#aerith's face is haunting

[priceofreedom]

Painful memories

[tehrevving]

Just found out it’s Vincent’s Birthday today so I smashed this out quickly. Enjoy!

Vincent Valentine x Neutral!Reader. Birthday Blowjob

You’re on the Bronco, preparing for another long journey when Cait Sith jumps up in the centre and declares, loudly and surprisingly clearly considering his penchant for using incomprehensible regional slang, that today is Vincent’s birthday.

You turn to the aforementioned man, sitting next to you, noticing that he immediately sinks almost completely into his cloak. So it is true then. You stay quiet, knowing that he hates being the centre of attention, and allow everyone else to congratulate him. Barret slaps him on the back and you can see that Vincent is considering jumping out of the plane. Aerith, Nanaki and Tifa start loudly planning a party for later in the day. You can see how uncomfortable he is, sinking further into himself with every enthusiastic suggestion. You reach out and take his hand, running your fingers gently over gloved knuckles in an attempt to reassure him. He looks at you softly, almost relieved that you’re not joining in. You’ll congratulate him later, but for now you sit quietly with him, listening to the commotion, while trying to think of something you can get for a present with such short notice.

Aerith has set up a small party in the boys room at the inn, her idea being that eventually Vincent would appear to sleep, even if it took all night. It’s just some snacks and two cakes with a single blue banner stating “It’s a boy!” because she couldn’t find anything that said happy birthday at the tiny nearby corner store. The entire group mills around awkwardly, enjoying the excuse for celebration, but honestly, more enjoying the excessive amount of wine.

“You need to go find him,” Aerith pleads, your hands clasped in her own. “If he doesn’t show up, then all of this is for nothing.”

“I won’t be able to find him if he doesn’t want to be found,” you state, finishing off your second glass of wine. You need it to deal with all of the suggestive and expectant stares levelled in your direction.

“What if we pretend you’ve been injured?” Aerith ponders. “I’m sure Tifa could gently beat you up.”

“How about no,” you reply, toying with your empty glass.

Aerith claps her hands suddenly, face bright. “Yuffie could make a doppelganger of you, and then we could beat up the doppelganger.”

You shake your head and hand her your glass with a sigh. “Alright. Fine. I’ll go look for him.”

Aerith pumps her fist in the air as you turn and walk out of the room. You pause outside the door for a moment, wondering where to start your search. You’re sure he’s not hiding too far away. You decide to check that roof first, that’s usually where he hides, and usually where he takes you to get some time alone. You’ll talk to him, see how he feels about everything and try to convince him to make an appearance.

You climb the stairs up to the highest floor of the inn and then swing through the emergency door leading up to the roof. You step out into the cool night air, this town is small and not too lit up, so there are lots of stars visible in the sky. The water tanks are up on the roof, so there’s many places to hide. You can’t immediately spot Vincent so you go searching, you know his typical favourite haunts.

You round a corner and finally see a hint, a small flutter of red fabric. You lean around the water tank and see him, sitting leant against one of the roof supports, legs dangling over the edge.

“Found you,” you giggle, walking up to him. Vincent turns his head back and inclines his head slightly, inviting you to sit next to him. You sit down, leaving a reasonable amount of space between you, more than you’d usually leave. He’s likely to be emotionally volatile and you don’t want to spook him. He turns to you as you sit down, face hidden and almost unreadable. You kick your legs over the abyss. “You would have hidden better if you didn’t want to be found.”

He hums noncommittally, but now you know he’s not actually trying to hide, that he’s willing to have his mind changed.

“They just want an excuse to celebrate, you know? It’s not specifically about you, even if Aerith insists.”

“I am not the type for parties,” he shrugs.

“I know that’s not it,” you reply. “It’s not that it’s a party, or that it’s specifically for you. There’s something else, isn’t there?”

He turns, expression tight. You've hit the nail on the head. You don’t know that much about his past or about what’s happened to him, but you know that he hates talking about it, hates even thinking about it.

“How old do you think I am?” he asks, hiding an emotion in his voice that you can’t quite place.

You hum exaggeratedly, pretending to seriously ponder the question. You honestly have no idea but by now you’re pretty sure that he’s older than you think. “Mid thirties?”

He gives a sad smile. “Today, I am 57.”

You can’t stop your jaw from hitting the floor. You know that his physiology is strange, that he was experimented on, that he doesn’t need to eat or breathe, but you didn’t realise he had stopped ageing, not like that. He can’t be that old, it makes no sense. But then you think about it. He had worked with Hojo in the Shinra manor, you’d just assumed that hadn’t been that long ago, but the manor is old, and Hojo had looked younger in all of those holograms.

“A birthday is pointless when you don’t age,” he says, sounding sad, not necessarily upset, but forlorn, uncertain. If you let him he’ll just end up brooding endlessly and you don’t want that. You want to try to cheer him up, even if it seems pointless.

“Well then it’s a good thing I didn’t get you anything,” you reply cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood.

He turns to look at you, a hint of surprise on his face, he wasn’t expecting your reaction.

You say the date of your birthday and he cocks his head at you. “My birthday,” you add. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you.” You say the age you’re turning too, just so there’s no secrets between you both.

He smiles. “I won’t forget that.”

You nod, grinning. “I know. I expect an awesome gift.”

“Surely just my presence should be enough,” he teases.

You smile, glad that you’ve managed to cheer him up, not quite enough to come to the party though, so you decide to initiate the next phase of your plan. “I know I said I didn’t get you anything, but I do still have a present for you.”

You watch as his face falls slightly, confusion and uncertainty crossing his features. You sit up quickly, looking around the roof and finding a short ventilation duct, that will do. You don’t want to leave him for too long, you don’t want him to get lost in his own head again. You reach out your hand. “Stand up.”

He pauses for a moment but then stands, not taking your hand. You know that he trusts you, but you’re still often blown away by just how much. You wrap yourself around his arm and lead him to the duct. “Sit,” you order and he does, looking extremely confused. You gently pull his knees apart, stepping in between them. You’re slightly taller than him like this and it’s fun, as you pull his cowl down slightly and lean down to kiss him. He returns the gesture, lips soft and warm.

You pull away with a smirk. You can tell from his expression that he’s worked out what’s going on. You silently sink to your knees, resting your hands on his thighs while you pause for a moment, waiting for permission.

He doesn’t tell you no, doesn’t tell you to stop. He stays quiet as your hands slide up his thighs, brushing over his crotch. He lets out a shuddering breath and you grin, hands moving up to his hips, to the belt holding his pants up.

You slowly undo his belt, pulling the leather tight before releasing it. The clicking of metal sounds almost deafening in the silence of the night, but you don’t care. You slowly slide his fly down, watching as his cock, still covered and semi-hard, begins to poke out from the parted fabric. You lick across the head of it, wetting the dark fabric of his underwear. He groans softly.

You hold the waistband of his underwear, pulling it lower slowly, somewhat attempting to unwrap him like a present. You hook the fabric underneath the base of his cock, almost fully hard now and starting to leak at the tip. You look up at him. He’s watching you intently, breathing elevated and eyes blown with desire. You smirk up at him and then lean forward to press your tongue to his tip while making eye contact. You feel him shudder.

You reach out and wrap your fingers around his shaft, pumping a few times to spread your saliva around heated skin. You tilt your hand closer, angling him towards your mouth. You lean forward to take him, but you’re hit with a sudden horrifying realisation.

“Holy shit I’m fucking a senior citizen,” you exclaim, momentarily distracted.

Vincent grunts, clearly unimpressed.

“An umm, hot senior citizen,” you hastily correct, taking him quickly all the way down your throat so that he can’t retort.

Vincent moans, a deep, throaty thing as you sink down on his cock. You bob your head up and down, covering his shaft with saliva as you slowly get used to the thickness on your tongue. His cock is long, delicious and makes your jaw ache in the absolute best way. He groans, metal shifting as he digs his fingers into his thigh as your nose brushes against the dark curls at his base. You swallow a few times, hollowing your cheeks and making him forget all about your previous comment.

You fall into an easy rhythm, he’s easy to pleasure and so very sensitive. You wrap your hand around his base, fingers moving gently as you slide the rest of his shaft between your lips. You rest your other hand on his thigh for support, feeling it tense and shake. He’s trying to be quiet but struggling, soft gasps and deep groans escaping from his throat. You sink back down, humming, feeling his hips buck gently up into you. You feel warmed up and ready for the next step.

You pull off him and Vincent whines, clearly missing your touch. You smile, you’re not going to leave him hanging for long. You reach out and take his hand from his thigh. He allows it, leather shifting as you bring it to the back of your head. “Because this is for your birthday,” you grin. “You can control the pace.”

He looks confused, overwhelmed and unsure, but his fingers tighten in your hair all the same. You go slowly, relaxing into his touch. The pressure on the back of your head increases ever so slightly and you carefully slide your lips down his cock, easing him into being in control. You bob your head with his tentative movements, sucking and licking until he grows more confident. You’re not going to break and you know that he knows that, deep down anyway.

His fingers grow more certain, the pressure still gentle but much firmer as he pushes your head up and down his cock. You tease him as much as you can, hollowing your cheeks as he pulls upwards and sliding your tongue across him when he pushes down. You squeeze reassuringly at his thigh, trying to tell him that you’re fine, that you’re enjoying yourself, that he can go harder if he wants.

He pushes your head down, gloved fingers tangling in your hair, but doesn’t pull back, sliding your lips down his cock until you’re pressed to the base. He cuts off your air but you don’t mind, moving your tongue and trying to swallow around his thick head. You feel him moan, feel his hips buck up as he tries to push just a little bit further into you. You start to choke but you push the feeling down, relaxing into him until he pulls your head back up with a shuddering breath.

