Disclaimer: I own nothing but my sick and twisted mind that comes up with these evil plots.
Warning: Tragedy and Vincent being put through lots of pain. Physical and otherwise. Eventual yaoi, rated M for general content and future intense content.
Lotsa pairings in this one... since Vincent is technically an elderly man... 50 something by Dirge of Cerberus. Three are definate, other ideas are welcome.
I was told from the beginning that it was my fault.
"It's your fault that your father is dead."
That was my mother, when Father died taking a bullet aimed at me. I couldn't have been more than five. The shooter had been terrified of me, haunted by my red eyes.
"It's your fault that we live off of whoring."
That was her when I was ten and she sold me into prostitution to a whore house that was particularly infamous for cruelty.
"It's your fault that we're starving to death."
That was when I had just turned sixteen, and hadn't brought enough money in that month. That was the day I decided to become a Turk.