Broken Halo
By Miss Dincht
Notes: This is a YAOI fan – fiction starring Seifer and Squall from FF8. This is an Alternate Universe, MPREG story, so if the idea of a man getting or being pregnant, or having kids for that matter, offends you, please do not read this. This fic is a gift to AWong.
Totally overwrought and out there. I mean, this fic is weird and totally experimental, but then I'm weird and totally experimental, so what can one do?
The fic is pretty short, and it's sort of just a PWP. Squall is an Angel - Ariel - and Seifer is a Demon - Lucifuge - and they're together, living on earth. Angels are hermaphrodites, so Squall has both sexes, but Demons are single - sexed as a punishment after the fall, so Seifer is male. :-P. Heh. Like I said, my first MPREG, so go easy on me. Not as easy as I thought it would be.
This fic is rated NC - 17 for foul language, corruption of organized religion, blasphemy, and mature subject matter.
Just so you know in case you don't:
"Morning Star" is one of many names given to Satan.
Lucius means "Light"
Marcus means "Warlike"
Tristan means "Unhappy"
Ariel is "The Lionhearted Angel", heh.
Broken Halo
By Miss Dincht
The three little ones are always there waiting whenever I return, and I smile as I make my way up the first of several steps that lead into the pitiful apartment building. The youngest always stands up first, the two oldest having already learned that it doesn't pay to be too eager, but I would never refuse them. I pull three large caramels from the brown, paper bag in my hand and place one sweet into each tiny, filth - covered hand. The youngest squeals and the other two smile broadly as I pass and continue up the stairs.
"Thank you, Seifer!" the eldest, Camilla, cries.
I smile but don't bother to turn around.
"Wings! Wings!" The tiny one, Amelia, cries.
"Later." I say as I disappear into the shadow.
The children whine in disappointment, but they quickly forget as they begin to gobble down the candy. Deirdre, the middle child, would have been dead this same time next week, a victim of her mother's abuse, but I plan to pay a visit to the woman tomorrow. I usually wouldn't interfere, but I have always had a weakness for children. Right now, however, I have my own family matters to attend to.
We live on the fourth floor of the building. I take the stairs. The climb takes nothing out of me. There are many ways to get from one place to another, but I would have used far more energy had I chosen to reach my destination by some other means. Besides, it is always unwise to abuse power, to use it when there is clearly no need, and it s just as unwise to draw unneeded and unwanted attention.
A rat scurries from my path as I make my way up the last step and into the long hallway. I kick at the squealing rodent halfheartedly. My boot just misses the disease - riddled creature, and I chuckle slightly as it squeals again and disappears into a hole in the cracked and peeling wall. With the rat gone, the hallway is nearly deserted. Old Mr. Kling is unconscious and lying in a puddle of his own filth - urine and vomit to be precise - but as usual, he comes to life when I walk past.
"I see you! I know you! Demon! Demon!" he wails as he bats at the stale air in front of him. "Stay away from me! Stay away! Leave me be, damn you! I won't go! I won't go! You Motherfuckers can't take me when I ain't ready to go!"
I laugh. Fools and children. Fools and children. "They're not ready for you yet, you stupid, old fuck. In due time, Kling you old bastard, in due time. Now shut your fucking mouth. Going to wake up the entire building?" I say, my tone very cordial. He stills and quiets instantly, falling back into his drunken stupor.
I chuckle and pull a ring of keys from the pocket of my coat as I reach the faded, wooden door. A moment later I am inside of the old apartment. I close the door quietly behind me, and step into the kitchen.
Ariel, or Squall as he chooses to call himself now, is sitting at the kitchen table, one hand on his rounded stomach, the other propped beneath his pointed chin. He had been sleeping, but he stirs slightly when he senses my arrival, and the white wings on his back flutter gently. The feathery appendages will be forever glorious, forever clean and beautiful, no matter how far he falls, no matter what filth he lives in. My greatest joy is to feel those wings wrap around me, especially when I have him beneath me, moaning and screaming loud enough to rouse the heavens and make glorious Michael turn in shame. My beautiful, beautiful Angel.
"Lucius was here." he says as he turns slightly to look at me. He sounds tired, but his slightly breathy voice is pleasant.
"Ah, Lucius." I say. I thought I had sensed his presence, but I wasn't sure. It could have been any one of them.
