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Entry tags:
- 101 kisses,
- 13x5,
- ff7,
- fics,
- gw
[FIC] 101 Kisses: Penance, FF7: Illusionary Contemplation
... I am never going to get NaNo done at this rate.
Penance
Pairing: Treize/Wufei
Themes: #98 – Ashes, #99 – Joy doubled, sorrow halved
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Self-injury.
Words: 866
Summary: “Milliardo had once said that he loved too much, that it was his one fault as a soldier.”
Notes: Post-war slight AU where Treize survived the war.
It was a routine every night ever since they had been together. They were almost like clockwork. Wufei, after dinner, would start for the bathroom, Treize would call him, to remind him, and await him in the bedroom. Await him until his daily ritual in bathroom had finished. However, tonight, he didn’t want to wait, he didn’t want to simply do nothing while his lover, his exquisite, dark dragon harm himself physically and mentally for what he called Penance. No. No more.
He had been the first to find him when the dark-haired boy-man had started his ‘Penance’, and he was shocked, horrified, to see the droplets of red-red-red blood that blossomed like a sickly rose on his arms, the slashes which seemed almost natural, almost as if they belonged. It was terrifying, but not more then the sad-melancholic smile that his lover had bestowed him. He had said, in a matter-of-fact tone ruined by almost-hidden pain, that it was his Penance, for allowing his family to die. Blood was the price for Paradise, he explained while Treize tried to bandage his arm. Blood was the price for Paradise, and I would give my blood, my body, my soul for my colony to have peace.
Treize had tried to deny it, wrapping the bandages almost too tight around too-thin arms. Your clan had died with great honour, he had tried to reassure, they had died together so as not to be dishonoured. They would go to Paradise; they have no need for the blood price. Wufei had simply shook his head, disbelieving. The next day, he found him cutting his arms again, collecting blood in a small goblet made of the purest crystal Treize could find. It was fitting, for the goblet had many facets, and seemed to be cracked when viewed at certain angles. There was no purity and innocence in here. It was not needed.
That night… Treize told him, voice calm but eyes tortured, that there are better ways to achieve forgiveness than to hurt himself. He had almost been trembling when he proposed the idea, smoothing his head back so his dragon would not notice his trembling hands. Wufei hated weaknesses at all forms. Treize would not become something Wufei hated. No, not again.
Milliardo had once said that he loved too much, that it was his one fault as a soldier. He had laughed softly and shook his head. No, no, he replied, smiling, love could never be too much. He had been so confident of himself, of his knowledge of love, then. He found out, in time, that he was wrong, Milliardo was right, again. He was wrong as there was such as loving too much, as feeling the odd, unfamiliar emotions whenever he saw his dragon with a friend. He knew that his dragon loved him, but could he really be sure? Once, he might have said, yes, of course. Now… Now, after the war, the war which was both his ending and his beginning…The fires of war had left none untouched, much less him. His easy self-confidence was gone, burned to ashes and scattered among the sea and carried away by the wind.
He couldn’t bear to see his beautiful dark warrior hurt, and so he gave his dragon a knife and asked him to hurt him. He would do anything for his lover; such was the depth of his love. He loved too deeply, as Milliardo had once noted. He loved so deeply that he was willing to sacrifice his life, his everything to Wufei if he had asked. But he hadn’t, because Wufei was willing also. He knew that his Penance hurt Treize more than this would ever compare. He knew, but it still hurt.
The silver blade of the ornate knife caught the moonlight, illuminating the two lovers as they lay upon the bed, a goblet full of too-red blood on their bedside. Blood was blood. Its origins were inconsequential. It did not matter if blood price exacted was taken from a dark-haired dragon or a fiery-haired knight, as long as it was paid.
They did not know how long does this penance last, they did not know how long they could last, they did not know how long it would be till the physical scars fade. It did not matter. It did not matter, for they knew, somehow, that they would be together. They were willing to harm the other, as the refusal would hurt more. The Knight knew that seeing his Dragon hurt was worst than a thousand knives plunged into his body, a million drops of blood drawn out, drop by drop. It was the pain of the heart to see a lover hurt, and it was always, always more painful than physical ache.
It was the Dragon who first sought Penance, hiding away in shame, as he did not wish to hurt his General-Knight. In the end… Was it really Penance that was gained, or was it something else?
In seeking penance, they found their love to be deeper than anything they knew, anything that they realize. In seeking penance, the sorrow between them was halved, but the joy had doubled.
