#anyways shinra is 18

[vincentvalenfine]

Intruder

There’s an intruder in the Shinra Manor. The guard dog awakens to deal with them as he’s supposed to, but instead finds himself intrigued… and with some pent-up frustration to relieve.

vincent valentine/afab!reader MDNI, 18+, nsfw word count: 8222 warnings: explicit piv intercourse, clothed sex (ok well... vincent is clothed at least) read also on ao3!

The muffled sound of the alarm buzzed in such a grating way that even Vincent Valentine couldn’t ignore it, especially considering it was designed specifically to make him get up. Brow wrinkling with displeasure, he feigned deafness for a few moments more before heaving an aggravated sigh, opening his eyes to the welcoming darkness within his coffin. It didn’t last as he pushed the lid up and off, but at least the yellowed lights were easy on his eyes while he sat up and looked to the monitors off in the corner where the obnoxious alarm sounded from. Looked like someone just coming down from the upper level into the basement, a single intruder. That should be simple enough to head off at the pass and he might not even have to fire a single shot if he played up his flair for looming and looking foreboding.

With a weary sigh he rose from the coffin and left the lid leaning against it, easily reachable once he could return to his slumber.

Knowing exactly where to place himself to catch them off-guard, he paced silently from his room and across the open expanse of what used to be a more useful space. These days it served best as a cage for when the Beast grew too restless.

To the elevator door he stalked, placing himself in front of it and crossing his arms as he waited for it to come to a halt. Whoever the intruder was wouldn’t be able to take more than a single step out before he confronted them, and if they sought a conflict, well… taking care of them would be a simple matter. He probably wouldn’t even have to get violent. Which was good, because sleep still hung over his shoulders just as his cloak did, wanting nothing more than to let oblivion pull him back under.

The door opened.

-

Nibelheim was buried in snow, and you were half-frozen to death looking for any kind of shelter to escape your icy fate. With the wind rushing all around you and flurries of snowflakes blocking your vision further than a few yards, you’d begun to lose hope of surviving when out of the endless white rose a mansion. Decrepit, looming, an unwelcoming visage… but your best hope of hunkering down until the storm passed. There was a wrought iron gate standing in your way, but luckily it didn’t appear to be locked and you managed to shove it open just enough to slip past its bars.

It really would’ve paid to be better prepared for your trip, but then you hadn’t really bothered to check the weather forecast for the Nibel region before planning your great expedition. You were paying for it now of course, trudging through the snow in thin pants that had done nothing aside from collect ice that would melt and soak them through as soon as you were warm enough. Your shirt wasn’t much better, nor was the light jacket. Really, it was a miracle you were able to make the final few steps up to the front door and throw all your weight into getting inside.

As the heavy door creaked open on rusty hinges, you stumbled forward and took a deep breath of moderately warmer air in relief, then fell into a fit of sneezing at all the dust that assailed you. This place reeked of stagnation and decay… but the interior was still strangely beautiful. The design spoke of opulence and old money: hardwood flooring and a high ceiling well-decorated with wood carving and chandeliers, not to mention the second floor balcony there to greet you with an angelic statue perched front and center, though the stairs were blocked with debris. You didn’t exactly want to go up there anyway - what you needed was to find somewhere warm enough that the threat of hypothermia would go away, you could strip your miserable outfit off, and maybe if you were lucky would have clothing or a bed for you to rest on until the weather got itself back in check.

A moment spent closing the door firmly behind you, and then you wandered carefully, taking in the air of abandoned elegance as you went. Piles of books, a dining table halfway dressed but with only a few cups long since emptied of any contents other than dust - it was all left to rot or gather that dust, and as you began to warm up your weariness was lifted somewhat by a sense of curiosity. What sort of mystery was behind a place like this? Why had it been abandoned for what had to be decades at this point, if the thick veneer of dust all over was any indication?

Your curiosity was further piqued when you spotted something out of place: an elevator door, hidden near the back, and a glowing red panel that indicated there was power. Approaching cautiously, you hesitated before giving it a push. It beeped, and the door slid open.

A working elevator in an otherwise abandoned mansion? Oh, this was getting more and more insane, but the irresistible pull of curiosity was too much to resist; you stepped into the elevator, contemplated the two buttons, then pressed the down button with a shrug. All the dirty dark secrets would probably be hidden in the basement, or else you’d find a dingy little wine cellar. Some alcohol would make you feel warmer, at least.

The ride was smooth, but your clothes were soggy by now and you couldn’t help shivering, arms clasped tight around you to try and retain a bit of heat. Maybe prioritizing a bedroom would’ve been a better idea, but too late: the doors opened, and you took a single step out before coming face to face with a man.

Oh… pretty.

He stared at you, looking perplexed, as if he’d just been about to take the elevator himself and was surprised to find another human being here in his way. You blinked a few times, opened your mouth, then closed it. What were you even going to say? ‘Sorry for wandering into your basement in the middle of a snowstorm?’ That would totally go over well.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. His voice was smooth and deep, and the implication that you needed to turn around and get back on the elevator flew right over your head as you shivered violently instead. He was probably right and you were likely breaking and entering, but your body was no longer listening to you, and your shivers continued right up into the teetering little step you took that had you crumpling to the floor, only to be caught by a gloved hand on your shoulder, a tempered measure of strength in the grip that now kept you upright for the moment.

“S-s-s-s-sorry,” was the only word you could push through chattering teeth, and then your chilled body gave out entirely, leaving the stranger to catch you with his other hand as well.

-

That didn’t even go a little bit according to plan. Vincent found himself first surprised, then confused, then annoyed in rapid succession at how the interaction had played out, and now the only semi-conscious intruder practically dangled from his grasp, a cold even he could feel seeping through his gloves that spoke of the weather outside likely being dreadful as it always was this time of year. A snowstorm would drive a person to seek shelter in the most rundown of buildings, but it didn’t explain why the intruder had used the elevator and chosen to come to the basement of all places. Curiosity, probably…

His lip wrinkled just a little at how thin the clothes before him seemed to be. Certainly not the kind of clothing that would help someone stay warm and dry - they looked sodden to him, and he had no doubt hypothermia would claim them if action wasn’t taken. Therein lay the crux of the matter.

Stop intruders, by force if necessary, and protect Shinra property. Those were his orders, generally speaking. In theory he had already stopped this intruder, or at least the weather had done most of the work for him. But… stop didn’t imply he had to kill, or let someone die for that matter. And someone so underprepared for something as easy to check as the weather probably wasn’t looking for data or valuables to steal. Probably just a very lost traveler.

His eyes roved again, the thin clothing before him doing little to hide the intruder’s figure. In the back of his mind an old drive stirred, forcing him to hastily cast his gaze away - without thinking about it, he turned with the intruder still in hand and started back towards his room. He would have to look and see if he had anything remotely suitable to replace such a sad outfit.

-

Dazed from the cold, just staying awake at the moment was a struggle, so you didn’t even have the energy to protest as you were suddenly carried off by the man - further into the basement? But he’d just said you should leave? Maybe he changed his mind.

The open space he carried you across was poorly lit and made you want to close your eyes all the way, but you forced yourself to keep them halfway open so you could at least figure out if he was taking you somewhere like a pit of spikes to toss you into. That would be a pretty ignominious end, and you’d like to at least be prepared to try and make a break for it if that was the case.

But instead it was into a room with warm, yellow light suffusing its interior, the doors hissing shut behind the man as he continued walking. Finally, he sat you on a hard surface of some kind, a table you thought as your legs were still dangling off the ground, and swept his eyes over you briefly before glancing away as if embarrassed. Right… your clothes were pretty wretched: soaking wet, icy cold, and plastered to your body like an attempt to win a wet T-shirt contest. His hands were still at your shoulders, and were definitely the only thing keeping you from falling over right now.

“You need to remove those clothes,” he spoke with that low velvet voice of his again, a brief clearing of his throat as if he wasn’t used to talking. “You will die of hypothermia otherwise.”

Right, that was a real risk. You managed a weak nod of your head, and thoughtlessly began trying to unbutton your shirt, though your numb, fumbling fingers could barely even hang onto the buttons to begin with. The man looked disgruntled as he glanced back to see your attempt, and then in one swift motion he batted your hands aside with his own, leaving the… was that a gauntlet? You hadn’t even noticed the golden armor clasped around his left hand before. It remained on your shoulder to keep you from falling while his right hand in a much simpler black glove deftly unbuttoned the shirt one-handed almost too briskly, like he was worried about the connotations of undressing a stranger out of the blue.

“Th-th-thanks,” you mumbled as coherently as you could muster.

Was it just you, or did he seem to hesitate just a second or two? The moment passed by too swiftly before he slid your shirt and jacket both off your shoulders, then stared at the bra before him in seeming consternation. It was definitely soggy and cold as well, but he appeared to be having a crisis of modesty at the moment.

“Just t-t-take it off.”

He started slightly at the words you managed to force out, and for a second you thought he might’ve started blushing before his hand slipped around behind and smoothly unhooked the back as if he’d done it a dozen times before. Maybe he had. Maybe this was his secret dungeon for luring in unlucky ghost hunters and lost travelers to seduce and ravish before killing them and eating the bodies for dinner.

Or maybe your cold-addled brain was just being absurd. Very high possibility.

His hand slipped the bra off your shoulders with carefully averted eyes and next dropped to your pants. While the button and fly were easy for his obvious dexterity, pulling off pants was clearly a two-handed job and he was hesitating again as if trying to determine the best course of action. You decided to try helping by prying your stiff arms from around your shoulders and grabbing the waistband, easy enough even with numb fingers. The man seemed briefly alarmed, the gauntleted hand gripping harder on your shoulder as if you might tip over at any moment, but then he seemed to change his mind suddenly and both of his hands fell to your waist, lifting you just enough to make the task of stripping that much quicker.

That was most of your clothes, pants pooling at your ankles; the man had mostly averted his gaze out of a clear sense of modesty, but he was kneeling now to deal with your equally crummy shoes, swiftly removing them and slipping your pants the rest of the way off before standing back up. You sat there shivering still, looking at him: he appeared to be desperately looking for what he ought to do next that didn’t involve looking at you. It would’ve been funny if you weren’t half-frozen and doing your best to stay conscious while naked in front of a stranger.

It seemed to click in his head then what he could do, right hand lifting to start undoing the buckles holding his worn red cloak in place, head still turned away from you. In just a few moments he had it off and was draping it over your shoulders, using his right hand to coax your own hands up in order to grab at the much warmer fabric. It wasn’t particularly soft, but compared to your clothes it was delightfully dry, warm and thick, and you immediately drew it in around you. There was a vague scent of dust to it, but also gunpowder, gun oil… something warm and musky, a heady kind of fragrance that you couldn’t resist as you buried your face against the tall collar encircling your head.

You glanced up at him - he was staring, and you finally noticed his eyes. Deep red, with a yellow ring around the left eye that seemed to glow, pulsing softly. Pretty…

-

Vincent realized it had been more than two decades since his last meaningful interaction with another person. And longer than that since he’d last seen so much bare skin that wasn’t his own (not that he could bear to look at himself for more than a few seconds, anyway). He wanted to tear his gaze away, think about anything other than how well his cloak fit over the body in front of him that continued shivering anyway, the eyes that were locked on his like they enjoyed the sight, weren’t even a little repulsed by the strangeness of him-

He turned away abruptly, unable to suppress the sudden heat and tightness in his guts. Too long since it wasn't a scientist's cold and calculating stare, or another experiment's fearful eyes on him. Too long since his dalliances among the Turks and later the long nights of pining for her, wishing it was her hands on him instead of his own.

Far too long. And the bestial side that he kept subdued with frequent sleep was rousing at his frustration, further fuel to his fire that he wished desperately to smother. He couldn’t do this right now, refused to think about indulging an appetite he'd quashed years ago under a mountain of guilt and self-loathing. He hadn’t thought himself capable of such a reaction anymore, but it wasn’t the first time he was wrong about something.

And the physical response remained, almost painful under tight leathers.

The intruder was half out of it from the cold anyway, a person like that wasn’t in their right mind, and he didn't need anything, didn't deserve it… even as his body was growing to want for it desperately. And that frustrated him more.

He needed a distraction, badly.

-

You watched the stranger turn away as if you had tried to bite him. It was kind of odd, the mixed actions from him like he couldn’t decide whether to help you or run away. But at least his cloak was holding in what body heat you had left, and the intensity of your shivering was slowly beginning to ease up.

He took a few steps away and your eyes focused on the rest of his body for the first time. Completely clad in black leather and golden metal, with a wild mane of black hair cascading down his back. Long, lanky, broad in the shoulders but thin everywhere else. Not a standard figure to cut, but it was easy on the eyes still. Every step he took further away clanked with the metal on his shoes, and the sway of his hips as he moved so effortlessly… wow, the cold really was getting to you, wasn’t it? Just because a stranger in a basement was kind of attractive.

Wait, was he just leaving you here? Oh, no, he was going over to a chest of some kind, opening it and rustling through the contents with a disgruntled sort of noise. Maybe looking for clothes? Or the torture implements, if he was actually secretly a serial killer cannibal. The idea was just as absurd as finding him attractive, anyway. Either way, he clearly couldn’t find what he was looking for, movements laced with agitation as he kept digging about before giving up with a sigh and closing the chest with a solid thunk. Either you were in luck, or out of it.

He turned back towards you, crimson eyes flickering over you for just a moment before he glanced aside - not much for eye contact, it seemed. “... You are still cold.”

Well. Duh. You limited your amusement to a forceful huff, and then found further amusement in the slight pout that tugged on his lips. Probably not a serial killer considering his lack of social skills, since they were supposed to be more charming on purpose. His charm seemed to be completely by accident instead, a slight hunch in his shoulders as he folded his arms over his chest.

