Fanfic: Yamato Nadeshiko
Title: Yamato Nadeshiko
Rating: T
Type: One-shot
Genre: Darkfic with hints of tainted love.
Warnings: Implied rape, lots of mind fuckery.
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater and am making no profit off of this.
Summary: Noah was more than happy to fight for what he wanted. And when that fails, he had no problem lying to get what he wanted. And he always got what he wanted.
Notes: This spawned out of the 12 characters meme I did. Was supposed to be Hurt/Comfort, but, well, it kind of fits the bill. I have no idea what genres to put it under if it were on FF.Net, though.
I wonder if she knew how beautiful she looked right now.
Nakatsukasa Tsubaki was, on the whole, definitely a rare beauty in herself. Not quite the same elegant beauty of that girl, but in the demure, soft way. It wasn't too much of a secret that she was a weapon, but she was a rare one indeed, multi-formed and a demon blade on top of it all. Of course when I saw her I had felt the compulsion to have her. What man wouldn't want such a lovely, rare treasure?
Certainly her meister wanted her, too. He was quite a catch himself, the lone surviving member of such an industrious clan was always a welcome member of my collection. Which led to this current situation, as it were. My lovely new weapon was curled up where she was, long black hair falling freely about her shoulders, indigo eyes proving to show an incredible amount of pain behind her otherwise blank facade.
"Let him go..."
I wish that she knew I simply couldn't do such a thing. Rare prizes were never to be thrown away. That much was a known fact, a given on whatever one wanted to collect. She should know that.
"Please..."
She was starting to get desperate after having affirmed that fight was futile. Her blood had dried on the walls and floor by now, stopped flowing from her wounds. This didn't change a thing about how she looked, at least, not to me. Beauty alone is not enough to get into my collection. This, much like that girl, was not a normal, beautiful woman.
No, her people had a term for women like her. I can't quite remember it right now, but I know for a fact that it fits her to the letter.
I walk over to her, lifting her head to make her look me in the eyes. Nakatsukasa did not fight me, nor did she show any signs of fear. She wasn't like the other at her school, so willing to fight until they got to see the true power. Even Shinigami-kun had proved to be frightened, and her meister had been, as well. I do wonder if he was still in the corner, waiting for his next opportunity to attack. He was putting on a good front, but anyone who has ever been hunting knows what it means when an animal is in a corner and fighting: The fight is almost gone.
"He's dead," I lie, just to see the reaction in those pretty eyes.
Naturally, her reaction just adds to her beauty. Knowing continuing her fight is useless, continuing her pleas was just as useless, caused her face to fall and her sword to be left, forgotten, on the floor. I think I see her shoulders shaking, but that is not my problem, as her eyes were turning glassy, and then...
...tears fell. Nakatsukasa turned her head to hide this fact, trying to cover those lovely eyes with her long hair. Foolish girl. Were all of them so easy to upset?
I let her cry for a while, not thinking that anything would be a problem if she let out her grief. It wasn't a crime for her to feel guilty, depresssed, helpless about this situation that I fabricated.
Then I grab her chin and press my lips against hers, enjoying the quiver that I got. She needed to be comforted as if this situation were accurate to the real one, of course. And since I was the one who had "killed" him, if I knew my Japanese culture, it made her mine.
Or was that Chinese? I don't remember.
Nakatsukasa did not struggle, nor did she kiss back. She was completely, utterly miserable. I could nearly see the thoughts racing through her head.
"Why did this have to happen?" "This is all my fault." "If I had acted sooner..."
I didn't find the heart to give her the answers, to tell her that this happened because I had willed it so, that yes, if she acted sooner, Black Star would "still" be alive, so it is indeed her fault. It made it easy to pull off her belts and push her skirt to the side with her in this mental state.
...Yamato Nadeshiko.
That was the term I was thinking of just now.
It suits her so well. She should wear this title with pride.
Rating: T
Type: One-shot
Genre: Darkfic with hints of tainted love.
Warnings: Implied rape, lots of mind fuckery.
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater and am making no profit off of this.
Summary: Noah was more than happy to fight for what he wanted. And when that fails, he had no problem lying to get what he wanted. And he always got what he wanted.
Notes: This spawned out of the 12 characters meme I did. Was supposed to be Hurt/Comfort, but, well, it kind of fits the bill. I have no idea what genres to put it under if it were on FF.Net, though.
I wonder if she knew how beautiful she looked right now.
Nakatsukasa Tsubaki was, on the whole, definitely a rare beauty in herself. Not quite the same elegant beauty of that girl, but in the demure, soft way. It wasn't too much of a secret that she was a weapon, but she was a rare one indeed, multi-formed and a demon blade on top of it all. Of course when I saw her I had felt the compulsion to have her. What man wouldn't want such a lovely, rare treasure?
Certainly her meister wanted her, too. He was quite a catch himself, the lone surviving member of such an industrious clan was always a welcome member of my collection. Which led to this current situation, as it were. My lovely new weapon was curled up where she was, long black hair falling freely about her shoulders, indigo eyes proving to show an incredible amount of pain behind her otherwise blank facade.
"Let him go..."
I wish that she knew I simply couldn't do such a thing. Rare prizes were never to be thrown away. That much was a known fact, a given on whatever one wanted to collect. She should know that.
"Please..."
She was starting to get desperate after having affirmed that fight was futile. Her blood had dried on the walls and floor by now, stopped flowing from her wounds. This didn't change a thing about how she looked, at least, not to me. Beauty alone is not enough to get into my collection. This, much like that girl, was not a normal, beautiful woman.
No, her people had a term for women like her. I can't quite remember it right now, but I know for a fact that it fits her to the letter.
I walk over to her, lifting her head to make her look me in the eyes. Nakatsukasa did not fight me, nor did she show any signs of fear. She wasn't like the other at her school, so willing to fight until they got to see the true power. Even Shinigami-kun had proved to be frightened, and her meister had been, as well. I do wonder if he was still in the corner, waiting for his next opportunity to attack. He was putting on a good front, but anyone who has ever been hunting knows what it means when an animal is in a corner and fighting: The fight is almost gone.
"He's dead," I lie, just to see the reaction in those pretty eyes.
Naturally, her reaction just adds to her beauty. Knowing continuing her fight is useless, continuing her pleas was just as useless, caused her face to fall and her sword to be left, forgotten, on the floor. I think I see her shoulders shaking, but that is not my problem, as her eyes were turning glassy, and then...
...tears fell. Nakatsukasa turned her head to hide this fact, trying to cover those lovely eyes with her long hair. Foolish girl. Were all of them so easy to upset?
I let her cry for a while, not thinking that anything would be a problem if she let out her grief. It wasn't a crime for her to feel guilty, depresssed, helpless about this situation that I fabricated.
Then I grab her chin and press my lips against hers, enjoying the quiver that I got. She needed to be comforted as if this situation were accurate to the real one, of course. And since I was the one who had "killed" him, if I knew my Japanese culture, it made her mine.
Or was that Chinese? I don't remember.
Nakatsukasa did not struggle, nor did she kiss back. She was completely, utterly miserable. I could nearly see the thoughts racing through her head.
"Why did this have to happen?" "This is all my fault." "If I had acted sooner..."
I didn't find the heart to give her the answers, to tell her that this happened because I had willed it so, that yes, if she acted sooner, Black Star would "still" be alive, so it is indeed her fault. It made it easy to pull off her belts and push her skirt to the side with her in this mental state.
...Yamato Nadeshiko.
That was the term I was thinking of just now.
It suits her so well. She should wear this title with pride.