#//pour souls of the lifestream

[spinejackel]

Finally attempted to draw my other ff7 oc, Rhea If Minerva is the embodiment of the soul of the planet, then Rhea is what I think the embodiment of the blood of the planet (magma) would be He's not actually a bird but likes to take the form of one when he is able to take a form. He's normally amorphous and fluid like magma usually is. will have a bit more about him under the cut

Rhea is the first god on Gaia. He is so old that he doesn't actually have a real name, because there was no one else there to name him when he came into existence. The other gods only refer to him by titles. It was the Cetra who gave him the name Rhea. Other gods refer to him mostly as "The Shattered God" because, while originally being neither good or evil, he acted indipendantly from the other gods, and, being vastly older and stronger than them, scared them with the thought of what he could be capable of if he ever decided to turn against them, or that he could turn the land over on itself and destroy the newly flourishing life on the surface of the planet. So the other gods turned on him before he could do that to them, and they shattered his soul to strip him of his power, but in doing so, doomed humanity to Rhea’s wrath should he ever be able to reform.

When his soul was split into pieces, one part became Ifrit, and another part became Phoenix. Many of the other parts of his soul vanished into nothing as Minerva would not let those parts enter the Lifestream.

With the last bits of his strength, Rhea poured the last sherds of his power into a solid form, thus creating the Blood Materia (i.e. "blood of the planet"), an extremely dark rusty color materia with slowly turning bands of amber color within it. The family of my other ff7 oc, Killian, has been keeping guard of this materia for an unknown number of generations. They used to have records of where it came from and what it's connection to Rhea was, but thanks to one careless family member, the records were lost about 175 years ago, and the oral knowledge wasn't passed down all that well either. All Killian knows is that it's his turn to guard the Blood Materia, and that it's important enough that he needs to keep it safe, so he keeps it on his person at all times.

Unfortunately, by keeping it on him all the time, Rhea is able to connect himself to Killian, which also means he can hear Rhea trying to talk to him, and Rhea has nothing but contempt for everything. I have even more in my head for how Killian can use the Blood Materia, and how it effects him, but I want to make another thing for that showing each stage. Pictured above would be a "stage six" connection to Rhea. I was feeling lazy about drawing Killian + I didn't want to draw attention away from Rhea, so I just blocked him in. Only the glowing effect is actually there, not the solid grey color.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

amongst the weary

She hadn't been expecting this. A broken star, and even worse, broken souls. They were horrid, squirming little things, so unlike the wills that she was used to. Nor had she expected the sheer futility of the task of possibly putting everything back together--her ex husband and his friends had certainly seen to that.

But Athena felt she had nothing but time. She'd evaded Lahabrea, certainly there weren't any other members of the Convocation to stop her--she could hear Emet-Selch's bleating if she thought upon it--no, she had made it. She had her new vessel, unlimited aether and countless test subjects at her fingertips.

She had the freedom to remake everything to be perfect.

----

It had been child's play to create the Kokytos and set it adrift in the aetherical sea. She needed to study the souls of what mankind had become--couldn't fix a problem if you didn't have at bare minimum basic knowledge of what was wrong, now could you?--and the wretched thing would return with plenty of samples for her to choose from.

But then...

HEY!!!!

Another broken soul--

STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!!!

But this one was different! It shone with Light, with raw aether, it held creatures of elemental power--it was marked from having crossed the paths between worlds--it held echoes of a soul as old as hers--

Athena watched as the soul's owner--small, brunette, and screaming with fury--launched herself at Kokytos. The attack was unexpected, and her creation howled as it was struck with two chakrams. The brunette pressed the attack--leaping into the air and kicking the Kokytos in the jaw as hard as she could. Athena watched as she landed on her feet, snatching her weapons back out of the air. Kokytos--to its credit, had been sent reeling but it hadn't fallen. Snarling, it launched itself at the woman--who brought up an aetherical shield too late to defend. The blow sent her flying across the arena, slamming into a crystaline tree. Athena watched, fascinated...but something was pricking at her.

I...I've seen her before! I-I know I have--but where? Memories poured through Athena, from her new vessel and from others she'd gathered while drifting through the Lifestream. A brown-haired woman with blue eyes, who possessed a might to rival all the greatest known warriors, who had a wont to turn up in the oddest places and help--or greatly hinder, depending on the soul's memory--

A familiar who was brown-haired and blue eyed, with chakrams on her hips, who had been by Themis' and her misbegotten creation's side in Pandaemonium, who had broken Hephaistos' plans and defeated him-- Athena gasped, realizing just whom the Kokytos was battling.

Her?! A snarl broke through her musings, and Athena turned her attention to the battlefield. Kokytos was charging towards the woman--Riven, her name was Riven-- who was on all fours, blood staining one side of her armor. Athena watched as Kokytos leapt towards the fallen woman, mouth gaping wide...

Pillars of light roared to life around Riven, and Kokytos howled in pain as a sword bit deep into it's neck. Then it screamed even louder as another blade buried itself in it's shoulder. The owners of the weapons--Athena caught a flash of silver platemail and a red jacket--wrenched them free, just as a streak of white slammed the point of a spear into her creation's back. Kokytos roared, shaking the spear and it's owner free before retreating back--with the three attackers in hot pursuit. Behind them the pillars had faded--and another form in white-silver was helping Riven to her feet, the wounds in her side rapidly disappearing. Shock rippled through Athena as she recognized who had just arrived--

Those were--those were her illusion-allies! But they weren't constructs of aether. No, they were broken souls just like Riven! But the power they held, the echoes inside them--and for two of the men, Athena could see something else--something truly and completely alien, coiling serpentine around the jagged shards of their souls--

Could they be what I need?! Possibilities upon possibilities whirled through Athena's mind. Here was fresh data, a possible repair to the problem before her, yes it would be very annoying if they killed the Kokytos but the information she could glean from the fight--and perhaps she could speak with them, maybe they--she would understand--

Dizzy with delight, Athena settled in to watch her creation do battle against Riven and her allies.

------

(a thank you to @driftward for pointing out that Athena would see Reinhardt and Mathye's inner dragons and possibly lose her damn mind over the idea of more weird test subjects)

[onwesterlywinds]

PROMPT #21: Grave

About a year ago, one of the younger and more gregarious Heart-Seers had recognized the irony of her discomfort with this long forestalled moment: "silly" was the word they had used to question that her role as presider over the catacombs did not better inure her to this particular grief.

She had risen early in the hopes of meeting no one else along the road and had pondered for most of the journey how she would recognize a landmark she had seen only a handful of times before in passing, as he had not wielded the blade until his time with the Crystal Braves. Even so, Ashe recognized it from yalms off, and a sob made to tear its way through her chest at the first sight of it. She had seen it in the Lifestream, after all; it had held off the swipes and scrapes of half a dozen specters, Ala Mhigan all but unknown to her in their grief, who had hurled insults and accusations amid their attempts at dragging her down to their frigid depths. Pretender. Power-needy. Pathetic.

And Bertliana had laid a bouquet, no more than a day old, at the spot where cold steel met with hard earth.

"I'm so sorry," Ashe whispered as she made her approach, passing countless other memorials to the long-lost dead in those last few steps. "I'm so sorry it's taken me until now to visit. You dear, sweet boy."

Spoken aloud, the words felt as empty as her prayers to the Rhalgr stone in the cesspit where they had grown up, before she had stopped praying for the purpose of being seen. She should have said them while in the Aitiascope; instead she had merely stood there with his killer at her back, while his soul poured forth his blessings and his sorrow and his final words over and over again: Captain… why?

And as always, the mission had taken priority. She had allowed him to hold off the other dead while she and her party had pressed onward.

Already her tears flowed freely at the remembrance of it, though nothing she might have accomplished in the aetherial sea would have brought him back. "If I had done right by you, perhaps-"

But that was too vain a thought to bring into being, especially for one as strong-willed as him.

"It was Ludo. Ludo told me I should have invited you to join the Riskbreakers on the day of the Amalj'aa raid, and he was right. I was scared of putting more pressure on you, of driving you further toward vengeance-" Through my example. "-but he was right, gods damn him!"

It had been the first real fight she and Ludo had ever had - the moment she should have suspected there was something irreconcilable between them for how quickly they had put themselves at odds. Even now the sound of slammed inn room doors echoed somewhere through that memory.

A bitter wind rose from the mountains, and there was no comfort in it - no sign that he or anyone else was listening.

"You would have been the best of us all," she said. "And I am tired of comforting myself by saying that we are building an Ala Mhigo you would be proud of, because no matter what we do, it would be made far better by you being here." The thought came to her every time she watched Arenvald and Bertliana laugh together, every time she thought of Gundobald and his letters.

A bhoot howled not so far away. Drenched in morning sunlight and warded by the Lily Sigil, she had precious little to fear, and yet the hollowness of the sound dragged her from her memories back to the barren gravesite.

"I'm so tired, Wilred." Her sobs had given way to a familiar sort of emptiness. "And I'm trying to see that for the blessing it is."

Ashelia Riot knelt before his sword at long last, and spoke the words that frightened her most of all.

"We will meet again, dove. I can only hope we're worthy enough to find ourselves here when we do."

[strangerrebelled]

AU 006 : 'FINAL FANTASY VII'

Tag: more than a mako sniffing dog [ff7 au]

Setting: the Final Fantasy 7 'compilation' universe

Culture: mostly Lufenian, picking up some cues from others

Locations: currently varies often, but returns home to a seaside cottage east of Fort Condor & south of Junon's mountains; born and raised on the sky-isles of Lufenia; sailed first to the three-taloned island south of the Junon Area then ventured onto the continents proper

Abilities Changes: - his 'soul burst' resonance crystallizes the fragments of lifestream within living things (the particular density & makeup causes them to look red), but the crystals aren't powerful/stable enough on their own to be used as materia - he didn't start using elemental magic until coming to the continents & acquiring materia

Occupations: currently a mercenary; former experimental fighter for Lufenia (alongside the rest of his squad & Astos)

Main Weapons: materia magic & unarmed combat

Altered Backstory: He never knew his parents, and never found out anything about them; he was given the surname of the lab's head, and thus has always presumed she was his mother. Regardless, he can't recall any warmth or kindness from her. What he did know since childhood was that he was being tested in various ways, to see if he was strong enough to become a 'reborn Cetra'. Once he was old enough and the tests were giving favorable results, he was brought to a larger lab on the central sky-isle where he finally met other kids his age - Jed, Ash, Neon, and Sophia. He and the others were given generally free reign when not in lessons or 'checkups'; while he was exploring with his friends one day, they happened upon Astos. The elf had been taken from the ocean-isles below and altered through experimentation, though not even Astos knew why. Regardless, he managed to win Astos' friendship. In the latter half of his adolescence, after a few years of training, they were all sent down to the ocean-isles to fight the monsters there (with Astos there as a guide of sorts). Ostensibly, their goal was to purge the 'darkness' across the isles to help protect their part of the planet, as well as to monitor the lifestream as aspiring 'reborn Cetras'. However, as years went on, it grew more apparent in their missions that they were only protecting Lufenia's industrial access to refine the lifestream into mako. The aim to recreate Cetras was legitimate, but only as living dowsing rods, enablers of that access to mako. Thus, he and his friends began to plot in secret... Each of them hit each of the sky-isles' main power stations, after setting up cascading failures for the backups. Jack was responsible for the one on the central isle, as it was most likely to bring all the others down with it. He poured his resonance into the mako tubes from the main console, holding out long enough for the crystallization to reach the heart of the refiner, locking up the engines that kept the sky-isle aloft. All the isles were then brought crashing down, thanks to the efforts of his friends as well. The landing was harsh, however, and they were left to seek each other out across the ocean-isles. They were injured to varying degrees, but all alive... though Astos had contracted mako poisoning. While looking after Astos, he and his friends made a makeshift boat out of one of the half-intact transports that had so often taken them down to the surface on missions. Though it was a bit of an arduous journey, they managed to arrive on the eastern continent intact. After building a home and starting up a decent goods exchange with the nearby Fort Condor, he decided to gain more supplies and bring home enough gil for Astos' treatments by taking up work as a mercenary. He does experience mild memory issues due to the years of experimentation and exposure to mako after the collapse, but he's mostly found ways to deal with it.

Outfit Changes:

(materia is inserted into gauntlets [hanging on coat belt when not in use], 3 for each)

[giftofthegodess]

FF7 ASMR but Orbeez are Materia.

[istanleyff7]

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 28-35

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 28-35 A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter) Scene 28

Aerith intended to find a job on her own, but Elmyra had already promptly sorted it out. It was to help the teachers at the Sector 5 House. Even though it was a job, she didn't feel that she was working because she spent most of her time playing with the children. She wanted to know about the world that she hasn't experienced. Yoko, who was older than her, had already left the house. She rented a house with a group of friends and made jewellery, which she sold in markets around Midgar. Jean and X collected machine parts from the scrapyard, polished them and sold them to people who needed them. Elmyra frowned when she told her this and ordered that she must never leave Sector 5 no matter what. 

"You said that if you restrained me, you'd be the same as Shinra. Have you forgotten?"

"I can’t believe you said that kind of stuff to your mother."

Elmyra looked very tired. Her work probably took a toll on her. If she had continued her "business" with Carlo and the others, she would not have had to work this hard. No matter how Aerith thought about it, she felt Elmyra let go of the business because of her. They were not a real parent and child, and she didn't have to care for her in the first place. Aerith wondered if she really had those inner thoughts, and she sure did. Was the given circumstances the reason why she tried to hold herself back with unnecessary words? Now, she was retaliating as a way to get back at Elmyra for tying her down.

Scene 29

"That's really sick."

"Yup, I admit it. My rebellious phase made things worse. I didn't have things to pour my heart and soul into, unlike you, Tifa."

"I really recommend exercising."

"Yeah, I’ll do that eventually."

"Yeah right… I’m sure.... You’ll do that eventually…."

"So, even though all these happened, I continued to help out at the house. The kids were so cute. They loved me. By the time I was fourteen, I didn't have much to complain about. But..."

Scene 30

After finishing work at the Sector 5 House, Aerith headed down the alley back home and saw people within the Gainsborough property standing by the entrance, unintentionally blocking it. There were two men and two women, and they seemed to be looking at the garden and the house. She recognised one of the men. His long, beautiful golden hair had not changed.

