Of Gods And Of Monsters
folder
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
867
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
867
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Of Demons And Of Angels
Warnings: Yaoi as always.
Pairing: Just read and find out.
Disclaimer: Square Enix characters ^_^ Song is The Crimson by Atreyu.
For Aniki, gods knows he doesn’t get enough vampire ass, maybe this will satiate him for five minutes. ^_~
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
The Crimson
I feel it welling up inside and Robert Smith lied
Boys do cry and with blood tears in my eyes
I'm an Anne Rice novel come to life
I can't hide the monster anymore
Weapons clashed, matching intelligence masked by a dispassionate look. Expressions that seemed unemotional to any audience that dared happen upon the Demon and his Angel, but they read each other well. The minute tic of muscle before movement beneath black and red, the barest shimmer of thought before action behind frozen eyes.
One can only feel desolate for so long
Until one starts to change
Into something the mirror doesn't recognize
I metamorphasize
The smallest inaccuracy could cause death for good or evil, one imperfection could cost a life. The dance was much older than any ancient form of love-making, since the blood of man had stained the earth; the act of pain. Weapons were discarded, the Angel’s movement no more than a flutter in the Demon’s eyes, but they knew each other well, too well, as the sun knew the moon; neither supposed to touch, the outcome would be catastrophe. Yet slender limbs flew through the air, pale skin marred with the thinnest of oozing cuts, the faintest of colored bruises, until they met. It was catastrophe in it’s supreme excellence.
The darkness has been biding its time
To claim its latest victim
Fresh meat for carnal desires
To become what I became
I viewed the sun for the last time
Moonbeams the faintest of silver, pasted to flesh too pale to be anything but porcelain, and oh how the Demon longed to break his Angel‘s beautiful pallor. Nails bit through skin and spilt red upon red, the Demon’s eyes would flash the deepest of crimsons before the offending limb was seized and forced back behind the Angel’s head, pinned roughly to a tree, who’s silver beauty failed in comparison to the beauty’s holy grace. Gold, sharp as needles bit into the silvery bark, holding the Angel captive by one wrist; but the Angel was more of a Demon than that of the Demon himself, fighting tooth and nail to free himself from the fiend’s grip. Long, graceful fingers drew moonbeam strands of silk away from the Seraph’s emerald gaze. Beauty in it’s finest, to be tainted by the Demon’s touch.
Will you still hold me when you see what I have done?
Will you still kiss me the same when you taste my victim's blood?
So crimson and red, I feel it flowing from your lips
The fierce emerald gaze of the Demon’s Angel met crimson eyes, and both opposites knew that the Seraph would fight very little now that he was caught; it was always the same, pressure on wrists grew, the first limb was joined by the second and the white Angel was pinned, controlled, owned fully by his Demon. Lips crushed together, teeth clashed, the sharp edge of fangs sunk entirely through the Angel’s full lower lip and drew a keening cry from his lips; the Demon only lapped at the flow of blood until it ceased with a bestial purr. The Seraph would bite back, blunt teeth only bruising the Demon’s lips before tongues clashed for a mock-duel. Raven strands, the darkest of midnight curtained around and secluded the Angel’s features from sight. The expressions that lit the man’s face belonged only to the Demon, those who shared such a perfect and tainted sight of the bloodstained lips that gasped for breath would be wiped from existence.
My heart is dead and so are you
And it pulses through, the desire to change
The desire to deconstruct all of my past failings
But where to begin because when you live in sin
Crimson that dulled in comparison to the Demon’s eyes dropped to the ground, a matching colored band of material was pulled from locks of unholy black, unleashing them into a waterfall across almost feminine shoulders. The material twisted around the Angel’s wrists, knotting tightly before hands were freed to roam as they pleased over the Seraph’s chest. Gold, glinting like the sharpest of knives cut through the material that hid the Angel from the Demon’s view; eventually the material fell, following the Demon’s lock’s example and cascaded from pale, moonbeam-infused flesh to the green grass below. Small trails of red lit upon the glowing expanse of bared skin where the fiend’s touch had burned the Seraph. Silvery wisps tugged roughly backwards, exposing the slender, supple neck to the Demon’s gaze. Lips brushed casually across the skin, the Angel’s breath caught in his chest and stayed there for what seemed like an eternity before razor-sharp fangs bit sharply through the porcelain that seemed to glow faintly under the mere touch of the fiend. When the sharp incisors were withdrawn from the skin; only moments after actually breaking it, as the Demon wouldn’t allow himself more than the lightest tasting of the Angel’s blood; two marks, looking faintly like the only other imperfections that marred the Seraph. Many sets of twin scars scattered across shoulders and the firm column of flesh, the Demon’s marks.