Owari
Illusionary Contemplation
Author: The Dream Whisperer
Character: Vincent
Rating: PG
Words: 467
Summary: Vincent muses. Title stolen from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shahnichan. Fifteen minute ficlet.
It was odd, in a war, he mused as he stared at the golden metal claw that substituted for his left hand. The fading sunlight fell on it, making it glow in an almost ethereal light. It was the physical manifestation of his sins, yes, but it was also his salvations in some battles. He wondered if it would be better if he never had the arm that he had died during the numerous battles AVALANCHE had engaged in… No, he shook his head. No, for it would be too easy a death for me. Dying in battle simply because his weaponry was not as many as the others was useless. He wanted his death to have a meaning. He did not want to die for nothing.
Vincent shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts. It seemed that his musings had all been melancholic lately, but it wasn’t really surprising. Sephiroth had just been defeated; Holy and Lifestream destroyed Meteor. He was adrift, for his purpose was gone. His one purpose for waking up was to defeat Sephiroth and save the Planet, and that had been accomplished. Should he return to the eternal sleep? Could he atone for his sins this way? He doubted it.
He needed a purpose, needed someone to give him a purpose. He was a piece of driftwood, floating endlessly in the sea until somebody caught him and brought him to use. He seemed to be completely unable to fashion a new purpose for himself. Why? He did not know. He had never actually wanted to know.
So why should he not find a purpose for himself? Vincent stared off to the distance, eyes unseeing as a battle waged behind his mind. Why should he not? He was without a purpose, yes, but he was also free. He was free, and that was all it mattered. There was nothing tying him down to the gloomy Nibelheim mansion, nothing but his conscience and guilt. However, the guilt at not contacting his friends, for wasting his life away was stronger.
Nodding to himself, Vincent allowed a small smile to appear on his thin lips. He recognized that although he had to atone for his sins still, he could not live in the past forever. The past was unchangeable, no matter how much one wanted, needed, to change it. There was only the present and the future to look forward to. He wondered just why did he not recognize the fact earlier.
He turned away from the fading sunset, back towards the mansion. If he was to leave and visit his friends, he needed to pack. Behind him, the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, leaving darkness in its wake. It was the night’s beginning… and, Vincent smirked slightly as he entered the mansion, it was his.
Owari
Cozzy? Can you see if Penance is suitable for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
gw_ozzies? It is in Treize's POV, after all.
Penance
Pairing: Treize/Wufei
Themes: #98 – Ashes, #99 – Joy doubled, sorrow halved
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Self-injury.
Words: 866
Summary: “Milliardo had once said that he loved too much, that it was his one fault as a soldier.”
Notes: Post-war slight AU where Treize survived the war.
It was a routine every night ever since they had been together. They were almost like clockwork. Wufei, after dinner, would start for the bathroom, Treize would call him, to remind him, and await him in the bedroom. Await him until his daily ritual in bathroom had finished. However, tonight, he didn’t want to wait, he didn’t want to simply do nothing while his lover, his exquisite, dark dragon harm himself physically and mentally for what he called Penance. No. No more.
He had been the first to find him when the dark-haired boy-man had started his ‘Penance’, and he was shocked, horrified, to see the droplets of red-red-red blood that blossomed like a sickly rose on his arms, the slashes which seemed almost natural, almost as if they belonged. It was terrifying, but not more then the sad-melancholic smile that his lover had bestowed him. He had said, in a matter-of-fact tone ruined by almost-hidden pain, that it was his Penance, for allowing his family to die. Blood was the price for Paradise, he explained while Treize tried to bandage his arm. Blood was the price for Paradise, and I would give my blood, my body, my soul for my colony to have peace.
Treize had tried to deny it, wrapping the bandages almost too tight around too-thin arms. Your clan had died with great honour, he had tried to reassure, they had died together so as not to be dishonoured. They would go to Paradise; they have no need for the blood price. Wufei had simply shook his head, disbelieving. The next day, he found him cutting his arms again, collecting blood in a small goblet made of the purest crystal Treize could find. It was fitting, for the goblet had many facets, and seemed to be cracked when viewed at certain angles. There was no purity and innocence in here. It was not needed.
That night… Treize told him, voice calm but eyes tortured, that there are better ways to achieve forgiveness than to hurt himself. He had almost been trembling when he proposed the idea, smoothing his head back so his dragon would not notice his trembling hands. Wufei hated weaknesses at all forms. Treize would not become something Wufei hated. No, not again.
