defeminized (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
defeminized) wrote2011-10-29 08:10 pm
defeminized) wrote2011-10-29 08:10 pm
Entry tags:
Broken Open - Bemu/Natsume
Title: Broken Open
Wordcount: 1813
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Bemu/Natsume (of Youkai Ningen Bemu)
Warning: Spoilers up to episode 2 of Youkai Ningen Bemu.
Note: New OTP! Title taken (because I’m super lazy and super uncreative) from an Adam Lambert song. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pinkeuphoria1 for betaing.
Summary: Bemu wants Natsume to see his ~real face~.
-
Bemu isn’t surprised when Natsume tells him that he was suspicious of him because after all, how could he not be? By now, Bemu has gotten used to being suspected by everyone. It was Bera’s words and not his, because if it were up to him, he would like to think that it was only him who has difficulties gaining trust from the humans. Bera’s really cynical, but Bemu chooses to think that that Bera’s just being objective and painfully blunt.
What does surprise him, however, is that Natsume is showing him complete trust barely minutes after declaring that he was suspicious of Bemu. Are humans really this prone to changing their minds?
Maybe the rain’s clouding his judgment, maybe it isn’t. Maybe the short display of kindness is affecting him more than it should be, maybe it isn’t.
Whatever it is, Bemu decides that Natsume’s really special.
He stares blankly at the surface of the river, listening to Bera and Berro chatting, thinking of Natsume’s eyes.
Those eyes, glinting from their corners, waving him goodbye.
Those eyes, shrouded with fear in its purest form, sending him away.
He wonders which he would see when Natsume sees him, the him that even he hates to see.
Bera often says that she would like to love, maybe someday in the future. Bemu’s really surprised by that, but he smiles anyway each time Bera tells him that.
When he gets to observe humans, he likes to watch those who are in love. The old man cycling and his similarly aging wife riding on the backseat. The young man with too many piercings and unnatural hair colour and the pretty girl he’s holding hands with. The salaryman in a suit and his wife who brings the bento lunch to him.
He envisions a cloud wrapping these people, making them untouchable to external factors. He likes to look at them and see the way they unconsciously fade away from the crowd.
“What are you looking at?” asks Bera, who is tapping on his shoulder.
Bemu adjusts his hat. “People.”
“Hmmm.”
“What is it?”
Bera pauses for a while before answering. “We don’t really refer to them as ‘people’, do we?”
Right, Bemu thinks. ‘People’ and ‘Humans’. Don’t they refer to the same thing?
Maybe they don’t. At least not from the way they, Bemu, Bera and Berro, should see it.
It’s a good thing that Natsume’s not making any connection between Bemu and his monster. This way, he still gets to see Natsume smile at him.
Something still cuts inside him whenever he hears Natsume say anything about the despicable-looking monster that sometimes appear in front of him. It hurts Bemu when Natsume talks about the monster, the part of Bemu Natsume doesn’t recognise.
Little by little, it’s beginning to be a part of Bemu that Bemu doesn’t want to recognise either.
He wonders how long it will be before Natsume adds the two and two together and starts realising that the monster and Bemu are the same entity.
The next time he transforms, Bemu doesn’t immediately revert to his human form.
He glares at the mirror and curses everything silently. His existence, the mirror, the pain in his chest, and himself.
A tear drops to his hand, but he’s too busy bleeding from his knuckles and watching the wounds healing itself to see that a fraction of his skin is turning from black to brown.
In his ideal world, Natsume will be slipping his clothes away from his body and he won’t jump away from the sight of his scaly arms. Bemu will be touching his face, and Natsume will touch his skin, that ugly, roughly textured skin, and not say a word about how it’s not the same as his. How it’s not normal.
In reality, Natsume’s taking his hand in his and pulling Bemu to his chest. There’s no unadulterated contact between them, but Natsume might have as well stripped Bemu bare because it’s what it feels like right now. Everything that Bemu holds dear, it’s shattering into a million pieces.
