#*sephiroth voice* such a puppy

[emblazons]

"Fine. Fetch."

Cloud Strife in Final Fantasy VII (Rebirth)

[luneandbarbecue]

i am currently making an oc who is sephiroth's child, the idea being that in some universe, he ends up living past a very long time and ends up having a kid (a good ending where he somehow goes through a redemption arc and by then, the main cast grows old or has already passed away).

this is her.

Stumbling through adolescence like a colt, somehow Wendy Crescent manages to get through life with decent grades, school band, sketching, and plants.

She is a girl with a mellow and quirky disposition, paired with the awkwardness which comes with neurodivergence. Sephiroth sometimes worries about her and wonders if she would survive the world. But knowing that her being herself would have Hojo roll in his grave, he wouldn't have her any other way.

(I would love to be prompted to talk about my fluffy au lol, I hope to doodle more of her)

[ariseur]

Hi!for your event can i ask messy half asleep kisses with sephiroth pls:)) thank you so much

“alright my love, i must take my leave for now,” sephiroth’s voice barely echoes past the barrier of your sleep, velvet tone seeping into your mind as it only delves further into the corners of your brain.

“hmmph—?” you hum sleepily, lifting your head up ever so slightly from the silky pillows only to peek a bleary eye at your beloved, seeing his face gaze down at you with only adoration. his slender eyes track yours as your lashes flutter with the leftover residue of sleep still remaining in your eyes. the vision of him comes out blurry yet you can still clearly make out the bulky uniform of his armor.

“i must leave now — but i promise to you that i shall return tomorrow, alright?” he asks, and although it’s posed as a question you know he needs to go anyways. to attend to his duties as a SOLDIER, a role you had always resented only due to the minimal time you had together.

he basks in the glow of the room, how the dawn had barely shed its light and it had already blessed your figure. gloved hands go to bring the covers a bit over your shoulder once he hears your breath shudder at the sudden cool temperature of awareness.

“nooo..” you keen, dragging out the vowel for as long as your raspy voice could. he chuckles, shaking his head before he takes a small seat on the mattress. you sigh comfortably at the familiar dip in the bed before your hands reach out to him out of instinct, knowing that he’ll always interlock your fingers together ( leather clad or not ).

“i know, i know — but you’ll see me again soon, will you not?” you huff at his rationality. little did you know that it was getting harder and harder to get out of bed with you around; feelings of guilt swelling his heart when he sees you cling onto him as he tries to get out of bed or seeing the note you prepare on the nightstand beforehand knowing he wakes up before you do, so he’ll read it and at least know that you love him.

he hears you sigh and he lets out another soft laugh at the sound. “always so theatrical,” he mutters.

“one last kiss?” your head tips up to look at him, and he doesn’t think he’s seen anything more gorgeous. your bed head splayed out in every which way with indents on your face from the markings of the pillow was a sign of heaven for sephiroth, and if he didn’t listen to this by far religious call then he knew there must be something wrong with him.

you display your best puppy dog eyes with a pout, pointing at your lips as he takes in the pink color of them — natural and swollen with perhaps just a little bit of drool at the corner, but he has never minded any bad habits of yours. he loved you too much for that.

he scoffs in amusement, clearly entertained by the sight, before he leans down to press a light kiss to your lips. you barely lean upwards to meet him halfway, allowing for more messier kisses afterward. you hum, seeing as he lets you kiss him more. he tastes like mint and bergamot, something so familiar, oftentimes you forget it’s not your default palette.

“i really must go,” he mutters before your eyes flutter closed and you kiss the bottom corner of his lip, making sephiroth quirk a brow as if it was intentional or if you’re just too sleepy to care.

you exhale through your nose. you don’t bother to open your eyes because you know he’ll be there, and you know that you’ll try to keep him longer and longer once you see those eyes, filled to the brim with mako and crystallines so gorgeous you could lose time.

you place a hand against his chest before gracefully falling back down against the pillows. sephiroth scoffs. you’ve definitely been hanging around genesis too much lately, he thinks.

“you’ll come back to me, right?”

“always,” he says before grabbing your hand off of his chest and grasping it within his own, pressing chaste kisses along the prominent vein on the back of your hand.

your eyes peel open as your lips purse, mocking consideration with letting him go — even though you know he has to anyway. so you huff and tilt your head to the side, trying to fall back asleep. “okay,” you mumble.

sephiroth softly smiles, before pressing a small kiss to your forehead. he got up from the bed, hoping the slight creak in the frame doesn’t disturb you too much. all you see is silver hair flowing behind him as he takes a swift exit.

he was a carcass with the walls of a weapon, only made to serve and protect — walls only you were made to melt as you wriggled your way into the soft interior that littered this man. something so delicate, you’d felt the need to cherish it forever.

you smiled, your lashes already flitting closed as you felt the gentle thump of your heartbeat against your ribs; and you thought of sephiroth.

𐙚 dottie’s 500 event - 🍡 ( action ) prompts !!

𐙚 taglist ; @xiansiii @ch3rryfiles @snoopicle

𐙚 non-500 requests are closed — august twenty-fifth, 2024

[rottenpumpkin13]

The idea of Sephiroth accidentally harassing Rufus at the wrong time is hilarious to me. Imagine Rufus is in the middle of showering and Sephiroth shows up in his Glenn get up, or Rufus is in the midst of babbling to Darkstar in that annoying baby voice all dog owners use and Sephiroth just completely blanks. Or he teleports in while Rufus is aggressively shooting a dummy that has a full body, life size picture of Sephiroth taped to it.

*Rufus is in the shower*

*Sephiroth materializes in front of him puppeteering Glenn's dead body*

Sephiroth: Glenn will never never be clean again.

Rufus: WHAT THE HELL

-

*Sephiroth materializes behind Rufus when he's tending to Darkstar*

Rufus: Who's a good dog? Yes, you are! Such a strong, brave Darkstar!

Sephiroth: ......

Rufus: Look at those sharp teeth! And your paws! You're the cutest Darkstar ever, aren't you? Yes you are!

Sephiroth, losing touch with reality: ......

Rufus: You're the most loyal puppy ever! I'm going to buy you a diamond collar!

Sephiroth, glitching: ......

Rufus: Bark if you're precious!

Darkstar: Bark!

Rufus: Ahh, how cute!

Sephiroth, wishing he had gone and terrorized Cloud instead: ......

[c0smoshit]

Cuddling with ffvii boys!!

⋆ ࣪. ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 ≫ Cloud Strife, Zack Fair, Sephiroth and Angeal Hewley

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ fluff, fluff and more fluff, not proofread!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ enjoy!! :))

Cloud

★ Obviously he had to be the first one I'll be talking about

★ Yeahh... If you want to actually touch this guy without him freaking out, you'll have to wait for him to finally give in to his desires

★ Once he's warmed up, may god save you from his wreckingly long cuddling sessions ( poor baby he's so so so touch starved )

★ He doesn't care about the position, he just wants you close, really close to him ( paying off for all the times he has dreamt about you in his arms )

★ Will probably fall asleep very soon once he's got you trapped

"Feeling better?"

A low grumble of approval made your belly vibrate. His head was laying down on your stomach as you were sat on the headboard of the bed, your legs placed by his sides as he had his arms hugging your middle part.

He hugged you as if you were about to leave the room ( which was indeed, not happening ). His eyes were closed and his breathing was serene too, taking the chance to play with his hair meanwhile.

You were both winding down from the day, his hair still a bit damp from the shower he had just taken. And god did he look cute all sleepy on your belly.

You smiled, enjoying one of the very few moments Cloud would let you see his soft side.

Zack

★ My baby 🤧

★ Where do I even start, well, should we be asking him?

★ Because the moment your arms would welcome him in a maze of softness and care, this boy would be down bad

★ Automatically would have you trapped bellow him or viceversa, he likes physical touch maybe a bit too much

★ Is also one of the very few moments where you can actually hear silence again besides him, just the sound of his breathing mixed with yours

"Zack! I'm hom-"

Not even 5 seconds after you had shouted that into what you thought was your empty living room, he was already hoisting you up in the air by your waist like the puppy that was waiting for his owner he was.

. . .

"I missed you"

"I know, I know"

You tried to shush him, but it was quite a dificult task since he had his whole body on top of you on the sofa. His arms embracing your back, almost as if he didn't care about the cramps he knew he would get, he just cared about you.

He looked at you over where his head was laying on your chest, pointing out how pretty you looked when you smiled. God he is such a dork.

Sephiroth

★ Okay so this guy is... big

★ Not a fan of hugs but god, he lives off your arms wrapped around him

★ He would carry you bride style even when you both are cuddling on the bed. Keeping you close to him by your back and knees

★ You should be proud because this guy... this guy isn't really a big fan of having company nor physical touch with them

★ Once he is alone with you, he is a whole different man

Silence fell over your cute and tidied up room, Sephiroth's best music to listen to.

Your cheek met his collarbone, he was sat on your headboard as he kept you close to him with both of his arms. One by the back of your knees and the other on your back.

His heartbeat made you almost fall asleep by it's lulling trap, and you were sure you wouldn't last any longer either way.

Quiet nights like this before sleep were your absolute favourite and you could tell by the way he spoke to you with such honey bathed words that he enjoyed quite as good as you.

Angeal

★ GOD

★ He loves, loves, loves holding you

★ Anywhere and whenever, his arms would be around you. You're just too sweet not to be held, he thinks

★ But he also loves having your soft hands caressing his skin too, whenever you would let him lay his head down on your thighs as you caressed his forehead and hair.

★ He just loves keeping u close ;)

"G'mornin love"

Your mumbled out response was enough for his heart to melt over your weary eyes and softened voice.

Your arms were curled up in his chest, his strenght not failing him as he kept you close even when he was asleep. He wishes he could stay like this with you forever.

Curled up in his arms as the sun bathed your pretty face, the soft whines you would let as he tried to get you off the bed.

Bonus!!

His hands felt cold at first against your belly, but soon a scorching warmth would start to envelop your guts.

His breathing was serene against your nape, your back against his front. Almost poetically implying that you trusted him, that you cared about him.

No matter how deeply he would have fallen asleep, he still would and will keep you as secure and close to his body. Under the warm covers of your bed, everything felt nicer anyways.

So when you felt his characteristic blonde locks trickling your neck, you felt at home.

[prismaticpichu]

One day, deciding that ShinRa’s finest SOLDIERs are far too distracted during work hours, Lazard decides to implement a security browser that allows him to see what the Firsts are searching for online. Just to make sure they’re staying on track. Just to make sure they know their own intelligence and don’t need to rely on the World Wide Web.

