job done, but that was not to be.
Perhaps it was because, even for an imp, I was not exactly the prime specimen of beauty. My skin is rough and an unsavory shade of green. My eyes bulge out of my head in a manner that always makes me look surprised or as though I am about to burst into tears. I hunch over a bit so that my diminutive height is made even less by the way I carry myself.
When I was a youngling I stole a vat of white paint from the city. I ran as fast as I could with my burden until I made it far enough away that I didn’t think the humans would continue their chase. Then I took off all my clothing and I jumped in without a second thought.
It took hours for the paint to dry enough so that I could put my clothes back on again and when I returned to the village in which my family was taking refuge they were beside themselves with worry. I brushed aside their concerns as I strutted about the village with my new skin color in the hopes that they would be impressed. No longer was a green scaly thing to be spit upon. Now I was as white as the human princesses, my scales covered up by the thick layer of paint. For a small moment in time I was a king.
But then something strange happened.
It was a hot day as it was and I had been sweating underneath the paint as I had stood for two long hours waiting for it to stop dripping. I didn’t notice it at first, but there were hairline cracks appearing in the rapidly hardening paint. It wasn’t until the first large flake broke off in my hand when I went to brush a smudge of dirt off my face that I realized something I should have known all along.
I hid for the rest of the day, ashamed to show my face as the new skin I had so carefully crafted for myself fell around me. The shell I had created fell apart so easily and it was in this moment that I knew I was never going to grow up to be what I had always wanted to be.
So much time has passed since that day, and I have changed more on the inside than the outside. I try my hardest to make myself useful to Sesshoumaru-sama. I do everything I can to make sure that when I get left behind he notices and waits for me, but that day has yet to come.
My self-importance has taken the place of the shell of white I once wrapped myself in, and yet it is just as fragile. There are only so many times I can bounce back after being rejected, and I know that someday I will reach my limit. I dread that day the way some people dread their deaths because, in a way, for me the loss of myself is the only death that matters.
Is it too much to ask for to just be respected?
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell I'm doing here?
I don't belong here
The battles have gotten fiercer since I took those first steps on this journey. There are more enemies than I could have ever imagined waiting for us in the shadows and I find that I am being relegated to babysitting duty more and more often.
I don’t know what it was that moved him to take on another charge, and a young human girl to boot, but he did and there was to be no arguing with him. You don’t argue with the angels when they choose to bring tragedy upon your life after all. There is only to be acceptance and you are to be left with picking up the pieces and moving on.
I could see why he wouldn’t want her close to the many battle fields we have started to find ourselves on. In the heat of a conflict one can lose sight of what one has set out to protect very easily and a human child cannot be expected to know what to do if the eyes of her protector’s enemies fall upon her. She cannot even raise a fist to defend herself, though the gods know she would try.
Not once have I ever been an asset on the field of battle. Not once have I been able to stand beside my lord and master and take up the slack in the way a servant of his should be able to. I am living in a world that continues to pass me by and the only thing I can do is cower under a rock and pray that by some miracle I can make it out alive. And once I have used my miracle and I am safe in the knowledge that I will get to see the sun rise in the morning I am left to get my feet back under me and to run after my lord as fast as I can or else I will be left behind.
I don’t belong in this world of demons and power struggles, but I have been removed from my previous life for so long that I don’t even know where my family is or if they would even want me back. I have been chasing this wisp of a dream for far longer than I should have and now I don’t have a place anywhere.
And then Rin takes my hand and sings a song she made up herself about the sun and the moon and the way they dance at night while everyone is sleeping and there is no one to witness their forbidden love, and I feel as though everything is going to be okay.
But how can it be when I am nothing more than a cheap imitation of the creature I so desperately want to be?
She's running out again
She's running out
She runs, runs, runs
Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special
He goes ahead of us now most days; commanding the two of us to stay back. Making sure that we don’t run after him like we usually do. Maybe he’s trying to protect us. Maybe we are finally drawing close to the day when he will decide that he is through with us once and for all. With him you never know what he’s thinking unless he wants you to know.
But I still listen to him. I still carry out his every command with the same all-encompassing pride I usually have. I still get tears in my eyes when he addresses me as though my opinion matters, even though I know by the time I am done giving my speech he will have his back turned and his mind on other things.
Some people have said that I am in love with him, that my idolatry goes far beyond a master/servant relationship into something more grotesque. I laugh at these people because they do not know the first thing about me.
I suppose you could say that I love Sesshoumaru-sama in a way. He does protect me. He does feed me and clothe me and every once in a blue moon he will wait for me and allow me to rest. I respect him for this and I would give up my life for him, but as far as love goes, I don’t think that’s what I would call it.
He is beautiful, but he is cold. He is a genius, but he is blind to the feelings of others. He is strong, but he will not slow in his journey to see those beneath him who rely on him to make the right decisions so that they may live in peace.
He is an angel, but he is also a devil with a mood as fickle as the wind.
There will never be another like him in this world or in the next. His is an enigma and frightening simple all at the same time. He is something that will never be replicated no matter how hard humanity would try and once he is gone he will be gone for good.
