Hidan fic: Dogma
A story of life in the fast lane.
Hidan isn’t open to change.
The pattern of his existence is well established, something that works and one which he is profoundly entrenched in maintaining. He might break but just like his body heals, his mind does too, his soul does too - ends up right back in the state it began with. A journey back to the start. His resistance to change is actually quite remarkable; he doesn’t learn easily, isn’t open to it. His mind is closed to a different view much to the chagrin of his partner, who is constantly assimilating life experience- learning, amassing knowledge, like power, like money.
The violence of his existence, the exigency of it, the compelling striving forward without looking back. Surrounded by the frenetic energy of constant adrenaline rush and the vivid experiences of the moment drowns out the prospects of his life. The daunting task of staring down eternity. That reality is more than enough to break him entirely. So he hangs on, holds out, digs in his teeth and hands and weapons. Rips and tears and claws his way through it, a wake of slaughter following in his bloody footprints. He has a death grip on life.
A/N Something a bit melancholy perhaps. This can be read as part of the 'Chosen' series, a side bit. See that timestamp? Why do my ideas seem to be born in the early hours...ugh. Hope you like! X-posted to kakuhidan
Hidan isn’t open to change.
The pattern of his existence is well established, something that works and one which he is profoundly entrenched in maintaining. He might break but just like his body heals, his mind does too, his soul does too - ends up right back in the state it began with. A journey back to the start. His resistance to change is actually quite remarkable; he doesn’t learn easily, isn’t open to it. His mind is closed to a different view much to the chagrin of his partner, who is constantly assimilating life experience- learning, amassing knowledge, like power, like money.
The violence of his existence, the exigency of it, the compelling striving forward without looking back. Surrounded by the frenetic energy of constant adrenaline rush and the vivid experiences of the moment drowns out the prospects of his life. The daunting task of staring down eternity. That reality is more than enough to break him entirely. So he hangs on, holds out, digs in his teeth and hands and weapons. Rips and tears and claws his way through it, a wake of slaughter following in his bloody footprints. He has a death grip on life.
A/N Something a bit melancholy perhaps. This can be read as part of the 'Chosen' series, a side bit. See that timestamp? Why do my ideas seem to be born in the early hours...ugh. Hope you like! X-posted to kakuhidan