Morbidly curious, he decides to take a look at the results after the first day.

~~~

Genesis’s Search History:

• Is Mona Lisa dead?

• Is the color red better than silver?

• Is WWE real?

• is the color brown better than silver

• what’s the adjective for one without love?

• How to be emo

• What’s the first book in the Bible

• Are rapiers better than katanas

• Does ice expire

• why do people tell me to shut up

• Are phoenixes better than cats

• is it illegal to steal a street sign

• How to put out a microwave fire

• can metal go in the microwave

• why the hell does my friend have slitted pupils

• how can I get slitted pupils?

• contacts with slitted pupils low price

• silver elite homepage

Angeal’s Search History:

• my kids are fighting what do I do

• my adult kids are fighting what do I do

• seafood pasta recipes

• my teenager won’t stop eating cinnamon dog biscuits what do I do

• is it practical to carry a sword you never use

• what temperature should cacti be kept at

• where is the internet

• do sunglasses make you cool

• honor synonyms

• what is lucid dreaming

• Kraft mac and cheese

• is ShinRa ethical

• is “puppy” considered derogatory

• is it normal for your friend to growl

• are plants good listeners

• what are phoenixes

• why does my teenager never listen

• local diners help wanted

• is it possible to send two adults to military school

• how do I delete my last search

Sephiroth’s Search History:

• is it normal to growl

• Why are my pupils slitted

• is silver hair natural

• chemical composition of a single strand of spaghetti

• cute panda videos

• are sprinkles edible

• is it normal to hear voices in my sleep

• is silver a better color than red

• how to tell someone to shut up in a language they do not speak

• are trees sentient

• cute seal videos

• is my father my father

• is it incorrect to be shirtless

• why is it incorrect to be shirtless

• is it normal to be able to lift a jeep

• can the human body handle the consumption of a mole of spaghetti noodles

• current day slang

• loveless SparkNotes

• how to tell my friends that I love them

Zack’s Search History:

• What do anteaters eat

• What is a city people live in called

• Sodium chloride

• What is the square root of one

• who invented walking

• Loveless SparkNotes

• Does General Sephiroth like hugs?

• world squat record

• Are sombreros allowed in the military

• How many marshmallows can fit inside of a whale

• I GOT MY FRIEND’S SWORD DIRTY DO I TAKE IT TO THE DRY CLEANERS

• where does the word laptop come from

• how much water is too much

• how to make my mentor proud

• Do rattlesnakes actually have beans in their tails

• how many pounds of pepperoni is unhealthy

• How much of Dr Dolittle is true

• How to tell someone they are loved and wanted

• sophisticated words of today

• why are they called graham crackers

• toaster alarm clocks

~~~

Lazard closes the computer, letting his head fall into his hands.

[salternateunreality2]

AGSZC Adopt an Emotional Support Cat for Sephiroth

From the @strayheartless archives <3

Thanks @heraldofcrow and @altocat for the grammar help!

---------------------------------

It doesn’t go as planned.

They go to the shelter to try to find a kitten, but Sephiroth finds something even better: a feral momma cat with a single living kitten because all her other babies died. He and she stare at each other for a solid 15 minutes through the bars, until AGZC find them.

Genesis: THERE you are. Sephiroth, the adoptable kittens are this way.

Sephiroth: This one.

Zack: Oh, sorry bud, this one says the kitten is too young to leave his mother.

Sephiroth: No, this cat. The kitten can come too. *has not broken eye contact yet*

Angeal: Sweetheart, this says she’s feral and not up for adoption, and neither is her kitten. Come on, let’s go look at the ones that are available, ok?

Sephiroth: This one.

Cloud: *Looks at Seph. Looks at the cat. Looks at the kitten. Looks at Seph.* This one.

Angeal, Genesis, and Zack can all be stubborn, but they are faced with the immovable object that is Sephiroth with a fixation and the unstoppable force that is Cloud protecting someone. They convince the shelter staff they can take care of both the mother and the baby. Yes, even though she’s feral. Yes, they know they can’t be separated. Yes, they will handle medicating the feral cat.

—

Momma cat immediately adopts Sephiroth as a second kitten. Then Cloud as her third. The first kitten grows up and is weaned and becomes Zack’s dog-cat. He’s friendly and cuddly and likes to play fetch, and his momma likes him, but knows he’s going to be ok on his own. Not her other kittens though. They clearly still need her.

She comes and yowls at Genesis and Angeal when Seph and Cloud need something she can't get them. She yowls at Genesis to go hunting with her to provide for the babies, and at Angeal to figure out what's wrong when they won't eat the nice mice she brings them.

She accepts Zack as a puppy, disciplines him, and comforts him when needed, but her attention belongs to her tall baby and her baby birb first.

Her new sons are idiots, but they’re HER idiots.

Sephiroth calls her “Mother Cat”. Cloud calls her “Cat”. Genesis insists she needs a REAL name (it’s only decent), and writes down "Serafina" on the vet papers. Sephiroth falls in love with him all over again.

If either Sephiroth or Cloud starts hyperventilating, she comes and sits on her boy and purrs until he calms down. If they ignore important things like feeding time or petting-the-cat time, she starts kneading her paws. If they still ignore her, she brings out the claws. She’s not shy about making sure they take care of her and then themselves.

She nips Zack when one of her boys is overstimulated and he's too loud.

She hisses nonstop at the vacuum and stands between it and her babies until they take her to another apartment, at which point she bathes them until they (and she) calm down.

Serafina: YOWL.

Angeal: Hi Serafina. Is one of them being an idiot?

Serafina: YOWL. *walks to the dining table*

Sephiroth: *hunched over a pile of manuscripts, hair a mess, muttering*

Serafina: YOWL.

Angeal: Seph, honey, have you been up all night again?

Sephiroth: …it’s…morning? Wh- *voice cracks* -at day?

Angeal: Wednesday.

Sephiroth: Oh *cough* just one night then.

Angeal: And you haven’t had water since…? Actually, don’t answer that. Clean up your papers, you need to eat, hydrate, and sleep. No, no arguing. Serafina is worried, you need to reassure her.

Sephiroth: Oh! Of course.

—--

Serafina: YOWL.

Genesis: Yes, my Lady Serafina?

Serafina: YOWL. *leads him to the front door, where Cloud is swaying and trying to put on his boots*

Genesis: Cloud Strife, when was the last time you ate?

Cloud: h-Huh? Gen? When did you get here? 

Genesis: Eat. When.

Cloud: ummmmm…breakfast?

Genesis: Yesterday?

Cloud: ……maybe?

Genesis: Sit down before you fall down. You know mako enhancements require more calories. No, stay there and I’ll get you a shake and a bar. Yes, I know you have work. You won’t be any use passed out or dead. Now thank your second mother for saving your life. *stomps off huffily*

[vampirecatprince]

I know it's more of a Zack thing, but hearing Sephiroth call Cloud "Puppy" as a nickname with voice acting in the flashback did cause my brain to short circuit

Especially with just how much more fucked up and unstable Remake Cloud is

[certifiedsungod]

Using a doodle as an excuse to drop totally just bits and pieces about the Rosen death denial au thing I made for me myself and I (might be heavily Rosen & Sephiroth centered and my explaining abilities aren't really good might be long still)

THEY'RE FARM BOYS!!!! First of all that because I like it

Sephiroth has a dog which he adopted on impulse after taking the sentence 'spend all your money' (indirect Glenn reference!!!!!!!) too literally I just thought that was funny personally (the dog is just called puppy or dog (affectionately))

Both Rosen and Sephiroth had a hard time adjusting to a 'normal life' and still struggle with certain things outside of their routines which is why they stick a lot to those

Sephiroth really doesn't like the feel of water while Rosen has to constantly be fished out of the creek near their house

The only reason why Sephiroth is letting his hair grow is because he doesn't have to fight often anymore and it doesn't bother him anymore

Matt has unknowingly, unofficially and without legal procedures adopted Rosen and is teaching him how to fight with a sword

Qpr representation for the 40 people who want it one of them being me 🎉 They're close but romance is overrated and I'm projecting

They both enjoy lying around somewhere in each other's rooms and doing nothing,, overall they just like existing around each other

Rosen really likes that they have a truck because he likes getting to sit in the back during car rides

It doesn't happen too often but sometimes if either of them are doing real bad because they're both not too good at voicing feelings they'll resort to just hugging (realistically more clinging to each other but simplified it's hugging),,,,,,,,,

Rosen is good at cooking 🔥

mb for making this long I just like rambling

[gaybitchfx]

-❄️ character(s): sephiroth

-❄️ type of reader: m!reader

-❄️ category: sfw

-❄️ warning(s): intentional lowercase

-❄️ idea from: @reallyromealone

-❄️ edited: ❌

“mr. y/n is very nice! he reads us stories for nap time!” one of sephiroth’s sons said as the single father drove them around in their stroller.

“really? that sounds nice.” sephiroth softly said to his four-year-old. “and, and! he’s so pretty!” another child of sephiroth said as he lightly bit on his lollipop. the third son nodded his head agreeing with his brother.

“papa you should come with us!” the third one recommended making sephiroth light-heartedly smile. “i don’t know..” he said but his sons continued to give him puppy dog eyes which he so effortlessly succumbed to.

and so here he was accompanying his four-year-old sons to see their teacher they talked so much about yesterday.

“good morning everyone.” you said softly as you walked into the room but surprised to see sephiroth here. “and you are?” “he’s our papa!” one of his sons said as he held onto his father's pants leg. “oh well, it’s nice to meet you.” you would say with a smile and hold out your hand for him to shake.

he only stared at you, jaw slightly slacked open and barely blinking. “is something wrong?” you hummed tilting your head a little snapping out of whatever trance he was in. “o..oh i’m sorry. i’m sephiroth.” he said and shook your hand ever so gently. you smiled at him softly.

“it’s alright. now everyone! we have a guest today so be on your best behavior understood?” you said and began walking to the little carpet where most of the children were. “yes mr. y/n!” they all said. when sephiroth’s sons said you were pretty they were not lying. you were gorgeous and just breathtaking all together.

“now how about we learn about the different kinds of animals today.” you said to the children softly and opened a picture book of different animals before you began to read them out loud to the children who repeated the words you told them to say. sephiroth would only stare at you, his body relaxed and his eyes containing a soft gaze towards you. seeing your smile was the best part.

before he realized it, it was already time for everyone to leave because the school day had ended. “excuse me?” sephiroth said, grabbing your attention as you cleaned up the fallen papers and crayons from the tables and floors. “is it alright if we meet again? i mean out of your job if that’s alright.” sephiroth asked, his voice was much softer than it usually was surprisingly.

“of course. i’d love the get to know my three favorite students’ father.” you said with a soft smile that made his heart feel like it was being strangled. he gave you his number before quickly leaving due to his sons telling him to hurry up.

“papa is smiling..” one of his sons whispered to the other two who nodded. this was the happiest sephiroth had been since the day his kids were born.

-❄️ tags: @jkloserdazai @secretivemessenger @lostsomewhereinthegarden

[altocat]

How would the firsts react to being sick and losing their voice?

For Sephiroth, this is nothing. Sephiroth often has periods of going full nonverbal anyway--either because he's too deep into work/stress or if he's just having a particularly bad day and/or dealing with personal issues. So he's perfectly content to just avoid everyone and avoid speaking altogether.

Genesis HATES this. He can't recite Loveless. He can't brag to the cadets. He can't be his typical loudmouth self soaking up all the attention. He's completely MISERABLE. So he takes to bringing around a white board and writing AGGRESSIVE demands/opinions in bold red ink in the most annoying way possible. He will FORCE your attention without a voice. At all costs.

Angeal actually is very well-versed in sign. So while he's frustrated at not being able to lecture his friends or give commands, he's able to sort of direct them via his hands. Sephiroth is equally fluent in sign and Genesis understands a few gestures. So they can't escape Angeal's ability to play group-dad. Even if he's sick.

Zack doesn't care if his voice is shot, or if he sounds like a dying frog. He will FORCE it until Angeal shoves him in bed and tells him to knock it off. This includes attempting to yell at the top of his lungs until his voice is completely mangled and he's this close to actually dying. Energetic puppy. Without his voice, all that energy just gets pent up!

