Title: A Lovely Day For A Picnic
Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)
Notes: Inspired by a few of the "Axel/Disney world" stories that are out there. I probably butchered Snow White in this, for the record. Reviews are welcomed and encouraged, let me know I didn't just waste a chunk of my life writing Axel/Snow White for something other than my own sick amusement.
Warnings: Axel/Snow White. Noncon. Fluff nonexistent. A bit dark in subject matter. Rape implications, implications of multiple rapes and/or attacks.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, Disney, or their characters.
It was an abnormally bright, cheery day. The sun was shining, the grass couldn't possibly be any greener, and if one were to strain their ears very hard, they might hear the flowers sighing in contentment as the gentlest of breezes blew against them.
Axel absolutely hated days like this, but what was a Nobody to do?
He could only sigh, stretch his arms above him, and wait for someone dumb enough to piss him off to come strolling into the quaint forest glen. (At least that's how it started. After the first hour, he gave up waiting for someone dumb enough to piss him off and decided he would settle for anybody to play with.)
For the moment, he could only listen to the strange noises that these disturbingly happy forest creatures made as he burned them. The rabbits made a peculiar hissing noise, he noted, and their smoked smell made him wish he thought twice before setting the creature ablaze.The deer was the most appealing, actually, and he relished the memory of taste as a piece of the sparkly-eyed deer's leg slid down his throat. Delicious.
A twig snapped behind him, and he fought the urge to break out into a grin right away. He spun around to see a girl – younger than his Other had been, certainly, but old enough to fill out her simple peasant dress well enough. A girlish bow tied in her hair told him what he already knew—regardless of her age, she was probably as pure and nice and undeniably kind as the other Princesses of the Worlds had been. Which meant this was definitely going to be fun.
"Pardon me, sir?" She smiled at him, and gave a small curtsey. "My name is Snow White, and I'm very pleased to have met you here, but I couldn't help but notice that I have never seen you in this kingdom before." She pointed towards a castle in the distance, with the ever-present smile. "I live in that castle there, and I travel in the forest quite frequently. In fact," she said, showing off a picnic basket draped over one of her arms, "I was just coming here to have a picnic!"
Axel snorted, and wondered how in the hell all these women could be so stupid. And talkative. For some reason, they were always so damn talkative.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers?" he asked, pulling back his hood. She gaped a little at him, then, as the others had—although he could never tell if they were shocked by his unnatural hair, his eyes, the tattoos, or the simple fact that there was a man in their kingdom not falling on the ground to worship at their feet.
Her smile returned to its former steadiness. "As I said, sir, my name is Snow White." Another curtsey. "Might I ask your name, so that we will no longer be strangers?"
He laughed. Idiots, the lot of them.
"The name's Axel. Commit it to memory."
"Certainly, Axel!" She was practically chirping now. "I'm afraid my mother died shortly after I was born, but I'm certain she wouldn't mind my speaking with you."
"Oh?" He quirked an eyebrow, having decided that pretending sympathy was harder to do than pretending to be curious. "And why is that?"
She gave him a look that would've melted the iciest heart. Too bad he didn't have one. "You don't seem like a bad person. A little rough with manners—" --the look he shot her caused a slight blush, and she faltered for the first time, letting the picnic basket drop to the forest floor. "I-If you don't mind my saying so, of course, and pardon the remark. But…" she continued, softening her gaze. "You are certainly not bad. Nothing like my stepmother, at least. She's very... well, very wicked."
He threw his head back and laughed a little too hard and much too long. When he finally stopped, he wiped at the space under his eyes to rub away any invisible tears. "You've got a pretty skewed sense of good and evil, girl, because I'm as wicked as they come."
"Oh no!" She said, extending her arm towards him. "I don't believe that at all! You're nothing like her! You couldn't… well, you wouldn't—"
He closed the distance between them with a sudden rush, gripping a porcelain wrist in his burning glove and pressing her against him with the other. (Did he hear a sizzle or was it just wishful thinking? She cried out, either way.)
He pressed his lips tight against her ear, drawing a noise that reminded him of a bird he killed earlier. "I don't like being told what I would or wouldn't do. Because in fact, I could—" the hand at her back trailed around to her bodice, and the altogether alien feeling was enough to make her squirm, "—and I would—" he unlaced the frayed strings, feeling warm frenzied breaths on his cheek, "and I will…"
He gripped her hair, tearing off the bow she had oh-very-carefully tied into it, and threw her on the ground. Weak, like the others, she simply curled into a fetal position and whimpered. (At least Jasmine tried to run, and – what's her face, the one with the crossdressing fetish—had managed to land a few kicks to his side.)
He frowned. Then, a thought came to him, and he grinned so wide he thought his face might break from the strain. Reaching to the discarded picnic basket, he withdrew the tenderly folded blanket and spread it out on the greenest, loveliest patch of grass in the glen.
"I've already eaten," he said, dragging her to the most perfect spot for a picnic, "but I'm always willing to make room for more."