Red ribbons. Tying together limbs and kisses and tiny little moans and oddly the color of blood. The color of cherry blossoms and lust. Of life and betrayal. Of manipulation.

This touching - it was nothing more than a stepping-stone. One step closer to complete control and domination in the long run. It meant nothing. It felt good, it felt damn good, but it meant nothing.

Marluxia knew this. Demyx knew this. Everyone in the goddamn Organization knew this.

It was fucking, plain and simple. But each time the ribbons wrapped tighter and his touch became harder, it felt like it was getting closer to feeling. Not that of love, no, no. Never love. Marluxia felt no love or devotion to anything but himself. It was not completion, either.

No, it felt like complete pompousness, if anything. Proud of how the water-bender stretched and squirmed under him. How he trashed and moaned with every touch, every kiss, every thrust.

The ribbons got tighter.

It was hard to breathe with so much contact, so much fucking ribbons stringing around them. He could feel his lungs straining for oxygen, and knew they would have none until it was over. It made him smile and he had no clue as to why.

Number IX would be his. Just like the Organization, Kingdom Hearts, the World.

Everything would be his. Not necessarily in this way, but they would be.

It felt so damn warm, the legs and arms wrapping around him with more cursed ribbons. The spiky blond hair rested against his shoulder as more moans came from those lips, more taken breath.

Tighter and tighter and tighter. Almost bone crushing. Whether the ribbons were truly there or a figment of his manic need to dominate everything was not questioned - he could feel it enough.

Through all this touching and fucking, he couldn't help but notice how red the ribbons were. Like cherry blossoms. Fitting, really.

They always said that the cherry blossoms were so enchanting, they were known to drive men mad…