Electric Butterfly: PSYCHO FANGIRL!! RAWR! (jurhael) wrote in staroceanyaoi,
Electric Butterfly: PSYCHO FANGIRL!! RAWR!
jurhael
staroceanyaoi

fic, Bloodplay, cliff/albel, star ocean 3

Fandom: Star Ocean 3
Type: Fanfic
Word Count: 507
Characters: Cliff/Albel
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own Star Ocean anything.
Summary: Albel likes to play.
Notes: None, really. Meh. for kink_bingo: bloodplay




Sometimes Albel likes to cut himself with his bladed gauntlet. He likes to watch the blood slide down his arm, feeling a symbol of warm life against his skin. He likes the crimson color that matches his eyes. Pain means nothing to him--not anymore. His ability to feel pain ended in his teenage years when fire almost burnt him alive. He doesn't like to think of that past when his father died and he had no one left. That sort of pain destroys physical pain. At least that's what Albel believes or claims to.

He doesn't cut very often simply because as a battle hardened warrior, he doesn't need to. When he does run a sharp object across himself, he is almost always alone. For him, it's a release of sorts, a means to see a part of his life slip away, and hopefully any painful memories that have pop up every once in awhile. He isn't suicidal. If he wanted to kill himself, he would have done so years ago. No, it's not about dying, it's about living and watching it drip over a pale wrist. Pain accentuates life, reminding people that they can be injured, or even killed, and that blood is a sign of frailty that no one readily admits. Not even Albel consciously thinks this way. He hates even thinking of weakness, much less having any. Yet still, he finds his injuries fascinating.

Sometimes Cliff catches him in the act and tries to stop him. That, of course, is met with much protest and sometimes a swipe that sends the Klausian blond backward. Cliff doesn't understand. How could he? He doesn't have a single blemish on him. In fact, many would consider him perfect, like a god. Albel can't imagine Cliff doing anything to make himself bleed. Albel, on the other hand, has made his so-called lover bleed before and has no problem doing it again. Blood wet sex is always fun even though it stains the sheets. Waking up to dry blood is always fun too.

Sometimes Albel wants to crawl on top of Cliff, slice his own chin and watch the blood drip down the other man's throat to his chest. He knows Cliff would squirm at the idea. Albel masturbates to it. Sometimes he tries to use the blood as lubricant, but it dries all too quickly.

To Albel, it's just a game he likes to play. Some might call it insane, but Albel is used to that and stopped caring years ago. Sometimes, it's a game of death, especially when it involves killing an enemy. He dreams of bathing in the blood of thousands, reveling in victories he always earns. He's honestly surprised that he's never made such a dream reality. Simply killing people and washing the strange blood away doesn't count.

He never tells Cliff any of these fantasies because he figures that the so-called oaf neither needs nor deserves to know. Maybe one day, Albel will tell him just to see what sort of reaction he gets.
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