It's hard to look at saints without them
Reflecting their jet black auras back on you
And all I have is hope, my inner burn's not fading
I'll wipe the blood from my cheek and get on with my day
Slowly both Demon and Angel were bared to their opposites’ eyes, skin so pale melded with skin that glowed as the Seraph was pinned by his fiend against the silvery tree, wrists remaining above his head, held together by that damnable strip of crimson material. Lips sought out lips in another violent clash of domineering, neither wanting to back down, but both knowing that once again the Angel would fall pray to the sin of the Demon that held him. Nails bit into the backs of thighs as the Seraph’s small weight was supported by the fiend’s hold, raising him and pinning him against the bark. Three slim digits were pressed to the Angel’s lips, “Suck.” The Demon gave an animalistic growl, the precious woodland creatures and imps alike sent running in fear of their very lives. The Seraph’s eyes glinted and he took a nip at the fingers before seemingly unwillingly drawing the fingers into his mouth; the Demon smirked at the attitude his Angel had shown. Saliva-laved digits were slowly withdrawn from the warm orifice to seek out another that was just begging to be invaded. The Angel’s head pressed against the bark, back arching away from it in the same movement as one finger invaded the Seraph’s body. The Demon smirked, the first finger joined swiftly by the second and third; unwilling to let the invaded passage adjust too fully to the girth of the digits and lose the soft, pained mewls that would leave the Angel’s lips.
And all I have is hope, and all I need is time
To bury in pine under six feet of time
The lies I told me about myself
Claw my way out, pick the splinters from under my fingernails
Fingers were withdrawn, digging fingernails into the Angel’s hips, and the fiend offered up only the barest moment for his opposite to deny the pleasure that they both wanted. Hips shifted and thrust sharply; the Seraph gave a scream and clawed at the tree behind him, desperately attempting to rid himself of the white hot pain that threatened to split him in two. The Demon wasn’t at all worried at the response, even giving a bloodstained grin as hips shifted roughly, each minuscule movement of his cock sending his Angel into new bouts of agony despite the preparation that was given. Golden tips of metal pierced through the Seraph’s hip; adding whole new torment to what he was already experiencing. The act was always, and would always be painful, or no ecstasy would be found by neither the good or evil embodiments. Eventually the fiend discarded all caring for what pain he may cause his angelic lover and began to move, thrusting hard within the heated confines. The smell of coppery blood rose to the Demon’s nose, and he smirked in his contentment, tongue seeking out the twin puncture wounds from only moments before, then moving to share the Angel’s blood with the Angel himself. Ultimately both Angel and Demon began moving together, the Seraph lowering his arms to curl his bound limbs around the fiend’s neck. Screams echoed through the silence surrounding them as the Angel began pushing down into the Demon’s brutal thrusts; tears tainting the porcelain skin, shattering the unemotional façade. The Demon growled with satisfaction at his Angel’s reactions, hand of flesh and bone moving between them to lay the barest of caresses over the perfect one’s erection, drawing the faintest of moans intermingling with the pained cries that still left the Angel’s lips despite the pleasure that was beginning to overturn the pain that he’d been subjected to. Emerald and ruby clasped and lips were brought forcefully back together, gazes never parting; icy eyes melted with emotion, the Angel’s in the form of tears that drifted down flushed cheeks and tainted their kiss with salt. Love and hate blended, both Demon and Angel finding a suitable gray between such black and white areas. Enemies and lovers, pleasure and pain clashed and fused together, creating the perfect abyss that the Angel fell into willingly, dragging the Demon down with him. Another earth-shattering cry left the Angel’s lips as he coated the Demon’s hand in his essence, feeling the rough movements of the other’s hips freeze and slow as the Angel‘s body burned with the tainted seed of his lover; the Demon was silent in his pleasure, masking his vocalizing against the Seraph’s marred shoulder. The smallest choked gasp left the Angel’s lips as the Demon withdrew and let the Angel sink to the ground, looking unconcerned with the beauty’s weakness.