In that way he is special.
As for me… Well, there are millions like me in this world right now. Humans, demons, imps, and whatever else you can imagine are all like me. They are ugly, short, fat, dumb, and all the negative words that have been invented in all the languages of the world. There are and will continue to be humans who have eyes spaced too far apart with greasy skin and tangled hair. There are demons who wear the twisted mask of nightmare even though they are gentle on the inside. There will always be that one person who will dedicate their lives to a specific cause because to not have something to live for means living a life in the background.
In this way I am nothing special.
And yet I wouldn’t have it any other way.
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here
I don't belong here
Prompt: Jaken
Song: Creep by Radiohead
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fucking special
Say what you want about me, but I am fully capable of recognizing beauty when I see it, regardless of gender or social stigmas. I know what people say. I know what they whisper, but when they are faced with the utter perfection that is Sesshoumaru-sama they can’t blame for me for wanting to follow him to the ends of the earth.
His strength radiates from him like a palpable aura. You don’t see him walking through a forest and wonder if he notices you or if he could destroy you in an instant. You see him walking through the forest and you know he is very much aware of whom you are, how strong you are, and should you give him reason he will destroy you in an instant. One second you will be watching this angel of perfection make his way through the trees and the next you will cease to exist.
So can I be blamed if I want to serve this man instead of become like so many others who have fallen to his blade or his claws? Am I to be ridiculed because I wish to stare at his porcelain white skin as we travel through the world?
He is a demon. I know this. I would have been an idiot not to have noticed. Humans do not possess skin as hard and cold as ice. Humans do not have flowing tresses of spun silver cascading down their backs in a smooth and steady waterfall. Humans do not have golden eyes that look into your soul and judge your worth without him having to say a word. Even with an arm missing as he is now, there is no mistaking the grace and regal way with which he hold himself. Humans can be arrogant, true, but only a demon such as him can be arrogant and back it up.
I, on the other hand, am an imp. I don’t have great strength or immense intelligence that can only come from centuries of watching life pass you by. I am not tall and graceful, willow thin beneath my robes of state. When I speak I have to shout to be heard. I can’t merely glance at someone to get their attention and then speak in a deep but soft voice and expect to have them listen to me or tremble in fear as the case may be.
I am shorter than even a human child. I am wider than I would like to be. I have minimal magics and those magics tend not to do enough damage to finish off anything of substance. I am loud and unrefined from a life of barely managing to scrape by. I am nothing more than an annoyance to most and I am only tolerated by my peers because of the demon I choose to serve.
Quite simply put, I am a nobody and a nothing. If you speak the name Jaken children do not run in fear or clutch tight to their mothers. If you were to point me out making my way through the forest, assuming there are no medium sized bushes about for me to be concealed by, you would stop what you were doing, point, and have a good laugh at my expense. Don’t spare my feelings, I know how it is.
But when I am with him people don’t do that for the most part. They part to get out of my way… Out of our way. They move reverently past because they do not wish to be in the way. Sometimes I think that maybe I’ve had it wrong all this time. Maybe he isn’t just a demon.
Maybe he’s an angel.
And if he’s an angel then I am nothing more than the creep that contributes nothing more than my babysitting services from time to time.
But even that is enough.
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here
I do not know why he allows me to follow him. I know that there have been times when my crass nature has caused him brief embarrassment. I know that there have been times in which I have grated on his nerves and he had never once waited for me should I fall behind.
There must be some reason, though. He is not the man to abide by the foolishness of others. He would rather end anything and everything that irks him from the get go rather than attempt to find some patience deep in a heart that does not know the meaning of the word. Someday I will get up the courage to ask him why he played our little game for so long when it was painfully obvious I was more in the way than anything else. I will look up at him from my deathbed and he will still be perfect and I will ask him what it was the he saw in me.
He won’t answer me. I will go to the dark pits of hell still wondering, but that’s fine by me. I know I don’t belong in his world, but if can stay here for even a short time it will be worth all the suffering that not knowing causes.
Delusion really is a beautiful thing…
I don't care if it hurts
I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul
I want you to notice when I'm not around
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special
We have been all over the entirety of Japan in our time together. From the frozen north to the burning south I have followed him with a determination born of all the things I have longed for since I was a young imp just learning the ways of the world. It had always been my dream to grow big and strong. I had wanted people to look at me and know that I was someone to be relied upon, someone they could trust to get the job done, but that was not to be.
Perhaps it was because, even for an imp, I was not exactly the prime specimen of beauty. My skin is rough and an unsavory shade of green. My eyes bulge out of my head in a manner that always makes me look surprised or as though I am about to burst into tears. I hunch over a bit so that my diminutive height is made even less by the way I carry myself.
When I was a youngling I stole a vat of white paint from the city. I ran as fast as I could with my burden until I made it far enough away that I didn’t think the humans would continue their chase. Then I took off all my clothing and I jumped in without a second thought.
