#cid x nero
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
snotsloth · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
XIV Rarepair Week Day 6: Fight! Feat. Cid and Nero.
This is kind of stretching the definition of rarepair, but even though everyone seems to agree that there's something here, I hardly ever see fanworks focused on them.
#gpose #ffxiv #xivrarepairweek #xivrarepairweek2024 #cidnero
47 notes · View notes
thearthangout · 11 months ago
Text
5 notes · View notes
koukouture · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
"So... does this mean you guys are getting back together?"
"Don't be stupid."
"No."
"Awww..."
...
"I'm hungry."
"So go eat Alpha-"
"You can have some of my lunch, Ely."
"Oh so you're offering the kid lunch and not me? This is why we broke up, Garlond."
"She's a growing girl-"
"Cid, I'm twenty three..."
3 notes · View notes
punningway · 1 year ago
Text
Cid Nero Meme I made
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
shalnarkryuseihh · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Mmh… You’re going too deep Cid-Sama…! 🥺🎀
drawn by admin sailor posted by admin vinx
Satire 😫🦧🐬🐬🐬🐬🐬🌈🌈🌈🌈🫧🫧🫧🫧🌫️🌫️🌫️🌫️🌫️🌫️💫💫💫💫💫💫🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🪱🪱🪱��🪱🪱🦧🦧🦧🦧🦧🦧🦧🦧💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀🧯🧯🧯🧯🧯🧯🧯🧯🧯🧯🧫🧫🧫🧫🧫🧫🧫🧫🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🛁🛁🛁🛁🛁🛁🛁🛁🛁🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🚰🚰🚰🚰🚰🚰🛀🛀🛀🛀🛀🛀🛀🛀🛀🛀🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃
1 note · View note
sephirthoughts · 1 month ago
Text
Vincent's New Kid Just Dropped CH 17:
Back at the Valentine Household Where Things are a Little Too Quiet
prev. chap here
RATING: teen and up for some swears, PG-rated physical affection, and references to mature topics, such as household management
WARNINGS: a baby's wet diaper is changed onscreen. proceed with appropriate caution/approved safety equipment
Summary:
not the longest chapter but there was not a less awkward place to cut it and i didn't want it to be like 3 usual-chapters long
LOOK AT HIM. LOOK HOW SAD AND BEAUTIFUL HE IS. FORGIVE HIM FOR EVERYTHING YOU GUYS DON'T BE MEAN
Tumblr media
“Seph.”
“Mm?”
Ollie was napping, Cid and Vincent were out in the workshop with Reeve, and Nero was upstairs, probably starting an emo band or something. Sephiroth and Cloud were lying on the living room sofa, taking advantage of a rare lull in family activity, to enjoy some (admittedly PG-rated) physical affection.
Cloud lifted his head from his beloved’s broad chest to look into his face. “I was thinking. Since you’re here all the time, anyway, wouldn’t it be nice if, say, you had a space of your own? With like, four walls and, I don’t know…a door. Oh, maybe even a bed.” He frowned and tapped his bottom lip thoughtfully. “I feel like there’s a word for that…what was it?”
Sephiroth sighed. “Bedroom.”
“Bedroom! That was it! You need a bedroom. And, as it so happens, there are three empty bedrooms, in this house. Which means…”
“It isn’t my house.”
“It’s your dad’s house, though. Do you really think Vincent would have a problem with you borrowing a spare room? I think you should ask him about it.”
“I know what you think. You’ve been dropping not-so-subtle hints, all week.”
“Then why haven’t you done anything about it?”
Sephiroth looked away, shifting uneasily. “There’s not been a good opportunity to bring it up. Besides, if he wanted me to have a bedroom here, he would have offered.”
“Sephiroth. He’s your father,” Cloud said sternly. “He’s likely just as dense and socially maladjusted as you. He probably assumes you have your own place, since you’ve never mentioned anything about wanting to stay here. If you don’t bring it up, how is he supposed to know?”
“My father has had enough on his plate, since Nero arrived,” Sephiroth hedged. “I don’t want to overload him by making such a presumptuous request.”
“Overload him? You’ve taken a huge burden off him, by doing half the cooking and taking care of your sister, all the time. This household wouldn’t function without you. You at least deserve temporary accommodation.”
“I don’t do those things hoping to be rewarded.”
“Ok babe, listen. I didn’t want to do this, but I’m putting my foot down,” Cloud said, as he pushed himself up from the sofa. “Either you talk to your father about using one of the spare bedrooms, before I get back, or I’ll talk to him myself.”
“Back? Where are you going?” Sephiroth asked, getting up as well.
“Midgar. Gonna check in on Tifa and the kids.”
Sephiroth’s expression darkened. “Why?”
“They’re family, Seph,” Cloud answered wearily.
“They are not.”
“They are to me. People don’t stop being family when you have a falling out.”
“A falling out? Is that what you call it?”
Sephiroth’s normally gentle voice dripped with disdain. Whenever this topic came up, he was the most like he’d been, before. Sharp and acerbic, pupils contracted to slits in the blue-green irises, with an expression of icy hauteur on his beautiful face.
Fortunately, Cloud knew him too well, now, to fault him for it. Arrogance and sarcasm were Sephiroth’s last line of defense, when he felt particularly insecure and helpless. There was nothing that made him feel more insecure and helpless than Cloud’s foundling family, back in Midgar.
“I don’t expect you to forgive them, but I can’t just ignore our entire past and act like Tifa doesn’t exist,” he said, as he pulled on his boots. “Even if I could, I have a responsibility to those kids.”
“You are referring to the children that are not your biological offspring, and which she is currently raising with another man.”
“Yeah, well, at least Barrett’s there for them. That’s more than I ever was.”
A sneer curled Sephiroth’s pale lip. “Indeed, how selfless of him, to take time from his busy schedule, to care for the woman and children he voluntarily acquired. Acquired while you were away from home, as I recall.”
“I was away from home for almost a year. You can hardly blame him for using that time to win over the woman he’d always loved, who I was never romantic with, in the first place.”
“I can, however, blame them both, for treating you as deranged and dangerous, and organizing others to ambush and attempt to abduct you, rather than hearing you out.”
“They learned their lesson, didn’t they? And they heard me out, afterward.”
“Because they had no choice.”
“Yeah. Well. The important thing is that they know where I stand, and what happens if they try to corner me. No point dwelling on it.”
Sephiroth crossed his arms defensively. “I do not understand why, after they behaved the way they did, toward you, you would continue to associate with them. You are only putting yourself in a position to be mistreated again.”
“It’s not about that, Seph. Regardless of what happened between the adults, the kids still think of me as a parental figure. Denzel’s counting on me to be there for his first bike race. I’m not gonna let him down.”
Sephiroth was still stewing as he walked Cloud to the front door, and gave a disconsolate ��hmph’, when Cloud kissed him goodbye, which made Cloud laugh and kiss him again.
“You’re adorable when you’re acting like a wet cat. I’ll be back in a few days. Promise me you’ll talk to your father about the spare bedroom, before then.”
“I promise,” Sephiroth said gloomily.
Cloud turned back and waved, after he started up the big, black Fenrir bike, and then roared away down the private drive, leaving a trail of dust clouds behind. Sephiroth lingered in the doorway, gazing the way he’d gone, well after he was out of sight.
“You really should lock that down,” Nero’s serpentine voice said, behind him, drawing him out of his ruminations.
Sephiroth turned an unfriendly eye on him. “What?”
“Your little lover, running off to see his friends, without you. Tsk tsk.”
“So, you were eavesdropping.”
“Who knows what they’ll say to him,” Nero went on, as if he hadn’t heard the remark. “Who they’ll introduce him to, hoping he’ll be enticed to greener pastures. If I were you, I would lock him down, before it’s too late.”
“What do you mean ‘lock him down’? Is he a military facility?”
