#cadet cloud.....

[wowa-bublord]

just wanna say i love your recent baby infantry cloud so much... bright-eyed hopeful lil guy 🥹

hehe thank you!!! i love him too!! 🥺

[prismaticpichu]

I was just doing some research for a fic and gahhhhh I LOVE this little detail of trooper Cloud turning around when Zander’s approaching ❤️❤️❤️

Shy spiky bean doesn’t wanna be recognized :,33

[darling-sephiroth]

[haomnyangz]

thats not a dog tag around his neck thats a medal

[strayheartless]

There is a wonderfully loud three year old in my house and while my sensory issues don’t think it’s a vibe, my fic brain is now thinking about how baby Cloud just wouldn’t be like that.

Three year old Cloud is, first of all, tiny. Like, he’s properly, properly small. His Ma really doesn’t have much in the way of money so they rely on hunting and foraging, which didn’t always garner the best results so Cloud was skin and bone for most of his childhood.

Cloud didn’t speak for a long time. He could, physically he actually had quite a developed vocabulary on account of Claudia constantly talking g and reading to him. But he didn’t want to talk for a very long time.

Cloud didn’t play like other kids. It’s my personal headcanon that Cloud is on the spectrum so I often imagine him lining up his tin soldiers, but I also imagine he was obsessive about brushing his Sephiroth dolls hair.

He had dolls of Angeal and Genesis too that he played with, but he took the Seph doll everywhere. To the store? Better take sephiroth in case of monsters. To the Forest? Better take Sephiroth in case of monsters. Bedtime? Sephiroth will keep watch.

Baby cloud wasn’t cuddly. He wanted to be. God was he desperate to be cuddly, but adults have smacked Cloud in the face for less. Not Claudia, never Claudia but one of the first memories Cloud has from his childhood is being three years old and struck across the cheek by a lady in the general store for being ‘rude’ and not answering her.

The times Claudia can coax him into her arms are special because they are the times Cloud talks. He sits in the circle of her arms and plays with her fingers and speaks just above a whisper about the new newspaper pictures of Sephiroth, or chatters placidly about the vegetables in the allotment and the ones he wants to grow in the summer.

I feel like actually Seph and Cloud would bond over how badly adjusted both of them were as children. Cloud shares being dragged in front of the town council and publicly caned and humiliated after saving Tifa. Sephiroth shares the time that Hojo injected with a test drug in front of president Shinra after he dared to question orders. Angeal, Genesis and Zack sit in silent horror though the entire conversation.

Cloud giggled very rarely, and the first time Claudia ever heard him laugh in delight was the birthday he got the FIRSTS dolls. He immediately enacted the latest Wutai defence strategy that was in the papers, going outside to draw battle lines in the sand and set up a battle front against the vegetable patch.

Clouds has a problem with authority… the problem is he’s scared stiff of it. There are certain words that will have Cloud lock up and not be able to speak or move. The firsts learn this the hard way. A single ‘don’t’ is enough to pull him up short, but the first time Genesis yelled at him as his mentor Cloud reacted so badly he disassociated hard. All Gen said was ‘how dare you…’ but it was enough. One second he’s angry about insubordination, the next he’s following a sprinting cloud into the bathroom to rub his back through panic induced nausea.

One day I’ll stop torturing him. Today… is not that day.

[archi-pelago]

crisis core seems different than what i remember

[fur-bee]

ff7 rebirth/remake is rly heavy handed with the “cloud is an unreliable narrator” thing esp as a remake that expects you to have done ur homework

[moldyycheese]

No little blonde boy!! Stabbing Sephiroth doesn't do anything!!!

[dark-elf-writes]

Still going back and forth on the Tseng/Cloud soulmate au ideas whether I want it to be pre Cloud at Shinra or in the middle of him being a trooper (I’ll probably end up doing both lets be real the world needs more Tseng/Cloud) BUT I was thinking for the pre Shinra one:

Cloud still going for the Soldier program once he is old enough (Both he and Tseng know that Cloud would make a terrible Turk. Cloud frankly doesn’t have the ruthlessness required of one. That doesn’t stop Tseng from teaching Cloud all of his tricks when it comes to combat, information gathering, and some less than legal skills that will help him in the long run.) because he wants to be able to protect Tseng as much as Tseng protects him and the only way he could possibly compare to the leader of the Turks (in his own mind) is to become a Soldier First Class.

