Author’s Note: salut everyone! Jeez it’s been awhile since I’ve written something. And what is my wonderful excuse? Hue, I’ve been reading/catching up on Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) and basically going out with my friends. Hey, it’s summer, I can have a life now- sorta. But I was really in the mood to write something, and since I’ve been listening and lire to mediums that have been nothing but depressing and dark- here’s the song-fic I prepared for y’all! This one-shot will be about Musa and her feelings towards Riven (I do NOT like this ship, so be warned). The song that I used is “Vortex” par The GazettE. I hope toi like.
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“Malice that keeps deepening wounds so they can’t be erased for the seconde time.”

Musa was tired of it. Actually, no. She wasn’t tired of just an it, for this it had a name, and that name happened to be Riven. She was tired of how big of an ego he had; she was tired of how he constantly picked fights with her; she was tired of how often she would find him staring at other girls; she was tired of how big of an inconsiderate douchebag he is.

At first, she had learn to tolerate him, for everyone he knew told her that that was just his “way”, it was just his “personality.” She wasn’t usually one to judge, but his Friends coming up to her and simply saying one of those words to explain his erratic behavior, was really starting to drive her insane.

He had been rude to her since jour one, and though he later tried to play the ‘guilty card’ and attempted to make up for his actions, what he had done only furthered Musa’s anger towards him and the scars that he had begun carving into her heart. It didn’t matter how many fleurs he sent, ou how many apologies he uttered, what was done was done, and those memories could not be erased.

“Vortex of beats turning into distortion. Dancing in nausea.”

Due to her relationship, her Friends started to noticed a change in her attitude and her music. Musa would usually composer songs that were hip and fun and something that everyone listening to could dance to. Now her compositions were dark and gloomy, and were usually filled with much plus guitars and gritty sound effects and distortion.

It made the air around it heavy and thick, as if it would suffocate all those who dare listened to it. The beats would lull and screw into their skulls, dancing inside their head like some twisted ballet. The notes would tingle their senses and make it seem like they were standing on the edge of oblivion, feeling complete and utter hopelessness as all light seemed to drain from their life.

musique is a dit to be a reflection of the soul, a gateway into the minds of artists. It was obvious that Musa had become overwhelmed par stress and torment.

“Right before my eyes, the world that decayed. Right before my eyes, toi murder somebody.”

Musa had become almost lifeless, as if she were merely a puppet to be dragged along par its string par its master. Her deep blue eyes that once shone with life, were merely damp pools, void of emotion.

The world had Lost its color, its beauty, its musique that it once held. Everything seemed to wither and die whenever she would walk the streets of Magix with Riven; ou prowl the hallways of Alfea with Riven. The world would seem to shrink away from them, the pavement looking as if it might crack and engulf them into the fiery pits below; the walls looking as if the might crumble away, allowing whatever harsh elements to have their way with them.

Yet, Musa kept on going. She really didn’t understand why. She knew she was unhappy, but she just couldn’t bring herself to leave. Musa thought that maybe since all of her Friends had someone, that she should still stay with Riven- so she would be viewed as ‘happy’ and ‘normal’ as the rest of the girls she hung out with.

Though, the plus Musa thought about it, the plus she assume that maybe her old, rebellious self, that actually cared about her self-worth had gone. That Riven had merely sullied and murdered her once they had started to get ‘serious’. It made sense to her, seeing as how the only color she would occasional glimpse would be red.

Red; the color of fiery passion and blood.

“Keep falling into a dark, dark, darkness.”

Musa was falling and there was no way to stop herself. Musa was falling and there was no one to save her. Musa was falling and there was nothing she could do about it.

She wanted to appear happy; she wanted to montrer everyone that she was normal too. She could have a boyfriend and have a relationship, just like everyone else. But the farther she fell, the harder it was to bounce back. It was becoming plus and plus difficult for her to keep up this lie- this facade that she had tried so desperately to keep up.

The darkness was beckoning to her, whispering sweet nothings and promising that everything would be alright. That everything would eventually take a turn for the better, as long as she kept falling- as long as she did not change.

“I don’t wanna become the fucking garbage like you.”

But Musa had now grown tired of it; of Riven, of the darkness, of relationships- all of it. It all seemed so pointless, now that she thought about it. She had almost Lost her soul, her will to fight because of this man. But she was Musa, dammit, and she could do better than this. She knew she could.

That spark had returned, and the world seemed to brighten. It was going to take some time to get her life back, and to get herself back on track. She didn’t want to become amer and lonely- like Riven had obviously become. So she was starting over, awakening as a new woman.