Nero rolled his eyes. “I mean marry him. Make him truly and legally yours, before someone else tries to get their hooks into him.”
“Cloud and I do not need a certificate from some paltry human authorities, to declare our bond. We are not separable, by any power in this world, or otherwise.”
“Then why are you so jealous of his ex-lover and their children?” Nero asked pointedly, raising his black brows.
“They are not his children! And she was never his—why are you even talking to me? Do you enjoy provoking me, that much?”
“I am simply attempting to be a good brother,” Nero replied righteously. “Since it’s clear to me that you are staggeringly inept in matters of the heart, I thought you might benefit from some advice.”
“Ridiculous,” Sephiroth snorted. “I’m a grown man. You are a child. What could you possibly have to teach me, about such things?”
“Correction: you are a ghost. And child or no, I’d wager I’ve got more relationship experience than you. Tell me, were you a virgin, when you bedded that pretty blonde?”
“Was I—that’s one of your business!” Sephiroth fired back.
“So, yes,” Nero replied glibly. “I thought so. You do seem like the mates-for-life type.”
“I am not ashamed of that, and I won’t deny it. What is it to you?”
“Then we have that in common. So, it stands to reason we also share the desire to keep our chosen mate firmly in our hands.”
“Are you coming to a point, Nero?”
“Only this: you need to stop getting your hackles up, when he talks about his ex-whatever-she-is. When he goes to visit her and the brats, you have to stop making him feel like it’s at the cost of wounding you. Your jealousy isn’t going to keep you safe. You’re only going to make yourself miserable, and hurt him in the process.”
Sephiroth clenched his fists at his sides. “I am not jealous.”
“Well, yes you are. It takes one to know one, dear brother.”
“You’re admitting that you’re jealous, with Weiss?”
“Oh, very much so,” Nero laughed. “Extremely, monstrously, violently jealous. But Weiss likes that. Your little blonde does not. Your jealousy only makes him feel that you don’t trust him, and that you want him to choose between you and his friends. You don’t see that he has already chosen you. He’s not going to leave you for them, so stop acting like he might.”
Sephiroth wavered. “He has…already chosen me?”
“You really are an idiot,” Nero sighed. “I will only say this once, and I will deny it, if you ever repeat it to anyone. There is more of you in that boy’s heart than there is of himself. Weiss is literally my other half, and even I can’t make such a claim. Cloud Strife might love you more than any person in this world has ever loved another, and yet you’re still so cripplingly insecure, that you can’t let yourself accept it.”
“I was never loved, before.” Sephiroth lowered his eyes, passing a hand over his brow. “I don’t know how to go about it. I don’t know how to say the right words or make the right gestures. All I know how to do is hold on to him, with everything I have.”
“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn, is just to love and be loved, in return,” Nero said, in an odd, sing-song cadence.
Sephiroth blinked. “Are you…are you quoting Moulin Rouge, at me?”
“Mm-hm,” Nero nodded jauntily. “Cid and I watched it, last night, while father pretended not to be sleeping through it.”
“I love that movie,” Sephiroth pouted. “Why didn’t you tell me, so I could watch it too?”
“You and Cloud were asleep in the living room, with Ollie. Cid didn’t want to wake you. Also, you’re huge and the sofa in the den is too small. It would’ve been cramped, with all of us.”
Just then, both young men suddenly looked up at the ceiling.
“Ollie’s awake,” Sephiroth announced. “Time for her bottle.”
“Why don’t you take a break and let me do it,” Nero offered.
Sephiroth paused and eyed him suspiciously. “Do you know how to warm the formula to the correct temperature?”
“The warmer chooses the right temperature automatically,” Nero riposted.
“Do you know how to feed her?”
“How complicated can it be to hand a baby a bottle?”
Sephiroth crossed his arms. “And what if she needs to be changed?”
Nero staggered under that master stroke, and went a little green in the face. “On second thought, m—maybe you should do it, after all. I’m clueless about children, who knows what havoc I may cause.”
“Nonsense,” Sephiroth said, grabbing his wrist as he was about to flee. “You’re her brother and you should know how to take care of her, too. I’m happy to teach you. Let’s go.”
With that, Nero was herded into the kitchen, made to warm the bottle, under Sephiroth’s appraising eye, and then dragged upstairs toward the little goblin’s room, looking like he was going to his own execution.
Ollie’s soft, ultrafine baby hair already exhibited some of the same gravity-defying tendencies as Vincent’s and Nero’s. Thusly, it was sticking up all over her head, making her look like a scarlet-eyed hedgehog, as she stood in the crib on wobbly legs, hanging onto the rail for support.
“GUH-GUH-GUH!” she wailed, suddenly piteous and aggrieved, the moment she saw her brothers coming down the hall. “BABABABAAA!”
“Don’t fuss, mei-mei, I’m right here,” Sephiroth said softly, but much in the tone with which one would address an adult. “Your er-ge wants to learn to care for you, so he’ll be assisting, today.”
“Ah-ah-ah bababa,” Ollie burbled woefully, reaching for Nero, as Sephiroth lifted her from the crib.
Sephiroth spared her no mercy. “Patience, miss. You’ll have your bottle in a moment. You have to be changed, first.”
In protest of this unjust treatment, Ollie thrashed and kicked uncooperatively, as her brother laid her on the changing table and unsnapped her onesie—a candy-apple red number that had the words, ‘Daddy’s Little Devil’ embroidered in black, on the front.
There was an attached hood, too, that when it was pulled up, displayed a pair of mini devil horns. The overall effect was decidedly adorable, but Cid was no longer allowed to purchase baby clothing, unsupervised.
“The wipes are in the warmer, and the ointment, powder, and fresh diapers are in this drawer,” Sephiroth explained to Nero. “After you remove the soiled diaper, it goes in that device over there, which I’ll show you how to operate, momentarily.”
All the while, Ollie was squirming and whining with increasing energy, striving to get at the bottle in Nero’s hands. When the wet diaper came off, Nero averted his eyes reflexively, and Sephiroth was reaching for a baby wipe. Thus, both of them missed the thin, black tentacle that appeared out of nowhere, and flew toward Nero.
Nero gave a yelp of surprise, as the bottle was yanked out of his hand, making Sephiroth turn to look, just in time to see the darkness tendril that was coiled around it placing the bottle in Ollie’s eager hands.
“I thought you had control of those things,” Sephiroth scolded Nero. “Why did you let it do that?”
“I didn’t,” Nero said. “It’s one of mine, but it…it didn’t come from me.”
“If it didn’t come from you, then where in the ten hells—” Sephiroth stopped short.  
For a moment, both men stood there, staring at the baby, who was reveling in her ill-gotten bottle, and gleefully kicking her chubby legs.
“But she can’t control darkness…can she?” Sephiroth asked. “She’s only a baby.”
Nero only shook his head dazedly. Sephiroth decided he’d better test it out, first, before they decided how to proceed.
“Sorry, meimei,” he muttered, and abruptly snatched the bottle from her hands.
The infant’s entire, round head turned bright pink, as she revved up for a piercing yowl of indignation, directing all her ire at her cruel eldest brother, who had taken away her prize. As quick as a whip, the darkness tentacle shot out from somewhere on her person and jerked the bottle right back out of Sephiroth’s hand, promptly returning it to the wronged party.
Sephiroth and Nero looked at one another, then back at their little sister. There was no mistaking it, this time. The darkness tendril had originated from Ollie, and appeared to be at least partially under her control.
Sephiroth’s brow furrowed. “I can overpower and grasp your darkness strands, temporarily, but I can’t take them from you. How could this happen?”
“I have no idea.” Nero swallowed hard. “Maybe…maybe one got loose and attached to her, somehow.”
“Well un-attach it,” Sephiroth said peevishly. “Have you any idea how dangerous a baby with darkness abilities could be? To herself, as well as others?”