Natsume’s not drunk, not unconscious, and not spell-bound. Bemu doesn’t know how this simple gesture is making his reality better than his ideal.
“Bemu-san,” Natsume tries to say after a prolonged period of awkward silence. “I don’t know-“
“Stay this way,” Bemu says.
There’s a stinging pain inside his chest. A burning, stinging pain inflaming his body. For some reason, he doesn’t want it to go away.
“Please.”
Bera tells him that he should be clear to himself.
“What do you want from him?”
Bemu doesn’t know.
It is happening fast; just one second ago, he was looking at him wearing the usual lopsided grin and now he’s sneaking under Bemu’s hat to be barely a breath away from his lips.
Bemu instinctively closes his eyes and holds Natsume tighter because he feels like he’s floating away. Natsume tastes like alcohol and smoke, and after some time, he’s starting to taste a little like chocolate too.
‘When the going gets tough, chocolate tastes the best.’
“Bemu-san?” is the first thing Natsume says, his thumb gently wiping the teardrop falling from his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Bemu usually holds himself back from crying. He doesn’t like crying, it makes him feel powerless.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Bemu pulls him back for another kiss.
“You’re not.”
He’s lying. If his heart could transform, he’s sure that there are cracks forming on it with every second he has Natsume’s lips on his.
“Be~mu!” Berro sings. He’s plucking the overgrown grasses from the ground in bulk, apparently trying to create something that will look like a bouquet of flowers.
He grins at Bemu. “Do you think Yui-chan will like this?”
It’s an ugly bunch, but Bemu nods anyway. “She will.”
Bemu wishes that his heart was as easy to present as Berro’s bouquet of ugly flowers. At least when they fall, Bemu will be able to pick the pieces from the ground.
Bemu likes to look at Natsume from a distance.
The bumbling, clumsy Natsume who never fails to notice the second step on the staircase with a bump that he always forgets to avoid. The bubbly, bouncy Natsume who drops his pile of paperwork everytime he gets tapped from the back. The happy, approachable Natsume whom his colleagues love because he helps them when they are desperate to leave the office early. The loving, gentle Natsume who asks everyone to take care on their way home because it’s going to rain soon.
Bemu likes everything about Natsume.
He waits for Bera to ask “what do you want from him” again, because he thinks that he has the answer to it now.
She never does.
“To tell you the truth,” Natsume says, scratching his head, “I think I’m kinda stalking you.”
Bemu looks at him. He doesn’t know what to say or how to react.
“I--I’m really sorry about that, seriously,” he stutters. “I never meant to appear that way, but it’s probably just part of me being a detective and all.”
Bemu watches him as he heaves a sigh of anxiety.
“I should stop making excuses, shouldn’t I? I am just a creepy old man no matter where I go.”
“No,” Bemu whispers. “I’m glad you did.”
“Really?” Natsume asks, eyes looking earnestly relieved.
“Yes.”
In his dreams, Natsume will be touching the unsightly bumps on his forehead, those hideous scars on his bodies and ugly scales on his forearms. He will let his hair down, hat off, and clothes away to let Natsume see him, the real him. He usually stops at this stage, because he doesn’t want to hope that they can get past this.
In reality, Natsume’s trying to trace his fingers on Bemu’s neck and slip his hand inside his shirt to his collarbone and Bemu pushes him away.
Natsume looks hurt.
It’s the same face that appears in his dreams when Natsume sees him in his skin.
When Bemu sleeps that night, Natsume’s hurt expression haunts him. He tries his best not to crack everytime Natsume’s apologetic words resound in his mind.
“I want him to see the real me,” Bemu declares to Bera. She merely nods.
Natsume comes to the wharf to catch fishes one day.
“But this time it’s not because Yui needs it,” he says quietly, like he’s almost embarrassed to have said it.
Bemu sits down next to him anyway.
“I just want to see you.”
There’s a hand sneaking on top of Bemu’s.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises. By this time, Bemu has lost count of how many apologies he has heard from Natsume.
“Don’t be,” Bemu says, pushing his hand into Natsume’s.