[strayheartless]

The edge of no return: a Sephgen ficlet

Inspired by this piece of art by @00000133330311

⚠️ warning for: slight blood; canon typical descriptions of war, nothing graphic but you have been warned; illusions to human experimentation but now explored; mentions of a panic attack; hyperventilation.

I think that’s it but let me know if I’ve missed something.

***

Genesis doesn’t admit to being afraid of Sephiroth very often. The knowledge that he almost always is is sickening at the best of times. It feels weak, pathetic. He is Genesis fucking Rhapsodos he is not weak. Even still… outside of his prideful stubbornness there are times when Sephiroth truly does frighten him.

This… is one of those times.

The battlefield in-front of them is cluttered with bodies. Some dead, some alive. All covered in a thick layer of mud, blood and sweat. Soldiers both Wutai and Shinra picking through the dead to make note of the families they will have to inform of their own loss.

Genesis knows better than most that he has no right to mourn the dead. He is their commander. He, in many ways, is their executor. Yet mourn their loss he does. Even after years of distancing himself from his fellow men to ease the blow. It never gets easier.

Above the scorched field, stood on the rising mound of destroyed tanks and ATV’s Sephiroth surveyed the scene, Masimune in hand; blood splattering his face. In the heat of the battle Genesis had lost track of him. It hadn’t mattered at the time; Sephiroth was an immovable force, he would not be struck down. Now however Genesis felt that loosing sight of him had perhaps cost too many their lives.

“He’s been stood up there for at least an hour, “ said a deep voice behind him. He didn’t have to turn to know it was Angeal.

Genesis hummed, slightly too afraid to move.

“You know he won’t come down from the high unless you bring him down Gena.” Angeal moves to brush some dirt from his friends face. A reassurance that falls on deaf ears.

“You assume I wield any kind of power over him at all…” he resorts, but there’s no real bite to his words. Angeal knows as well as Genesis does that Sephiroth has only and will only come back to reality if Genesis is the one to guide him there. It had always been that way. Genesis doesn’t ever want to think about what would happen if he were to use that ability for evil. That power of his could level planets.

Years from now the irony of that thought will haunt him to his dying day. Years from now he will be slapped by the goddesses chosen for how he chose to use his power over the Demon of Wutai in the end.

Right now though, he didn’t feel powerful… he felt afraid.

“You give yourself too little credit.” Angeal places a hand on his shoulder. “He has only ever listened to you,”

“How is the puppy?” He hedges.

Angeal snorts softly. “Kind of you to care,” he’s not letting Genesis get away with it but he is indulging him for at least a second or two.

“I’ve always cared,” Genesis snaps. “I know I don’t engage! I know they all think me rude and self centred, but I care!” Angeal hushed him, placatingly.

“I know Gena, I’m sorry.” He grips the back of Genesis’ neck and some of the tension leaks out of him. “He’s a little traumatised I think. You remember how it was, the shock of capture that comes after your first battle. He’s dealing with the shattered hero illusion, but he’ll be okay,”

“Keep an eye on him,”

“I always do. Now stop stalling,” with a shove Angeal pushes Genesis in the direction of the vehicle mound. He knew he wouldn’t get away with it long.

There was nothing else to concentrate on but Sephiroth. His eerie, deadly, stillness; his piercing gaze as it presided like a hawk over the landscape, looking for a single twitch or spasm in the mound of bodies to descend upon. To snuff out.

It hadn’t always been this bad. Genesis remembered a time when they were fifteen (perhaps Sephiroth had been a shade younger,) when the deadened staring had held great grief in it. When Genesis had more so had to stop the shaking than claw him back from the murderous haze.

Something had changed around nineteen though. He and Angeal had not long made FIRST class when Sephiroth had been ordered into the lab for a week and comeback different somehow.

He still slept by Genesis’ side, still flirted in that awkwardly adorable and very Sephiroth kind of way. He was still Sephiroth, he was still the man Genesis fell in love with. But every now and then there was something, a dimming of sorts in the back of his eyes that turned into a void when he had a weapon in his hands. There had been training room incidents that had left many injured at best.

The only person he had never hurt had been Genesis himself. There was no explanation to it, and if Hojo were asked it was a defect in Sephiroth’s training, but he never got that voided look when he was focused on Genesis. One day, that wouldn’t save him from Sephiroth’s blade. But that day will be his own fault.

“My love,” Genesis called softly, picking his way up sharp blasted out metal. “My love can you look at me?”

There was no reaction from Sephiroth, not to Genesis’ words at least. A movement to the left of him made him twitch and swivel his head to the noise. In any other situation it would have amused Genesis. He could always imagine Sephiroth chittering like a cat watching the birds when he was intent on watching something. Now he looked larger more dangerous. One wrong move and he’d pin Genesis under his paw.

“Sephiroth,” he says closer now. His voice wavered and he cleared his throat. “Look at me,” Genesis took Sephiroth’s face in his hands.

“Listen to what I’m telling you. The battle is finished, you can come back.”

Nothing.

“SOLDIER first class, Sephiroth!” Sephiroth jerks. Genesis hates ding that to him, but it gets the job done. Sephiroth looked at his face but didn’t quite see it.

“The battle is over dear heart. Come back to me.” Genesis ran his thumb through the blood on his face. None of it was his own. It did not take the once over Genesis gave him anyway to know that he wasn’t hurt.

His lovely hair was drenched in red, it would stain for a day or two, but that just meant more time helping him wash it. It was something Genesis always liked doing.

“Gen?” Sephiroth murmured to him. his eyes were still clouded, but it was now with the confused depersonalised terror. “What did I do?” He asked and as he did he started shaking.

“Nothing you were not supposed to,” Genesis said evasively. It wouldn’t do to further distress Sephiroth here. Sephiroth however, was insistent as ever.

“But I did do something?!” He started to breath heavier. “Please Genesis, please, what did I do.”

Genesis moves a hand to Sephiroth’s neck and pulls him down to touch foreheads.

“Shhhh, shh my Angel,”

Sephiroth did not cry. He never did. He did not cry, or make distressed noises, he just shook. Shook and stayed silent as Genesis tried to guide him back to himself.

***

From the ground, Angeal looked up at them, Zack under his arm as the boy came down from his second panic attack since the battle ended.

“They look like Angels of death,” he whispered to Angeal solemnly.

The man could only sigh and squeeze the boys Shoulder. He couldn’t blame Zack for viewing them that way. Had they not been his friends he would have seen them exactly the same way. They were both the strongest SOLDIER’s Shinra had to offer. If Angeal was being truthful, they both had the potential to burn the world down.

But to him they were as they had always been. Two broken boy soldiers, too traumatised and broken down by the president and RnD to do more than cling to each other through the storm.

He feared the day one of them let go…

[holly-fixation]

Listen to the Cries of the Planet

Artwork by @winter-doggo

Summary: What if Jenova successfully copied Cetra DNA, and Sephiroth truly was part Cetra as a result? How would the Planet react? How would mako treatments change? Would he hear the planet? Would they be clear enough to understand? Or would the faintest tune curse him for being one of all: Human, Cetra, and Virus?

Sephiroth is truly chosen by the planet, but it came with a side effect no one expected. He doesn’t hear the voices of the planet. He hears their songs.

Trigger warnings: Medical abuse, child neglect, torture (Violence / abuse, Blood / injury, Medical / hospital imagery, self harm)

Author's note: There is a translation at the end for the 'musical lines' and a link here to listen to them. I describe what the songs should be in the paragraphs before and after them, but if they are confusing or there's not enough context to understand them, check out the key at the bottom with a quick Ctrl+F. They are listed in order of appearance.

Please enjoy.

…

Despite the strength they wanted him to have, they always treated Sephiroth like a failure. They always asked questions he did not understand. They always poked, and prodded, and sampled any part of him they saw fit. It wasn’t always this way. It wasn’t exactly this way. 

One scientist used to protect him. Kind and old. Professor Gast. The name still rang bitter sweetly in his mind.

Professor Gast left him here with Hojo. But he said he’d be back for him. He promised.

A little over a year later, the small regulations and limitations Gast barely convinced Hojo to implement completely fell through. He knew it. He knew he didn’t have much time before they put more mako in him.

They said it made him stronger. They told him to stop struggling. They told him it didn’t hurt nearly as much as he claimed.

The pain he could deal with. But it was so, so loud. 

He didn’t know why. They never stopped him or told him he was wrong when he explained it. But they seemed disappointed in something about it. Every time they gave him mako, his ears rang painfully with unidentifiable clamors. He couldn’t understand anything within the cacophony. He could barely see from the overstimulation. 

Mako hurt Sephiroth in ways he did not understand, and only when Professor Gast was there did anyone try to stop the treatments. 

But it was more than that. It wasn’t just mako. It wasn’t just ringing.

Sephiroth heard things all the time. Heard things no one else did. And he had heard them since the day he was born. 

“Professor?” He asked softly, his head all but tilted in curiosity at the sounds the man was making. 

“Hm?” That sound was different from the rest, meeting his reptilian eyes with spectacled ones. “What is it, Sephiroth?”

“What was that sound?” 

His brows knotted and he turned a bit more to face the boy properly. “Which sound?”

“The ones you made with your mouth closed,” Sephiroth answered simply. 

“Humming?” He almost chuckled at the thought, shaking his head softly. “I apologize. That song’s been stuck in my head for the past week.”

This time he really did tilt his head like a perplexed puppy. “What’s a ‘song’?”

He took a breath, trying to determine the correct explanation for the child. The boy understood this, watching and waiting quietly. “Songs are a combination of patterns and pitches, usually rhythms and notes.”

“Like the notes you write?”

He smirked softly with another shake of his head. “Musical notes are very different from my notes. I promise.”

“‘Musical notes’?”

Professor Gast nodded. “The parts that make up music.”

“What’s music?”

He frowned empathetically. The last time Sephiroth heard music, he was less than two years old. Hojo only permitted it due to studies showing it aided the intelligence of the developing brain. “I’m not sure if I can bring some in to listen to. It’s hard to explain exclusively with words.”

His little silver brows creased as he analyzed. “Music is something you can only hear?”

He rocked his head. “Technically you can read and write it. But if you can’t play some sort of musical instrument, then you usually only hear it. It’s meant to be heard.”

Sephiroth nodded in understanding, slowly looking down in thought. It took a few seconds before he looked up again. “Is there music now?”

Another shake of the head. “No, Sephiroth. All you’re hearing is the air in the vents. That’s not music.”

The boy chewed his lip as his eyes met the ground again. “Okay… But you said you'd try to show me music, right?”

He gave a sad sigh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

A few days later, Hojo agreed to allow the boy the same classical pieces of his development under the condition of a single warning to the man that suggested it. 

“Do not taint the boy’s interests with this. I will not have him waste his potential on something so frivolous. He will either lead them to The Promised Land, or become a soldier. Do not make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

With the usual level of pressure from Hojo, Gast finally showed the little boy the combination instruments, sounds, melodies, harmonies, and all he could gain from the pieces. 

In three words, Sephiroth ignited his hope in this project. 

“I hear that!” He announced with wide eyes excitedly, pointing at the speakers after the song ended. His reptilian eyes met the glasses happily. “That’s it! That’s what I hear all the time!”

He smiled at the boy’s excitement, but the confusion and restraint showed on his face. He needed proof before he could let the possibility of finding something consume his rational thoughts. “Do you make up songs on your own?” Perhaps it was only the subconscious memory of those early days that ignited the boy's excitement. 