He pulls your head all the way back up, tightening slightly on your hair to angle you to face him. He looks down at you, bottom lip swollen and bitten, pupils blown dark with the slightest hazy glowing ring. You nod at him, letting him know that you’re okay, that he doesn’t need to check in with you. You press a quick kiss to the head of his cock and then take him back between your lips, moving slowly until he takes over once again.

You can tell he’s getting close, his cock beginning to jump between your lips as sticky salt coats the back of your throat. His breath is hitching, small gasps and whines hitting your ears. His hips are bucking gently, pressing up into you in a soft but barely controlled rhythm. You’re addicted to the sounds that he makes, to how his body responds to you. His hand on your head is less controlled, rougher. You adore it.

You work harder, you want to make him come. You want to feel him spill down your throat. You want to hear his muffled, desperate moans and soft begging. You can feel the moment he loses control, heat suddenly flaring around him. That’s when you pull back, pushing firmly against his hand on your head until he relents.

He allows you up, looking down at you with a lost, pathetic expression. He’s breathing heavily, almost panting. You watch his cock, swollen dark, pulse in the bottom of your vision. You grin up at him, mischief clear in your eyes. “Promise to come to the party.”

You watch expressions play over his face, watch his brain struggle to understand your words. You feel a little bit bad, he gets so overwhelmed when he’s close, this is a mean thing to do.

“Anything you want,” he moans, voice breathy. “Anything. Please. Please. I need you.”

You smile up at him and then sink back down. You pick up a firm, intense rhythm. You know what he likes, what he can’t resist. His fingers tighten in your hair as his hips start to buck up into you, trying to push as much of himself as he can between your lips. You hum, encouraging him and he whimpers. He says your name softly through gritted teeth, the tone of it fucking addicting. His whole body tenses, thighs shuddering and breath catching as he comes down your throat.

You swallow, moving your head and tongue, drawing out his pleasure as his fingers pull tight at your hair but don’t control your pace any longer. His orgasms are always so intense and you guide him through it, barely even tasting his release as you take him as deep as you can. Eventually he pulls you back with a shuddering whine and lewd pop as his cock slips from your lips. He looks down at you, expression sated, eyes full of adoration.

You start to tuck him back into his pants, enjoying the way that he hisses with overstimulation. He’s too much fun to tease. You stand up, knees and jaw protesting, but you can manage. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday,” you whisper.

He turns his head, expression so relaxed and loose. It’s a rare look for him and honestly you can never get enough of it. He smiles at you, looking right into your eyes. You notice the exact moment that his expression shifts.

“That was a dirty trick,” he says, still slightly out of breath, voice rough.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug. “I also would have kept going if you’d said no.”

His brows furrow while he thinks back to your words. You can’t help but smile when he realises that he’s trapped.

“You can have a few minutes to pull yourself together,” you grin, “but then we have to go. I want cake and I’m worried that Cid will eat all of it.”

Vincent sighs and you stop joking, for just a second anyway.

“I know Vin, I know.” You reassure him. “It’s honestly just a small thing. Everyone’s probably too drunk by now to remember it’s your birthday. I’ll stand next to you the whole time, even hold your hand if you want. They’re your friends and they just want to spend time with you.”

He leans his head on your shoulder and exhales a shaky breath. You press your cheek to his hair and wait for him.

“Alright,” he says eventually, standing up, long legs trembling slightly as he struggles to balance. “But only because you would never forgive me if you missed out on cake.”

[tiny-cloud-dragon]

Ok, we all love a good AU where Zack and Aerith don't die, right? They all live happily ever after, going on new adventures, etc. But let me just suggest Ghost!Zack and Ghost!Aerth haunting Cloud for the rest of his life? Oh, but not sad/scary haunting. No. I mean, let's prank and annoy Cloud for the rest of his life! Cloud and Tifa are just living peacefully at 7th Heaven, and then weird stuff starts happening. Lights flickering, but only when Cloud is trying to sleep. Cloud getting locked in the bathroom because the door mysteriously gets stuck. He's taking a shower and the water goes ice cold. Cabinet door open, gently whacking Cloud. Food falls (flies) off his fork, or his fork just flies out of his hand, the coffee table scoots out justvenough to catch his shins, doirs refuse to stay closed... all harmless, and extremely annoying stuff. Maybe, after a while, Cloud is able to see Zack and Aerith messing with him and Tifa. Maybe he can hear them too. They can be very distracting when he trying to talk to someone. Offering unhelpful advice, making jokes and comments, etc. Cloud can be trying to eat, or work on something, and Tifa will see him, get distracted, make a face, or huff in quiet frustration, or hiss "Stop it!", and she's a little worried at first, but then he tells Tifa what's happening, and she 100% believes him because it's exactly what Aerith and Zack would do. Plus, they have been messing with her too. It's just Ghost shenanigans all day every day.

[heraldofcrow]

how about 7 and... 8... for them...

THE 8 BALLS AKDJD

8, please…I’m so sorry for the wait, this was RIDICULOUS OF ME AND I SHOULD BE SHOT BY THE FIRING SQUAD!

But first let me answer 7 and 8 for each of these blorbos

~

Aerith

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

A little bit. Only because she’s around my own age and I really love characters in their 20s these days instead of teen characters, if we’re talking about younger demographics only. Yeah, it’s probably because I’m in my dreaded 20s and I am relating to my peers in media, but for Aerith specifically, I like how she’s a perfect cross between strong maturity and a goofy, childlike spirit. She matches her age well.

It also matters because her death is twice as tragic when we know she had her whole life ahead of her and was only just starting to figure it out :(

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

I have to admit, yes. Very much. I love Aerith’s design so much. Her hair (her bangs!!!) and eyes just scream EARTH and a daughter of earth. The vivid green and soft brown. She’s like a wood nymph.

And then her clothes, with the pink and red + flower necklace…I dunno, she has both a classic girly look but mixed with some cool style. Flowery with an edge, just like her. To me that all matches with her character, so it does matter to me!

~

Cloud

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

I think Cloud’s age is important because 21 was widely considered the age of maturity/adulthood in parts of the world, and Cloud’s entire story in FF7 is finding himself, his real identity, and coming into that state of maturity and individuality after a period of uncertainty and fracture. I think there’s a symbolic significance to that, so his age does matter in that sense.

He’s also just a relatable af twenty-something-year-old.

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

Hmm. With Cloud, I definitely like his classic spiked hair lol. And his design is iconic, of course. He’s our amgery chocobo swordsman.

Other than his basic looks, I love the buster sword on him because it gives him the Guts/Berserk vibe. I’m not a huge fan of the classic blue SOLDIER uniform though, but if anyone can pull it off, Cloudy can. I admittedly don’t have super strong opinions on his looks otherwise, but that’s not a bad thing for me! He’s just…HIM.

~

Sephiroth

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

Fuck yes. Because I want to know it for real. Or not, because that keeps the significance of NOT knowing it alive and well, as the gods intended.

I can’t decide. It really matters to me though. It plagues my mind. The fourth-wall break in all the guidebooks where they’re like, “Oh uwu, we don’t know any of his personal details, not even his age or birthplace teehee 👉👈” is infuriating and yet effective. It makes Shinra feel real.

Of course Shinra couldn’t reveal his age. They sent him to war at *checks timeline notes* what was probably 13-14, and then conveniently permitted that to be the general recruitment age.

Hell, that ain’t legal. Oh wait. It IS if you don’t let the public know. I hate it and love it.

He’s probably 14 in First Soldier, 25 at Nibelheim and 30 in the main story, but not knowing for sure because of deliberate obscurity in the narrative just…haunts the soul….

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

Yeah. Every detail. His stupid gothy, stylish uniform makes me think too hard about its significance when there probably isn’t much outside of Nomura being Nomura. Seph’s hair is extremely important to be for so many reasons. His eyes are their own story. Every detail on his face, every flaw and blemish I can find in his rendering…I love. His build, his posture, and mannerisms. His voice. His sound, his presence.

His ridiculous 80 mile long sword, his wing and the feathers…the BLACK FEATHERS. His ascended, reborn form, his biblically accurate angel form, his MOST BELOVED SMOL FORM!

I’m gonna cr—okay sorry I’ll shut up <3

[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Sleepwalkers

Pairing: Vincent Valentine x GN!Reader

Synopsis:

Haunted by decades of guilt, regret, and the weight of choices not his own, Vincent Valentine has spent most of his life as a passive observer, a man shaped by duty and sorrow. One quiet night at camp, amidst the shared grief of his companions and the looming threat of the world’s end, he finds an unexpected moment of connection that challenges his long-held detachment. Or, healing comes in baby steps.

Word Count: 1,396

Warnings: A little angst. Mention of canon character death. Brief mention of blood, body horror.

Read on AO3

Half a century of life, and Vincent Valentine spent most of it asleep. Not just the three decades of self-imposed solitude, sealed away in that coffin, drowning in guilt and regret, but even the years before. He’d been sleepwalking through his life—a shambling corpse, puppeted by duty. He became a Turk to prove something, to make something of himself beyond his father’s long and looming shadow. A man in his own right. That was the idea. But even then, every step seemed more choreographed than chosen.

The post in Nibelheim? That wasn’t for him—it was for Veld, for the team, for the company. Each assignment, each decision, framed by someone else’s need, someone else’s hand tugging the strings. And Vincent, with his quiet acquiescence, had always gone along. Always. Weak and witless as he was, he’d never once dug in his heels, never entertained the wild, reckless idea of wanting something purely for himself.