“You may rest here until the weather calms. But you may not wander from this room.”

You nodded, deciding to take a chance on trying to stand up now that you felt marginally warmer with the man’s cloak draped around you. Your legs weren’t having it though - they gave out as soon as you started to put weight on them, and your arms refused to even try to catch yourself against the table.

But in an instant he was right in front of you, almost unnaturally fast in his reaction as he caught you by the waist with both hands. The claws of his gauntlet pricked at your skin, his hold just firm enough to keep you from falling but gentle enough to prevent injury. You blinked a few times, his face much closer to yours now, and felt your cheeks flushing almost painfully warm compared to how cold they’d been before. And even with leather gloves covering his hands, they still felt warmer than you were right now. Body heat was a good solution for warming up, wasn’t it? He didn’t seem like a terrible person thus far, all things considered, so the idea of cuddling up with him wasn’t offputting.

“I c-could use some help, with warming up,” you murmured into the space between you and him. He stiffened slightly in response, fingers tense on your sides. Your eyes on his face, his gaze kept avoiding you as if it might burn him to look.

“I could not find any spare clothes,” he admitted.

“D-don’t you have a bed, or s-something?” At least your teeth were slowly easing up on the chattering, though it still kept you stuttering over your words.

The man glanced at you for a moment, his face steadily growing pinker by the second - he really didn’t know what to do with a naked stranger, huh. Finally he straightened up, taking you right up with him effortlessly. All you could do was tighten your grip on the cloak so it wouldn’t fall off, a faint squeak as he began to walk like he was carrying a vase: light, but fragile. He was definitely much stronger than he looked.

You looked over your shoulder to see where he was taking you this time and found yourself staring in disbelief. Was that a coffin? And he was carrying you towards it like that was where he slept… oh no, it really was, wasn’t it? He came to a stop beside it, and in spite of your sudden look of alarm began lowering you down into the coffin, pausing only when you managed to pull a hand free of its clutch on his cloak to grab at his leather-clad arm instead. “W-w-wait, y-you don’t really sleep in this, do you?”

His head tilted, expression faintly curious. “I do.”

Probably not a serial killer… but the weirdness just kept coming, didn’t it? You glanced down at the coffin, unnerved by the idea of resting inside it.“Y-you’re not uh, gonna put the lid on it?”

“You would warm up faster with the lid in place,” he stated. You looked down again, then back at his face with clear disbelief.

“Body heat would probably be more effective.”

He quickly turned pink again, fingers digging into your sides for a moment before his grip eased; it only took a few seconds before he went right back to lowering you into the coffin, faster this time. You yelped as your legs met the red velvet cushioning at the bottom, still refusing to hold any weight the traitors that they were, and found yourself reclining onto your back until your head found the somewhat thin head pillow. Yeah, this was a real coffin for those instances when a body didn’t join the Lifestream quickly enough to avoid rotting, and apparently he slept in it. It smelled like dust, leather, gunpowder… but not death. Thank Bahamut for that.

You had yet to let go of his arm though, and as his hands began to withdraw you tightened your grasp, causing a furrow in his brow as he halted once more. “What now?”

“I don’t know what to call you…”

His brow furrowed as if he didn’t understand the question, though he sighed after a moment.

“Vincent Valentine… you may call me Vincent.”

-

He came to a compromise with the intruder and only partly closed the lid to avoid feeling trapped, but to still hold in more heat than the coffin would without its lid. It was also a relief to know that he would be able to hear the lid moving should his surprise guest try to get up at any point, though it didn’t alleviate his other issue.

That one being that he couldn’t get the thought of the naked form in his coffin, in his cloak, out of his head.

The want had yet to recede, restrained as it was by his waning self-control, and he did his best to ignore it next by taking apart his gun to clean it. All the intricate parts that fit together to make a weapon needed to come apart in just the right order, laid out precisely and methodically, and given careful attention to remove any dust or dirt that found its way inside. Oil was needed to lubricate the moving parts to avoid damage… uncharacteristic heat rose in his face as a wholly different set of moving parts and lubricant came to mind.

The barrel needed to be brushed out, but he only got a few strokes in before the action turned too sensual in his hands, too much of a reminder of what he wanted - maybe needed at this point, but certainly didn’t deserve. He had to set it aside, fists clenched as he glanced around for a less… accidentally erotic distraction. Nothing caught his eye.

So he stood up and began to pace instead, arms folded over his chest tightly as if it could help him bring mind and body both under control. But the comforting cover of his cloak wasn’t there to reassure him, nor could he retreat to slumber. It was just him, his thoughts, and a body that was betraying him with an unrelenting urge.

The faint scraping of wood informed him that his coffin was being opened, distracting him momentarily - it had only been a few minutes, certainly not enough time to warm up by any appreciable amount.

Forcing himself to unfold his arms and keep them loose at his side instead, he turned and felt the eyes on him too keenly, lust sharp and tight in his guts like razor wire. The collar of his cloak curled around the intruder’s head, the lip of the coffin obscuring what he knew was behind it below the exposed neck… knowing but not seeing was somehow more than he knew how to bear.

He began to approach.

-

You peered awkwardly from the coffin as the man - Vincent - walked towards you. Those eyes practically glowed as they stared at you, and the intensity of them pinned you in place like he was a predator stalking you. Which was ridiculous, really, if he had wanted to hurt you he would’ve done it already, rather than trying to prevent you from succumbing to hypothermia.

He stopped beside the coffin, looming. You craned your neck up, forgetting for a moment your lack of actual clothing before realizing he had a clear line of sight of your chest downwards from his position, which made you quickly draw his cloak closed around you. The warm, heady scent of him tickled your nose again, and if you were warmer you’d probably be blushing. As it was, you tried not to look too pathetic peering up at him from his unorthodox bed.

“I’m getting colder I think,” you admitted with a faint voice. The shivering had stopped, yes, but you still felt undeniably cold and the mostly closed coffin could only do so much when it wasn’t very warm to begin with.

Vincent continued staring, then tore his gaze away abruptly. You finally noticed the warm red creeping over his cheeks - a very modest person apparently. But you were well past your own modesty at this point, not having to make much of an effort to actually look more pathetic as you looked up at him.

It took a minute, but he finally exhaled a deep breath through his nose and took a final, reticent step closer before leaning down to push the coffin lid back a little further. You quickly scooted up against the far side of the coffin to give him room. The way he stepped in and sat himself down was… undeniably awkward, and he avoided looking directly at you aside from a few cautious glances to ensure he wasn’t laying himself down atop the cloak and denying you any of the fabric’s coverage.

Slowly, his shoulders and head came to rest on the velvet cushioning, and seemingly out of habit he drew his arms up to cross over his chest. He even rested like a dead person would in a coffin… stiff and almost entirely motionless save for the faintest shift of his chest like he hardly needed to breathe.

After a beat of silence, you tentatively shifted closer. He had closed his eyes, yet somehow you still felt his attention on you, intensely so. It was as if every sound and movement was honed in on, and the feeling made you nervous about closing the distance to at least try and absorb whatever warmth this man gave off. Thin as he was it probably wasn’t much, but it would beat dying of the cold.

He opened one eye to look directly at you, and in response you fell still, trying to understand why your heart was beginning to pound in your chest. It helped you feel a bit warmer at least…

-

He couldn’t get his mind off the body beside him, and the aching, painful desire taking its toll on his innards. Setting himself with his right side closer to the intruder made it less likely he’d cause any accidental scratches with his gauntlet, but that that also meant one less layer of protection between him and his guest. Not that he needed the protection really, but… he was struggling all the more without some way of maintaining personal space.

After staring for a moment that had to be uncomfortable, he sighed and uncrossed his arms, lifting the right up enough to make room at his side for a body to fit.

The intruder’s body was a bit cooler than his own but already he felt the tension in his guts spike, too keenly aware of the minimal barrier that his cloak provided between his leathers and the otherwise naked form. The leather itself dulled things, but even then - the last time he’d purposely allowed someone in his personal space like this… was something he shouldn’t be thinking about with a stranger, no matter how well they fit up against his lanky, uncomfortable body like they belonged there. Like they wanted to be there, even if it was just because of the chill wracking them and not because of him.

Better to be used for this than pushed away with horror and fear.

He slowly brought his arm down around their shoulders. That there was a lack of shivering was concerning, a sign that their core temperature was dropping dangerously. He wasn’t a particularly warm person, but he could assist in sharing what he had, and using friction to create some warmth as well. His hand started to rub over their upper arm, slow at first as not to startle them, then briskly to generate heat with the gesture.

The pleased sigh they heaved was more than enough to remind his body of its wants.

He slowed, then halted the movement of his hand, uncomfortably stiff now, but he seemed to have given them some sort of reassurance with the small gesture. Their head came to rest just below his shoulder, and though he remained still as a statue, they seemed unbothered and even shivered some. Good, their temperature was coming back up, then. As long as he didn’t have to do anything else… he could tolerate this. He could ignore his body, close his eyes, and let sleep creep over him again, as it always did.

-

Slowly, you felt warmth returning to you. Sure, Vincent wasn’t a very warm person, but anything was better than nothing. The shivers coming back helped too, until finally they eased up again and you could begin to feel your fingers and toes tingling painfully. Ouch, frostnip… but better that than the bite and losing them. You found yourself following his example after a while, dozing lightly to the relatively slow rise and fall of his chest.

At some point you shifted yourself up on top of him to better pillow your head on his chest, and sleepily realized there was no heartbeat - just a soft, steady hum from within that still comforted you somehow. Another weird thing about a basement dwelling man who already seemed pretty weird.

His arm had shifted too, from your shoulders down to your waist - underneath the cloak. It brought a warmth to your face that you couldn’t suppress, a blush that only worsened as you gained further awareness of your position on him and how your legs had settled: one drooping down beside his hip, and the other nestled between his. And that left your thigh pressed down against the unmistakable bulge in his pants, leather tight across in what had to be a painful amount of pressure. Was he awake yet? It didn't seem like it, but you didn't have a heartbeat to guess with and his breathing was abnormally slow.

You tried to sit up, and the motion caused your thigh to press down harder. In response, a deep, quiet groan slid from him as his arm tightened its grasp on you, and a thrill rushed through you in spite of your returning common sense. He was strange… but undeniably handsome, and probably pent-up if he never left this basement most of the time. And maybe you were a little lonely yourself.

There were better options out there, but none of them were lying beneath you and holding you tightly. Nor were they peering down at you with crimson eyes, one of them glowing and pinning you in place with a near predatory stare.Shiva help you, lying in a coffin on a stranger, in the basement of an apparently abandoned mansion. This just might turn out to be one of the strangest encounters you've ever had.

The tension built under the silence, rising heat trapped beneath the cool barrier of unfamiliarity.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to break the silence - and found yourself pulled up roughly to meet his mouth instead, lips and teeth a discordant clash at first that drew a muffled yelp from you before his tongue dipped inside. His arm squeezed you closer, almost squeezed the breath out of you before his grasp loosened and his hand slid down from waist to hip and from there to your ass for a firm grope. Despite still floundering for a proper reaction you couldn’t help moaning into his mouth, hands fumbling to grab onto some part of him to either anchor yourself or maybe push back and try to untangle from this new complication.

But you didn’t get the chance, as the arm he’d kept out of play until now rose and snagged first one wrist and then the other faster than most people would be able to react to, surprisingly delicate in spite of the sharp tips of the gauntlet he was wearing. He drew them up over your head smoothly, the stretch in your shoulders prompting a whine that went unheeded. Instead he was busy still devouring you, while one of his legs nudged between yours to press his thigh up against you. That drew another moan as the leather rubbed along your slit enticingly. Fuck, this was definitely spiraling out of your control.

In a smooth movement his leg hooked around one of yours and used the leverage to roll both of you over - it reminded you very abruptly that you were in fact lying in a coffin as your shoulder brushed along the velvet trimmed side and your back met the barely cushioned bottom, his cloak crumpling off beside you in the process. Before you’d been too cold to have any qualms about being naked in front of a stranger, but now you were warm again and naked underneath a stranger whose mouth was still hungry on yours like he hadn’t had contact like this in literal years… shit, you’d be frustrated too in that position. It’s not like you’re fighting him anyway.

He still had your hands trapped over your head, giving you no chance to touch him in return as his right hand gave your ass one more squeeze before roaming upward, dragging over your side and up onto a breast to massage it beneath his palm. His fingers were elegantly long and seemed to know exactly what they were doing, evoking a muffled whimper as they worked over the soft tissue.

Finally Vincent broke away from the kiss, watching as you heaved for breath beneath him, face flushed and lips tender from his hunger. The yellow ring in his left eye was glowing brightly and the way his hair fell left most of his face in shadow, expression hard to read. Maybe he was having second thoughts now.

You had made up your mind at this point, though - you kept the momentum of the moment by arching your body up against him, heedless of the belt buckles and buttons that pressed into your skin in order to meet hips with him. There was that tight bulge again, and rubbing up into him rewarded you with a quiet groan from those plush lips that had proven to be very kissable. It made him drop down against you for more friction, hips rolling into you needily while his head lowered itself to your neck.It took a moment but his mouth pressed over your pulse, fluttering wildly for him to feel, and a low hum vibrated against your skin. You let out a soft whine in response and tilted your head back for him. He took the gesture for the invitation it was and set to drawing lips and teeth along your throat, kissing and nipping sharply enough to make you gasp, hands flexing uselessly where they remain trapped in his hold.

His tongue darted across your skin next, cool and teasing against warm skin. You couldn’t help wondering what that would feel like further down your body, tracing over your chest or down your stomach, slipping between your lips… the scrape of his teeth brought you back to the moment and drew a breathy moan from you.

