#Final Fantasy VII Fanfic

[tunafishprincess]

Patricide is Harder than it Looks (LINK)

Cloud made a promise to Gaia, believing he would return to the past to stop Sephiroth from erasing Cloud’s existence. Unfortunately, things don’t go as planned. It didn’t help that the Goddess elected to solve the issue of his continued existence through the use of Sephiroth’s cells. Couldn’t she have made him a bit bigger at least?

When Sephiroth was called to an emergency in Hojo’s laboratory, he didn’t expect to find the Professor dead, nor was he expecting to walk out a father to a mysterious five-year-old boy. Nor was Shinra, for that matter. Nevertheless, he’ll adjust. He hopes.

Shinra’s SOLDIERs hadn’t expected to babysit Sephiroth’s new son, who may or may not be looking to commit patricide.

(AKA Gaia saw Sephiroth needing a family and yeeted Cloud at him like a son-shaped grenade.)

Updates Every Thursday

[bardic-tales]

Tumblr Games: Writing Share Tag

Thank you so much for the tags: @frostedlemonwriter and @glbettwrites. Your shares were awesome!

Rules: Share a piece of writing you're proud of.

I haven't written much over the last week, since my spoons have been really low. Holidays tend to take a lot out of my family now.

I have been working on a drabble or flash fiction. It doesn't have a title, yet. As always, this is a really rough draft. :)

"As a god," Sephiroth said, his voice was smooth like poisoned honey, "I can offer you something the Celestials or Devils cannot."

"Oh? What can you offer me that the divine can not?"

"Everything." He glided his hand down the smooth sloop of her throat, igniting goosed flesh to rise on her skin. She shivered. "Absolute power. Unlimited wealth. The submission of nations and empires. The Promised Land."

As he lowered himself to her height by bending towards her, his lips hovered close to hers. His breath fanned her cheek and lips, igniting fire within her belly that soon spread throughout her entire body: a burning need to join him on his crusade for revenge against those insects that call themselves human.

"But, most importantly," he whispered, "eternal devotion and unwavering loyalty. You are mine by right, Bia, and I will treat you like the queen you are meant to be."

Going to open this up to the Creators Club as a CC member tag game. Share your work you're proud of.

@megandaisy9 @watermeezer @littleshopofchaos

@kricketbee

@themaradwrites @pinkevilwriter

@serenofroses @asirensrage @aalinaaaaaa @goldenlilium-ocs @glbettwrites

@wyked-ao3 @badscientist @thebadphilosopher @andromedalestrange

@fantastictrashpolice @seastarblue @happypup-kitcat24 @chickensarentcheap @allaboutmagic

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@tales-from-nocturnaliss @pastelpinkhobbies @idonthaveapenname @the-bar-sinister @rosesonkittens

@bloodred2023 @kanobarlowe @aquixoticwrites @new-royston-cursebreakers

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@theglitchywriterboi @mayarab @memento-morianon @mrsmungus

@pebblesfromtheshore

[venusxblue]

Rating: E

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Pairing: Cid Highwind/Vincent Valentine

Tags: rough smut, switching, body worship, pwp

Summary:

Cid wonders to himself just how he wound up in bed with the most beautiful yet emotionally damaged man that he's ever met.

So I'm rusty and this is my first foray into this ship. I can only hope it turned out alright haha

[team5ds]

i can feel you all around me

Summary: she's not gone. she's still there. in the life stream.

Rating: T

Ships: Tifa Lockhart/Aerith Gainsborough

Author’s note: written for @sapphic-september with the prompt of "undead" and also partly for @millenniumpuzzle. hope i did your girls justice. aerith is technically dead in this but also in theory she isn't.

read on ao3 / support me on kofi (battle city & up supporters get early access) / join my discord (18+)

Tifa swore she'd been here before, but her mind was blanking on when. She felt too serene, but something was tamping her emotions down, leaving her unable to react. Her mind could sense something wrong, and yet whatever was impacting her made it difficult to care. The contradictions were annoying. She felt like she needed to rest, actually. Just let whatever was ensnaring her take her away. Aerith was here too, and so inviting. She was smiling, like nothing was wrong. "Tifa," she said, and oh, she liked the way Aerith said her name. "It's good to see you again."

Except... no. This wasn't right, was it? Her mind was sluggish, trying to figure out what was so wrong about this scenario. Aerith smiling at her was fine - she did that all time. It hit her just a little too late. "We're in the lifestream," Tifa said, immediately looking around. It'd been obvious - Mako surrounded them. How had it eluded her? Whatever the reason, Tifa didn't like it. "We need to get out of here."