There was always someone else’s need that was greater, another’s desire that surpassed his own. His father. The Turks. Veld. Lucrecia—

Lucrecia. He had wanted her. But now, with thirty years of distance, he isn’t sure if it had been love or just the impulse to alleviate her suffering, to protect her. He supposes it doesn’t matter anymore. She had made her choice, and he’d bowed out. As always, he’d stepped aside, made room for her to choose someone else.

For all the good it had done him.

Even a death on his own terms had been denied him.

Hojo had put a bullet in his heart, and before his blood could even cool, Lucrecia had plunged her hands into his broken chest and pulled it back out. Between the two of them, they’d torn him apart like dogs fighting over a bone—cutting and stitching, splicing and fusing, until there was little left of Vincent Valentine. The man replaced with something ancient, something dark.

Now, as he sits at the edge of camp, the others settling in for the night, the weight of his inaction feels like it might crush him. He presses a hand to his chest, the sharp metal fingers of his gauntlet resting over the unnatural thrum where his heart should be. The night grows quiet, the buzz of nearby conversation dwindling to nothing as his companions seek out sleep one after the other.

Vincent doesn’t mind keeping watch. The long stretch of quiet solitude comes as a blessing after a day spent tolerating Yuffie’s endless complaints, Tifa’s brittle smiles, or Cloud’s thousand yard stare. Aerith’s absence hangs over them like a cloud and daylight only reveals the fracture in their group, the fragile hold they each have on their grief. But suddenly, the prospect of holding silent vigil by himself until dawn seems a daunting task.

He isn’t sure how much time passes, only that when he hears a rustling beside him, the fire has dwindled down to embers. Overhead, an owl hoots, leaving its roost to hunt, and Vincent turns to find he’s no longer alone.

His eyes trace the line of your legs, the hem of your shirt, the shape of your waist, and finally up to your face. Backlit by moonlight, your hair glows in silver, a soft halo framing your features. You offer him a sleepy smile, stretching as if shaking off the remnants of a dream.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Vincent asks, his voice low and even, though his crimson gaze lingers on your face.

You shake your head, settling beside him, close enough that he can feel your warmth. “Too quiet,” you admit with a small laugh, looking out at the darkened woods beyond the camp. “Figured I’d keep you company for a while.”

He watches you closely, noting the strain that hovers behind the sweetness of your smile, the tension in your shoulders that belies a deeper issue. But Vincent doesn’t press and realizing he’s been staring long enough, he scoots to the side in wordless invitation. It’s a small gesture, enough room for you to settle in, but subtle enough to ignore should you so choose.

It’s all the same to him. Still, he feels a small flicker of relief when you sink down onto the grass beside him. Both of you face ahead, attention fixed resolutely on the horizon. But he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. You worry at your lip, fingers twisting idly around the longest blades of grass. 

“It’s a nice night,” you whisper, abandoning your fidgeting to lean back on your hands. Your head tips back so you can look up at the stars. 

Vincent hums, shifting his cloak higher over his chin.

“Do you…do you think the stars will still be here. Even when–even if, the rest of this all goes away.”

Goes away. Vincent’s lips pull into a tight line. You dance so delicately around saying what you really mean, but he hears what you don’t say. 

If we fail. If Sephiroth gets control of the black materia and brings the world as we know it to an end. If we let everything die. 

The stars. You tilt your head back to gaze at them, their light faint but enduring, scattered across the velvet expanse of the night. The quiet vulnerability in your voice lingers between you like a fragile thread.

Vincent doesn’t answer immediately, nearly decides not to answer at all. His gaze drifts upward, following yours, but he doesn’t see the stars—not truly. What he sees is a void, endless and cold, mirroring the emptiness he’s felt for decades. The world you’re fighting to save feels distant to him, a place he no longer belongs. Another dream his battered body is too weary to chase. But your question tugs at something deep, something he hasn’t let himself consider in far too long.

Will the stars still be here, even if everything else is lost? Like him are they cursed to linger on, watching even as all sense of time or meaning slips away? Suddenly he pities them, the bright points of light sparkling overhead.

“They’ll remain,” he says finally, his voice low, the words carried more by certainty than warmth. “Stars don’t depend on us. They existed long before we did, and they’ll shine long after we’re gone.”

You nod, though your expression is distant, thoughtful. “I guess that’s comforting,” you murmur. “In a way.”

Vincent glances at you, his crimson eyes catching the faint silver glow of the moonlight. “In a way,” he echoes. The silence stretches between you again, the kind that feels both heavy and unspoken, yet somehow companionable.

As the quiet settles around you, the warmth of your presence radiate beside him. Neither of you speak another word.  Your breathing slows, finally the tension in your frame softening as the weight of exhaustion finally takes hold. Vincent notices your movements grow still, your head dipping slightly before it comes to rest on his shoulder.

He freezes, his body instinctively rigid at the unexpected contact. It’s been years since anyone has sought such closeness from him—or since he’s allowed it. His gauntlet brushes against the fabric of his cloak as he considers pulling away. But then, he stops. Slowly, the tension drains from his frame as he realizes you’re not asking for anything from him, not even words. Just rest. Just this, a quiet moment of respite before facing down the inevitable.

Carefully, he adjusts his posture to support your weight. His chin lowers until it rests lightly against your head, strands of your hair brushing his cheek. The gesture is subtle, almost imperceptible, but it feels monumental to him. For so long, his actions have been dictated by others—by duty, by guilt, by expectation. But this? This is a choice.

For the first time in what feels like lifetimes, Vincent Valentine chooses to stay in the moment, to step into it wide awake. Not because he owes it to someone, not because it’s expected of him, but because he wants to.

The stars continue their silent vigil overhead, indifferent to the small, quiet scene beneath them. Yet, for the first time in a long time, Vincent doesn’t feel their distance as a curse. With you resting peacefully against him, the void within him feels just a little less endless. It’s fragile, fleeting, but for now, it’s enough.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 20: Scaredy Cat - Cloud Strife x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Cloud Strife x Fem!Reader

Warning: None! Brief mentions of death/battle but nothing going into detail

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word count: N/A

Prompt: Reader is scared of ghosts and Cloud plays bodyguard

Notes: Something short and sweet! For our beloved Cloud <3

You always tried your best to be brave, even in the face of danger. Nobody likes a crybaby, especially in the midst of the world falling apart right before your eyes. However just because you tried, didn’t mean it was always going to end well. Your friends always gave you the strength you needed. Surprisingly, there were a few times you managed to help in battle to keep your friends from dying or being severely injured.

It’s like your mind goes blank and all you can think of is losing them, then you just go into hyper drive.

Yet you were still afraid.

You were haunted by the memories of the lost souls you’ve come across, all the people you couldn’t save, many “what ifs”

The day was exhausting to say the least, your friends and you managed to crash at a motel. You had been traveling for the last few hours by foot, the sun was already disappearing and there was still a long way to go. There was no use in forcing yourselves to keep going without having some time to rest.

Your eyes felt heavy, mindlessly following the familiar figures in front of you. Cloud had one of your bags slung over his shoulder, he would’ve carried you on his free hand if it didn’t look so ridiculous.

“Mhm?” You looked to Aerith as she looked to you with a frown.

“We’re going to set our stuff down then grab a bite, did you want to come?” She repeated with a laugh at your tired expression.

“I think we’ll be fishing my face out of soup if I don’t get some rest in the next few minutes.” You admitted only to hear a barely audible scoff from Cloud as he led the group up the stairs, keys in hand.

The floor was rented by your group, Red and Barret stayed in one room, Tifa and Yuffie stayed in the other, which left you and Aerith to bunk together. Cloud was the only one who had his own bedroom, everyone figured it’d be better that way anyway.

You mindlessly followed the soldier into the room you’d be sleeping in as he unlocked the door, setting your bag inside for you as the rest of the team descended into the small dining hall.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” You asked half asleep, rubbing your eye standing by the door frame.

For a second there was no response, Clouds figure stood there in the darkness as he looked around the room.

“No, I’m okay.” He admitted in a low voice.

He seemed to be pushing through his sleepiness as much as you were. You rubbed your eyes again, attempting to keep yourself awake enough to keep a small conversation between you two alive.

“Aren’t you tired? Why don’t you go to bed, I was just going to crash. I don’t think I can even get out of this” you admitted, your lids were heavy on your eyes. There was an uncomfortable silence, although brief, you figured you could fix this in the morning.

“Cloud?” You wondered out loud when you saw movement. Even in your half asleep mind, you were still aware. Your feet mindlessly took you to where there was a warm fluffy bed, full of pillows and blankets for your aching bones.

“Hm?” You looked back as you set your bag down onto the dresser, you swore you heard mumbling. Your eyebrows grew a frown, but it was soon washed over by the sight of the bed.

You plopped onto the covers, kicking your shoes off your feet and closing your lids. Maybe it was the exhaustion.

“Come here.”

You heard clear as day from an unfamiliar voice which made you shoot right up. Your breath hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Cloud?! Aerith?” You called out, nearly panting. Your eyes grew twice their size, looking around rapidly. There it was, the shadow moving across the room again.

You felt tears building and streaming down your cheeks. “Cloud!” You called out, closing your eyes shut as you swung your legs over the bed and ran out of the door frame only to crash against a figure which caused you to fall back.

It was Clouds arms that caught you.

“Hey!” He called out, his grip held onto you, concern as alive as ever on his face. “What happened?”

“I don’t know! I’m scared!” You cried out hiding your face into his chest. Cloud knew exactly what you were talking about, he wasn’t going to bring it up, mainly because he wanted to spend more time with you.

“I can stay here with you if you want.” He murmured as he held the back of your head against him. “Please.” You whispered, still not daring to open your eyes, just knowing you were in safe hands.