Again, his movements were faster than you could track and with a few deft motions you were flipped over onto your stomach. You squirmed but your wrists remained pinned, though his body rested atop yours surprisingly lightly - either he was holding up some of his weight, or he just didn’t weigh that much. His hips still rocked down against you, bulge working against your ass with slow, heavy strokes that made you press up against him with another whine, missing the friction you’d been enjoying just moments ago.

“Be patient.” His voice was ragged with need but held a commanding measure to it that you decided not to test, dropping back down against the thin velvet beneath you. Right, still in a coffin. Bahamut help you since Shiva hadn’t done a thing so far.

His right hand drew down your side again, lingered on your hip briefly while he rutted against you, then slid further down and over the back of your thigh in a near caress that made you shiver before his fingers dipped between your legs and brushed the leather-clad tips along your damp slit. Just that little touch made you want to feel those fingers pressed deep inside you, breath hitching as he rubbed them there briefly before his hand abruptly withdrew. His chest rested against your back a little more firmly now, a shift of his head sending his messy hair cascading down beside your head, and then his voice was right there in your ear, deep and rich and sending another shudder through you.

“You’re truly aroused by this?”

Though he seemed to be trying for sultry, it mostly came out disbelieving - not that you could blame him for being confused by a stranger being turned on by all of this. Maybe the cold was still affecting you?

It didn’t matter, you decided, your response coming out as a single breathless, “Yeah…”

He paused in his grinding, as if trying to absorb that one word. You probably would’ve done the same in his position, but being on the other side just made you wish he’d get back to the action.

You decided to bring him back to the moment this time by lifting your hips to grind up against his crotch and tugging at your wrists as if to pull free of his grasp. That seemed to do the trick, provoking a groan that was half growl - the sound was deep enough to vibrate in your chest and made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, as if hearing a predator rather than a man. But it was undeniably hot too, even more so as he pressed his mouth to the side of your neck with teeth already nipping at you again as if to scold you for trying to free your hands. You gave him a little whine in response and settled back down, moaning as his hand found its way back between your legs and began rubbing firmly this time; he seemed to have found some confidence in your reactions to him, as now his fingers slid between your folds and pulled a gasp from you next when they pressed on either side of your clit with a slight pinch.

“Fuck-!” You muffled your curse in the thin pillow beneath you, and he huffed his amusement out in a cool breath along your neck that made your skin prickle.

“Not quite,” he responded, and you started to groan only to yelp as his fingers deftly circled your clit. The sudden jolt of pleasure had your legs twitching and hips jerking at his touch, shoulders pressing up into his chest and finding him unmoving. In spite of his thin frame he seemed to be surprisingly strong, keeping you pinned rather effortlessly with just one hand and the length of his body over yours while his hand began working along your now aching cunt. The leather of his glove was slick with your juices and slipped back and forth with little resistance, and the texture gave just enough extra stimulation that you were already squirming under him, whimpers collecting in your throat before he teased them out of you with his mouth on your skin.

And then just as quickly as he’d started he stopped, pulling his hand away once more. This time you reacted with a petulant whine, but another quiet growl of his kept you from any further brattiness, just impatiently shifting your hips beneath him. His hips lifted up enough that you could just feel the back of his hand brushing over your ass while he fumbled with his belt - it was his turn to curse quietly now, and you couldn’t help the little snicker that escaped you, even as it got him to nip you in retort.

In short order though he made it past his belt, the button and fly of his pants, and lastly the comparatively thin fabric of his underwear to free himself from such painfully tight confines. That had to be a massive relief, if the sigh that rushed out by your ear was anything to go by; his cock came to rest against your ass, warm and twitching with obvious need.Your own sudden need to have it buried inside you was already flooding your face with embarrassed heat.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to that at the moment, his hand brushing your skin again as he rubbed the slick-covered leather along his shaft with just a few strokes. Not much for prep, apparently, or he really was just that pent-up - he shifted enough to slip his dick off the curve of your ass and between your legs, only sliding himself along the wet mess of your folds a few times with a low groan before angling his hips and using his fingers to line himself up with your opening.

“C’mon,” you whined. His only response was a grunt that sounded vaguely annoyed, and then he began to push inside.

Without any stretching out beforehand the blunt press of his head into you came with a stinging that made you gasp, but fuck if it didn’t feel good too, the needy throb of your cunt easing a little as he stretched it open steadily. His body was tense on top of you like all of his concentration was on going slowly right now, but you didn’t want slow - you needed him to start fucking you like he meant it.

You pressed your knees and chest down against the velvet padding and pushed yourself up onto his cock as quickly as you could manage, a pleased cry falling from your mouth. At the same time he gasped against your neck and bit down hard enough for just a moment that you thought it felt like he had fangs before he abruptly let go, a louder growl from him making you shudder. You didn’t want to hear anything he might have to say though, clenching down on him and drawing a moan from his throat that only made you feel all the more desperate to get fucked senseless.

“You-” His voice was choked, torn between irritation and pure lust.

“Fuck me already,” you huffed, bucking your hips sharply.

That seemed to kill any hesitation left in him. He gave one more growl, but his hand latched onto your hip to hold you still while his hips began to snap into you needily. What else was this if not an outlet for two pent-up strangers in unusual circumstances? It didn’t need to be tender and you didn’t want him to go slow, writhing in his grasp to try and meet the demanding thrusts with equal fervor, feeling a sweat start to build up where his leathers rested against you. There was something absurd about being utterly naked while he was fully clothed save for his cock burying itself in your pussy, the way leather slapped against bare skin and the buttons of his shirt pressed down against your back. All of the control was really his, but you’d allowed him to take it without a fight even after common sense returned. You’d have to unpack all of that later.

(Bahamut hadn’t helped either by now. Ifrit, maybe? You only had so many choices to ask.)

He clearly wasn’t going to let you spend much time thinking about it right now, spending a brief moment shifting up and bringing your hips along until your knees could support you, then resuming his brutal pace. Somewhere along the way his left hand slipped off your wrists and found its way to your hip as well, sharp tips pricking your skin while his forehead came to rest on the pillow beside your head. You kept your arms stretched out simply because they felt locked in place right now, daring a glance at his face. Eyes screwed shut tightly, breaths huffing through those pretty lips, cheeks flushed from exertion, hair sprawling everywhere - he was fucking gorgeous.

His right hand fumbled off its perch as his thrusts began to grow even more frantic, slipping by your thigh to drag his palm over your clit. The friction was just what you needed, crying out again and jerking into his hand as best you could between the sharp thrusts that soon stuttered to a halt. A deep, satisfied groan rolled from his throat and made you all the more desperate to join him, rutting against damp leather a few more times before your own climax crashed through you. The feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock drew another moan from him, his hips twitching downward to ensure he was as deep in your cunt as he could get with each gush of cum.

That was something else you’d have to unpack later, but for now it was just a primal bliss to feel full with his weight draped along your back and dick throbbing inside you, the heat of the moment starting to fade as you both relaxed. You could feel him growing soft and after a few moments he pulled out of you with a quiet grunt, arching himself up off your body so he could go to the effort of tucking himself away before drooping right back down on top of you.

In response you let yourself slide off your knees to stretch back out on your stomach, hissing softly as your clit came into contact with the velvet padding. That seemed to rouse him a little from his afterglow, slipping off beside you and using his right hand to roll you onto your side with your back to his chest again, a position that made it only slightly less painful to bring your arms down to your sides finally, cringing with pain all the while. He - Vincent, seemed to realize what the issue was, hesitating a few moments before his hand came up to rub along your shoulder carefully, like he was apologizing. The leather of his glove was sticky with your drying slick by now, but it was still nice in a way.

“The storm will clear off by the morning,” he murmured, startling you for a moment before you nodded a little. “Go back to sleep.”

His hand left its self-appointed job for a moment, then returned with the draping of fabric over your bodies; his cloak was just as pleasant to be covered by as last time, though this time it also carried the unmistakable musky scent of exertion and sex. It certainly warmed you up again.

“Good night,” you whispered tentatively.

He just hummed. You closed your eyes, pretending not to notice the way his arm curled around your waist, and let yourself doze off again. Thinking could wait until the morning.

[getvalentined]

I love people going "Elena can't be 18 because she's at the bar in Junon," as if:

A fictional sci-fantasy world from a Japanese game must follow the same laws about drinking age as the United States, and

The Turks, who are literally the black ops team for the most powerful governing body in the world, who kidnap and kill people on the reg and literally flattened 12.5% of the largest city on the planet with no risk of legal repercussions, would not be essentially exempt from the majority of laws anyway.

Sephiroth was dispatched to take command in Rhadore at 14. Cloud left home to enlist in the military at 13. Cissnei was scouted to be a Turk around the same age from a Shinra-controlled orphanage where she was brought up to be a child soldier. Zack was deployed to run a portion of a war-ending assault on his own when he was 16.

Why is drinking at 18, something that is legal and normal in the vast majority of the real world, the thing that breaks anyone's suspension of disbelief on character ages here?

[wawawawawawawawawawawawawa]

the amount of times i Do This must be a joke at this point but here i am. doing it once more. izaya's highschool videogame SCREAMS "i just found out i have aspd and i am NOT taking it well." and i shall explain how

a preface: wrt "how did he know in high school, don't you have to be 18?" you do.... with the dsm guidelines. japan, iirc, uses a conbination of the dsm and icd to diagnose mental illnesses, and the age stipulation isn't in the icd. also, shinra could have told him, and lbr shinra wouldnt care about strictly adhering to the age thing

anyway i went thru and highlighted different parts of the videogame's text, so i can easier explain which part means what. i'll primarily be focusing on the chronic boredom associated with aspd- since izaya's game deals with patience, most musings in it will be related to that boredom. but the boredom, especially izaya's, IS important, as its the boredom that drives him to do what he does. to be what he is.

(shoutout to miyukiwinter for the scan)

so... the red bit. this relates to izaya's worldview of the need to keep evolving to escape the mundane, and it not mattering if you aim high or low. now at this point, izaya was solidly in some shady shit and clearly on the path of the low aim. but the thing is, about aspd... the boredom is all consuming. you'll do ANYTHING to not be bored. i've seen people say they developed substance abuse problems to escape the boredom, and i confess... i've done it too. it truly is THAT bad

i say all this because... izaya will never be able to stop going lower, and lower, and lower. he's fated to fall forever. maybe he wouldve been able to brush his behavior off as teenage craziness, but with a diagnosis like aspd it becomes increadingly obvious that there is no "oh, i'll mellow out once i reach my 20s." it's not going to happen, at least, not without great effort. and lets be real, nobody has any faith in aspd's recovery rates, less so in the early 2010s, so izaya upon diagnosis would see NO FUTURE for himself. no escape from the cycle. he's trapped.

the blue bits are a bit more vauge, but the undertainty turning to loss evokes the next stage after the initial shock of diagnosis: grief. and make no mistake, there IS a grieving process with mental health diagnoses. you go from being shocked and scared, to being depressed and numb.

but there's... another layer to this, with aspd. you see it with cluster b disorders in general, but aspd is HUGE in the pop culture zeitgeist

the layer is, the idea that People Like That don't feel emotions. that any emotional display is false and an explicit ploy to mainpulate someone

and when this inevitably ends up untrue, you might start to feel... odd... about feeling those emotions people say you can't feel. and one of the biggest emotions aspd gets that with, is fear and by extension, anxiety.

some aspd people genuinely do feel reduced fear! but it's far from being a diagnostic criteria, and aspd can actually be comorbid with anxiety disorders. but scientific facts and wider culture rarely match up, so the idea persists

so izaya might have started to think.... was he ever truly anxious? or worried? was he really more rotten than people thought; was he just mainpulating people the whole time? does he really not feel anxiety? was his nervousness over things like shinra leaving him or hell, this diagnosis, rendered null and void?

and then we reach the teal portion.... despair

(just a sidenote, tumblr has no teal color option so it'll just be blue)

in this sense, "the hole" refers to the endless downward spiral, and his diagnosis- but not just having it. no, "the hole" most likely refers to the moment izaya developed it in the first place.

who are you, if you thought you were in control your whole life, but you found out that the reason you do the things you do were because of foeces beyond your control? who are you now, having a label you know will cause everyone to see you as nothing but a stereotype?

why was he still alive, suffering like this? what point is it to be alive, controlled by something you can't fight, forced to make your life worse and worse and worse, until you die young?

so now what? who did this to him?

in the game, the hatred is towards "the player." and honestly this could have multiple different meanings when applied to izaya's own life

does he hate god? was he raised religious, his father being a christian, and was this what made him lose faith? what loving god would condemn someone to suffer like this?

does he hate his parents? after all, it was their genetics that passed this down, their upbringing that nurtured it, their neglect that made him the way he was. is it their fault?

or... does he hate himself, for being the way that he is? for having it in the first place, for not being able to overcome it, for having such a bad reaction to it?

for being too cowardly to kill himself?

which brings us to the final segment. awareness.

he says outright, the game is depicting the player's life. in the game itself, this ties into his mockery of players, but in a meta sense, it could be a hidden admission that it's depicting his life

especially the talk of meaningless games- fooling around with nakura creating small gangs, betting pools, and his eventual adult pastimes of messing with people. is his life enriched? no, it's merely occupied, and he knows it. he might have repressed it as an adult, but here, in high school, at this moment, he knows.

and if he can never truly alleviate his boredom, never truly be fufilled, then he can act like he's in control all he wants, but he's no better than a man falling in a hole.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Went to a casino recently soooo

What do the Firsts do at the casino + cloud?

The Casino Trip From Hell

• A huge Shinra-funded casino opens up in the slums. Genesis, being the patron saint of hedonism he is, drags Sephiroth and Angeal along with him.

• Angeal isn't into the whole gambling scene, so he's more than apprehensive about being in that environment. Sephiroth thinks casino's are a gross display of greed, but he goes anyway.

