#ff7r fanfic

[rand0msmil3z]

I have no self control lol

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50177377

[starlitcrows]

a kind warmth, a protective wing, and a forgotten flare

[au fic here]

[kookblurx]

" I love you " - cloud pov [ oneshot ]

→ SUMMARY: cloud was never good with his words. a guy who appears to be cold towards others but since a few days he seems .. different towards you. its like something is burning on his tounge.

→ GENRE: fluff; awkward; innocent; confession; mutual feelings; golden retriver energy.

→ RATING: 13+

→ NOTE: i know this is something completely different from the things i normally write. normally i only write about jungkook and taehyung but since FF7 came out .. i found my love for Cloud again. So i decided to write a pov about him. maybe more will follow on the future. also please keep in mind that english isnt my mother tounge, thanks. IMPORTANT; The city mentioned never appeared in the games. its my own interpretation! also my gaming povs mostly never matches with the games.

♡.°₊ˎ SONG FOR THIS ONESHOT

your hands were sweaty as you were sitting outside in front of the old house. it wasnt something fancy, just an old block house deep inside the woods which served as some kind of shelter for your little group. The cold evening air blew a few strands of hair into your face. It would be a while before he would come outside to join you. for a short moment you regretted volunteering for this sort of misson, not that it would be difficult. this wasnt the reason why you suddenly became so nervous. You looked up at the darkening sky with your lips pressed together. A few small stars could be seen here and there, so it was a perfect evening to search for a flower which only blooms once a month on a full moon night. The fabric of your light blue dress began to rustle as you moved back and forth on the tree trunk. its been 20 minutes already, what took him that long? you wiped your sweaty hands on your dress once again. If this continues you would have to go back inside to change again. surely tifa would raise an eyebrow, probably asking herself if that was some kind of sheme from you. making sure that "he" will really come with you. he trusted you, so you trusted him, naturally. but still, you were nervous. This would be the first time in months that you've done something alone together. The others accompanied you on every other mission. You loved your friends but sometimes you wished you had more time alone with him. from behind the old wooden door finally opened but you were too nervous to turn around to face him yet.

"are you ready?" his voice was gentle in your ear which why you finally turned around.

the second you did, you cursed yourself for not preparing a bit longer. the man in front of you was none other than Cloud Strife, your best friend, your companion and the men you had a crush on for so many months now. cloud had always been beautiful in your eyes but tonight he looked completely different. his armor was gone, so he only wore his dark turtleneck tank top, matched with a pair of dark pants. your eyes traveled down on his arms as you noticed that he also werent wearing the gloves which he was normally wearing. compared to him you looked like always. even his blonde styled hair looked a bit messy underneath the rising moonlight.

"whats wrong? did you saw a ghost?" raising one of his eyebrows, cloud crossed his arms in front of his chest. "i- uh no! you just look so different ..." "dont be silly and come ..."

without another word he finally started walking ahead. cloud never talked much, not even with you so it wasnt suprising that he didnt paid much attention to your remark. slowly you started to follow him into the woods. the both of you only heard rumours about this special flower. apparently it glows in the dark whenever moonlight hits one of its petals. beside that it didnt had any powers but tifa really wanted to plant one on her garden. at first you thought you could go alone but the second cloud heard that you were going outside at night, alone, he decided to tag along.

fidgeting with your fingers all you could see was his back in front of you. cloud even left his buster sword at home. looking down at his bare hand a slight glimmer of red crawled up your cheeks. there was only one time were you held hands with him and this only happened because of a small accident. it happened on one of the many Shinra ships. cloud was busy fighting off some of the soldiers while you were busy cracking the code to the main gate. It wasn't a difficult task as long as cloud could distract the others, but one soldier didn't seem to fall for it. suddenly someone grabbed your shoulder and pushed you backwards. you landed roughly against the nearest wall. Of course, cloud noticed this and immediately rushed to your side. he grabbed your hand to pull you behind him. the whole time he protected you, he never let go of your hand. so that was the closest you ever got to holding his hand with him. beside that nothing romantic ever happened between the two of you. after a while you came to the conclusion that cloud, probably, doesnt like you like this. in the beginning this perception was hard and you were heartbroken for days. maybe it was too much to ask for, considering how clumsy cloud is and that he doesnt really talk about his feelings.

"everything okay?" you nearly bumped against his chest, not noticing that cloud has stopped in his steps. were you sighing again? did he heard it? you could feel how your cheeks grew hotter with every passing second. in a fast motion you shook your head as cloud took a step into your direction. "are you sure? you were sighing pretty loudly. are you already tired? If yes .. dont worry we are nearly there"

you wanted to answer something but cloud turned around again. expecting to take up his pace you took a step forward but in the next moment something warm slipped into your hand. suprised your eyes darted downward and at the same time your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. cloud held your hand, he really held your hand. slowly your fingers closed around his palm. Whenever you pictured this day in your head, you never imagined that his hand would be so soft. it was like you were holding a fluffy cloud in your palm, carefully not to crush it.

with a slow motion cloud slowly started to walk again. like usual he didnt addressed the thing he just did and you were fine with it. by now you were too busy to calm down your pounding heart inside your chest. slowly cloud pulled you between some green bushes into a clearing. you could imagine that in this meadow many beautiful flowers were blooming, since its been night most of them were sleeping peacefully. As your eyes scanned the meadow, they stopped in a certain place. You immediately let go of cloud hand just so you could run to that spot.