I won't lose hope, I won't give in
Just live and breathe and try not to die again
The fiend gave a small sneer at the delicate trembling of the enemy’s skin, but slowly sunk to his knees and unbound the Seraph’s wrists, the Demon gently cradling the slender angelic creature in his lap and drawing a crimson cloak up and around the both of them. Lips caressed lips in a parting kiss, faint smiles and emotional glances were shared; both knew that they were each other’s only reprieve from the demand of unconditional impassive that was ordered of both. Fingertips stroked sweat-stained skin and they settled back in each other’s warmth, “Thank you, Vincent..” The Angel whispered gently, pillowing his head against his Demon’s shoulder, who smirked tiredly and reclined against the tree, “You’re welcome, Yazu..” He whispered in return, stroking the moonbeam infused strands from his lover’s expressive eyes, “You’ll have to go back to Strife..” Yazu whispered bitterly, his eyes drooping lazily, “And you to Kadaj..” Neither of them where happy with the cards fate had dealt them. Fingers interlaced beneath the crimson cloak and they let out a simultaneous breath, “…After it’s over..?” Yazu whispered suddenly, lifting his head from Vincent’s shoulder. “…Then we’ll disappear together.” The Demon whispered to his Angel, who gave his last show of emotion in a loving smile, “..I can’t wait.” And with that, both settled for a few hours rest before they would find themselves back in the imperfect lives that fate had given them.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
...By the gods am I tired.
Hope you like it. Review and feed the starving muses.
Pairing: Just read and find out.
Disclaimer: Square Enix characters ^_^ Song is The Crimson by Atreyu.
For Aniki, gods knows he doesn’t get enough vampire ass, maybe this will satiate him for five minutes. ^_~
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
The Crimson
I feel it welling up inside and Robert Smith lied
Boys do cry and with blood tears in my eyes
I'm an Anne Rice novel come to life
I can't hide the monster anymore
Weapons clashed, matching intelligence masked by a dispassionate look. Expressions that seemed unemotional to any audience that dared happen upon the Demon and his Angel, but they read each other well. The minute tic of muscle before movement beneath black and red, the barest shimmer of thought before action behind frozen eyes.
One can only feel desolate for so long
Until one starts to change
Into something the mirror doesn't recognize
I metamorphasize
The smallest inaccuracy could cause death for good or evil, one imperfection could cost a life. The dance was much older than any ancient form of love-making, since the blood of man had stained the earth; the act of pain. Weapons were discarded, the Angel’s movement no more than a flutter in the Demon’s eyes, but they knew each other well, too well, as the sun knew the moon; neither supposed to touch, the outcome would be catastrophe. Yet slender limbs flew through the air, pale skin marred with the thinnest of oozing cuts, the faintest of colored bruises, until they met. It was catastrophe in it’s supreme excellence.
The darkness has been biding its time
To claim its latest victim
Fresh meat for carnal desires
To become what I became
I viewed the sun for the last time
Moonbeams the faintest of silver, pasted to flesh too pale to be anything but porcelain, and oh how the Demon longed to break his Angel‘s beautiful pallor. Nails bit through skin and spilt red upon red, the Demon’s eyes would flash the deepest of crimsons before the offending limb was seized and forced back behind the Angel’s head, pinned roughly to a tree, who’s silver beauty failed in comparison to the beauty’s holy grace. Gold, sharp as needles bit into the silvery bark, holding the Angel captive by one wrist; but the Angel was more of a Demon than that of the Demon himself, fighting tooth and nail to free himself from the fiend’s grip. Long, graceful fingers drew moonbeam strands of silk away from the Seraph’s emerald gaze. Beauty in it’s finest, to be tainted by the Demon’s touch.