“They’re not made up,” He tried to explain, relief in his breath. “I hear different music… in my head. Sometimes it’s people. Sometimes it’s places.” He looked away. “Sometimes it’s Hojo’s tests… but his tests and experiments are two different songs…” He suddenly hugged the scientist he trusted with all of his little heart. “You have one. Not everyone has their own. But you have one. It’s happy… slow, but happy…”

The possibility of this admission being another rabbit hole remained fairly high, but with just enough room for doubt, both scientists agreed to test this. Hojo sneered, relenting for the sake of the experiment, and bought the boy a full sized electronic keyboard. How long it would take the boy to use it was unknown. 

Sephiroth joyously spent his alone time learning and adjusting to the instrument with his unpracticed hands, his little fingers trying to move as fast as the neurons in his mind. 

He figured enough out after a few days, enough to play the tune he heard the most:

B flat - A - F - D - B flat - A - F - D

Everyday those four notes looped in Sephiroth’s consciousness, slowly circling him each moment he existed in this lab, always descending, always even, in time, predictable, echoing like a call. Sometimes it was calm and slow, usually in the morning, like the strings of a harp threatening to lull him back to sleep. Others, it was fast, quickening, pulling all his attention to whatever the current source was. Usually monsters, or extremely specific procedures. The incompleteness of the tune, how it only repeated various versions of that chord, sent a chill down his spine. Yet sometimes, it did soothe him, the predictability of the coming sounds. What was the true source of those notes?

He simply didn’t know.

However, this skill, ability, talent, whatever it was, aided him many times throughout his life. Too many times. No creature or machine could ambush him no matter the test. He heard the low pulse of stalking and the loud blasting the second before it attacked, letting the battle begin with the same rhythm as always:

1 - 2 - 3 - 1 - 2 - 3 - 1 - .

He tried to read between the lines of these tunes, but he always needed time to learn what they were connected to. The discovery period of that learning curve decreased as he aged, but it remained a bump in his path, required to climb without fail. 

The allotted learning time crumpled to less than a fraction after Professor Gast left. They used to test him, showing him images and asking if they sparked songs. A place with white trees. A crater. A forest. A village in snow. It always took ten minutes to figure out a single phrase of the melodies he heard, always stuck chasing after the previous part when the next section began, forced to wait until it looped before attempting again.

But the snow and Professor Gast shared the same song. Neither scientist spun a logical explanation for that. Gast never lived or desired to live in the cold. That discovery halted all resources wasted on this useless ability. They allowed the boy to keep his keyboard, the only connection remaining for transcription of any ‘new’ songs, in a desperate attempt to prove it was worth the money. 

Professor Gast left three days after the comparison. Sephiroth was left completely alone as a result, his only solicases the withering chocobo plush the professor gave him and the keyboard that always calmed him when he played well or even just figured things out.

He ran out of time. He avoided it for so long, agreeing to suffer through as many injections as possible, forcing the ringing blood of the planet to scratch and claw through his veins. If it kept Hojo away from those. If he pushed his results high enough, following whatever command, or test, or experiment, or trial, or battle. Whatever it took to keep those glowing green tanks full, sealed, and away from him. Whatever it took. Whatever he could do. 

It wasn’t enough. One morning rang his struggle worthless.

The door slid open and thin cloths flew at him, flung from the hand of the only ‘guardian’ that remained.

“Put these on and come out when you’re ready,” Hojo spat. 

Sephiroth ran to catch the clothes before looking up. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just get it done.” The door slammed closed without another word. 

The song was different. An upward scale that never completed.

D - . - E - . - F - G - A - B - C sharp

Never resolved. Never complete. Always reaching for more, greedy and detached. He always heard it when Hojo forced him to stand in front of the president and the higher ups. When he was told to stand still while they watched him and asked him questions. He knew it well, but he rarely heard it from Hojo alone. This was bad.

He took a deep breath before changing into the odd clothing. It was large, but not large enough to slip off. It stayed attached to his body, but air flowed easily through the cloth itself and its massive gaps between his skin, almost as if wearing nothing at all. He didn’t like this. He hated everything about this, but he had no choice. 

The moment he opened the door, Hojo grabbed his arm like a vice and pulled him across the lab. 

“Where are we going?” Sephiroth asked hesitantly, willing himself to allow the nearly painful grip on his arm without complaining. 

“I told you not to ask questions.”

“But what did I do wrong?” He ignored the statement, his mind too fuzzed by befuddlement to understand the request. “I thought I was doing good…”

“‘Well’,” Hojo corrected the child’s grammar before answering, “And the board doesn’t agree.” Even through his cold tone, the boy heard the slightest tink in the song. A simple note telling him that the scientist agreed, or he did at some point agreed, that Sephiroth was doing well with obviously improved results.

He didn’t speak again until he saw an empty mako tank, a portable metal stool resting from the floor to the open glass door as a poisonous invitation. Two velcro cuffs laid chained to the bottom, open and ready for the next victim.

No! 

Sephiroth froze and his feet rooted to the ground. Hojo was jerked back by the sudden immovable object. 

The scientist's frustrated stumble earned the boy a venomous glare. 

He shook his head, denying what he saw with his own eyes, hoping it was a lie, a test all on its own. “No…”

“Boy,” Hojo seethed, grabbing the child’s chin. “Don’t give me any trouble. Get in the tank.”

“No no no no- you promised!” He yelled, trying to pull away. Too much panic disordered his mind to comprehend the threat. 

“I changed my mind.” 

The beat of the song and his pulse accelerated together, rapidly searing in alarm. “But I did everything you asked! Why?!”

“The board expects higher results, and this is the only method we have not implemented that your body can handle, boy.” His black eyes blazed with cold indifference, an icy burn that pierced the little boy to his soul.

“Don’t do this… Please don’t do this…” The repeated descending notes of the lab circled faster and faster like moving in a vortex, pulled underwater by a whirlpool.

“Oh come on,” He let the boy’s face go, and the child held a hand to the assaulted skin unconsciously while he gestured to the tank. “You’ve never been in one. You have no idea if it’s better or worse than the injections. With this we can halve your injections and still have better results. Don’t you want that?”

He shook his head like a wet dog, denying every word out of the scientist’s mouth. “Hojo, please, I’ll do anything! Anything at all!” 

“You are limiting yourself with a fear you cannot justify. I will ask one last time.” He almost bared his teeth as he growled at the child. “Get in the tank. Now.” 

Sephiroth’s breath hitched, a pained gasp as the last of his supports collapsed to the ground. No one protected him anymore. No one cared. And he wasn’t strong enough to fight against them or make them happy. Tears fell down his cheeks, one each, before he swallowed the welling in his eyes deep inside him. His lip quivered without his control as he looked down, trying to hide, trying to escape, but Hojo jerked him toward the ladder before letting him go, waiting impatiently with crossed arms.

He took a painful breath to restrict his shaking. Each step thumped deeply against the tile floor as he stepped forward slowly, trying to ignore the sting of Hojo’s glare. He climbed the ladder and looked around the empty tank, the clear edges, the locked drain, the seal on the cap.

“Get in.”

Sephiroth’s brows knotted before he turned back slightly. “There are no tubes…”

“Of course not. You don’t need any.”

“I’ll drown!”

Hojo groaned and held the bridge of his nose. “Mako carries oxygen the same way air does. You can breathe it with time.”

Sephiroth didn’t believe him, but he didn’t have a choice. He stepped into the glass tank. He felt Hojo's glare burn his back as he attached the velcro restraints to his ankles. A lab tech removed the ladder as he did before the glass closed and sealed him in. 

He hated the glass. Something deep within him hated the inside of the clear tube.

Without warning, the rushing green liquid began filling the tank, the song in Sephiroth’s mind whirled with the same six notes over and over and over again.

D - A - D - B flat - G - A 

Despite his panic, the song was slow, unrushed and unhurried like tides following the moon, natural and calm, foreboding and dizzying. Sephiroth backed away as far as he could, but the mako already claimed his ankles. It didn’t hurt, yet, but it felt wrong. Like he didn’t belong. Like it rejected him. He kept shaking his head, silently begging Hojo to release him. That he won. That he had the results he wanted already. That he should let him out before something bad happens. 

Then it claimed his knees, and his rapid breathing claimed his rational mind, his hands itching to break through the glass as they twitched weakly. 

“That tank is designed for monsters.” Hojo spat, reading him like a book as always. “Don’t bother wasting your energy.”

Then it swallowed his hips, and he sobbed. He couldn’t stop himself. It hated him, the mako. It gave him bad feelings. Bad sounds. The smell. The radiation. It hated him. It wanted him out. He knew it by the flow along his skin and the foreboding repetitions in his ears.

Then his chin. He took the largest breath his lungs could contain as his sight flooded green from the filling container.

He held. Mako curtained his eyes with a green hue, but his sight remained perfectly clear despite the liquid.

Don’t breathe. 

He read about breathing techniques once, one of the books he was given for new combat strategies. Yet he was too afraid. The books said to release all breath before holding to minimize strain on the body. But if he let it go, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from-

Don’t breathe. 

He snapped his eyes to Hojo, still begging, silently pleading through the mako. He took a step closer to the glass, desperate to call on the aid of anyone nearby. Someone to help him. Anyone before this stuff hurts him-

Don’t… breathe…

His chest ached, forcing the over-contained breath into bubbles that floated playfully to the surface as he panicked. He clasped his hands over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying with everything he had to hold the air in. 

But it kept leaving through the mako around him, escaping straight through his fingers. 

Don't breathe!

His lungs screamed. His body cried against his mind. Mako didn’t want him. He didn’t want mako. It’s bad! It’s bad! But every cell in his body strangled against his last command. 

DON'T-

* * * 

One gasp, one step forward, and in three bangs Sephiroth shattered the glass, his tiny hands piercing the material like bullets before the brittle fracture destroyed the container. Hojo glared as he coughed and collapsed to the floor with a painful crush upon the shattered remains and wasted enhancement slowly flowing down the drains. The boy’s eyes glazed with the remnants of mako as he gasped the basic and useless air around them. 

His body stuttered, struggling as he tried to hold his head. His body ever so slightly rocked back and forth as he curled into himself. 

“Prepare the next tank,” Hojo commanded nonchalantly, as if asking for a glass of water, as if he expected the child to break through the limits of his power in an attempt to hide from the gift of more. “And use proper restraints this time.” He clearly overestimated the boy’s loyalty, and giving him simple restraints was his own mistake. 

Two of the lab technicians knelt down to the boy, routinely synchronized as they grabbed his arms and tried to lift him up. 

Tried. 

Like a machine, like a hydraulic press, he crushed both of their hands slowly, thoughtlessly, jerking and fighting to remain on the ground. The technicians grasped their own hands and ran off to medical with a few others following and helping along. 

His panic only allowed soft moans and pants to leave his lips instead of any true explanation, unstable and unnatural.

Hojo groaned at their immediate surrender and approached the boy himself. He knelt down and turned Sephiroth by his shoulder, unalarmed and barely controlled. Unlike the two technicians, he remained unharmed, not a single attempt to attack. But this close, he heard whispers through the boy's panting breaths, unclear and impossible to translate. Repetitive, terrified, and desperate by the look in his wide open eyes.

The child continued rocking against the shattered glass, each chip piercing through his back, drawing the faintest blotches of blood to stain his thin clothing. Yet each wound healed as he tipped off the ground before his back hit the glass again, a perfect negative feedback loop, perfect equilibrium as the only damage truly sustained were the green and red stains and holes that grew in his clothes. 

