All right everyone, I fixed it, edited it, and made it all pertiful, so I
hope you guys are cool with it and it sounds better than it first did!
It's still depressing, it still sounds weird, but all the better to eat my
muses with, ne? Oh, please, R&R, C&C greatly welcomed. I LIVE OFF
FEEDBACK! All flames will be posted in my next fic and laughed at. ^_^!
Peace out!
Title: Porcelain
Author: Ruka-chan
Archived: Fanfiction.net My name there is FuZzYyBitch Please ask to archive elsewhere.
Disclaimers: I don't own GW, but in my own little mind I do. The song "Porcelain" is owned by Red Hot Chili Peppers, though one day, when I rule the world, I will own that song and Gundam as well. *Evil grin*
Notes: Oddness is at the end. I kind of get attacked by my muses and a Chibi-Quatre and a Chibi-Trowa. I'm warning you. And one of the line of the song "Porcelain" has been altered. It's originally "Do you have the Moon in your womb" but I changed it to fit the story better. Also I added in a extra "Little Lune" part by accident, but oh well. And I wrote this a LONG time ago! Probably over last summer while chillin in Minnesota in the most hillbilly town possible. Them thar rednecks! Most Minnesotans aren't bad…just the town…*shivers*. Anyways, this is one of my older works and really really horrible and has a really annoying writing style. Sorry, I'm horrible when critiquing myself.
Warnings: Angst, shounen ai (I think I spelled that right). Deathfic.
Pairings: 3+4
Key: 'Thoughts' /Song lines\ *Emphasis* ~~~~ Scene breaks
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
/Porcelain....\
Trowa's eyes never left the blond haired, pale skinned Arabian as he wound his way slowly through the large library and bookshelves. Pretending to keep his green eyes on the book in front of him, the enigmatic circus man watched the quiet boy as he gazed upon the rims of the books with a quiet, melancholy look he never had in front of others. If he would have known Trowa's watchful eyes studied him, Quatre would never have let the happy sparkle from his eyes....
/Are you wasting away in your skin?\
Quatra never noticed when Trowa watched him. Or maybe he did, but never let the green eyed man notice. Now the boy just stared out at the stars with such a depressed look. Day after day the happiness became more openly fake, and the sadness more and more overwhelming. It seemed none of the others noticed the quick decent from the happy Quatre they once knew to the depressed, sad boy he had become. Resting his cheek upon a knee, Quatre's blue eyes gazed out to the land below him with a sigh of loneliness. He never did notice when Trowa would stand there, his eyes on his friend instead of his work...his eyes on the boy he wished he could protect from the world...
/Are you missing the love of your kin?\
Quatre glanced around to the others, the smile on his face hiding the empty look. All he wanted was Trowa, but he knew he could never have that, which only made the empty void in his gut open even wider. His sisters would have been able to snap him from his silent, sad reverie, but they never wanted to see him anymore. Not since the death of their father, and the eminent demise of two other siblings because of their only brother....
/Drifting, and floating, and fading away....\
Quatre just stared at his plate, and Trowa felt his stomach churn. Two days without food...two long days it seemed, that Quatre refused to eat.....
~~~~~~
Tears were in Trowa's eyes as he sat in the other room, hugging his pillow, listening to the haunting, depressed tune that Quatre played. Pain ripped at the green eyed mans gut, and he wanted to go in there and kiss the boy senseless, show him that there was something to live for. But Quatre wouldn't even see his friend anymore. He had been falling quickly, and the news that had arrived moments ago that a third sister had been killed had seemed to force Quatre into an even deeper depression. Before he had welcomed the friendly comfort of Trowa. Now...
/Porcelain....
Do you smell like a girl when you smile?\
Quatre didn't jump when he suddenly felt Trowa's comforting fingers on his shoulder. Instead he wondered what had taken so long. He had been avoiding all the Gundam's for the past week, and they didn't even come except to bring him food anymore. They had left him alone to his own thoughts for too long...how much he loved Trowa was too open in his heart. If only he had been born a girl, then maybe Trowa would feel such love in return, instead of just taking Quatre into his comforting embrace and holding him in the silence of the night.