“They’re my abilities, you don’t have to tell me,” Nero retorted.
“What are you waiting for, then? Command it to return.”
“If I could do that, I would have! Shut up and let me think, for a second! And will you please put a diaper on that gremlin? She has no sense of modesty, whatsoever.”
Sephiroth turned to finish cleaning and diapering the little miscreant, pulling her onesie legs back on, while she smiled and cooed beatifically, as if she were one of heaven’s most innocent cherubim. Which was especially incongruous, at the moment, considering the black hair, the red eyes, and the devil costume.
Nero was in a quandary. He hadn’t intended to tell anyone about the incident, with the small spider, least of all the house’s overbearing guard-dog, Sephiroth, but there was nothing for it. They were in this together, now.
“There’s something else,” he said, with deep reluctance. The look Sephiroth gave him did not inspire a feeling of camaraderie, but he forged ahead. “A few nights ago, I think…I was with her, on the other side.”
Blue-green eyes flashed with deadly intent. “You what?”
“I didn’t bring her there! I didn’t even suspect it was her, until I came back out of it, and put the pieces together. But I have no idea how she’d be able to connect to my darkness, let alone trespass in my void, without my knowledge. I was planning to…ahem. To try to bring her back there. If she appeared in the same form, I’d be able to—”
Before he finished the sentence, Sephiroth’s big hand had already closed around Nero’s throat. “You were planning to take my little sister to the void? Give me one reason I shouldn’t twist your head off, now, and spare my father the trouble.”
Nero couldn’t answer, with Sephiroth choking him, but he didn’t have to. A shrill wail erupted from the changing table, and that little tendril flew out again, this time constricting around Sephiroth’s wrist, trying with all its might to tear him away from Nero.
“Guh-guh-guh! Ah-guh-guh!” Ollie bawled, big tears pouring down her apple cheeks.
Sephiroth let Nero go immediately. “I’m sorry, Ollie. I wasn’t really going to hurt your er-ge, I promise. I’m so sorry I scared you.”
Ollie kept sobbing and gurgling nonsense at him, till Nero got fed up and translated.
“She thinks we’re fighting. She wants us to…” He sighed heavily. “…to hug and make up.”
Sephiroth made a face. “Hug who, each other?”
“No, jackass, a behemoth. Of course each other.”
Sephiroth looked at Ollie, who was peering up at him with big, round, teary eyes. He had no power to refuse his baby sister anything, let alone when she looked so sad.
“Alright. Let’s get this over with.”
With the air of children about to take bitter medicine, the two erring brothers reached out and embraced one another stiffly.
“Look, mei-mei, everything is alright,” Sephiroth coaxed, patting Nero’s back. “No one is angry with anyone.”
“Yes, your big brothers love each other. See?” Nero added, also patting Sephiroth’s back.
Ollie stopped actively bawling, but kept watching the two warily, sniffling and gnawing on her fingers, and drooling copiously in the process. One of Nero’s purple-black tendrils emerged and snaked over, heroically submitting itself to be used as a teething toy, for the greater good. Ollie, who liked the tendrils, for their springy texture and soothing coldness, was successfully pacified.
Sephiroth turned to Nero, keeping his expression placid and his voice mild. “Please explain to me why, when you believed my sister to be at large in the metaphysical plane, you thought it was a good idea to not only conceal it from her family, but to try to take her back there.”
“In my position, would you have told anyone? Would you have said to our father and Cid ‘Hey dads, your precious infant daughter may be leaving the material plane by traversing my darkness realm, oopsie doopsie.’ How do you think Cid would handle that?”
“I suppose I see your point,” Sephiroth conceded. “But that does not explain why you would risk taking her there, again.”
“It’s not like I was going to endanger her,” Nero said defensively. “I can keep her safe, if she goes with me. If she’s running around in there, by herself, I don’t know what could happen to her. I can communicate with her through the darkness, and explain all that to her, but it’s much safer to do it on the other side. That way, even if the connection goes haywire, there’s no risk of damage to her physical body.”
“Just to her psyche and soul.”
“How do you think her psyche and soul would fare, if she were to become lost, and unable to find her way back?” Nero contended. “There is no concept of time or space, there. It is literally infinite. The only way to ensure her safety, is for me to connect with her. Once we’re connected, I might even be able to find out how she’s getting in, and stop her. If I can’t stop her, I can at least keep a tether on her.”
Sephiroth eyed him cagily. “Why are you suddenly so concerned for her well-being? This seems like a lot of trouble to go to, for a half-sister by a father you don’t even acknowledge.”
“Worry not, brother, I haven’t suddenly turned altruist,” Nero sneered. “I only care because I think she might be able to help me find Weiss. She can’t do that if her soul is lost in the void.”
Sephiroth smiled bitterly. “I should’ve guessed. It always comes back to Weiss, with you. He’s the only person that matters to you, after all.”
“What do you care? You never wanted me here. The sooner I find him, the sooner I’ll be gone, and the sooner you’ll have your father all to yourself. Who knows, with me out of the way, he may even start to love you.”
“I don’t want his love,” Sephiroth said tonelessly. “I don’t need it. I am not a child.”
“You are, however, a terrible liar.” Nero’s taunting expression froze on his face, as his slit pupils dilated in the crimson-magenta irises. “A tug…a tug!”
“What?”
“There’s a tug, in the darkness! It has to be Weiss! I’m going after him!”
Sephiroth watched, fascinated, as Nero’s eyes seemed to fill with ink, turning pitch black—iris, sclera, and all. It happened so quickly, it was almost startling. He waved a hand in front of the young man’s face, a few times, and got no reaction. He must be on the other side already.
“Alright, Ollie, let’s go see if—” Sephiroth’s blood ran cold. His little sister was lying on the changing table, staring blankly into space, with those very same eerie, ink-pit eyes. “Fuck.”
THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY yes barrett and tifa are a couple in this. like they always should have been.
29 notes · View notes
otherworldseekers · 5 months ago
Text
FFXIVwrite2024 Day 5: Stamp
WoLNero 383 words Nero has a new toy and with Severia off to investigate the Void, Cid is the one who has to deal with it.
Tumblr media
“Garlond!” Nero shouted as he burst into his nominal boss’s office. “Show me what you’re working on.”
“Seven hells, Nero, why?” Cid questioned him, knowing it was likely futile.
Nero didn’t answer him. He grabbed the first schematic his saw from Cid’s out tray and began to peruse it. “Hmmm. Yes. Yes. I see. Not bad, not bad at all.” Placing the sheet flat on an empty part of Cid desk, Nero took a small object from his pocked and pressed it against the schematic. Then he triumphantly handed it back to Cid. 
“What in the…” Cid held up the violated schematic and saw blazed across the top in brilliant red letters the words “THE NERO SCAEVA STAMP OF APPROVAL”. The lettering was surrounded by a frankly tasteless amount of gears and other bits and bobs one might associate with the engineering profession. “Godsdamnit, Nero, why would I need your stamp of approval? I’m in charge here. And where did you get that anyway?”
Nero brandished the stamp in question and smirked. “Severia had it made for me for my nameday.”
Cid gave a long suffering sigh. Once at the very beginning of Severia and Nero’s relationship, he had held out some hope that the Warrior of Light might have a calming affect on his old friend. But as time passed it became apparent that quite the opposite had happened. For some unaccountable reason, Severia Zetsuen was tremendously fond of Nero Scaeva just as he was; brash, arrogant, reckless, ambitious, proud, the whole nine yalms. In the end, her affection for the Garlean deserter only spurred him on to greater heights of achievement and assholery. 
And Nero didn’t really consider anyone but Severia and Cid to be worthy of his time or attention. So Nero got to be Cid’s problem whenever Severia was off on one of her planet saving missions or some such. Just like her to give him a toy like this and then scarper off to the Void. 