"hey Y/N! whats wrong?" his voice rang in your ear but your eyes didnt left the spot. this was it, this wasnt a dream right?

suddenly you came to a halt and kneeled down on the ground. right in front of you were the glowing flower. it was so beautiful that you didnt even noticed how cloud kneeled down on the ground right beside you.

"its beautiful isnt it ...?" you asked him as your fingertips brushed over the delicate petals "yes ... more than beautiful" "say cloud how should we-"

the moment you turned your head into his direction you noticed that he was looking at you. cloud's face was so close and yet so far at the same time. from this distance you could clearly see his eyes which looked so beautiful to you. some other people were scared of him because of the Mako in them but for you, it was something totally normal. the glow from the flower was illuminating his face and for the first time you were able to see a slightly red shimmer on his cheeks. was he blushing? slowly you lift your hand up just to make sure youre not dreaming. mid air cloud catched your wrist with his own hand just to place it against his cheeks. at the same time your eyes widen feeling his soft warm skin at the back of your hand. what was wrong with him all of a sudden? why was he so affectionate?

"im sorry. i lied to you Y/N" "w-what do you mean ... ?" "tifa didnt wanted that flower. i just ... wanted to show you something beautiful ... and i thought such a flower would be the perfect thing you would enjoy"

you could see the hurt in his eyes, probably thinking you would be mad at him now. shaking your head you turned your hand inside of his palm into an direction so you were able to cup his cheek. how could you have been so blind? yes cloud never talked about his feelings but he always made sure to show them. especially around you he was always considerate, making sure that you felt comfortable on all their journeys.

a small smile appeared on your face "im not mad. thank you for showing me something so .. beautiful cloud."

the moment you pulled away from him to get up again, cloud squeezed your hand more tightly. in the next second your cheek was met with his chest, the soft fabric of his turtleneck shirt carressing your skin.

"cloud ...?" "Y/N I ..."

it was clear to you that he was struggling to find the right words. with a smile on your face you slowly lifted your head up, the red on his cheeks grew heavier with every second he kept looking at you. anxiety crawled up inside of you as his grip loosens around your body, what if he changed his opinion about you? a nervous chuckle escaped your mouth as you wanted to turn your head away but clouds hand on your cheek forced you to look back. there wasnt much time to contemplate what to say because in the next moment his warm lips met yours. at once your whole body felt like jelly as it immediately relaxed inside of his arms. it wasnt a passionate kiss he shared with you, it was a soft and careful kiss. clouds heartbeat hammered against your chest, it was so strong and loud that you could hear and feel it. as you wrapped both of your arms around his body to kiss him back, he slowly broke the kiss. clouds lips were still hovering above yours, just millimeters away. it was a sweet distraction from the words he finally managed to say;

"I love you, YN"

those words were enough, nothing more needed to be said. with a small nod your head moves forward to occupy his lips again. that was everything cloud needed as an an answer. the moon kept shining down on the both of you, wrapping your bodies in blue moonlight. it was like the whole forest approved of your feelings to each other as all the animals went quiet. around the both of you some fireflies took off from the grass into the sky. this moment belonged to you and cloud, no one could take this away from you anymore.

[icycoldninja]

Are you writing things right now or are you still on break to catch up with your other stuff? If not could you write a Sephiroth where he comforts the reader as she is on her period? (If not comfortable I understand ^^)

Oh, I'm writing still. Glad to see a Sephiroth request among all the DMC related stuff! Enjoy!

Period pains (Sephiroth x Fem!Reader)

Sephiroth sighed as he beheld your groaning form that was curled up on the couch with your arms wrapped around your abdomen and entire body shivering under a thick blanket.

"What is the matter with you?" He asked, nonchalantly. You'll have to pardon his bluntness, he hasn't interacted with many women aside from yourself and his mother, and his mother was only a head. He'd only ever heard about periods from whispered conversations between his female coworkers at Shinra, but had never seen one in person before.

Now he had his chance to see what a menstrual cycle does to a wonan, and he had no idea what to do.

"Y/N, I asked you a question. What is the matter with you?"

"It hurts," You whined, crunching your eyes shut as another painful cramp flared up in your stomach.

"What does?" Sephiroth questioned, folding his arms.

"My stomach," You complained, grabbing at the blanket and drawing it tighter around yourself.

"Are you ill? Stomach virus, perhaps?"

"No," You responded, shaking your head. "It's my period cramps. They're really painful this month."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Though the words sounded harsh, the tone in which he spoke them conveyed the true meaning of his sentence: that he wanted to help you.

"Get me some Ibuprofen please?" You asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Very well," The long haired man acceded, turning and disappearing into the kitchen and returning a moment later with a bottle of painkillers as well as a glass of water. "Here," He said, thrusting the items into your face.

You thanked him and swallowed a pill and water before returning to your fetal position on the couch. Sephiroth watched you shiver and sigh for a few moments before letting out a great, long, exhale and sitting down next to you, lifting your head into his lap.

"What are you doing, Seph?" You inquired, appreciating the attention but confused as to why he was giving it to you.

"My little fluffpuff should never have to suffer," Sephiroth replied, a tinge of lauguter in his voice. "I will stay here with you until the pain passes. Now hush, sleep if you wish."

Letting out a little grumble of both agreement and contentment, you shut your eyes and allowed your mind to drift into sweet nothingness, your painful cramps already fading away.