Will you still hold me when you see what I have done?
Will you still kiss me the same when you taste my victim's blood?
So crimson and red, I feel it flowing from your lips
The fierce emerald gaze of the Demon’s Angel met crimson eyes, and both opposites knew that the Seraph would fight very little now that he was caught; it was always the same, pressure on wrists grew, the first limb was joined by the second and the white Angel was pinned, controlled, owned fully by his Demon. Lips crushed together, teeth clashed, the sharp edge of fangs sunk entirely through the Angel’s full lower lip and drew a keening cry from his lips; the Demon only lapped at the flow of blood until it ceased with a bestial purr. The Seraph would bite back, blunt teeth only bruising the Demon’s lips before tongues clashed for a mock-duel. Raven strands, the darkest of midnight curtained around and secluded the Angel’s features from sight. The expressions that lit the man’s face belonged only to the Demon, those who shared such a perfect and tainted sight of the bloodstained lips that gasped for breath would be wiped from existence.
My heart is dead and so are you
And it pulses through, the desire to change
The desire to deconstruct all of my past failings
But where to begin because when you live in sin
Crimson that dulled in comparison to the Demon’s eyes dropped to the ground, a matching colored band of material was pulled from locks of unholy black, unleashing them into a waterfall across almost feminine shoulders. The material twisted around the Angel’s wrists, knotting tightly before hands were freed to roam as they pleased over the Seraph’s chest. Gold, glinting like the sharpest of knives cut through the material that hid the Angel from the Demon’s view; eventually the material fell, following the Demon’s lock’s example and cascaded from pale, moonbeam-infused flesh to the green grass below. Small trails of red lit upon the glowing expanse of bared skin where the fiend’s touch had burned the Seraph. Silvery wisps tugged roughly backwards, exposing the slender, supple neck to the Demon’s gaze. Lips brushed casually across the skin, the Angel’s breath caught in his chest and stayed there for what seemed like an eternity before razor-sharp fangs bit sharply through the porcelain that seemed to glow faintly under the mere touch of the fiend. When the sharp incisors were withdrawn from the skin; only moments after actually breaking it, as the Demon wouldn’t allow himself more than the lightest tasting of the Angel’s blood; two marks, looking faintly like the only other imperfections that marred the Seraph. Many sets of twin scars scattered across shoulders and the firm column of flesh, the Demon’s marks.
It's hard to look at saints without them
Reflecting their jet black auras back on you
And all I have is hope, my inner burn's not fading
I'll wipe the blood from my cheek and get on with my day
Slowly both Demon and Angel were bared to their opposites’ eyes, skin so pale melded with skin that glowed as the Seraph was pinned by his fiend against the silvery tree, wrists remaining above his head, held together by that damnable strip of crimson material. Lips sought out lips in another violent clash of domineering, neither wanting to back down, but both knowing that once again the Angel would fall pray to the sin of the Demon that held him. Nails bit into the backs of thighs as the Seraph’s small weight was supported by the fiend’s hold, raising him and pinning him against the bark. Three slim digits were pressed to the Angel’s lips, “Suck.” The Demon gave an animalistic growl, the precious woodland creatures and imps alike sent running in fear of their very lives. The Seraph’s eyes glinted and he took a nip at the fingers before seemingly unwillingly drawing the fingers into his mouth; the Demon smirked at the attitude his Angel had shown. Saliva-laved digits were slowly withdrawn from the warm orifice to seek out another that was just begging to be invaded. The Angel’s head pressed against the bark, back arching away from it in the same movement as one finger invaded the Seraph’s body. The Demon smirked, the first finger joined swiftly by the second and third; unwilling to let the invaded passage adjust too fully to the girth of the digits and lose the soft, pained mewls that would leave the Angel’s lips.