"Rodin!" Aerith called out to him instinctively. 

The face she saw when he looked back was unmistakably Rodin's.

"Yo, Aerith!" Rodin called back to her cheerfully, but for some reason, still looking about his surroundings.

"You've grown taller, haven't you? How long has it been?"

"It's been two years? Maybe slightly more than that?"

"Ahhh, yeah around that long."

She also looked at the other three to see if she knew them.

"Cheers."

Their eyes met. The young man with a large body and a boy's face raised his hand bashfully.

"Eh? Is that you, Marcellus?"

"Ah, you recognise me?"

"Of course."

Although Aerith replied that, she did not think that he was the same as back then. His physique became like his father's.

"I brought Marcellus here because, for some reason, he insisted on seeing you, Aerith."

Rodin took a step back, seeming like he made an excuse. There was a sense of discomfort. Marcellus darted his eyes from place to place and Aerith could sense his nervousness. He scratched his cheeks two or three times and started to speak in an awkward manner.

"Aerith. Firstly, I want to apologise for calling you a thief. Please forgive me. I was really a stupid kid.  I hated anything and everything about the world at that time. I didn't even control myself."

"I had already forgiven you. I'm glad you seem to be doing fine."

Marcellus's face lit up.

"Yea, I've been doing fine, thanks to you. Some thugs were chasing after me, then I ran away before a monster attacked me, and I was dying. Then I had a dream that you came to save me. For the longest time, I thought that it was a dream. Even if you were close by to me, you had no reason to save me, and you definitely couldn't be close by. But I had heard it from Carlo the other day that you knew where I was. Carlo didn't believe your reason. That's why he didn't tell anyone about it for a long time."

Aerith gave a faint smile, thinking that it was best not to deny or confirm anything. Damn you, Carlo.

"So I did a lot of research, and I've been wondering if it was the influence of the Lifestream. It's the flow of Spirit Energy. Do you know about it?"

"Nope."

She pretended not to know anything.

"Mako Energy sucks away the Lifestream..."

"Marcellus!" the young lady had been quiet the whole time, rebuked at him. "You're not allowed to talk badly about Mako Energy. I'll tell Papa if you do."

She then looked over at Aerith—

"My brother can talk about this for a super long time. Hey, have you been well?"

It was Rona.

"Yup. It looks like you're doing well too, Rona. How's Mr Meguro?"

"I can't say he's fine, but he's doing better now than when we left the slums. The air is better on the plate. You see, it's polluted and cloudy here, isn't it? I didn't know that until we left."

Rona was the same as before. She hurts people without meaning to.

"What's Carlo doing now?"

"He's working hard and is managing the business well. But I do wonder how he was during The Sector 5 Clash..."

"The Sector 5.... Clash?"

"You don't know about it?" Rona was shocked. "After Papa retired and Carlo became head of the household, the Corneo's, and some other ambitious, unknown people, came into Sector 5. Carlo and the others tried to get rid of them, and there was a bloody clash. Marvin, Roger and Bowman died, unfortunately."

"Eh...."

Aerith wondered how she could not have known about that.

"Well, things have already settled down, so there isn't an issue. And everyone has settled down where they should be," Rodin said, looking around again.

"Well then, Marcellus, Rona, are you both done? You both still can send letters in the future."

"Elmyra will be back soon. Do you all want tea?"

"I'm afraid we can't have tea either. We're actually not allowed in the Special District."

"Special District?"

"It spans from the station until here," Marcellus said. "It was established by Shinra around the time the Clash began. We weren't allowed to fight in the Special District. Anyone who breaks this rule would be executed. It was the only rule that everyone obeyed."

"I wonder what made this district special."

"Eh? Of course, it's because you're here, Aerith!" Rona could not hide her shock as she said it out loud.

"Okay! That's enough!" Rodin panicked.

"You both talked too much. Well then, let's go." Rodin urged them.

Marcellus hurriedly tried to arrange another meeting with Aerith. It seemed that he wanted to talk about the "mysterious incident". Aerith gave him a faint nod and dodged his attempt to do so. Rona invited her to come up to the plate to play, and Aerith replied that she would ask Elmyra. The four of them began leaving the alley. But Rodin turns around and points to a woman beside him. She was the one who was not introduced until the end. 

"This woman is Amber, and we'll be getting married soon. Would you please pass the news to Elmyra? It's unfortunate that I couldn’t introduce Amber to her."

Amber looked at Aerith with an angry look on her face.

↞↠

When Aerith got home, she looked at a stand, which had a vase placed on it. There used to be a television on that stand. She wondered when the television disappeared from the house.

"Ah..."

She remembered. It was a month after Elmyra severed ties with Carlo and the household. While Elmyra was cleaning the stand, the television fell over, and it broke. There was no television in the house after that. Aerith wondered if it was a coincidence or was it just to keep unnecessary information out of the house.

 Elmyra returned home late at night, and Aerith talked to Elmyra about Rodin and the others.

"Oh my, it's been a while, hasn't it? Are they alright?"

However, Aerith could tell on Elmyra's face that she was on guard.

"Hey, Mum. Do you know about the Sector 5 Clash? And about the Special District too?"

"What have you heard? We are living in a different world from those guys. It's better if you don’t worry about every little detail."

It seems that she would leave things in the dark again.

"The Special District is right here, isn't it? It's because I'm here. That's why Mum, you wouldn't let me go far away. That's the promise you made to Shinra. A promise to shut me in the Special District."

Elmyra shut her eyes and shook her head. 

"That's not it. But let's stop talking about this now. I'm tired, and whew, work was rough. The water tank in the café had broken down."

"Why don't you quit your job if it’s that tough? If you want money, why don't you get it from Shinra? You've been living on their money all your life. Nothing would change, wouldn’t it?"

Aerith knew she should not have said that, but she did. She could not see the look on Elmyra's face, and she then heard footsteps. Elmyra went up to the second floor and went into her own room.

Scene 31

"At that point, I thought that would be the end of my time in the house."

"But it had a happy ending, didn't it? I mean, you both went back on good terms."

Scene 32

Aerith thought that she could not stay in the house any longer and she was filled with emotions. Aerith firstly went back to her room, pulled out a suitcase she had never used from under the bed and stuffed a few sets of clothes, along with a few valuables, into it. Lastly, she put all the money she had earned from the Sector 5 House into her pocket and left the house. She walked down a familiar alleyway into a brightly lit street. A familiar face called out to her.

"Hey, Aerith. Are you going out at this hour?"

"I'm heading towards Sector 6."

She instinctively told a lie.

"Wait, what, no!"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to the Wall Market."

"Be careful, okay? Elmyra will cry if that happens."

As she walked along the street, she remembered her adventure with Ifalna.

『I wonder which direction is Sector 3 in?』

『Which direction is Sector 3 in?』

『I've heard that there's a church in the Sector 5 Slums. In the past, people gathered here and prayed to God, but nobody comes here anymore. I've been thinking that we should hide there a little...』

Aerith's steps became lighter. She still really liked this idea that Ifalna brought up in the middle of that adventure. The church should be far and beyond the station, outside the 'Special District'. It was the perfect place for Aerith's mood. The depressing feeling she had when she left home unbelievably cleared away. 

『Never forget that feeling, okay?』

『The feeling that you’ll enjoy anything.』

The memories of Ifalna came flooding back one by one.

Scene 33

"When you fight with a parent, adrenaline builds up in you, doesn't it?" Tifa uttered and seemed to be reminded of something.

"Yeah. That's why I couldn't stop and think about it."

"Yup. I understand."

"I've regrettably hurt people."

Tifa swallowed her breath after hearing Aerith's confession.

Scene 34

A train just pulled in at the platform of the station. That was probably the last train from the plate. Aerith glanced at it sideways and went ahead to try walking past it. This place was where she left her birth mother, and because of that, she still could not look at it directly. She felt as though the scene was still there. Suddenly, thoughts that she would be making a wrong move flashed through Aerith's mind. Was she about to make a grave mistake? The adrenaline she had felt earlier had unbelievably disappeared. The "Special District" was to protect her. Once she crosses the station, she would no longer have the protection. She stood rock still, as though there was an invisible wall ahead of her. Only the surrounding areas of the station were lit up. If she went forth, the road ahead would be dark. She could not see the future.

"Aerith?" a deep voice called out to her. 

She turned around to see a large man standing with his back to the station. He had big eyes, a big nose and a big mouth.

"Ahhh!"

"You've totally grown up, haven't you? You look like your mother."

It was Fuzz, and he was wearing the same white coat as that day.

"You've got the wrong person," Aerith lied at the spur of the moment.

Trying to get away from him, she turned her back towards the station and darted towards the darkness. She noticed that Fuzz was following her. She could not stop.

"Aerith, wait up. It's not what you're thinking."

Aerith wondered what other reasons could he try to stop her. She felt that she should not believe him and stop for him. He must have been angry and detest us. She wondered what would happen if he caught her. Aerith no longer knew where she was headed to. She was running along a narrow road, and the surroundings were a mountain of trash. By any chance...

"Jean! X!"

There was no response. Even if this were their scrapyard, they wouldn't be there at this hour. But she could not help calling out to them.

"Ahh!"

Aerith stumbled into something big and soft and fell. The suitcase she held dropped to the ground with a thud, signalling that it broke.

"Ouch..."

She did not know what was in the middle of the road at first, but it was the carcass of a dead monster. There was an unidentifiable sound coming out from it. It died not long ago. Its bodily fluids reached Aerith's feet and hands, and she felt a stinging sensation.

"You don't have to worry. That's harmless."

It was Fuzz. She looked up at him on her bottom. He was as big as she remembered him when she was seven. She noticed that the hem of her skirt was very crumpled, and she hurriedly fixed it. She looked for an opportunity to stand up and back away.

"Aerith, how could you do this to me? I've been worrying about you since then. Ever since you ran away from Shinra, I've been wondering if you've been living in terrible conditions. I heard about this from Amber, whom you met today."

"Amber!?"

Amber. Aerith met her in the evening, and she was introduced as Rodin's lover, and they were to be married. She had an angry face. Aerith then connected Amber to Fuzz. 

"Looks like you don't remember her. She was the friend who unloaded you both from the cargo train at the Sector 4 Slums Station."

"Ahh!"

So Amber was the grumpy-looking woman in the dirty work clothes that day. 

"I heard from her about where you were, and I hurriedly came over to find you. But what a close call. We almost didn't cross paths. I'm sure it was Ifalna who brought us together."

Aerith slowly stood up. Fuzz took two steps back, perhaps to assure her that he was not a threat. 

"Are you going to church, by any chance?"

"What?"

"I've talked to Ifalna about it before. She seemed to be very interested in it. When I told her I'd take her there someday, she said she definitely did not want to go. After you both disappeared, I went to look for both of you several times at the church, just in case you were both there. I prayed, but in the end, it seemed to me that there was no God."

A roar of a beast could be heard somewhere.

"That's from a monster. Here's the danger zone, especially at night. Shall we go to the church? Since we came all the way here anyway. It's not too far off from here, and it's nearer than the station."

It seemed that Aerith ran away further than she thought.

"But..."

"I see. Are you more afraid of me than the monster?"

She nodded honestly. He should already know how she was behaving towards him, and there was no point in pretending. 

"Well, I'll just walk ahead then, and you can keep a distance and follow me. If a monster comes up behind you, run away on your own. We can’t expect the vigilante corps to be here at this hour. And I must warn you, don't expect me to put up a good fight too. Just because I'm huge doesn't mean I'm strong."

With a thin smile, Fuzz walked away. His big white back disappeared into the darkness. Fuzz was right. She did not dare to go back alone on the monster-infested road. Just because they didn't appear on the way here doesn't mean they won't appear on the way back.

"Watch out!" Fuzz's voice came from a long way in front. "The monster is dead, but it's still fresh. Don't step on it."

↞↠

The "soon" was somewhat a lie, wasn't it? They had walked so far that she was doubtful of Fuzz, and after passing the carcass of the third monster, which was still fresh, they finally came to the front of the church.

"I wonder who brought them down?" Fuzz wondered as he walked up the stone steps and approached the door of the church. It was a big door. The style of the building was unlike anything Aerith had ever seen before. She could not see the entire structure even if she was looking up. She wondered what it would look like in daylight. The door opened with a squeak. Fuzz beckoned to her, and he went in. Aerith then went up the stone steps. A light, sweet scent wafted over from the church. It was a smell that Aerith knew. The inside was pitch black, but the floor at the back was slightly white.

"Look, the flowers bloom here. Regardless of whether there is a God or not, this is a special place," Fuzz said.

Aerith thought the same. Flowers bloom in special places. The same scent from the Gainsborough garden surrounded her, and she was soon faced with feelings of regret. She wondered what Elmyra was doing—wondering if she was looking for her daughter, who ran away from home. She wondered if she was going in the direction of Wall Market, taking the word of her acquaintance and believing him blindly.

"You can sleep on the bench near the flowers. I'll be near the exit.

"Thank you."

Aerith was not sleepy at all, but she did as he suggested and sat down on a bench near the flowers. She let out a big, quiet breath and felt every stiffness in the muscles of her body relax. She must have been tenser than she had realised. She felt like she was about to really fall asleep. She had to think of something. She wondered what would have happened if she had come to this church that day with her mother, Ifalna. What if the adventure had continued until the end? What would she have worked as? With little knowledge about the world, what would she have done? Would they have been able to live together on good terms? No matter how close they were, would they have disagreements? Since they were a real parent and child, would no problems arise?

"Aerith."

A voice came from a distance.

"Yes?”

"The house at Sector 3, it's still there. I've continued paying the rent since then."

"I see."

"Would you like to live together?"

She wondered what he just said to her. What did he mean?

"You'd like me to live together with you?"

There was no response.

"Fuzz?"

As she stood up fearfully, she saw that Fuzz was right next to her.

"Yeah. Let's live together, ‘I..fal...na…’"

Fuzz smiled. The pupil in his eyes seemed like it was not looking anywhere. A big hand reached out slowly towards her.

"Come here."

He was going to grab her! Aerith tried to take the suitcase and run. However, he caught her by the arm. 

"Let go of me!"

She slammed the suitcase into Fuzz's face as hard as she could. Fuzz flinched. The handle broke, the suitcase came off and flew off somewhere.