/Can you bear not to share with your child?
Drifting and floating and fading away....\
Quatre sat up in bed. It had been days since Trowa first came to comfort him, and he had never left the little blondes side since. During meal times, he would force the skinny boy to eat, and, because Quatre had resisted so many meals, he had found himself getting sick till his stomach accepted it again. But still, the feel of it in his gut made the constant pain made it all the more worse. The deathly pale Arabian left his sleeping friends side and made his way painfully into the bathroom, clutching his stomach. It always hurt, and the food made it worse. Pausing in front of the toilet, he immediately dropped to his knees and forced the food from his stomach, throwing up every last remnant of his meal....
/Little Lune...
All day....
Little lune....\
All Trowa could do not to cry was bite his lip and stare at his sad friend...he was failing Quatre, he realized, listening to the music. Quatre was worse off than before...
/Porcelain....\
"Eat," was Trowa's stern command, and Quatre did as told, waiting for Trowa to take the plate away. But instead, Trowa picked up the boy and carried him over to a chair, sitting down and pulling the Arabian onto his lap. Blinking in surprise, the blond boy watched as the green-eyed European lifted a cup of tea to his lips. It seemed that somehow Trowa had guessed that Quatre was throwing up his meals. Trowa pressed his lips to Quatre's temple, brushing his fingers through his hair as he whispered encouragement for the boy to drink. "This will help make the pain go away. I promise…" Quatre felt tears in his eyes. Tears that he thought were no longer possible, for he had always felt too sad to even cry. Something in the tea had made him tired, and all he could do was rest his head on his friends shoulder, whispering a quiet, "I love you, Trowa," before drifting off to sleep, leaving a bewildered Trowa gently rocking him.
/Do you carry the moon in your wounds?\
Nuzzling his chest like a contented kitten, Quatre clung to his lover, his legs wrapped around the taller, darker mans thigh. Trowa gazed down to the boy, pulling the blanket up a bit more over them. It was the times like this they both cherished, when Quatre had a true smile of happiness, and both could pretend that there was no fighting, no war, and they could be together forever in this private world. Where Trowa could pretend like he wasn't failing anymore, and that he was able to heal the large wounds that seemed to haunt the boy no matter how hard they tried. In truth thought, it almost seemed as if even the harsh beams of the moon were becoming too much to bear, and made the Quatre cry at just gazing at them, especially without Trowa around...
/Someone said that you're fading too soon...
Drifting and floating and fading away...\
"He's going to kill himself, I bet," had come Heero's quiet, matter of fact statement as they watched the door close. Trowa's eyes slid shut. Maybe Heero was right. Quatre was more loving lately, but his already rare, happy smiles had come less and less, and now he was going out for walks constantly on his own. Could that actually be true? Was Quatre going to kill himself?
"I'm failing," Trowa whispered. "I'm failing the only one I love..…What do I do?" Duo put a comforting hand onto his arm, all knowing that Heero was right. Quatre was drifting away, and even if he didn't kill himself, he would soon be so depressed, so introverted, that he might as well be dead. He was fading...heading in a straight slide to death. And none of them knew how to stop it....
/Porcelain....\
The moonlight was an even darker shade than the paling boy...and Trowa just held his sleeping form. At least he had started eating again ever since Trowa had made him drink that tea afterwards. But Quatre kept going up and down...and his lover was afraid that the next downfall would be his death. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Trowa pulled Quatre's sleeping form up a little higher so he could bury his face into blond locks, hiding the tears that flowed from emerald orbs.
"I can't live without you, Quatre. I need you."
/Are you wasting away in your skin?
Are you missing the love of your kin?\
Why was he shaking? No words were forthcoming from the usually talkative boy as he clung to his lovers shirt, not even finding the strength in him to cry. "I miss them," was all Quatre said, and Trowa knew immediately he meant his siblings, his sisters he had grown up with. Trowa closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his lovers hair. Somehow, he would find them...before it was too late....
