A/N: First, I have to say that I can't stand Loly. I've disliked her ever since I first saw her in the anime. However, I have to admit that I'm fascinated by the potential for a dark backstory between her and Aizen. Why is she so obsessed with him? What could have possibly caused her extreme behavior toward Orihime in Las Noches? This story is one of the possibilities I imagined, given Aizen's experimental bent and utter lack of ethics.
This is a very dark piece. I'd be interested in hearing your opinions. Please do let me know if there are problems with the piece, if you hate it and why, or if you think it's interesting, or if you want me to continue (or would prefer that I didn't). Thanks. :)
Warning: dark themes, bloodplay, sadism, lemon, threesome.
(Originally posted 5/7/11, reposted 5/15/11.)
Poison by Alice Cooper
Your cruel device/Your blood like ice
One look could kill/My pain, your thrill
I want to love you but I better not touch
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too much
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison
You're poison running through my veins
The summons came when the two of them were in their quarters, getting ready for bed. The blonde was washing her face and humming to herself. The dark-haired girl was scowling at her reflection in the mirror and ignoring her friend's attempts at conversation. There was a knock on the door, and Menoly got up to answer it.
When she came back her face was grim and set. "Aizen-sama wishes us to attend him in his personal quarters." She knew what she would see in her friend's face. Loly's eyes suddenly brightened and a smile curved her lips. She immediately got out her makeup and started applying eye shadow to her visible eye, brushed her hair and scrutinized herself in the mirror.
Menoly frowned. "I still don't see why you're so happy about it." Her voice was surly. "I mean, it's not like we have any choice." She sat on the bed, waiting for her friend to finish primping.
Loly scowled back at her. "Choice? Who cares about that? Aizen-sama still wants us, he wants us," she sang out, putting the finishing touches on her face. After one more glance in the mirror, she tugged her already skimpy outfit a little lower, revealing more of the soft swell of her breasts. "Let's go!"
As they scurried through the long, white halls, Menoly persisted with her argument. "Why are you so gone on him? He's a shinigami, we're hollows, and you know he doesn't care about us. We're just... test subjects, or things to him. I mean, he uses hollows in his experiments. He's just using us now."
Loly gave her friend a sidelong grin with a wicked spark in her eye. "I'd like him to experiment on me."
The blonde snorted. "Uh, yeah? Isn't that what he's doing? I mean, he hurts you all the time. Do you really like pain?"
Loly's eyes flashed. "Of course not." She turned and glared at her friend. "But haven't you seen the way he looks at me?"
"Oh yeah," Menoly crossed her arms. "He gets a thrill out of hurting you. He's a-" She cut herself off, looking around self-consciously for the surveillance cameras, and lowered her voice. "He's a sick, twisted bastard."
Loly stopped, color rising in her face and fury in her voice. "You bitch, don't you dare say that about Aizen-sama. He's got more worth in his little finger than you've got in your whole fucking body." She quivered, looking as though she were about to slap her friend.
Menoly simply kept on walking, shaking her head. "Sure. Shutting up." They continued on in silence for a few moments. "So why? Why do you enjoy it?"
Loly continued walking, let out a long breath. "Because..." she hesitated. "Whenever he hurts me, he looks at me as though I'm the only thing in the entire world." She scowled. "I'd do anything for that."
The blonde rolled her eyes but said nothing.
Loly's eyes turned distant. "Come on, Menoly. He's our fucking creator. We didn't even really exist, couldn't really even think, until he treated us with the hougyoku. Don't you think we owe him something?"
Menoly shrugged. "Yeah. We owe him obedience." She brushed her hair back out of her eyes. "I swore loyalty to him until death and I'll keep that oath. I'll fight for him. I'll obey his orders." Her lips twisted. "But I don't have to like it."
The other girl grinned. "Well, that's just more for me then." Her eyes were dreamy. "I'll do anything for him. When he looks at me, it's like I'm on fire inside. I'm completely empty and he's the only one who can fill me."
The blonde made a derisive noise in the back of her throat, but said no more, as they had arrived at the great double doors of Aizen's personal quarters. Two hollow guards stood at attention at either side of the doors. As the two girls approached, the doors swung open ponderously, and they entered.
There was a fire burning in the vast, vaulted sitting room beyond the entry hall, but no one was present. The girls crossed the hall to an arched entrance at the far end of the large room, where they knew a flight of marble steps led up to Aizen's bedroom. At the top of the flight of stairs, Loly knocked on the elaborately carved cherrywood door.
"Enter," came the deep voice from within, and Loly shivered. She turned the iron handle and stepped into the room, followed closely by Menoly.
The Lord of Las Noches was reclining on his bed. He had been watching a video; the screen was just withdrawing into its cabinet and he held a remote in his long-fingered hands. As they entered, he smiled at them and set the remote down on the end table next to a leather-bound book and a glass partially filled with blood-red wine. The wine matched the color of the sheets of his bed, a stark contrast to the marble floor and white walls.
Loly stared at him, almost forgetting her obeisance as she once again felt the impact of his perfect features, his brown hair artfully tousled with one curl hanging in his face, the full lips with a hint of a wicked smile, the deep mahogany eyes simmering with dark promises. He was wearing a silk robe the color of dark cherries, casually tied at the waist so that it hung partially open, exposing his long, graceful throat and a great deal of muscular chest. Loly felt a blush creeping over her face at the sight of him. She realized with a shock that Menoly was already kneeling, and hastened to copy her friend.
"Lord Aizen," she murmured, bowing her head.