"You're heartless, Aerith."

She did not care and ran away. Weaving her way between the benches, she ran for the door. Fuzz jumped over the benches and gave chase. 

"Wait!"

There was no way she was waiting. The door was already nearby. She had to exit and run away. And what should she do after escaping? Fuzz knows where she stays. Amber, without a doubt, told him about Elmyra's house. Even if she ran away now, Fuzz would show up eventually. What should she do? Would she always have to live in fear? As long as Fuzz was around...

And Aerith eventually darted out of the door.

"Eh?"

Elmyra was there in front of her, dressed in her usual clothes as though nothing was wrong. Her face changed from surprised to relieved, and her facial expression changed a few more times. Finally, she turned serious.

"Aerith, move aside."

"Huh?" Fuzz sluggishly came out of the building, "Who’s out there?"

Elmyra hammered his throat with her weapon with all of her might. Fuzz let out a shriek of pain, collapsed and laid down motionlessly. Aerith was shocked to see what weapon Elmyra was using. It was a broom, and it seems that she had brought it here.

"Shall we go home?"

"Okay."

"You didn't leave anything behind?"

"Ah..."

She forgot her suitcase. There was something important inside of it.

"Quickly go get it."

"Okay."

She went back into the darkness of the church and went over to the flowers. She looked around and immediately saw a suitcase. The lid was open, and its contents were scattered outside. She gathered up the scattered clothes and put them back in the case, but she could not find her "treasure"—the pouch containing the materia.

"What are you doing?" Elmyra called out to Aerith, her voice audibly contained irritation.

"I can't find that materia."

Elmyra mumbled in annoyance and crouched down to join Aerith in finding it.

"It's in a little pouch made out of cloth."

"I know."

It's true. Elmyra knows everything about her.

"But, how did you know I was here?" Aerith asked while searching for the pouch.

"That's what I'd like to know too."

"Eh?"

"I knew that you ran away, and I soon went out of the house too. I thought about where you'd have gone as I ran. And then, while I was in the garden, I knew that you would have gone to the church on the outskirts of the slums."

"Why?"

"It just somehow came to my mind. Ever since you came to the house, I've had several strange experiences. I thought that it was this sort of experience again. So I went back home again and did some preparations before coming over."

"And what you prepared was a broom?"

"I wasn't exactly calm, you know. But it was useful, wasn't it? Look, Aerith, over there."

Elmyra pointed towards the densely grown flowers. In the middle laid the pouch that they were searching for. She parted the flowers away to not step on them, picked up the pouch and looked inside. The materia seemed to be glowing brighter than usual. 

Aerith turned around to look at Elmyra and was about to ask her shall they go back.

Elmyra was seated on the bench, and she was praying. She had her hands clasped at her chest, and her eyes were closed. The sight of her took Aerith's breath away. 

"I used to give thanks like this when I was a child," Elmyra said, opening her eyes as she stood up. 

She seemed embarrassed by it.

"Is it different from a prayer?"

"It's different today."

"Who did you thank?”

"Whoever told me about this place. Well, let's head out of here."

Elmyra started to walk, and Aerith followed her behind.

"Mum."

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry."

"Aerith, you’ve been talking to me normally since just now, but I'm angry with you. When I get home, you will face the music and hear everything I want to say."

"Okay～"

Both of them were completely distracted.

Fuzz had regained consciousness and was hiding behind the door. Firstly, he kicked Elmyra and sent her flying. 

"Mum!"

Fuzz tried to rush over to Elmyra and was drawing near her. She dodged his grasp, picked up the broom that she had dropped, turned around and struck the big man. However, the handle snapped right in half.

"Aerith! Come over here!" Elmyra called out to her.

Aerith ran towards her in panic. She saw Elmyra holding a gun with both hands and pointing it at Fuzz. That was the gun that Carlo had left behind. Fuzz stopped in his tracks and stared at the muzzle of the weapon.

"You take one more step, and I'll shoot you."

"Why don't you understand me!?" Fuzz yelled as he came towards them.

A shot rang. Elmyra had fired the gun. The dry sounds of gunshots echoed in the air. How many shots did she fire? Finally, they only heard the metallic click of the trigger. 

"Ifalna..."

Fuzz approached them as if nothing had happened. His lab coat was terribly stained, but there was no sign that a bullet had hit him.

"I can't believe this gun didn’t do shit!" Elmyra swore and threw her gun at Fuzz, but it flew well over the big man's head.

"Mum, let's run already..."

A bang was heard, and it was a sharp sound that cut through the air. Aerith did not know what it was until she looked at Fuzz. He was holding his left shoulder with his right hand and moaning. His blood was running on his white coat as he had been shot in the shoulder. Who had shot him? From where? Aerith looked around, but there was no shooter in sight.

"Let's go," Elmyra uttered in an awfully calm manner.

Fuzz collapsed and was writhing in pain. Aerith was not fearful anymore. He just looked so pathetic now.

"I'm sorry."

"Aerith, let's hurry."

Without delay, Elmyra started walking, holding the broken broom with both her hands. At last, Aerith apologised to Fuzz once more. She then proceeded to hug her handleless suitcase and chased after Elmyra.

"Hey, Mum. I wonder who shot him."

"I'm guessing this, but the 'Special District' probably expanded."

Ah. That makes sense. As they walked on, Aerith looked around her surroundings, searching for a black suit. Just for tonight, she felt that she could give them her thanks.

Scene 35

"What happened to Fuzz after that?" Tifa asked with a concerned look on her face.

"I never saw him again. Though, till now, I still get nervous when I see someone big."

"I see."

Whenever Aerith thought about Fuzz, she would still have mixed feelings about him. She did not want to see him again. However, she also carried guilt. Fuzz became like that because of what Ifalna and her did to him. If she never pondered about this, these feelings of guilt would continue for a long time. She wondered if she would ever get the chance to atone.

"You can talk to me about everything, okay?" Tifa assured her.

Aerith was delighted by her compassion. She wanted to tell her more.

"Well then, next up is a big one!"

"You gotta be kidding me. There's something bigger than whatever you said?"

"For that, you're right. It's about my first love."

"Oh, that's definitely something big!"

―It sounded like someone walked into the cargo hold. Tifa seemed to notice it too. They put their index finger to their lips and looked at each other. The sound of footsteps was coming closer, coming from the other side of the cargo wall. Tifa moved noiselessly to the gap in the cargo. It looked like she was waiting for the owner of those footsteps.

The time passed slowly but surely, and the footsteps came to a stop.

"It's me."

It was the voice of Cloud Strife. Tifa's expression softened.

"I'll tell you next time. About the story of my first love," Aerith whispered to her.

Cloud walked in front of them and looked at both of them with a dubious look. He made a face as though he was investigating them, and he looked ridiculous. Aerith and Tifa burst into laughter, trying to keep their silence.

-fin- ↞↠ You’re on page 142/142 of Aerith’s segment of the Light Novel Word Count: 29322 The End. Thanks for the reading!  Translator’s Note Previous Scenes: Scenes 22-27 Back to Content Page (click/tap here) Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 1 — Tifa (Coming Soon) Episode 2 ― Aerith Coda: The Investigation Unit Within the Painting follow @istanleyff7​ on twitter for updates support the TOTP translation project financially here (click/tap here)

[dansantcaparet]

Aerith, the Non-Optional Girl...

By FF_Goddess/Shiva of www.cloudandaerith.com

If you are interested in why I believe that Cloud's love for Aerith during the events of FFVII is not optional, then keep reading... Otherwise, thanks for stopping by! I hope this article gave you a clear view of why Cloud and Aerith fans believe they are the intended pairing of FFVII. :-)

Regardless of what choices you make during FFVII, it does not change these facts:

1. Cloud was attracted to Aerith from the beginning, admiring her radiant eyes and saying that her smile "was a good purchase".

* Cloud never admits any such thing about Tifa. In fact, he never makes any remarks on her appearance... ever.

2. Cloud and Aerith's meeting in the church was reproduced with Zack and Aerith in Crisis Core, giving Cloud and Aerith a direct parallel to Aerith's first romance as well as giving them a straightforward link to another canon couple in the same universe.

3. Cloud and Aerith meeting one another was described as "destiny" in multiple official sources.

4. Cloud agreed to become Aerith's bodyguard without asking for money. Instead, he accepts a date with her as payment.

* Cloud had just recently refused to fulfill his promise to Tifa, told her that her cause with Avalanche didn't mean anything to him, and also refused to help Avalanche further without being paid (and even more money than what he had received for his last mission with them).

5. Cloud smiles and laughs with Aerith. It is the **only** time during FFVII that he does either of these things.

* Tifa was not able to get Cloud to smile or laugh **at all** during the course of FFVII.

6. When Cloud is at Aerith's house, he remembers his mother telling him that the perfect girlfriend for him was someone older. As we all know, Aerith is one year older than Cloud.

* Tifa is one year younger than Cloud, which suggests that Cloud's mother would not have considered her an ideal match for her son.

7. Cloud and Aerith have a date in the park where they discuss Aerith's romantic past.

* Cloud never asks Tifa about her ex-boyfriends. In fact, he doesn't seem to care who she's been with.

8. Tifa is immediately jealous of Aerith and the bond she has formed so quickly with Cloud. The only reason for Tifa to be jealous is if she sees romantic interest between the two of them.

9. Cloud continually expresses concern for Aerith's safety whilst ignoring the fact that Tifa is in the same amount of danger. Cloud is also supportive when Aerith is frightened.

*By comparison, we have Cloud rudely demanding "Why'd you come along anyway?" when Tifa becomes scared before they jump from the train. The way he treats these two women is like night and day.

10. When Aerith is kidnapped, Cloud states he needs to rescue her "by all means!"

* Cloud ignores Tifa, who is drowning in her own guilt after the plate falls, and heads out to rescue Aerith with or without her.

11. Cloud braves Shinra HQ, a massive skyscraper crawling with his enemies, the most difficult quest he has faced so far, in order to rescue Aerith.

* Cloud is reluctant to rescue Tifa from Corneo because it means he will have to dress in drag.

12. Barret notices the change in Cloud when they are entering Shinra HQ, remarking that "there are times when even you fight for other people". This was said in response to Cloud's stony resolve to rescue Aerith, regardless of the risks involved.

* Barret knows that Cloud previously refused to fight for either he or Tifa without compensation.

13. Cloud mentions being Aerith's bodyguard right in front of Tifa. This is the deal he had made with Aerith, the deal where he is her protector in exchange for a date. If Cloud is bringing up his deal with Aerith, then that means he fully intends on collecting on that date with Aerith.

* Cloud never plans on any dates with just he and Tifa... ever.

14. When Tifa hears of Cloud's plans for a date with Aerith, she remarks rather harshly, "EXCUSE me." This was confirmed as a jealous outburst from Tifa when she saw them "developing their world together" and noticed the obvious "special bond" Aerith had with Cloud that was different than Tifa's bond with Cloud. Aerith's "special bond" with Cloud is clearly a romantic one or Tifa wouldn't be getting jealous.

* Aerith is **never** jealous of Tifa's bond with Cloud, which implies that she doesn't see anything romantic going on between the two of them. And, considering Aerith's ability to see inside the hearts and minds of others, this is a pretty profound statement.

15. Aerith's CG render is tied to her dream of riding the airship with Cloud. Cloud's CG render is of him just before he busts into Shinra HQ to rescue Aerith.

* Tifa's CG render is tied to her promise with Cloud.

16. When Aerith is feeling alone at Cosmo Canyon, Cloud tells her he is there for her and he wants to help.

17. Cloud and Aerith have a **second** date at the Gold Saucer. This is the default date for FFVII and is the only one being taken into consideration regarding the storyline. It is also the one date that makes sense as it is the **only** promised date within the game.

* Cloud doesn't date Tifa unless the player chooses to have him do so. In order to get the date with Tifa, the player has to play the game in a way that isn't considered "normal".

18. Cloud shows concern for Aerith when she cries over Tseng at the Temple of the Ancients.

* The night before the battle, when they are sitting under the Highwind, Tifa starts crying. And what does Cloud do? He looks away.

19. Cait Sith makes a prediction about "the affinity between Cloud and Aerith" which states that they are perfect for one another. He also predicts that they are destined to be married. Cloud makes no objections to this prediction, even if Tifa is present. Cait Sith remarks "Poor Tifa" regardless of whether Tifa is present or not.

20. It was confirmed that, despite the fact that Aerith dies, she and Cloud still have hope for a future together. Therefore, Cait Sith's prediction of Cloud and Aerith's "great future" stands firm.

21. Aerith is able to communicate with Cloud in his dreams due to her ability to speak directly to his heart. This implies a profound bond like that of soul mates.

22. Cloud tries to run after Aerith in his dream even before Sephiroth appeared and began to threaten her. This suggests that Cloud desperately did not want Aerith to leave.

23. Cloud and Aerith's lines together just before Aerith leaves are strikingly similar to those spoken in the play, Loveless, between a woman and her lover.

Cloud also first met Aerith under a sign for Loveless.

24. Cloud feels Aerith's presence in his **soul** and can hear her voice from distances so great that he could not possibly hear it with his physical senses.

This reinforces the idea that they are indeed soul mates.

* This kind of thing never occurs between Cloud and Tifa.

25. Sephiroth forces Cloud to beat Aerith and then attempts to make Cloud kill Aerith. This implies that Sephiroth knows Aerith is Cloud's weakness and being forced to harm her will cause Cloud the greatest amount of suffering.

26. When Sephiroth attempts to make Cloud kill Aerith, Cloud is able to resist Sephiroth's will. This is the **only** time in the game Cloud is able to overcome Sephiroth's mind control once he is under the evil maniac's influence.

27. When Aerith dies, Cloud holds her close and pours his heart and soul out in front of Sephiroth and everyone. He abandons his pursuit of Sephiroth and his quest to save the Planet, saying that none of it means anything to him anymore. And why? Because Aerith is gone.

* When Tifa lay dying in the Nibelheim Reactor, Cloud set her aside and went after Sephiroth. It was Tifa's teacher, Zangan, who considered her life more important than pursuing Sephiroth and it was Zangan who saved her life.