Hojo should've thrown the boy in the next tank immediately, but at the thought alone the child cringed and tensed, ready to pounce, ready to attack. The moment he focused on the boy’s condition rather than fate, the child relaxed ever so slightly, relaxed enough. Instead, Hojo leaned closer and closer until he understood the desperate whimpers. 

“No I’m not… I’m not… I’m not… Why…? Please… Please…” Nonsense poured out of the child’s mouth, and the scientist almost denied the boy a chance at rest, until he heard the next cry. “I’m not a monster… I'm human… I'm human… I was born here…” 

What the hell was he reacting to? What was wrong with his mind? Mako osmosis in this state could permanently damage his brain. The boy was losing it. He needed neurological testing. Now.

* * * 

The MRI scans showed nothing, not a single change beyond the expected results of mako intake. Neither did the EEG or PET or CT scans. So why was he still rocking like that? Why was he still muttering and stumbling through nonsense?

Sephiroth was on his bed at the far end of his room, rocking against the wall with his knees held close to his chest. He did not react to any commands they gave unless they physically pulled him. He would walk when yanked, sit when pushed, and follow when guided. But gods forbid they dared turn towards an empty tank. When even the slightest inkling of returning to the tanks passed through his mind, he attacked. They quickly found that leaving him in his room was safer for everyone, including himself. 

Hojo did not leave the observation glass, his eyes analyzing the boy no matter how much time had passed. What did he know? 

What is he hearing? 

For hours, all the boy's whispers were the same as if caught in the crest of insanity. Again, and again, and again he repeated the same phrases, the same exhausted pleas of what he suddenly thought was true. 

“I’m human… I’m human… I’m not a monster… Not an-an abomination… please…”

The scientist sighed again, rubbing his eyes. A small part of him wanted to believe this was his Cetra power awakening. They boy had some traces of Cetra genetics, he tested them himself, but how long was this going to last? He couldn't find a justified solution beyond knocking the boy unconscious until this episode passed. Hopefully, he would retain a small fraction of this possible communicative ability. Disrupting it now could cause irreparable damage. 

“...I don’t know… I don’t know…”

He should sedate the child soon. Compliant or not, potential or none, this was wasting too much time. At least then the boy’s body could regulate and remove these abnormal mako effects without making noise.

“Lu…” Finally the boy started saying something new. “Lucre…cia…?”

Hojo's indifference vanished. His body flooded in alarm, his aghast eyes targeting the boy's in a silent demand to repeat despite the one way glass. How did he know that name? Surely he misheard it. There was no way he knew that name. Unless the Planet-

“Who- who’s Lucrecia…?” His panicked breath returned with a vengeance. “V-Vincent? Who's Vincent? I don’t understand... I-I don’t understa-” Something cut him off and he stared directly into Hojo's black eyes. 

The scientist jerked back at the sudden movement and the desperate, pathetic expression on his son's face. 

“...are you my father…?” At first, he barely whispered. “Are you my father, Hojo…?” 

The scientist said nothing, entrapped by the boy's challenge. 

“Professor Hojo, Are you my father?!” The boy shouted desperately, persistently, as if trying to prove something, as if everything in this deranged episode depended on that answer, clawing his own nails into his arms and drawing blood without reacting to the pain. “Hojo! Who’s Vincent?! Who’s Lucrecia!? What happened to Professor Gast!? Hojo! HOJO!” 

“Knock him out. Now,” was his only order. Hojo did not move from his place behind the window, watching silently. Questions and theories and hypotheses he needed to prove rapidly generating in his mind. 

Technicians began rushing the room and restraining him for sedation. 

“ARE YOU MY FATHER!?” Sephiroth demanded with crazed eyes, twisting and arching only to escape the needle, yet not harming a single hand on his body. “HOJO, ARE YOU MY FATHER!? I KNOW YOU’RE THERE, HOJO! HOJO-” 

Finally he reacted to some outward input, wincing with a single grunt as the needle slipped through his skin, crashing his assault as it instantly circulated his veins. A small shaft of metal somehow pierced him back to reality despite the greater wounds he caused himself without reaction. 

Yet he still struggled against it, battling futilely but battling nonetheless. “Hojo- Hojo please… who’s Lu-... who’s Lucre-...” He forced his final inquiry through his failing body. “...wh-who’s my mother… who… who’s… Mo…ther…”

The chemical claimed the last of his consciousness, and the technicians carefully laid him in the bed, placing his head on the pillow before wiping away the drying blood on his arms. 

The next day, the boy recalled nothing. Not a single order given or taken, not a word out of his mouth, not a single question or reaction. He only remembered the pain of the mako, the terror of that first breath, and the eerie sense that something was different now. 

They never put him in a mako tank again. 

* * * 

Years passed. So much had changed. His training continued and mako injections were a daily affair, but something was off within the past few months. Hojo finally took interest in someone else, splitting his attention throughout the day. Someone like him, the boy assumed at first, yet he could not be more wrong. Hojo didn’t train them, or use mako with them, or present them to the board. They just existed, with one going for backroom testing and the other remaining in their cell all day.

That ‘other’ was a girl. And that girl had a mother. Aerith and Ifalna. He heard their names a few times through the hallways during his transitions between training, mako treatments, and medical examinations.

He despised them, both of the useless women. 

He caught enough moments of them together to know what they did, how Aerith was a complete chatterbox and Ifalna always smiled when she held her. He didn’t care that they were ‘unique’ according to his guardian. Each time he saw them, he felt angry. He wanted to be as far away from them as possible, to never hear either of their songs again. 

Hojo, however, gave Sephiroth no choice. 

Sephiroth and Aerith had already spent several hours of the last few days ‘playing’, which usually amounted to Aerith doing something childish and annoying while he gave one word responses to whatever random topic she was on about. Houses, flowers, the outside, her drawings. Gods he couldn’t care less. 

At least her song was nice. 

It always started calm, almost ‘pretty’. It was high pitched for most of the notes, but it was both fast and slow at the same time. High yet deep. Ugh. He hated trying to describe songs with words. It was just weird. Why couldn’t he just say Aerith’s song was nice and then move on? Why did the lab constantly question him about this? They hadn't asked him in a few years about his pieces, but it was still inconvenient. It wasn’t like they let him practice anymore either.

Ifalna’s song was very different, bouncy and foreboding at the same time. He always found himself rigidly at attention when he heard her labyrinth-like piece. It vaguely reminded him of unsolved puzzles, ancient and hidden, but that was only the vibe he felt. With the puzzles came uncertainty, so he always kept his eye on the mother when she came close. 

A - A flat - G - G flat - F - . - E - E - C - . - A - . - A - . -

That song circled constantly, a different kind of dizzying than the one he heard in the lab. Rarely though, but it did happen, her song was snow, just like the photos the technicians showed him when he first discovered his ability. Luckily, today she was as far as she could be, on the other side of the room with a guard on each side, so Aerith’s song took over completely. Songs never played over each other, but if they were strong enough and close enough, they ‘mixed’. They weren’t bad together, but it was dizzying. He was just exhausted, and it was easier to focus on a single piece at a time.

“Sephyyy-” 

He felt the pokes at his cheek and he swatted her away with a small groan. Why couldn’t she be quiet? Her song was the only good part about these wastes of time. She only caused more stress. “Don’t call me that and stop poking me.”

“But you weren’t answering. Why are you so sleepy?”

Probably because I actually do things and not just play all day. The dark bags under his eyes were merely a fraction of what he felt. “I’m really busy. That’s why.”

“But we’re playing. This is supposed to be fun!”

He winced at her volume. “Fun…” He muttered, the word practically separate from any true meaning in his mind.

The little girl with brown hair scratched the back of her head and looked away. “Well I guess that’s not completely true. Sometimes having fun makes me tired.” She shot her gaze back to him. “Are you doing anything fun to get tired?”

He shook his head, then shrugged. 

“What does that mean?”

He shrugged more. “I’m not supposed to spend time on ‘fun’. I’m supposed to be perfect.”

“Why are perfect and fun two different things?”

Sephiroth groaned, putting a hand on his head. She wouldn't understand. She didn’t have any kind of purpose like he did. She just wasted space. Gods he was tired. “Aerith, please, just let me rest. It’s loud enough without talking all the-”

Her eyes went wide when he accidentally let that comment slip. He tried to cut himself off, but there was no denying what she already heard. She definitely had no idea what he was talking about. No one heard anything like him. So why was she excited again? “It is pretty loud in here. I hear things all the time-”

“Aerith,” Her mother cut her off. Ifalna rarely spoke when the two children were forced to interact, probably under the threat of Hojo’s gaze. 

“Sorry, Mama…”

But all of a sudden, Sephiroth’s interest sparked his exhaustion away. He knew to everyone else these rooms were silent beyond the air in the vents. “You hear things?”

She nodded before her eyes widened and she nearly jumped in excitement. “You hear things too!”

“What do you hear?”

“What do YOU hear?!”

“I asked you first.” Sephiroth hated stooping to her level with the same childish mannerisms she used against him, but it was the fastest way to an answer. 

“I hear voices in my head. Nice voices! But Mama says I’m not supposed to talk about them…” She giggled nervously, swinging her arms to release a bit of energy. “...oops. What about you?”

A bit of his hope crumpled at her explanation. He crossed his arms softly and looked away, but he answered honestly, “I hear music. All the time. Sometimes it’s places, or battles, or people.”

“People?” She perked up, her bangs bobbing with her sudden movement. She leaned closer to him, and he leaned back as far as he could against the wall as she excitedly invaded his personal space. “Do I have one?”

Why was she so excited about this? He frowned and turned away, her green eyes bearing into his soul from her lack of distance. “...Yes. You and Ifalna have separate songs.”

She gasped, a giant smile on her face. “Can you sing it for me?”

He glared silently, cringing away from her suggestion with disgust. 

“Oh come on! If it’s my own song I wanna hear it!” She grabbed his arm and looked up innocently. “Pleeeeeaaaase.” 

He flicked his arm to push her off softly. She was unbelievably fragile. He always needed to be careful around her. “No. I don't sing and I don’t have time to learn it.”

“Learn it how?” Gods her eyes were wide. Can she please stop looking at him like that? 

“I. I can play the piano.”

She literally jumped up and down. “You play an instrument?!”

He winced. “I already told you I don’t have time to figure it out.”

Aerith turned to her mother and the guards. “Mama, can he figure out my song in here? I wanna hear it!”

Sephiroth didn't see Ifalna's nonverbal response. He was too busy holding his hand over his eyes in embarrassment. 

Eventually Aerith chose a different topic for the rest of their little session. He wasn't sure if he was more or less grateful for it, but at least it changed the conversation. All he really wanted was some actual rest. Yet once he left their cell, Hojo grabbed him by the arm and pulled him aside. 

“You knew they had songs?” The scientist questioned sternly. Sephiroth couldn't figure out why. These songs were only a talent, useless and pointless to his worth just as Hojo always told him. They didn’t mean anything. And he already explained their songs to one of the orderlies. Why did he have to say it again?

“Why do you care?”

“Don’t be smart with me, boy.”

His brows furrowed and he stared for a second, Hojo’s gaze challenging him beneath the black glasses. He felt his resolve waiver under the burning sensation before he answered in defeat. “Yes, they both have songs…”

“Then learning them sounds like a good bonding experience.”