Needless to say none of his fellow cadets know what to make of this blond twink who looks like a stiff wind could blow him over and who put a man twice his size on his knees with a knife they are all convinced he conjured from thin air to the guy’s throat day one when the guy decided he wanted to haze the youngest/smallest of them. They know even less of what to make of Cloud when Turks keep popping up to talk to him like he’s a part of their incredibly fucked up murder family.

The cadets (and some of the instructors tbh) are all frankly lowkey terrified of him and kind of convinced he’s a Turk plant in the program. The fact that Cloud manages to look so innocent the whole time does not help tbh.

[salternateunreality2]

*walks up to the register*

Can I get a....uhh *squints because I don't have my glasses on* large Cloud headcanon, medium Sephiroth involvement, and a diet dash of Zack Fair? Actually no, make the Zack Fair a side.

And for a drink, can you maybe blend all the passion and talent you put in your writing and put it in a to-go cup please? Thank you! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Heck, this got away from me. I combined it with a writing exercise I'd been putting off, hope you enjoy!

Sorry, I can't put my writing into a blender or a cup, this baby is operated by a swarm of squirrels and lizards with minds of their own *slaps brain like the hood of a beloved pickup truck*.

It got so long, I had to move it to AO3.

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

Not sure if it’s cadet Cloud suddenly gaining all the memories of advent children cloud or if it’s ac Cloud being transported back to those days but!

Cloud, armed with all his knowledge of the future and knowing everything he does is suddenly faced with a choice. He can either leave the military altogether and just avoid Zack Fair and everything that is Avalanche and Shinra and lead a peaceful life while Zack leads the one he was always meant to.

Or he can try and change everything. Save as many people as he can and prevent years of heartache and struggle.

Quite honestly (if this is AC Cloud) he’s not keen on the second option. Has lived such a horribly long and difficult life once already. He doesn’t want to go through it all again even if it would be changed cause of the knowledge he holds.

If its cadet Cloud then he’d be more willing to go with the first option, determined to alter the future and try and save everyone. Cause this is a Cloud who hasn’t gone through all this struggle. Yeah he’s got the memories of what he went through but he didn’t actually experience any of it.

Didn’t have to pick himself up over and over and over. Didn’t lose near everyone he came to care about. Didn’t go through any of it. So it’s easier to seperate himself from it and try and do better.

[prismaticpichu]

Protective bean ❤️💚

Waaa???? Pichu’s writing Cloud & Seph frenship?????

~

Compared to the other quaint little homes encircling the village, Strife's residence didn't appear much different from a purely physical standpoint, which probably explained why he and Zack found the young cadet waiting on his porch as they made their way down the coppery stretch of dirt road. Sundown had already begun to bathe the town in a rich orange tint, the temperature dipping to something biting and brisk, and Sephiroth couldn't decide whether it was guilt or something more that made him fiercely hope that Strife hadn't been waiting for them in the cold for too long.

Because, really, he had taken at least nine long minutes to get ready (code term for brushing his hair) after Zack sent the affirmative text mess—

Oh, good. Strife was wearing his scarf.

[raleydrew]

Similar to Red Wine:

Blood Red - #980002

Crimson Red - #990000

Red Berry - #8E0000

Burnt Red - #9F2305

Similar to Thunderbird:

Chili Pepper - #C11B17

Sinopia - #CB410B

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Reddish Orange - #F8481C

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Orangey Red - #FA4224

Bright Orange - #FF5B00

Similar to Bluish Grey / Gray:

Regent Grey - #86949F

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Denim - #3B638C

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Kashmir Blue - #507096

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Blue Zodiac - #13264D

Fire and Ice - Submitted by verypiratecat

#9b0d0d #cd270d #ff410d #76939d #3a718e #1f2e4a

[mandy-malady]

Some skies I probably haven't posted yet

[astheforcewillsit]

In which the Kaminoans provide a miseducated version of what and who the Jedi are, and the clones realize that at their core, the Jedi are religious monks.