28. It was confirmed in Maiden of the Planet that Aerith's death broke Cloud's heart and he was consumed with grief over her death, blame toward himself, and hatred toward Sephiroth.

* When Cloud thought Tifa was dying, he said he was "really sad". o_0 Seriously?

29. Maiden of the Planet confirms that Aerith can hear the cries of Cloud's breaking heart. This ties her to his heart and soul once more.

30. In Maiden of the Planet, Aerith is surprised over Cloud's reaction to her death. She didn't realize how much she meant to him, which suggests that his feelings for her were not platonic in nature. After all, she knew they were friends before her death.

31. The game developers confirmed that, rather than the cliché of having a man die for the woman he loves, they decided to flip things and have a woman die for the man she loves. They also stated that they wanted to achieve an emotional impact on the player caused by seeing Cloud's pain ("feeling dazed at the gravity of the loss" caused by losing "someone you loved very much").

32. Cloud's companions come to offer him their condolences after Aerith's death. This suggests that they understand the depth of Cloud's feelings for Aerith.

33. Cloud alone is the one to put Aerith to rest at the spring. This indicates just how special Aerith was to Cloud.

34. After her death, Aerith can see that Cloud's heart is falling apart "from the sadness of losing her". Cloud is also being consumed by the "anger and hate he had for her being taken from him". And so we know Cloud considers Aerith's loss very personal: he "lost her" and she was "taken from him".

This suggest that Cloud considers Aerith an irreplaceable part of his life.

35. Even though Aerith was gone, Cloud continued to speak about her and remember her with fondness.

36. In the Lifestream, it is Aerith who guides Tifa into "Cloud's closed heart". What we can take away from this is that Aerith has access to Cloud's heart, even when it is closed to all others. Yet again Aerith is associated with Cloud's heart, just more proof that she is his soul mate.

37. Cloud promises Aerith that he will complete her mission and save the Planet she loved so well.

38. Cloud states that he is fighting to save the Planet and that one of the things he is fighting for is "a very personal memory". Since we know Cloud had promised Aerith that he would complete her mission to save the Planet, then naturally the personal element associated to his desire to save the Planet is Aerith.

39. Cloud also states that one of the reasons he is fighting is to free Aerith from Sephiroth's control: "Although she should've returned to the planet by now, something stopped her and now she's stuck...... We've got to set her free."

40. After Cloud defeats Sephiroth and is surrounded by Lifestream, he reaches toward the light with longing. Aerith reaches for him in return, both of them yearning to be reunited. In this scene, Cloud's actions clearly show that he wants to be with Aerith.

41. Earlier, Cloud told the Planet that he had come to show it everyone's wishes, including his and Aerith's. He then demanded an answer from the Planet.

While dangling from a ledge, he tells Tifa that the Planet had given him an answer to his wish: "The planet's answer... The Promised Land... I think I can find her there." If the Planet's answer to Cloud's question is that he can find Aerith in his Promised Land, then logically the question Cloud had asked of it previously was "How can I be with Aerith again? Where can I find her?" This shows two things: 1.) Cloud desperately wants to be with Aerith again, regardless of whether she is alive or dead. 2.) Cloud's Promised Land, the place where Cloud will find what makes him most happy, is associated with Aerith. And this is hardly a surprise since we already know she was the **only** person in the game who ever made him smile or laugh.

42. Cloud mentions his desire to be reunited with Aerith in his Promised Land right in front of Tifa, which makes it very clear that these two are not an item, regardless of what optional choices the player has made.

43. The lowest affection rating for Aerith in the game is 24. However, it is possible to completely eradicate all romantic interest in Tifa during the game, driving her affection rating all the way to zero.

So, there you go. These 43 facts remain regardless of what optional choices you make during the game, regardless of what optional scenes you get

(*COUGH*Highwind Scene*COUGH*), and regardless of which girl the **player** personally prefers. No matter what, Cloud is attracted to Aerith, protects her as his bodyguard, and goes on at least one date with her. No matter what, Tifa is jealous of the budding relationship between Cloud and Aerith. No matter what, Cloud and Aerith are confirmed to have a "special bond" and are predicted to be married. No matter what, Cloud is devastated over Aerith's death and one of the reasons he fights is for her. No matter what, Cloud is longing to be with Aerith at the end, reaching for her hand and asking the Planet how he can be with her again. No matter what, it is Aerith that Cloud wants to meet in his Promised Land. And, no matter what, it is impossible to use the affection rating system to eradicate all of the romantic affection between Cloud and Aerith.

Also, regardless of what optional choices you make, Cloud still makes his affection for Aerith clear right in front of Tifa. He calls himself her bodyguard in front of Tifa, bringing up a deal in which the result is Cloud dating Aerith. Cloud also doesn't object when Cait Sith offers to be the preacher at he and Aerith's wedding (even when Tifa is standing right there).

Cloud and Tifa fans like to assert that the High Affection version of the Highwind Scene is canon, even though they don't have any proof of this. They even go so far as to suggest Cloud and Tifa had sex under the Highwind, which is equally as absurd. And, yet, right after Cloud rescues Tifa from falling and they are clinging to the side of the Northern Crater, he says, right in front of her, that it is Aerith that he wants to see again in his Promised Land. And this is **after** he and Tifa supposedly confessed romantic feelings for one another (High Affection version of the Highwind Scene) and, according to rabid CloTis, had sex. If that is the case, then Cloud just used Tifa for sex, played her feelings, and dropped her like a rock.

Because it isn't Tifa that Cloud wants to be with in the place of supreme bliss (his Promised Land), it's a completely different woman (Aerith).

Also, Cloud demanded an answer from the Planet, remember? This is after he showed the Planet his wishes. His answer was that he could be with Aerith again if he could find the/his Promised Land. And so the wish he expressed to the Planet was quite obviously how he could be reunited with Aerith. This scene **also** took place after the supposed confession of love and alleged sex on pointy rocks under the Highwind. **IF** Cloud confessed romantic feelings for Tifa under the Highwind, then why would he be seeking a reunion with her confirmed "love rival"? **IF** Cloud confessed romantic feelings for Tifa under the Highwind, then why wasn't Tifa the one he states he wants to be with? Why wasn't his wish about her? And why doesn't he care about how she is feeling when he ignores her and says he wants to be with Aerith?

These scenes only make sense if you take the Low Affection version of the Highwind Scene into account. If Cloud and Tifa only shared feelings of a platonic nature, then they are only friends. And Cloud doesn't come off like a cold-hearted jerk who could care less about Tifa's breaking heart. If they are only friends, then it makes perfect sense why Cloud would be seeking a reunion with Aerith again instead of wanting to be with Tifa.

In my opinion, the Low Affection version of the Highwind Scene is the one being followed throughout the rest of the game as well as the Compilation (during which Cloud and Tifa are not portrayed as being in any romantic relationship and there has been **zero** progression toward a romantic relationship between them). Not only that, but the two Highwind Scenes are merely there for replay value and nothing more. While the **player** can choose for Cloud to show romantic interest in Tifa, it doesn't change the fact that he loves Aerith. In other words, Cloud's love for Tifa is **optional**.

Cloud's love for Aerith is **not optional**.

A good example is FFX, where Tidus can show romantic interest in Rikku or Lulu. Between Rikku and Lulu, it is Lulu that seems more inclined to show interest in Tidus, but it doesn't mean that either of them were intended to be Tidus's love interest. Regardless of any optional scenes or dialogues, regardless of affections levels, Tidus still loves Yuna and they are the intended pairing. The scenes with Rikku and Lulu were simply thrown in for replay value. They don't actually mean anything in the end. It is much the same between Cloud and Tifa.

Though Cloud can date Tifa, Yuffie, or Barret instead of Aerith, it doesn't change the fact that Cloud and Aerith love one another and are the intended pairing of FFVII. And, although Cloud has an optional scene with Tifa that may or may not show affection between them under the Highwind, it doesn't change the fact that Cloud and Aerith are the intended pairing of FFVII and Cloud loves Aerith regardless of any affection and/or optional scenes he might feel/share with Tifa (or anyone else).

An interesting note: Yuna is the default character for cut scenes when there is a tie, much like Aerith is the default character for the date scene at Gold Saucer, even if there is a tie between she and Tifa (or anyone else). Coincidence? I think not...

The bottom line? Cloud loves Aerith. The **player** can choose for Cloud to **also** love Tifa, but you cannot eradicate the love between Cloud and Aerith. He can love **both** Aerith and Tifa (optionally). Or he can love just Aerith. He cannot love just Tifa. This was the original intent when the game was created, regardless of the current fan-pandering stance that Square-ENIX has now taken.

One final thought in regard to Square-ENIX's fan-pandering... Throughout the Compilation and all spin-off games in which Cloud, Aerith, and Tifa appear, Cloud x Aerith gets actual solid proof while Cloud x Tifa gets fluff that seems to satisfy the fans, but doesn't actually have any true meaning to it. Want proof of that? Just read through my site... ;-)

[the-wardens-torch]

Febhyurary: Day 20 - Soul

((I’m so sorry for this one, its practically incomprehensible unless you’re read everything I’ve written about Fal over the past 6 years. In summation, Fal’s little spirit bee companion Ruby is actually the remnants of another creature who used to be bound to his father. When Fal was (still)born, she willed herself into his form to bring him back to life. These days she’s just a ghost of what she once was - having willed most of her aether into Fal to “fix” him.  But in areas/situations where there’s a surfeit of aether, she can regain her true form and her sentience for a brief time. Just… imagine this is one of those times.))

“How wonderful to see you again.”

Falerin recognized the creature before him immediately. The emaciated, hyur-like body with skin of washed-out green, the mane of flames that waved as if underwater, the fiery pits for eyes.  

Ruby?

The creature clasped its hands together and its fiery eyes burned brighter, leaking happy tears of white-hot sparks.

“Falerin.”

It lingered over each letter of his name as if it were the petal of a flower.

“There are things you want to know… Things I wanted to explain to you. But its… so hard.”

Ruby floated weakly towards him and fluttered to his shoulder. Though she was out of his field of vision, he could somehow still see her as she leaned against his neck, resting her head wearily in the hair just behind his ear. Her limbs sprawled doll like to her sides as she let the whole weightlessness of her body fall on him.  Her eyes were closed now, and the light that had formerly shown from her eyes was dim… And the only warmth and brightness to her was in the exhausted and contented smile that crossed her face.

Something stirred in his chest as if alive, straining within his physical body towards the tiny form on his shoulder. The threads of his muscles, bones and organs resisted its pull, weaving a silken cocoon of protection.

I need you… I’ve always needed you. But why?

“Forgive me for taking back my gift… I promise you… it shall only be for a moment.”

“Your father has told you that I served him before you were born, and that much is true. How cruel he was… How callously he plucked me from my rightful place in Nald‘Thal‘s halls… Where I and my brethren-who-were-one guided souls to the Lifestream.”

The form on his shoulder was motionless, except for the tear-sparks leaking from her tiny eyes.  

“Before then I did not know what it was to be alone. I had no self to feel lonely, but he gave me form… Imprisoned me into a single being... He endowed me with self-awareness, only so that I could be aware of how much I‘d lost. I could no longer see the souls I once guided, nor could I feel the presence of my brethren-who-were-one.”

The smile faded from her lips for a brief moment, and the vision of her darkened along with it.

My father took you from your realm against your will and made you a slave.

The change in perspective made his mind go hazy.  His father had made it sound like summoning her had been a gift and a triumph. Suddenly Ruby opened her eyes again, clearing the haze.

“I am so sorry. I want you to feel neither guilt nor shame, and it is selfish of me to pass along my pain to one as innocent as you. Your mortal mind craves knowledge and factual revelations.  And it does so deserve them, sweet child.”

She rose to her feet and embraced all of him that she could fit in her tiny arms. They barely spanned the distance from his jaw to the back of his head.

“When your newborn soul entered the life stream, it had enough of your father’s aether on it for me to sense it. But I knew that its presence in the Lifestream could mean only one thing. It had never bound to its mortal body.”

Not dead, but had never been alive in the first place. Stillborn.    

“Perhaps I should have let it stay that way… but in that tiny, weak soul, I saw hope. For myself, and for you.  So I reached out for it. Poured every bit of what I was into it, not knowing what the consequences would be. At the time I didn’t see the irony of it all… My trying to impose consciousness upon another being just as your father had done to me. But I know that I made the right choice.”

His vision of her began to shift in that moment.  Her skin reddened, and her arms began to shorten and split into insectile legs.  They were running out of time.

“I lack sentience in this form… I can neither speak to nor understand you, But I feel your sorrows and your joys.  And most of all, your love.  Thank you, Falerin. When  you return to the Lifestream, so will I, and I do not know whether our souls will remain entwined as they are. Perhaps the link between us will be severed permanently, and I will return to my brethren in the Heaven of Fire. Perhaps some part of me will come with you to the next life, perhaps it won’t. But I would do what I did again and again. Remember.  I may be a part of you, but you are and always have been...”

My own.

[sahbibabe]

Inferno

Soulmate AU

Sephiroth/Fem! Reader

You visit Seventh Heaven, catch up with Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge, and meet Barrett and Marlene.

You learn a little bit more about Sephiroth from the man himself, but not in a way you can understand.

WHEN YOU COULD SPARE the time, you visited Seventh Heaven for once, and not the other way around. While you were very aware of avalanche and who that entailed, it didn't stop you from frequenting the bar from time to time, and it most certainly didn't stop you from delivering tea to Wedge whenever you could just to visit his cats.

      You were surprised, upon entering, to find the place crowded and not at all deserted like you had expected. Tifa was pouring up drinks by the dozen and had no end in sight as people kept coming up for more; you even saw Cloud in the back with her, almost frenzied as he tried to keep the orders correct and going to the right people.

       "[Name]!" Jessie's voice was like the crack of a whip over the throng of noise. You turned to face her table, where she sat with Biggs, Wedge, a man who appeared more muscle than bone, and a little girl in a cute pink dress who was talking animatedly to said man. "Over here!"

       It was better than braving the crowd around the bar, you decided, after taking a glance at the riot of alcohol being tossed around.

        You approached cautiously, wary of drunkards who stumbled and laughed near you, and Jessie finally got impatient enough to jump up and yank you to the table, plopping you down in a seat across from the little girl in pink.

