yay for guilty pleasures.
warning: blood. random master/servant implications. sadistic bastards. xD
disclaimer: i do not own these characters or this game or square enix or nomura's soul (or even my own—LAWLWHUT?). trust me, if i did, kingdom hearts I and II and most of the final fantasy games would be way different...if you catch my drift. -wink-
you give it all and sometimes fade away
you give it all,
we all just fade
it's not love, we're not love
but i'm not perishing
life in a museum – a static lullaby
------
fade in, set up the scene;
dark, lonely nights, blood merged with moonlight from the heart, glazed eyes stare at nothing.
enter insanity and delirium-induced hallucinations.
– don't look at them, pet.
fear thy nightmares; we are unpredictable, we will steal your hope.
---
Around bird-bone limbs wrapped constricting vines, thorns jutting out from the monster's arms and pressing angrily into the pallid flesh. The scythe-wielder's mauve hair appeared a washed-out silvery coral in the moonlight, petal-pure and fluttering as he turned to face the reminiscent thief, his prisoner, the memory-witch.
His azure eyes were burning with fever, unearthly feline eyes cutting through the dim, sheltering shadows of the white room. The eyes' darkness tainted them a different stain and melted down all defenses that locked up all their little secrets and late-night failures to concoct a new remedy out of pale blue dreams and flower petals.
The prisoner pinned against the wall had stopped dreaming long ago, head hung low and blood dripping from cuts crisscrossing patterns over her smooth flesh, said crimson leaking from a flaw just above the left light cerulean eye. The pale orbs narrowed into defeated horizontal slits were downcast, watching dully as black boots floated soundlessly over the ground, closer and closer with each forced breath.
A cruelly saccharine smile twisted Marluxia's expression, and the cloying scent of flora surrounded the two, the master and the prisoner. His gloved hand traced a pattern over the witch's cheek, dipping to cup her chin, tilting her head up and forcing her to look at him. Her pale blue eyes were soft and obedient, lifelessly void of dreams and hope; broken, submissive. A tremor of satisfaction crawled down nature's spine, and his thumb ghosted across her scratched cheek.
"Haven't given up yet, have you, little rose?"
The silky voice was mildly amused; with a small gesture of his hand, the thorns trapping Naminé tightened. A small whimper escaped the blonde's mouth through her clenched teeth, but her pale irises still stared trustingly up at nature.
It's just a game.
The thorns dug deeper into her unresisting flesh, small orbs of blood welling up and staining her skin in vermilion smears. She bit her bottom lip to refrain from flinching; a coppery taste soon filled her mouth.
"Ah, sweet Naminé."
His voice was a singsong lullaby, soft and low. He leaned closer until they were but inches away. The memory-witch could feel his chilly winter-spring breath gliding across her face, the soft, cool scent paralyzing her already-unresponsive limbs. She shivered.
"Unlock your dead heart, love."
His lips pulled forward and whispered nothing against the bloodied skin on Naminé's cheek, azure feline-eyes glimmering darkly in the moon-heart's faded silver lifeblood. Gentle fingers like whispers and butterfly kisses drifted over her pale, crimson-streaked flesh, tracing raw cuts that oozed the little rose's mock-life.
"If you knew…"
An almost inscrutable smirk against her pallid skin, nature's mouth brushing a cut and blood painting itself through the cracks of his lips. He pulled away, pulled away to stare the prisoner in the eye, hues of blue meeting, clashing mutely. The vines constricted tighter still, a single tendril snaking to tighten around her throat, like cold fingers slowly closing over her trachea.
"Marl—marlux.."
The struggle was evident, vines wrapped tighter until no voice uttered from her larynx. The quiet smirk grew.
"Now, now, pet. Don't waste your breath."
Naminé's pale eyes held a fixed panic, the frantic flame dying as they remained locked with Marluxia's own poisonous gaze, light sky melded with dark ocean.
Too bad your hero isn't here to save you, pet.
Nature's gloved hand gently released her chin; her head dipped down to stare uselessly at the floor, gaze dully tracing the smears of blood with the sound of the vines sliding across the surface and the walls. She swallowed as Marluxia stepped away, her mouth still slick and warm from the blood oozing from her bottom lip, his eyes sweet and dark with poison.
He watched as she wilted like one of the dying roses in the garden, his sanity wilting too with each soft, plaintive drip of blood onto the tiled floor. The toxin in his eyes was vivid with delirium.
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