"Come here, Loly," said Aizen. His voice was lazy but resonant, and Loly could not help shuddering at the sound of it. She lifted her head again and met his gaze, and then found she could not look away. He brought the glass of wine to his lips, drained it, then set it back down on the table with a muted clink.
She crawled up onto the huge bed, approaching him slowly. She could feel the banked heat of his reiatsu, and her skin quivered at the elegant feel of the satin coverlet. She trailed one hand over his leg underneath the deep red bedding.
"Why is everything in this room white except your bed, Aizen-sama?"
His smile was dark. "Because I despise seeing bloodstains on my sheets."
Her fingers slid over his chest, pulled one lapel further down, trailed through the hair gleaming like dark gold in the yellow light from the wall sconces. Then she threw herself on him and brought her lips to his.
He took her mouth hungrily and with one hand tore the fabric from her breasts. Her nostrils flared at the sudden sensation of air striking her skin, as his hand ghosted over her nipples, then pinched one hard. She kissed him again, pressing herself into him, allowing him to enter her with his tongue, closing her eyes and tasting him, smelling the rich scent of wine on his mouth and on his skin. Her body fell against his; she felt the warmth of his powerful body all along the length of hers, and she shivered.
He drew back from the kiss and gazed at her, some expression she could not decipher deep within his eyes. Then his lips curled. He reached out, took the wine glass in his right hand, and with a quick, graceful gesture brought the glass sharply against the inlaid cherrywood surface of the bedside table.
The sound of the glass shattering was loud in the silent room, where Menoly stood beside the wall on the other side of the bed, her face completely blank as the tinkling of shards falling to the floor gradually died away.
Aizen was still holding the stem of the glass, the jagged edges of the bowl glinting in the lamplight. With a dark smile on his face, he took the glass and in one movement brought it against the skin of her breast, a sharp horizontal motion left to right over her chest. The sharp edges tore at her skin, leaving parallel scores over both breasts, like the claws of a great cat. She gasped at the initial, bright shock of the pain, felt liquid begin to trickle down her skin.
Aizen's eyes, so close to hers, gleamed; huge and beautiful, ringed with thick brown lashes, they burned with unholy fire as they gazed at her. His lips were parted in a smile now. He bent his head, and she saw that thick head of hair between her breasts; breathing heavily, she ran her fingers through his hair, stroked his scalp.
The pain from the jagged lacerations in her skin was like fire. And then she felt it; he was drawing his long tongue across her skin, licking up the blood. She exhaled in a sharp, panting moan, trying not to cry out with the pain. Somehow his saliva burned like acid or poison in her wounds, and as he continued, licking up the blood dripping down the pale skin of her breasts, kissing the wounds, she could not help herself.
She screamed. "Aizen-sama," she cried, all her attention locked on the sensation of his mouth moving across the deep, jagged scores across her chest.
Then he took her mouth in his again. This time she tasted the flat coppery tang of her own blood along with the wine, and she returned his kiss avidly. She writhed against his body, feeling her skin tear more as she rubbed it on the silk of his robe, seeing her own blood well out and drip onto his white skin, feeling the pain and pleasure mingle as her heart beat fast and hard, feeling herself grow faint with blood loss and shock, as she lay limp across his body.
Against the wall, Menoly stood still as a statue, her eyes glazed over, her face assiduously neutral.
Aizen looked up at her, eyes lidded, still with that lazy smile. "Oh, Menoly, why don't you join us?"
As she pushed herself up off the wall, moved toward the bed, working hard to hide her disgust, he smiled again. "Do undress yourself, my dear."
As she complied and then climbed on the bed beside him, he handed her the stem of the wineglass with its jagged edges. "Oh, and why don't you help out with this?"
Menoly's eyes widened with shock. Her hand was limp as Aizen closed her fingers around the stem of the glass, guided her hand to Loly's bare skin. She stared at him, unable to move, her hand boneless in his grip, as he stroked downward with the glass and Loly yelped in pain.
"Again," Aizen said, his voice like steel now, "On your own."
Tentatively, the blonde lifted the glass, scraped it over Loly's bare arm. Three faint red lines appeared on Loly's forearm, beaded with bright red drops of blood.
"Oh, you can do better than that." Aizen's voice was light, but she heard the threat beneath the words.
Once more, she raised the glass, scraped harder this time over her friend's ribs. Blood welled and dripped, and Menoly could not look away from her handiwork. She could feel sweat pouring off her body, and she felt shocky and clammy. She raised terrified eyes to Aizen's brown ones, and saw, suddenly, what Loly had been saying.
Aizen was looking at her, intensely, a way he had never looked at her before. He usually only looked through her, as though she were an object, a thing of insignificance so far beneath his notice that his eyes could not even focus on her.
But now, they were alight, glittering and intensely alive, and in their depths, she could see his all-consuming power, his overwhelming strength, his devastating attention suddenly entirely focused on her... and it did something to her deep inside. It was as though a laser beam had reached deep inside to her core and torn out her heart. Her bloody heart lay there between them, captive to his gaze. He held her with his eyes in his beautiful face, with that faint smile on his lips, the eyes of a god gazing down at her.
And with a small whimper she dropped her eyes. Without a word, she lifted the glass, and this time brought it sharply across her own breasts, feeling the pain blossom in her own heart, twin to Loly's.
Trembling, she lifted her eyes back to her god's, saw his smile bloom like the warmth of the sun, felt the despair and the ecstasy trace through her body like poison, as she slowly, slowly bent her head to his chest still smeared with Loly's blood, and began leaving a line of kisses along his leanly muscled body.