Sephiroth shook his head. “I genuinely don't have the time. Not with my current schedule.”

“If you remain diligent in your duties, I can adjust your daily routine to allow extra time. But you better use it, or so help me, boy-” Hojo kept speaking, but Sephiroth almost rolled his eyes as he ignored the man. He was already being lectured for future disobedience. What was the point of complaining before anything happened? 

A little over two weeks passed after Aerith’s request before he learned her tune ‘well enough’, as he called it. His adjusted regimen gave him about half an hour a day of well used time. He truly spent all of his given time at his old keyboard, though Hojo always seemed reluctant even after their little agreement. With this simple adjustment, Sephiroth’s results were undeniably better. Though obviously awake as he learned more of the tune, he felt calmer, more rested. Something about the exterior sound or the focus of the skill or maybe the lack of danger significantly lowered his overall cortisol levels. 

Despite only being allowed to learn her piece to have a bearable bonding experience with the little girl for once, he was not prepared for her reaction when he entered her room with the keyboard and its stand. She touched and dragged her hand across every inch of his inventory before he even had the chance to set up. He literally had to shoo her back so he could play at all.

“But I wanna hear it!” She yelled excitedly, excitedly jittering in her spot. 

“You won't hear anything unless I plug it in first.” He knew how to assemble his instrument quickly, but that did not help a single shred of calm enter Aerith’s body. 

She questioned him about literally every step. Why was the stand so high? Why couldn’t he play on the floor? What was that black thing he left on the floor? Why did it have so many buttons? Sephiroth tried hard to answer her questions enough that she’d leave him be. She, in fact, did not leave him be. She stayed right next to him even as he turned on the instrument and immediately did the worst thing she possibly could:

She smacked the high keys, repeatedly, inconsistently and dissonantly, each electronic pluck twitching his eye. He hadn’t touched a single key yet and already she found a way to make this miserable. 

“Aerith, stop it. You don't know how to play.” He couldn’t stop his snippiness. Something about that sound irked him to no end, the faintest memory of discipline ghosting the back of his mind. His hands hovered above the keys like the drawn claws of a cat, trying not to give into the temptation to push her invasive hand off the board. 

“But this is fun!”

“I don’t care. It’s my keyboard.”

“Can you teach me how to play?”

“What? No, absolutely not.”

“Why nooooooot?”

“If you keep complaining, I won’t play your song.”

Somehow, thankfully, that got her to stop completely. She even stopped talking, giving him a moment to breathe deeply and wait for the song in his mind to restart before joining it on the board. Though at this point these chords and movements were quite simple to him, the little girl watched with enthralled wide eyes. 

F sharp - A - D - C sharp - E - D - B - C sharp - A - . - . - . - E - . - . - . -

As he played, he remained completely focused on the task of Aerith’s song yet also utterly calm at the same time. Even the most intense pieces helped him… ‘relax’ a bit. 

Clearly Aerith’s trance-like state while watching was a side effect too. She didn’t say a single word as she observed his skill and listened deeply to what he called her song. She loved it. She immediately asked him to play it again when he stopped. That was probably the first good idea she ever had, in his opinion. Sephiroth never forgot that day or the look in her eyes. He actually caved and taught her the very beginning of the melody. It took a week or two before she could finally play it to any recognizable degree. 

Those were the best days of his memory with them. Soon an incident pulled Sephiroth away before he even left for Wutai. He never saw the mother or daughter again, but he never forgot Aerith’s song.

* * * 

SOLDIER First Class. The Demon of Wutai. The Silver Soldier. The Silver General, dubbed as a term of endearment by the public. Though he was top of his craft, Sephiroth was not a general. He could command without hesitation, but such authority came from being a First Class SOLDIER, no other title required. He was one of the very first members of the program, a poster child for recruitment as well as a tactical prodigy on the battlefield. His reputation, unlike most, was entirely true. Rumors about entire battles won alone, monsters taken down in a single blow, enemy generals hesitating under his gaze alone. Every word of it was true. 

Yet for reasons far beyond him, Shinra occasionally demanded he show a more ‘personable’ side. He found himself obligated to go to the various ‘optional’ galas and parties, usually to celebrate some holiday or some breakthrough in mako production or some other mundane event. His superiors quickly discovered these dances were the only public promotions he joined without creating incredible discomfort and awkwardness around his image, though it took many failed talk shows for that decision to be made. Even then, he could not dance. He didn’t have the care to learn. He had the necessary manners and formal attire to blend in well enough, but these were not the reason. 

They let Sephiroth play the grand piano that Shinra only displayed on special occasions as a main event, a silent audience watching the skill of the First Class outside the battlefield. The public ate up every scrap of the seasoned warrior creating such beautiful music every blue moon. Videos, photographs, onlookers, playing his instrument was the only time these things didn’t annoy him. Playing was the only true escape he had. His friends certainly helped, but the instrument even aided his growing insomnia, letting him play for late hours into the night under the dim light of the mako reactors against the dark sky. It was his only ‘hobby’. His only ‘relaxation’.

However, the day of the training incident, that freedom shattered. He damaged his friend in an easily avoidable scenario, using far too much strength in a simple training simulation like a child without a shred of self control over its limits. He tried to avoid the mako blue gaze with his back turned as the friend rambled on with the expected poem. Yet the friend wouldn’t heal. The doctor wouldn’t let him donate a single resource to heal the friend he injured. He spent hours waiting against the wall for any and every update. 

Only a few days later, the friend abandoned Shinra. Abandoned him. Then his only other friend abandoned him as well, leaving a barely functioning puppy of an apprentice in his wake. No matter the emotion in the songs he heard, Sephiroth only felt a growing weight in his chest. He had no desire to use his sword or even play his instrument. He spent most of his time in the data room searching for answers. 

Why did they leave? Why did they go?

The song felt louder and louder with each word he read in the archives, the same song as the lab, as his childhood. Fast falling notes circled him constantly, screaming more secrets he did not understand. There had to be something, anything this talent was good for beyond battle. No one could ambush him, these songs always warned him, but that was the only good result from this genetic defect. He desperately needed answers, yet all he received were the same four notes. A warning. A calling. A curse. It didn’t matter. 

Sephiroth never convinced his friends to return. One begged for death from the puppy that deserved far better than this life. The other ambushed him and vindictively drilled what he knew to be true down his throat.

Poor little Sephiroth… You’ve never actually met your mother. You’ve only been told her name, no?

That memory pushed him to keep reading.

She’s a monster. 

They used the remains of countless failed experiments to create the perfect monster.

Some tiny part of him cowered in the corner of his mind, begging for a different truth to reveal itself. Crying that every word had to be a lie. That this wasn’t fair. That there must be something else. Yet every word in the basement of Shinra Manor tore that shriveling desperation into complete despair. 

The Jenova Project. Professor Gast. Mako testing. SOLDIER.

Over the course of his descent into each report, the song around him changed despite the static time in this windowless lab. The manor first sounded uneasy, unsettling in its plucking, lonely nature. Never in his life did a song change without new scenery or new people approaching, but he did not care. The foreboding piece quieted, replaced by a heartbeat and a single chime. A bell. A warning. An omen of death. Yet he still remained with the books, the truth, the horror of reality:

He’s a monster. 

He’s a monster. 

He’s a Monster.

He knew of some cultures that believed a bell toll marked when death itself came for one’s soul. Death was far from a terrible fate, however. Death was a mercy. Death would at least protect him from this. He never needed to know about this. He never wanted this.

He was a monster just like his mother, a being that according to these reports still lived to some extent. Living cells were injected into multiple test subjects, including him: a Human-Cetra hybrid that couldn’t even hear the planet, only the heartbeat and toll in his ears. They did this to him. Scientists. Shinra. The public. Humanity. Everything around him was fabricated to make a new specimen just as worthless as the monsters he fought.

Sors immanis…

Sephiroth shot to attention, his head instantly out of the latest book to target the source of those words. He never heard that voice before. Where did it come from? Who in all the gods-?

Et inanis…

It wasn’t one voice. It wasn’t real, at least not to anyone except him. There were multiple speakers, singing in time with the song like a choir. 

A song.

He had never heard lyrics before. His voice caught in his throat with his silent questions.

Was he losing his mind? After everything he'd been through?

Sors immanis…

You did not choose your monstrous fate.

He dropped the pages with a loud clunk to the ground as his catlike eyes widened in desperate search for the source of the words. But her- Her?- ‘the’ voice came from everywhere all at once. 

Et inanis…

Emptiness and loneliness were thrust upon you.  

Despite his bated breath and panic infected body, the faux heartbeat and bell kept their same languid time, twisting his heart further and further within his chest. 

Will you continue down the same path?

Sors immanis…

He grabbed his head, his silver locks leaking through his fingers as he pushed back against the shelves. What was happening to him? What was wrong with him?

Is there anything left waiting for you?

Et inanis…

His friends were gone. He lived every day trapped in routine and missions to hide from the weight in his chest. The sting. The pain. The ache.

They made you. They use you. What is it worth?

Suffering. Loss. A terrible fate to all he’s ever met.

Sors immanis…

“What’s happening…?” He forced the broken question to the air, to the spector, the soft yet consuming cosmic voice. “What are you…?”

You know the answer. It hasn't come to you yet, but you know it. 

That made absolutely no sense to him, his brows knotting painfully on his terrified face. The heartbeat. The toll. Every sound ricocheted in his skull, compounding with each impact. 

You’ve always wanted me. And I’ve missed you so much. 

Veni veni venias…

He forced his inhuman eyes closed against the noise. He couldn't think straight, his senses overwhelmed.

I’ve been waiting. It took so long to reach you. 

“Who are you…?” His weak voice barely floated over his breath. 

Ne me mori facias…

“Why are you dying…?” He didn’t even notice his sudden understanding of the unknown language. “Why do I need to save you…?”

Veni veni venias…

He slid down the shelf, his will and sliver of remaining strength slowly leaving his body as a coil around his chest tightened his very breath itself. His majestic black coat fell to a puddle of tar and mercury on the ground. “No- I won’t, not until I know what you are…”

Ne me mori facias…

Everything burned, every voice searing his mind as they grew louder and louder and louder. They kept chanting for eternity, his sense of time shattered, trapped in the cycle of the same two phrases until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Veni veni venias…

Make it stop…

Ne me mori facias…

Make it stop.

Veni veni venias…

Make it stop!

Ne me mori facias…

MAKE IT STOP!

S e p h i r o t h . . . 

The choir and the voice came together for the single call of his name, and suddenly everything clicked together, pieces falling into place, finally revealing the picture. The pain flushed away and his eyes opened again. He slowly looked up, his head slightly tilted like a begging puppy. A desperate, pleading puppy. Terrified of rejection and acceptance all the same. 

I’ve always wanted her…

“...Mother…?”

He felt the warmth of his admission wash over him like a calm shower of rain. 

Yes, my son. I am here. I am so close. 

Veni veni venias…

He began to stand at the repeated commands of the song, beginning to obey. He didn’t even question her. Her ‘death’ was just another lie from the swines that raised him. She was here. Only that mattered. “Where are you? Where do I need to go?”

You’ve been there before. You were so close, just one room away.

The reactor. The monster pods. The marquee. 

Ne me mori facias…

“You’ve been alive this whole time…” His suppressed guilt bubbled to the surface. She died in childbirth. But she was here now. Close. Alive. “Then why are you dying?”

Humans. Humanity itself. They kept me locked away. They kept us apart to torture us. They knew we'd be too powerful together. 