• They arrive at the entrance and who do they see? Zack and Cloud, both bearing fake IDs and ridiculous fake mustaches. (They're 19 and 18 respectively but in Midgar you have to be 21).

• After Angeal rips them a new one, Genesis gets tired of waiting and convinces Angeal to just let the boys be boys and commit a little crime for once, as a treat.

• Angeal caves, but only because Zack is begging on his knees and people are staring.

• He appoints Sephiroth as the responsible adult in charge of babysitting Zack and Cloud.

• His logic is "What trouble could Sephiroth, Zack and Cloud get up to? Besides, I'm babysitting Genesis."

• He would come to regret that decision.

• Genesis drags Angeal over to the roulette tables declaring himself a master at gambling, having seen his parents dabble in it since he was a child.

• Meanwhile Zack is buzzing with excitement! After touring the casino with Cloud and Sephiroth, they finally settled down at the slot machines.

• Sephiroth is curious to know how the machines work, and after much deliberation (and being egged on by Zack and Cloud), decides to try it out for himself.

• Sephiroth hits the jackpot the first try.

• Back at the Roulette table, Angeal and Genesis run into none other than *drumroll* Rufus ShinRa.

• Genesis and Rufus make eye contact. Angeal's internal dialogue is a series of oh no's.

• They make some trash small talk before the game starts. Angeal orders a drink and decides to sit this one out.

• Back at the slot machines, Sephiroth somehow hits the jackpot again. Zack and Cloud are causing a ruckus and they whoop and cheer. A small crowd starts to form around Sephiroth, who's extremely confused.

• Back at the roulette table, they're about 20 minutes into it. Genesis is losing pathetically. Rufus is smug about it, stating that luck must me on his side if the undefeatable Genesis Rhapsodos is completely devoid of it.

• Genesis then declares that Rufus is cheating.

• This starts an argument, with Genesis demanding that Rufus forfeit, and questioning his morals "as a man."

• Angeal is drinking faster.

• Back at the slot machines, Sephiroth is on his fourth jackpot.

• Zack has never been more excited in his life. He's jumping up and down, declaring Sephiroth as the slot machine demons. Cloud is growing weary of the crowd watching them, especially the angry onlookers.

• Sephiroth is confused because "Is this not normal?"

Cloud: NOT IT'S NOT NORMAL. HOW THE HELL ARE YOU DOING THAT?

• Sephiroth proceeds to hit the jackpot for a fifth time.

Cloud: Sephiroth stop playing.

Sephiroth: But I'm winning?

Cloud: Yes but there's clearly something wrong with the machine and we're going to be arrested if you don't stop now.

Zack: Let him play! He's just lucky! Look, will it make you feel better if we switch machines?

• They move onto another machine. The crowd takes over the previous one like vultures, but no one hits the jackpot.

• Meanwhile Sephiroth hits the jackpot again on the new machine.

Cloud: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Zack: M O N E Y

Sephiroth: ???????

• Back at the roulette table, Genesis and Rufus's argument has escalated into full blown trash talk.

Rufus: Oh I'm sorry, Commander, does my mere existence bruise your ego?

Genesis: Let me tell you what I'm gonna bruise, pal—

Angeal (drunk): Genesis please don't threaten our boss's son.

Rufus: No, no, it's fine, Commander Hewley. I'm unbothered by threats from a man who wears mascara.

Genesis: YOU'RE WEARING A FUCKING SKIRT.

• Back at the slot machine, Sephiroth has hit the jackpot for the 10th time. People are rioting around them and screaming for security.

• Zack is cussing out the indignant onlookers and defending Sephiroth. Cloud is begging Sephiroth to stop playing. Sephiroth casually hits the jackpot for the 11th time.

• Back at the roulette table, Genesis and Rufus are on the floor fist-fighting. Angeal isn't even making an effort to intervene. He's so tired, he's just cheering them on.

Angeal: YEAH, RUFUS PULL HIS HAIR. CALL HIM GENEVIEVE. HE HATES IT WHEN—OOH, RIGHT IN THE SPLEEN! GET HIS ASS, GENESIS! SIT ON HIM!

• Back at the slot machines, security has shown up. They think Sephiroth is cheating, therefore stealing. Cloud is desperately trying to reason with them, explaining that Sephiroth is just naturally lucky and would never dream of stealing anything.

• Meanwhile Zack is arguing with the crowd and Sephiroth, bored, turns around and hits the jackpot again.

• Back at the roulette table, security has shown up with Tseng to separate the two. Tseng demands to know what happened, and after Angeal explains the whole thing to him, he proceeds to go on a rant about how Genesis is an irresponsible, petulant man who shouldn't be allowed within 3 feet of other people.

• This angers a drunk Angeal, who then declares that "NO ONE TALKS ABOUT MY BEST FRIEND LIKE THAT" and punches Tseng in the face.

• Angeal and Tseng are now on the floor fighting.

• Back at the slot machines, the police show up and arrest Sephiroth, Zack and Cloud. Sephiroth is unbothered by this because he knows this is all a misunderstanding. Cloud is panicking, trying to tell the cops that he's not, in fact, the mastermind behind the whole operation, as Sephiroth jokingly declared.

• The cops are trying to catch Zack, who broke free from his restraints and is running around the slot machines screaming "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE."

• Sephiroth, Angeal, Genesis, Zack and Cloud are all sitting in Director Lazard's office. Lazard is so angry, he's mute—red in the face with a vein popping on his forehead, but mute.

• One by one, Lazard fills the uncomfortable silence with angry thwacks of newspaper against the desk.

• Each newspaper has some variation of the same headlines.

• SHINRA VS RHAPSODOS: WHO WON?

• SEPHIROTH INVOLVED IN GAMBLING SCANDAL (STOLE THOUSANDS)

• WILD NIGHT OUT FOR SOLDIER'S 1ST CLASS TRIO.

Lazard: I have had it up to here with the five of you. What do you have to say for yourselves?

Angeal:

Genesis:

Zack:

Cloud:

Sephiroth: And I'll do it again.

Lazard: GET OUT!

[sephirthoughts]

for char/hc ask game. providing a couple options, feel free to just pick your favorite!

Vincent Valentine - 8, 16

Nero the Sable - 18, 21

yayyy thank you for the ask, i love doing these!! i pick all of them they're all my favorite

Vincent Valentine

-8- smell/personal scent:

i have very specific and detailed headcanons about the way that Vincent smells (gasp). i don't think we have reason to believe he sweats or produces much personal body odor, since he's an indestructible undead shapeshifting monster —however— his hair grows. so maybe some of his body functions are normal. who knows. also, his training as a turk likely taught him some scent masking, so he might not have any particular smell, but that was a long time ago and he really has no reason to practice that now. anyway i like to think he does have a distinctive personal scent

Mahogany. This just plain has to be an element of his scent profile. He spent decades sleeping in a coffin, of which one of the most common materials is mahogany. Also, the coffin Vincent uses in the Shinra Manor basement just looks like mahogany. Mahogany has a deep, woodsy, slightly spicy scent. Kind of perfect for Vincent.

Leather: He is covered head to toe in armor constructed of several different kinds of leathers there is no way he doesn't smell like it. That also happens to be a very sexy scent, so good job Vincent.

Old books: He's been holed up in the Shinra basement for decades, and there is a lot of evidence he's been actually living down there, not just comatose in the coffin. There is literally nothing else but a huge library, packed with old books. Don't tell me he hasn't wandered in there and whiled away countless hours reading them.

Pipe tobacco: Unexplained. We have never seen him smoke a pipe but no one can prove he doesn't. Also before you say yuck, pipe tobacco is an ENTIRELY different scent from cigarettes and even cigars. it's very aromatic and mellow and sweet. A highly attractive masculine scent.

Petrichor: He lives in a basement full of wet rocks.

Blood: Dependent upon how recently he's been in battle.

Gunpowder: Same as above.

Bourbon and cigarette smoke: Dependent on whether or not he's been hanging around with Cid.

Conclusion: Vincent possesses the sexiest personal scent imaginable.

Vincent's coffin for reference

-16- home/place that they live:

You're never going to believe this, I have a bunch of headcanons about this, too.

We all know about the Shinra Manor basement, but he wasn't born there and stops living there when he gets picked up by Cloud's crew. In Dirge of Cerberus, we see him in a room, in Kalm, that looks very lived in (bottles of wine, etc.), so it's clear he's staying there. I prefer to think this is some sort of inn or extended stay situation. Vincent doesn't actually strike me as the kind of person who maintains a fixed abode, long-term. if he had someone important enough to him, however, he'd be perfectly happy to make a home with that person/people. It's just not something he seeks out for himself

Now, hear me out, I HC that Vincent's vampirey habits and aesthetic have nothing to do with him having become a monster. He already had pale skin and red eyes, before he was undead—he just looks like that. Lucrecia even mentions how much he resembles his father GRIMOIRE who also dressed and looked just like a vampire, for no explainable reason except that he wants to and no one can stop him. I believe this is just the Valentine family aesthetic. They're weird people. Vincent only wore a suit in the Turks because that was required dress code. Red capes, pointy armor and black leather are his comfy clothes. What does this have to do with home/place of residence? The Valentine family home. I very strongly HC the Valentine family as being from Old Money. Like, the old-world, 1200 years of ancestors buried in catacombs on the premises, kind of Old Money. And by premises, I mean the sprawling grounds of the massive, gothic-horror style mansion that is the Valentine ancestral castle. Do I think Vincent lives there currently? Almost certainly not, and he probably avoids visiting, too, because of painful memories. If one knows anything about the way hereditary lands and estates (in Europe) traditionally work, though, they are a business unto themselves, and such a property would have many dedicated caretakers and staff, usually offer tours of the property as a historical site, and generate its own income, without much interference from the owners. Thus the Valentine family home, huge and dark and creepy and amazing and perfect as it is, would be respectfully maintained by the loyal staff, in the event that the Valentine heir shows up any time and wants to skulk around like Dracula frightening away tourists. This is very likely the reason Vincent chose a coffin in a creepy basement for his self imposed exile, and also why he really seems to like the haunted hotel. It's just like home!

the Valentine family castle probably

Onward!

Nero the Sable

-18- beloved or important items or property:

This is a tough one, because Nero was born and raised in Deepground, and likely had very few pieces of personal property. He probably learned very early to never become attached to things, because they could and would be taken away at the whims of the people in charge. However, he keeps one thing that is deeply important to him, and if anyone dared to touch it they'd never even know how they died.

This precious item is a picture Weiss drew of them together, on the back of a pilfered prescription slip from the medical ward, when Weiss was eight and Nero was six. They weren't allowed art supplies or other such frivolous items as children, so that's the closest they got. the lines are wobbly and childish and the heads are a bit wonky and out of proportion, but to Nero, it is the greatest work of art the world has ever produced. He treasures this above all things and always has it with him, tucked safely away in a little pocket of darkness.

-21- fears:

Nero is a scary motherfucker. He commands people-eating darkness tentacles, he can suck out your soul and make your corpse into a puppet to fight for him, and he has huge metal wings with knives on the ends. Nero hates human beings for their cruelty and cares for nothing but his brother, who he calls the only person who loves him and the only one he'll ever love, so it stands to reason that his greatest fear would be losing him or harm coming to him. This is evidenced by...literally every word out of his mouth. I think that deep down, Nero fears being alone. Not that he likes being around people (he literally hates it) it's that there is a bone-deep sense of loss and emptiness in him, that he was born with and he can never seem to escape, and when his darkness voraciously consumes souls, it's an unconscious to attempt to fill that emptiness. But when he's with his brother, the emptiness goes away. They seem to share a psychic bond, too, so even when they're not physically in the same location, the two are 'together'. The only way Nero could truly be alone would be if Weiss were to be taken from him. So it's no wonder he mobilized all of Deepground to try and revive him, when he was in that deathlike state. Only to be betrayed by Hojo of course, who tricked him by saying he could revive Weiss because he wanted to steal Weiss' body. Hojo you stupid bastard I just got fuckin mad at you all over again.

Here's a picture of Weiss smiling probably about something evil to cheer us back up.

[drrr-emporium]

What to do if Durarara over

I'm going to assume you've finished the anime and have not gone into anything else Naritaverse wise

So! You can read the novels. Since they're officially licensed by yen press, you can buy the soft cover books or get them as an ebook / kindle from barnes and noble or amazon. I don't really endorse this but I'm sure if you do enough digging around you can find old, still available, free translations like anni_fiesta who did a lot of translating back in the day. Here's the link to their Index of Translation. I still use it since it's the only place I know that has the white day story translated and it's one of my favorites (For Kadota Related reasons haha), plus a couple of other side stories.

(I think the internet archives have the novels if you do some poking around but for Narita Please Write SH 5 reasons, I'll ask you to dig those up lmao)

Speaking of Side stories, Kazinha-726 translated a bunch of drrr side stories But since they haven't updated in a while, you need to change the links from kaedesan721 to their new URL kazinha-726. I'll directly link what you need here

Izaya Spin Off Translations I don't think these are officially licensed for translation so it's fine for me to link. This is the story of Izaya now that he's been forced out of Ikebukuro, and there's two books as of writing this.

Durarara Gaidens It's some gaidens, but It's also a handful of translated convos from 3 way stand of alley relay, the links use that kaedesan721 link, so while I won't be fixing all those links for you, I can at least link the tag for all of them here. you can probably find audio for this game on youtube, though I'm not sure anyone's like.... fully translated? perhaps? Which ALSO reminds me of the relay manga

Durarara Epitome of Eighteen Histories Written along side the release of season 2, we've got some stories involving Kazane Kinomiya, who's the half sister of Shinra, and a reporter. They have all 18 listed there nicely EXCEPT the Erika and Walker Link is a little messed up, and if you search through the posts you can get to it but anyway here's the link to that story specifically

DRRR x Hakata Tonkatsu Ramens Actually I haven't seen HTR or read it so I can't really tell you about this one but if you're into that series--

There's ALSO MiniDura which are little gag comics of the durarara cast in chibis! there should be 4 books as of me writing this. Godspeed on finding translations they seem to be around.... but this post is long and I'm scared of losing it so I'll update later on how many chapters there are so you don't miss any, though I'm seeing up to 10 in my cursory search.