[c-o-t-o]

Your writing of Zack and Cloud's date ideas was sooooo cute! Do you think they'd get jealous of you talking to other guys, assuming they had a crush on you?

Thank you so much!! I actually love comparing these two because I feel like their personalities really are so opposite. If they had crushes on you and saw you being friendly with other guys they'd 100% get jealous.

Cloud would probably be really pouty about it but try to pretend nothing is wrong. It would be written all over his face that he's bothered by it, but the second you ask him what's wrong, he'll say it's nothing and try to do something to distract himself. He'll stay relatively quiet about it, but inside, it's all he can think about. Eventually he'll shyly murmur it out, that he wishes you'd talk to him as much as the other guys. Eventually Cloud would have no choice but to admit that he likes spending time with you, trying to convey his message without entirely confessing to you just yet. But the second you catch on and start to probe him, he'll say "never mind" becoming too bashful, walking away so you don't see him blushing.

Zack would make it SO obvious that he's jealous, and pretty outwardly. He'll try to make a joke of it, saying that you must really like those other guys to be talking to them so much. And have a "what's so great about them when you've got me!" approach to talking about it. He'll go out of his way to make sure you're always seeing him do stuff like working out or fighting in the combat simulator, cracking jokes with others as you walk by to show he can be funny... showing off, basically. But Zack will be real with you at the end of it all and would probably end up confessing to some extent because he wants you to know he really likes you and wants to spend more time with you. And then joke again about how the other guys there aren't that great, anyway.

[vincentvalentineweek]

The Nightmare Begins October 13th! 

Vincent Valentine Week returns October 13th! We are so excited to be back celebrating our favorite gothic grandpa, former Turk and overall best boy! 

Prompts: 

October 13-Surprise/Celebrate/Sweet

October 14-Sin/Technology/Coffin

October 15-Materia/Trauma/Protection

October 16-Atonement/Monster/Secret

October 17-Bullet/Weapon/Recoil

October 18-Save/Game/Card

October 19-Status Ailment/Lost/Foreign

October 20-Summon/Mistake/Sleep

Guidelines

⚰️Work must be your own that means no plagiarized art/fic or AI art/fic

⚰️Vincent must be recognizable as a character 

⚰️Work must be Vincent Valentine centric

⚰️Ships, AUs, OCs and collabs are welcome!

⚰️You are not obligated to finish the week or do every prompt 

⚰️SFW and NSFW content are allowed, just tag appropriately. 

⚰️You must wait until the event starts to share work

⚰️Tag #Vincentweek2024, #vvw24 or @vincentvalentineweek to be featured 

[rainsonata]

His Voice (1/2)

Chapter 1: His Voice Fandom/Shipping: FFVIIR / Zack x Cloud Rating: Teen Word Count: 14,342 Summary: Cloud had a nice voice. Quiet and soft-spoken, despite his young appearance, Zack knew there was still a fighter’s will behind the younger man’s facade. Having seen that determination in the events that led to their less than ideal situation, Zack fought to hear his best friend speak once more. 

=================

Waking up face first into the snow, Zack had one hand behind his neck. Groaning, Zack fought back the pain and forced himself back on his feet. Taking deep breaths, he could see his breath form into mist in front of him. Rubbing his eyes, Zack scanned his new environment. 

Surrounded by mountains, miles of uninterrupted snow stretched past Zack’s vision. As Zack turned around and called for his travel companions, the only sign of human life was the sight of a helicopter set ablaze. Two of the infantrymen were catching their breath with one of them sitting down. Only Tseng had found his footing - somewhat shaken by the ambush, but standing. 

Pressing on with the smile, Zack couldn’t allow himself to falter in such a dire situation. With no signal, they would have to arrive at their destination by foot. Taking the lead, Zack wasn’t sure where he was going, but it couldn’t be that hard to find a village in the countryside, right? It was less than ideal, but at least they were alive.

The side-eyed glances exchanged between the infantrymen spoke concern about having no leads to their destination, but there was little disagreement among the group. Identical in appearance, their helmets kept them from becoming more than an additional unit by Shinra’s design. How they navigated with any sense remained a mystery for Zack. Grateful to have backup on a mission, Zack rarely interacted with them until one caught his attention.       

In terms of appearance, the cadet appeared similar to any other infantryman. Shorter than his comrade, who was somewhere in the back of the line, the cadet surprised Zack. Walking beside the SOLDIER, he was able to keep up with Zack in a steady march without breaking a sweat. Compared to the others, he was relatively relaxed. Even Tseng was struggling to keep up, as he was wearing a black suit in the middle of the mountains. 

Read More on AO3

[sephirthoughts]

Hi I know this is a ship like no one has ever thought of but I figure it’s not too strange considering the last prompt was for Vincent and Rufus.

Sephiroth and Rufus with the prompts of: 14, 20, 16, or 19. Please I need food here I’m dying and your writing is delicious 🥲

PREPARE THYSELF, ANONNIE, BECAUSE THINE WISH HATH BEEN GRANTED.