Cultural misunderstands are bound to ensue due to this.

(based of the scene where Obi-wan and Anakin bow to Echo and Fives after they join the 501st)

(original ao3 link)

The first time Obi-Wan bows to Cody, he does so low and Infront of the men. All of the men. It is not a simple incline of his head. It is a slow, low dip.

Ancient practiced movements, just as Qui-Gon had taught him.

They had had saved his life. Again And he is truly grateful. He is still unused to a war like this. His very essence as a Jedi protests his involvement in it.

But he moves only by the will of the Force, and it has brought him to such a moment like this.

Before he completes his gratitude, he is stunned by a collective gasp amongst the men and an arm on his shoulder. The Force tells him it is one of the younger men.

There's a sharp reprimand from Cody, and the arm is off, though the Force is still disturbed

(The touch had not bothered Obi-Wan, in between droids and separatist leaders, it has been the kindest touch he's had all week.

It doesn't bother him, the touch of the clones. He enjoys their presence. Though he can feel the fear palatable through the Force. He hopes that one day they'll be less terrified of him. That they will know him for the human he is. Force knows the damage the Kaminoans have done to the reputation of the Jedi Order.)

Cody steps up as Obi-Wan rises--clearly the action disturbed the peace.

"Sir, I-"

"Clearly I have done something to offend you." He straightens himself, "I apologize."

Cody looks scandalized. This is not going well.

He hesitates. His Commander is still a Labyrinth. He looks at the face of Jango Fett everyday, though he sees none of the darkness clouded in those eyes. With Cody, it's almost fear.

"Sir, there is no need to apologize to us. it's just..."

"it's a sign that we've done wrong and have to ask for forgiveness, usually done by subordinates--cadets to the Kaminoans or the bounty hunters that trained us. When you did that, well...it looked like you thought you did something wrong, that maybe you were asking for forgiveness or was ashamed," another clone (Boil, Obi-Wan reminds himself, the "shiny" who touched him) supplies with some distaste, "doesn't mean the same for you sir?"

Obi-Wan could confuse them, because technically Jedi do bow for forgiveness too. But not in shame, never. He decides to keep it beginner level friendly today.

"I am expressing gratitude. You saved my life," Obi-Wan responds as if it is the most obvious thing, "Though If I have done anything wrong, it has simply been confusing you all. I will not bow if it makes you all comfortable."

His culture is important to him. It his his blood and his soul, but these men are not here with him of their own accord. These men are making sacrifices just by being alive, Obi-Wan could stand to be more like them. Though his heart pulls at the thought of abandoning something so natural to him.

"No sir, that is not necessary," Cody seems to relax in front of him. His anxiety has dissolved into gentle waves in the Force, and instead Obi-Wan senses a small bit of curiosity.

It reverberates through the company.

"Should we..."

"Oh Force no, if bowing has been negative to you please do not do it on my account. And I will alter it," he makes an example, inclining his head just slightly and putting a hand to his chest, praying he doesn't offend, "I am grateful to you all, and I endeavor to show it."

"Only what you're comfortable with, your culture is sacred to you, I know this," he adds, "and if you never tell me anything, I will be okay with that."

"Can you...can we learn more. The kaminoans didn't tell us you did that, they didn't tell us you were...priest--"

"Monks," Obi-wan corrects and smiles at the clone who asked, Waxer the Force tells him, "And I will till you all you want to know about the Jedi, if you feel comfortable telling me about who you are."

There's reluctance in the Force. They may not be Mandalorians, but they carry the secrecy of their beliefs with them. He doesn't blame them. They have so little that belongs to them, the clones. Why give what scarcity they own away to the man who they were handed to on a silver platter.

The Force radiates skepticism, but also trust.