Shizuo, Izaya, and Celty are also in uh.... Dengeki Bunko's fighting Climax, which you might be able to find some stuff on on youtube. but since it's Dengeki Bunko you also have other series... I can only remember A Certain Magical Index / A Certain Scientific Railgun / the other titles in this series as being part of it whoops.

So you've done all that, what do you do next?

Well Narita has other series, like Baccano! which had an anime before DRRR did, which is 16 episodes. Since Funimation lost the license back in like... 2012 it's not officially uh licensed for viewing anywhere, so uh. wink wink. message me if you need more help here.

There's ALSO the novels which... there are so many more than there are for drrr, also available to purchase, though these are hardcovers! Last time I checked they had.... around 20 translated? Since I'm more drrr side I'd have to ask about fan translations and if I can still find them around. But again I don't really condone it since we want more written you know?

Narita also has a couple other series, but the one that's my favorite besides DRRR is Etsusa Bridge (It's pronounced Essa Bridge don't make the same mistake I did. )

And i NEED more people to read that one please please please please

Unfortunately, the person who did the fan translation closed their Blogspot to the public so uh. the first 4 books, and really what is the main story, is available on the internet archive here

Though I'm saying thank you to baka-tsuki for my life by having a page of links here, which includes the 5th book, 5656 part two (NARITA..... I NEED 5656 PART 2 PLEASE...... PLEASE)

and Vamp on the internet archive here and baka-tsuki here

I also know about Hariyama-san but i don't actually know... if anyone translated that one..... Narita has also written for Bleach and Fate Strange/ Fake if you're into those. Straight up just linking this wiki page in case you have any interest in other stuff he's written

And finally! Currently, Dead Mount Death Play (often shortened to DMDP) is a manga written (or co written?) by Narita! which is currently getting an anime and all of his attention.

All that being said I've been really into Trigun lately lmao

Anyone else feel free to add on or tell me what I may be missing

[holyguardian]

Ifalna strikes me as the type of person who befriends others very easily. Before tragedy so violently entered her life, she was kind and thoughtful, the type who would do something good even to the detriment of herself. Her altruism is ultimately her ruin. She should have been angry at Gast for his role in unsealing the calamity, and yet she fell in love with him, a human who admitted to making an unfathomable mistake, the very man who unravelled the valiant efforts of cetran warriors and scholars to protect the world from a parasitic being.

He did the worst thing that a human could do to a cetra, and she fell in love with him anyway, because she could see he was a better man than his actions. She was also quite young and foolish — he was studying her people, seeking knowledge about who she was, which could certainly make an 18 year old feel seen. (Working with FFVII's own timeline and lore, I have cut down their age gap more than it likely is, so at their first meeting Ifalna would be 18 and Gast would be 31, which is important to note because an imbalance of maturity and general worldly knowledge is at play on their quick road between meeting, marriage and starting a family. Had she met Gast when she had more experience of the world as an adult their story would have been different).

Gast's history with Shinra led the company to their doorstep. He died urging Ifalna to take their newborn daughter and run, and she was escorted by faceless men in body armour and helmets to an imprisonment which is worse than nightmares. She was 22 years old when she was kidnapped, which marks a perfect mirror image to Aerith in Remake when she's sitting in Professor Hojo's laboratory. There aren't specifics about what happened to Ifalna, but there are hints, that once Aerith demonstrated she had cetran power within her too (which apparently happened in 1992, the same year that they escape), Professor Hojo increased Ifalna's 'working hours' and began crueller treatments knowing that he had a 'back up'. Remember the meeting between board directors in Remake?

Given this is how Professor Hojo speaks about Aerith after his actions led to her mother's death within less than a year of his 'testing' and he has had 15 years to do any type of reflecting, it's fair game to assume that what Ifalna lives through is on the extreme end of torture. By the time Aerith is 7 years old, Ifalna has deteriorated so much that she cannot cope without secret pain medication being smuggled in for her and by the time we see her escaping, she cannot even stand on her own two feet.

And yet throughout all of this she retains who she is at her core. She is a kind person. Someone who is so frustratingly goodhearted that she can survive everything that happened to her and still care about others. Cid Highwind met her one time and still remembers her almost two decades later. Faz Hicks plotted her escape because he had fallen so in love with his 'dear Ifalna' that he wanted to play happy family with her. Tseng, who had been assigned to monitor the missing cetran child following the mother and daughter's escape and Ifalna's body retrieval, "was cautious based on the unfortunate circumstances surrounding her mother's death" and "refused to take Aerith back to Shinra by force".

Ifalna is only 29 years old when she escaped trying to give her daughter a future outside of Shinra. Even when she realised she didn't have much longer left, she spent her last hours trying to take care of her daughter, reassuring her that everything was going to be alright. These are all things within her canon, and when I expand on that, when I explore who Ifalna might be if she survived being a tragic plot point, she's still so full of love despite everything. She feels terrible guilt knowing that she played on Faz's emotions to be free, it's something that eats away at her. She would mourn the losses of anyone she crossed paths with inside Shinra, people who were employed by her kidnappers and complicit in her imprisonment with the deflection they were just doing their jobs, because she still sees them as people worthy of love. The only ones she holds hatred for are Professor Hojo, and President Shinra, in her eyes those are the men that directly wronged her.

ANYWAY. IFALNA IS NICE, I GUESS.

[ghostofnibelheim]

[Four Seasons] Secrets

Closed Starter for the “Four Seasons” Divergent Megaverse!

Of how Nanaki and Fuhito first learned about ShinRa’s ties with Cosmo Canyon.

Involved Characters: Nanaki, 18yo  ( @nanakithewarrior​ )  Fuhito Fushimi, 11yo ( @fuhitoofavalanche ), Vincent Valentine, 27yo ( @peccatum-aeternum )

References: Before Crisis -Final Fantasy VII-, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII

Settings: Cosmo Canyon, Late October εγλ 1977

Note: This thread is a rewrite of the verse, some parts have been heavily edited.

Scary…

It was a word Nanaki hated; and one he’d rather not use at all if he could help it. At 18 years of age, boys shouldn’t be scared. His grandfather could remind him every day that he shouldn’t make the mistake of counting his own age in the same way the other young ones did in the Valley of the Fallen Star. A year for Nanaki took three years for the other kids to come. But regardless of his words, people celebrated his birthday every human year. Boys who had seen eighteen birthdays did not know fear.

Animals, however, they did. Fear was one of the few primal emotions man and beast shared, and one that he felt heavily swung the pendulum to which he was chained to his wild roots rather than the role his kind was supposed to represent here.

It was also the grim reminder of the coward he descended from. His mother would be ashamed, if she knew he was afraid.

But on the inside, where Nanaki's thoughts belonged to him alone, he couldn’t deny it.

Fuhito, that young boy, he was scary.

He’d been living in the village for about a year now - human year, that is - and from the very start, something about him had never sat right with Nanaki. He thought it was the foreign scent at first; or his accent. Everything about him simply screamed “different”, and still even now, when the rest had accepted his presence amongst the other scholars who had come to stay in Cosmo Canyon, Nanaki had not. Not quite…

Not that Nanaki would do anything about it. But he did scoot to sit a bit further when the boy joined the others around the fire for Grandpa’s teachings. And he’d avoided the study rooms carefully when he caught his scent lingering by. These days more often than others.

It was a shame, because the pillows there were particularly comfortable.

If only he could put his finger on just what exactly unsettled him so, maybe he could make peace with this feeling. The few times his eyes had met the other’s, Nanaki had felt the fur at the spine of his back stand on end. It felt like staring into the glassy eyes of a bird of prey. A big one, like those who’d try to snatch him when he was a much smaller pup and made him rush inside, tail tucked between his hinds, flame threatening to singe his toes.

Fuhito was passionate about his studies, maybe more than most in the village. But the way he went through each and every book in the study room had something predatory-like. Obsessive. It was not right.

With a small sigh, Nanaki shuddered to let his bristled fur settle back down in place. He shouldn’t be thinking about him anymore. It made his stomach churn. Huffing, he rolled to the other side where he was laying, on a flat rock by the edge of the cliff that marked the village’s borders, staring off into the far away, dangerous wild plains.

Another tome closed; more of the same. Behind crystal clear lenses, Fuhito’s eyes closed to suppress his growing frustration.

Had he really hit a dead end? It couldn’t be. There had to be more.. more he could learn, to understand, to act.

Even though acting seemed the last thing anybody in this place could do. Was this place just the same as his home village, after all? Was everybody on Gaia just a cowardly, lazy bunch of sheep?

The last of his readings was put back into place; another book about the Study of the Planet as a lifeform; the last he’d managed to find on the subject, anyway. There were other books to be read, surely, but the titles seemed all highly unrelated. Maybe he’d have to commission some delivered from the outside soon.. if not leave entirely.

Just like Wutai, Cosmo Canyon was bringing back that feeling onto him. Suffocating and narrow. Even though his mind had opened so much since coming here. It hadn't taken long at all.

Back when he was home, he couldn’t have ever fathomed the possibility. The Planet itself, a whole living being. With animals and people festering its surface, thriving like mold and bacteria. Providing it with fuel to keep on thriving… the cycle of the Lifestream.

A fascinating subject that most would focus on. But he had eyes on a much more specific aspect now….

The threat to the Planet itself… ShinRa, and mako energy. With his newly harnessed knowledge, Fuhito’s understanding had reached greater answers. The bleeding crystals in the Wutai mountains were natural springs of mako, where the Lifestream had erupted to the surface to spill out. That same mako energy also drew creatures to it, and turned them into monsters. Monsters, in turn, are addicted to mako, and thus prowl and linger in its proximity, making natural mako springs true cradles of hell spawns. No wonder the ridges had become forbidden to venture into for him and the other children.

And the people in blue… the visitors who had been crawling in those mountains, and who shot the swordsmith’s wife…

ShinRa.

So little here spoke of ShinRa, yet the company’s name was like an interwoven thread with his studies. ShinRa and its greed for mako. Turning it into energy to work at the service of man. Sucking it out of the Planet, through technology he could barely begin to understand, and from it, bring new light, a majestic city of gargantuan proportions risen from the ground in a mere seven years. An epic tale of technological advancement… but at a cost mankind couldn’t afford.

How could something so dangerous be so severely overlooked? Why was there so little about this process to be found here? No, moreover… how had this connection even originated? Why did nobody seem to pursue this curiosity? Surely, someone had to know more. And there was only one man in this whole place, whose wisdom and knowledge reached far out of Fuhito’s own greedy grasp.

Stepping out to an open balcony carved into the rock that composed the main building of the village, the young boy looked up to the ever-burning fire. The Cosmo Candle, a symbol of enlightenment and understanding, shone bright already in those afternoon hours.

Bugenhagen, the mysterious wise chief of Cosmo Canyon. What was he not telling him?

[icameheretoreadstuff]

REQUESTS: OPEN/CLOSED Mix Masterlist - Main Masterlist - ask

Everything I write goes without saying: 1. Always read the warning labels. 2. This tumblr is filled with 18+ content. 3. Minors do not interact. 4. All content are works of fiction

-> Requests: Even if the request is closed, by all means send anyway! It just means that It’ll probobly take a longer time. (: English is not my native language, so please be warned due to misspelled words and stuff -> But do not worry I try my best to edit it.

-> Things I Write: nsfw smut, characters are aged up no matter what, mostly F!Reader, once in a blue moon I’ll write Fluff.

-> Kinks: Teasing, Cockwarming, Oral, Sub/Dom, Wet and Messy, Bondage, Multiple Orgasm, Overstim, Stuck in wall, Jealousy, Choking, Spanking, Deepthroat, Dry Humping, Blindfold, Public, Rough Smut/Oral, Creampie, Body Worship, Foodplay, Begging, Pegging, Titjob, Dirty Talk, Breeding, Praise Kink &&more

-> Things I will not write: Anything Underage/minors, Daddy/mommy kink, sexual assault, r*pe, s**cide, incest, drug use, cheating, miscarriages, self harm, yandere, noncon/dubcon or other extreme/dark kinks.

-> Do not interact: You will be blocked if you are not 18+ and If youre being rude to me or my followers. I’m not here to discuss why I will not write different kinks, I am not here to discuss your view on lgbtqia+/politics/Mental health etc, I hate drama on my tumblr and bad vibes :/ please be kind (: I want this tumblr to be a safe place.

-> Characters: x Naruto: Kakashi, Naruto, Kiba, Sasuke, Obito x One Piece: Shanks, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Smoker x Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru, Choso, Toji x MHA/BNHA: Tamaki, Dabi, Katsuki Bakugo x Fire Force: Shinra x Haikyuu: Kuroo

[tactical-mode]

Back in syndicated TV days, the third episode had to be good, and it had to also catch new viewers up - you had to account for people not hearing about your show for the first few weeks. To that end, this was my favorite episode to make so far. 

I’m using the EC version of the score here. It’s 87 bpm, so while editing I grooved out to the likes of Coincidence by Sabrina Carpenter, La Bamba by Los Lobos, and Better Than by Lake Street Dive.

[Chapter 01] Scene 18:  Into the Mako Reactor

The biggest scene of the episode - a monologue with 6 cuts becomes a short dialogue with 18. In both this and the other big scene Barret is fully mo-capped, while only Cloud’s head is tracked, his body moves in a stilted way and at several point he’s, like, T-posing just below the frame haha. It presented an unexpected obstacle to filming, but luckily my storyboards are rough doodles easily scrapped, and I managed to get some good shots in and masked a lot of dialogue that wasn’t actually there. 