        "[Name]!" Wedge cheered, giving you a tiny wave with a surprised look when you looked him dead in the eye. "It's nice to see you! Want some chips?"

         "Oh, no thank you." You held your hands up and waved his offer off. Chips didn't sound like a very good appetizer to you, and you had only come for a Cosmo Canyon to unwind a bit. You would probably be getting neither. "I appreciate the offer, Wedge."

        Biggs, a grin on his face, reached around Jessie and patted your shoulder. "Barrett, Marlene, this is [Name]. She's the local tea supplier up near the station."

         You smiled politely at them, only jostling when Jessie managed to shove a glass of beer in your hand. You never did favor beer, or any alcohol in particular, though Tifa had somewhat succeeded in getting you to like the Cosmo Canyon as long as it had a wedge of lime in it.

         "It's nice to meet you both," you said, unflinching underneath Barrett's hard stare. You had a feeling that he did that to all the new people he met. "I'm [Name], like he said, but I only run the tea shop. I'm not much of a supplier."

        Barrett grunted at you, keen on going back to speaking to Marlene, but the little girl's eyes were fixed on you, her mouth open wide. She was absolutely adorable and you were having a hard time not snatching her up and cooing over her like a grandmother.

        "Hello," you greeted her again, waving your hand at her with a smile. "You're Marlene, aren't you?"

         As you interacted with the girl, you found it difficult not to ignore the holes that Barrett was burning in your skull. The little girl was obviously someone important to him, but no one seemed to want to tell you just how.

        "Hi," she responded shyly. You held out your hand to shake, just to appease Barrett, and she shook it slowly. "I'm Marlene."

        "That's a pretty name," you said, and it was--you had never heard much like it. "I love your dress."

        "Thank you! Daddy bought it for me. I really like your feathers."

        You had almost forgotten Sephiroth's feathers at your hip--touching them mindlessly, you smiled at her, and plucked one of the smaller ones from your bundle. It was one of the prettier ones and shone like oil slick, and under Barrett's approving stare and nod, you handed it to Marlene.

        "Here you go. You can have one, since you like it," you said. She took it from you gently, watching the different colors bounce off under the lights. "Take good care of it, okay? That feather is rare."

       "I will!" Marlene promised, clutching it to her chest--very gently, you noticed. Then, she held it up in front of her father's face, chortling,"Look! Look! Miss [Name] gave me a feather!"

        "I see that," he began,"but what do you say?"

        "Huh?"

 

        You watched, amused, eyes crinkled, at the interaction. Parent dynamics always fascinated you to no end, especially since you had a hard time remembering how your parents were with you as a child. Time seemed to take those away from you the older you got; you were only twenty-three, but your memory was as hazy as an old bat's.

         "You say thank you," Barrett was chiding her.

        "Oh!" She said, as if struck. She turned to you, her eyes bright. "Thank you!"

         "You're welcome, Marlene," you laughed, patiently, and took a sip of the beer Jessie had given you with a grimace. "Jessie, I don't even like beer."

        "You're not getting a Cosmo Canyon anytime soon, so drink it up," she said, nudging your shoulder playfully.  "And then we can help Tifa clean up after."

       "Fine. But I better get one before the night's over."

      As the hours went by and the crowd slowly thinned out, leaving crumbs of chips and open beer bottles scattered across the various tables left open, you were entertained by Marlene, who was putting the feather in different parts of her hair and grinning at you, and Jessie, who went along with you and praised Marlene's fashion choices. Barrett seemed to have no issue with you the longer you played with Marlene, choosing to speak with Biggs and Wedge about something far more serious than a feather's fashion season.

        Soon, it was Marlene's bed time and you were saying goodbye, drowsy and only a little buzzed. Barrett had offered to take you home after he tucked Marlene away, probably to thank you for occupying his daughter while he spoke about serious things, but you waved him off.

        "It's okay," you said gently, fighting through the buzz in your head. "It's only a little ways away. Bring Marlene to visit one day; tea's on the house."

        "I'm sure she'd have fun," he laughed when the girl in question nodded her head eagerly. "Come on, little lady, let's get you into bed!"

        With a farewell hug to Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge, and a wave to Tifa and Cloud, who still seemed to be busy, you stepped outside and inhaled the smell of Shinra chemicals and metal. It was a far better cry than the musty heat that had become Seventh Heaven.

        As you walked down the street to your tea shop, avoiding cats that wove through your legs, you became aware that you were being followed. The vibrating strings on your fingers told you who it was, though, so you continued walking, only stopping well out of view of Seventh Heaven and other people.

       You paused just under one of the working street lights, the others under disrepair or age, turning to face Sephiroth. He had kept his distance so far, skirting the edge of pathways and staying in the dark, but approached when you stopped to look at him.

       "Stalking isn't nice," you said by way of greeting. His eyes squinted in slight amusement, but not much. "Walk with me."

        "I intended to. Just not so close up."

        With a roll of your eyes you began walking, linking your arm with his to keep up with his longer strides. To the unwise observer, you would appear like a couple walking down the street, oblivious to onlookers, when you were anything but.

        It didn't trouble you too much that you would never have a normal relationship with him. Did it bother you that any attempt at happiness would have to be with someone else? Of course; it hurt when someone who was supposed to be your soul mate couldn't be that for you. Was unable to be that for you.

        You had decided, during one of those long showers where you wasted more water than you should have, that you would be happy with whatever moments you got with him. You would cherish them, no matter how distant he was from you, because he had lingered and watched over you; he could have left that first night and never come back.

        Instead, he had lent you his sight, given you little tokens, and even now, made sure you were safe as you walked down the road to your shop.

        It wasn't love. It was… appreciation. It was nearly a platonic acquaintanceship. You could have tacked many labels onto what you were, but one stood out the most: reluctant friends.

       "What do you do when you aren't with me?" You asked suddenly. You could feel his eyes darting to look at your face at the question, an eyebrow raised. You felt your face go hot at having to repeat yourself, flustered. "What I meant was, how do you spend your time? You never sleep, really, and I only see you at night, so…"

       "I take care of my important matters." It was so infuriatingly cryptic when you only wanted honesty. Which, he was, to a degree, but he wasn't elaborating. "Don't look so irritated. If it weren't dangerous for you to know, I would have told you."

        Dangerous. That was a word you were slowly coming to terms with when it came to him. You knew dangerous; Cloud was dangerous in a different way from Tifa, just like Tifa was dangerous in a different way from Cloud. Sephiroth was his own brand of danger, but in a more powerful way than your stressed out brain could understand.

        "Everything seems dangerous for me to know," you sighed. Then you narrowed your eyes, thankful you could see the slight twinge of a grin on his face. "Fine then. What's your favorite color?"

        "Starting with the basics, are we?"

       "I quite literally know nothing about you, except for your name and former job. This seems like a better compromise."

        "... Fair enough." You swore he was laughing at you in his head. "Green."

         "Why green?"

         "The lifestream. Your turn."

        You almost nearly stopped in your tracks at that admission, nearly pulling him with you, but you fixed yourself and continued walking, tucking that tidbit of information away for later.

 ��      "Blue. Favorite book?"

        "Dante's Inferno."

        You had no idea how much that answer would hold significance when it came to him. Later, you would understand that every word that came out of his mouth had a meaning; not a breath was wasted.

        Later, you would realize that he was descending into his own hell, and was, in his own way, telling you about it.

        Later, you would look back and lament on all the reasons why you should have caught it, but truly?

      Truly, you knew nothing about him in the first place until it was too late.

[astraladvent]

Fraternal Bonds.

((This piece is best read with this music to accompany!))

The well-dressed Sea Wolf who walked along the metal flooring of the Habisphere had been known by many names. Skoengryne Bloeberksyn, his birth name. Bloeberg Platzensyn, the name he adopted to run a company in Thanalan. That name had then been simplified to ‘Mountain’ for those adventurers who feared to swallow their own tongues pronouncing the rain-tongue. When he bonded with Grave, he took the other Roegadyn’s translated name as his own and became known as ‘Mountain Shadow’ -- though ‘Mountain’ sufficed outside of situations that required a full name. Through all those names, peoples’ perceptions of him changed; formed, reformed, whether they were insightful or idiotic. Yet, his identity remained static. 

Mountain wasn’t quite clear on why these thoughts occupied his mind in the foul skies of Azys Lla; forever an accursed place in his mind and soul -- especially the top of the Habisphere, the battle-scared rooftop cast in the sickly yellow-green and orange glow that filtered through the noxious clouds. Dead leaves on small dead saplings fluttered, and dust swept across the metal floor. His eyes moved to one of the storage rooms nearby. The small space had served as a prison for longer than he cared to admit...but he was free now. Free, with only the consequence of trauma to keep him company...not that he would let that stop him from achieving his ends. 

What he was clear on, however, was the reason he had gone to the top of the Habisphere. It hadn’t been necessary for him to go all that way, but it seemed like the best place for what he was about to do. It was a reminder of the danger, a reminder of the responsibility and the burden he carried to make sure that his power was exercised safely and with restraint. With that in mind, he plucked his grimoire from the holder on his belt. 

Flipping through the pages showed a profile of the offensive spellwork he was capable of -- the supportive codex he had left at home. Myriad diseases and magical maladies, cursed fire, boils and sores...things like that. Mountain was a man of attrition on the battlefield, though he did keep a small catalogue of ruinous bolts just in case some punch was needed. Eventually he came to the section on summoning -- the most dangerous spellwork he possessed. Shadow, Dust, and Spirit. 

It took a moment for him to steel himself, but he settled on ‘Spirit’, and began casting with a hand over the pages. There was no need for lengthy incantations; the arcane geometry did all the work. All he had to do was provide the aether --his own aether, and the aether of the entity he had bathed in at the moment of its defeat. 

Its summoning was always a strange, macabre thing -- complex in a manner that he attributed to his own viewpoint...and trauma. It appeared first as a white coffin floating five fulms or so above the ground. It was pure aether, but appeared as marble in texture. Soft radiance floated off of it; beautiful and sad as it stood as a reminder of both triumph and loss. 

The coffin cracked with a loud report that echoed across the habisphere. A jagged line down the middle that -poured- dark red blood onto the floor. Mountain glanced at his gloved hands then -- they were stained in red. It was a moment that always made his stomach lurch. Fortunately for him, the blood only remained for a few ticks. As it evaporated, the cracked coffin’s halves opened and disintegrated into a fluttering cloud of white feathers that revealed what had been contained within. 

Too look upon it was quite similar to looking upon a carved marble bust of a large Roegadyn man. There was nothing below the wide, cloth-draped chest,  nothing beyond the broad shoulders. Its face was familiar, so painfully familiar...a face he wished so very dearly to see alive in flesh again, but knew he never would. Where there was once green skin, there was now an incomplete white, aetheric simulacrum of such. Hair that was once seafoam was rendered now as diamond and glass. Its face resembled him so closely. His own face had caught up to the aged lines the entity’s possessed, but forever would their eyes be set apart. Mountain’s eyes were a clear teal, and the entities a brilliant blue. Those eyes fixed upon their summoner, waiting. 

Mountain couldn’t help himself. “Hello, Wolfy.”

He knew that this...thing...was not his brother. He knew it was a remnant of the aether of what his brother had summoned onto himself, naught but an Egi. He knew that Rysswilf was dead, his aether returned to the lifestream to drift and be reborn again as new life. Perhaps it had happened already. Still, this was something. 

The entity stared.

Carefully he stepped close to it and lifted a hand to stroke its cheek. His wish for flesh and bone had manifested somewhat -- even though it was agglutinated aether, it still felt like a man’s face under his hand. The heart-seizing mixture of comfort and pain that simple touch brought him was both cruel and deserved. “Grave will be a little cross that I’ve summoned you without good reason. I’m a little cross with myself. This bond we share is a perversion of the natural order of things. A man should not bear his own flesh and blood -- even the image of him -- as an Egi. Still, through this blasphemy against the Gods I can offer my apologies...and ask that you lend me your power in the trials to come.”

The entity stared -- it was obedient without question; Mountain’s words were redundant. A measure of comfort. Still, they counted as orders, and with a glow of its eyes, it provided a demonstration to assure its summoner that its power was his. 

The fluttering leaves stilled. The dust being swept around suddenly held, clouds of stained cotton suspended in the air. Outside of an area of ten yalms or so, all went on as normal -- but inside, everything save a miniscule radius around Mountain and his Egi were locked in temporal hold. Slowly, Mountain smiled at the impassive white face of his brother -- no, of his Egi. 

“Thank you.”

