The death of a beautiful woman,
Is unquestionably the most
Poetical topic
In the world…
Edgar Allan Poe, The Philosophy of Composition
#3
You are the only human who I've allowed to touch my feathers. You seemed really happy; said I was finally being more expressive. I reminded you that I express myself through my poems, and all you did was softly chuckle, say you know, and touch my feathers some more. I could have pushed you off, but I didn't. There's something about you, Miss Rosalina, that I find intriguing, but I am not quite sure as to what.
As you continue to caress my wings, I fall into the deep realm of mind thoughts, finding that, for once, they are overwhelming me. There are no descriptive words, if there are any, then they refuse to come and assist me. Emotions are betraying me, and I can't do anything about it.
Gods, what have you done to me? Not even my poems can give me insight into that jet black darkness that is my heart.
Damnit, what is this feeling? What is it, and why is my heart skipping a non-fatal beat?
#5
Lies.
You are nothing more than lies. Lies that are vile and disgusting and not representative of the excellence you are.
You love me, Rosalina; you love me, you love me, you love me. It is the truth that will appear for eternity. You are a human that is the genuine definition of perfection. Do you not realize how contradictory that is? But damnit, it's a contradiction I love, a contradiction that I have tasted and am now addicted to. You are meant to be with me and me only. It is the fate that I write about so often, but only now do I understand it.
Rosalina, my beautiful black rose, you are the one whose petals I wish to carefully pluck, one by one, until I reach that bare core. You've blossomed into the dark beauty that I have always longed for. Don't deny my love – stop denying my love. Stop saying that you don't feel the same way: someone of your grandeur isn't designed to be with him! You're tainted, attracted by that man's deadly aroma.
Don't you see, Rosalina?! It is you and I that is destined to live in this beautifully cruel world! You shake your head. Don't do that! Let the truth enlighten you before I engulf you in my loving darkness!
Don't walk away from me! I try to grab your arm, but you pull away and leave me alone, just like I was in the beginning. These tears that dared show themselves angers me, but I know they won't last for long. You, dear Miss Rosalina, are just simply confused. This dark angel is willing to guide you back to the truth.
I laugh and laugh. It's all so amusing; I feel like I'm living out one of my poems. My whole life is just never-ending poetry, is it not? Covered in swirling darkness and sharp instability.
#7
You look really beautiful tied up. I'm sorry that I cannot find words to adequately your beauty, which is actually a showcase of delicious irony. For once, Miss Rosalina, you have passed onto me the contagious disease known as speechlessness. You should be happy – you have finally won that little game. Your determination has led you to success.
You know, there's no need to cry; I'm just wanting to make you perfect again. You see, Marth wasn't perfect. He was nowhere near perfect, and every moment you spent with him was making you flawed and broken.
But hey, now that the final drips of blood from his body has dripped onto the floor, you can finally see your mistakes. The mistakes that have almost taken you away from me. Please realize that I have saved you from the tantalizing scene of a flawed hell.
You are to be with me, Rosalina. I touch your porcelain face ever-so delicately, afraid of causing you to shatter into pieces. I see the fear shining brightly in your wide, blue eyes. I think nothing of it, my dear – that fright you wear will soon dissipate.
Ah, this is the perfect inspiration for my newest poem.
#2
You stare at me, thinking in your pretty little brain what you can do to brighten the last dark bit of my soul. I'm not exactly sure how you can carry out that act, Miss Rosalina, but be my guest.
I return the stare and see a peculiar emotion in your expressive eyes: determination. I demand your reasoning for your actions, and you smirk and give an ethereal chuckle. You claim that you wish to make me speechless.
"There's an amount of irony," you say, "that will be quite amusing. Why, a speechless poet? That is a pleasant oxymoron."
You smile and, somehow, I smile too. It's surprising that you, a mere mortal, has made this dark angel turn the corners of his lips upwards. Damnit, the emotions I've worked so to rid myself of are quickly returning.
It's all your fault. Allowing you to interact with me is bringing about some change that will surely affect my writing.
I don't regret a single moment.
#4
Stop invading my dreams, Miss Rosalina. Stop finding your way into this dark illusion of my thoughts. Why do you insist on torturing me with your presence in both the light of day and the dark of night? Why, damn you, tell me why?!