I only did #14 things you said after you kissed me, and #20 things you said that i wasn't meant to hear, because it turned into a whole fucking thing. Actually #16 things you said with no space between us is technically in there too. ANYWAY it is a lil angsty and not a necessarily happy ending, which you tumblr masochists are into as i understand it. Enjoyeee

TAGS: rufus x sephiroth, rufiroth? sephirus?, implied mysophobia, implied autism, two stupid 15 year olds kissing, first kisses, first heartbreak (for one of them sry bby)

rating: teen and up

warnings: canon typical violence, blood, explosions, helicopters

When Rufus stepped out of the building, there was a tall, silver-haired young man, waiting by the door of the armored limousine he was to ride in, in the convoy. Rufus looked him up and down, with a critical eye.

So, this was the famous war hero, Sephiroth. He was taller than all the other security personnel, and obviously in top physical condition, but he was also very young. The same age as Rufus, in fact, which did not inspire confidence in the fifteen-year-old young master of the Shinra dynasty.

Sephiroth bowed, as Rufus approached, and waited respectfully, while he got in the car. Then, to Rufus’ astonished annoyance, the boy climbed into the back of the car, too, and sat down in the seat across from his own.

Rufus scowled. “What the hell are you doing? Bodyguards ride up front, with the driver.”

“I prefer to ride here, young master,” Sephiroth replied smoothly. 

“Well, I prefer you not talk back to me!” Rufus retorted, in indignant disbelief. “This is my personal space. Get out of it.”

The other boy didn’t move a muscle. “As long as I am assigned to your detail, I am responsible for your safety, and have scope to operate at my own discretion. I can do my job more efficiently from here, so I will stay where I am.” 

“My father owns you. That means you have to do what I say.”

Green cat-eyes blinked at him. “I’m a person. You can’t own people.”

Rufus snorted with laughter. “You sure are ignorant. My father owns tens of thousands of people. Including every single one of you SOLDIERs. Meaning you.”

“I’m not ignorant, we’re having a philosophical difference of opinion,” Sephiroth returned calmly. “You say your father owns me, and I say I am employed by him. You’ve been taught that everyone who disagrees with you is stupid or inferior. That might make you feel powerful, in the short term, but whoever taught you to think that way wasn’t doing you any favors. Underestimating an opponent is a serious weakness, and your enemies will exploit it.” 

Rufus’ pale cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment at being so flatly (and effectively) contradicted, by someone he considered to be little more than a servant. “You can’t underestimate your enemies if you don’t have any! I’ll crush them all, before they get a chance to come after me!”

The silver head gave an approving nod. “A valid strategy. But how do you identify potential enemies?”

Rufus crossed his arms. “By looking for conflicting interests, obviously.”

“Exactly,” Sephiroth agreed. “Good intel is the most important element of any battlefield operation.”

“Not the most important,” Rufus argued, so engrossed in the conversation, he wasn’t aware that the convoy had departed, and they were already turning onto the freeway. “The most important things are manpower and tech. Without those, you can’t win a war.”

“Mn. True. But let’s say you have an army of fifty-thousand, and they’re equipped with the latest in cybernetic armor. And I have an army of thirty-thousand, with good but standard armor. Who is going to win?”

“I will. I have manpower and tech on my side.”

“But then, suppose my intelligence sector has done the legwork ahead of time, and I have learned of a fatal flaw in your cybernetic armor, that not only disables it, but causes injury to the wearers, making it much easier for my soldiers to incapacitate yours. Now, every one soldier of mine can easily take out two of yours. Who will win, then?”

“That takes away my armor advantage and makes your army effectively sixty-thousand strong,” Rufus frowned. “But that’s not fair! You cheated!”

“There is no fairness in war. Any and all means of achieving victory are valid, including deception and treachery. Because if you don’t win—”

“You die.”

“That’s right.”

Rufus thought for a moment. “But, what if my army had the cybernetic armor, and we went around spreading information about its fatal defect, but the information was false and the armor was sound. Then your troops would waste their efforts trying to incapacitate mine, and they’d be caught off-guard and even easier to deal with. Then I’d win.”

The silver-haired boy nodded approvingly again. “Counterintelligence. Excellent. You’re already thinking like a warrior.”

“Since you are a warrior, by trade, may I ask your opinion on something?” Rufus asked, in a more respectful tone than he’d been using, heretofore. “Do you think that…having an escape route from a fortified location is cowardly?”

“Only if you consider strategic withdrawal cowardly, which it isn’t,” Sephiroth answered, without hesitation. “Dying because you refuse to acknowledge you’ve lost ground isn’t honorable or brave, it’s foolish.”

“That’s what I think,” Rufus said, leaning forward eagerly. “All the great generals in history have used strategic withdrawal as a battlefield tactic, and no one calls them cowards.”

Silver eyebrows went up. “You like history?” 

He looked down at his hands and shrugged. “It’s…useful. To know what people did before and whether it worked. Advancement is built on accumulated knowledge.”

“They say that is what sets humanity apart from the animals.”

“Mn,” Rufus nodded. “Look, I…I’m sorry I called you ignorant, before. My father always says that soldiers are nothing but illiterate grunts, only useful as fuel for the war machine. But that’s not the way you are, at all.”

Sephiroth crossed his arms on his broad chest. “I’m a different kind of soldier than he means, but there are plenty of intelligent and honorable men, who are regular troopers. No human being should be thought of as fuel for a machine. They are, after all, the men that make up your ever so vital manpower.”

Rufus opened his mouth to reply, but several things happened at once. There was a faint whistling sound, and the silver-haired boy’s green pupils contracted to slits. Then something hit Rufus like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of him. 