[cultivatxr]

real name:  Aerith Faremis Gainsborough

single or taken:  Single and not actively looking, (although still dabbling in the casual blind date pool.)

abilities or powers: Empathy, botany, ability to tap into and commune with the lifestream; embodiment of planetary goodness, the pout™.

eye colour:  Emerald green.

hair colour:  Chestnut brown; although with a fairly pronounced auburn undertone in Summer.

family members: Elmyra Gainsborough - her adoptive mother.

pets:  None, sadly. Although she does have a hankering for a small army of cats.

something they don’t like: Inhumanity, wastefulness, liars, people that don’t take their shoes off indoors, unreliable public transport

hobbies/activities: gardening, ballet, reading, yoga, sewing, arts & crafts (particularly painting)

ever hurt anyone before:  Unfortunately yes, but rarely intentionally.

animal that represents them:  A dove; possibly a doe.

worst habits: Permanently inclined towards self sacrifice, meal skipping, questionable sleeping patterns, altogether too blindly trusting of strangers, a perpetual fan of clutter, resolutely stubborn to a fault.

role models: As sappy as it is, Elmyra is probably one of her prime role models. She’s the woman that’s instilled so much warmth into her, always making the best of a bad situation, teaching her to be humble and grateful for what they do have in life rather than what they don’t. Much like Iflana before her, she’s the embodiment of goodness and the sort of compassionate and kindhearted person Aerith aspires to be.

sexual orientation:  Living that best demisexual life.

thoughts on marriage/kids:  Marriage is a subject she’s not given much thought to; though for the most part her views align with preferring a solid relationship as opposed to validation from a piece of paper. Children on the other hand, are a contentious topic that has dominated her thoughts for much of her adult life. She likes the idea of motherhood; she’s got so much love to share - but the practicality means she’s rendered it an impossibility. For all of her wants and desires, there isn’t a single part of her that would inflict her childhood on anyone else. She doesn’t want a child to become an experiment, doesn’t want them to sacrifice innocence and joy for the sake of some questionable bloodline. Admittedly it does leave the door open to adoption, but she’s more or less resigning at this point in time to family being a luxury she can’t entertain.

style preferences: Colour and comfort! Aerith is a fan of colours far more so than monotones, particularly pinks and reds - with an even greater soft spot for patterns of the floral variety. She tends to favour dresses and skirts moreso than trousers, mostly to keep some air of femininity while spending her days scrounging around in the dirt of her garden - but she does appreciate a good set of dungarees when the need arises! The majority of her clothes are thrifted or handmade and there’s no overriding theme exactly to her wardrobe, it’s just a mishmash of styles and creations that help to embody her personality on a specific day. It’s eclectic, much like the flower girl herself.

approach to friendships:  Everyone is a potential friend until proven otherwise! Aerith grew up with very few friends, and as such she’s made it her life’s mission to extend the hand of camaraderie where possible. She wants to make sure nobody else is ever as isolated as she was, to share the warmth and joy of companionship that she wholeheartedly believes everyone deserves. In a lot of ways, her friends are her found family, and they’re as near and dear to her as any blood relative might be. So she pours her heart and soul into maintaining them. She listens, she laughs, she  cries, she shares her whole being with them, unconditionally.

thoughts on pie: It’s overrated, but sweet pies are infinitely better than savoury.

favourite drink:  Fruit juice; water, obscenely milky tea.

favourite place to spend time at: In the garden, although admittedly anywhere outdoors.

swim in the lake or in the ocean:  Both? Wide expanses of any open water are delightful.

their type:  Fans of immaculate tailoring. Passionate souls with kind hearts. She favours romanticism and those that are optimistic, people that live their lives without inconveniencing others, finding joy where they can and clinging to it with both hands. She appreciates people with different opinions, people that are willing to engage her in debate and challenge her, to inspire her to be better and to somehow become more. Yet at the core of it, her type is someone that accepts her, that loves her, and that embraces who she is, in all of it’s complicated and flawed glory.

camping or indoors:  Camping, gotta love all that fresh air!

Tagged by: the absolute bae @goldenornstein​

Tagging: @giftofthegodess​, @apathetic-ruler​, @missionheartcd​, @heavenlyfighter​, @faytheart​, @cavusvitae​, @fistsfromhell​ + you! 

[thanidiel]

Prompt Seventeen: “Faded”

[Very vaguely placed post 5.3 Shadowbringers MSQ]

                                     “Why does it all fade away…?                             …Ah, I understand. It feeds on my spite.                                              On my suffering…”

Of everything that has come to pass, and will pass, it is Yotsuyu’s legacy that forever stings in dream and step. It does not haunt, it does not plague; it is not so invisible, so transparent. It imbeds. It sinks. It calcifies, and in that, the burden never leaves the body.

Not unless you wrench it out, intrusion and all.

But she doesn’t want to.

It feels… wrong.

Out of balance.

In-yo; yin-yang; dark-bright - do they not all ache with the weight of their duality? The pain of nurturing the leaden pearls of their other? How could she toss away what was the most precious thing ever shared with her? Deny the nephrite duty placed and cradled into her hands as though she were this fable of creation’s luminance?

Well.

She could chalk it all up to this poetic bullshit. And she does half of the time, in all honesty. It’s comforting to place the blame on cosmic things, as though there were no control to it, as though Fate had simply made things exactly so. It’s easy too, to retreat back to the neat columns of endless artistry she’s poured through over her life. And what comes easy, makes better sense than being upset in the dark.

But she should be honest with herself if she’s not going to be honest with anyone fucking else.

It feels wrong… because of all of that. And it feels wrong because how can you rip out the sorrow of someone who was exactly like you? Just because you don’t like it nesting there, because it’s uncomfortable? To be reminded always that you, too, were a doll on Garlean payout?

That’s just unfair.

These are the people that are most important to remember.

Not the heroes, not the villains, not the innocents, and not the bystanders. Not your loved ones, or hated ones, or ones you don’t think about until it’s convenient to give them a fond look about the roles they’ve played.

It’s every person who walked down the exact same road you did.

And for whatever reason, you lucked out, and they didn’t.

It is not what stirs in this soul, this person, her, that makes her any better than Yotsuyu. It doesn’t matter how special everyone thinks she is, whatever names and memories she sparks in wights that should have toppled over long ago.

Fact is, happy endings have nothing to do with the person.

Some people go tumultuous and ugly into the Lifestream just because that’s how it is, and there’s nothing bittersweet about it. It’s a whole bundle of meaninglessness that everyone forgets until they have that friend, or that sibling, that parent or child, that just always seems to be slipping on the banana peel every time they try to fucking get back up and walk with the rest of us.

So maybe being a hero is less about cockblocking the next disaster, and more about understanding why you aren’t much of a hero after all.

And understanding how close everyone else could have been in your not-heroic place too.

Because then it highlights that you, yourself, are one banana peel into getting all of those boots in your face just like them.

In-yo.

Yin-yang.

Dark-bright.

Come Moon - come Sun.

You’re always one moment away from being the antithesis of everything you once stood for.

The only thing you can do is know this, and keep the balance.

Let the light sing baleful against your skin; let the night dew dampen it.

Don’t let your mirror be forgotten.

…yeah, fuck, she’s getting poetic again.

[runicmagitek]

A Brand New Kind of Free (Day 3 of Tifa Week)

for the alt prompt: "I'll never be perfect, but at least now I'm brave. Now my heart is open and I can finally breathe." - Brand New Me by Alicia Keys

featuring some post-canon Tifa/Rude

Meteor was gone, but it wasn’t enough. The Lifestream prevented the planet’s demise and turned a blind eye to the survivors of the near-apocalypse. Tifa poured her soul into securing victory. They won. The fight was over, yet it had only begun. Most returned home to recover and rebuild. Tifa didn’t blame them, but what home was there to return to? She already experienced that loss before.

Standing in the ruin that was Midgar, she wondered if it was even her place to help.

She never expected to run into him, of all people. How the Turks survived puzzled her, though she refrained from asking; despite Shinra’s collapse, their former association hung over them like a phantom.

“I don’t need your help,” Tifa reminded Rude every day.

He tilted his head in her direction, sunglasses blocking whether he looked to her. “I know.”

[read more on AO3]

[sapphire-weapon]

wuekka replied to your post: i’m watching a fellow theory crafter’s video on...

Can I get a link to that? If it’s not about time travel theory :’D

here.

i’m putting it in its own post so other ppl can see too. now, there is an element of time travel here, but it makes 100% complete sense within the pre-established lore of the series and is explained in a way that doesn’t make me want to tear my own skin off and throw it at ppl’s heads.

i accept this theory... for now. the guy who made the video is going to create a part 2, and we’ll see how far he actually goes with this BUT

the basic rundown of this is (for people who don’t feel like sitting through an hour-long video):

1. the lifestream is keeping sephiroth’s consciousness imprisoned, so his goal during this game is to break free from his imprisonment -- which he does when we defeat the harbinger.

2. fate occurs in cycles and is dictated by the flow of the lifestream

3. because fate and time are connected and both are managed by the lifestream, sephiroth uses his position within the lifestream to contact cloud at the start of OG in an attempt to break this cycle. he’s able to do this using the jenova cells present in cloud’s body.

4. basically, time is as fluid as the lifestream itself in FF7′s lore. the theorycrafter explains this in better detail with evidence from the compilation itself.

5. the whispers are the souls of the dead who have not yet fully assimilated into the lifestream. a vast majority of these can reasonably be assumed to those suffering from geostigma, as the planet will not allow these people to assimilate. others, like jessie and biggs, refuse to assimilate due to their own overwhelming guilt over their actions in life.

6. the gold glitter at the end of the game are the souls of the whispers now having been healed of sephiroth’s influence and either returning to their bodies or falling back into the planet to properly join the lifestream. this is how biggs and zack survive at the end. this does not necessarily mean that they are in an alternate timeline. only just that they’re both alive and out there somewhere now.

7. once sephiroth is defeated at the end of the game, he regains all of his memories of his humanity. (on the way to a smile confirmed that he poured all of his remaining humanity into the summoning of meteor to strengthen it.) this is why he seems so different at the edge of creation.

8. so, yes, there are two sephiroths running around now, but one (the edge of creation sephiroth) only exists in cloud’s head now (because, again, in on the way to a smile, sephiroth literally fused himself to cloud’s soul). the antagonistic sephiroth that we’re going to have to deal with for the entire rest of the remake will be the sephiroth who’s currently still bisected and chilling in the north crater -- who undoubtedly has been watching all this shit go down and knows what’s up.

9. this motherfucker seriously implied at the end of this video that rufus’s mother was a cetra and i cant

i cannot

fuckign

deal with that right now.

[xenoialia]

Tooth and Nail

One hundred years, two hundred years.

The results of his work piled up before him: deformed limbs and split skin, fragile flesh moulded around broken cores of power they were unable to contain. The hoarse, dying sounds of some unidentifiable emotion, torn from half-developed vocal cords and collapsed lungs. Beyond the dark walls of his workplace, there was no creature that could be considered remotely close to a living being.

The headway he had made into his research had been minimal at best, fraught with obstacles in every nook and cranny. The last one he had created was nearly perfect, born only with weak lungs and a small, nearly unnoticeable deviation in its eye color. However, in his eyes, there was no room for imperfection, and that specimen had been tossed into a pile of its brethren, left to mindlessly struggle and fight as the others converged upon it, ripping flesh from muscle, muscle from bone. He had ignored the screams and turned right back to his notes. There was no room for mistakes here.

The fragile binding of aether to his dear friend’s soul would begin to dissipate yet again in less than a decade, and the lack of grounded body would complicate the process and set back what would have been centuries of memories. The risks were mountainous and considering the state of a sundered soul, fragile and tattered, these were risks that Alchaeid was not willing to take if anything could be helped. Made of clay, and given life through voidmagicks and the careful application of white, each body was given a core in which a soul could rest, where it would be contained and grounded and unable to dissipate into the lifestream. And yet.

 Despite the research, the experiments, the multiple trials, each body was rejected, one after the other, tossed onto its piles of brethren and left to rot. All the work, several hundred years worth of trudging through muck and pain and blood and sweat, not even their powers as a demi-primal could help them in such an endeavor. Q’aratsal’s pained cries still ring in his ears, as the white mage poured ever more aether into each body, leaving him drained and quiet and fragile, only for them to turn out just on the side of not quite right.

Alchaeid can’t help but think, sometimes, if they even remembered how their dear friend looked, felt, tasted. Maybe their memories were now just figments of their imaginations, of a longing borne from their desperation of finally, finally being able to touch their friend (lover) without fear of the sense of regret and guilt that burdens them after.

A sigh, and shaking away his thoughts, he turns once more to the clay and the notes and the empty table...and what seems to be a dream, forever out of reach.

[alphawave-writes]

Prophets and Messengers final chapter: Beyond Touch

Synopsis: Now immortal, Sigma and Harold share a tender moment as they plan the next stage of their lives together.

Read it here on or AO3. You guys can also find me on twitter @alphawave13.

If you like my writing, please do support me by buying me a ko-fi, becoming a patron on Patreon or requesting a fanfic commission from me. Especially with COVID, any little bit helps me out a lot.

-

Sigma awoke in a cart of all things, travelling along an abandoned road. There was patches of green amidst the drab yellow sand, the sun setting over the horizon. What looked to be a winding river of crystal blue rolled over the flatlands. He glanced down and noticed that his clothes had been changed, replaced with something more similar to what the Oasis locals wore. His hands were bandaged and bruised, the golden jewelry of the priests now adorning his fingers but otherwise he was fine. A donkey was pulling the cart slowly, led forward by a man in familiar clothes.

Sigma shifted, catching the man's attention. They turned around and smiled warmly. Sigma could not see their face clearly, but he didn't need to. From the warmth that enveloped his core at the sight of this man, he already knew exactly who it was.

"Welcome back, Siebren," Harold said softly.

Sigma sat up slowly, only to smack his elbow into something. There were a lot of jars in the cart he was in, as well as a few boxes with rattling coins, as well as some baggae filled with extra clothes. They all clinked around within the cart, making their contents known to anyone who dared be near them. "How did we not get attacked by bandits?" Sigma's eyes wandered the horizon. "Where are we?"

"I pulled a few favours from your guards to sneak us out, and I paid them for their trouble. As for where we are, well…I'm not so sure about that." Harold glanced at the sunset. "We're heading East though. Away from Oasis."

"So this is it then. No turning back," Sigma said. He felt for the spirits' presence and was relieved to find that they had settled down somewhat, their strength renewed. Sigma focused his power and was surprised to feel the presence of something else inside of him. A new well of energy, vast and limitless and brilliant and destructive like the sun. He'd felt this energy before, every time his skin ever made contact with Harold.

He turned to Harold, eyes wide and mouth agape. Harold let go of the reins to the donkey and reached out for Sigma's hand. Their energies swirled around each other before combining together. It was one and the same. This power was one and the same.

"You're immortal now," Harold said. "Just like me."

"Immortal?" Sigma whispered.

"That was the only way I could save you. I saw your lifestream, and it was broken to pieces. If I didn't do it, then you'd be dead. I couldn't save you either way, I had to, I…" Harold took a shuddery breath in and out. "I'm sorry. I panicked, and I didn't want to let you go, and now you're cursed like me."

Sigma stared deeply into Harold's eyes. They appeared almost golden in the dying sunlight. "You didn't want to let me go?"

"I didn't say I love you because it was the heat of the moment," Harold chuckled bashfully. "Or perhaps you didn't understand me then. Would it make more sense if I said ik hou van jou?"

Sigma's cheeks went crimson. "Y-you didn't…"

"I never did tell you I used to live in the Lowlands myself for a bit." Sigma could hear Harold's smirk even if he couldn't see it all that well. "I might have picked up the local language during my stay."

Sigma turned his head away. "So ever since the night of the full moon, you…"

"I know you love me, Siebren. For a long while now," Harold said. "And if we're being honest, I've probably loved you for even longer than that."