“Do you want me to leave you?”
Something inside Bemu constricts upon hearing this. “No.”
“Then, don’t push me away.”
Bemu turns to look at Natsume.
“Whatever I do, don’t push me away.”
Berro wants to make a wig from leaves this time, and Bemu joins him.
“Look at me!” he exclaims, fastening the so-called wig around his face. “Don’t I look very much like a tiger?”
Bemu smiles.
“I know this is a little too late to say,” Natsume says in between kisses. “But I like you, Bemu-san.”
There are tears falling onto Bemu’s arm and creating temporary circles from the humanising effect of human tears, but Bemu’s too busy trying to alleviate the addictive pain in his chest to realise that the tears are from his eyes.
“If it hurts, don’t do it,” Bera warns.
“But if it’s going to hurt, I want to know how it feels like,” Bemu says.
He doesn’t want to, but it’s the only way.
“Natsume-san,” he calls when Natsume pays another visit to the wharf.
“Hi, I need to er, catch a squid this time,” Natsume says, laughing awkwardly, scratching his head like he always does. “And I sort of wanted to see you too,” he adds, flushing from his cheeks.
“I want to see you too,” Bemu says. He holds out his hand for Natsume to grab on, and pulls him close.
“Bemu-san?”
“I want to let you see the real me.”
“What?”
“Whatever I do, don’t push me away.”
Their eyes meet and Bemu’s anxiety intensifies.
“I won’t.”
In his dreams, Natsume will be patting his skin gently, running his fingers all over his scars, scales and bumpy horns.
In reality, Natsume is slightly petrified at the sight of his skin. But he touches him nevertheless.
“You saved me,” he says.
Bemu is naked, but he feels clothed with warmth at these words.
“It was you, it was always you.”
Natsume cups Bemu’s face in his palm, and Bemu’s screaming inside, desperate for him not to push him away.
He doesn’t.
-
Wordcount: 1813
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Bemu/Natsume (of Youkai Ningen Bemu)
Warning: Spoilers up to episode 2 of Youkai Ningen Bemu.
Note: New OTP! Title taken (because I’m super lazy and super uncreative) from an Adam Lambert song. Thanks to
pinkeuphoria1 for betaing.Summary: Bemu wants Natsume to see his ~real face~.
-
Bemu isn’t surprised when Natsume tells him that he was suspicious of him because after all, how could he not be? By now, Bemu has gotten used to being suspected by everyone. It was Bera’s words and not his, because if it were up to him, he would like to think that it was only him who has difficulties gaining trust from the humans. Bera’s really cynical, but Bemu chooses to think that that Bera’s just being objective and painfully blunt.
What does surprise him, however, is that Natsume is showing him complete trust barely minutes after declaring that he was suspicious of Bemu. Are humans really this prone to changing their minds?
Maybe the rain’s clouding his judgment, maybe it isn’t. Maybe the short display of kindness is affecting him more than it should be, maybe it isn’t.
Whatever it is, Bemu decides that Natsume’s really special.
He stares blankly at the surface of the river, listening to Bera and Berro chatting, thinking of Natsume’s eyes.
Those eyes, glinting from their corners, waving him goodbye.
Those eyes, shrouded with fear in its purest form, sending him away.
He wonders which he would see when Natsume sees him, the him that even he hates to see.
Bera often says that she would like to love, maybe someday in the future. Bemu’s really surprised by that, but he smiles anyway each time Bera tells him that.
When he gets to observe humans, he likes to watch those who are in love. The old man cycling and his similarly aging wife riding on the backseat. The young man with too many piercings and unnatural hair colour and the pretty girl he’s holding hands with. The salaryman in a suit and his wife who brings the bento lunch to him.
He envisions a cloud wrapping these people, making them untouchable to external factors. He likes to look at them and see the way they unconsciously fade away from the crowd.
“What are you looking at?” asks Bera, who is tapping on his shoulder.
Bemu adjusts his hat. “People.”
“Hmmm.”