At the same moment, the car was struck by something metallic and heavy, and there was an explosion of crackling, blue electricity, that knocked the car’s systems offline, including its shield, and made the hair stand up all over Rufus’ body. With the electronics dead, the driver lost control, and the vehicle spun out and began to roll. 

All this happened in a split second, and Rufus had barely had time to realize the object on top of him was the silver-haired boy, when Sephiroth grabbed him around the waist, and with a blinding burst of momentum, rocketed them out the window, smashing right through the glass, just before the vehicle tumbled onto that side. 

A missile screamed through the air and slammed into the exposed undercarriage of the now unshielded vehicle, flipping it all the way upside-down. Rufus felt the heat on his face, as it exploded in a gigantic ball of flames, with a noise like a sonic boom, that made his ears ring.

Sephiroth landed on his feet, thirty meters away and set Rufus down. The EMP and the missile had come from attack choppers—two of them. The rest of the Shinra convoy had been struck, too, and was in chaos and flames all over the highway. A swarm of green-camo painted, armored vehicles came roaring up, cutting off any escape, from both sides. 

“Get behind me!” Sephiroth barked, as his long, silver blade flashed out.  

Rufus ducked obediently behind him, but he knew there was no point. There was a missile coming right at them. There was no way evade it. It would vaporize them both, whether he was behind his bodyguard or not. 

He clenched his teeth in anger and unwillingness. This was not how he’d imagined his last three seconds on this planet—gunned down like a dog by his father’s enemies, a fifteen-year-old virgin, who had never accomplished anything worthwhile in his short life.

Screw that, if he was going to die, he’d look what killed him in the face. He lifted his head, just in time to see a flash of silver, and the twin vapor trails of the missile, which appeared to have been split into two parts, as they went careening wildly into the concrete pylons behind them. 

What the hell had happened? Was the missile defective? I couldn’t have been what it looked like, because what it looked like, was that his bodyguard had sliced it in half with a sword. Which was not possible.

Apparently, that had been their last missile, having used them up attacking the convoy. The helicopter’s mini-gun engaged, instead, spraying the area with bullets, which the silver-haired boy was…well, he was deflecting them with his sword. 

There was no other way to describe it, because that’s what was happening. The blade was moving faster than sight, sparking where they hit, with a strange, staccato clinking, like hail on a glass window.

The other chopper quit harassing the surviving security personnel and barreled toward them, to join the first in pelting the targets with gunfire. 

Sephiroth growled with frustration. He could deal with them on his own, but not simultaneously, and if he left Rufus unguarded to take out one, the other would cut him down in an instant. There was only one way he got out of this with the President’s son alive, and it would require perfect timing.

That opportune moment occurred, when the first chopper’s minigun overheated, and had to cool for a few seconds. Right then, Sephiroth launched his sword, like a thin, silver javelin, at the other, directly puncturing its windscreen, frightening the pilot into veering away, for long enough to grab Rufus, and make a sprint for the overpass bridge. 

Both choppers recovered and a fusillade of hot lead chased his preternaturally swift steps, but it was too late. Bullets peppered the concrete barrier, throwing sprays of grey dust into the air, as the silver-haired boy leapt over the edge, with the President’s son in his arms. 

Partially obstructed by the overpass bridge, the two plummeted toward the undercity and certain death. They were falling too fast for the gunners to sight them, but it would’ve been perfunctory, anyway. There was no surviving a drop from one of the plates.

Wind battered Rufus in the face and tore at his hair as they approached terminal velocity, and kept falling. They fell for so long, he ran out of breath screaming and had to pause to inhale, before he started again. 

This fucking psycho bodyguard! Now, rather than getting shredded by bullets, he was going to be splattered all over some filthy, undercity junkyard. Perfect. His father probably wouldn’t even send people to collect his body!

He clung tightly to Sephiroth, from sheer reflex, as the ground rushed toward them, bracing himself for impact.

Impact that…never came. Instead, Rufus felt the bizarre sensation of weightlessness, as their fall suddenly slowed, in defiance of logic and reason and science. They look the last couple of meters at a gentle drift, and Sephiroth’s black boots touched lightly down in gravelly dirt. 

He set Rufus on his feet, steadying him as he wobbled. “Young master, are you alright? Are you injured?”

Rufus attempted to stop his voice shaking, but found he couldn’t. “I…I don’t think so. How are we…alive?”

“Well, I evaded the gunships by leaping off—ah, you mean the fall. I have a mastered slow-time materia.”

“O—oh,” was all Rufus could say. The other boy was obviously lying, but he didn’t have the bandwidth to care why. 

Sephiroth looked appropriately contrite. “I apologize for frightening you, young master, but it was the only option I had, at the moment. I would have dealt with the assailants, had it just been me, but protecting you is my primary objective.”

“I understand. You did well. So…where are we?” Rufus asked, looking around dazedly, at the mountains of piled debris, nearly as high as skyscrapers. And far, far above that, the titanic plates that made up the vast overcity of Midgar. He had never seen them from below, before.

“We didn’t drift much, so approximately…right below where we fell. Which puts us close to the Sector 7 slums. Those choppers will be along shortly, to sweep the area for our remains. We’d better get under cover quickly.”

It took less than a minute for Sephiroth to find a partially collapsed section of antediluvian aqueduct pipe, which was twice as tall as he was, and had room enough to park a vehicle, to say nothing of sheltering the two boys. 