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere," Aerith said with a laugh. "Don't you remember what happened?"

Her stomach lurched as it all came rushing back: Aerith had died. And yet here she was, standing in front of her, fully alive. The two realities didn't make sense. Tifa knew there was only one way any of this made sense, but it wasn't an option she was quite willing to accept. Still, she had to ask. "Am I... dreaming?"

Aerith tilted her head thoughtfully, and Tifa recognized that look. It was the "it's complicated" expression - one that she wore whenever she was trying to best think of a way to explain any given situation. "Well, you see, I think something happened when you also fell into the Mako," Aerith said, tapping her chin. She grinned, and laughed, shaking her head. "Then again, what do you think?"

"I think that..." Tifa paused, trying to piece together the information she had. She could smell flowers in the air - ones she didn't have names for. That wasn't something that happened when she dreamed. She reached to press her hand to Aerith's, and was shocked by the fact it felt fully solid. She could smell and feel here, so perhaps it wasn't entirely a dream. It couldn't be real, but it couldn't be just a dream. "We both fell into the Mako. Together." Aerith nodded, stepping closer. She could feel warmth radiating off her like she was still alive, and her stomach churned. "Am I... dead?"

"Don't think so," Aerith said, pressing a feather light kiss to her lips. The floral perfume ensnared Tifa for a moment, grinding all thoughts to a halt. She could catch a whiff of Aerith's shampoo, and her hair brushed against Tifa's shoulder. "Nope. Definitely still alive."

"But you're not," Tifa said, shaking her head. "I saw it happen. You died. I can't be here with you, and not dreaming. But... this isn't like any dream I've ever had. You're... I don't like this."

Aerith's eyes went wide, and she dropped Tifa's hand. She wished she could cram the words back into her mouth and have Aerith's hand back in hers again. It'd been too long since she'd gotten to hold her in her arms, and she was desperate for her touch. It didn't matter what the truth was if she could stay here with Aerith. "Don't you dare think about that," she scolded. Tifa looked back up at Aerith, stunned at the reaction. She seemed genuinely upset by something. "You can't stay here. You have to go at some point, you know."

"So this place is real then," she countered, her eyes wide. If this place was real, then she had to stay here with Aerith. There was no point in going back if it meant she could be with the love she'd lost too young. She made an accusatory point to Aerith as she said, "You know where we are, and you're not telling me. Why won't you tell me where we are?"

"As I just said: you can't stay here. Technically... you're not even supposed to be here," she said softly, before giving a big smile. The same big smile she gave whenever she was really upset about something but trying to be brave. "I have things to do here. You have things to do before you can come back here. Tell Cloud to not be so miserable all the time for me, okay? And tell Zack... tell Zack I'm sorry I couldn't meet up with him."

It was too late that Tifa realized where they were, and that her time here was running out. She could hear her name being called by a frightened Cloud, even if she couldn't see him. Tifa rushed forward to give Aerith one last desperate kiss - one last kiss to last a lifetime - as she woke up to stare into a pair of Mako colored eyes that were not Cloud's. "Aerith wanted to tell you she's sorry."

[kaonarvna]

An Insecure Line

(written by kaonarvna)

This fanfiction short story contains the characters: Zack Fair; Sephiroth; Genesis Rhapsodos; Angeal Hewley.

Summary: Following the mass desertion that went with Rhapsodos, everyone in SOLDIER has been stretched too thin for Zack to be trained on his non-combat responsibilities as FIRST. When asked by a THIRD for training support, not knowing what to do, he goes upstairs to the 51st to ask Lazard for guidance. He finds Sephiroth there instead, glued to his PHS in one of his "moods".

There are no explicit ships intended, or shipping terms in use (though I'd call it sephesis-coded). There are no content warnings that I can think of that may apply here. This fic is the result of this poll, which I put up last month. This could be considered "hurt/no comfort", "light angst", or "emotional angst". It's been about five years since I've written fanfiction, so if there are any posting/tagging conventions I'm missing, don't hesitate to get in touch!

Excerpt below the cut! The full piece is easily accessible by the AO3 link.