How dare they. Sephiroth seethed silently, his mind rapidly believing every word. They took his life. They stole his mother. Did they torture her the same way they tortured him? Were they selfish enough to throw her in a mako tank too? How dare they. How Dare They! “How do I save you?”

You are so close. You know what to do. Do it. Do it and find me. Do it and we will reign together. 

Veni veni venias…

“They deserve to suffer,” He stated as his eyes twitched in covered rage, like boiling water covered by a lid, pressure building and building. This anger wasn’t for her. It was for them. 

They do. Make them. Take all the rage you’ve stored for so long and unleash it. Your loneliness. Your despair. Your pain. You're the only one who can, my son.

Ne me mori facias…

“I’m coming, Mother. I’m coming. Wait for me just a moment longer.”

He left the library. He left the basement for the first time in days. He left the manor and stared at the town of worthless creatures that stood by and did nothing while he and his mother were tortured.

They all. Deserved. To burn. 

The choir sang him on, encouraging his vehement rage and fury suffering as he charged his materia.

Estuans interius

Ira vehementi

Estuans interius

Ira vehementi

Sephiroth!

In a single cast, the entire village went up in flames, his weapon twitching at his side with the first bloodlust he relished to bring to the world before him.

* * * 

The choir didn’t stop. It only muffled a bit when Mother spoke. Yes. His mother. After all this time he finally got to be with her. He finally saw her, trapped within the tank in the catacombs of the reactor. He could finally reach her, no more lies, no more fakes, no more boundaries. Only a single pane of glass remained and the joy he felt when he reached for it was unparalleled. 

Yet the worthless creatures tried to stop him. They all tried to take him down head on, but only when he was so close, so close to mother’s embrace did some nameless cadet stab him through the back. 

He was dying. He was weakened. He didn’t have the strength to save her, so he brought her with him for his ultimate revenge before his heart gave out and his body collapsed. 

When he stabbed the boy through the chest, the child somehow had the strength to overcome him. In his mindless moment of shock, his grip locked to the blade as if his life depended on it, and that single decision had him fung across the bridge to the wall. His body peeled off the metal indent before he was falling through the air into a sea of mako below.

Mako.

No no no no- you promised!

Hojo, please, I’ll do anything! Anything at all!

Even with his mother’s mission, their mission, that terror remained. The memory of the mako tank. The green fluid that dangerously infected his very being. 

Don’t breathe! Don’t Breathe! DON'T BREATHE! 

The last rhythm of his heart pounded rapidly and painfully through his body. He cradled Mother’s head close to his heart, pleading silently to speak to him, to protect him. Begging quietly because his voice already failed him. He crashed into the deadly green with an agonizing splash, and though he could not protect Her, he kept her against him. He held his breath in his shattering lungs until he was forced to take his final breath of the planet’s Lifeblood.

He waited.

He winced.

He knew it was coming.

…but it didn’t. Not a single note or instrument or voice of the planet tainted his mind.

It was silent. Peaceful. Loving. Caring. Though Mother wasn’t speaking yet, She gave him the first silence he ever experienced. It was so calm, so different. Rarely he heard the four notes from the lab circle slowly, but he learned the piece was truly his Mother’s, not Shinra’s, not Hojo’s, not the labs. It was Her single signal that She was there for him always, since the very beginning, since he first learned of this ability, since he first learned to talk.

She was with him. She helped him. It was so calm, so freeing. His fear of this green prison faded as Her occasional notes gave him the strength to rebuild and carry out their mission. She aided him. He aided her. The music was merely a lullaby now, and he drifted tranquilly along the Lifestream with his unbroken embrace around Her.

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Thanks for reading! 

Songs in order of appearance: 

JENOVA: B flat - A - F - D - B flat - A - F - D

Let the Battles Begin: 1 - 2 - 3 - 1 - 2 - 3 - 1 - .

"Shinra, Inc.": D - . - E - . - F - G - A - B - C sharp

Listen to the Cries of the Planet: D - A - D - B flat - G - A 

Forested Temple: A - A flat - G - G flat - F - . - E - . - C - . - A - . - A - . -

Aerith's theme: F sharp - A - D - C sharp - E - D - B - C sharp - A - . - . - . - E - . - . - . -

.

One Winged Angel (translated): 

Sors immanis - Monstrous fate

Et inanis - And empty

Veni veni venias - Come, come, O come

Ne me more facias - Don’t let me die

Estuans interius - Burning inside

Ira vehementi - With violent anger

Sephiroth - Sephiroth

.

Author’s note: Can you tell I play an instrument?

Well, this is it! The long awaited submission for the Sephiroth bang. This was my first Fandom event and I had a fantastic time. I truly chose something I would call purely my own idea. I hope you enjoyed it!

Again a big Thank You to @winter-doggo for the artwork and @sephirothevents Twitter for pairing us up! 

[rottenpumpkin13]

I'm curious, what do you think was the WORST injury Zack had and SOMEHOW got away with it? You can go Hurt/No Comfort if you want we're all collective masochists in the end

Have it your way >:^) - also this took so long because I wrote a version that was not a fun read for the Zack enjoyers and had to tone it down asdfghjk

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

He vaguely recalled reading an article about comatose patients: how their consciousness, though unresponsive, remained active—suspended in void between life and death, poised to be drawn toward one or the other. Comas were like waiting rooms, and he almost wished he had something to occupy his mind—a magazine, a comic book, even a crossword puzzle, despite his usual disdain for them; anything to drown out the voices that began at precisely 4 PM each day.

Angeal was always the first to arrive, the squeak of his boots unmistakable against the polished hospital floor. He would listen intently as the supervising nurse provided updates on the condition—“No significant changes in his neurological status, the expected timeframe for him regaining consciousness remains uncertain.” But Angeal's positivity never wavered. "He will," he would insist, bless his ignorance, "Zack's strong.. He'll pull through this, I know he will."

In the first week, Zack wanted to shout, “Hell yeah I am! Watch, Angeal, I’ll be out of here in no time!” By the third week, it was as if he’d lost his voice—both literally and metaphorically. Zack prided himself on his perseverance, as if he were born with sunny-tinted glasses that allowed him to pull through everything without a fight.

Scraped knees as a child became cool battle wounds in his childhood; timeouts transformed into prisons the warrior he pretended to be had to escape; and the vegetables his mother forced him to eat were poison he had to avoid at all costs. Naturally, the waiting room analogy was what he clung to in order to stay sane.

Next came Sephiroth, heralded by the unmistakable clatter of his shoulder guards—a sound Zack likened to a cat bell, one he’d be sure to tease Sephiroth about when he woke up. Sephiroth never asked the nurse for updates; Angeal must have already filled him in. Instead, he would walk silently over to the bed, place a hand gently on Zack’s forehead, and whisper softly: “I miss you. Get well soon,” before carefully adjusting his blankets, making sure Zack was comfortable.

Inside, Zack was desperately screaming, "I will, I promise!" but Sephiroth couldn't hear him. By the fourth week, the harder Zack tried to scream, the further he felt from reality.

Then came Genesis, his presence inundating the room. He spoke to Zack as if he were awake, greeting him with a cheerful, "Good evening, Puppy," and proudly asking, "What do you think of my new coat?" Zack wished he would never stop talking. Genesis would then sit beside him and read aloud from Loveless. Zack suspected it was Genesis’ version of a prayer, and for that, he didn't mind at all.

And then there was Cloud. Zack's longing to scream out surged whenever he caught the meek shuffle of Cloud's boots, followed by the faint squeak of him thanking the nurse before entering. Cloud would meticulously style Zack's hair, crafting his signature spikes with care, as if determined to preserve Zack's essence even in his incapacitated state. His touch was gentle as he spoke to Zack as though he were awake and listening intently. Cloud would vent about his rowdy squad mates, grumble about his stern commanding officer, and lament the monotony of patrol missions where he strived to do his best

And then came the most difficult confession.

"I'm gonna stop trying out for SOLDIER," Cloud admitted one day, his voice soft as he tended to the flowers by Zack's bedside. "Tryouts are approaching, but… it just wouldn't feel right without you. Not that I'm all that confident I'd make it anyway, but I can't bring myself to do it without you here."

If Cloud could glimpse inside Zack's mind, he'd hear him screaming.

He was so helpless, trapped inside that cage, that body that wouldn't just WAKE UP. He needed to get up, he needed to be there for Cloud, and for Angeal who wasted so much time training him, and for Genesis who was finally starting to warm up to him, and for Sephiroth, who’s friendship he valued so much.

But it was useless.

He wanted to give up.

So he did.

He caved, and let the darkness take him.

But it rejected Zack. As much as death teased and loved to embrace him, it eventually always spat him out again. And maybe that was Zack Fair’s curse, cemented when his eyes fluttered open one morning.

Hovering above him was the unmistakable silhouette of a SOLDIER. With great effort, he lifted his heavy eyelids, only to find Kunsel standing before him, his appearance clearly older than the last time he had seen him. Zack should have noticed the calendar hanging on the wall, its numbers spelling out the year "0007."

Yet, instead of acknowledging the date, Zack's trembling voice broke through the silence. He questioned Kunsel, struggling with each word. He asked about Angeal, Cloud, Sephiroth, and Genesis.

Kunsel looked grim before replying.

“There was a mass desertion at SOLDIER years ago.”

[lunarianebula872]

just a heads up there will be blood in the 2nd image because this is how C!Zack encounters another version of a Cloud.

Context for this Cloud is that he once was effected by Jenova however Gaia went back in time and due to some events Cloud was freed from Jenova's control, Cloud remembers the events along with his four SOLDIER first boyfriends [and since this takes Cloud back before he joins Shinra and before he's even enhanced so it ment that Cloud can't do any damage] Sephiroth, Angeal, Genesis, and Zack remember as well and go out of their way to get Cloud in secret in a quote on quote "SOLDIER recruit" thing which works though with the fears of Cloud falling into what happened before it causes some issues where the four end up putting Cloud under a type of house arrest

Cloud during this point just feels he deserves it however he does notice that his boyfriends fear him more then show that they love him and on top of him doubting himself more he feels like he doesn't belong and that he ruined his relationships with them [with a tracker that's used he's only allowed access to his room and the attached bathroom only], Angeal makes sure Cloud is fed but overtime notices the lack of food Cloud intakes and the more Cloud sleeps [Cloud sleeps on the floor as he feels he doesn't deserve the bed which makes whoever found him sleeping on the floor has to put him in bed] Angeal becomes concerned since Cloud isn't eating and is sleeping more often which makes him check to see if Cloud is sick and to see if Cloud will intake soup [which he doesn't touch], Angeal grows more and more concerned as Cloud suddenly stops eating entirely and starves himself

Angeal has to explain to the others and they beg/coax Cloud to eat which works somewhat, after some time Zack is left taking care of Cloud and decides to see if Cloud would play Chocobo Racers with him like old times before the events that made Cloud go mad happened but all Cloud does is stare off into space as Zack noticed Cloud sat in a corner all day and doesn't move at all from said location

Zack does talk to Cloud which makes him warm up a little again to Cloud but soon notices Cloud looked ready to cry however before Zack could say anything Cloud cries and the only things he repeats is "I'm sorry" and that he's a "monster who doesn't deserve anything" Zack is quickly taken aback by this and in his puppy ways hugs Cloud tightly to comfort Cloud and try to reassure him, Zack manages overtime to calm Cloud down but knows he needs to inform the others about the meltdown