Lovely Lucius. Tall, blonde, and always impeccably dressed. A peculiar "boy" for lack of a better term. He is very beautiful, very dangerous, very cruel, and very violent. I couldn't have been more proud, but my reasons for loving our eldest child are vastly different than Squall's. Lucius is a very pretty creature, his looks quite deceptive, and Squall cannot help but be fond of lovely things, even if those things are only lovely on the outside. Squall adores Lucius, and although the loud - mouthed bastard despises his "Mother", the "Light Bringer" remains Squall's favorite. Besides, Lucius is his first born, the fruition of Squall's first sin, and the first is always the sweetest.
I walk over to the table and gently kiss Squall's soft lips. He turns and wraps his arms around me, and he almost crushes me in his embrace and the bag nearly falls to the tiled floor. He is so eager, and always so willing. He presses his lips to mine and he places one hand against my cheek. I taunt him with a bit of tongue, and he is delighted, sighing softly into the kiss as he clutches the collar of my coat. Long moments pass before he lets me pull away, and I smile down at him before I turn and make my way toward the kitchen counter, placing the bag in my hand on the cracked, linoleum surface. The bag is filled with junk: chocolate, hard candy, doughnuts, and other sweets, food not fit for a dog, but when Ariel - Squall - does eat, he will eat only sweets. Like all of our kind, he eats more for pleasure rather than for nourishment, and the food has little, if any effect on him or the child growing within him. My child. Our fourth child together; A female child whose unholy trinity of brothers already dote upon her. Lucius brings her broken hearts and jars filled with tormented souls, black - winged Marcus brings her odds and ends that must never see the light of day, and Tristan brings her black roses and living dolls with lifeless eyes. Squall wants to call her Priscilla.
"What did he want?" I ask.
"He was looking for you, and he also came to ask about the child. He left her a gift." Squall says.
I can hear Lucius' gift as it shifts, then slides across the floor of the bathroom, growling as it moves. Just peachy. We won't be able to keep it, of course, but it was a nice gesture, and I can only imagine what Lucius went through to get it. I open one of the cabinets and shove the brightly colored boxes and packages inside. Several cockroaches scurry out of the way as the packages fall on the shelf.
"Did you tell him I had gone shopping?" I say.
"Uhn huh, but he couldn't stay long." he says. "I so wish he could have stayed, but he said that he had some business to attend to. He says when he returns he'll bring Marcus and Tristan too. Mmmmmm, Marcus. I haven't seen him in so very long. Lucius tells me that Marcus and his lover have gone to England." Squall says.
A broad smile spreads across his face, and his bright blue eyes seem almost to glow in the dim light, and I know he thinks of Marcus, the one who never speaks, the one who prefers neither Father nor Mother, but would tear down Heaven and uproot Hell for both. Squall is very, very fond of the children, even the youngest, Tristan, whose scarred body and broken, blood - stained wings makes him Squall's least favorite, although it is Tristan who looks most like Squall and adores Squall most, his love for his Mother unconditional. In Tristan's eyes, Mother can do no wrong, and, of course, God's eyes have turned away.
"It'll be good to see the little bastards again." I say.
I turn from the counter and remove my heavy long - coat. The leathery, black wings slowly lift almost of their own volition from their folded position on my back, first one, then the other, until they block the little light that filters through the one, grime - covered window in the cramped room. Squall seems to welcome the shadow and he looks into my eyes, a faint, somewhat mischievous smile curving his pink lips as he rubs his protruding belly languidly. Moments later the wings fold against my back, and the room brightens. Squall flinches slightly, suddenly finding the dim light far too bright and more than a little annoying. He can hardly stand bright lights anymore, and I often marvel at this since he had lived for so long amidst the most glorious light in all of existence, a light - wielding God like no other, but then, so had I.
I have loved Ariel from the very beginning, even before the rebellion, when I was "Sent Down", my punishment for following the angry and ambitious "Morning Star". That was so long ago, though not much has changed. I still love him, even after so much time, and I will love him until this world is gone and passed away. I stand there for a moment and stare at my beautiful Angel, and always when I stare at him there is mixed emotion. We are sworn enemies, and so it is not strange that I often want to hurt the thing I love most. But I would never hurt him. He keeps the darkness away. I watch as he licks his lips slightly, unconscious of the action, and I can't help the smirk that turns my lips. So innocent, even when he sins.
"Come here." I say.
The urge to touch him, to fuck him, has become too powerful. I need him on his back moaning beneath me. I need to be inside of him.
Squall rises slowly from the chair, his hand still resting on his rounded stomach. He comes before me, and I take his hand. I kiss the smooth flesh gently, then close my eyes when I feel his other hand caress my cheek. I wrap my arms around him and pull him against me, and he nearly loses his balance from my forceful grasp. Like all Angels, he looks far more delicate than he truly is. I have seen Squall war with Hell's fiercest demons and crush them beneath his feet.