Cid rubbed his temples as Nero rifled through the other papers in his trays looking for things to approve. He’d never been a religious man for obvious reasons, but just then he was willing to pray to any god for Severia to get her ass back to Eorzea as soon as possible. 
21 notes · View notes
janzoo · 1 year ago
Text
The Ironworks Gang Hands Out Starlight Gifts
Read it on AO3 above (registered users only) or under the readmore below -
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cid nan Garlond/Nero tol Scaeva, Maelie/Ronantain Characters: Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) - Character, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) - Character, Cid nan Garlond, Nero tol Scaeva, Biggs (Final Fantasy XIV), Wedge (Final Fantasy XIV), Maelie (Final Fantasy XIV), Ronantain (Final Fantasy XIV) Additional Tags: Oneshot, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, Christmas, Starlight Celebration (Final Fantasy XIV), Nero tol Scaeva being Nero tol Scaeva, Fluff, Funny Summary:
It's Starlight in the Firmament, and the Ironworks Gang is joined by WoL Kyler Drake in handing out gifts!
Oh wait, what's this? NERO TOL SCAEVA WITH THE STEEL CHAIR?!
                Kyler smirked as he watched Cid fiddle with his Starlight hat again. “You know, it would probably sit better if you removed your goggles.”
                Cid shrugged. “It’ll stay long enough as it is. We’re nearly out of toys, anyway.”
                A fair point. Kyler’s toy sack was considerably lighter, and from the looks of it, Cid’s, Biggs’, and Wedge’s were, too. Wedge waved farewell to two children as they departed with new toys in tow. His toys had been particularly well-received, being a new invention: a toy airship that could shift and click until it transformed into a warrior. He called them Changers, though he could’ve called them anything and the children still would’ve been clamouring for them. Kyler’s toy toolsets came in at a close second in popularity. He took a particular note of pride and hope in inspiring the next generation of craftspeople and engineers, especially in the Firmament. After one thousand years of destruction, Ishgardians seemed ready and eager to see what they could create.
                “Thank you for joinin’ us, Kyler,” Biggs said as he placed a hand on Kyler’s shoulder. “Means a lot to the wee ones, getting’ a gift from the Warrior of Light and all.”
                Kyler nodded with a small, sincere smile.
                Biggs continued with his other hand raised in a pointed finger. “And that’s what this whole kerfuffle’s about, ain’t it? Much as Jessie says that this’ll help promote the business as well, it’s worth doin’ even if there weren’t no business to promote in the first place.”
                “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”
                Biggs’ eyes widened beneath his goggles. “Nero?”
                Their gazes turned to Nero as he approached. Two mammets carrying a large sack followed in his wake. Judging from the corners jutting against the heavy fabric, and the uniform shape, it contained several boxes.
                Nero smirked and removed his sunglasses as he came to a stop. “Come now, genius and generosity are not mutually exclusive. There’s no reason why we can’t show off while being charitable at the same time. Especially when we’ve so much to show off in the first place. Well, I do, at least.”
                “Happy Starlight to you too, Nero,” Cid replied, deadpan.
                “What’s that you’ve got with you?” asked Wedge, one hand to his chin in curiosity.
                “Why, Starlight gifts, of course. Made by me.” Nero paused to look around. “Where can I find more children? This would be far more convenient and economical if they gathered someplace where we could find them instead of the other way around, but I suppose I can only expect so much from Eorzeans.”
                “There’s two over yonder, by that statue,” said Wedge, pointed to them.
                “’By that statue’ in Ishgard could be anywhere,” Nero remarked and put his sunglasses back on. “Come along, then. All of you, not just the mammets.”
                As fate had it, they weren’t just any children – at least, not to Kyler. As they approached, they overheard Ronantain pleading with Maelie.
                “You will be welcome in our house, Maelie, I promise.”
                “Are you sure? I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout fine dinin’, and I ain’t got anything fancy to wear.”
                “My uncle could teach you the basics of proper dining etiquette. And we could buy you a dress. Consider it a Starlight present.”
                Kyler’s smile widened as they reached the children. “Hello Maelie, Ronantain.”
                The children looked to him. Maelie gasped. “Kyler!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. “Happy Starlight!”
                “Happy Starlight,” Ronantain added with a smile and a bow of his head.
                “Happy Starlight,” returned Kyler with gentle laughter in his voice. “Can we have a moment of your time?”
                The children nodded with Maelie’s “uh-huh” and Ronantain’s “very well”.
                “Judgin’ from those Saint hats most of you are wearin’, are you all Helpers?” asked Maelie.
                Kyler nodded.
                Nero stepped in with a flourish of his arms. “I hope you children are ready for the greatest Starlight gift you’ve ever received. Everything before will pale in comparison, and everything to follow will be rendered underwhelming. Kyler, if you wouldn’t mind…” He indicated to the sack the mammets were carrying.
                Wedge nudged Nero’s leg and hissed under his breath, “You’ve got some nerve asking him of all people to be your bag boy!”
                Nero glanced down. “We’re Helpers today, aren’t we? Why wouldn’t Kyler want to help me bestow these children with gifts?”
                “It’s fine, Wedge,” said Kyler. “Today, at least.” He gave a pointed look at Nero, who shrugged with a victorious grin. Kyler retrieved two of the boxes from within the sack. He handed them to Nero, who handed them to the children.
                Ronantain read the text printed on the top of the boxes: “’Nero tol Scaeva Presents The Simple-Serve Oven’.” He arched an eyebrow. “Do you mean to say that there is an entire oven in this box?”
                “I do. Well, a miniature one, inspired by the cooking sets used by those of the Culinarians’ Guild but designed to be so simple that even tykes such as yourselves can use them.”
                “’Tykes’? With all do respect, ser, we may be children, but we are not infants,” Ronantain countered, his brows furrowed.
                Nero shrugged. “Children these days, my goodness. So ungrateful.”
                Maelie finished prying open the top of her gift box and cooed. “Ronantain, I think this really is a wee little oven.” She looked to him, excitement brightening her features. “We can bake treats for the patients at Ser Vaindreau’s!”
                Ronantain blinked at her. “Oh, I-I don’t know how to bake.”
                “I can show you! I remember baking with my mum when I was little…I think. It’s not so hard – you just put the ingredients together, mix ‘em up, and put ‘em in the oven.”
                “I can share a few easy recipes with you next time I come to Ser Vaindreau’s,” added Kyler. “I’m sure the patients will love them.”
                Maelie smiled at Kyler before turning to Nero. “Thank you so much for the gift, Mister Helper! We’ll put it to good use. Won’t we, Ronantain?”
                Ronantain cleared his throat, composing himself. “Aye, that we shall. Thank you very much for these gifts.”
                “Much better,” said Nero. “You’re welcome. Run along, now. You’ve got treats to bake and, uh, more of whatever it is you children do.”
                Both Maelie and Ronantain looked at Nero with a confusion-pinched brows for a moment. Then Maelie shrugged.
                “Let’s take these to Ser Vaindreau’s and set them up. Charlemend is there already, I’m sure he can help us if he’s not too busy already,” she said. “Bye Kyler! And Kyler’s friends! Thanks again!”
                “Farewell for now,” added Ronantain. As the children walked away, Kyler and company heard him say to Maelie, “Speaking of my uncle, he and I really would love to have you over for our family’s Starlight dinner. It wouldn’t be any trouble at all.”
                “It does sound nice. And…you’d really be willin’ to buy me a fancy dress for it?”
                “As fancy as you please. Like a sentinel tree ornament.”
                The last they heard of Ronantain and Maelie’s conversation was Maelie giggling.
                Biggs, Wedge, and Kyler fell into a conversation about what to do with the dregs of their toy bags – if they should combine them all into one, where to go next to finish them off, where to go afterwards for a good drink to celebrate. Cid stood next to Nero as their discussion began.