And all I have is hope, and all I need is time
To bury in pine under six feet of time
The lies I told me about myself
Claw my way out, pick the splinters from under my fingernails
Fingers were withdrawn, digging fingernails into the Angel’s hips, and the fiend offered up only the barest moment for his opposite to deny the pleasure that they both wanted. Hips shifted and thrust sharply; the Seraph gave a scream and clawed at the tree behind him, desperately attempting to rid himself of the white hot pain that threatened to split him in two. The Demon wasn’t at all worried at the response, even giving a bloodstained grin as hips shifted roughly, each minuscule movement of his cock sending his Angel into new bouts of agony despite the preparation that was given. Golden tips of metal pierced through the Seraph’s hip; adding whole new torment to what he was already experiencing. The act was always, and would always be painful, or no ecstasy would be found by neither the good or evil embodiments. Eventually the fiend discarded all caring for what pain he may cause his angelic lover and began to move, thrusting hard within the heated confines. The smell of coppery blood rose to the Demon’s nose, and he smirked in his contentment, tongue seeking out the twin puncture wounds from only moments before, then moving to share the Angel’s blood with the Angel himself. Ultimately both Angel and Demon began moving together, the Seraph lowering his arms to curl his bound limbs around the fiend’s neck. Screams echoed through the silence surrounding them as the Angel began pushing down into the Demon’s brutal thrusts; tears tainting the porcelain skin, shattering the unemotional façade. The Demon growled with satisfaction at his Angel’s reactions, hand of flesh and bone moving between them to lay the barest of caresses over the perfect one’s erection, drawing the faintest of moans intermingling with the pained cries that still left the Angel’s lips despite the pleasure that was beginning to overturn the pain that he’d been subjected to. Emerald and ruby clasped and lips were brought forcefully back together, gazes never parting; icy eyes melted with emotion, the Angel’s in the form of tears that drifted down flushed cheeks and tainted their kiss with salt. Love and hate blended, both Demon and Angel finding a suitable gray between such black and white areas. Enemies and lovers, pleasure and pain clashed and fused together, creating the perfect abyss that the Angel fell into willingly, dragging the Demon down with him. Another earth-shattering cry left the Angel’s lips as he coated the Demon’s hand in his essence, feeling the rough movements of the other’s hips freeze and slow as the Angel‘s body burned with the tainted seed of his lover; the Demon was silent in his pleasure, masking his vocalizing against the Seraph’s marred shoulder. The smallest choked gasp left the Angel’s lips as the Demon withdrew and let the Angel sink to the ground, looking unconcerned with the beauty’s weakness.
I won't lose hope, I won't give in
Just live and breathe and try not to die again
The fiend gave a small sneer at the delicate trembling of the enemy’s skin, but slowly sunk to his knees and unbound the Seraph’s wrists, the Demon gently cradling the slender angelic creature in his lap and drawing a crimson cloak up and around the both of them. Lips caressed lips in a parting kiss, faint smiles and emotional glances were shared; both knew that they were each other’s only reprieve from the demand of unconditional impassive that was ordered of both. Fingertips stroked sweat-stained skin and they settled back in each other’s warmth, “Thank you, Vincent..” The Angel whispered gently, pillowing his head against his Demon’s shoulder, who smirked tiredly and reclined against the tree, “You’re welcome, Yazu..” He whispered in return, stroking the moonbeam infused strands from his lover’s expressive eyes, “You’ll have to go back to Strife..” Yazu whispered bitterly, his eyes drooping lazily, “And you to Kadaj..” Neither of them where happy with the cards fate had dealt them. Fingers interlaced beneath the crimson cloak and they let out a simultaneous breath, “…After it’s over..?” Yazu whispered suddenly, lifting his head from Vincent’s shoulder. “…Then we’ll disappear together.” The Demon whispered to his Angel, who gave his last show of emotion in a loving smile, “..I can’t wait.” And with that, both settled for a few hours rest before they would find themselves back in the imperfect lives that fate had given them.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
...By the gods am I tired.
Hope you like it. Review and feed the starving muses.