[yourlilkaiju]

A Shinra organized Haunted House, Compliments of Rufus Jr. (We have no idea why):

Angeal wanted nothing to do with this. However given that he pulled his name out of the hat for who would be assigned to what, he figured working security wouldn't be a bad idea. He especially wouldn't have to get assaulted by any punks going through the haunted house.

Zack got off lucky as all duties were assigned to the rest of the crew. So he figured he could invite Aerith to see what the nights event looked like. He thinks he's going to be the brave and impressive one....Aerith ends up comforting him as he buries his face in her shoulder instead. Zack quickly learns that he does not like haunted houses. It's the opposite for Aerith.

Sephiroth somehow ends up being a scare actor. It's probably Shinra's lame excuse to get more of a female backing, so they put him in a vampire costume. When he see's Zack and Aerith he tries to say hello, but notices that Zack is... indisposed. He'll try again later. Much later. Genesis can be heard not too far off. He frequently has to get into character to let the patrons down easy, or scare them off with the talons given to him and his height if they get a little too....rowdy so to speak.

Genesis is pissed that he was chosen for the werewolf instead of the vampire part, so he complains every chance he gets. Yet plays up the role better than Sephiroth in an attempt to outdo his general by any means necessary. He has to steal the show. He absolutely has to!

Tseng is playing a cult leading butcher with a fake body that spurts blood and gets too enthusiastic about his role. Sometimes he contemplates how Sephiroth would have taken this role and shakes off the chill that goes down his spine. Best not to think about it, yeah?

Cissnei is playing the next human sacrifice and the fake blood mixed in with her tears may or may not be a bit too convincing. She might have caused Zack to faint close to the way out if Tseng hadn't already.

Rude is also on Security and acting tech, as he double checks to make sure that everything is running smoothly and none of the actors are being messed with (namely Sephiroth). He doesn't need to worry much about Genesis. Tseng, on the other hand....

Cloud is assisting tech. He would rather not go through what Sephiroth and Tseng may be dealing with....yeah he doesn't have to worry much about Genesis. (He hopes.) Cissnei will likely ask for help. However, he trips over loose wires most of the night due to Genesis trying to make a show of things and Sephiroth frequently trying to get away from the crowd. He eventually notices that there are other cameras beyond just the Security cameras.

Rufus Jr. realizes he's been caught and proceeds to make his way from the tower to tour the haunted house to seem inconspicuous. Cloud side eyes him as if to say "sure boss, I know you're being a creep." Before moving on to the rest of his work. In all honesty he wanted to do this because he'd never actually been to a haunted house and seeing it from a ground view made him realize just how disorganized it was.

Reno was made the stage manager. He doesn't know what a stage manager does, but he does know that there are supposed to be scare captains. So he quickly runs in and does not realize that he'd run past Rufus and assigned the first scare actor he saw the position of Scare Captain. The scare captain is Genesis. Genesis does not understand the position. But this is adequate enough for him to beat Sephiroth for once.

None of the crew assigned realize they would be working until two in the morning. All of them have a 7am shift, save for Rufus Jr. It's fair to say that the temptation to strangle their boss is apparent. The moment Zack comes in, he can immediately feel the tension in the air and immediately leaves, not even thinking of coming back without coffee and doughnuts.

[logicaldelta]

Scrunkly Week day 7 : Spring

Honestly? Put this one off for as long as I could. But as it is scrunkly week, these two were bound to make an appearance at some point. sigh.

Prompt: A crown of flowers upon your head

Meeting Aerith was good. She was his friend. They got along well. So why was it that her garden summoned such upsetting visions to his mind?

It was dark out, had been for a few hours now, and he was unable to properly sleep in the little room that Aerith's mother had graciously agreed to let him stay in for the night. Yet, sleep wouldn't come, and he found himself here, in the middle of the garden.

He wasn't sure if his brain just hated him. Were the things he was seeing memories, dreams or nightmares? He couldn't figure it out. It killed him to not know.

A sigh escaped him in a whisp of fog, the chill air nipping at his exposed arms and face. The cold was an old friend, a welcomed reminder of the town that was once his home.

It wasn't long before another figure joined him in the field. An unwelcome one. A hated one.

Sephiroth loomed above him, head tilted up to look at the stars while Cloud himself remained staring at the ground. He couldn't bring himself to look at the man — the spectre that had haunted him since he died.

Sephiroth didn't have the same reservations. A hand grasped Cloud's chin, stronger than it was the last time they made contact with each other. He was grinning down at him now. That smile haunted Cloud's dreams.

"Does it make you think of me? The cold." Sephiroth's voice was quiet, making Cloud feel like they were the only people on the planet.

He hated it. He hated even more that he would've once killed to receive this attention from Sephiroth.

"Why would it?" He tried to keep his tone neutral despite the way his heart thudded painfully within his chest.

"Our last day together."

Anger flashed through him and he smacked the hand away from his chin. The effort was futile. Nobody was physically, truly there.

"Get away from me," Cloud snapped, his voice louder than he intended for it to be.

Sephiroth smirked, kneeling down in front of him. "There, there. Wouldn't want to wake the girl, would you? She'd ruin our time together."

Cloud would love for their 'time together' to be ruined. But Aerith had had a long day, and he didn't want to disturb her sleep.

Not wanting to give Sephiroth the satisfaction of him agreeing, he chose to remain silent.

"You never had this much trouble sleeping when we worked together before. Do you perhaps miss my presence?"

Cloud groaned, burying his face in his hands. Trying to ignore the small part of him that preened at the attention, a lingering feeling from when he was younger.

"No."

Despite his denial, Sephiroth's smile remained. Cloud wanted to smack it off his face. He knew the hit would just pass through him.

It was the longest conversation they'd had since Sephiroth began haunting him. Normally others would be around to break Cloud free. Here, he was trapped. Whether by his solitude or Sephiroth's piercing gaze, he wasn't sure.

The gaze of the dead man turned to the flowers around them, his gaze analytical. He drifted off to get a closer look, and Cloud took the added space granted to him to breathe again. He hadn't realised that he wasn't doing so properly with Sephiroth watching him. He stared at the ground, trying to calm himself down. It wasn't very effective, his heartbeat still faster than it should be.

After a few minutes he felt something land on his head. His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked up to find Sephiroth standing above him once more. He raised a hand to his head, further confused by the flowers he felt sitting there. He went to remove them, but Sephiroth's hand stopped him.

"Don't." And he found himself complying. His hand fell back down by his side, and this time he watched as Sephiroth stared at him. A smirk slowly grew across his face, and he tilted his head. "It suits you."

"What is it?"

"A symbol of what we could be if you stopped pushing me away."

That filled Cloud with a cold sense of dread. He knew a small amount about what Sephiroth wanted from him. It was nothing he wanted to be part of. What could've been placed on his head? He was fretting, trying to figure it out without directly removing the object.

Sephiroth picked up on this, disappearing out of his line of sight once more and shortly after returning with a similar object on his own head. Cloud squinted at it, confused. There was no way Sephiroth had made something so harmless. It was almost… cute?

Cloud hit himself in the knee lightly to snap that train of thought immediately. Sephiroth was not cute. He was evil.

Still. Something about the image of the former war hero turned traitor with something as childish as a flower crown on his head stirred up feelings within Cloud that he'd rather ignore.

The air around them grew lighter as the sun began to rise, and Cloud could see as Sephiroth's form turned more ghostly. Less solid. He smirked down at Cloud one last time before he vanished with the receding darkness. All that remained of him was the flower crown, fallen to the ground now. Cloud reach out to pick it up, turning it over in his hands a few times.

The flowers on it were blue and a pale yellow. A thought tickled the back of his brain and he dropped the crown back onto the floor when he realised the colours were representative of himself — the blue flowers the shade his eyes were before the mako poisoning altered them, the yellow the shade of his hair.

He stood up, moving away from it in disgust. The slight breeze made the crown on his own head shift, and he tore it off his head and tossed it to the ground. It was silver and aquamarine.

He stomped down on the crown, crushing it into the dirt with more force than necessary to break them. Like he was trying to break them into nothing.

Trying to kill the ghost that haunted him.

[rottenpumpkin13]

The SOLDIERs at a Carnival

this is inspired by/answering an ask sent by @decadentblazewolf, who asked what each 1st's favorite amusement park ride would be.

★ The Gold Saucer's traveling carnival has reached Midgar! It's a glimmering mass of hair-raising rides, mouthwatering food, and guaranteed to thrill even the coldest of hearts!

★ Sephiroth refuses to go.

★ Flat out refuses. They try in vain to placate him, telling him about the Saucer's fighting simulator, the cheesy-zolom pasta vendors, but nothing works. In his mind this is childish, immature, and there are much better ways to spend his off-day rather than milling about some mind-numbing park with too many crowds.

★ Zack won't go if Sephiroth doesn't go, and Angeal won't go if Zack doesn't go. Genesis has been looking forward to this all month and refuses to have his plans changed.

★ So he does was feisty redhead with pyromania does best and casts sleep on Sephiroth. After a lot of screaming and scolding on Angeal's part, they decide to just take the unconscious Sephiroth and deal with the fallout later.

★ The fallout in question comes halfway through the car ride⏤Angeal is driving⏤when Sephiroth wakes up angry and tries to commit Gen-icide then and there.

★ Anyway, they get there, Sephiroth begrudgingly has to stay, and they immediately decide to get on the swing carousel just as the sun is setting. This ends up being Angeal's favorite ride, just because of the cinematic air of it all. He sneaks his camera onto the ride and takes many pictures of the sun setting over Midgar in the distance.