An Insecure Line (Zack ; Sephiroth ; Genesis ; Angeal)

Brittle bird-bones crack and split as the tip of a standard-issue SOLDIER’s blade twists into the final staggered needlekiss’ fragile skull. Its screeches of disquiet cease, as do the struggling half-beats of wings pinned beneath heavy boots. He twists—as his father once showed him to do with fresh-caught fish—until every quivering reflex stops. The brain froths, scrambled beyond recognition inside its cracked open bone shell. It’s the quickest way, the most humane way, Zack thinks—the faster the better. Making sure every part of a dying creature is gone is the most compassionate way. Empathy for the fish, empathy for the beast that spears man and fish to feed itself, honour for the SOLDIER.

“Another one down���!” he laughs to himself, pulling his blade free and wiping off the perceived filth. The monster’s gore dissolves into the air, as does the warm Western Continent sun, the great trees that filtered its evening light into dancing crescents on the faux forest floor. It disappears procedurally—first the target, then the environmental hazards, the skybox, the light itself—a too-pleasant victory jingle returns the party to reality. Another simulation completed. Zack stands in that blue-grey room with the half-dozen perspiring SOLDIER in his company. They all smell of worn leather, droplets of sweat glistening in the overbearing fluorescent lights.

Thick black wool wicks away the beads of sweat dripping down from Fair’s hairline and underarms. “That was a good one!” He exclaims, laughing as he looks among his subordinates, stretching his arms up into the air and breathing without tension. Breathing, without worry for the too-real creatures poised to kill. The SECONDs, the THIRDs, they too ease, sighing and chattering amongst themselves. In a moment, the exercise’s outcomes project onto the wall, ranking SOLDIER beside SOLDIER for performance: harm dealt, harm received, weapon used, rank, improvement from the previous instance should they have run the sim before.

Zack is on top—FIRST, the only one in the room, surrounded by no-longer-peers and friends that have become inferiors. It’s strange. It shouldn’t be different, he thinks, but it is. It has only been a few weeks since the bittersweet promotion and the change is all too tangible. Yet, he stands just as everyone else does, watching the exercise information light up in the projection. He smiles at others’ progress and his own alike.

After pleasant congratulations and the one-armed hugs and shoulder-pats a good man exchanges with comrades, he steps out of the training facility into the forty-ninth’s open corridors. That corporate air conditioning hits his sticky skin with a revitalising chill, and he lingers, re-orienting himself.

“Hey—Zack?” A familiar voice peeps from behind, having caught the sim door before it closed. “Do you have two seconds?” The boy takes off his helmet—he recognises him, a THIRD, young and new.

Zack knows that he should know his name. It escapes him. “Yeah! Yeah? What’s up?” Turning to face the boy, he wipes the stickiness from his brow, though only smears it. He hardly notices. Leather gloves are not the most absorbent.

“I know you’ve only just got the promotion—and congrats, man! Sir! Really—” he begins, tucking that helmet between his arm and torso. “But—do you think you could put together a training regimen for me? Sorry if it’s inappropriate to ask—Genesis usually oversaw my cohort, and I haven’t had a chance to talk to Deusericus about it, and—” the words spill out of his mouth one after another, between half-exhausted breaths. Zack wonders how he might have fared against real and less predictable beasts.

“No no! It’s cool, it’s cool, don’t apologise,” Zack laughs, popping a hand on the boy’s padded shoulder. He’s probably the same age as when Zack started out, he thinks. “I’m flattered! And ah—don’t call me ‘sir’, I’ll...I don’t know how that’s supposed to go—”

“That’s okay, that’s okay! Sorry if it’s a bad time, sir—Zack—I know everyone’s spread thin because, you know, and now you’re FIRST now that there’s, well—"

It stings, connecting the recent waves of desertion to his promotion, but Zack keeps smiling. “I’ll talk to Lazard and see what I can do! Don’t worry about it, it’s cool—” he reassures, watching as the other bodies begin exiting the training room. They exude a mix of pride and complaints, as always. The swarm wanders towards the showers, that click-click of strap buckles getting undone just as loud as their footsteps and laughter. The THIRD glances over his shoulder at them, and Zack nods in their direction. “I’ll take care of it.”

Smiling wearily, the kid thanks him before turning to join his peers, half-jogging a few steps and calling out before being absorbed into their bubble. Fair lets out a held breath, decompressing, watching them go. He pulls out his PHS—19:30. That was the last training run of the day. “He’s usually still here...” he mutters to himself, “Might be able to catch him.”

The lift always takes too long, and the cool stairwell air is a treat after a full day training inside. He takes the steps three at a time, despite the weakness in his quads. Legs are important, he reminds himself, he can never skip an opportunity to work legs.