I reluctantly pull away from his body, but I never release his hand. I pull him from the kitchen, through the living room and into the apartment's lone bedroom. The shades have been drawn down and scarce light filters into the dingy room. I release Squall only to remove the black, leather pants I'm wearing, and while I carefully pull the garment down my legs Squall sits on the edge of the bed. He removes the loose pants and large shirt he is wearing, careful not to bruise his wings when he removes the garment, and soon he is lying naked on the faded sheets, on his side because of the bulging stomach. His wings are folded and pressed close to his back, but they shift and flutter with anticipation. He rubs his belly gently and sighs softly. I smirk slightly. He is always so eager, always as hungry as I am. He watches me remove my pants then my boots, and he lifts up onto one arm as I near the bed. I linger beside the bed for a moment and stare at the sight of all that beautiful, nude flesh and what I want to do to it: touch it, bite it, hurt it, mark it again and again until he begs me to stop while his body begs for more.
Squall sighs softly, a sound of pleasure, as I slide into the bed next to him. He moans slightly and immediately turns onto his back, shifting for several moments as he tries to find a comfortable position for his wings. He leans his head toward one shoulder as he arches his back slightly and lifts his slender legs. He spreads them and I move between them, gripping his thighs firmly and pulling his body down closer to me as I do so. He whimpers slightly at the pain of my grasp, but he'll be crying by the time I'm through. I lean forward and my wings spread out above us, shielding us in a veil of darkness from the prying eyes of those who might frown upon such a wicked thing.
We are not that different than humans. We are made of the same stuff, just flesh of a finer quality, and we can feel things so much more deeply. A human's appetites could never compare with our own, and I am hungry, always hungry for what Squall can give me. I kiss him deeply, forcefully, sucking and biting the sweet, tender lips. He whimpers softly and clutches my forearms as I deepen the kiss, pushing my tongue even further into his lush, warm mouth. I continue to take what I want, and soon I am hurting him. He whimpers and turns his face, but I search for his lips and take them again. He is unable to break the kiss, and so, as always he surrenders to it, soon uttering small moans that are indicative of both his pain and his pleasure. I bite his lip just before I release it, the two sharp teeth breaking skin and drawing blood. I moan as I suck his lips and drink the crimson fluid. The taste is sweet. I soon move my ministrations to his long throat, sucking, kissing, and again biting and drawing blood when I want it. Squall moans and cries softly, and soon enough he begins to beg me for more.
We have done this so many times, we have been together so long, but whenever I have him like this, he cannot help but be just a little afraid. I can smell his fear, and it is a potent aphrodisiac. Only when we're like this does he fear me. Only now would he pretend that I force him onto his back and make him spread his legs, make him take my seed and bare my children. Such a wicked thing we have done, giving life to children whose very existence is blasphemy, but then God's eyes are closed. God has turned away.
I continue to taste and lick his wondrous flesh, so fucking sweet, and my hand slips down the side of his rounded belly, this body that is full with a Demon's seed. The child within him leaps, perhaps enraptured and enchanted by her father's touch. We will have to move before she is born. Too many eyes will be watching, and I don't want a repeat of what happened when Tristan came into the world. There are plenty of places for Squall to have the child. There are secret places where even Gods and monsters do not look. There are places where those like us can find a moment of peace. This is just until Priscilla is old enough to be on her own, when like her brothers, both Angel and Demon will flee in her wake.
I slide one hand over his slightly rounded belly as I move down and take one of Squall's dark nipples into my mouth. He gasps then moans as I nip at the tender flesh until it red and swollen. I do the same to the other nipple and my hands move up and down his thigh, coaxing more cries from his moistened lips. I move from the reddened flesh and gently lick his stomach as I rise to my knees before him. The lust in me is overwhelming, and I force myself to maintain some control as I position my engorged flesh between his legs. There is plenty of time for pain, but in the beginning I am always gentle. Squall reaches for my heated arousal and presses it against the slick opening just beneath his own stiff erection. Angels are bisexual creatures - pun definitely intended - and like their God they are neither male nor female but blessed with the qualities of both, although the outward appearance certainly leans more toward male than female. This duality is but one of the many gifts that was taken from those like me, those who have fallen, and so, I am little more than a man.
"No." I whisper softly in his ear. "I want to fuck you this way."
"Please." Squall whispers before he whines softly, angry and impatient with me.
I smirk. He does not care how I take him. He just wants me to fuck him. God, how the mighty have fallen.