“What is it?”
Bera pauses for a while before answering. “We don’t really refer to them as ‘people’, do we?”
Right, Bemu thinks. ‘People’ and ‘Humans’. Don’t they refer to the same thing?
Maybe they don’t. At least not from the way they, Bemu, Bera and Berro, should see it.
It’s a good thing that Natsume’s not making any connection between Bemu and his monster. This way, he still gets to see Natsume smile at him.
Something still cuts inside him whenever he hears Natsume say anything about the despicable-looking monster that sometimes appear in front of him. It hurts Bemu when Natsume talks about the monster, the part of Bemu Natsume doesn’t recognise.
Little by little, it’s beginning to be a part of Bemu that Bemu doesn’t want to recognise either.
He wonders how long it will be before Natsume adds the two and two together and starts realising that the monster and Bemu are the same entity.
The next time he transforms, Bemu doesn’t immediately revert to his human form.
He glares at the mirror and curses everything silently. His existence, the mirror, the pain in his chest, and himself.
A tear drops to his hand, but he’s too busy bleeding from his knuckles and watching the wounds healing itself to see that a fraction of his skin is turning from black to brown.
In his ideal world, Natsume will be slipping his clothes away from his body and he won’t jump away from the sight of his scaly arms. Bemu will be touching his face, and Natsume will touch his skin, that ugly, roughly textured skin, and not say a word about how it’s not the same as his. How it’s not normal.
In reality, Natsume’s taking his hand in his and pulling Bemu to his chest. There’s no unadulterated contact between them, but Natsume might have as well stripped Bemu bare because it’s what it feels like right now. Everything that Bemu holds dear, it’s shattering into a million pieces.
Natsume’s not drunk, not unconscious, and not spell-bound. Bemu doesn’t know how this simple gesture is making his reality better than his ideal.
“Bemu-san,” Natsume tries to say after a prolonged period of awkward silence. “I don’t know-“
“Stay this way,” Bemu says.
There’s a stinging pain inside his chest. A burning, stinging pain inflaming his body. For some reason, he doesn’t want it to go away.
“Please.”
Bera tells him that he should be clear to himself.
“What do you want from him?”
Bemu doesn’t know.
It is happening fast; just one second ago, he was looking at him wearing the usual lopsided grin and now he’s sneaking under Bemu’s hat to be barely a breath away from his lips.
Bemu instinctively closes his eyes and holds Natsume tighter because he feels like he’s floating away. Natsume tastes like alcohol and smoke, and after some time, he’s starting to taste a little like chocolate too.
‘When the going gets tough, chocolate tastes the best.’
“Bemu-san?” is the first thing Natsume says, his thumb gently wiping the teardrop falling from his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Bemu usually holds himself back from crying. He doesn’t like crying, it makes him feel powerless.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Bemu pulls him back for another kiss.
“You’re not.”
He’s lying. If his heart could transform, he’s sure that there are cracks forming on it with every second he has Natsume’s lips on his.
“Be~mu!” Berro sings. He’s plucking the overgrown grasses from the ground in bulk, apparently trying to create something that will look like a bouquet of flowers.
He grins at Bemu. “Do you think Yui-chan will like this?”
It’s an ugly bunch, but Bemu nods anyway. “She will.”
Bemu wishes that his heart was as easy to present as Berro’s bouquet of ugly flowers. At least when they fall, Bemu will be able to pick the pieces from the ground.
Bemu likes to look at Natsume from a distance.
The bumbling, clumsy Natsume who never fails to notice the second step on the staircase with a bump that he always forgets to avoid. The bubbly, bouncy Natsume who drops his pile of paperwork everytime he gets tapped from the back. The happy, approachable Natsume whom his colleagues love because he helps them when they are desperate to leave the office early. The loving, gentle Natsume who asks everyone to take care on their way home because it’s going to rain soon.
Bemu likes everything about Natsume.
He waits for Bera to ask “what do you want from him” again, because he thinks that he has the answer to it now.
She never does.