/Nodding and melting and fading away\
Quatre wondered if Trowa knew he had whispered that vow aloud, the swear to find Quatre's siblings and reason with them. Even if he didn't, Quatre still clung to Trowa's shirt, running those words through his mind as they brought the tears to his eyes. He was such a bother to his lover...the only reason Trowa was with him was probably because of the boys depression. Quatre closed his eyes, crying even harder. He had forced Trowa into this relationship. He loved Trowa so much, and couldn't keep him bound down any longer. With that in mind, he clung to the man who he cared about more than life and resolutely made up his mind. Tonight, when his lover was asleep, he would let him go, and remove his own worthless existence from this planet....
/Little lune...
All day....
Little Lune.....\
The song played in the background, the soft, depressing violin music striking a chord deep in Quatre's chest. He had made them all suffer too much. He no longer deserved his existence here. All of them would get along much better without him.
If only he had known the pain that he would be causing was more than what he already had.
Quatra slowly stepped into the overly heated, full bathtub, his nude body immediately going numb with the painfully hot sensation. But he stood there, letting the pain enter into his bones and bring a twisted expression to his face. God knows how many people he had hurt, how many he had killed, how many he had left homeless, widowed, orphaned. Those hadn't been machines he was killing. No, they had been actual people. And his sisters had suffered too. One had been allied with OZ, and he had killed her husband and son. It was the same with three other sisters, and because of that act, all of them considered him a traitor. He had destroyed too many people caused too much pain. However much he caused for himself this night was only what he deserved.
Lowering himself down painfully slow, he sat in the tub and gazed into the steaming water, his skin prickling with the painful sensation. He reached over with fingers shaking from pain, the beautiful violin playing Bach wafting in the background. Slick fingers brought the sharp blade to an even slicker wrist, sweat beading on his brow. From fear or from heat, he didn't know. Swallowing hard, the tears hit his cheeks red from the burning water, and he quickly dragged the blade along one wrist, then the other. On the second one, it slipped a few times in bloodied fingers, making the gash a ragged, painful one. Lying back in the tub, he gazed up at the ceiling, and waited for death to take him.
/...Porcelain...\
Trowa stared at the body he cradled in his arms, the pain in him too much to bear. "I failed you, Quatre...I love you..." was all Trowa could gasp out in his sobs. How could he live without him? Without those moments, no matter how rare they were, when Quatre would smile contentedly and say that he wished life could always be as wonderful as that moment. The bed would be so cold without him there. Through tear-misted eyes, Trowa saw a glint of silver floating on the top of the water. The razor. His jaw clenched tightly and he reached over, taking it, and placed a final kiss on his lover's dead lips. In his heart, Trowa had always known it would come to this. His life was bound to Quatre's. He couldn't live without him.
Trowa gave off a pained whisper...the last words he'd ever give.
"I love you, Quatre...I'll be joining you soon......."
And with that, two more slices appeared, and Trowa's blood mingled in with that of his lovers.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Bleh, okay, that was HORRIBLE!!! Totally depressing. ^_^;;; Anyways, I wrote it after a really annoying day where I hated the world and needed a deathfic to take my mind off of it all and this just kind of came out. It's a FMF (five minute fic) that I just half-assed (excuse the expression) to get some aggression out of me. I know, its horrible, but BLAME THE MUSES! *Prods her muses, Iko and Ino, with a pitchfork.* *Suddenly gets hit with a whip*
Iko: BAD SLAVE! You must go back to writing those 635942.67 other inspirations we give you each day!
Ino: Yes, now get to work!
Ruka-chan: You guys just want to see me suffer.
Quatre: You deserve it for making me kill myself.
Ruka-chan: But I thought you liked to help people!
Quatre: How did I help anybody by killing myself!
Ruka-chan: You helped me relieve some major anxiety?
Quatre: I don't care about you! Give me another fic! I want to live and get laid! Er…
Trowa: *Snicker* Ruka, five words: Me, Quatre, and fuzzy handcuffs.
Quatre: Meep!