You've finally made me capture an emotion that I never thought I could grab.
Love. Love. I…love you. It shows in my poetry – the tales of yearning that cannot be shown seeps onto the paper, staining it with reminders of crushing uncertainty and a boy intrigued by your ravishing, starry enchantment.
It's shocking, shocking enough to make me laugh. My laughter sounds dry and erratic given the situation I am now in. An eternal angel in love with a mere human. It's preposterous in the eyes of society, but I couldn't care less. I've decided that I must find a way to express my feelings; poetry is not an adequate outlet this time.
I go out and find you, ready to pour my feelings into a shatter-ready cup, only to have time freeze. I see you holding a man as you coo his name.
Who is this wretched being named Marth, and are your lively lips brushing against his?
#6
The heart seeps black/As the eyes weeps blood/All as the expected result/Of the world becoming monochrome.
I stop writing, place my pen on the table, and scream. Scream until my voice aches with pain, the physical pain matching my emotional sorrow and my mental instability.
Miss Rosalina, you were so perfect. Just complete flawlessness. Everything about you screamed an unmatched uniqueness, and yet you waste it on that pathetic waste of space! He does not deserve a being of your status!
Miss Rosalina, you…you are a poison. A delicious poison that numbs and skewers the mind and replaces it with a lust that wants you, and you only. Can't you see that these crimson red eyes of mine will only look upon you?! Can't you hear my loud declarations of love?!
I've broken out of my restraints, and you helped. You are the reason why I taste the bittersweet taste of freedom upon my tongue. I'll make you understand, Rosalina.
I'll make you understand that you love me, too.
#1
"With a black world
Covered in vermillion
You stand on the gray ground
Covered in scarlet."
That is the first time I have read the lines of any of my poems aloud. I shake my head and get ready to ball up the paper I marked my dark words on when someone declared that my words were beautiful. I turned and saw a human woman that didn't look human; instead, she looked as though she resided with the shining stars in the night sky. Why she fell down to Earth and dared confront a fallen angel, dark teal wings being ruffled by the winds, is something I cannot comprehend.
"The words invoke mysterious feelings that cannot be deciphered unless you decide to reveal the meaning," she said, then laughed. "And yet, where are my manners? I am Rosalina Star. Do you mind telling me who you are?"
"Why are you here, human?" I narrow my eyes, but you don't seem frightened. That is intriguing.
"Because humans have been given the privilege to roam this bittersweet realm known as Earth."
My eyes widened. Her words sounded like pure poetry reminiscent of the dark, olden times. It is surprising to hear such perfection escape her lips.
"Dark Pit is my name," I reply, removing the animosity from my voice. I tell you that you will hear no expression of my feelings escape my lips. You asked if you could hear more of my poems, and I reluctantly say yes. I doubt that you would be leaving anytime soon.
Though I am sure that, with you being here, something will change.
#8
I never knew that a human could look so beautiful blanketed in a scarlet sheet. But you, Miss Rosalina, you express perfection even in the cold times of death. I can't help but smile – you are so…precious and perfect. It is as if my poetry has come to life, I am living it word for word, stanza for stanza.
It's so very beautiful.
I stare down upon, looking into your eyes, noticing that oceanic blue color has faded. I laugh and I laugh. You, Miss Rosalina, you are the physical embodiment of poetry itself! I must continue writing it with you! I hold the knife that drips vermillion to my throat, and with a swift swipe, I follow you to that realm of darkness. Only one thought comes to mind as all others fade away, and Miss Rosalina, you have proven it well.
The death of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world, and equally is it beyond doubt that the lips best suited for such topic are those of a bereaved lover.
Long title is long.
Why does everything I make Kurolina-related become so tragic and tainted with death? I am creating the feels with my own OTP. Eh, whatever, take a yandere!Dark Pit. It's rare – for me, at least – to see yandere males. This story, in terms of format and characters, is similar to It's really not wrong, a MarLucy oneshot I wrote detailing Lucina's growing erratic obsession with her precious Lord Marth.
Anywho, this story is dedicated to Paradigm of Writing. This is the first oneshot I've written for him, and he'll be receiving a second one called Poison Body - Girl's mind later today. I hope you enjoyed this one with everyone's favorite dark angel! Now let's all make it a headcannon that Dark Pit writes really depressing, gothic poems.