“To tell you the truth,” Natsume says, scratching his head, “I think I’m kinda stalking you.”
Bemu looks at him. He doesn’t know what to say or how to react.
“I--I’m really sorry about that, seriously,” he stutters. “I never meant to appear that way, but it’s probably just part of me being a detective and all.”
Bemu watches him as he heaves a sigh of anxiety.
“I should stop making excuses, shouldn’t I? I am just a creepy old man no matter where I go.”
“No,” Bemu whispers. “I’m glad you did.”
“Really?” Natsume asks, eyes looking earnestly relieved.
“Yes.”
In his dreams, Natsume will be touching the unsightly bumps on his forehead, those hideous scars on his bodies and ugly scales on his forearms. He will let his hair down, hat off, and clothes away to let Natsume see him, the real him. He usually stops at this stage, because he doesn’t want to hope that they can get past this.
In reality, Natsume’s trying to trace his fingers on Bemu’s neck and slip his hand inside his shirt to his collarbone and Bemu pushes him away.
Natsume looks hurt.
It’s the same face that appears in his dreams when Natsume sees him in his skin.
When Bemu sleeps that night, Natsume’s hurt expression haunts him. He tries his best not to crack everytime Natsume’s apologetic words resound in his mind.
“I want him to see the real me,” Bemu declares to Bera. She merely nods.
Natsume comes to the wharf to catch fishes one day.
“But this time it’s not because Yui needs it,” he says quietly, like he’s almost embarrassed to have said it.
Bemu sits down next to him anyway.
“I just want to see you.”
There’s a hand sneaking on top of Bemu’s.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises. By this time, Bemu has lost count of how many apologies he has heard from Natsume.
“Don’t be,” Bemu says, pushing his hand into Natsume’s.
“Do you want me to leave you?”
Something inside Bemu constricts upon hearing this. “No.”
“Then, don’t push me away.”
Bemu turns to look at Natsume.
“Whatever I do, don’t push me away.”
Berro wants to make a wig from leaves this time, and Bemu joins him.
“Look at me!” he exclaims, fastening the so-called wig around his face. “Don’t I look very much like a tiger?”
Bemu smiles.
“I know this is a little too late to say,” Natsume says in between kisses. “But I like you, Bemu-san.”
There are tears falling onto Bemu’s arm and creating temporary circles from the humanising effect of human tears, but Bemu’s too busy trying to alleviate the addictive pain in his chest to realise that the tears are from his eyes.
“If it hurts, don’t do it,” Bera warns.
“But if it’s going to hurt, I want to know how it feels like,” Bemu says.
He doesn’t want to, but it’s the only way.
“Natsume-san,” he calls when Natsume pays another visit to the wharf.
“Hi, I need to er, catch a squid this time,” Natsume says, laughing awkwardly, scratching his head like he always does. “And I sort of wanted to see you too,” he adds, flushing from his cheeks.
“I want to see you too,” Bemu says. He holds out his hand for Natsume to grab on, and pulls him close.
“Bemu-san?”
“I want to let you see the real me.”
“What?”
“Whatever I do, don’t push me away.”
Their eyes meet and Bemu’s anxiety intensifies.
“I won’t.”
In his dreams, Natsume will be patting his skin gently, running his fingers all over his scars, scales and bumpy horns.
In reality, Natsume is slightly petrified at the sight of his skin. But he touches him nevertheless.
“You saved me,” he says.
Bemu is naked, but he feels clothed with warmth at these words.
“It was you, it was always you.”
Natsume cups Bemu’s face in his palm, and Bemu’s screaming inside, desperate for him not to push him away.
He doesn’t.
-
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kjsdfngsdkjfgn
;_____________;
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In his ideal world, Natsume will be slipping his clothes away from his body and he won’t jump away from the sight of his scaly arms. Bemu will be touching his face, and Natsume will touch his skin, that ugly, roughly textured skin, and not say a word about how it’s not the same as his. How it’s not normal.