★ Next up is the bumper cars! Zack adores them. The bumper car experience ends up being 1) Zack trying to be a show-off and pulling cool stunts; 2) Sephiroth misunderstanding the concept of the bumper cars and maneuvering his as neatly as he would a real car (he's very weary of the civillians around him); 3) Genesis shouting "STOP BEING SUCH A STICK IN THE MUD!" before ramming his bumper car at Sephiroth's, purposefully inciting a bumper car fight; 4) Angeal speeding after Genesis and Sephiroth before they kill each other.

★ Then comes what Genesis had been pining over for weeks, the Meteor Coaster, an imposing roller coaster standing at a whopping 200m, rivaling the infamous shooting coaster itself.

★ Something about being plunged into the ground, then up in loops through the air, then tossed around like a rag doll while shooting at targets thrills Sephiroth. He got a proper hit of adrenaline and now wants to check out all the gruesome rides.

★ Since Angeal now can't feel his legs, he's definitely had enough of joy rides for a while. Zack, being the good pupper he is decides to go check out the food with Angeal, meanwhile Angeal and Sephiroth ride the roller coaster again before moving onto the other rides.

★ Angeal is frankly appalled by all the greasy and utterly unhealthy food being sold. He watches in horror as Zack downs three churros, two pretzels, a corn dog and a bucket of fried chocobo in record time.

★ After this they check out the haunted house, where Angeal convinces Zack the ghosts and chainsaw-wielding maniacs are totally real.

★ Sephiroth and Genesis find the battle arena, then are promptly kicked out after Genesis blows a hole through one of the walls when he loses to Sephiroth.

★ The group meets back at the ferris wheel. Zack shows off all the cool stuffed animals he won and plans to gift Aerith and Cloud. Angeal caved and bought the sugary kettle corn, and spends the entire ride throwing bits of it at Genesis, all while Genesis fights back using his candy dumbapple as a shield.

★ Sephiroth ends up sitting back, watching the sky and tracing the faint constellations with his eyes. He Laughs when Zack joins the kettle corn fight and throws a fistful at Genesis's face. Genesis proceeds to use Sephiroth's arm as a shield. Sephiroth lets him.

★ He's glad he came. He would've missed small moments like these, when he realizes how lucky he is to have people in his life who care about him, and who he cares for. More than they will ever know.

★ It turns out the ferris wheel is Sephiroth's favorite ride.

[setoangel01-fanfiction]

Reassemble

Homecoming - Chapter 5 (Previous Chapters)

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Pairing: Zack Fair x Aerith Gainsborough (Zerith)

Rated: T

.....

Chapter Summary: While setting up his bed for the foreseeable future, Zack and Aerith finally have a chance to air out some dirty laundry.

.......

The room, while filled with the sounds of the cleaning, the sink running, soft clank of metal cutlery on ceramic dishes and the occasional splash as Elmyra scrubbed them clean, the two women remained uncharacteristically silent.

Which was odd considering the mother and daughter duo were usually filling the air with easy light-hearted chatter at this time of day.

Stories from Elmyra's occasional afternoons in the doctor's clinic helping patients or something peculiar that occurred during grocery shopping would be told. Afterwards, Aerith would regale her mom with tales of all the interesting people she'd encounter during her flower selling topside at Loveless Avenue or funny mishaps and misadventures of the adorable (and quite cheeky) children at the Leaf House.

Typically a fun bonding moment between them as the lights above the plate dimmed and the city of Midgar quieted down for the evening ahead. A reassuring habit that formed naturally over the years, easing them into a comfortable sense of familiarity to finish off the day before retiring for bed to start it all over again tomorrow. This was usually their time to simply be together and share stories and relax in the familial presence while they cleaned up the after dinner mess…but tonight was drastically different.

The silence dragged on with the events from this particular evening playing on loop in the stifling quiet atmosphere.

Haunted by the absent, yet somehow not, glassy look in Cloud's unnaturally bright half-lidded gaze as well as the forced smile constantly plastered on Zack's face while his expressive eyes remained darkened by unseen shadows both adding to the cacophony of anxiety that surrounded them.

Yet, mostly, it was Zack's words that hovered over the suspenseful atmosphere most.

Footnotes of an untold story dredged in more violence and terror neither of the women could possibly begin to fully comprehend. A torment that Zack and Cloud were forced to endure these past five years while the world went on around (and without) them. A story dredged in betrayal, grief, pain and misery they somehow survived yet Zack was not fully willing to disclose even as it obviously ate him up inside until he was a hollow shell of his exuberant former self.

All of his inner agony masked behind his easy (yet painfully broken) smile, yet all the hurt he endured was physically etched into the new faint scars across the tapestry of his tanned skin. White, thin scars that were a bit too precise to be from any battle with human or fiend, all these tells combined with new age lines at the corners of his lips and dark shadows bruising heavily underneath agitated blue eyes showcased more than words ever could.

Neither Aerith nor Elmyra could imagine just how drastically their lives would have shifted since they had cleaned up after breakfast this morning…

Who knew cleaning two sets of extra plates, cutlery and glasses could change so much?

Aerith found herself processing the bits and pieces of Zack's story from the little he told her here and earlier at the church. While she wanted desperately to know more, seeing the exhaustion weighing her dark-haired SOLDIER down kept her lips sealed tight. She would never push him but if she didn't know what was exactly wrong, she felt as if she couldn't help and not knowing how to ease his pain was suffocating.

For so many years she desperately waited, wanting nothing more than to see Zack again. Praying and wishing for the day he'd walk back into her life, to see him push through those heavy church doors and wrapped back into her arms where he belonged.

…And he did.

Yet the Zack that came back to her was so inexplicably broken in a way she couldn't understand, and while she couldn't be happier to have him here with her, Aerith didn't know how she could help him.

...And that was killing her.

Almost on autopilot, Aerith finished placing all the leftovers in separate tupperware and placed them in neat stacks in the fridge. Once done, she brushed by her mom to access the lower cabinet drawers to grab a dry cloth in order to help with the dishes when she felt her mom's hip nudge her own.

The Flower Girl jolted from the sudden contact, "Yeah?" Aerith asked, clearing her throat when her voice broke slightly at the single word.

Elmyra's face was neutral even if her eyes were red-rimmed and troubled. It appears Aerith wasn't the only one struggling with everything that happened tonight. Her mom's yellow gloved hands still submerged in the sudsy water and mindlessly washing another pot as she turned to Aerith and flashed her a painfully gentle smile.

"It'll all be okay, honey. We're going to do everything we can to help them. I promise." Elmyra stated firmly, spoken with an assurance as if she was trying to convince both her daughter as well as herself.

A half sigh, half sob she quickly stifled left Aerith's throat as she bent down to finally retrieve a towel. Pursing her lips as she carefully grabbed a wet dish on the rack and began drying it with a bit too much gusto before replying, "I know we will… It's just…" her words trailed off in uncertainty before she finished with a simple, "Thanks, mom."

Aerith had only dried three dishes before Elmyra's hands suddenly went still in the water.

Glancing over, she noticed her mom's lips were set in a firm purse and she was staring out over the darkened garden through the window behind the sink. A distant look in her eyes told Aerith that her mind was focused elsewhere outside the monotony of chores.

"Mom?" Aerith asked.

Elmyra glanced over at her for a moment before replying, "I just remembered something. There's only one twin bed in the guest bedroom, isn't there?"

The Flower Girl's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden chance in atmosphere and the question itself, "…Yes." she answered anyway.

A sudden soft chuckle laced the older woman's lips as she flashed Aerith a coy expression, "Well, you don't want your boyfriend sleeping on the cold hard floor do you?"

Aerith's cheeks went scarlet before Elmyra shook her head with a bemused smile, "No. I mean, there's that rolled up mattress in your closet he can use." she clarified, giving her daughter a look before continuing, "I could finish up down here. Why don't you go help Zackary set that up before he ends up passing out on the floor?"

"I-I could help you finish up here first."

Elmyra's lips curled into a patient yet exasperated expression, "Just go, honey. Don't let Zackary have a terrible nights sleep just so you can help me dry the dishes." The smile slipped from her mom's lips for a moment, "That boy has been through enough today; he deserves a good night's rest, don't you think?"

Aerith nodded, fighting the burning behind her eyes at the warmth of her mother's smile and the unspoken words of acceptance. "Thank you, mom."

"You're welcome, my flower. Now get going before he falls asleep on the floor. If memory serves me right, I distinctly remember that boy easily falling asleep sitting up at the dinner table a few years ago so don't give him the chance to sleep uncomfortably now," Elmyra bumped her hip against her daughter's once more before turning back to the dishes she'd been neglecting. There was a tiredness in her mom's eyes but the small smile upon her lips was genuine; blonde and grey bun bobbing gently as she continued her work at the sink.

Smiling so big it hurt her cheeks, Aerith quickly gave her mom a side hug before she left the room. Her happy, light footsteps soon leading through the dining room than up the staircase before fading out of hearing range.

When all was silent in the kitchen once again, Elmyra smiled softly to herself.

Yeah, it would all be alright.

Aerith brushed the slight dampness from her palms on her dress as she approached the guest room. She was worried that Zack may have already fallen asleep but as she got closer, Aerith heard Zack's muffled voice speaking in a low gentle tone that thankfully indicated he was still awake.

Gathering up her nerve, Aerith took a calming breath, lifted her hand and knocked twice on the door.

Before she could even fully draw her hand away, Zack had opened the door and was standing in front of her. Bright curious blue eyes and an easy smile on his face that didn't quite mask the utter exhaustion in his gait and the purple bruises under his bottom lashes.