                “I’m impressed,” Cid commented as he put a hand on the back of Nero’s arm. “Even if I’m also waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
                “There’s no other shoe. I suppose you could say that the Saviour of Eorzea is rubbing off on me. Fighting alongside him instead of against him in Garlemald had me thinking. This is my gift to him, in a sense.”
                “That and showing off your genius is something of a gift in its own right, isn’t it?”
                “Oh, very much so. And speaking of gifts…” Nero reached into his coat and withdrew a once-folded piece of paper, which he handed to Cid.
                Cid eyed the paper for a moment before taking it. “Nero, if this is another invoice…”
                Nero smiled.
                Cid unfolded the paper. His brows furrowed. “This is a…a reservation confirmation for The Bismark?”
                “For two. In two day’s time.”
                Cid looked to Nero. “I don’t know what to say…and I haven’t gotten a gift for you yet.”
                “Just be there. And remember to wipe the grease and dirt from your face this time.”
                Cid chuckled sheepishly. “Right. That much I can do.”
                “I know.” Nero lowered his glasses, winked at Cid, and put them back into place. “Ah, ‘twould seem that Kyler’s spotted some more rugrats.” The two of them – and Nero’s mammets – began following Kyler. Nero looked to Cid as he noticed him fiddling with his hat. “That would likely sit better if you remove your goggles.”
                Cid removed his hat and offered it to Nero. “Perhaps you’d rather wear it instead.”
                “I’m not feeling that generous.”
18 notes · View notes
ivorystand · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
"No, you are NOT putting weapons on the airship!"
Cid loves his partners dearly, but they certainly test his patience 😂😂
I started working on the airship stuff for the FC I made on Cactuar, and I knew just who would be in charge of it in the fic. A certain Garlean polycule with two engineering degrees... and Novia, she's there too 😂
7 notes · View notes
minarcana · 2 years ago
Note
cid gently kisses nero’s cheek. for valentione’s, then he goes back to ignoring him.
After Nero had shown up at the Ironworks out of the blue (his excuse was that he was bored, but the more correct answer was that he missed being able to more directly annoy Garlond and Co., and Jessie would still cut him paychecks for what she called 'comedic value'), he set right about inserting himself into proceedings despite pretty much everyone's pleas and threats.
It's important to feel like a valuable part of the team, and what's more valued than being better than everyone else to motivate them to try harder! Nothing. Exactly. You're welcome, Cid. Now, ask no further questions about Nero returning the absolutely exorbitant "tip"-- reasonable compensation-- he withdrew from Cid's funds after the Omega venture. Speaking of Omega, he's currently on a venture to recreate the Omega automaton that Biggs and Wedge had created, though with less sentience and more adaptable weapon capabilities.
He can tell Cid's footsteps from the sound of them, which is normal and the correct, average amount of attention to pay to your stupid rival. Nero intends to make Cid behold his artistic supremacy, the vision and mechanical skill required to make a tiny yet operable laser gun atop Omega's diminutive frame, and even gets the first few syllables of such out of his mouth.
The train of thought derails fantastically. Destruction on the tracks. Cid could probably be given a medal for actually putting Nero at a loss for words, even if it is a short-lived affliction. "Nh-- gweh-- what?"
Yet no explanation is forthcoming! Cid just leaves! He doesn't even turn his head at Nero's question! What was that about! Gross! Disgusting! Does Garlond think Nero's standards are so low as to accommodate him?! Nero's rival?! His motivation and favourite person to trouble and vex and--
Look, the moral of the story is that Nero's standards are obviously above where Cid not-even-that-great-is-he Garlond stands! And yet! There he goes, casual as you please! "Garlond!" Not even a flinch from him. The audacity! Nero's already scrambling up and out of his chair to pursue this cad. "Explain yourself! Not even a 'hello' or 'incredible contraption, my friend, you are certainly the best engineer on the star, better even than I'? At least buy me dinner!" It's the first step, Garlond!!!!! Wine and dine him first, you useless-----
15 notes · View notes
moonymangos · 1 year ago
Text
First Meeting (FFxivWrite: Noisome)
(curtain opens, showing what seems to be a small room. There are two beds, one on the western and one on the eastern wall. Between them are two tables, only barely separated, with a boy around age 12 sitting at them. One has short blonde hair and wears clothes that aren't broken, but clearly look worn, as if handed down multiple generations. The other boy has white shoulder-long hair, wearing fine brand-new clothes.)
(Both are writing what seems to be a letter.)
Dear uncle Gaius, most dearest dad
Honored benefactor
There's been some small issues Over rooming at the Academy
    But of course, I'll study properly
But of course, I'll still enjoy myself
For I know that's how you'd want me to respond Yes, there's been some small issues For you see, my roommate is
Incredibly and unusably strict And in general incredibly unpleasant to endure
    A Garlond
What is this feeling Filling my chest to the brim?
     I felt it the moment      I laid eyes on him
My pulse is rushing
   My head is reeling
My face is flushing
What is this feeling?
Fervid as a flame Does it have a name? Yes!
Envy
Unadulterated Envy
For your skill
   Your name
Your excellency
Let's just say that I envy it all! Every little trait and every sound Makes my very heart begin to pound
With simple utter envy There's a strange ecstasy In such total jealousy It's so pure! So strong!
Though I do admit it came on fast Still I do believe that it can last And I will be envying, envying you My whole life long!
Precious Cid, you are just too good! How do you stand it? I don't think I could! He's a bore! He's a peasant! We don't mean to be fallacious But Cid, you're so gracious!
Well, we’re here to learn, not make friends, right?
Poor Cid, there's a simple rule of thumb Dealing with someone whose so prude and glum Don't think it's your fault That one is just noisome! We share your
What is this feeling, filling my chest to the brim?
Envy, unadulterated envy
I felt the moment I laid eyes on him
For his skill, his name, his excellency
My pulse is rushing, my head is reeling
Let's just say we envy it all
Oh, what is this feeling?
Every little trait and every sound
Does it have a name? Yes!
Makes our very heart begin to pound
Envy
Envy
There's a strange ecstasy
Envy
In such total jealousy
Envy
It's so pure, so strong
So strong
Though I do admit it came on fast Still I do believe that it can last
And I will be envy
Envy...
For forever envy
Envy...
Truly deeply
Be envious you
Envying you!
My whole life long
Envying!
2 notes · View notes
thearthangout · 11 months ago
Text
13 notes · View notes
ivorystand · 1 year ago
Text
Yuhki is learning how to prepare dried squid for Estinien (that way he doesn't have to spend insane amounts of gil, plus Yuhki just likes to cook)
Carbon is talking to Hien about giving Yugiri the entire day to do whatever she wants, since she seems so busy with work
And Novia is still trying to figure out what to give Cid and Nero 😂😂
2/13/24
What is your wol(oc) getting their partner(s) for Valentione's day?
27 notes · View notes
punningway · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Them 🧡💙❤️
3 notes · View notes
sephirthoughts · 2 months ago
Text
Vincent's New Kid Just Dropped CH 16:
Meanwhile, in the snow-scoured wastes of the polar north:
subtitle: guess who's back
prev. chap here
RATING: teen and up for some canon typical violence and nonsexual nudity that you can't actually see cause it's just words on a screen
WARNINGS: tooth-rotting family fluff
Tumblr media Tumblr media
By the time the little girl saw the beast—a tower of black hide and sinuous muscle, huge horns and slavering maw, filled with fangs as long as her arm—it was too late to run. Too late to hide. Her final thoughts were not of her mother, or her little brother. Her mind simply went blank with terror, and she stood paralyzed, staring up at certain death, as it emerged from the darkness beneath the trees.