As for the scene’s script, here are the lines of interest:

Barret: Yo! This your first time in a reactor? (PS1/PC)

Barret: Yo. You’ve been in a reactor before, right? (Beacause/EC)

Barret: Hey. This your first time in a reactor? (Rogers A)

Barret: Here we are in a reactor, which I'm sure is a familiar sight to you. (Rogers B)

and

Barret: It's the life blood of this planet. But Shinra keeps suckin' the blood out with these weird machines. (PS1/PC)

Barret: All right, I’ll tell ya… Mako’s the lifeblood of our planet, but Shin-Ra’s usin’ all this weird crap around here to suck it dry! (Beacause)

Barret: They're bleedin' the planet dry! Shinra'd take every last drop of mako from the planet if they could. And this pile o' scrap they call a mako reactor is what let's 'em. (EC)

Scene 19-25: Codes and Doors

Multiple sequences were merged as I decided against including the combat in this room. First of all, I ONLY want to put combats at the end of episodes, so that viewers who don’t like it can just skip ahead once the slow-mo Matrix crap starts lol.

Anyway, I took some footage of Biggs and Jessie running from door to door. Getting these shots without boxes or bodies strewn all over the floor was actually pretty tough! Ha ha ha! I implemented a cross-fade sequence here to imply time passing. Not my favorite cinematic trick, but we got through it, and I even managed to include Biggs’ optional dialogue here.

Scene 23 was cut entirely, it’s a flashback FMV. Sc. 25 also jumps away, this time to our villains cackling in a tower. Snip snip. I transported a clip of Barret from a later scene and color corrected it to match, and boom! We’re in the elevator without the random encounter, or opening that chest. Just like my first playthrough!

Scene 26: The Elevator

I wanted a more muted score here so I changed from the EC track to 7R’s more orchestral arrangement by Shima. I had to speed it up and change its pitch in order for it to match Uematsu’s track.

Cloud: It's not my problem. (PS1/PC)

Cloud: Sorry, but I’m not interested. (Beacause/Rogers)

Cloud: Why should I care? (EC)

I went with Rogers here.

Scene 27-29: Mako Reactor Dungeon and Encounters

All right, the Matrix shit has kicked off, so give your brain a break and enjoy the fireworks. After some scenery porn (god this game is beautiful) we introduce Barret to battle!

Here we have the first proper 7R score variation: Shotaro Shima’s Mako Reactor - Battle Edit. Purists be damned! Additionally, Barret is outfitted with a Restore materia, when in the OG you don't find it until the next screen and can't use it until the next dungeon. This is one of only a few slight alterations made to adapt to the medium, and it has the upside of Barret not sounding like a moron later during the materia tutorial.

Folks who stick through to the end of the fight get a treat.

Final Thoughts

So I’m hoping fans of the OG are liking the vids, but they’re not my primary audience. I’m making this for people who have no idea what Final Fantasy is. I want to invite them through the story in a way that looks and sounds better than on PS1. How am I doing in that regard? In a way, this entire series could serve as a prologue to Remake, so I’m hoping 7R fans can also see this series’ value.

[takenbynumbers]

tseng for the ask meme!

sexuality hc: irrelevant but mostly queer. he's been with women, but has found he prefers men as he gets older.

gender hc: he is gender envy to literally everyone around him.

a ship that i have: tseeve (they are soulmates). HOWEVER, it may surprise you to know that my first ff7 ship ever was tseng/vincent, affectionately known as the verboten otp. why? spicy reasons (they are still so spicy but i don't write it much anymore). another pairing i quite like is cloud/tseng but only post-canon, and i have been known to ship tsengru under very specific conditions.

a brotp: tseng/zack. they're such BROS. also, seph/tseng!

a notp: tseng/aerith (i like the idea of him teaching her how to protect herself, but they have more of an estranged siblings vibe) and tseng/elena (she's 18, he's at least 30, not to mention there's a HUGE power imbalance and again, i can see him mentoring her but romantically? huge no).

random hc: okay so, tseng's family clan back in wutai used to serve as priests at one of the temples of leviathan, but going back even further, they are descendants from spira (specifically, moonflow region when there had been a city there). due to the folly of his ancestors, they became scattered across spira, but ended up being between djose temple and macalania temple.

fast forward back to gaia, and as a result, he learnt quite a few ways of the temple of leviathan. when tseng was (forcibly) moved to midgar, he tried to put it in the past, preferring to move on, however at some point, he lost a tiny statue he had of leviathan (his mother gifted it to him) and as a result, he ends up getting leviathan tattooed across his back so he could still carry her with him wherever he went.

(my other random hc is that post-fight/torture at the hands of the Remnants, he ends up not recovering fully and tends to wear an eyepatch.)

...i actually have a lot of headcanons but i'll stop here.

general opinion: tseng has been my main blorbo for so many years, alongside cait sith and mog. he's such an interesting character, who truly proves that not everything is so black and white within the compilation, and that is no more evident than in his actions. a lot of people tend to lump him in with the rest of the turks or completely ignore his characterisation in favour for louder characters (like reno and rude), only seeing him in a pairing (tsengru) or apparently hunting down zack for shinra (that's not what he was doing oh my god please stop).

anyway, i could talk about him all day.

[cacneo]

I’m gonna throw all my initial thoughts about rebirth here while the ending is fresh:

1) Myrna is adorable, 10/10 no notes

2) I literally gasped aloud when Zack touched Cloud and ended up fighting along side him

3) I feel like square is fucking with us at this point with all the stamp variations

4) I’m still very hopeful for an ending where Zack is fully back. It’s interesting that they are using the white room again like in AC, I’m wondering what connection that has to the livestream and who ends up rejoining vs being in the room and what that means

5) I really need a list of everything that was changed or expanded upon vs the original

6) I’m a little conflicted with the styling of the Gi and the sort of characterization of them as a group of people. I’d be less conflicted if square hadn’t royally made asses of themselves in FF16, but they lost a lot of benefit of the doubt there recently. But having a group that is styled to look like (to my eyes anyway) African tribesmen, positioning them as outside invaders, and having them say that the cetra’s exclusion of them is why they poured all their hate into a world-ending material is uh…….not great, and it’s even worse when positioned in a narrative about the corrupting power of anger and the need for letting things go. It comes off as a “oh but slavery/colonization/etc. was so long ago, why are you still hung up on it, you’re being divisive by not just moving on.” Left a really bad taste in my mouth after that section, hopefully they just leave it there instead of digging a bigger hole in pt 3

7) I’m putting my money on part 3 coming out in 2027 for the 30th anniversary

8) after them bringing Weiss and Nero back in intergrade, and after reminding myself of them showing up at the end of crisis core, I’m guessing they will show up again when the party goes to midgar in pt 3

9) I’m going to have to find a way to replay dirge of Cerberus

10) still not sure what’s going on with them trying to say that cloud thought Zack drowned??? Presumably it’s sephiroth fuckery

11) I really need context for a) why they added roche as a character and b) why he would have volunteered for a hojo experiment

12) maybe ever crisis has / will do some of this, but I really want some context for like, what fuckery happens in SOLDIER post crisis core and pre main game with their whole chain of command fucked

13) the level design and environment people did a phenomenal job

14) Zack’s new voice actor did waaaayy better this time, whether through practice or better voice direction or both. It actually sounded more like him

15) sad to see the banora posters around but no mention of angeal and genesis (unless you count the loveless production being version G as a genesis mention)

16) square really decided to punish me for not using magic most of the game with that elemental barrier at the end

17) I ship clerith way more than I used to. Remake/rebirth have given her so much more character

18) same for yuffie, I’m glad she got intergrade and with the wutai war being a bigger deal I’m looking forward to better characterization for her too

19) curious what the plan is for cid since they’ve brought him in differently

20) and still a little heartbroken that cid/vincent aren’t full party members

21) I guess wedge appearing in the loveless scene with Jesse/biggs means he did die at the shinra building when the whispers pushed him

22) it’s neat that your weapon changes in scenes based on what you have equipped, but it does really ruin a lot of the cinematic parallels with Zack if you don’t keep the buster sword equipped all game

[maguro13-2]

Legacy of Shinra ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Chapter 1 Pt.11

Ashley : According to my records, it states that the device you created will help us tracking down any criminal threats. The renegading witches must be around here somewhere.

Penny Crygor : There! What's that in the sky? Isn't that...(the Halberd is shown flying over San Francisco) Isn't that one of the Smashers' aircraft?

Ashley : I wonder what they're up to anyway?

Penny Crygor : No clue. But I believe that they're heading to the state of Nevada to have their selves to get into serious action. Hmm? What's that unidentified person they're chasing after? Are they chasing...(Next to the Halberd is a female humanoid Phanto that is shown flying, holding a scythe)

[SKY TO THE OCEAN - Akira Yamaoka]

Ashley : Wait a sec, that's Phanto! the Mask Enemy! She's flying over from where's it going! But, it's a female one! We better go check out if they had some problems!

Penny Crygor : Roger! Quickly and grab onto one of those Warp Stars! [the two grabs onto the Warp Stars and flies off to the Halberd, cuts to Meta Knight battling against Phanto]

Meta Knight : In despicable! I can never imagine a masked enemy had this much strength! How is she so strong to wield a scythe against my attack!?

Female Phanto : [chuckles] Simple, Meta Dork! Master Phanto has given the opportunity to wield a scythe for me! This let me handle to my own attacks and as it looks good on both ways, I can cut you into two or make you into bite-size pieces!

Meta Knight : Remarkable, you may have the skills of a scythe wielder like Mrs. Albarn's daughter, but you're no match for the skills of a true warrior! Come! I will make you to know my power!

[Weapons clashing]

Meta Knight : I know lot of your scythe wielding techniques, but you can never handle this! Taste the power of my Mach Tornado! [does a Tornado Attack to go against Phanto]

Female Phanto : Hmph! Too slow! [teleports to dodge to Meta Knight's attack]

Meta Knight : Tch! I missed! [Phanto surrounds him with the scythe, gasped in shocked] Uwah!?

Female Phanto : Hahaha, going somewhere!? Looks like you're the one that is out of luck for you. But your luck just might be the nick of time. Once this blade will go straight ahead and take off that mask of yours. You will definitely never be the face of a true warrior that you're already understanding the question! Are you ready to give up so easily and reveal your face to the whole world?

Meta Knight : No! I would never take my mask off! It is important when I only use it in combat! This mask holds the will of a warrior and never takes his mask off! No one tells me what to do! [Backs off Phanto and goes behind] Now it should be you that will take off the mask! And show me your true face!

Female Phanto : Is that the nerve you ever had to ask nicely? Why don't you ask that to yourself!? [the two continues clashing]

Meta Knight : What is it that you're looking after?

Female Phanto : I'm looking for my daughter, Maka. I haven't seen her around in 18 years, and it's going to be around 19 years to see her again. I wish I could reunite with her after being held in the sanctuary for so long.

Meta Knight : "Sanctuary"?, around 18 years ago? and now you're saying it's going to be around 19 years ago? What do you mean if you're willing to see your daughter Maka again? Do you have some kind of connection with the characters from Square Enix?

Female Phanto : That's what you think in the past years. But I don't feel like that I'm having a reunion with those Final Fantasy Chumps, or those JRPG Legends from Dragon Quest. But all I need to do for you is to get your head sliced up! It's only a matter of time before I am ready to see my daughter Maka smile again and let her know that I'm coming back. So die now, Meta Twit!

[BOOM!]

Ashley : Hold it right there, you mask freak!

Meta Knight : You girls from Warioware!

Female Phanto : Oh great! More company I have to attend! It's the scientist and that Majo Dectective. It's one of the employees of the Garlic-eating plumber's company. I haven't seen you in a while since your boss Wario was defeated by his rival Mario.

Ashley : How did you know about Mario and Wario, and what are you talking about? You got something to say about your "Daughter", that Maka Kid?

Female Phanto : Could be. But right now, I hope your boss is doing a good job taking care of your wealth and he is a money lover to all his employees, but get's greedy all the time when it comes to money in his pockets. But it ain't just about the money, it's about the taste of sweet reunion and of course, a pretty sweet revenge for letting my husband Spirit Albarn abandoned me for a long time! And this is only just the beginning of my revenge! You maybe able to seek into the eyes of "Truth", but it's not like it's going to last forever to keep up with the Devil's lies. But don't believe in the Devil's eyes, cause those are the lies in his eyes. Now this battle's over, I gotta meet someone who forgets my baby shower for around 18 years! [before teleporting away] See ya around, detective!

Penny Crygor : H-hey! Wait a minute! There's something we need to tell you about Maka! Darn! She run off! Just what was that all about? Hmm? [sees the Heavy Lobster that is completely destroyed after it was defeated by Phanto] Incredible, just look at the poor lobster, I can't believe that this Heavy Lobster machine was the ship's guard robot. I never thought it would be heavily defeated by Phanto for the first time since Kirby destroyed it twice in both the ship and the Machinery planet in Kirby's universe.

Ashley : Indeed. Well, Heavy Lobster's cooked and it was destroyed by Phanto after it detected that she was attacking Meta Knight's ship, before we got on aboard! And there on the second hand, I just got a little information that this Phanto person might be involved of the Kusakabe Legacy. Right now, the less problems there is, the more trouble is that this planet will be destroyed for the likes of that renegading Medusa! What's her angle about Maka? Seems like a pretty deal to me.

