Title: Silver Chaos
Author: Alexia Torin
Email: Alex_tomiki@Yahoo.com
Disclaimer: If I owned FF7, I would have made an uber-pretty re-make with Seph and Cloud as the main pairing. So, obviously, I don't own it. Please don't sue.
Warnings: AU, yaoi, shonen-ai, OOC-ness, WTF?!-ness, death, NCS, angst, sap, future lemon?, some Aeris bashing, bastard Reno, language, multi-pairings, anything I forgot…
Comments: This is named after a yaoi PC game. I read a two sentence summary of the game, and this idea just hit me like a sledgehammer. Hence the name. Also, be warned, this is very VERY weird and experimental. Comments are appreciated, as is constructive criticism. Flames will be laughed at and for the most part, ignored.
Rating: R-ish.
Pairing(s): The main pairing will be Seph/Cloud. The rest are a secret. ^_^
~~~
Tonight would be a night to remember..
~~~
A boy, or perhaps a young man, as it was so hard to tell in the faint light of the halls, stood hunched over in the doorway. It was impossible to tell his height; his age only guessable because of the way the light reflected off of his boyish face.
Before him was a huge, but darkened room, probably belonging to that of a very wealthy man. The sheer enormity of the room made that fact painfully clear. Add to that the blackened crystals adorned with jewels that hung from the ceiling, the silken curtains and blankets and clothing scattered everywhere, the exotic plants lining the far wall..
Yes, this man was rich.
The boy crept slowly, ever so slowly, into the room. It was obvious that the curtains were shut. Otherwise, he could have looked out of the window, could have ended up transfixed and staring at the silvery moon.
How ironic, that it was full. On tonight of all nights...
Perhaps, this was meant to happen. This was fate, this was destiny...this was right..
Lost in thought, he stumbled, almost falling to one knee and knocking a pile of books askew. Biting back a curse, he prayed to whatever God or higher power that would listen that no one had heard.
Normally, he would have no trouble walking there. The layout of the room was so simple, and he had prepared for so long..
He had memorized, checked, re-checked, and memorized the room again, until he felt it foolish to do it /one/ last time. And still he had almost fallen, had almost ruined everything. Luckily though, the still form in the bed had not moved.
Realizing he was sweating a little, he wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. Blonde bangs fell back into their place after, and he let out a slow breath. Everything would be fine. He could continue.
Later, he would look back on this event and laugh. Of course, it wasn't really his fault he had fumbled. True it was that he had been there, in that room, many times before. But he had never before been there that late, had never seen the room that dark..
And had never had such evil intentions.
Quickly, silently, he padded closer to the bed. His feet rubbed harshly against the carpeted floor, making them burn with the friction it caused. He flexed his toes a few times, and paid the burning sensation no mind.
Ahead of him was his target. Among the red silk sheets, completely unaware.. Probably in the throes of a wonderful dream, were everything was perfect. Soon, he thought, grinning darkly, soon everything /would/ be perfect.
He gripped the dagger in his hand, relishing the feel of the wooden hilt against his heated flesh. What a feeling it was, this power. He felt like a God, a master puppeteer. He would decide the fate of so many. Not only himself and his prey, but also an entire world of people, would be affected by his actions. It felt so /good/..
The boy quickened his pace, sure now that his target would not awaken. He would /not/ wake up. This was how it was meant to be.
The room truly /was/ huge, it felt like he would never reach the bed. He did though, eventually. A silent sigh of relief was his only celebration.
Carefully, ever so carefully, he reached over and pulled the sheets down. The silk slid easily over the sleeping form, finally revealing...
His father.
The boy scowled down at the lumpy form in the bed. How horrible the Gods had been to him, to have him be related to this man. He was a fool, a complete and utter idiot, not fit to run a kingdom at all…
The boy ran a hand through his hair, wondering how his father /really/ had come to be the leader of their kingdom. The tale told to him was that his father had beaten the previous king in a long and valiant battle.
Looking at the fat, over-weight man now, well.. It didn't seem as believable.