Milliardo had once said that he loved too much, that it was his one fault as a soldier. He had laughed softly and shook his head. No, no, he replied, smiling, love could never be too much. He had been so confident of himself, of his knowledge of love, then. He found out, in time, that he was wrong, Milliardo was right, again. He was wrong as there was such as loving too much, as feeling the odd, unfamiliar emotions whenever he saw his dragon with a friend. He knew that his dragon loved him, but could he really be sure? Once, he might have said, yes, of course. Now… Now, after the war, the war which was both his ending and his beginning…The fires of war had left none untouched, much less him. His easy self-confidence was gone, burned to ashes and scattered among the sea and carried away by the wind.
He couldn’t bear to see his beautiful dark warrior hurt, and so he gave his dragon a knife and asked him to hurt him. He would do anything for his lover; such was the depth of his love. He loved too deeply, as Milliardo had once noted. He loved so deeply that he was willing to sacrifice his life, his everything to Wufei if he had asked. But he hadn’t, because Wufei was willing also. He knew that his Penance hurt Treize more than this would ever compare. He knew, but it still hurt.
The silver blade of the ornate knife caught the moonlight, illuminating the two lovers as they lay upon the bed, a goblet full of too-red blood on their bedside. Blood was blood. Its origins were inconsequential. It did not matter if blood price exacted was taken from a dark-haired dragon or a fiery-haired knight, as long as it was paid.
They did not know how long does this penance last, they did not know how long they could last, they did not know how long it would be till the physical scars fade. It did not matter. It did not matter, for they knew, somehow, that they would be together. They were willing to harm the other, as the refusal would hurt more. The Knight knew that seeing his Dragon hurt was worst than a thousand knives plunged into his body, a million drops of blood drawn out, drop by drop. It was the pain of the heart to see a lover hurt, and it was always, always more painful than physical ache.
It was the Dragon who first sought Penance, hiding away in shame, as he did not wish to hurt his General-Knight. In the end… Was it really Penance that was gained, or was it something else?
In seeking penance, they found their love to be deeper than anything they knew, anything that they realize. In seeking penance, the sorrow between them was halved, but the joy had doubled.
Owari
Illusionary Contemplation
Author: The Dream Whisperer
Character: Vincent
Rating: PG
Words: 467
Summary: Vincent muses. Title stolen from
shahnichan. Fifteen minute ficlet.It was odd, in a war, he mused as he stared at the golden metal claw that substituted for his left hand. The fading sunlight fell on it, making it glow in an almost ethereal light. It was the physical manifestation of his sins, yes, but it was also his salvations in some battles. He wondered if it would be better if he never had the arm that he had died during the numerous battles AVALANCHE had engaged in… No, he shook his head. No, for it would be too easy a death for me. Dying in battle simply because his weaponry was not as many as the others was useless. He wanted his death to have a meaning. He did not want to die for nothing.
Vincent shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts. It seemed that his musings had all been melancholic lately, but it wasn’t really surprising. Sephiroth had just been defeated; Holy and Lifestream destroyed Meteor. He was adrift, for his purpose was gone. His one purpose for waking up was to defeat Sephiroth and save the Planet, and that had been accomplished. Should he return to the eternal sleep? Could he atone for his sins this way? He doubted it.
He needed a purpose, needed someone to give him a purpose. He was a piece of driftwood, floating endlessly in the sea until somebody caught him and brought him to use. He seemed to be completely unable to fashion a new purpose for himself. Why? He did not know. He had never actually wanted to know.
So why should he not find a purpose for himself? Vincent stared off to the distance, eyes unseeing as a battle waged behind his mind. Why should he not? He was without a purpose, yes, but he was also free. He was free, and that was all it mattered. There was nothing tying him down to the gloomy Nibelheim mansion, nothing but his conscience and guilt. However, the guilt at not contacting his friends, for wasting his life away was stronger.
Nodding to himself, Vincent allowed a small smile to appear on his thin lips. He recognized that although he had to atone for his sins still, he could not live in the past forever. The past was unchangeable, no matter how much one wanted, needed, to change it. There was only the present and the future to look forward to. He wondered just why did he not recognize the fact earlier.
He turned away from the fading sunset, back towards the mansion. If he was to leave and visit his friends, he needed to pack. Behind him, the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, leaving darkness in its wake. It was the night’s beginning… and, Vincent smirked slightly as he entered the mansion, it was his.
Owari
Cozzy? Can you see if Penance is suitable for
gw_ozzies? It is in Treize's POV, after all.