Behemoth, these things were called. Creatures of tremendous power and human-like intelligence. The only beasts that, even in her village of skilled hunters, children were taught to fear and avoid at all costs. There was no hunting the behemoth, for there was no steel that could pierce that hide, no shield that could resist those claws, and once you were caught in its fell gaze, no escape. All you could do was pray the goddess would grant you a quick death.
For a long and breathless moment, there was silence. The child’s hand reached up of its own accord, to clutch her goddess amulet. With a low growl, like the distant roll of thunder, the beast sprang. Her basket fell to the ground, and the mushrooms tumbled out, rolling about on the frozen soil.
Just before the jaws of hell closed upon her, a miracle occurred. A roaring rush of wind and burst of brilliant fire brought the answer of the goddess from the heavens. The behemoth was thrown away, by the blast, and crashed into the trees.
Before the girl had time to blink, the deadly beast was back on its feet, roaring with rage at having been interfered with. But its murderous eyes no longer saw her. Rather, it bounded forward and made a tremendous leap, into the air, determined to destroy the presumptuous fool who would dare to attack the king of the beasts.
An arc of flame, from a blazing crimson blade, so bright that dazzled the child’s eyes and left trails in her vision, flashed out toward the beast. But…it missed. Or it simply passed ineffectually through the behemoth's body, because nothing happened.
The girl’s heart sank, but then she saw it. A molten-red line vertically bisecting the creature’s face. Before it even comprehended how it died, the behemoth fell, severed cleanly down the center, into two halves, which crashed to the earth in bloody, steaming heaps.
Only then did the girl realize the forest all around her was burning. She ran about, looking frantically for a way out, but the flames were rampant. She was trapped on all sides. Had she been saved from the beast only to die in the fire?
Just when she thought hope was lost, through the haze of smoke, a figure descended and stood before her, backlit by the raging inferno. Its pale face was more beautiful than any woman’s, and yet its features were fierce and noble, and it had the proud bearing of a warrior. Its hair was a river of molten copper, glimmering in the red firelight, flowing over its shoulders and nearly reaching its waist. Behind it, were stretched out a pair of huge, vermillion wings, each feather tipped with gold.
Coughing and blinking away tears, the girl gazed up at it, in fear and wonder, thinking she had died already and this angel had come to claim her soul.
With a gentle smile, which seemed to contain all the mercy and compassion in the world, her savior bent and held out a hand. The girl threw herself trustingly into the angel’s strong arms, where she was held securely and whisked away into the air, leaving the burning patch of forest far below them.
The angel flew at a dizzying speed, but the girl felt no fear. She clung happily to her savior and even peered down at the landscape, as the trees flashed by. A blizzard was blowing in from the east, and the icy winds of the northern climate, especially at this elevation, should have frozen her solid. The angel, however, had surrounded them with a halo of golden fire, that kept the driving snow at bay.
She’d only been out gathering herbs and mushrooms, not far from her village, and so within a few minutes, the angel was descending again. Its black boots touched down lightly upon the inch of snow that had already fallen, and it set the girl gently on her feet.
A cry went up from the watchers, and the villagers came running, many falling on their knees in awe and terror. When the girl's parents saw her and heard what happened, they knelt down right there in the snow and kowtowed to the angelic being, which had delivered their child to safety.
It became quickly apparent that the people thought this was the goddess, herself. But then the angel spoke. It was a smooth and lovely voice, with the music of the divine in it, but it was a man’s voice, nonetheless.
“Please, do not bow to me. I am not—no, no, that is unnecessary,” he was saying, to little avail, as the chief and others rushed to bring out the finest things the village had, as offerings of thanks. “I suppose…if you insist, I am a little hungry.”
With his reluctant consent, the angel was half dragged by the women to the main village hall, where councils and communal feasts were held, and everyone got busy preparing an impromptu banquet. The small children who were trailing after him gasped and ‘oohed’ when he retracted his enormous wings, and began clamoring for him to bring them out again.
The girl he’d saved, whose name was Atka, tossed her braided head and scolded them to behave themselves. Her parents were just regular tribesmen, with no special status, but after being personally saved by the angel of the goddess, she had climbed to the sky in one step. The other children quickly did as she said, all determined to bask in her reflected glory.
To the villagers’ surprise and hearty approbation, the angel didn’t object to sitting right at the communal table, with everyone else, and didn’t turn up his beautiful nose at their simple fare, of roasted game with dried fruits and cheese, millet porridge, and coarse but fresh-baked bread.
He had a strangely archaic way of speaking their language, but everyone thought that was perfectly fitting, for an angel. The only problem was that he was rather softspoken, which made it hard to hear him over the commotion. As a result, everyone hissed and told each other to shut up, when he talked, which drowned out whatever he said, just as surely.
The chief commanded that barrels of wine be brought out and passed around, making the atmosphere festive, as Atka was made to stand up and repeat the tale of how she was saved from the beast, about ten times. All the while, people were unconsciously scooting and leaning toward the angel, as his person was actually radiating soothing warmth, like a brazier.
At length, he rose and announced his intention to depart. Of course, everyone wanted to beg him to stay, but no one dared make any demands of a messenger of the goddess. In the end, the whole village accompanied him out, leaving the feasting hall deserted, but for several opportunistic cats.
Refusing all gifts but for some dry goods, medicine, and a large, warm pelt, from the chief’s personal store, the angel finally departed. When his wings unfurled and he shot away like an arrow, into the dark, snowy sky, trailing brilliant, crimson fire, all those doubters who’d arrived late and hadn’t seen him do anything particularly angelic, were silenced for good.
After he left, Atka naturally became the center of attention. She was practically mobbed by invitations from other children to stay at their houses, and had all manner of trinkets shoved into her hands. Her father, who had been a little concerned for his daughter’s prospects, given her well-known fiery temperament, was already fending off marriage proposals from the best families in the village, while her mother and the other women got to work planning to build a proper shrine to the angel.
———
Somewhere in the windswept snowscape, of the uninhabitable northern tundra, a cyclone of crimson flames roared to life and blazed in the darkness, swirling around a specific spot, till a layer of ice and snow was melted away, revealing a massive, iron hatch. When it was sufficiently thawed, a gloved hand, belonging the very same angel from the village, took hold of the twelve-ton hatch and easily lifted it open, to drop down into the inky blackness inside.
The huge launch door had been buried in snow and frozen shut, in the brief hours he’d been away, but that was usual. When he wanted to open it from the inside, he had to heat the metal, to melt the layer of ice. The freezing over was a little troublesome, but didn’t annoy him, since it was essentially a free security measure.
Not that anyone ever trekked all the way up here, to potentially stumble upon his lair. Even the hardy, northern tribes only went up as far as Atka’s little village. No one tried to cross the mountains, into the frozen plains of the polar region. No one but him. Even Shinra had long abandoned this underground outpost, which he now inhabited.
The facility had only been a remote launch base, which was sparsely manned. The whole of it consisted of a single missile silo (sans missile), a small control center, crewmen’s quarters and lavatory, a galley kitchen, and an infirmary/lab.
The place had never been powered down, because it was a lot of bother to depressurize and close up the mako pumps, and Shinra was highly irresponsible, to say the least. That benefited the current occupant, because so long as the pumps functioned, the power would last nearly forever. Not actually forever, which was a concept he had to confront regularly, these days.
“I’ve returned, brother,” he said, seemingly to no one, as he switched on the infirmary lights.
In the center of the small lab, was a restorative pod, for one patient, which included a lot of internal diagnostic equipment, and valves at the head, which released pure, atomized mako, either manually, or according to a pre-set schedule. It was cylindrical, metal on the bottom half and glass on the top half. Through the glass was visible the body of a man, who lay unconscious inside.
“Nothing interesting, today, I’m afraid,” the angel went on, as he approached the pod. “Just a behemoth, lurking near a little hunting village. They were grateful that I’d killed the beast, which had been troubling them and scaring off game, so they insisted on giving me supper and some gifts. Speaking of which, I brought you a present.”