The boy raised the knife over the sleeping form, aiming for the heart. It would be a quick death, almost painless. By morning, it would be announced to the people that the old king had died peacefully in his sleep.
Such a fitting end.
The boy hesitated for a moment, pondering what tomorrow would really bring. His father would be dead, and he would become king, but what then? Would the people accept him? Would they follow him as they had followed his father? They would probably see him unfit as a leader at first. He /was/ barely seventeen..
He snickered softly. It really didn't matter. Unlike his father, /he/ wouldn't give the people a choice. That was another reason he hated the old man so much. His father had been foolish in thinking he could actually rule a country with trust. He used money, he spoke to them outright, he made them love him..
And he refused to try and expand the kingdom.
No matter how hard his own /son/ begged him, no matter what his top advisors told him, the stubborn old bastard would do /nothing/ to help his country grow. He had many an opportunity, to go to war with the humans. The Oni could have become powerful, more powerful than the human kings, could have completely tipped the scale. Instead of being the lowly demons, banished to dying lands, they could have been the leaders of the entire world!
But, alas, it wasn't to be. His father /would not/ go to war.
All of that would change now. He would bring about a new era. Oni would be in power again.
The second time he did not hesitate.
Blood, tons of it, blossomed from the wound in the old mans chest. It seeped into the silken sheets, darkening their color to a rich, wet black. The smell of it, the /taste/ of it, filled the air. Coppery, tangy, and oh so sweet...
"Rufus! Where /are/ you?!"
Rufus turned at the sound of the female voice just outside the room. His slightly pointed ears twitched, blue eyes contracting in fear at the thought of being caught and pinned as the murderer. For all his hard work to be ruined...
It scared him.
He hastily called back, moving towards the door, trying to get as far away from the body of his father as possible.
"I'm in here, Jenova. Don't worry. I'm just saying goodnight to my Father. I'll be out in a minute."
Hastily he ran from the room, turning back only to ease the door closed.
Rufus left the knife where it was. It was no longer of any use to him.
Author: Alexia Torin
Email: Alex_tomiki@Yahoo.com
Disclaimer: If I owned FF7, I would have made an uber-pretty re-make with Seph and Cloud as the main pairing. So, obviously, I don't own it. Please don't sue.
Warnings: AU, yaoi, shonen-ai, OOC-ness, WTF?!-ness, death, NCS, angst, sap, future lemon?, some Aeris bashing, bastard Reno, language, multi-pairings, anything I forgot…
Comments: This is named after a yaoi PC game. I read a two sentence summary of the game, and this idea just hit me like a sledgehammer. Hence the name. Also, be warned, this is very VERY weird and experimental. Comments are appreciated, as is constructive criticism. Flames will be laughed at and for the most part, ignored.
Rating: R-ish.
Pairing(s): The main pairing will be Seph/Cloud. The rest are a secret. ^_^
~~~
Tonight would be a night to remember..
~~~
A boy, or perhaps a young man, as it was so hard to tell in the faint light of the halls, stood hunched over in the doorway. It was impossible to tell his height; his age only guessable because of the way the light reflected off of his boyish face.
Before him was a huge, but darkened room, probably belonging to that of a very wealthy man. The sheer enormity of the room made that fact painfully clear. Add to that the blackened crystals adorned with jewels that hung from the ceiling, the silken curtains and blankets and clothing scattered everywhere, the exotic plants lining the far wall..
Yes, this man was rich.
The boy crept slowly, ever so slowly, into the room. It was obvious that the curtains were shut. Otherwise, he could have looked out of the window, could have ended up transfixed and staring at the silvery moon.
How ironic, that it was full. On tonight of all nights...
Perhaps, this was meant to happen. This was fate, this was destiny...this was right..
Lost in thought, he stumbled, almost falling to one knee and knocking a pile of books askew. Biting back a curse, he prayed to whatever God or higher power that would listen that no one had heard.
Normally, he would have no trouble walking there. The layout of the room was so simple, and he had prepared for so long..