Emerging on the fifty-first after scanning his keycard, the space is black, lit only by the faint green glow of the emergency exit lamps. It’s lifeless. Zack waves with both arms towards the ceiling, waiting for the automatic lights to flicker on. With a chirp and a whine, they slowly warm. The floor has always felt too sparse for its own good—the few comfy chairs; extra-long sofas for lounging away from the rest of SOLDIER; the small library with Genesis’ work still scattered across the tables and couch in a “productive mess” he’s not allowed to touch; the couple of pristine PCs set aside for admin work; and Lazard’s office. “Please be in, please be in...” he begs aloud, speed walking towards those heavy doors.

He knocks. Silence.

He knocks again. Silence.

The door gives when he nudges it forward.

Pushing them open, he’s not surprised to see the big lights are off. The golden glow from the director’s plant-lights illuminates the shuttered window blinds, the desk, and the comfy chair that often gets dragged between the workstation and desk. It all confirms that the director is out. Not even the display screen on the wall or the green lights lining the floor are on.

“That’s okay!” he quietly reassures himself, “I’ll try again tomorrow, and—” Zack pivots to leave, before spotting a pair of green dots peering at him from a shadow obscuring the overgrown palm beside the wall. The way it gleans, the same way a cat’s does when you catch it in a dark alley—he knows it well. “Oh! Hey—!” he joins Sephiroth in the room. Lights flicker on once he steps beyond the threshold. “How long have you been in here? In the dark?”

Sephiroth says nothing, raising a gloved finger to his lips, shushing. His other hands pins the PHS to his face, obscuring almost all of its light.

(read the rest here!)

[seven-n-wolf]

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII (Compilation of)

Relationship: Vincent Valentine / Sephiroth, Vincent Valentine / The Turks / Rufus Shinra

AU: canon divergence

Summary:

Vincent wakes up nearly thirty years after being locked up in a coffin by Hojo and Lucrecia to find that they’re both dead and Sephiroth, against all odds, is alive and well—or as well as a genetic experiment can be. After a bit of coercion and emotional blackmail from Rufus and Veld, Vincent decides to rejoin the Turks as Head of the Department. Things go rather well until Vincent starts getting hot flashes and, almost at the same time, Sephiroth approaches him with a desire to be friends.

[bylightofdawn]

I'm apparently in a fic sharing mood today so have another snippet. These two fools go from this silliness to 100% angst level in like .02 seconds flat. Read at your own risk.

“Rufus, no. Stop.” He said hoarsely and gently pushed the blond away. Because he didn’t trust himself to keep his hands on the other man, he withdrew them reluctantly.

The blond offered him a look filled with confused frustration.

“We can’t do this.”

“I assure you, we most certainly can.” Rufus countered silkily.

“Fine, we shouldn’t do this.”

The frustration had melted into irritation, but Rufus at least leaned back into his wheelchair. “So help me Reeve, if you tell me you can’t fuck me because I am dying, I might get out of this chair and strangle you.”

His threat lacked any real conviction and by now, Reeve felt like he knew Rufus well enough to tell when he was being serious or not.

“I think it might be a little too early to be discussing introducing kink into the mix.”

“Shiva’s tits, I’ve changed my mind.” Rufus laughed and hid his face in one hand as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “You drive me absolutely insane, do you know that?”

“You’re pretty good at that yourself. But seriously? This isn’t the time or place, we’re in a hospital for Gaia’s sake.”

“That is easily rectified with a shift in locations. I have my own private cabin for a reason.”

“-and as much as you don’t want to admit it, you are sick. I don’t want to accidentally make things worse for you. Even ignoring the fact I might not be up for it either, considering my recent brush with death.” Reeve pointed out and ignored the narrow-eyed look that Rufus shot his way.

The older man grew more serious and he pinned him with a somber look.

“There are also the ethical concerns to think about, I might not work for you anymore but can you imagine what would happen if it got out that not only were you quietly funding the WRO but we were lovers as well?”

“Mighty arrogant of you to assume we would be lovers, Tuesti.” Rufus was beginning to feel defensive, and it was easier to lash out than to examine his own emotional vulnerabilities too closely.

Judging by the way Reeve’s expression cooled, his barb had landed true and stung.

“Is that what this is, then? One last pity fuck before you die? Am I just the most convenient warm body you can find?” He challenged brutally, his voice as cold as the ice fields of the Northern Crater.

For the briefest of moments, Rufus’s mask slipped and some of that vulnerability shown on his face. “Reeve…”

“A man with your means could surely afford to hire a professional if that was the case.”