Aerith opened her mouth to speak yet a sudden shyness washed over her out of nowhere as he stood so tall and handsome, and he smelt so good…

Probably sensing her discomfort, Zack broke the ice. "Hey," he uttered softly.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Aerith asked, face burning slightly as she had trouble meeting his eyes. Dammit! She wasn't that shy teenager Zack knew all those years ago yet his presence was bringing that side of her back it seemed.

"I, uh, just finished putting Cloud to bed…" Zack gestured lazily to the blonde lying on the only bed in the room; blonde Chocobo-like tresses poking out amidst the pile of soft blankets and pillows. It really was so incredibly sweet and admirable how well Zack was taking care of his Mako-poisoned friend. How rare of a friend Zack was to go so far for those he held dear.

Aerith smiled at how Zack had taken the time to even tuck Cloud in the bedding, "That's good. I'm glad he's finally getting some rest."

"Yeah, me too. He was out as soon as his head hit the pillows," Zack chuckled, "I was actually about to turn in myself. So… uh, what's up? I-Is everything alright?"

Clearing her throat and steeling her resolve, Aerith smiled up at him, "Everything's fine but I really hope you weren't planning on sleeping on the floor," she stated coyly, ignoring the intense blush most likely staining the apples of her cheeks as she stared up at him. Had he always been this tall?

Zack's response was immediate with wide eyes and coral staining his cheeks, "Well, kinda, yeah."

Aerith flashed him a thunderous expression complete with an irked pout.

"What?" Zack floundered, nervously scratching the back of his head, "It's a twin bed and I'm over six feet tall! It would be cramped even if it was just me! Let alone sharing with Cloud. That kid is a damn blanket hog I'll have you know!"

Seeing Zack's animated expressions brought a sudden warmth to her chest she hadn't felt in awhile. Sure, he may be quieter and more reserved than the Zack that left all those years ago, but his boyish charm was still as evident as ever.

Feeling she tormented him enough, Aerith giggled and smiled sweetly. "I actually have a different solution for that. There's a thick folded mat in my room that you can use. I would have brought it out to you but I have trouble moving that dresser in the closet, so I need a strong SOLDIER to help me get it out."

A flash of something dark passed over Zack's expression, but before she could decipher the meaning, Zack's smile brightened "Really?" he replied, "Damn, that would be great. I'd appreciate it."

"No problem." Aerith replied before stalling near the door where he flashed her a curious look. In a sudden moment of bravery, Aerith reached out to gently grasp his much larger hand in her own. The electricity that shivered along her arm at the mere touch of their skin meeting had her quickly turning her face away from his bewildered expression so he didn't see how her cheeks positively burned at the simple contact. "Come on, it's right in here."

It was a short trip, mere yards away, but feeling his warm hand in hers calmed the frantic beating of her heart and the rise of panic she'd felt whenever he left her side. A sudden, inexplicable anxiety that rose in her chest, that if he merely left her sight, he would simply disappear forever…

Zack didn't seem to mind the contact whatsoever. He seemed to relish in the touch, his hand eagerly grasped her own; easily intertwining their fingers as he followed her to her bedroom which was past the bathroom and down the hall. A room he hadn't been inside for five years and the mere thought of that made Aerith's tummy flip dangerously.

Opening her bedroom door with her free hand, the Flower Girl hid her nervousness to lead him inside the dimly lit bedroom. After flicking on the light, Aerith gently tugged at his hand to lead him into the center of her bedroom before she exclaimed with grand gesture of her arm, "Welcome back to Casa del Aerith!"

Zack chuckled at that, a sound that caused a shiver that echoed from where their hands were still clasped together straight down to her toes.

"Nice. Looks pretty much how I remember…" he commented softly in remembrance. Mako bright eyes looking around at the space they used to spend so much time together all those years ago. It almost felt like a different lifetime but Aerith wouldn't change anything about it for the world.

Not allowing him to reminisce on their past too long, Aerith gently pulled at their clasped hands to bring him back to the present and towards her closet.

Zack followed faithfully at her heels as they approached and once by the door, he reluctantly released her hand as she pointed toward the rolled-up gray mattress leaning against the wall in the back of the closet. Zack smiled sweetly before he gently broke away from her, "So, that's the one?"

"Yep," she nodded, moving slightly out of the way as Zack worked to move the heavy dresser in her storage closet to the side.

With his back turned toward her, Aerith finally let out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. Hands folded as if in prayer against her chest yet she still couldn't fully relax. Feeling nervous over his presence and hating it because Zack had just returned to her and instead of overwhelming giddiness, she just felt downright shy now.

Being around him made her feel like she was 16 years old all over again…

"...Hey. I uh, I wanted to say it earlier, but... um, I'm sorry," Zack's sudden voice came to her closer than she was expecting.

Aerith jumped slightly, seeing that while he had already pulled aside the heavy wooden desk with ease and was moving a few smaller pieces of wooden paneling to safely reach the mattress while she'd been staring out into space and lost in her own damn head.

Zack's words finally dawned on her a second later and she asked in genuine bewilderment, "…For what?"

The black-haired SOLDIER's cheeks were flushed as he looked down at his bare feet before clarifying, "…For earlier, ya know," he scratched the back of his head again, the cute nervous habit still remaining after all this time, "After I got out of the shower…" his voice trailed off and Aerith was happy he wasn't looking at her to see how red her cheeks got at the sudden reminder of that.

Seems she wasn't the only one still thinking about that...

Biting her lip, she responded, "Why would you be sorry?" she let out a soft laugh, "I was the one who barged in! If anyone should apologize for that, it should be me."

"Nah. I'm a SOLDIER - well, ex-SOLDIER. Point is, I should have better reflexes than that poor attempt at catching the clothes you threw at my face or at the very least, I should have bothered to lock the damn door," he explained. The shy smile and coral staining his cheeks as well as the tips of his ears eased the dull tightness and anxiety in her chest.

Zack always had that effect on her…she was so happy that never changed.

"It's okay. I'm sorry about throwing them by the way! I shouldn't have, I was just…" Aerith let out a breath, a nervous giggle escaping before she continued, "You surprised me is all. I should have knocked." Aerith bit her lip before glancing up at him through thick lashes, "And besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before, right?"

"Right," Zack chuckled softly, the sound warm and rich and his body heat so close had her shivering as he finally removed the folded up mattress from the closet. He placed the bundle on the ground where it stayed leaning up against the wall before Zack closed the small distance between them. The intimacy of his mere presence had her finally feel brave enough to look up into his perfect face and gorgeous blue eyes she'd missed so damn much.

"...But, it has been five years. That's a long time. Truthfully, I didn't even know if you'd still want to be with me, let alone being naked in front of you that soon - even if it was an accident," he laughed thickly, his fingertips brushing against her arm in a shy caress that had her entire body tingle from the sensation. "I'm sorry, Aerith…" the apology sounded like it was for everything left unsaid, none of which were the one thing he was actually verbally apologizing for.

The five year gap between them felt smaller than ever right now, like suddenly, no time had passed between them at all.

Aerith's heart thundered against her sternum when she felt him begin to pull away. His nervousness evident in his flushed cheeks and faltering gaze and she wanted it to abolish it completely so she prolonged the contact by reaching out to grasp at his retreating hand.

"Don't be," she whispered brokenly, squeezing his hand tightly. Her eyes boring into his own to showcase and push away at least some of the burdens on his shoulders. Wanting nothing more than to absolve him of what he believed were faults of his own when he was innocent in the circumstances that lead to all the years they'd lost between them. She wanted nothing more than to help him heal...

Zack peered back into her eyes. The weight he was carrying was immense; a strain and burden perched heavily on his shoulders yet they dropped slightly as he seen the forgiveness, acceptance and hopefully the unconditional love she still carried for him showcased in her meadow green eyes.

It must have, for the sigh that left his lips sounded so relieved, "...Thank you, Aerith. For everything…"

Aerith smiled up at him; eyes never leaving his own as she squeezed his hand tightly before pressing them both to her fiercely pounding heart. "Thank you, Zack, for coming back to me…"

Zack chuckled, a shy sweet smirk on his lips as he peered down at her. For a long time, he remained silent before he stated, "Hey, I was right ya know…"

Green eyed widened at the sudden words, the last Cetra flushing red to the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes when she realized how close his face had gotten to hers. His warmth and scent surrounding her like a drug induced haze. Aerith flashed him a teasing smile to hopefully cover up her sudden bashfulness, "I don't know if I believe that, " she giggled, "What are you supposedly right about?"

Instead of a verbal answer, Zack pulled one of his hands away from her before he brushed it teasingly along the flare of her hip. Large fingers ever so gently pinching the fabric of her dress as he gave it a soft tug to pull her even closer where she could feel the warmth of his skin even through all the layers of clothes as well as his soft breath caressing her face.

"That you look absolutely stunning in pink," he gave her one of those smiles that never failed to make her heart soar. Aerith happily took the hint and slipped in closer, their chests lightly brushing from the proximity.

"Well, you told me to wear it next time I saw you… I wanted to keep that promise - just like you kept yours," Aerith said so tenderly, gazing deeply into Zack's eyes - the most wonderful shade of blue like a perfect cloudless sky…

Yet before she could drown in the color too long or even had a chance to glance at his lips, she watched Zack suddenly pull away. His eyes suddenly closed tight, hiding a large yawn behind the hand he'd pressed to cradle his face before shaking his head when it was over.

A moment passed before the SOLDIER gave her apologetic smile. It was only now she'd forced herself to look at the thick dark bags under his eyes and knew Zack needed his rest and she'd been keeping him away from that.

There was always tomorrow to continue this conversation after all...