Meta Knight : Hmmm...You were one of them "Assist" Trophies that we foreshadowed you. I mean "Detective" from one of them agencies I heard before. You a crime-fighting mystery solver and legend that might be willing to witness the eyes of truth. Listen carefully, your old partner is waiting for you. We will make a few adjustments to concerns on the whereabouts of that Maka Kid. Come, I'll show you where the guys at. [the three walks to the bridge]

~ Twelth Scene : Shell of a Masked Warrior ~

[thinkaboutmeff7au]

flash time 109

(original draft date: 12/16/17)

1998.

This is an old album. I was only, what, 7 or 8 when it came out? When the next one came out, I was old enough to listen to it, and even relate to it a little later. This one reeks of the decade it was made in, the pop-rock of the era. So I’m lukewarm on it.

It’s almost the end of the first side. I almost flipped it early, since it ends with a ballad. But…

“Do you always trust your first initial feeling? Special knowledge holds true, bears believing…”

I take another drag of my cigarette as I sit on my bed, watching the record turn. I’ve been alone most of the day…I’ve been sober most of the day, only because I tripped too hard last night and was still feeling it this morning. It’s been a while since I actually listened to this song. The water closing all around me…LOVELESS is still fresh, I reread it while I was still a little high. They’re kinda similar…

It’s haunting…it’s got meaning to it…

I’m swaying where I sit, the cigarette smoking faintly in my lap. Angeal liked this album, didn’t he? Among all the fuckin’ jazz he listened to. I miss him. Of course I still do. My head feels like it’s spinning.

“How the faces of love have changed, turning the pages, And I have changed, oh but you, you remain ageless…”

My gaze still sits in soft focus, but I hear my apartment door open. “Hey.” It’s Seph, who else would it be? Who else made himself keys for my apartment without me knowing…who else would let themselves in, unannounced…I don’t move. I barely blink. His footsteps echo as he looks for me. Nope, I’m not in the kitchen, not in the living room. “Gen?”

“I turned around and the water was closing all around me, Like a glove, like a love that had finally, finally found me…”

He finally finds me, pushing the door open. I expect him to demand my attention as I’m spacing out, as I take another smoke and let it slowly drift out of my mouth and my nose.

“Then I knew in the crystalline knowledge of you…”

Seph wanders over to me, slowly. He steps in front of me, and only then do I look up. I can’t tell the emotion on his face--it’s blank, but not quite. He takes the cigarette away from me, and takes a drag himself. Then, he sets it in the ashtray on my nightstand, blowing most of it to the side. His hair is down…he’s been wearing it up the last few days at work…

He bends over and lifts my chin up. It’s all very slow, like we’re in a dream. He draws his face closer, still with that odd expression. I keep my mouth shut--I’m sure I’d break him if I spoke, but I don’t feel like it anyway.

We kiss.

Something I’ve noticed: when he’s sober, he kisses a lot harder than when he’s high. But i know he’s not high, and it’s so…soft. It’s so gentle I can barely stand it. Not like this. Fucking hell. But I feed into it. There’s still smoke drifting from my nose, and I keep letting it trickle out, trickle out, trickle out. When we’re high, this moment would last forever--my chin in his hand, our lips together. My arm reaches out to play with the end of his hair, sheathed around us. I let it sift between my fingers.

It doesn’t last forever. He backs off first.

“Wait,” I mutter.

He stops short, a hair away from my lips. If I focus, I can look right into those electric-blue green eyes. intense even as heavy lidded as they are. My lips twitch into a smirk. Being this close…is intoxicating in its own way. “Stay there,” I whisper.

“Why?” he asks, not moving.

“‘Cause I said so,” I reply.

He blinks, and frowns, just slightly. His hand drifts away from my face, and he stands up straight. There’s the haughty pout that I’m used to, that self-righteous attitude that intrigued me from when I first knew him as a teenager. Barely 18, throwing himself into SOLDIER. And me, shy of 21, already tainted by Shinra, ready to burn it all down. And yet. 

“You drove me like a magnet to the sea…”

Seph crosses his arms. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he says. And he turns on his heel and leaves. He doesn’t leave my apartment, just my bedroom, and I can hear the refrigerator open from the kitchen. I stay where I am, unable to move, still able to taste him on my tongue. I loved Angeal, of course I did. That was easy, that was obvious.

Do I love you, Sephiroth?

Is that obvious, too?

(G.)

[monstrouslyobsessed]

note: i can't stop thinking about this. hope you're okay with me doing a snippet! it's a little bit different than i initially intended, but…well, this is more of a possible backstory that led up to the whole Nibelheim aftermath the lovely ashe implied above, feel free to take away or add on to this! <3 yeah its a bit messy but i havent really written anything in ages so....i weep for my soul. hope yall enjoyed anyway tho!!!

cws: reader is gn and is on the older side (apx. late 30s to 40s). they currently have their youngest as toddler-aged. the reader is implied to have multiple children with their spouse. the said spouse has no mentioned pronoun. stalking. reader's pov, isn't 100% a reliable narrator. have multiple minor flashbacks. implied pseudo incestual feelings on Sephiroth's part (between the lines) and abuses (from others, on Sephiroth and a little bit on reader). huge 18+ years age gap. general yandere themes. not beta edited. long post under the cut. SFW.

Something was wrong.

You paused at the sudden itch in the nape of your neck, interrupting the conversation you were having with your longtime spouse. The toddler squirmed in your arms, unsettled by your silence. Or perhaps your daughter sensed something was off, too.

You weren't sure.

"—?" your partner's voice brought you out of your worried trance, the sound of your name a soothing balm to your nerves.

"—aaaa!" The itching stopped as soon as your daughter squealed, tugging at the collar of your shirt for your attention.

You shook your head with a weak chuckle, managing to sneak a scratch through your hair. As you plied your child's hand loose from your shirt. "I'm fine. Just thought of something silly." you reassured them, retaining the urge to choke from the baby's annoyed pulling.

"Silly?" your partner's brow raised high, not oblivious to the slight shift in your seat. "Wanna share what's silly to you?"

You waved them off, already chuckling. "It's just something I'll worry about later." Leaning against the back of your cushioned seat, you bounced your thigh to entertain your baby and released a long sigh. "It's really nice to be home after so long though, so it'll take me a minute to turn off the work mode out of my brain."

You were quiet for a moment, pondering. Regretting.

“I’m going to miss the kid,” you admitted—though you couldn’t say who, because of the strict NDAs you’d signed over 18 years ago. All your partner knew was that it was some rich kid you had been nannying since near birth—and for their and your family’s sake, it was better that everyone stayed in the dark. You brought home extremely good money, and that was enough to abate most questions.

None of them needed to know that you were the personal caretaker of the ShinRa's most invested experiment to date: Sephiroth. You also aided the company in raising a few other children—but Sephiroth had been your main charge for nearly two decades. He was both the easiest—and the most difficult.

Although he was mostly quiet from birth, he still had frequent episodes. Some were worse than others, but you took it all in your stride; he was a lonely kid with no other parent but you. For a decade you had been his whole world—and you were already exhausted halfway in. While he had many teachers for his education, it was part of your duties to ensure that he remembered his lessons and to fill his emotional needs.

You quietened again, nuzzling into your partner's hair as memories and regrets flooded your mind.

You were barely 18 yourself when you applied for a nanny job—it was just a slight notice pinned to a bulletin board in a grocery store in the small town where you grew up. You were good with children, and it seemed promising enough, especially with the scarily high salary.

In hindsight, the triple-digits hourly wage should have been the first red flag—but you were just a naïve runt then, trying to spread your wings for the first time and fly away from the nest. You remembered how alarmed you were when a few men in black suits showed up on your doorstep and all but marched you away from your confused parents and stuffed you into an extravagant vehicle (it was luxurious for its time and much sought after now, but you remembered hating its stiffness, unable to lean back properly without feeling crunched).

Gods, you could laugh looking back now, but you were scared stiff and near tears when they drove you a few hours away to the damn Midgar. It was practically a kidnapping, as none of these gentlemen would spare a single detail to you. Their lips were sealed shut and you quickly learned to shut up too, when one of them flashed you their congealed gun under their jacket out of annoyance.

It was impressive that you hadn't screamed in terror even once the entire duration there. On arrival, you vividly remembered collapsing in your chair when the President (he was a spindly man back then, but by the Planet, he was so greasy to begin with) declared that you had been hired on the spot to look after the most important kid in the world. Your self-control—or perhaps, self-preservation impressed even you.

Now, how were you supposed to know that tiny piece of paper was from the ShinRa, one of the biggest conglomerates in the world?

If you'd known then, you might have refused to even look at it.

Admittedly, you would still bite the hook, regardless. It was hard to turn down so many numbers in that dollar sign. You could afford to pay off your parents' debts and even take them on that vacation in the Costa Del Sol you had promised them years before with the salary they offered alone—nevermind the annual bonus. A few NDAs and an 18-year contact later, the President sent you on your way to care for this strange-looking kid who slept in the coldest lab you've ever been in.

A heavy burden of responsibility pushed upon a barely-adult like you…

It was a daunting experience, but not one you'd ever say you regretted. When you first laid your eyes on Sephiroth, he was a tiny, writhing thing, crying out for any physical contact he was constantly denied from. Something that no baby should ever be rejected from (especially when it could even lead to their death!)—but none, save you, had been willing to give him an ounce of love.

You never understood why everyone else feared him. He was a bit strange looking, sure, with snow-white hair and alien green eyes, but to you, he was still just a baby in need. So you took him in and loved him as if he was your own child. He was so, so, so…

vibrantly responsive to every single physical affection you gave him.

He was so hungry even for a simple hug, a few kind words, a gentle kiss, a smile—when he learned to walk he was like a duckling, following you everywhere you went. You woke up early for him, fixed his food under the strict regiment (you tried your best to make everything consumable and unique, and fought tirelessly with the authorities to expose him to more variety; using arguments to avoid developing allergies had been your key tactic), played games with him, changed his diapers—you'd done everything for him, and he'd mirrored your every action and even your slightest habit.

He was obsessed—but you thought that was normal for his age. All the children you knew had declared their desire to marry their parents, for their parents had been their whole world. He’d grow out of it, eventually.

(You still think so, even though his affections toward you have waned. But, the way his searing jade-green eyes would sometimes look at you unnerves you to this day.)

Your heart ached for him and the life he would soon lead. Sephiroth was a lab child from birth, poked and prodded with countless needles, and you were just…an ordinary citizen who knew how to handle children. You had no experience with weapons or magical tools like Materias, nor did you have any potential with them. You were helpless and you couldn't even save him from his inevitable fate as the world's favorite labrat.

All you could do was to comfort him and be there for him.

You endured even through his most dangerous meltdown, sporting several broken bones and injuries, until he grew old enough to realize the damage he was doing to you and learned to retain his strengths. Despite his best efforts and apologies, the scores of scars on your skin continued to grow. It was your tenacity and Sephiroth's attachment to you that made your superiors think twice about letting you go before your contract was up. Many others would've left the first time they'd gotten a broken arm from handling kids like Sephiroth.

You were probably incredibly stupid, but the last thing you wanted to do was to break that lonely kid's shattered heart any further.

("Don't ever leave me!" he would often scream, his little hands scratching into yours, as you struggled to contain him—to hug him. "You're not leaving me! No!")

When ShinRa finally decided it was time to start grooming Sephiroth as their strongest SOLDIER at the age of 7, you could breathe a little easier. You had a bit more free time—and soon met the love of your life in a chance encounter at your favorite cafe. It was a quick lunch break, and you were desperate for a breath of fresh air from the stuffy room you shared with Sephiroth and your other duties of stockpiling lessons from his teachers.

If you hadn't applied for that job posting, you would never have met your beloved spouse.

Everything in your life had led you here, to this house and this place. With a family. A full home and a full heart—all because of Sephiroth, and you owed him a life of gratitude.

If it wasn't for him, you probably wouldn't be where you were now.

("If it wasn't for you…" Sephiroth trailed off, leaving you completely confusion as of why he said anything at all. He was barely a teenager.)

It was a shame that it was considered a fireable offense if you shared your love life with Sephiroth. He might have loved your partner too, maybe. It was even more of a shame that you couldn't brag about how wonderful your silver-haired child was with your spouse, but you quickly learned to separate your work from your personal life. Hiding that you'd had a family of your own from him was a feat that deserved a gold medal for best lying.

Although it had helped when Sephiroth himself had to be taken away for months at a time for rigorous training. He had no idea that you even had a life outside of him, just a few basic facts that you still had a living set of parents (which he only learned because it was a lesson regarding a common family hierarchy) and that you had some bills to pay (it was a math lesson, though he did inquire about it years later when he became a teenager seeing the discrepancies between your living with him when there were no bills and your initial comments).

("…you looked different." Sephiroth eyed you critically. Knowing better than to divulge details of how exhausting having a baby was, you laughed at his unsolicited comment. "You think so? Maybe I've kept myself a little too busy in your absence. So! How was your training?" He never really believed you, of course, but accepted with a nod).

Nothing that would have truly upset your superiors beyond some ruffled feathers—some personal facts had been inevitable in your 18 years of servitude to this special child. The rest of your private life, however, had stayed a secret from him. No parent should have felt so guilty withholding such truths from other children they'd loved so dearly—but you'd always known that you were only meant to be temporary in Sephiroth's life. Knowing that it was but a contracted lie helped quieten the guilt a little.

But, you still had your regrets and plenty of what-ifs.

("…If I took you away, where would you want to be?" You asked one day. Sephiroth paused in his eating, a bit of spicy noodles dangling from his chopsticks. He barely blinked as his answer came quickly. "As long as I'm with you, I'd be…content." You thought how strange his answer was and decided not to ask him any more questions like that. You refused to admit to yourself how much he annoyed you sometimes).