“Just stop, you made your point. I was being unkind.”

“That wasn’t unkind, Rufus, that was cruel. And I’ve suffered enough cruelty to last me two lifetimes." Reeve cleared his throat and climbed to his feet. "This was a mistake, I think you should leave now."

"Reeve, don't do this, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry as well, Rufus. But I would still like you to leave."

[tuliharja]

Fanikanta: Final Fantasy

Luokitus: Sopii kaikille

Genre: Yleinen

Luvut: 1/1

Tiivistelmä: Hyvin lyhyt ficci siitä, kun Vincent herätetään taas pitkästä aikaa uniltaan. Tällä kertaa herättäjä ei kuitenkaan ole Cloud…

Huomautus: Tämä ficci löytyy myös fanfiction.net:stä samalla nimellä.

[bardic-tales]

From Chapter 1 of Blood and Stardust. I'm trying a different way of starting a book by just jumping right into action.

“Keep moving,” Bianca hissed through clenched teeth, though her voice cracked under the weight of her grief. Her determination burned with the remnants of her fading strength. She wouldn’t die here: not where her father’s shadow and the final battle still lingered, not where she would be just another corpse among the ruins. The first portal shimmered into view as she reached the summit of the steps, an iridescent oval of light pulsating with chaotic energy. Its surface rippled like liquid mercury, as fragments of an unknown dystopian world with significant environmental degradation reflected on the rift’s surface before vanishing into nothingness.

Xena’s Share Day

this one’s for me :) do me a favor, open up your document, search for the word “teeth” and post whatever you find here !! anything to do with teeth. indulge a bitey creature like me :)

[prokopetz]

"Sephiroth doing paperwork" gets treated like a funny meme about the peculiar fixations of fanfic writers, but if you think about it, the guy's job – at least pre-losing-his-shit – is to somehow be a corporate middle manager and a cop at the exact same time, both professions which are notable for the unbelievable quantities of bullshit paperwork they generate. He would absolutely be filling out Form 27-B.

[mrcatlion]

I have been consuming Zack Lives AUs and would like to offer the headcannon: Zack keeps a habit of taking initiative for transporting Cloud to places even after Cloud wakes up. Usually grabbing and leading Cloud places, but sometimes ends up with Zack full on hoisting Cloud over his shoulder and starts walking.

[bardic-tales]

Tumblr Games: Heads up, 7 up

Thank you so much for the tag, @writingamongther0ses

Rules: Share 7 lines from your WIP.

This is from a rewrite of a flash fiction that I am writing. Bianca and Sephiroth will be snowed in. No hot chocolate, though. It's a little bit more than 7 sentences.

The jagged walls surrounding the black crater curved inward as shelter against the outside world. Shadows stretched down upon her concealing her and her companion in darkness. From above, from the colossal, impenetrable barrier encasing the entire impact site, the glint of several weapons stood silent over a battlefield lost to the annuals of time in this god-forsaken hole.

Her sole companion shambled next to her and trudged through the snow which came up to the middle of his calf as his mouth hung open loosely in a perpetual state of confusion. Black robes hung off of his lanky form, as the fabric dragged on the snow behind them, leaving a faint path along with their footprints. The tattered cloth flapped in the acrid wind, molding to his body, while the sudden gale threatened to rip his hood off of his head and whipped his long, midnight-colored hair against his gaunt cheeks.

“Rest,” the man, a Sephiroth clone by the name of SC-X, muttered, as he continued to shuffled behind her and only responded to her safety and comfort.

[. . .]

The ebony feather danced across her shoulder and arm, swaying end over end until it fell to the snowy ground before them, signaling the arrival of him — her godlike lover — and the temporary loss of SC-X’s autonomy.

Tagging the Creators' Club for CC activities.

@megandaisy9 @watermeezer @littleshopofchaos

@nightingaleflowlibrary @kricketbee

@themaradwrites @pinkevilwriter

@serenofroses @asirensrage @aalinaaaaaa @goldenlilium-ocs @glbettwrites

@wyked-ao3 @badscientist @thebadphilosopher @andromedalestrange

@fantastictrashpolice @seastarblue @happypup-kitcat24 @chickensarentcheap @allaboutmagic

@ryns-ramblings @kathaliabloodyrose @riemmetric @andromedaexists @kckramer

@tales-from-nocturnaliss @pastelpinkhobbies @idonthaveapenname @the-bar-sinister @rosesonkittens

@bloodred2023 @kanobarlowe @aquixoticwrites @new-royston-cursebreakers

@rosemirmir @salmonandfox @fablesandfragments @paganmindidnothingwrong @elshells

@viscerawrites @ellowynthenotking

As well as, @prehistoric-creatures and @creativechaosqueen for Bianca Moore content.