Cheeks flushing in embarrassment at not realizing it sooner, Aerith grabbed his hand and stated, "Come on. Let's set up your bed, you must be so exhausted!"

"Yeah, I am," Zack admitted with a boyish nervous blush staining his cheeks. Like herself, he seemed reluctant to pull away from her side yet he did. Turning his back to her, he began to place the large furniture he'd removed back into the closet. While Zack was preoccupied, Aerith took the time to gather some extra linens, thick blanket and a pillow from the chest near her bed. Turning back to him, he was standing patiently by the door with the rolled up mattress in his arms.

The couple silently left her bedroom back towards the guest room.

Afterwards, it was a rather quick process to set up his bed, making sure to do it quietly as to not disturb the slumbering blonde on the bed. Aerith knelt down to finish smoothing out the sheets, she peered up at Zack who was stifling yet another yawn behind his hand. Biting back a huff, Aerith laid out the blanket and fluffed the pillow. She was angry at herself for not realizing how obviously exhausted Zack had been the whole time, his seemingly endless energy quickly waning.

"There, that should do it," Aerith announced quietly, a slight bounce in her step as she stood back up to take in the bed he'd be sleeping for the foreseeable future. She'd have to ask her mom about looking into getting an actual one soon…

Zack stretched his arms above his head before they dangled like limp noodles by his side, he looked ready to fall asleep standing up. "Thank you so much, Aerith. I really appreciate everything you and your mom are doing. I really can't thank you enough."

Aerith brushed it off with a soft wave of her hand, "It's no trouble at all. Promise." she reassured him, reaching out to rub at his tense thickly muscled shoulders.

Zack looked as if he wanted to say more but instead just whispered, "You're the best."

"Yeah, I know," she teased, patting his shoulders before reluctantly pulling away to head back to the doorway to exit the room. "Now get some sleep, alright?"

"Sounds good…" his blue eyes peered at her. Zack hesitated for only a second before he closed the distance between them. Once in front of her, he slowly reached out to gently cup her face in his large warm hands, his thumb brushing a tender stroke on the apple of her cheek. After the slightest big of hesitation, he leaned down to place a ghost of a kiss where his thumb just vacated. Yet before she could respond or register the action fully, he pulled away. "Goodnight, Aerith," he whispered, the smile curling his lips was so painfully tender and soft.

The place where his fingers and mouth brushed burned heavily; her cheeks stained with blush yet a shy smile easily accentuated her lips, "...Goodnight, Zack." she replied in a breathy whisper before he gently closed the door behind him.

[crisiscutie]

Hey, can I please have an Aerith x gn!reader scenario where the reader wakes up from a nightmare about Aerith’s death, and Aerith having to comfort the reader? Thanks.

Sure. This is going to be 7R Aerith for that extra dose of tragedy.

Content Warnings: Angst, Discussion of Death.

Aerith had grown used to your loud, constant turning and grunting during the night, so it didn't bother her too much. As a light sleeper, she hears everything. She had to become one, due to the many nights she spent as a guinea pig for Shinra, huddled close to her now deceased mother as a child. Every time she saw her mother taken away for experiments, she was overwhelmed by feelings of dread, forcing her to stay vigilant in case it was the last time she would see her.

The sound of your whimpers brought back memories of her mother's, a reminder of the prison cell that had been their home. But this time, she doesn't have to pretend to be asleep. Or pretend to be oblivious or joyful to not worry her mother further. She now can do something. She can make a difference now.

Aerith rises from the bed, her emerald eyes searching your face with worry as she waits for you to wake up. You open your teary eyes to feel the warmth of her hands gripping your cold ones.

"Aerith, you, your... di-"

You tried to speak more, but the sorrow was too much. All that escaped your lips was a sob. If you weren't bawling, you would have noticed the flashes of fear and surprise in Aerith's beautiful eyes, and heard her barely suppressed gasp. She quickly pondered; Are you developing the same abilities she has now? How did you know about her fate!? No. She can't focus on that. Not when you're in this state.

She moves her face closer to yours, as her gentle hands gave yours a comforting squeeze.

"Nightmares may seem real, but they don't have to be true… I'm here to stay. I promise." You looked up at her, and you could almost feel the warmth of her determination emanating from her eyes. She's never been the type to make statements she doesn't have faith in.

"What matters now is that I'm with you… I'll always be here to support you, no matter what.." She tried to suppress her apprehension. The sound of her heart pounds in her ears, though thankfully you didn't seem to notice. You merely absorbed her words and the warmth that transferred from her body. Aerith rises from the bed, a bright smile replacing her determined expression.

"I'll get you a glass of water." Before you rise to join her, she shakes her head. "Stay here. Take a few breaths, I'll be right back." You sit back down, slightly disappointed that you couldn't accompany her.

Aerith closes the bedroom door with a soft click, her trembling hand pressed against her lips.

With her hand concealing her tears and loud sobs, she made her way down the hallway to the kitchenette. Oh, how much she wanted you to know she learned. How she really felt. How much she wanted you to promise to her, no matter what, you'll stay strong and keep walking forward. Your nightmare was a haunting signal of her unavoidable end that was loomed in the future. But the vision of her death was especially cruel for you to behold.

And Aerith is already resigned to it. Fate doesn't need to warn her of her death again. As the last Cetra, she will protect this planet, at any cost. She knows that her death will bring hurt and sorrow to all of you, yet you will find a way to survive. Through suffering, you will grow strong.

As she twists the doorknob back into your room, she forces a beaming smile, her cheeks rosy in the soft light of the room as your eyes meet. At least now, she can cherish the limited moments she has with you.

[goddessofroyalty]

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Verse: Cloud is the Remnant’s carrier

Tags: omegaverse, mpreg, strong implications of forced pregnancy

I was already thinking of writing this before I stumbled onto the location in Shinra Manor I’m pretty sure the remnants were conceived in in this verse.

Only contains Rebirth spoilers in the sense that it confirms certain characters are at Shinra Manor together and some story progression mechanics. Nothing important.

-----------

Barret won’t deny it – for all he wants to save it, there’s a lot of things in this world he hates.

He hates Shinra. The company that doesn’t seem satisfied with just draining the life of their planet from her veins, but is hell-bent on ensuring everyone but them is miserable while they do it.

He hates Hojo. A creep and a bastard by every measure. An asshole that sees three of Barret’s new allies as nothing more than science experiments. Who enjoys playing fucked up games every time they run into him even when he’s an AI security system in an old decaying mansion owned  by the soulless company that funds his horror experiments.

Most of all he hates feeling useless. Hates just standing around waiting while Cait Sith, who he still doesn’t know if he trusts, goes an unlocks the door to the next level of horrors housed beneath Shinra Manor.

He can tell Aerith hates it too even if she hides it better. Idly flicking through some papers she’s found like she’s pretending to be one of the immoral scientists on Shinra’s payroll.

Barret leaves her to it while he waits for Cait to hurry it up!

“Uh- Barret,” Aerith’s tone has him turning to look at her. Her face white like she’s seen one of the ghosts that probably haunt a placed as soaked in blood as this one, staring at one of the pages before her.

“What is it?” He snatches the paper from her, because they don’t know how much longer they’ve got ‘til the Shinra employee-controlled robot returns, scanning over it himself.

The report’s about some ‘Subject C’. And what the hell’s with Shinra and picking random letters for their experiments? They never seem to do it in alphabetical order.

‘Subject C’ is a vessel. The go-to word for some of Shinra’s worst creations.

‘Subject C’ seems less of importance to the report compared to what it’s carrying. Three fetuses that the report is keeping detailed record on every bit of data that can be gotten about them. Replacements for a previous lost experience.

It doesn’t take long for it to hit Barret – ‘Subject C’ is Cloud.

“Shit.” Barret doesn’t need to read anymore. The exact details of what happened to their resident ‘mega SOLDIER to make those three babies his business alone unless he wants to tell Barret or any of the others himself. And even then – Barret could go without the details of what they did to put those babies into Cloud.

“How did he get to Midgar?” Aerith asks, barely above a whisper. Yet her words echo through the empty halls of the isolated, hidden laboratory they are in. The kind of place where the real fucked-up shit you don’t want anyone knowing about happens.

“Hell if I know.” Midgar is a long trek from where they are now. Tifa said Spike’s babies had only been hours hold when she found him, so he must have done it pregnant.

No wonder he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“What do we do with it?” Aerith asks as if she isn’t the person best able to answer the question.

What would she want them to do if they found the records of her time in Shinra’s care?

If Barret ever gets his hands on that asshole Hojo-

The gate opens with a ding.

“Tada!” Cait Sith says, striking a post before walking over. “What are you reading?”

“Just some old reports,” Barret says, tossing them to the side onto the desk face down. One thing’s for damn certain – the cat, and whatever Shinra employee is piloting him, don’t need to know the details of what their company did to their team’s merc.

“Oh- anything we might need to know?” Cait Sith asks, prying bastard he is.

“Nope.” Aerith says with the dramatic shake of her head she does and a big fake smile. “Just money stuff.”

“Right-e-o,” Cait Sith accepts almost too easily. Taking a dramatic step to the side he gestures to the now open doorway. “Then shall we?”

“Yeah.” The sooner Barret can get away from this place the better.

[forgivemeforgetmenot]

Unwritten

( A Cloud x Aerith Fanfic)

Chapter 1: The Future Is Unwritten

Smoke congested the air; far-reaching flames confined Cloud to the center of Nibelheim. Wailing, crumbling, crackling—the soundtrack to a horror movie he couldn't turn off. Frantically, he searched the chaos for the culprit. "Sephiroth!" he yelled, gripping his Buster Sword.