From a storage materia, he summoned the things from the villagers, and placed them on the steel exam table, near the restoration pod, as if to display them to the other man.
“Look at this, little brother,” he smiled, hoisting up a heavy, luxurious, snow-white pelt, which was both longer and wider than he was tall. “It’s from a snow lion, that their chief hunted. Isn’t it gorgeous? I’m going to make it into a coat for you. The leather is white and supple, but very strong, and the fur will keep you warm, even in this dismal place.”
As usual, the comatose man in the pod made no reply.
“The rest of this is mostly dry goods to add to our stock, and some healing potions, made by their medicine woman. They also gave me this skin balm, that the village women swear by. They say it’s made from rendered whale fat, but it doesn’t have an unpleasant smell, because of their filtering process and the herbs they infuse into it.” He removed the lid from the earthenware jar and gave it a few sniffs. “It does smell rather nice. I’ll put some on you, after your bath.”
So saying, he put all the things back into his storage materia, then went to a monitor and tapped a few keys, triggering the release of a glowing-green mist into the restoration pod. After peering into the pod again, he went away to shower and change his clothing.
He knew all about mako, now, but he felt no guilt taking the lifeblood of the Planet, to nourish his little brother. The Planet had a responsibility to provide for them, as its anointed guardian and its precious Weapon. That was why the child (as he thought of the tall, muscular, young man) was in this state, to begin with.
Guilt did torment him, but it was of another kind. After his little brothers rescued him and brought him to Deepground, he refused to assist them in their revolt against Shinra. Seeing, now, what had become of them, his soul was racked by remorse, but at the time, he was too weary and borne down by grief to take part in their revolution. Selfishly, he buried himself in that crystalline cave, where he fell straightaway into a deep sleep.
It seemed to him that no time had passed at all, when he was suddenly awakened from that peaceful oblivion, by the urgent distress of the Planet. There was only a moment of disorientation, however. The Planet made him aware of the time that had passed and of the significant events. The geostigma, the rise of Jenova’s remnants, and the short-lived resurrection of Sephiroth, whose mind had been fully corrupted by Jenova.
The current emergency, was that Chaos and Omega had awakened. Not only had they awakened, they were apparently in deadly conflict. He knew without the Planet telling him, that something had gone terribly wrong. There was no comprehensible reason a Weapon and its herald should fight with one another.
On top of that, his function was to prevent their awakening, in the first place. Not that he was meant to interfere once the apocalypse had begun—he was no match for Chaos or Omega—but he was supposed to be awakened in time to get ahead of the circumstances that would lead to it.
That he hadn’t, could only mean they’d awakened prematurely. Which meant someone had tampered with forces they had no right to and did not comprehend. And ‘someone’ almost always meant Shinra.
When the kings of hell fight, it’s the underlings who suffer, so it seemed that his role was to be shielding humans from the worst of it. But their fight was astonishingly brief. By the time Genesis arrived, the battle was over and the dust was settling. Chaos had defeated Omega and was nowhere to be found.
Both appeared to have been vaporized, reentering the Planet’s atmosphere, but with the last of its fading awareness, the heart of Omega cried out, in desperation and tremendous pain. He flew to the location from which the cry was coming, only to find the last person he expected.
When Genesis laid hands on his genetically-spliced brother, a torrent of memories, from both Weiss and Nero’s perspectives, flooded into his consciousness. Unfortunately, the memory streams were jumbled and fragmentary, with large gaps, due to mental and physical trauma, Hojo’s interference, and the heavy psychic toll of joining with Omega.
After ensuring that Weiss was safe, for the moment, Genesis searched for the younger brother within a wide radius of the fight area. Try as he might, he could discover no sign of Nero, nor could he sense his darkness anywhere. In the end, all he could do was carry Weiss away, to a hidden place in the north.
The abandoned missile base was discovered by the three Firsts accidentally, during extreme climate survival training. After finding that any record of it had been long purged from Shinra’s databases, the three agreed to keep it a secret between them, as their last-resort fallback point, should they ever need it. It was the safest place for Genesis, now, since the only other people in the world who knew about it were dead.
After he showered, Genesis pulled his long hair into a braid, to keep it out of the way, then rolled a medical cart over to the restorative pod. The glass cover opened obediently, letting out the acrid-metallic tang of mako, which tickled his nose and made him sneeze.
With a basin of warm water and a washcloth, he carefully bathed Weiss, and then towel-dried his body. As promised, he took out that herbal ointment and rubbed it on his flawless skin, from head to toe. It smelled lovely and gave his chiseled muscles a slight sheen, making him seem even more like a deity in repose, than usual.
“Comatose for three years, and another two like this, and you still look like a marble sculpture of a god,” Genesis chuckled. “The perfect SOLDIER, indeed.”
When he was finished bathing Weiss, he took away the basin and towels, then scooted a chair up beside the pod. He intended to read aloud to him, like he did nearly every night, but in something of a self-indulgent mood, he laid his head on that big, broad chest and closed his eyes, instead.  
Weiss’ heart beat once, every ten minutes. Slow but steady, was that infinitely comforting sound. The heartbeat that proved he wasn’t absolutely alone, in this world. That he still had someone. One with whom he shared blood and the burden of consecration, after all that they loved had been taken from them.
Genesis drifted off to sleep, that way, lulled by the glacial heartbeat of his only person. In his dream, that sound became the heartbeat of the Planet. It was dying, a long, natural death. In a few million years, it would die forever. Then Genesis and Chaos would accompany Omega, in carrying the lifestream to the new world.
In that new world, life would begin anew, civilizations would rise and fall, gods would be born and die, while they slept, deep in the earth, awaiting another end. Another planet’s death. Another journey, another rebirth, another long sleep. Such was the cycle. In their innocence, they had become eternal, and now they must walk the road they had paved.
“It’s not so terrible, as long as the three of us are together,” said Weiss, who was standing beside him at the edge of creation, gazing out into the vastness of space and time.
“But if we’re not all together…” Genesis murmured, hardly daring to look into those icy eyes. “I can’t find him. I can’t feel him. I’m afraid he—”
“We will be together,” Weiss answered calmly. “You need not worry about such things. He lives, and I will find him.”
“How do you know?”
Weiss smiled down at him, a pure, white star, shining in the void. “How could I not know?”
When Genesis woke, Weiss’ bare chest was wet with tears, and his cheekbone had left a pink mark on the bulging pectoral muscle. Which definitely meant he had a mark on his face too, he thought, as he sat up, irritably rubbing his cheek.
“Nero…”
The weak, cracked whisper may as well have been a thunderclap that shook the heavens. Genesis jolted and stared dumbly, for a moment, before he’d gathered his wits enough to even lose his composure.
“Weiss! You’re awake! You’ve come back!” he said, leaping bodily onto the man, to drag him into his arms. “Was that you, in the dream, just now? Speak to me! Say something!”
Weiss’ eyelashes fluttered, as he struggled to open his eyes. “You’re…heavy.”
“Only just woke up and already being a baby,” Genesis sniffled, continuing to hug him tightly.
Nevermind that a six-foot-two-inch tall super-soldier was sitting on his lap and manhandling him like a sack of rice, Weiss was already groggy and disoriented, and weaker than a kitten. He guessed having awakened from a coma, via fusing with a demigod, and then diving directly into another coma, would do that to a person. When Genesis finally let go of him, he flopped limply onto his back and lay there, helplessly.
“What’s wrong with you?” Genesis frowned, dabbing his tears with his sleeve. “Can’t you sit up on your own?”
Weiss, who could hardly even open his eyes on his own: “…”
“Ah, of course. I don't know why I assumed that when you woke up, your recovery would be immediate.”
Pale lips curved into a faint smile, as Weiss studied his face.