[tunafishprincess]

Patricide is Harder than it Looks Comic

Big thank you to @thefruitloop-chan for doing this wonderful comic commish for my fanfic “Patricide is Harder than it Looks! Check out Squid’s art and comics they’re amazing. Link to fic is in the reblog.

[lime-sketches114]

Hello I would like to request something. How eould Sephiroth act when he has a crush on someone? Idc if it's post-Nibelheim or while he's still a Soldier. I leave that up to you. Thank you so much if you do this and have a wonderful day :3

Great question Le Anonymous! This is similar to what I thought for my Ravenroth ship (maybe?) BUT this topic is cute nonetheless. I might just do both ideas! Hope you like these headcanons!

SEPHIROTH CRUSH HEADCANONS

PRE-NIBELHEIM

Sephiroth as a SOLDIER he never really had romantic feelings, even as a teenager. Once he became more of an adult that's when his tables turned.

He would get flustered when Genesis or Angeal made a joke about the person Sephiroth liked. But he hid it well but you could see pink dust on his cheeks. He'd get confused about butterflies in his stomach and why they were there.

As he explores his feelings more, he tries to be braver around his special someone. When he eventually asked them on a date on his free time he was happy. He shined that shy smile of his. He took them to a fancy restaurant and bought them flowers or a little gift for a start. He's a good listener and would mostly let his date take charge of small talk if they were brave, if not he would.

He might take them on a walk or shopping on the next few dates. He has a lot of money to burn! As the relationship progressed he'd eventually confess his attraction. He's still new to all this lovey dovey crap so it'll be a slow start but with the help of his partner he would be just fine and even start to be very romantic on occasion.

Genesis and Angeal would absolutely still tease him about his romantic efforts and Genesis would try and coach him to the behest of Sephiroth's will. Angeal would just tell Sephiroth to be himself and be more gentleman-like and uphold honor in his word. He loves his friends' efforts but he's already had Genesis talk his ear off about Loveless references...Angeal is more tolerable.

Yes Zack would absolutely have his jaw hit the dang floor about hearing about ALL of this and how Sephiroth has a partner. Zack just can't help not hiding his puppy-like wonder.

Sephiroth talks about his mother a lot with their partner. If his partner was willing to research more about if his mother was truly dead or not AND found the truth then you bet your bottom gil he would try and find his real mother and bring justice to Hojo.

POST-NIBELHEIM

Good lawd where to start....

Ok! With Sephiroth off his rocker bc of everything that's happened. Things would be different and difficult to comprehend.

If Sephiroth still had his partner before he went bonkers he would ABSOLUTELY try and keep them with him at all costs. He still loves them but it's slowly creeping into bad territory. If he did not have a partner beforehand he would kinda stalk them like he does Cloud. Leave flowers and candy and whatever else on their doorstep. Then it turns into jewelry or expensive items. Then himself out of the blue.

It creeps the partner out but the love is still there. His good looks and charm works wonders. They try and figure out what went wrong with him. Maybe they try and reverse what happened if they're more than just a normal person. Magic can only go so far.

If their efforts are fruitful then he slowly reverses back to his old self just a bit but can't quite shake off Jenova unless someone destroys her. He also finds out about his real mother. He would search for her with them.

If it was in vain then he would be angered fairly easily. Trying to turn them into more like him or be more loyal or obey him. Regardless if he still had love in his heart.

Sometimes at night, you can hear cries...but from who is up to the mind's desire...

[several-terrible-decisions]

Lucrecia tries.

Alive, she decides, just. Relief comes tremulously, and it doesn’t last; his chest does not rise or fall in a telltale rhythm of breathing, and he doesn’t stir. What state is this in which he exists? Has he brushed with death’s quiet embrace, only to be pulled backward into some grey inbetween? What could have kept his body from seeking the comfort of nothingness, after enduring such horror?

Read the rest of Here before and after me on AO3

*

Honestly? This just happened. I don't think I've ever sketched Lucrecia before, but it was a joy.

[yinza]

"...it can't be escaped."

Little sketch for my fic "A Birthday for Nanaki."

[Image Description: A colored digital sketch of Nanaki and Vincent. Nanaki is sitting on his haunches, eye closed in resignation as Vincent places a paper crown atop his head. /end ID]