Sigma went silent for a few moments, taking in the sunset, the slight breeze, the soft bushes and the flowing river and the skittering animals. He must have passed through this place at least once. He didn't just stumble into Oasis with no memory, he was guided there by maps and equations, back when he was still blessed with the sense of sight. But did his younger self, with crystal clear vision and a sharp mind, truly see this sprawling, beautiful landscape? Did he appreciate the chaotic beauty of nature? Did he see the magic in life? Of course he didn't. The grass was greener on the other side. Only when he lost his vision could he truly see the world for its tragic beauty.

The cart was still steadily moving, the donkey not slowing one bit. Sigma’s eyesight was still horrendous, but he saw the teared edges of Harold's clothes, the purple knuckles and scratched red arms, and the lethargy in Harold's movements. It must not have been an easy feat to sneak out of Oasis. Talon had its clutches on the city, and they would not rest until they had the ultimate power of limitless life. Harold would have fought, but the idea of Harold fighting his battles was not a pleasant one. He wanted to protect, not be that had to be protected. But then again he could not see this coming. He suspected not even the spirits did.

Sigma floated up and out of the cart, moving side by side with Harold. He turned to Harold and nodded his head sharply. Harold let out a quiet sigh as he rested his head on Sigma's shoulder. In turn, Sigma wrapped his arm around Harold's waist and floated him up, letting both their feet hover just above the ground. A small comfort, but it might be enough.

"So what do we do now? Now that we're immortal, I mean," Sigma said.

"I don't know," Harold admitted. "You?"

"I'm…I'm not sure. I don't know what is out there anymore. There are humans and animals, but also other beings in a realm just beyond our reach." He reached his hand out to the sky. "They're watching us, even now. Waiting to make their move, for good or evil or none of the above. Now that I've been uprooted from my home, I might never know who or what they are. My greatest experiment might never be solved."

"Again, I'm sorry," Harold frowned.

"Don't be," Sigma said, letting his face soften. "You saved my life."

Harold rubbed the back of his head bashfully, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips. "I didn't give you the elixir just because I've got feelings for you. I've seen the way you pour yourself into research, the joy it brings you, the structure it provides. Given the gift of infinite life, you'd make great things, I'm sure of it." Harold's smile faded. "If I'm lucky, I might be able to tag along for the ride. Make my mark on the world—a good one, that is. So far all I've done is bring disaster to everybody around me."

"You don’t bring disaster," Sigma said.

"Then what about this situation? We won't be able to know peace. We each have our own ghosts chasing us. We can't die naturally, but that doesn't mean we can't be killed. Soon as our enemies find this out, they will not rest." Quieter, Harold said, "I don't want you to fight my battles, Siebren. Just as I'm sure you don't want me to fight yours."

Sigma turned his head away, frowning deeply. That was the big thing still. They may both be immortal, but they may not necessarily be immortal together. Even bound together like this, they could still drift apart. Their demons were still chasing them, and they'll follow them both to the ends of the Earth, possibly for all eternity.

"You saved my life," Sigma repeated slowly.

"You said that already," Harold remarked.

"Because you saved my life more than once," Sigma replied. "I've done horrible things, Harold. Unspeakable monstrosities commanded upon me by both Talon and the spirits. They feed on my weakness, both of them, like leeches to the jugular artery, and I barely escaped with my life. I could've squatted at any abandoned building, but I chose the temple because it was far away from everybody. Nobody would judge me for the monster I was. Nobody would ever be harmed by me. When rumours of the Oracle emerged, I had enough money to hire some guards, but most obey me because they fear what I can do. You were the only one to see me as a man."

"Siebren," Harold whispered.

"I don't know what you see in me, I don’t. You see me as something capable of so much good, even though I’m not. You believe that I am special, and that I am worth loving." Siebren frowned. "Maybe if I hear it enough, I’ll believe it myself. Even without any evidence.”

Harold smiled softly. “This is what I mean.”

Sigma tilted his head. “About what?”

“About loving you for all eternity.” The strings reappeared between their chests, and Harold plucked one gently. A wave of warmth caressed Sigma from the inside out. “You really are my soul mate.”

Sigma felt for one of the strings and stroked it. Heat collected near his lips. From the way Harold's eyelids fluttered, the same occurred on his lips. “And you are mine,” he said.

“Is that a promise?” Harold whispered, eagerness and trepidation and hesitation staining his voice.

Sigma smiled shyly. “Only if you will let me.”

Harold giggled, his hand rising up to hide his gorgeous smile and his crimson cheeks. “I’m holding you onto that promise. I don’t wanna let you go that quick.”

Sigma gently guided Harold's hand away from his face, pulling it down so they could entwine their fingers together. “I think you’ll find I’m very hard to get rid of once I’m attached to someone.”

“Good,” Harold squeezed back. “So am I.”

They took turns walking the donkey and the cart, conserving their strength for a journey of untold length. A small town was just in the distance, with light and food and drink, and most important of all, an inn they could shelter in. As they entered the inn, Sigma noted the scent of cooked meats and the clink of jugs of warm beer. The local drunks were lounging in a corner while a couple of men smoked from an Argilah. Between the two of them, they had plenty of coins, not that it would do much for them once they passed the border. They might as well be frivolous tonight. This might possibly be their last night in relative comfort, at least for a while.

They ordered the best food and drank the local beer, chatting freely about anything and everything that came to their mind in a quiet corner of the inn. It only seemed right that Sigma opened up about everything. It was the least he could do, to repay for all the times Harold had opened his mind up for Sigma's probing. The very first thing that they both learned was that Sigma was a lightweight and Harold evidently was not. Sigma cradled his first and only beer, not even a quarter empty, while Harold had already finished half of his second. For every story that Harold weaved with his words, Sigma did his best to reciprocate with a story of his own. When Harold talked about his studies, so too did Sigma. When Harold spoke about his travels, Sigma recounted the perilous journey he took to get to Oasis from the Lowlands, and his inability to pick up the local accent. When Harold said he first fell in love with Sigma less than a week after meeting him, Sigma shyly admitted that he loved him since the incident at the springs, but only acknowledged it after that moment they shared under the full moon.

They laughed and smiled, their worries and fears gone for this fragile moment of peace they shared together. Maybe the beer had intoxicated him and clouded his mind, or maybe he was drunk off Harold’s presence, but Sigma felt bold as he conspired ways to touch Harold. A hand on a shoulder. A thumb to wipe away the beer foam from plump, kissable lips. A teasing little nudge with his foot to Harold’s knee.

Harold chuckled coyly as Sigma's toes rested on his leg. “Bit forward, aren’t you?”

Sigma smirked as he pulled his toes up, trailing over Harold’s inner thigh. “By my calculations, if I stimulate this erogenous zone for approximately two minutes more, our trajectory will be towards the newest bedroom.”

Harold spluttered with a laugh. “OK, first of all, that’s a horrible pick-up line.”

“I am assuming there’s a ‘second of all’,” Sigma raised his eyebrows

“Second of all,” Harold grabbed Sigma’s foot under the table, massaging the sole lightly, “you are a jerk and you’ve severely underestimated how much I want to be alone with you.”

“We were alone on the cart for hours today. Unless you're worried the donkey was going to blab to its friends,” Sigma smirked.

Harold slapped him lightly on the arm. “Get a room already.”

“Alright, alright,” Sigma laughed.

The process of getting a room was rather simple. They paid the money for a single room and were given a sign to hang, a number that matched the number of their door. The bed was decent, and the view outside their room wasn't spectacular, but it was theirs for this brief night, and that was all they needed. They dropped their belongings carelessly on the floor and then collapsed onto the bed side by side. For a few minutes Sigma stared at the empty ceiling, trying and failing to glimpse into the future. The spirits were displeased with him, but even if they weren't, they couldn't see what his future held anyway. He was unbound from time, an array of infinite possibilities at his fingertips, extending far beyond like branches from a tree. And his tree would continue to grow for as long as he still lived.

He could ponder more on this question, but for once he didn’t want to think. He found Harold’s hand beside him and squeezed. Not a moment later, Harold shifted so he was lying on top of Sigma, placing a small kiss to his lips. This simple kiss escalated to something more as their mouths slid open and their tongues darted out, tasting the cooked meats from each other's mouths. Sigma gave, and Harold took, letting himself get washed away from this simple, worldly pleasure as Harold stole his breath away. By the time they finally separated, only minutes had passed, and yet it felt like an eternity. What Sigma wouldn't give to spend an eternity touching and kissing Harold.

Sigma ran his thumb over Harold's bruised lips, staring up at the most beautiful man in the world. A smile peeked out, and then Harold parted his lips slightly and took Sigma's thumb in, sucking lightly.

“Harold…” Sigma whispered.

The thumb slid out from Harold's mouth with a pop. “How far do you want to take this tonight? I’m up for anything and everything, if you’ll let me. We could sleep, we could kiss until morning light, or…” he leaned forward and kissed Sigma's neck, “we could do something more daring.”

“We'll do it all,” Sigma laughed. "One step at a time."

“Then what do you want to do first?” Harold asked.

“Kiss me,” Sigma sighed. "Please."

Harold grinned. “My pleasure.”

He took Sigma’s face in his hands, cradling his jaw tenderly before kissing him with unspeakable passion. First with their lips, and then with their tongues, swirling and exploring, drawing out as many groans and sighs as possible. Sigma leaned forward and slid his lips to Harold's jaw, then the shell of his ear, then the soft junction between Harold's neck and shoulder. He bit lightly until the skin was tinted pink, and Harold gasped lewdly. Sigma took mental notes of the places he kissed that drew the most vocal reaction from Harold, certain in the fact that he will need to use this in the very near future. Whatever the future held, he was going to make sure this was not their last time together in bed.

Sigma moved to take the belt off Harold’s robes, pausing for a sign that this was not wanted or that he was moving too fast. But Harold sighed happily, lifting his arms up high. With Sigma’s strong hands, he delicately pulled the robes off and away, exposing Harold’s naked body.

His lips trailed Harold’s collarbone reverently, sucking on the soft flesh lightly. “You’re so handsome,” Sigma hummed.

“You can’t see me,” Harold pointed out.

“Doesn’t that make it more special? That a blind man like me knows you’re handsome?”

Harold giggled bashfully. “Perhaps.” His fingers found the edge of Sigma’s own robes and pulled them up and over his head. Sigma gasped lightly, making Harold giggle again. “But I’m not the only gorgeous one here. I’ve got you, don’t I? And I get to have you all for myself.”

Harold’s lithe fingers felt his soft pecs, his toned stomach, traveling lower at a snail pace. Heat blossomed from his touch, making Sigma’s breathing quicken. Harold leaned forward for another greedy kiss with his greedy tongue while his hand brushed over the thick bush of hair near his groin, trailing down to the base of his throbbing cock. Sigma was quick to surrender as the now-familiar wave of love and lust overwhelmed his senses, moaning to the ceiling.

Harold let his other hand hover in the air as the strings between their bodies re-emerged. He began to tug on them lightly but Sigma enclosed his hand around Harold’s wrist, dispelling the spell.

“Siebren?” He whispered.

“No magic,” he said, just as quiet. “No spirits, no magic, and no strings of fate. Just you and me.”

Harold nodded slowly, and then he leaned backward for a second to take his glasses off. When he couldn’t find a place to deposit them, he slid them into Sigma’s face, earning a quiet chuckle from his lips. The glasses, as Sigma suspected, did nothing to help his eyesight. Sigma wrinkled his nose, the glasses tilting with his movement, earning another laugh.

“You done?” Sigma smiled.

“Any more requests before I not-so-magically find the lubricant, oh great Oracle?” Harold said in an exaggerated voice.

“Actually, there is…one thing,” Sigma glanced away. It was just a thought but…no, it might not work. It’s been too long. Why ruin what might be their last comfortable night like this with such an experiment?

“Hmm?”

“I was wondering if I could, um, be on the receiving end tonight.” He cleared his throat loudly. "Only if you'd want to, that is."

“O-oh. I guess that explains why you didn’t eat much dinner.” Harold frowned microscopically. “That takes something out of the books.”

“What is it?”

Harold opened his mouth, paused, then headed out of bed to a small trunk. Within it he got what appeared to be the jar of lube and something else that Sigma couldn’t describe. It looked long and thin and pale as the snow. What it was, however, Sigma could not tell.

By the time he returned to bed, Harold’s blush seemed to have multiplied. In his hands were the jar and the mysterious object. Noticing Sigma's curious gaze, he held the object close so Sigma could see.

Sigma's cheeks crimsoned. “R-rope, Harold?”

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to get tied up. I was going to ask if you could tie me up or something, but if you want to bottom for once, I understand this might be too much. We can do it some other time."

Before Harold might say more, Sigma cupped Harold’s face, interrupting him. “Harold, whatever you want to do, I’ll do it. I love you.” Softer, he added, “I trust you.”

“G-good,” Harold breathed. Despite his nervousness, there was no denying the excitement in his voice. He took his glasses off Sigma's face and slid them to the edge of the bed. “R-right. Well. I best get you prepared, shouldn't I? Sit up and turn around.”

Sigma did as Harold instructed. His wrists were pulled behind his back, the rope gliding over his skin. A well of fear and anticipation filled his chest. He’d never done this. Not the rope, not the bottoming, not running away to start a new life, not immortality. They were scary but they were also new, and they were luxuries he couldn’t afford to waste. If he shied away from scary, new things, he'd never be here in Harold's arms, with infinite power and life in his bloodstream. And after all, wasn't that the purpose of experimentation, to learn from these scary, new things? He could accept it easily enough if he just thought about it as an experiment.

Harold’s deft touch assuaged some of his fears, working steadily as he guided the rope over his arms and wrist. His fingers would often pause to rake down Sigma’s backside or reach lower to squeeze his ass, making Sigma shiver in delight. When Harold was done, he gently guided Sigma down onto the bed, his chest flat on the mattress and his ass held high. Sigma glanced over his shoulder to find Harold staring at the body, seemingly in a trance.

Sigma smiled shyly. "Earth to Harold."

"S-sorry, it's just...wow." Harold chuckled nervously. "I can't believe my luck that I have you like this. Can't believe I have you for all eternity."

"I'm not going to wait all eternity," Sigma said. "Could you please get on with it?"