Good, the gap is slowly bridging.

[paperultra]

space cadet.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 831 words Warnings: None

reverie (noun): a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream

You imagine the thoughts in your head as a forest of kelp at the bottom of the sea: dense, beautiful, brimming with life and all too easy to get lost in.

They’ve caused you trouble in the past. Countless rapped knuckles, letters sent home to your parents, walking into trees on the way home from school. But how could you resist? Empires rose and fell over the course of an hour inside your mind, mighty beasts swore their allegiance to you and the four seas were yours to explore. The childhood you had in the real world was so dull and lonely in comparison.

When you ran off and joined the Straw Hats, you finally had the excitement you had so craved. And yet, even now, your mind still wanders.

“If you swab the deck any more, we won’t have any left, sweetheart.”

Only a select few can bring you back.

You blink rapidly, the clouds dissipating as you stop scrubbing and look up. Sanji’s already smiling when you meet his gaze.

He lifts his hands; one offers a plate of shortbread cookies, the other a glass of milk.

“I’m going to guess that you haven’t had a break in a while,” he says. “Am I right?”

A break? Sending him a perplexed frown, you lean on the handle of your scrub brush and glance over your shoulder.

The side on which you had started winks back at you from afar, wood gleaming under the afternoon sun.

Oh.

“I … I guess so,” you reply slowly, turning back to him. It’s only then that you register the saltwater washing over your feet and the ache in your muscles. “I didn’t even realize …”

He shakes his head and chuckles, leading you to some nearby crates to sit down. “Too caught up in your stories again? I’m almost jealous that they get to spend so much time with you.”

“I don’t mean to make you worry.”

“Loving someone means worrying about them from time to time.”

He winks, and you smile, flustered.

“I see,” you say quietly. “Then thank you for worrying, Sanji.”

“Of course.” He hands you the glass of milk, then picks up a cookie and taps it against your lips. “Now, this is my best batch of sablés. You have no idea how hard it was to keep Luffy from eating them all in the kitchen.”

“I have some idea,” you drawl amusedly, taking a bite.

The cookie breaks with a gentle snap. It crumbles delightfully in your mouth, sugar and butter dancing on your tongue. A pleased hum rumbles in your throat before you wash it down with a gulp of cold milk.

“What do you think?”

“I think I might eat the whole plate right now,” you say, taking the other half of the cookie.

He grins. “So you like them.”

“They’re delicious.” Picking up another one, you hold it in front of his face. “Here.”

Sanji’s gaze remains locked with yours as he leans forward to take a bite of the cookie, his lips brushing your fingertips in an impromptu kiss before he pulls away. He chews thoughtfully. The action should not look as good as it does.

“My best batch, as I’ve said,” he tells you once he swallows. “But I’ve tasted sweeter.”

You tilt your head. “Where?”

His mouth curls into a smirk, and he places his fingers under your chin to bring your face closer to his. Your noses touch and you can feel his answer against your lips as he murmurs, “Right here.”

The rest of the crew may also have the pleasure of eating Sanji’s food, but they do not share your privilege of knowing just how talented he is at kissing.

He sets down the plate and lifts his hand to cup your jaw, meeting your lips and letting out a soft sigh before pressing his lips more fervently against yours. You can taste the smoke on his tongue, a constant underneath the warm sweetness of sugar and the saltiness of butter. Your eyes flutter closed, and you reach up to cradle the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly. The groan he lets out sends tingles down to the tips of your toes.

“Sweetheart,” he pants, and the longing in his voice would’ve made your knees buckle if you were standing, “I won’t be able to stop if you keep doing that.”

You put your glass of milk down so you can bury both hands in his golden hair. Your forehead touches his. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Maybe it is,” he mutters.

You bring him back in for another searing kiss that Sanji returns just as eagerly.

Yes, you value your time alone with your thoughts. They are a forest of kelp at the bottom of the sea, beautiful, countless, and wild.

But as easy as it is to get lost in your thoughts, it is infinitely easier to get lost in him.