Once inside, he cast some kind of gravity spell, and drew a pile of debris over the opening, to conceal it. Just then, the thrum of helicopter rotors became faintly audible in the distance. 

Rufus felt a shiver up his spine, and the irrational urge to crouch down, despite already being under cover. There was enough sunlight filtering in through the piled scrap and rust holes in the old pipe, so that he could see fairly well, which made him feel far too visible.

“What are we going to do if they find us?” he whispered to Sephiroth. 

“They won’t,” Sephiroth answered, at normal speaking volume. “They’re only going to do visual recon, for due diligence. They’re confident that we’re dead.”

Sure enough, the roar of the choppers grew louder and louder, till they could see the sun glinting off their black hulls, directly overhead. But just as Sephiroth said, they passed over the area a few times, and then flew away, their ominous thunder fading gradually into the distance.

“Here, take these.”

Rufus looked down to see that Sephiroth had produced a bottle of water and a dry-ration packet from a storage materia somewhere about his person, and was holding them out to him.

“No, thank you,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not—”

“Young master, I insist you take them,” Sephiroth interrupted firmly. “You may be in shock, and depriving your body of calories and hydration at this time could make you very ill.”

Rufus accepted the things, with a disconsolate huff. He was about to unscrew the lid of the bottle, when Sephiroth took him by the shoulders and looked gravely into his face.

“Listen carefully, because I only have time to say this once. My phone was destroyed by the EMP, as I can imagine yours was, as well. We are far from help, with no means of contacting anyone, for the moment. Do not leave this hiding place, and do not move that debris, no matter what. There are all kinds of monsters out here, in the scrap wastes. If I am not conscious by sunset, take my sidearm and run north, till you get to the dirt road. It’ll take you to the slums, due east of here. Do not tell anyone who you are. Just find someone with a phone and call for help. Whatever you do, you must get out of the waste before nightfall. Understood?”

“Wait, what the hell do you mean, if you’re not conscious?” Rufus demanded. “Are you planning to take a nap?”

It was only then that he observed the other boy’s face was deathly pale. Then he noticed the bullet holes in his black pullover and leather coat. And then the blood pooling at his feet. 

“Sephiroth! You—you’re hurt!” he exclaimed, in horror. “Why didn’t you tell me? What do I do? How do I help?”

“The primary objective is your safety. Do exactly as I’ve said. Do not worry about me, I’ll be…I’ll be fine…”

As he spoke those last words, Sephiroth’s voice dissolved into a slurred murmur. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he pitched over. Rufus grabbed for him to catch him, but the boy was over six feet tall and weighed at least two hundred pounds. Resultingly, smaller, slighter Rufus only wound up getting dragged down on top of him.

He scrambled off, in a panic, not wanting to make the injuries worse, and knelt beside his bodyguard. His own white blazer and sweater were splotched all over with crimson, which would have made his skin crawl at any other time, but he couldn’t bother about uncleanliness, at the moment.  

Frantically, he searched Sephiroth’s pockets for a healing materia, but only found that storage materia. There was nothing in it but more water and rations, and a field kit for dressing minor injuries, which he had no idea how to use, anyway. 

Ok, think! He’d heard somewhere that you put pressure on deep wounds, to stop them bleeding. Forcing himself past his bone-deep aversion to touching bodily fluids, he pressed down on the most central holes, as hard as he could, while blood sponged up through Sephiroth’s black pullover and soaked his hands. But it was in vain. Sephiroth had serious wounds in more places than Rufus had hands to press on them. 

Close to panicking, Rufus tried to check for a pulse, but had no idea how to do that, and couldn’t tell if his failure to find one meant he was incompetent, or that there wasn’t one to be found. Sephiroth’s face was paper-white, now, and his chest had stopped moving. He wasn’t breathing. 

“Sephiroth! Sephiroth! No, no, no!” Rufus sobbed, yanking on the lapels of the other boy’s bullet-torn leather coat, as if he could shake him back to life. “Th—that’s an order, SOLDIER! Do you hear me? You’re not allowed to die! You have to protect me, so you can’t die! Sephiroth!! Please, don’t die! Please…please.”

Weighed down by despair, he curled over, pressing his forehead to Sephiroth’s chest, sobbing like a baby, over the body of the boy his own age, who had saved him, at the cost of his own life. 

Men were killed in action all the time. It was just a collateral cost of warfare. He knew this, and had never felt anything one way or another, about it. But seeing it happen, before his eyes, especially to such an obviously special and worthwhile person, felt completely different. 

It was real. It was personal. It was wrong and horrible and tragic and sickening. And it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair! This one belonged to him! Fate had no right to take him away! 

Buoyed up by righteous anger, he forced himself to swallow the bottle of water, like Sephiroth told him, but couldn’t even make himself think about eating the dry ration. He was sick to his stomach and his hands were covered in sticky, drying blood. 

While he was using the rest of his water bottle to try to rinse his hands, he realized that there was less blood on the ground than he'd expected. Only his watery spatters, and the puddle that had been at Sephiroth’s feet when he fell. If he’d stopped bleeding that quickly…then it must be because his heart had stopped. Which meant he was really dead. 

Flatly refusing to accept this, Rufus sat cross-legged beside him, clinging to his gloved hand. Sometimes whispering prayers to the goddess to bring him back, but mostly in silent grief. He never believed the gods had any power to help people, and they were little comfort to him, now.