"You're so impatient," Harold teased as he opened the jar and spread the glistening lube over his fingers. He leaned forward and pressed the tip of a finger into Sigma slowly. In an instant a cold shock zapped both Sigma's mind and body, making him shiver again. When Sigma recovered slightly, Harold began to slide his finger in and out, coating Sigma's ass with the slippery, wet lube.

"Harold…" Sigma gasped.

"I'll be slow," Harold said, voice laced with lust. "I want you to feel good."

"D-don't just say things like that," Sigma blushed. "You don't need to be slow for me. I can handle it." Maybe, he added but didn't say.

Harold chuckled lightly as he pressed a second finger in, pumping at a slightly faster pace. Sigma tugged at his restraints, his eyelids fluttering. This tight wetness was such a new but wonderful sensation and it was making him dizzy in ecstasy. Harold's magic was coursing through his touch, shooting up into Sigma's brain. Sigma was sure this magical bond between him was making him far more sensitive than he should be, and yet he didn't want to stop. He wanted more, more. As long as it was Harold he'd always want more.

A third finger went in, pumping a little bit faster. Harold's fingers curled up inside Sigma, and he swore he could see the stars as those fingers brushed against his prostate. Harold's other hand trailed down his back, round his hips to enclose around Sigma's leaking cock. A shameful moan dripped from his lips as Sigma rolled his hips against the palm of Harold's hand, his desperation growing. It felt like he would tear apart if he wasn't given what he craved, if he wasn't filled, if he wasn't stroked. He knew Harold felt this desperation, but he never imagined it would be this intense. Now, right now, he needed to be defiled now.

Sigma glanced over his shoulder, his entire body tinted rouge. "Harold, please."

"Already? But I haven't even got the fourth finger in." Harold said in an amused tone.

"Harold," Sigma said in a more commanding voice.

"Alright, alright," Harold giggled lightly as he took another coating of lube and slowly stroked his cock, slicking it. Sigma could feel Harold shift forward, his wet cock rocking against the cleft of his ass. He inhaled deeply as Harold's love flooded his mind, spiking in waves with every roll of his tantalising hips. He rolled his hips back to the same rhythm as Harold's hips, hoping to coax Harold to hurry up, to give him what he craved.

Harold's hands gripped onto his hips tightly, steadying him. Sigma's balled fists shook against his restraints in anticipation. Harold drew his cock back, letting the tip kiss against Sigma’s entrance.

"Ready?" Harold asked softly.

"Yes, please," Sigma whimpered. "Please. I want you now. I need you."

Harold sharply inhaled, dug his fingers into the soft flesh of Sigma’s ass, and then slowly pushed his cock in.

Sigma bit on his lip to stifle his moan, but it didn't work, a soft "ah!" escaping his lips. It felt so glorious and wet and warm. Harold filled him up so perfectly, sliding in and out of him languidly but fluidly, slow but powerful, as if Harold already knew exactly how he wanted to be fucked. Harold was moaning too, whispering soft little things that made Sigma’s skin prickle with need and desire. From their shared minds, Sigma could feel Harold’s magic stroke the corners with the same speed and rhythm as his hips, as if Sigma was being pleasured both physically and mentally.

Sigma could barely handle it. Being pleasured in two different ways simultaneously, everything felt much more intense. Everything felt so much better. “Mmm, Harold…”

"You're handling it so good. And it's your first time too." His hot breath tickled Sigma's ear. "Maybe you can handle a little bit more." Harold snapped his hips, driving his cock harder into Sigma. He groaned lewdly, knowing all too well he was completely and utterly at Harold's mercy.

He wanted to ask how Harold knew this was his first time when suddenly Harold shifted the angle of his cock, making him moan deeply. Harold's magic had seeped into his mind, making his brain spark and flicker with the light of a thousand fireworks. Sigma's fists shook, trying and failing to break free from the restraints.

"Ah ah ah," Harold teased, not slowing his brutal pace down a single bit. "Not yet, Siebren. Not yet."

"Harold, please, ahhh." Without his sense of sight, his other senses were already heightened, but with the additional loss of his sense of touch, it felt like his remaining senses were working on overdrive. The scent of Harold's sweat was driving him wild. The sight of his cock gushing down onto the bed was undeniably arousing. The sound of Harold's strangled moans of pleasure as his hips crashed into Sigma's ass was the most beautiful chorus. His body was so sensitive to every little touch. If Harold just hit his prostate a bit more, if he just angled his cock at the perfect spot, Sigma might unravel completely.

"You're doing so well. You can take it so well," Harold whispered. "You let me know if it's too much."

"It's not enough, I need more. I want more. Please."

Sigma heard Harold chuckle lightly as he slid his cock out. Before Sigma could react, Harold's hands gripped tightly onto his waist, turning him around and sitting him on his lap. It took a second for Sigma to figure out what had happened. He rocked his hips slowly, sliding his ass against Harold's cock.

Harold placed a tender kiss to the lobe of Sigma's ear. "Is this good enough for you, Siebren?" He whispered.

Sigma leaned forward and kissed Harold eagerly as he felt Harold line himself up. He opened his eyes for a second and stared into the dark void that was Harold's eyes, waiting for the light, the signal, the go ahead. Harold's eyes shimmered for a second as he let out a quiet, pleading sigh. Sigma smiled softly as he descended, filling himself with Harold's cock once more. Harold wrapped his arms around Sigma's chest, moaning.

"Gosh, Siebren, yes. Yes, yes."

Sigma slid up and down at a brutal pace, giving the both of them little to no build-up. Not that either of them wanted or needed it. Harold's mind was screaming for more, and Sigma was sure his mind was screaming the same thing. He adjusted himself, angling his body until he felt the head of Harold's cock hit his prostate. It felt incredible, addictive, amazing. He had to hit it again and again and again, milking that indescribable pleasure for all it was worth. Just a bit more. He was so close, so madly close.

He angled his descent badly and Harold's cock slipped out of his ass. They groaned loudly.

"Siebren," Harold warned.

"S-sorry. I've never done this before," Sigma blushed.

"I know, but you don't need to rush it," Harold smiled softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sigma let out a quiet chuckle as he descended slowly until his ass was touching Harold's thighs. He bit down lightly on his lip, suppressing a moan. "We are not going anywhere."

Harold grinned brightly as his fingers traced the rope bindings. With a sharp tug, the rope came loose and Sigma's hands came free.

“H-Harold?”

“Bondage doesn’t suit you. I know you want to touch me.” Harold pressed a chaste kiss to Sigma’s cheek. “Let me be at your mercy this time.”

With his arms free he could do whatever he liked. Push Harold down and take him from the top, touch him in all his sensitive places until he came, torture him with his caresses. He could do almost anything and Harold would eagerly go along with Sigma's whims, but Sigma had a different plan in mind. He let his hands settle on either side of Harold's jaw, cupping it as though he was holding the world in his hands. In a sense, he was. Harold was his world, and he would always find his way to him. He closed his eyes, imagining Harold and all the things he had done for Sigma. There were almost too many to count. Harold had been so good to him since the very beginning.

Tears began to bead at Harold's eyes, which he hastily wiped away. "Y-you know I can read your thoughts, right?"

"I know," Sigma hummed. He kissed Harold on the lips, on the cheek. His hips slowly began to move again, almost lethargically, sensually, just enough to keep them on the edge.

Harold huffed. "You really are a jerk." But he was smiling while he said it, gripping Sigma's shoulders tightly when their hips pressed together. His thoughts were all focused on Sigma, and his love and adoration for him. From his intellect to his wisdom to his weird little jokes, Harold transmitted it all back to Sigma.

Sigma chuckled bashfully as he pressed another long kiss to Harold's open mouth. He imagined all the wonderful things about Harold—his beautiful voice, his constant optimism, and open mind— and watched as Harold’s face broke out into a breathtaking smile.

"I love you, Siebren," Harold said quietly.

"I love you too, Harold. Till the end of time,” Sigma whispered.

Harold kissed Sigma's lips softly. "Till the end of time."

The heat of their orgasm ebbed and flowed as Sigma slowly rode Harold. When it did came, it trickled up their bodies, less an explosion and more of a wave flooding over them. They kissed through this indescribable bliss, and when they were spent, they kissed some more, collapsing back into the bed in each other's arms. They did not speak, just let their slowing thoughts do the speaking for them, telling their life stories and their greatest triumphs and greatest fears for them. What their thoughts couldn't speak, their wandering fingers did, breathing new life into their every touch, expressing countless untold stories.

With a wave of his hands, Sigma summoned two cloths to wipe them both clean. Harold initially relaxed into it, until Sigma plucked the invisible strings between their obdies. Harold let out a surprised gasp as he felt something warm and wet and invisible enter his hole.

He looked down at Sigma, his expression quickly turning lustful. “I thought you said no magic tonight.”

“That was when I thought I only had the energy for one time.” Sigma tugged at the strings, making the invisible lubed-up finger press deeper into Harold. “I might have the energy reserve for at least one more go.”

Harold grinned mischievously. “At least?”

“I paid good money for this room, and I plan to maximize my usage of it.” He reversed their positions, pressing Harold back into the covers. He smiled indulgently. “I hypothesise that I can get you hard again without even touching you.”

“That’s some hypothesis,” Harold breathed. “Do you have the evidence to back up that theory?”

Sigma smirked. "I've got just the experiment in mind."

That night, Sigma fucked Harold himself, becoming one in both mind and body. By the end of it they were sweaty, sticky, and very much dehydrated, and absolutely and hopelessly in love with each other. When they both finally fell asleep in their arms, there was nothing they didn't know about the other. They slept peacefully that night, the marks on their palms glowing, perfectly content just to have each other, for now until eternity. They will find each other. That, they promised one another.

—

In the morning, they ate the breakfast the inn provided. They were downstairs, dressed in more unassuming clothes. Despite Sigma's best efforts, he couldn't stop grinning. It was a honeymoon phase of sorts, because they had already pledged to stay with each other for as long as time would let them, but that was all they had figured out in terms of their plans. Where they go from here, what they do, it was all up in the air. Anything and everything was possible. They had almost nothing to hold them back.

"We could head to the Safavid Empire in the West," Sigma suggested. "Ardabil is not unlike Oasis. Considering all the different dignitaries that visit there, we would not look out of place."

But Harold shook his head. "What business would we have in Ardabil? The Dutch East India Company own all the major trade routes so there's not too much business there. They're also not too keen on foreigners at the moment, especially English speaking foreigners."

"I know languages other than English and Dutch."

"So do I, but English seems to be the one we're best able to communicate in. I wouldn't take my chances," Harold said. "Why not Georgia instead?"

"Not Georgia. I'm not wanted in those lands."

"Why would they not want you there?" Harold asked.

"The Tobelsteins wielded far more power than I expected," Sigma frowned. "They messed with the fabric between reality and the spirit world far too much and I objected. I wouldn't be surprised if they end up floating into the heavens for their hubris like I did when I was a young, stupid fool."

"Don't put yourself down, Siebren. You shouldn't be ashamed of your powers.” Harold sighed. “So not Georgia then. Somewhere else. But where?"

As they began to rack their heads for ideas, two men stumbled through the entrance and plopped themselves down near the bar. One was tall and thin, with odd machinery on their right arm and leg. The other was fat and menacing, a mask hiding away their features. Their skin was pale as snow. They were definitely not from this land. The thin man ordered a beer, while the fat man ordered water.

If their appearance was hard to ignore, the thin man's outbursts were impossible.

"Can't believe th' Overwatch Guild is a thing. Always thought it was some legend going round those parts. Here, Roadie. You hear about it?" The man said in accented, but fluent English. It was definitely his first language.

"I was there with you," the man known as Roadie huffed.

"I mean, I know I'm supposed to be the comic relief, but how is a bloke to believe that an enchanted gorilla's its new leader? And don't get me started with the automaton, mate. In our lovely lil' collisseum we had a glorious champion, and then it just buggers off to the middle of nowhere, Gibraltar?"

"The queen wants us to get 'em back," Roadie gruffly replied.

"Assuming some mage's piloting it, and not like…I dunno, a hamster. That'd be a real kick , wouldn't it? A hamster rolling a ball automaton? But what kinda hamster would have that much smarts and magic? Not any that I know."

The man known as Roadie turned his head toward Harold and Sigma. Even behind his mask, they could feel his deathly glare. "Junkrat, shut up."

"Hey, don't interrupt me, I—oh." Roadie forced Junkrat to turn his head.

The two strangers stared at Sigma and Harold for several seconds, as if gauging them. Then, after a minute of uncomfortable silence, Junkrat rolled his eyes and nursed his beer.

"Don't bother, Roadie. They're just wizards." The man known as Junkrat spat out the word like it was poison.

"Least they don't have golems."

Sigma could've picked a fight, or perhaps even correct the two men on their technically incorrect use of the word 'wizard', but he didn't. Instead, he stared at Harold. They shared the same knowing look in their eyes, their faces lighting up. A path had been unveiled to them, glorious and brilliant and full of potential. It was almost as if it was fate guiding them along.

"Winston?" Sigma asked, and Harold nodded eagerly.

“And Hammond.” The descriptions matched. There were no other super-intelligent gorillas and hamsters that they knew of. It had to be them. Winston and Hammond had to be alive, and members of this Overwatch guild.

“You’re aware of what the Overwatch guild is?” Sigma asked, even though he knew Harold would know by now. They shared all their memories, their feelings, and their knowledge. They had nothing left to hide anymore.

“A ragtag bunch of adventurers bent on saving the world, one magical disaster at a time.” Harold stuck out his hand. “What do you say, Siebren? Ever wanted to join a guild?"

"I've joined enough guilds in my day, thank you very much." Sigma's lips curled up into a grin as he took Harold's hand. "Although I must say, I'm awfully curious as to how you've enchanted a gorilla and a hamster with the gift of intelligence. You know I’m up for another experiment.”

Harold grinned. "An adventure, you and me.”

"Oi, I heard that. You two!" The man known as Junkrat suddenly stood up, his expression becoming dangerous very quickly. He muttered something to Roadie, who took out an enchanted hook.

"But first, maybe we should get out of here?" Harold smiled nervously.

"We should probably do that," Sigma said.

With the wave of his hand, Sigma summoned the barrier as they raced out of the inn and ran toward the sunrise together, a world of untold possibility and struggle and wonder all ahead of them, just beyond their fingertips.