Iko: Yes…I like! WORK SLAVE! *Whip crack*
Ruka-chan: AHHH! I'm moving!
Well, I guess I'll see you all laterz! Sorry for the weirdness…see all of you laterz!
Ruka-chan
Title: Porcelain
Author: Ruka-chan
Archived: Fanfiction.net My name there is FuZzYyBitch Please ask to archive elsewhere.
Disclaimers: I don't own GW, but in my own little mind I do. The song "Porcelain" is owned by Red Hot Chili Peppers, though one day, when I rule the world, I will own that song and Gundam as well. *Evil grin*
Notes: Oddness is at the end. I kind of get attacked by my muses and a Chibi-Quatre and a Chibi-Trowa. I'm warning you. And one of the line of the song "Porcelain" has been altered. It's originally "Do you have the Moon in your womb" but I changed it to fit the story better. Also I added in a extra "Little Lune" part by accident, but oh well. And I wrote this a LONG time ago! Probably over last summer while chillin in Minnesota in the most hillbilly town possible. Them thar rednecks! Most Minnesotans aren't bad…just the town…*shivers*. Anyways, this is one of my older works and really really horrible and has a really annoying writing style. Sorry, I'm horrible when critiquing myself.
Warnings: Angst, shounen ai (I think I spelled that right). Deathfic.
Pairings: 3+4
Key: 'Thoughts' /Song lines\ *Emphasis* ~~~~ Scene breaks
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
/Porcelain....\
Trowa's eyes never left the blond haired, pale skinned Arabian as he wound his way slowly through the large library and bookshelves. Pretending to keep his green eyes on the book in front of him, the enigmatic circus man watched the quiet boy as he gazed upon the rims of the books with a quiet, melancholy look he never had in front of others. If he would have known Trowa's watchful eyes studied him, Quatre would never have let the happy sparkle from his eyes....
/Are you wasting away in your skin?\
Quatra never noticed when Trowa watched him. Or maybe he did, but never let the green eyed man notice. Now the boy just stared out at the stars with such a depressed look. Day after day the happiness became more openly fake, and the sadness more and more overwhelming. It seemed none of the others noticed the quick decent from the happy Quatre they once knew to the depressed, sad boy he had become. Resting his cheek upon a knee, Quatre's blue eyes gazed out to the land below him with a sigh of loneliness. He never did notice when Trowa would stand there, his eyes on his friend instead of his work...his eyes on the boy he wished he could protect from the world...
/Are you missing the love of your kin?\
Quatre glanced around to the others, the smile on his face hiding the empty look. All he wanted was Trowa, but he knew he could never have that, which only made the empty void in his gut open even wider. His sisters would have been able to snap him from his silent, sad reverie, but they never wanted to see him anymore. Not since the death of their father, and the eminent demise of two other siblings because of their only brother....
/Drifting, and floating, and fading away....\
Quatre just stared at his plate, and Trowa felt his stomach churn. Two days without food...two long days it seemed, that Quatre refused to eat.....
~~~~~~
Tears were in Trowa's eyes as he sat in the other room, hugging his pillow, listening to the haunting, depressed tune that Quatre played. Pain ripped at the green eyed mans gut, and he wanted to go in there and kiss the boy senseless, show him that there was something to live for. But Quatre wouldn't even see his friend anymore. He had been falling quickly, and the news that had arrived moments ago that a third sister had been killed had seemed to force Quatre into an even deeper depression. Before he had welcomed the friendly comfort of Trowa. Now...
/Porcelain....
Do you smell like a girl when you smile?\
Quatre didn't jump when he suddenly felt Trowa's comforting fingers on his shoulder. Instead he wondered what had taken so long. He had been avoiding all the Gundam's for the past week, and they didn't even come except to bring him food anymore. They had left him alone to his own thoughts for too long...how much he loved Trowa was too open in his heart. If only he had been born a girl, then maybe Trowa would feel such love in return, instead of just taking Quatre into his comforting embrace and holding him in the silence of the night.
/Can you bear not to share with your child?