Only when the sun sank below the unseen horizon, far away, and it began to get really dark, in their tiny hideout, did he move. Heavily and reluctantly, he got up and strapped on Sephiroth’s sidearm, preparing himself to make a run for the dirt road, and hopefully the relative safety of the slums, where there were a lot of people keeping the monsters away.

There were no more excuses to linger. He was as ready as he was going to get, and it was now or never. Rufus knelt down beside his erstwhile bodyguard, to say goodbye. 

“I won’t leave you here,” he said, gently brushing his silver hair out of his face. “I’ll bring people back to get you, as soon as I find some kind of civilization. I—I’m sorry you died for me. I’m so sorry. I know I act like I think I’m royalty, but…it’s all a façade. I’m completely worthless, compared to you. You deserved to live. If I could trade places with you, I would. In a heartbeat.”

In the deep blue of twilight, the boy’s face was painfully beautiful. Overcome with emotion, Rufus leaned down and pressed his lips to Sephiroth’s. A single, soft kiss, to ease the ache of meeting once and parting forever. His tears splashed onto the waxen face. 

“I’ll never forget you, Sephiroth,” he whispered, against his cold, pale lips.

When he drew back, a pair of brilliant-green eyes with catlike slit pupils were looking directly into his. He gave a shout and jumped back, falling flat in the loose rubble, then immediately scrambling back up, to grab hold of the boy’s hand.

“Sephiroth! You’re alive!” His heart was pounding like a war drum, from the sudden jolt, but he couldn’t contain his elation. “You were dead! You bled so much and I couldn’t find your pulse and you weren’t breathing! But you’re alive now! You’re alive!!”

“I wasn’t dead,” Sephiroth said faintly. “I was only…regenerating. I tried to explain.” 

“You sound weak. No, no, let me help you sit up. Good, just lean on me. I’ll get you some water.”

Rufus retrieved another bottle of water from the storage materia and sat with his arm around Sephiroth, watching attentively while he slowly sipped it. 

“I heard your voice, in the dark, calling me back,” Sephiroth said, after he’d drained the contents of the bottle. “I thought I dreamed it. But then I woke up, and you were holding my hand. Talking to me. I was going to tell you that you’re not worthless, and it was both my duty and honor to die for you. But…you kissed me, and I didn’t have a chance.”

Rufus blushed like an apple, but the deep shade of twilight concealed it. “I��uh. I’m sorry. It was just that—” He frowned suddenly and touched his lips. “Did I…bring you back with a kiss? Like a prince in a fairy tale? No, of course not. That’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Sephiroth said, squeezing his hand. “The lifestream runs through all of us. Maybe you gave me some of yours, and it made me stronger. Helped me wake up faster.”

Rufus swallowed hard. “You’re still really weak, though. We could…we could try it again. Just to see if it helps.”

“Right. To…prove the hypothesis,” Sephiroth agreed.

“Hypothesis,” Rufus murmured, wide-eyed and suddenly trembling with nervousness, as they leaned in, so close that he could feel Sephiroth’s warm breath on his cheek. 

Their lips brushed together, timidly at first, then pressing more eagerly. Rufus let his eyes fall closed and his mouth open, tongue sliding forward to caress Sephiroth’s.

His heart pounded in his ears, and his stomach did flips like he was on a roller coaster. His first kiss! Er—well, his first real kiss! It was clumsy and faltering, and neither had any idea what they were doing, but it was also perfect and wonderful and everything he’d ever imagined. He finally understood what all the fuss was about. 

When they drew apart, they were both breathless and flushed with heat, lips wet and kiss-bruised. Rufus still had his arm around Sephiroth’s waist, and Sephiroth had wrapped one of his around Rufus, as well. 

“Sorry if that was weird. I…I never kissed anyone before,” Sephiroth said, shyly lowering his eyes. 

“Neither have I,” Rufus admitted. “It was a little weird, because I always thought my first kiss would be with a girl. But…I’m glad it was you.”

The green cat-eyes came up again, to look into his, slit pupils dilating slowly. “You are?”

Rufus nodded. “Mn. I like you, and you're really handsome. You also saved my life, so we have strong emotional context. Also, you work for my father, and we both know a relationship would never be possible, between us, so there’s no danger of getting too attached, and things becoming messy and complicated later. It can just be what it is.”  

The slit pupils contracted again and Sephiroth seemed to freeze for a millisecond, but he smiled, what appeared to be a soft, placid smile. “Yes. It can just be what it is. We should go, now. The sooner I get you home safe and sound, the better.”

So saying, he hopped up and pulled Rufus to his feet, accepting back his sidearm and materia. When they were ready, he waved his hand, and all the piled up junk covering the entrance to their pipe was blown off, like a pressurized lid. Then they stepped out of their shelter into the labyrinthine canyon of rust and dry-rot and assorted garbage. 

Sephiroth took Rufus by the hand and helped him navigate the small slope, upon which debris was loosely packed and especially treacherous in the dark. Rufus intended to keep holding hands, even after they’d got down, but Sephiroth firmly withdrew his from the other boy’s grasp. 

“No need to be afraid, young master,” he said, in a tone of calm reassurance. “I’m here to protect you. Nothing can harm you, while I’m with you.”

Rufus nodded and followed after him. 