He had memorized, checked, re-checked, and memorized the room again, until he felt it foolish to do it /one/ last time. And still he had almost fallen, had almost ruined everything. Luckily though, the still form in the bed had not moved.
Realizing he was sweating a little, he wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. Blonde bangs fell back into their place after, and he let out a slow breath. Everything would be fine. He could continue.
Later, he would look back on this event and laugh. Of course, it wasn't really his fault he had fumbled. True it was that he had been there, in that room, many times before. But he had never before been there that late, had never seen the room that dark..
And had never had such evil intentions.
Quickly, silently, he padded closer to the bed. His feet rubbed harshly against the carpeted floor, making them burn with the friction it caused. He flexed his toes a few times, and paid the burning sensation no mind.
Ahead of him was his target. Among the red silk sheets, completely unaware.. Probably in the throes of a wonderful dream, were everything was perfect. Soon, he thought, grinning darkly, soon everything /would/ be perfect.
He gripped the dagger in his hand, relishing the feel of the wooden hilt against his heated flesh. What a feeling it was, this power. He felt like a God, a master puppeteer. He would decide the fate of so many. Not only himself and his prey, but also an entire world of people, would be affected by his actions. It felt so /good/..
The boy quickened his pace, sure now that his target would not awaken. He would /not/ wake up. This was how it was meant to be.
The room truly /was/ huge, it felt like he would never reach the bed. He did though, eventually. A silent sigh of relief was his only celebration.
Carefully, ever so carefully, he reached over and pulled the sheets down. The silk slid easily over the sleeping form, finally revealing...
His father.
The boy scowled down at the lumpy form in the bed. How horrible the Gods had been to him, to have him be related to this man. He was a fool, a complete and utter idiot, not fit to run a kingdom at all…
The boy ran a hand through his hair, wondering how his father /really/ had come to be the leader of their kingdom. The tale told to him was that his father had beaten the previous king in a long and valiant battle.
Looking at the fat, over-weight man now, well.. It didn't seem as believable.
The boy raised the knife over the sleeping form, aiming for the heart. It would be a quick death, almost painless. By morning, it would be announced to the people that the old king had died peacefully in his sleep.
Such a fitting end.
The boy hesitated for a moment, pondering what tomorrow would really bring. His father would be dead, and he would become king, but what then? Would the people accept him? Would they follow him as they had followed his father? They would probably see him unfit as a leader at first. He /was/ barely seventeen..
He snickered softly. It really didn't matter. Unlike his father, /he/ wouldn't give the people a choice. That was another reason he hated the old man so much. His father had been foolish in thinking he could actually rule a country with trust. He used money, he spoke to them outright, he made them love him..
And he refused to try and expand the kingdom.
No matter how hard his own /son/ begged him, no matter what his top advisors told him, the stubborn old bastard would do /nothing/ to help his country grow. He had many an opportunity, to go to war with the humans. The Oni could have become powerful, more powerful than the human kings, could have completely tipped the scale. Instead of being the lowly demons, banished to dying lands, they could have been the leaders of the entire world!
But, alas, it wasn't to be. His father /would not/ go to war.
All of that would change now. He would bring about a new era. Oni would be in power again.
The second time he did not hesitate.
Blood, tons of it, blossomed from the wound in the old mans chest. It seeped into the silken sheets, darkening their color to a rich, wet black. The smell of it, the /taste/ of it, filled the air. Coppery, tangy, and oh so sweet...
"Rufus! Where /are/ you?!"
Rufus turned at the sound of the female voice just outside the room. His slightly pointed ears twitched, blue eyes contracting in fear at the thought of being caught and pinned as the murderer. For all his hard work to be ruined...
It scared him.
He hastily called back, moving towards the door, trying to get as far away from the body of his father as possible.
"I'm in here, Jenova. Don't worry. I'm just saying goodnight to my Father. I'll be out in a minute."
Hastily he ran from the room, turning back only to ease the door closed.
Rufus left the knife where it was. It was no longer of any use to him.