Amidst the fumes and the fire, a pair of familiar eyes emerged, as sinister as green. Cloud attempted to charge forward but found his limbs paralyzed as the silver-haired monster slowly approached. Fear mushroomed in his chest. 

Then, in the blink of an eye, Nibelheim, Sephiroth—everything—dissolved. 

"Hellooo?" whispered a soft voice, "Cloud, are you okay?"

The mercenary grunted, rubbing the sleep from his blurry eyes as he sat up. Aerith observed, waiting patiently for a response. "Cloud?" she repeated, scooting closer. 

"I'm fine."

"You didn't look fine," she pointed out, "you were flinching and talking in your sleep."

"What did I say?" he asked curiously, hoping he hadn't divulged too much. 

"Sephiroth," Aerith replied quietly. 

Cloud's hands clenched; the name stirred an immediate sense of discomfort in the pit of his stomach. "Do you…want to talk about it?" Aerith asked cautiously. 

"I said I'm fine," he spoke sternly, instantly regretting the tone.

It had been months since his last confrontation with the Whispers and Sephiroth. Cloud still wasn't sure what to make of everything the group had experienced, and the knowledge that Sephiroth was still out there was unsettling, to say the least. 

He glanced at Aerith, who still sat beside him, though her eyes were fixed on her lap. Some of the visions he'd seen during the confrontation still haunted him; although those futures were no longer set in stone, their potential disturbed Cloud. "You've been pushing me away," Aerith stated suddenly.

"What do you mean?" he asked dumbly. She was right. Since their battle against Fate, Cloud had kept Aerith at arm's length. He struggled to cleanse the image of her lifeless body from his brain. Each time he looked at Aerith, the alternate memory flickered before his eyes. It made him sick. 

"Everything that happened... it was crazy, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah," he nodded, wanting to articulate more but struggling to find the words. 

"Whatever you're afraid of, whatever you think might happen, you have to remember—nothing is certain anymore. The future is unwritten." 

Sometimes, it seemed like she could read his mind; sometimes, it felt like Cloud didn't even need to utter a single word; Aerith could simply study his face or gaze into his eyes and discern precisely what was on his mind. 

She was both comforting and unnerving, simultaneously familiar yet strange.

A hand as delicate as silk cupped his cheek, tenderly turning his face in her direction. Tongue-tied at her touch, Cloud's lips parted. He suddenly became hyper-aware of their friends; thankfully, Tifa, Barret, and Red XIII were fast asleep. "Are you hearing me?" she asked, peering into his eyes. Even in the dark, they glowed. 

He grabbed her wrist and removed her hand from his face, "You were the one who told me to back off in the first place, remember?" The memory left a bitter taste in his mouth; his gaze contorted into a glare, but Aerith's remained gentle.

She stifled a giggle, "Aw, don't be petty. I told you not to fall in love with me, silly, not that you couldn't be within 15 feet of me. You've been acting like I have rabies or something."

"I'm not petty," Cloud grumbled, "and I'm clearly within 15 feet of you."

Aerith leaned in closer, so close Cloud could feel the warmth of her breath against his ear. Chills prowled down his spine; if he so much as turned his head, he might accidentally brush his lips against hers. "But I can tell you want to make a run for it," she teased. 

"I'm not afraid of you," he lied. 

"Oh?"

Before Cloud could speak, her lips pressed against his cheek. Startled, he jolted away. "Wha-what are you doing?" he faltered, embarrassment heating his face. Aerith laughed into her hands, trying hard not to disturb their slumbering friends. "Ugh," Cloud rose, ditching the impish flower girl by the campfire. 

He desperately needed space. "Oh, don't be so grumpy!" Aerith goaded, trailing closely behind. Clearly, she had not gotten the hint. Cloud lay down a short distance from the campsite, resting his hands beneath his head and ignoring Aerith as she continued talking. He gazed up at the night sky, a vast black canvas painted with sparkling stars. 

"Stop ignoring me," she pouted, lying in the grassy area beside him. 

"Stop talking," he sighed, pointing upwards. 

"Wow," she gasped, "there's so many! It's beautiful."

They lay together for quite some time, a comfortable silence between them. Eventually, Cloud noticed a change in Aerith's breathing. He angled his head and realized she'd fallen asleep. A cool breeze lightly tugged at her hair, and her long, dark lashes twitched ever so slightly. Aerith looked porcelain, peaceful, and unearthly beside him. 

He grazed his cheek, recalling the peck she'd left there earlier. Why did she do that? She was always messing with him, making him feel…

What, exactly?

He gazed at her, realizing he couldn't pinpoint it.

Aerith's eyes fluttered open; instantly, they targeted Cloud. Nervously, his eyes darted away. "I thought this was a dream," she said sleepily, shifting onto her side, "and if I looked, you'd be gone…"

"Still here," he answered softly. 

"Mhm," she sighed, snuggling up to his body. 

Now, Cloud wondered if he was dreaming; that same feeling of paralysis overcame his body. His senses told him to roll away from her, to retreat back to camp, but something within him refused. Aerith wasn't Sephiroth. No, this was a different kind of panic. 

Frozen, Cloud peered into the galaxy as Aerith clung to him. She had swiftly fallen back to sleep. Could he even get up without waking her? He didn't want to risk it—it'd be rude, after all. 

…Since when did he care about being rude? 

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

Repost with revisions!

[holyguardian]

“I am half child, half ancient.“ - Roran

Darkness still haunts your narrative.

Aerith all but had to bite her lip, opting to bite her cheek instead. She almost told Roran that he was wrong and she obviously was right — but instead she cast a look to her parents. Her dad had that big grin on his face, and her mother was already doting on her little bug all proud.

He was a full child. That wasn't halved at all, he was halving up the wrong thing to fit with his cetra heritage!

But then like a clap of lightning it struck her. The restraint she showed was rewarded with a rapid one-liner, and she sat bolt upright. "Yeah, because Dad's just a big kid too!"

"OI."

She laughed, triumphant. Roran could be wrong as much as he wanted, it meant she had a golden pass to tease their dad.

[altocat]

Can we have Kunsel and/or Roche for the character asks-? They've haunted my brain as of late

KUNSEL

Sexuality Headcanon: Straight Ally

Gender Headcanon: Male

A ship I have with said character: Lowkey?? I like the idea of Kunsel keeping an eye on Aerith while Zack was "away" and slowly developing unrequited feelings for her. He does what he can to protect her, but she'll never trust him. He just tries to be a good friend, even if she'll never return his feelings.

A BROTP I have with said character: Kunsel/Zack

A NOTP I have with said character: N/A

A random headcanon: Kunsel suffers from some sort of body dysmorphia and has a hard time looking at his own face in a mirror. Thus, the constant helmet. In truth, Kunsel is actually a really attractive guy. He suffers from pretty low self esteem and uses his constant email reminders and training tips as a way to validate his existence.

General Opinion over said character: For a background character, Kunsel is a bro. I love how the fandom has an endless array of different designs for him. I like his and Zack's dynamic and there's actually something tragic about the fact that he's the only one left in Shinra. All the others are just...gone. Survivor's guilt Kunsel needs to be a thing!

ROCHE

Sexuality Headcanon: Extremely gay.

Gender Headcanon: He/Him but occasionally dabbles in gender fluidity

A ship I have with said character: Roche/Luxiere as an occasional fling

A BROTP I have with said character: One-sided Roche occasionally barging in to give Lazard a massive headache.

A NOTP I have with said character: N/a

A random headcanon: Sometimes he just...disappears on the road during a mission. As in he bails and goes riding around instead. He has an EXTREMELY short attention span and honestly is just in love with life and enjoying everything it has to offer. If he's a bit selfish and reckless, so what? He's experiencing the world. That's good enough for him.

General Opinion over said character: This guy was a welcome addition to SOLDIER lore imo. He's so loud and obnoxious and he will NOT leave Cloud alone! He's got a pretty fun personality and I like the whole biker aesthetic. Very cool overall.

[strangepersonthefirst]

Hello, Those who watch this. It's not Strange today.

It is. But, well. I dropped the mask, and then I thought some more and I realized I needed some time to do actual past life regression. So it's not strange. It's just Me, still complete.

I have thoughts to share. Things I thought today, under another face, as myself.

I never thought the world was only math. I couldn't. I was born with a golden spoon- I can recall it, clear as ever.

I awoke in the plains. I heard it- thrumming at my fingertips, the mingling of death and life and growth and wind.. and I indulged a habit found by all of my further selves. I made the world start to sing a song. I didn't know the melody, or the words. But I sung, and it sung, and in that moment I think I made myself forever animist, even without any true teachings. I could feel the energy and the soul wrapped around it.

And then I grew. It's a habit of my lives, to find trauma when they are young. I was so attached to the world- that at merely 11 years, that life. My first life. I grew to know I was hunted. And the world responded to fear in the only way it ever does, when you connect so far and so much. I gained my first title. “The Afraid.”

It hums at my fingers now. It all does. I never named myself- that curtosy was given to my second, third lives. But I never named this one. Just my true name, because I could hear it. I spend so much time with my fingers in my ears because energy is so loud now. It's so much louder than it ever was.

And I'm just as scared. Maybe not just as. But I have been staring at it. When the bad harvest came, It was this voice who responded- the one who runs from gods, the Afraid. And now I have made plans, and I wonder- are we running, again? The title still fits this life. But the whole of me- the complete picture. We're not afraid, and we are not sorry. Magic doesn't kneel, it trades.

The universe takes no sides. It cannot care, it cannot bless. It can only recognize what you are and what you have worked to draw to you in one life. Anything more is old ghosts come to haunt. Remember that, Aerith, Bird. These things are no Karma. just old ghosts.