I place my hands beside his head and lean over him. He watches, his breaths short and quick, as I push my cock into the tiny hole beneath the other. Our body's appear much the same as human bodies, but some things are strictly for decorative purposes. We were just the prototypes. We were simply a test for what was to come, and it makes me wonder how God expected us to simply sit still and watch while a whining, crying lot of useless human beings became God's glory.
"Fuck. God." I say as I slide into the slick passage between Ariel's smooth legs and the blessedly tight flesh squeezes my cock.
I lower my head, my nose nearly touching Squall's round stomach, as I begin to pound into the tender flesh. When I am buried deep I look up at him, leaning so that my face is directly over his. This way I can look down into his too perfect face and watch how he delights in this sin. He wails loudly as I push deeper, arching his back from the bed, his white wings rustling violently beneath him. He closes his eyes and moans - long and loud - before opening them and looking up at me with pleading and frightened eyes. Ah, Angel, sweet, sweet Angel, yes, beg me for it. I smile down at him, red - eyes glowing, as I continue to thrust into his writhing body, my cock driving into him so hard the bed rocks precariously with the force. Oh...and how he likes it. How he moans and cries and whimpers as my hard flesh fills him and hurts him and gives him such joy that he would turn his back on his very Maker just to have it. Oh, fuck, yes. YES. This is why I chose this path, why I turned my back on my Maker and all that the Heavens deemed sacred, this is why I feel no shame at tarnishing his white wings.
I began to move faster - the bed is beginning to break beneath the force - but I want to go deeper into Squall's body, as far as I can go without breaking him, though the thought is tempting. Squall spreads his legs wider, lifting them from the bed, wanting, needing the same, always willing to walk that dark place where I would guide him. The pleasure cannot be described. It is perhaps the one thing in all worlds that rivals God. Such exquisite pleasure, enough to bring the world to its knees, and you better believe God knew it. No, we are not that different from humans at all.
More tears begin to fall from his eyes and streak his pretty face - the pale, blue tears of the Angel - and I lean forward every so often to lick them from his heated skin. I reach back and take hold of one of his legs, pushing it back so far that it touches the bed, and he cries out loudly as my cock sinks even deeper. One of his hands clutches the blanket and the other grips my waist as his head leans back and his neck arches outward. I press my lips to the smooth column and sink sharp teeth into the soft flesh. Squall cries out again, and then moans loudly in pleasure as I drink from him. All is lost to him but feeling, and he is nearly out of my reach. Where he has gone, Angels fear to tread. I shiver and close my eyes, a wicked grin spreading across my face, as a particularly potent wave of pleasure spikes up from the place where I fill him, where my cock impales him, and slams strait into my brain. Ah...Fuck. I groan loudly and arch my back and my wings swing outward, my body stiffening as the bliss of it nearly incapacitates me. I clutch the sheets and begin to thrust with more force into the hot, moist passage of the squirming body beneath me, growling loudly as I plunge deeper, each thrust a blessed mix of ecstasy and pain. Beautiful. So fucking beautiful, and I am no longer able to keep myself from fucking him so hard that he wails, his screams so loud that even a deaf God could hear them. He grips my arms, causing me such sweet pain, as the hot, white fluid pours from his body, the evidence of his pleasure spilling all over my stomach, my legs, and coating my cock.
And then it is done, and the bliss that explodes within my mind is the closest to God I will ever get. I spill my seed deep within him, and he moans in pleasure - a faint smile on his lips - as his sweat - slicked fingers clutch my backside. His hair is plastered against his face and his cheeks are red with the blush of our sin. Ariel struggles to breath, his chest hitching violently. I lean forward and kiss his sweat - soaked face and he seeks my lips, kissing me fiercely and wrapping his arms tightly around my neck as his elegantly made legs wrap around my waist. Eventually he releases me, and I slowly move to his side, placing my hand firmly upon his stomach. The child moves beneath my touch, and I kiss Squall's shoulder as he turns onto his side and presses his body against mine. He places his hand on top of my own and holds it there. I stare down at his profile, leaning down every few moments to kiss some place on his body. He sighs his contentment, and soon enough he is sleeping.
There is a shift in the light outside, and for a moment the room brightens. Squall, Ariel, whimpers slightly and presses his face against the damp blankets as a sliver of light graces his face. I lift one wing and spread it over him, giving him the darkness he craves. He sighs once more, the sound pleasing to my ears, and then he sleeps peacefully. Perhaps he dreams.
I kiss his shoulder gently and then slide my hand further along his full belly, and soon...Priscilla sleeps too.
Okay, yes, I'm a weirdo. Hope you liked this Awong, and thanks again for visiting my site.