Drifting and floating and fading away....\
Quatre sat up in bed. It had been days since Trowa first came to comfort him, and he had never left the little blondes side since. During meal times, he would force the skinny boy to eat, and, because Quatre had resisted so many meals, he had found himself getting sick till his stomach accepted it again. But still, the feel of it in his gut made the constant pain made it all the more worse. The deathly pale Arabian left his sleeping friends side and made his way painfully into the bathroom, clutching his stomach. It always hurt, and the food made it worse. Pausing in front of the toilet, he immediately dropped to his knees and forced the food from his stomach, throwing up every last remnant of his meal....
/Little Lune...
All day....
Little lune....\
All Trowa could do not to cry was bite his lip and stare at his sad friend...he was failing Quatre, he realized, listening to the music. Quatre was worse off than before...
/Porcelain....\
"Eat," was Trowa's stern command, and Quatre did as told, waiting for Trowa to take the plate away. But instead, Trowa picked up the boy and carried him over to a chair, sitting down and pulling the Arabian onto his lap. Blinking in surprise, the blond boy watched as the green-eyed European lifted a cup of tea to his lips. It seemed that somehow Trowa had guessed that Quatre was throwing up his meals. Trowa pressed his lips to Quatre's temple, brushing his fingers through his hair as he whispered encouragement for the boy to drink. "This will help make the pain go away. I promise…" Quatre felt tears in his eyes. Tears that he thought were no longer possible, for he had always felt too sad to even cry. Something in the tea had made him tired, and all he could do was rest his head on his friends shoulder, whispering a quiet, "I love you, Trowa," before drifting off to sleep, leaving a bewildered Trowa gently rocking him.
/Do you carry the moon in your wounds?\
Nuzzling his chest like a contented kitten, Quatre clung to his lover, his legs wrapped around the taller, darker mans thigh. Trowa gazed down to the boy, pulling the blanket up a bit more over them. It was the times like this they both cherished, when Quatre had a true smile of happiness, and both could pretend that there was no fighting, no war, and they could be together forever in this private world. Where Trowa could pretend like he wasn't failing anymore, and that he was able to heal the large wounds that seemed to haunt the boy no matter how hard they tried. In truth thought, it almost seemed as if even the harsh beams of the moon were becoming too much to bear, and made the Quatre cry at just gazing at them, especially without Trowa around...
/Someone said that you're fading too soon...
Drifting and floating and fading away...\
"He's going to kill himself, I bet," had come Heero's quiet, matter of fact statement as they watched the door close. Trowa's eyes slid shut. Maybe Heero was right. Quatre was more loving lately, but his already rare, happy smiles had come less and less, and now he was going out for walks constantly on his own. Could that actually be true? Was Quatre going to kill himself?
"I'm failing," Trowa whispered. "I'm failing the only one I love..…What do I do?" Duo put a comforting hand onto his arm, all knowing that Heero was right. Quatre was drifting away, and even if he didn't kill himself, he would soon be so depressed, so introverted, that he might as well be dead. He was fading...heading in a straight slide to death. And none of them knew how to stop it....
/Porcelain....\
The moonlight was an even darker shade than the paling boy...and Trowa just held his sleeping form. At least he had started eating again ever since Trowa had made him drink that tea afterwards. But Quatre kept going up and down...and his lover was afraid that the next downfall would be his death. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Trowa pulled Quatre's sleeping form up a little higher so he could bury his face into blond locks, hiding the tears that flowed from emerald orbs.
"I can't live without you, Quatre. I need you."
/Are you wasting away in your skin?
Are you missing the love of your kin?\
Why was he shaking? No words were forthcoming from the usually talkative boy as he clung to his lovers shirt, not even finding the strength in him to cry. "I miss them," was all Quatre said, and Trowa knew immediately he meant his siblings, his sisters he had grown up with. Trowa closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his lovers hair. Somehow, he would find them...before it was too late....
