storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2010-08-31 09:20 am
storypaint) wrote2010-08-31 09:20 am
[Magic Knight Rayearth] i hold with those who favor fire (Clef/Presea)
Title: i hold with those who favor fire
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth
Length: 365 words
Prompt: and now in tears we meet again for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chibidl's birthdayfic
Pairing: dark!Clef/dark!Presea; dark!Clef/dark!Umi
Other: Set in a dark mirror universe prompted from a Polychromatic curse. PG for violence.
Excerpt: As the opposite, many of his decisions are impulsive and unstudied, but this one isn't. He keeps stepping into her traps, crossing her boundaries, earnest and angry and wanting.
He keeps coming back.
As the opposite, many of his decisions are impulsive and unstudied, but this one isn't. He keeps stepping into her traps, crossing her boundaries, earnest and angry and wanting.
"I didn't make this for you," she scowls, a bad lie, as she extracts his foot from the trap and throws him an old rag to staunch the bleeding. "I don't know where you got that idea."
She watches from a window as he hobbles out the door, leaning on his staff and summoning his beast. He doesn't turn to look because he knows she'll go away if he does.
He has a thousand scars from visiting her, hook-marks etched into the flesh of his arms and teethmarks in his ankle. She has no mercy where her counterpart has too much. She does not bother with nets or cages. She's caged herself.
He likes the pain because it reminds him that this is real, that he is real, that there is purpose to his life. (Some things can't be opposite, some things define, and both Clef and his counterpart do not give up until they've done their duty, and beyond.) And she seems to like the color of his blood, until it stains her floorboards, anyway, and then she complains that it reminds her of him all the time, like a creature niggling at her skin.
"Why do you come back?" she demands. "Why can't you take a hint?" Her hands are rough and precise as she plucks the needles out of his calf. He winces at each one.
"Why can't you?" he asks. She scowls; her fingers still. For a moment her bare hand rests there on his leg, damp with his blood, oddly intimate. He wants to kiss her, but her other hand is full of needles, and he isn't willing to give up his eyesight for her sake: how else could he appreciate her shining, straight-backed rage?
"Don't come back," she says instead, lowering her eyes and returning to the minimal first aid she conducts before sending him home, claiming that she doesn't want the dark Umi to come after her. He thinks, woozily, that maybe she just wants to touch him.
"I will," he promises. "I will."
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth
Length: 365 words
Prompt: and now in tears we meet again for
chibidl's birthdayficPairing: dark!Clef/dark!Presea; dark!Clef/dark!Umi
Other: Set in a dark mirror universe prompted from a Polychromatic curse. PG for violence.
Excerpt: As the opposite, many of his decisions are impulsive and unstudied, but this one isn't. He keeps stepping into her traps, crossing her boundaries, earnest and angry and wanting.
He keeps coming back.
As the opposite, many of his decisions are impulsive and unstudied, but this one isn't. He keeps stepping into her traps, crossing her boundaries, earnest and angry and wanting.
"I didn't make this for you," she scowls, a bad lie, as she extracts his foot from the trap and throws him an old rag to staunch the bleeding. "I don't know where you got that idea."
She watches from a window as he hobbles out the door, leaning on his staff and summoning his beast. He doesn't turn to look because he knows she'll go away if he does.
He has a thousand scars from visiting her, hook-marks etched into the flesh of his arms and teethmarks in his ankle. She has no mercy where her counterpart has too much. She does not bother with nets or cages. She's caged herself.
He likes the pain because it reminds him that this is real, that he is real, that there is purpose to his life. (Some things can't be opposite, some things define, and both Clef and his counterpart do not give up until they've done their duty, and beyond.) And she seems to like the color of his blood, until it stains her floorboards, anyway, and then she complains that it reminds her of him all the time, like a creature niggling at her skin.
"Why do you come back?" she demands. "Why can't you take a hint?" Her hands are rough and precise as she plucks the needles out of his calf. He winces at each one.
"Why can't you?" he asks. She scowls; her fingers still. For a moment her bare hand rests there on his leg, damp with his blood, oddly intimate. He wants to kiss her, but her other hand is full of needles, and he isn't willing to give up his eyesight for her sake: how else could he appreciate her shining, straight-backed rage?
"Don't come back," she says instead, lowering her eyes and returning to the minimal first aid she conducts before sending him home, claiming that she doesn't want the dark Umi to come after her. He thinks, woozily, that maybe she just wants to touch him.
"I will," he promises. "I will."