In reality, Natsume’s taking his hand in his and pulling Bemu to his chest. There’s no unadulterated contact between them, but Natsume might have as well stripped Bemu bare because it’s what it feels like right now. Everything that Bemu holds dear, it’s shattering into a million pieces.
Hnnnn ;;________; I feel so sorry for both of them. Especially Bemu. He's so sad.
He’s lying. If his heart could transform, he’s sure that there are cracks forming on it with every second he has Natsume’s lips on his.
*bawl* I love this love this love this asdfghjkl how did you think of this I love you. Makes it so painfulllll. Stop mutilating my heart. Wait, no, keep doing that, you're amazing at it ;;A;
“To tell you the truth,” Natsume says, scratching his head, “I think I’m kinda stalking you.”
Stalkery love in Yokai Ningen Bem ♥
In his dreams, Natsume will be touching the unsightly bumps on his forehead, those hideous scars on his bodies and ugly scales on his forearms. He will let his hair down, hat off, and clothes away to let Natsume see him, the real him. He usually stops at this stage, because he doesn’t want to hope that they can get past this.
In reality, Natsume’s trying to trace his fingers on Bemu’s neck and slip his hand inside his shirt to his collarbone and Bemu pushes him away.
♥♥♥ ;;A; My hearttttttt. The desire and insecurities, everything. I love how you're portraying them, Bemu's dislike of himself and everything. I'm abusing the word everything. Anyway.
The ending is love ♥ Hur. Great, great Joo *hug*
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in short, ilu, tanttu. please write bemu too *__*
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I LOVE YOU *_______________* THIS IS SO AWESOME.
I just finished watching the first ep yesterday and it's hard not to notice how shippable those two are.
*_*
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Thanks a lot, I'm happy that you like this!
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN~~~
I'm sounding like an awkward ambulance doing this AAAAAAWN sound many times!!! *O*~~
this... is... so... precious!!!!
(LOL IDK ANOTHER WORD BUT I'M BEING HONEST!!! XD)in the end, the reality was sweeter than his dreams <3 <3
and and.... GTDHYAUFIUYTSRTDYFOGIOYUFYDTEARWEAYUKJAFJUGIUYTREARST78TIUFYTXGJUIGTUTS <- my usual attack bc I love this so much
ILU JOO <3 Thanks for this NatsuBemu fic <3 <3
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thank you!!!
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Yup this new OTP deserve more attention!
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He wonders which he would see when Natsume sees him, the him that even he hates to see.
<3
Beautiful piece, I like it - a lot. It feels a little like a companion to the show itself <3
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Thanks! *squishes*
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THIS IS SUCH A WONDERFUL PIECE JOO. WHY ARE YOU SO WONDERFUL. It's so sweet and heartbreaking and warm at the same time and ugh. I'm in love with these two already. THANK YOU JOO.
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Thanks a lot! I'm not wonderful, you are *____* I'm so glad you like them ...now it's your turn to write them XD
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I love the relationships between Bemu and Bera, almost like confidants, and Bemu and Bero, almost like siblings.
I just... really want to give Bem a hug. T______________T
Write moar please. ♥
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Same, I just want to bubble wrap him and pamper him and tell him everybody loves him :(:( Bemu's just ...T__T
You too, write us some bemu/natsume!
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Even if it's still hard shipping them with all my heart, the kissing and all #issues #stillloveyou #madly ♥
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#loveyoutoo
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Akame in any forms names and shapes works
give u my love:) u make my day;) arigato!!!
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Thanks :D
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THANK YOU *___*
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Is it wrong that I want something like that to happen? ;~;
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/clings
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and it's so good *-* Beautiful and angsty, oh my poor heart >.<
thank you~
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I'm glad you like this, and I'm glad I didn't disappoint ;____; bemu/natsume is so wonderful :(
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it's kinda sad yet beautiful...
it's
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Thanks a lot, I don't mind comments at all :D
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In reality, Natsume is slightly petrified at the sight of his skin. But he touches him nevertheless.
This is all so good. So much Angst, emo!youkaiBemu.