It took hours for the paint to dry enough so that I could put my clothes back on again and when I returned to the village in which my family was taking refuge they were beside themselves with worry. I brushed aside their concerns as I strutted about the village with my new skin color in the hopes that they would be impressed. No longer was a green scaly thing to be spit upon. Now I was as white as the human princesses, my scales covered up by the thick layer of paint. For a small moment in time I was a king.
But then something strange happened.
It was a hot day as it was and I had been sweating underneath the paint as I had stood for two long hours waiting for it to stop dripping. I didn’t notice it at first, but there were hairline cracks appearing in the rapidly hardening paint. It wasn’t until the first large flake broke off in my hand when I went to brush a smudge of dirt off my face that I realized something I should have known all along.
I hid for the rest of the day, ashamed to show my face as the new skin I had so carefully crafted for myself fell around me. The shell I had created fell apart so easily and it was in this moment that I knew I was never going to grow up to be what I had always wanted to be.
So much time has passed since that day, and I have changed more on the inside than the outside. I try my hardest to make myself useful to Sesshoumaru-sama. I do everything I can to make sure that when I get left behind he notices and waits for me, but that day has yet to come.
My self-importance has taken the place of the shell of white I once wrapped myself in, and yet it is just as fragile. There are only so many times I can bounce back after being rejected, and I know that someday I will reach my limit. I dread that day the way some people dread their deaths because, in a way, for me the loss of myself is the only death that matters.
Is it too much to ask for to just be respected?
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell I'm doing here?
I don't belong here
The battles have gotten fiercer since I took those first steps on this journey. There are more enemies than I could have ever imagined waiting for us in the shadows and I find that I am being relegated to babysitting duty more and more often.
I don’t know what it was that moved him to take on another charge, and a young human girl to boot, but he did and there was to be no arguing with him. You don’t argue with the angels when they choose to bring tragedy upon your life after all. There is only to be acceptance and you are to be left with picking up the pieces and moving on.
I could see why he wouldn’t want her close to the many battle fields we have started to find ourselves on. In the heat of a conflict one can lose sight of what one has set out to protect very easily and a human child cannot be expected to know what to do if the eyes of her protector’s enemies fall upon her. She cannot even raise a fist to defend herself, though the gods know she would try.
Not once have I ever been an asset on the field of battle. Not once have I been able to stand beside my lord and master and take up the slack in the way a servant of his should be able to. I am living in a world that continues to pass me by and the only thing I can do is cower under a rock and pray that by some miracle I can make it out alive. And once I have used my miracle and I am safe in the knowledge that I will get to see the sun rise in the morning I am left to get my feet back under me and to run after my lord as fast as I can or else I will be left behind.
I don’t belong in this world of demons and power struggles, but I have been removed from my previous life for so long that I don’t even know where my family is or if they would even want me back. I have been chasing this wisp of a dream for far longer than I should have and now I don’t have a place anywhere.
And then Rin takes my hand and sings a song she made up herself about the sun and the moon and the way they dance at night while everyone is sleeping and there is no one to witness their forbidden love, and I feel as though everything is going to be okay.
But how can it be when I am nothing more than a cheap imitation of the creature I so desperately want to be?
She's running out again
She's running out
She runs, runs, runs
Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special
He goes ahead of us now most days; commanding the two of us to stay back. Making sure that we don’t run after him like we usually do. Maybe he’s trying to protect us. Maybe we are finally drawing close to the day when he will decide that he is through with us once and for all. With him you never know what he’s thinking unless he wants you to know.
But I still listen to him. I still carry out his every command with the same all-encompassing pride I usually have. I still get tears in my eyes when he addresses me as though my opinion matters, even though I know by the time I am done giving my speech he will have his back turned and his mind on other things.
Some people have said that I am in love with him, that my idolatry goes far beyond a master/servant relationship into something more grotesque. I laugh at these people because they do not know the first thing about me.
I suppose you could say that I love Sesshoumaru-sama in a way. He does protect me. He does feed me and clothe me and every once in a blue moon he will wait for me and allow me to rest. I respect him for this and I would give up my life for him, but as far as love goes, I don’t think that’s what I would call it.
He is beautiful, but he is cold. He is a genius, but he is blind to the feelings of others. He is strong, but he will not slow in his journey to see those beneath him who rely on him to make the right decisions so that they may live in peace.
He is an angel, but he is also a devil with a mood as fickle as the wind.
There will never be another like him in this world or in the next. His is an enigma and frightening simple all at the same time. He is something that will never be replicated no matter how hard humanity would try and once he is gone he will be gone for good.
In that way he is special.
As for me… Well, there are millions like me in this world right now. Humans, demons, imps, and whatever else you can imagine are all like me. They are ugly, short, fat, dumb, and all the negative words that have been invented in all the languages of the world. There are and will continue to be humans who have eyes spaced too far apart with greasy skin and tangled hair. There are demons who wear the twisted mask of nightmare even though they are gentle on the inside. There will always be that one person who will dedicate their lives to a specific cause because to not have something to live for means living a life in the background.
In this way I am nothing special.
And yet I wouldn’t have it any other way.
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here
I don't belong here