Alphabet Challenge: M, Madness
Author:
hanakoanime
Medium: Fanfiction
Fandom: Bleach
Love list: Adultery
Warnings: Implied sexual content
Summary: Making a deal with the devil, creating a harem--it was destroyed with one blade. As he did everything, everything is explained.
Notes: ~Coincides with A, Attaining.
~fem!Byakuya's name is Michiko because I was too lazy to see if it would work as a feminine name. *shot*
~Yes, this is one messed up AU for me, where two of the "same people" with little differences are, but... have you seen Capriccio Farce? *shot again*
~Song-fic: Based off of Madness of Duke Venomania, or, if you want the English title (official), Dance with Asmodeus.
This harem he created, it was wonderful, it was captivating, but it was empty. It was hard to believe that it had only been a few weeks since he made that deal with the devil, destroying that image that had once plagued him. With his bright red hair, he was a target that’d often get teased-even if he did fight them, he still ended up getting teased.
To his immense joy, he found that his friend, or maybe his former friend, found her way to his harem, easily falling under the spell. He found her appealing beyond belief, but he still blamed her as much as the others for alienating him, for taking away his “happy childhood”.
To be honest, it was heady, watching his childhood, his past, burn away. He loved that the people believed him, believed that he was new here. He loved that his childhood friend didn’t recognize him, that she didn’t know he was the one she used to torment with all those other villagers.
He hated her, hated her for his terrible childhood, for being his friend before betraying him-he wished she had just torment him before becoming his friend. He was always vulnerable with her, and now, he lost that one place of hope, of confidence.
It was better this way, having no strings attached to anyone. It was better to have lost her the way he did-it was the final step to becoming a servant of the devil, of holding onto the sword of lust. He loved the power he was given by the devil, loved that he was irresistible to every woman he met. The ones he liked the looks of, he brought home.
Oftentimes, they were feisty, the complete opposite of her, and ironically, he also managed to capture her adopted sister. He loved the power within his hands, he loved the women fawning over him, and he would keep it this way.
He smiled at Rukia, holding out his hand, gesturing towards his room. She eagerly followed, under his spell as the others were, and he whispered words full of lust, of want, and she was happy to do as he said. As he kissed, as they took off their clothes, he could only help but to laugh at the situation.
He was what the others said he would never become because of their teasing. With the devil’s help, with the power he held, he was able to seduce these women, able to take them into his arms, chuckling as he pulled the other close.
As he pulled away, silently laughing, he heard someone say that there was a person asking for his presence. Without thinking, he left the woman alone, remembering last minute to put on clothes, and went to the front door.
At first, he was confused by her appearance-it appeared as if she was a late bloomer. More confusing was that she had come to see him, not the other way. However, he held his hand out and asked, “Now, shall we dance?”
She came to him willingly and as he held her in his embrace, he saw a smile light her face. Not thinking much of it (since all the women were happy to be in his arms), he pulled her closer, liking the way she laughed.
A fierce pain from his chest-that’s all he registered as the woman pulled away, smiling with a bloodied knife in her hand. He couldn’t help but to fall to his knees, the poison spreading further and further within his bloodstream.
“My lover,” he whispered. “She’s here, and I poisoned the demon that locked her away.”
Renji watched the others run away, watched them leave his mansion. As his childhood friend moved to the door, the last one, he tried to reach out to her, tried to tell her something, but words failed him.
His regret, his sins, made him a hollow. The words he failed to say, the words he wished he said, “I love you, Michiko,” never left his lips.