You loved him as your own, and the number of times you found yourself wishing you could spirit him away to join your family as the oldest brother was heartbreaking. Your children would've loved him—looked up to him and demanded for his affection in return. It hurt so much to leave him in the dark—

and it was still so painful that you had to leave him so soon, so quickly, without another word.

("I promise, you'll see me again tomorrow." You tried to reassure him, finding it difficult to endure his angry glare—and his growing fingers slicing through your arms. "I know you don't like all this poking, but I'll be right here when you wake up." At that, he relented with a sharp line of his tiny lips and a quiet demand. "…You promise?" "Yes. I'll never leave you alone, okay?" His thin fingers were draped in red as he released you with a firm nod. "Okay." You dreaded the day when you would have to break your promise a decade later, but for now, you vowed to keep your words as long as you could.)

In the blink of an eye, he had gone from a waddling duckling, attentive to your gentle love and kind words, to an independent adult chasing his own dreams completely free of your involvement. Whatever dream he may have, you'd happily support—but with a painful sigh, it would have to be from a distance.

You were already letting him go—he already had years ago, you felt.

("…You're not leaving me." You thought you heard him saying one day, just a few days shy of his sixteenth birthday. You pivoted and blinked at the frighteningly tall male, "—? Did you say something, Sephiroth?" He never replied, only breezed past you.)

Despite his curious inquiries and his insistence on keeping you by his side, the two of you barely saw each other.

Even on his 18th birthday, you only saw him in passing—barely long enough to hand over his favorite homemade sweet he'd always loved since his childhood. Sephiroth was never a materialistic individual, and while he did have a few prized possessions, they were few and far between. Truthfully, you blamed the higher-ups for disposing nearly of all of his beloved treasures from behind his back and yours.

("…Where are our drawings?" Sephiroth whispered in dismay at the sight of the bare surface of the fridge. "We worked so hard on them…" "Such unnecessary trinkets. They've been disposed of," a man in a white jacket said coolly. He'd left before you could even think about suckerpunching his creepily long face. "Oh." The boy never looked so small before in your eyes and he felt smaller in your arms.)

It was no wonder that the kid was so…broken.

Despite all of your effort to love him, it hadn't been enough to protect him from the cruelty of others and of the world itself. Behind the closed doors, countless tears had been shed—at least until they punished the crying out of him and you never saw him cry again. Instead, a mask of aloofness replaced his tears—and you were one of the few privileged to see him smile or frown, no matter how slight his expression.

You loved him dearly, enough, you hoped, to replace his missing mother.

("I think you're a far better parent than my mother ever was." Sephiroth concluded one day. He was several inches taller than you, but still so spindly, so skinny, even for a SOLDIER in training. You took it as a compliment and smiled at his comment. "You think so?" "Maybe even better." The glow in his eyes, though, had unsettled you.)

But you too will disappear—

you already had

—and it hurts more than you would ever admit.

With a pained grimace, you looked at your cooing daughter, now distracted by the cartoon on the expensive television. Absently, you ran your fingers through her fine hair, toying with the strands. A habit you'd developed to comfort Sephiroth without arousing the ire of your ever-watchful superiors.

You'd braid his growing hair, using the excuse that it was unruly from his training. That was until one of his terrible teachers cut it off as a punishment for his supposed disobedience or another. It took years for his hair to grow back—only for the same teacher to repeat the same punishment.

It was devastating not to be able to sneak your loving words to him—and he was hurt too, hiding his pain behind his long bangs.

("Oh, your beautiful hair…" It hurt to even hold a pair of scissors, your hands shaking as you fought both the growing anger and the tears from spilling forth. It was a struggle trying to even out his cut, his split strands feeling wrong through your fingers. Sephiroth stiffened, the leathers of his gloves pulled taut in his hands, and looked over his shoulder at you in wonder. "You…like my hair?" You nodded with a choked smile. "Long hair suits you well." "I…see. I'll remember that. Thank you.")

To imagine that the very cake you'd made was the very last gift you could've given to him…

You fought back a wince of pain from appearing on your face in front of your daughter's wide-eyed curiosity.

"—aaaa?" She poked at your plunging lips.

You laughed, though your voice was breathy and devoid of your usual warmth, and planted a kiss on her forehead, "I'm fine, little love. Oh," you pretended to see a funny clip of her cartoon of a black moogle character dashing away from the group of colorfully dressed heroes, "No! Noogle will escape the Justice Moogs again!"

At that, your daughter pivoted to her show with a gasp of outrage.

The slight sound of relief, mixed with a little sadness, left your chest as you sank against your spouse's shoulder, weary with exhaustion and melancholy. What else could you have done for that boy?

You were grateful to be able to give him anything at all for his birthday. The way he held it, as if it were gold, was the most sentimental look you'd ever seen from him. It was a welcome—and the most painful, break from the cold, formal expression he'd often give you before he was called away to some formal gathering to congratulate him on his entry into his adulthood. An event to which you were never invited.

—not that you were ever invited to many, if any, of the events surrounding his growth.

("Why didn't you come to the party?" Sephiroth refused to look at you, though he never fought your touches as you worked to undo his suffocating jacket. He was getting taller again, you wondered absently, as you tugged at the fabric. When you stalled too long to answer his question, you caught his exasperated breath and sighed. "I was never invited, Sephiroth." They never told you to lie about not being invited. "…That's ridiculous." "It is what it is." Noticing the stiffness in his shoulders, you hastened to reassure him, "If it helps, I don't care for these stuffy events. Too judgmental for my taste." His hissing annoyance creased and he looked at you again. With a tilt of his head, Sephiroth accepted your answer with a comment: "Well, I suppose that's better—I wouldn't want to share you anyway.)

Still, you wished you could've hugged him one last time before erasing all traces of your existence from his life, as ordered by his superiors. The only thing you'd managed to smuggle home was a photograph you'd taken of him singing a happy birthday song over a simple cake when he turned 5. It was the only thing you had left of him, of the fact that you'd loved him from birth—and for legal reasons you even had to hide that like an ugly secret from your spouse.

You weren't even allowed to say a goodbye.

Gods, you wanted to cry.

You had mastered the art of stoicism years ago from others for Sephiroth's sake—but your spouse had always been uncannily sharp with you.

"It's okay to miss your kid," came your partner's soft voice. Their head rested heavier on yours, as they continued, "it's pretty normal, I think—you practically raised them."

They truly had no idea how much of a hand you had in raising Sephiroth.

("…What does 'pride and joy' mean anyway?" Sephiroth kicked his feet off his still swing. You halted your swing, slid your feet through the artificial mulch, and allowed his question to sink into your ears. "Pride and joy…? Was that from the book you're reading now?" At his nod, you hummed with a thoughtful look on your face. Clapping your hands on your thighs, you patiently explained, "Well, it's something—or even someone that brings you a great deal of happiness. You'd feel very proud and really appreciated into having it with you." "…Do you have a 'pride and joy' then?" Sephiroth's steady eyes looked expectant and his grip on the ropes tightened. You grinned, "Yes. You.")

"That I did." you murmured, rubbing a circle on your little girl's back, as you watched the characters finally trap the main villain. "They don't need me anymore, so it's okay. They'll be fine no matter what they do. Besides," a smile curled your lips, "I'm needed elsewhere now."

As soon as the last word left your tongue, a faint rustle came from outside the window. You blinked, diverting your attention and missing the first few words out of your better half's mouth, oblivious to your paranoia from their distraction to your daughter's grumbling complaint about the ending of her episode.

The odd itch, once a faint shadow of discomfort, niggled from the back of your brain.

"—ly," the vibration rumbled through your spouse's body as they giggled and turned their attention back to you. Their laugh faded upon seeing your expression, "What's up?"

It was too brief for you to see, too fast that it was nothing but a blur, but you could've sworn that the shadow was distinctly humanoid. Quickly, you passed your daughter off to your spouse and hurried off the couch, grabbing the small gun from behind a bookcase on the way to the door. Plopping your gun against your wrist, deftly pushing in new bullets in the barrels, you steeled yourself with a grit of your teeth.

You slammed the door open.

Nothing. You searched the perimeter, ears tuned to the silence.

Had it been your imagination?

Once again, you scoured throughout your empty backyard.

Again, you were met with nothing.

Relaxing your grip, you neared the window of where you saw the strange shadow.

A patch of earth was trampled, the green blades of grass flattened with no obvious footprints, and the bush bent and torn. The back of your neck grew stiff. It was not your imagination.

Someone was there, watching you and your family.

And there were stripes in the shape of fingers dug through the windowsills.

A sense of dread loomed in your mind.

"Dear?" your spouse slowly emerged from the door.

For reasons beyond your understanding, you turned back with a smile and lied through your teeth, "It's nothing."

Your stomach curdled with the same discomfort you'd experienced for time and time again with Sephiroth.

—end

(edited as oh nov 17 2024 for gendered language, i was p tired when i last proofread. sorry!)

I propose an idea. Sephiroth, barely turned adult, snuck out from his tightly secured home to find his caretaker (his "parental"/"mother" figure) he'd been obsessed with for years, maybe planning an 'ambush'? and learned that they were with a partner he didn't know about. Might've even had a family with them!

Boy, he'd be furious.

Yes! The "betrayal" (in his eyes) would be their ultimate sin. How could they? To built up such relationship with Sephiroth, ever since he was a mere boy. His world shatters when this revelation comes out of the left field. And it's not like they talked much about their life outside of him whenever they were on their job. They were solely focused on him. Making sure he got the proper nurture, care and affection one would need growing up. Technically, they did everything right.

Maybe too "right". Because now, Sephiroth felt like they were bound to him and him alone. And it should stay that way. His struggle to block out the dark thoughts only grew over time. Those Jenova instincts clawing at his mind to force him to acknowledge his dominance over them. How easy it could be. But he had to hold himself back. Keep the mask on for a bit longer so his perfect plan to get what he wants will come to fruition.

And his dear caretaker sensed there was something off about Sephiroth. How every affectionate touch they normally shared (in privacy) lingers a bit longer. And the subtle hesitancy in his body language whenever Sephiroth forces himself to pull away. And there's that slight dark shift in his pupils whenever someone steals their attention from him. They've brush it off, attributing to Sephiroth being in his typical grouchy mood.

They just have no idea of what's to come when they go to Nibelheim with Sephiroth...

[sanguinechaos]

In a collaborative effort with my friend who doesn't usually ship things but I got him hooked on Shinra/Beni somehow, I present: fire brigade shenanigans. Lmao I don't usually write things but I am rly vibing with these dumb idiots.

❖ How do they get together in the first place? Well, after a long hard day of training, they're both hot, sweaty and out of breath. And Beni just kinda has a lightbulb moment, like "Oh. I like Shinra.", grabs him by the collar of his shirt and... Shinra thought he would punch him. Shinra really really thought he would punch him. But instead he gets kissed. It takes his brain like 5 full seconds to catch up to what's happening but then he realizes. He doesn't actually mind that this is happening. Actually, he likes it.

Beni breaks away for a second, letting them both catch their breath. And then kinda gets a little bashful, like "I'm sorry, I just did something weird...". Shinra just looks him in the eyes and tells him to kiss him again. His whole face is burning and the adrenaline is coursing in his veins, making his blood pound in his ears so hard it's almost matching the intensity of the butterflies in his stomach.

So they just end up making out.

Arthur is laying face down in the dirt 5 feet away from them. He has no idea what is happening. Shinra that isn't a princess.

❖ Shinra ask afterwards. "Does. Does this mean we're dating?" And Beni just has an absolute poker face the entire time. Obviously it means they're dating, fucking brat.

❖ The single inch of height difference is very very cute. Also Beni surprisingly likes getting carried around by Shinra. Beats walking.

❖ Beni wouldn't be caught dead in the normal Special Fire Force outfit. Except maybe if Shinra wanted to see him wear it... He would consider it.

❖ Shinmon Benimaru care instructions: If matoi is not available a regular mop will suffice.

❖ You think they might not be open to stating that they’re dating, but no. Beni is very blunt. “Yeah, we're together. What, do you have a problem with it? You wanna fucking fight???” Shinra might combust out of embarrassment though… And has to stop his boyfriend from just fighiting random people in the streets.

Everyone in Asakusa is incredibly impressed though. It's not everyday someone wins the heart of fucking Shinmon Benimaru.

Beni is a picture of tranquility as always but Shinra has that nervous smiling expression around him for a good long while before he finally chills out. Beni holds his hand and Shinra blushes so hard he nearly sets fire to something.

❖ Oh my god please just imagine the fit Hibana would throw when she finds out that Shinra got snatched away from her by none other than the captain of the 7th. Shinra, why are you dating that savage!? She’d be stewing but I think she’d be smart enough not to try to challenge him for Shinra’s hand in marriage lmao… Or maybe she would… (She would not win.)

❖ Okay before anyone finds out they’re dating Obi might accuse Beni of trying to poach Shinra for Company 7. But no, they’re just like, together.

Obi: Why are you spending so much time in Asakusa?

Shinra: I’m… I’m training….. with captain Shinmon… Training. Yes.

Benimaru: lol no we fuckin'.

Arthurs reaction to it is hilarious as always.

Arthur: I don’t like it.

Tamaki: Hey just cause theyre both men doesnt meant it’s wrong…

Arthur: What are you talking about? Shinra is getting more training than me.

❖ Do they use cute pet names? Hahaha no, what are you on. They’re definitely more likely to just use insults but said in a very soft tone of voice instead. They might be idiots but they're each others idiots. Also imagine they affectionately calling each other "devil" and "monster". Why are you like this.

❖ Shinra says “I love you” first. Beni is not a man of many words and would probably express the sentiment trough actions anyway. He does let it slip verbally at some point though, and Shinra is dedicated to making him say it again as soon as possible. He says it a lot when hes hammered though. Like every 5 minutes. Just staring at his boyfriend and smiling. Shinra thinks he might cry cause it's so cute.