/Nodding and melting and fading away\
Quatre wondered if Trowa knew he had whispered that vow aloud, the swear to find Quatre's siblings and reason with them. Even if he didn't, Quatre still clung to Trowa's shirt, running those words through his mind as they brought the tears to his eyes. He was such a bother to his lover...the only reason Trowa was with him was probably because of the boys depression. Quatre closed his eyes, crying even harder. He had forced Trowa into this relationship. He loved Trowa so much, and couldn't keep him bound down any longer. With that in mind, he clung to the man who he cared about more than life and resolutely made up his mind. Tonight, when his lover was asleep, he would let him go, and remove his own worthless existence from this planet....
/Little lune...
All day....
Little Lune.....\
The song played in the background, the soft, depressing violin music striking a chord deep in Quatre's chest. He had made them all suffer too much. He no longer deserved his existence here. All of them would get along much better without him.
If only he had known the pain that he would be causing was more than what he already had.
Quatra slowly stepped into the overly heated, full bathtub, his nude body immediately going numb with the painfully hot sensation. But he stood there, letting the pain enter into his bones and bring a twisted expression to his face. God knows how many people he had hurt, how many he had killed, how many he had left homeless, widowed, orphaned. Those hadn't been machines he was killing. No, they had been actual people. And his sisters had suffered too. One had been allied with OZ, and he had killed her husband and son. It was the same with three other sisters, and because of that act, all of them considered him a traitor. He had destroyed too many people caused too much pain. However much he caused for himself this night was only what he deserved.
Lowering himself down painfully slow, he sat in the tub and gazed into the steaming water, his skin prickling with the painful sensation. He reached over with fingers shaking from pain, the beautiful violin playing Bach wafting in the background. Slick fingers brought the sharp blade to an even slicker wrist, sweat beading on his brow. From fear or from heat, he didn't know. Swallowing hard, the tears hit his cheeks red from the burning water, and he quickly dragged the blade along one wrist, then the other. On the second one, it slipped a few times in bloodied fingers, making the gash a ragged, painful one. Lying back in the tub, he gazed up at the ceiling, and waited for death to take him.
/...Porcelain...\
Trowa stared at the body he cradled in his arms, the pain in him too much to bear. "I failed you, Quatre...I love you..." was all Trowa could gasp out in his sobs. How could he live without him? Without those moments, no matter how rare they were, when Quatre would smile contentedly and say that he wished life could always be as wonderful as that moment. The bed would be so cold without him there. Through tear-misted eyes, Trowa saw a glint of silver floating on the top of the water. The razor. His jaw clenched tightly and he reached over, taking it, and placed a final kiss on his lover's dead lips. In his heart, Trowa had always known it would come to this. His life was bound to Quatre's. He couldn't live without him.
Trowa gave off a pained whisper...the last words he'd ever give.
"I love you, Quatre...I'll be joining you soon......."
And with that, two more slices appeared, and Trowa's blood mingled in with that of his lovers.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Bleh, okay, that was HORRIBLE!!! Totally depressing. ^_^;;; Anyways, I wrote it after a really annoying day where I hated the world and needed a deathfic to take my mind off of it all and this just kind of came out. It's a FMF (five minute fic) that I just half-assed (excuse the expression) to get some aggression out of me. I know, its horrible, but BLAME THE MUSES! *Prods her muses, Iko and Ino, with a pitchfork.* *Suddenly gets hit with a whip*
Iko: BAD SLAVE! You must go back to writing those 635942.67 other inspirations we give you each day!
Ino: Yes, now get to work!
Ruka-chan: You guys just want to see me suffer.
Quatre: You deserve it for making me kill myself.
Ruka-chan: But I thought you liked to help people!
Quatre: How did I help anybody by killing myself!
Ruka-chan: You helped me relieve some major anxiety?
Quatre: I don't care about you! Give me another fic! I want to live and get laid! Er…
Trowa: *Snicker* Ruka, five words: Me, Quatre, and fuzzy handcuffs.
Quatre: Meep!
Iko: Yes…I like! WORK SLAVE! *Whip crack*
Ruka-chan: AHHH! I'm moving!
Well, I guess I'll see you all laterz! Sorry for the weirdness…see all of you laterz!
Ruka-chan