Once the others are informed of the meltdown and how poorly Cloud views himself is when Sephiroth and Genesis [when they don't have missions] go to check on Cloud and they both see what Zack see and also come across the apologizes and self depreciating thoughts roll out of Cloud which promptly makes them feel bad about what's going on however they can't get a therapist to aid them without drawing attention so they all take turns checking in on Cloud who still needs to be bribed to eat and to give a small confidence boost [the confidence boost thing doesn't work]

Overtime Cloud just stops talking and everything all together like he's stuck in his own head which worries his four SOLDIER boyfriends and they even feel a distance from Cloud this prompts them to try and get Cloud to not be stuck in his head and to eat food though this is where they notice that Cloud is lacking sleep while they think nightmares and the trauma that happened are the cause and try their best to help in any way they can

Cloud soon here's a female voice that doesn't sound like Gaia or Jenova speak to him and he finds what looks like a summon but in truth wasn't as it messed with Cloud's head and makes him leave with the her in the middle of the night and when the SOLDIERs find out are in a panic and know they need to look for him, Sephiroth uses the tracker to follow Cloud which the others follow as well

When the monster thought she and Cloud are alone she shows her true self and goes into manipulation and feeding into the already horrible thoughts Cloud is already facing which are picked up when Sephiroth uses the tracker built in mic which is a great concern, Zack soon enough manages to get the thought of maybe Cloud was manipulated and tricked before by Hojo and Jenova [basically who they fought wasn't Cloud but the shell used as a puppet/doll for Jenova] as he states what he thinks might have happened they realize that Cloud is a victim and they are hit with guilt for not helping Cloud sooner

Cloud before he can be used again is when the SOLDIERs step in to protect Cloud and due to their fear they forgotten to show that they care and love Cloud deeply which they also apologize for this in turn causes Cloud to have another meltdown and him saying he doesn't deserve them which they shut that down quickly by saying he does deserve them and that they should have done something sooner about it which they take the tracker off Cloud and now allowed him to walk around the apartment and not just his room and the bathroom attached to it

The monster noticing this is angered and forcibly pushes them away when Cloud starts to get a small amount of hope back and traps Cloud against it which Cloud cries out for his boyfriends which they try to defeat the monster and get Cloud back

While the fight is going on C!Zack comes into the world after figuring out which dimension was causing such a strong saddened Cloud energy to run into the fight in which the four are trying to save Cloud which C!Zack tries to coax Cloud to come to him but it also causes the monster to even target C!Zack who immediately notices the monster keeping Cloud trapped and trying to feed him lies about the others which they deny and C!Zack is pissed and attacks the monster head on.

Overtime C!Zack manages to rescue Cloud but is not in the best of moods and promptly states that Cloud is coming with him to have some help coping with his trauma better which the other four saddened but understand though they do manage to ask C!Zack if they could meet with Cloud every now and then which C!Zack states [as he bandages Cloud] they could when Cloud is a bit more stable and if he wants to see them

Cloud is surprised by how C!Zack hugs him tightly and almost cries again which C!Zack notices quickly and tries to calm himself down which also meant he tries not to choke the poor Cloud and also gives Cloud comfort as well before taking Cloud for a vaycay

As time goes on Cloud does allow his boyfriends to come and hang out though with C!Zack now calmer has mentioned to said boyfriends that when they come visit they will do so when they get a week off work for vaycays themselves which thanks to SC!Cloud's invention they can communicate which helps to know said moments happen and they spend time with Cloud who starts to become like his normal happy self even before Hojo and Jenova's bs which shows through the pure laughs, snorts, and giggles that come from Cloud.

Okay this is long but I also wanted to practice an anime ish style for these and to flesh put a story idea that can be used if needed [I get severe writers block and when I try to write a story my brain just goes "what was I going to write again?"] So along with that and me needing to seriously practice writing again I'll be writing it by hand and when it comes down to it also sharing what I have here

@aimeelouart I keep making ideas that you can use in your stories if you so like I'm a-ok with you using the ideas I throw out here just wanted to let you know.

*please note that I haven't written a story since like 2016-17 and am completely rusty and will need plenty of pointers and constructive criticism as I can*

This is where I'll leave this off as I have to go shopping in like 4-5 hours from now and yes it is 3:45am and the store I'm going to opens at 9am so I'm gonna be running on 0% sleep as I shop so I'll probably not look at replies right away here.

Anyways enjoy the concept and the art.

[prismaticpichu]

Concept: experimental modified time materia brought out in sparring malfunctions somehow and now Zack and the Banora duo have a lil Sephling on their hands

LITTLE SEPH!!!!!! <333 Ahhhh this is glorious!!!

I would love to write this out some day dhdhdhd! I don’t have the full energy rn, but bc it’s such a phenomenal idea, I will try my best with one of my good ol’ fic/synopsis hybrids!

For a long while, everyone just stares, three mouths agape and three eyes struck with lightning. One minute they’re sparring, four swords going at it in at blazing speed. And the next—

“WHAT DID YOU DO, PUPPY?!” Genesis roars, whirling around to face the absolutetively befuddled Zack. See?This is why they don’t invite him to their TRAINING SESSIONS. The squirt was a walking heartbeat of destruction, pop songs, and comically large slip-ups. Nothing good ever happened when he was around.

“Don’t look at me!” Zack tries to defend himself. “All I did was cast Stop!”

Angeal gives a slow, incredulous blink, molasses on his lashes. “You stopped him alright.”

Meanwhile, at their feet, a 3yo Demon of Wutai cocks his head, sitting on his butt, his clothes and armor having conveniently shrunk to fit the size of his regression. Not Masamune though. That thing is abandoned on the floor, unaffected and forgotten.

“…Doc’ors?” Sephiroth blinks, his catlike eyes wide and round and sponging up most of the green in his eyes, his quicksilver hair gushing all the way down to his lap. Who are these people? They’re tall. And big. They aren’t wearing white coats either. One looks strong. One looks like he’s ready to explode. One of their heads’ looks like a mop.

Upon hearing him speak, hearing him squeak in his little Seph voice, Zack’s heart completely melts; all his bafflement and paranoia and most likely sense of reality is zapped away as he scoops up the little guy, raising him high in the air Simba-style.

“Ohhh look at you! You’re like a little doll! in ShinRa wear, Seph! Look at those eyes! Those pauldrons! Boop!”

Angeal and Genesis proceed to watch in deadlike silence as Zack boops the little guy’s nose, raising him up and down and up and down and upsy daisy and downsy daffodil. Seph is frozen at first, these gestures completely and utterly alien… but it’s not long before he’s clapping his hands and little giggles are bubbling from his throat. He likes mop head!

“Would you cut that out?!” Genesis roars suddenly—loud enough to startle the poor baby Seph, consequently causing him to start crying in the puppy’s arms. Zack’s face immediately hardens as he hugs Seph close, and now it’s his turn to whirl around in disapproval. Yeah, GENESIS.

“Hey! Be gentle with him!” Zack scolds, little Seph clutching at the fabric of his collar.

“That is Sephiroth, you nimrod! Do you not see the issue here?”

“The issue is that you’re scaring him!”

“He’s… SEPHIROTH.”

Angeal is wondering where the nearest retail shop is hiring.

~

After some intelligent discussion, baby Seph is brought back to Angeal’s place—just for the time being. And here’s where the fun starts! Everyone needs to chip in! Sephiroth is thirsty, first things first, having been plopped on the couch next to Zack. Zack is scrolling through the educational TV channels as Angeal fishes out a water bottle out from the fridge, walking it over—

“What’s that?”

Angeal stops in his tracks, blinking in surprise. “It’s water,” he explains—how is he supposed to talk to his friend? Like a preschool teacher? Like a therapist?

Seph’s confusion doesn’t fade. “Hojo always give me water in bowl.”

Zack pauses on Blue’s Clues.

…Excuse him?

Seph proceeds to explain that Hojo always gives him water—and, and food—in a little bowl that sounds suspiciously similar to a dog bowl. Angeal is dumbfounded, having to move Seph’s hands to hold the water bottle right while Genesis throws some untasty swears out there (covering his ears ofc). Zack, meanwhile, is floating somewhere between anger and an ache he can’t even pinpoint. All he knows is that he’s suddenly hugging Seph close, squishing his doll-sized leather jacket against his chest. That wasn’t cool, glasses man >:(

~

Following water break is play time! Zack whips out some crayons and paper to doodle with Seph while Angeal and Genesis prepare dinner—on a plate, thank you. Zack goes on to doodle some very nice pictures~ a giraffe, a river, a flamingo. He’s laughing and telling jokes with baby Seph, casually glancing over after a while to see—

“Uh, bud… what’s that?”

Seph doodled what can only be described as a pile of spaghetti—spaghetti that’s green, and has a face, and is dripping slime, and that has a bloody splotch for one of its eyes.

“I see her in dreams sometimes,” Seph says then, surprisingly blanched of emotion. “She visits me.”

Aight! Art time’s over!

~

“SEPHIROTH! GIVE ME BACK MY BOOK!”

No one could have predicted the Zoomies.

It was all going so smoothly…! Seph was pajama-ed, he had his teeth brushed, he was all snug and toasty and ready for bed—!

And he had Genesis’ favorite copy of Loveless. And zipping around the apartment at Mach 5 speed. And bouncing from furniture to furniture. And singing the Blue’s Clues song.

“C’mon, Seph…” Genesis finally corners him, bringing down his voice. “Give it back to your old buddy Genesis.”

“Okie!” Seph chirps, and proceeds to chuck the book with all his prodigious strength, hitting Genesis square in the nose. Bingo! He scored a touchdown!

“Nice shot!” Zack calls from across the room.

~

It’s bedtime! Angeal and Genesis collapse from exhaustion, Seph settled on the couch with a pillow and blankie. Zack takes an air mattress beside him, having even lent his favorite dragon plushie to the little bean to sleep. He loves it! All is well, the apartment falls silent, the craziness of the day and all its sci-fi stupidity fading away into a blessed oasis of peace.

Until the sobbing starts.

The sound is low, dim, stifled… a broken song that is being cracked between Sephiroth’s lips. Zack stirs immediately, shaking the little Seph awake and propping him up. Seph’s eyes are streaked with tears, glistening with beads of Mako-blue as Zack delicately gazes at him. His heart pretzels.

“What’s wrong, little bud…?”

Seph snivels, wiping his tears on Muffin the dragon. “I see her. She’s here. She says I should hurt you. Hurt two guys too.” His sobs break into something louder, splintering, and Zack can’t take it a moment longer; he settles himself on the couch and brings little Seph close, cocooning his arms around him, swaddling him, letting him cry into his chest. He doesn’t move, not an inch. Not even as Seph’s sobs slowly ebb and a faint snore replaces them.

Eventually, the warmth bubbled against him, breathing into him in calm, slow zephyrs, Zack closes his eyes and falls asleep.

~

Thankfully, in this case, time materia is temporary! Woooo! It’s very strange when Sephiroth wakes up in Zack’s arms, wearing onesie pajamas and holding a plushie. Very strange indeed.

“Oh…” Zack pulls back, coral flaring on his cheeks. “Hi Sephiroth!”

Sephiroth doesn’t say a word. He just glances down, absorbing the floofy sleepwear, his expression steely as a block of steel.

“Seph—“

“Don’t.” Sephiroth says, straightening, and steps over his sleeping best friends as he makes his way to the door.