“I know, I know. I fell asleep on you again,” Genesis grumbled, giving his cheek another rub.
White eyebrows made a tiny upward twitch. 
Genesis flushed pink with embarrassment. “It’s nothing weird! I lie on your chest to listen to your heartbeat, and sometimes I fall asleep like that! It…does sound a touch weird, now that I say it aloud. But I never meant it in a weird way!”
Weiss looked down at his bare waist, which Genesis was still straddling, then back up.
“Also not weird,” Genesis defended, crossing his arms. “I was simply overcome with joy, to see you awake, and became demonstrative. Anyway, why can’t I sit on you, if I want? It’s perfectly normal unless you make it weird.”
“Nero,” Wiess whispered. “Where is Nero?”
Genesis dropped the banter and his expression became grave. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find any sign of him. When do you last remember seeing him?”
“He was with me. With Omega. Chaos. Tore us apart. There’s no…nothing else.” His voice was thin and shaky, and he was quickly becoming less coherent.
“You need to rest,” Genesis said decidedly. “We’ll talk about this when you’re feeling better.”
He climbed off Weiss and took a thick, wool blanket from the storage materia, which he spread over him, before he went to turn the lights down.
“Big brother?” Weiss called after him, in a plaintive, almost childish tone. “I’m hungry.”
Genesis smiled over his shoulder. “I’m going to cook you some rice porridge. That should be easy on your stomach. I’ll wake you when it’s ready.”
Weiss, despite his superhuman body maintaining itself in near perfect stasis, using mako alone, had not eaten in five years. That meant the process of getting his stomach used to food again had to be undertaken cautiously. He objected to what he termed ‘pointless fussiness’, saying he would be fine, but Genesis pulled rank as big brother and got his way (though, it did help that Weiss was too weak to hold the spoon on his own).
As it turned out, big brother was right. He had to thin out the porridge till it was basically just rice-infused water, before Weiss could tolerate any, without vomiting. For several long days, Genesis tended assiduously to his recovery, helping him stretch and massaging and his weakened muscles, and patiently hand feeding him, spoonful by spoonful, like a mother caring for a severely ill child.
Gradually, he was able to increase the rice ratio, and add more broth to the plain water. By the time the porridge was at full strength, Weiss was sitting up and eating on his own. He still had to be carried to the bathroom, but after a five year coma, getting this much better in a little over a week, was downright miraculous.
“Eh? Meat today?” Weiss asked, looking up delightedly from his bowl.
“Just a bit of steamed white fish,” Genesis said. “You’ve been tolerating the porridge well. It’s about time to try something a little more solid.”
He swallowed the hearty bite he’d taken. “Did you find it, here?”
Genesis looked theatrically offended. “I, feed you deep-frozen Shinra mystery meat from Goddess knows when? Never! I threw out all the old food and gave the kitchen a good cleaning, before I put our things in there.”
“There’s a lot of food,” Weiss remarked, after swallowing several more large spoonfuls. “Frozen meat, dried fruit and herbs…I can smell it all. How did you get so many things?”
“We’ve lived here for two years,” Genesis reminded him. “While you’ve been malingering, I’ve been helping remote villages deal with monsters and whatnot. They often feel moved to thank me with gifts of food and other sundries, so who am I to reject their kindness? Besides, it saves me the bother of flying a thousand miles to go shopping.”
Weiss nodded. “You don’t have any money, do you.”
“I do not,” Genesis admitted, with a scowl. “Shinra froze my personal accounts, when I abandoned ship, and my adopted parents’ estate all went to a variety of charities, since I’d been declared dead.”
“Mm,” Weiss hummed, licking the last of the porridge from his spoon. “This is really good. Maybe you could get work as a cook.”
“A cook?” Genesis sputtered. “Are you—I am the Planet’s guardian! Chosen by the Goddess, herself! You want me to get work as a cook?”
“No, I just wanted to see your face, when I suggested it,” Weiss grinned. “It’s beneath you to cook for humans. It’s beneath you to be helping them with monsters, too.”
Genesis took his empty bowl and refilled it, from the steaming pot on the cart. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, little brother. Since I’ve awakened before my appointed time, I’ve decided to use the gift of the Goddess to give aid and protection to those in need of it. I…would like you to help me do that.”
“No,” Weiss said flatly.
“As you pointed out yourself, I have no money, and neither do you,” Genesis continued, unperturbed, having expected this reaction. “We must support ourselves somehow, so unless you’d like to take a post as a menial laborer, this is the best option.”
“We are the strongest beings on the Planet,” Weiss laughed. “Anything we want, we can have. Who would dare hinder us?”
Genesis’ brow furrowed. “You mean to set yourself up as a warlord, then? Taking what you will from the weak and defenseless, simply because you can?”
“Why not? What have humans done to deserve mercy from me?”
“You know I won’t allow it.”
“And you know that at my full strength, you are no match for me,” Weiss challenged. “Will you be able to stop me?”
“No,” Genesis replied. “But I will be…very disappointed, in you.”
Weiss’ smirk vanished, and he quickly scooted over to take Genesis’ hand. “Brother, I was only joking. I have no interest in being a warlord. All I want is to find Nero, and to live peacefully with him, in a place of our own, the way I promised him we would.”
Genesis was mollified and squeezed his hand back. “I, too, wish to find him. I sorely regret that I didn’t stay, to help you, when you asked. I was stricken with grief and had no will to go on, at the time.”
“You couldn’t have helped much, if you had stayed,” Weiss reassured him. “We both saw how weakened you were, from the degradation. Even with the gift of the goddess, you needed time to regenerate.”
“So smart, seeing through your big brother, like that,” Genesis complained, roughing up his white mane, for good measure (which would have amounted to begging for death, for anyone aside from himself and Nero). “You could at least pretend to think I’m amazing and powerful.”
“I do think that. It’s just that I’m stronger,” Weiss reasoned. “There’s no one stronger than me, now that Chaos is gone.”
“Chaos isn’t dead, little brother. It’s not so easy to kill the old gods.”
“But he returned to the Planet, which is almost the same. Didn’t he?”
“He did, and he didn’t. The Planet felt Chaos return, and yet it still feels his conscious will, separate from itself.”
“I see. What is he doing?”
“He’s not doing anything. That’s part of why this is so strange. We should only be awake when we’re needed, but we’re all conscious, even though nothing is happening.”
Weiss considered this, for a moment. “I think we should look for Chaos.”
“How do you propose we do that? The Planet doesn’t let me feel his location, only his consciousness.”
“When we fought, Chaos was possessing a human. If it’s awake, then it’s probably still with him.”
“But how could it…that’s impossible,” Genesis objected. “Its power would obliterate a human’s body.”
“Not this one,” Weiss shrugged. “He was able to contain it and even control it.”
Genesis went a shade paler. “Control it? Are you certain he was human?”
“He was, at some point. I didn’t get much of a chance to observe him, because of that scheming worm Hojo. But I did hear a name. Vincent Valentine. He’s the one we have to look for. Find the man and we find the monster.”
“The situation is even more complicated than I thought, then. You are severely weakened, and separated from Omega’s body. If this Vincent Valentine is truly possessed by Chaos, and you try to fight him, the consequences—”
“I don’t want to fight him. I just want Nero.”
“What if he wants to fight you.”
“It’ll be alright,” Weiss said cheerfully, patting his back. “I’ve got big brother to rely on, now.”
“Oh…joy,” Genesis sighed.
THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY genesis i'm sick too come take care of meeeeee
NEXT CHAP. LINK
21 notes · View notes
otherworldseekers · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Fluffuary Day 1: Banter/Flirting
Cid: I can't take much more of this.
(I wanted to write a scene, but my brain is not cooperating. So have a few simple shots of Severia and Nero ignoring the situation to flirt during Omega.)
31 notes · View notes