As they picked their way through the debris, his blonde brows knit together, in thought. He should be happy, to have such a strong and valiant protector, who would suffer serious injury for him, and even let Rufus kiss him, all while remaining composed and professional, and taking such care in looking after him.

But…he couldn’t shake the vague feeling that he’d somehow lost something precious. And now that it was gone, it was gone forever.

[rune-writes]

Irreplaceable Memories

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Word Count: 1012

Rating: Gen

Pairing: Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough, Aerith Gainsborough & Tifa Lockhart

Summary: Having left Kalm, the party set up camp in the fields where, upon Tifa's prompting, Aerith reminisces about the person who gave her the pink ribbon.

Notes: written for @zerith-week 2024 Day 2: Irreplaceable Memories

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

“Who was he?” Tifa asked as she settled down next to Aerith. “The man who gave you your ribbon.” 

Aerith stared, dumbfounded. 

“Ah, sorry, I overheard your conversation with that stall owner in Kalm,” Tifa hastily added. She bobbed her head in contrite as Aerith recalled the woman—middle-aged and wearing a plain brown smock—who had called her over to her stall to peruse her wares. It had been an innocent remark, Aerith had to admit. Something about how pretty her hair was and that a new ribbon was just what it needed. The woman hadn’t quite spoken it, but Aerith had taken it to mean that her current ribbon was worn and old. She might have been a bit curt with her response, now that she thought about it. 

Aerith tugged at her ribbon and it quickly came loose. 

“Does it look worn?” she asked instead.

Tifa cocked her head to the side then shifted her gaze to the fabric on Aerith’s hand. “Did she say that?” 

Aerith shook her head. “Not really, but she said I needed a new ribbon, so I kind of wonder…” 

She kept it clean, of course—washed it every other day—but now that she held it out toward the fire light, she couldn’t help but think that the pink had indeed lost its luster, and how the fabric felt thin and brittle in her fingers. Six years, was it, since the day Zack bought the ribbon for her? Not a day went by when Aerith didn’t don it on her hair. 

“I got it from someone,” she said at last, then added, “A special someone.” 

“Your boyfriend?” 

Aerith smiled wryly at the word. “Kind of. He… left five years ago.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“We didn’t break up or anything like that, just—” Her eyes flitted upward, scanning their surroundings. The only other presence in their small camp was Red XIII, who was dozing quietly on the other side of the fire. Once she was sure Cloud and Barret weren’t returning any time soon, she dropped her voice once more and said, “He left on a mission and never returned.” 

Tifa’s eyes grew wide as the implication dawned on her.

Aerith spread the ribbon between her hands, pulling it rather taut as she attempted to see the campfire through it. It really had gotten thin. All those washes she’d done, the sunlight it soaked. Elmyra had tried talking her into getting another ribbon—had even bought her one for her birthday—but Aerith had only let it air in the open, or use it to decorate her flower basket. 

They’d never talked about Zack in the years he had been missing. Or perhaps, Aerith had never let her. Countless times she’d seen concern lining her foster mother’s aging face, and countless times Aerith had chosen not to see. Because if she saw—if she acknowledged the gaping maw in her heart—the tides of pain and grief that would crash over her would be unbearable. She’d felt it when her mother passed; she didn’t want to feel it again. 

“It would be a stretch to say that I saved him, but that was what he claimed,” Aerith said with an attempt at being lighthearted, but the thought of saying goodbye to this ribbon—to this first gift she had received from someone she would call her first friend—was like a lead in her mind that she couldn’t keep the sorrow from her voice. She cleared her throat, and tried once more. “He offered me one date, but I told him that was silly.” She giggled, managed it, and smiled. “So when I led him to where he could reach the upper plate, we came across a stall with all the pretty accessories you could find in the slums. They had a collection of ribbons there, and he bought me the pink one.” 

Aerith had thought she had tucked all these memories away in a safe corner where nothing, not even her, could disturb them. But once the words rolled off her tongue, the doors to her mind burst wide open, and all she had hidden rose in perfect clarity.

The grit rolled beneath her soles as heat reflected off steel plates and even more steel constructions. They’d run around the marketplace trying to catch the boy who had stolen Zack’s wallet. He’d needed medicine for a sister, and Zack had dealt with it with a style that Aerith had initially found cute and later learned that that was simply how he was. She hadn’t thought he would let the kid use his money, that’s for sure—whether or not he had the money to begin with. The thought made her chuckle. Tifa looked at her inquiringly. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” 

‘To pay you back for the “hell-llooo”... I’ll buy you something. A memento, for today.’

A familiar feeling tugged at her heart, threatening to unravel her. Aerith’s breath shuddered and her grip on her ribbon loosened. 

Seeing her apparent disquiet, Tifa reached over and held her hand. She smiled when Aerith looked at her. “So what if it’s worn and old?” she said. “It’s important to you and you don’t want to let it go. Isn’t that right?” Tifa quietly took the ribbon and moved behind Aerith, whose hair had come undone and was spilling down her back in soft tawny waves. Her fingers were soft yet firm as she combed through Aerith’s strands, expertly braiding her hair back as though she’d done it a million times before. Tifa tied the ribbon back into its place, giving it a firm tug then a pat once she did so, then grinned at Aerith. “How’s that?” 

Aerith blinked, and in her mind’s eye, she saw Zack looking rather unsure after probably his first time tying a ribbon to a sixteen-year-old girl’s hair. 

‘Does it look right?’ she’d asked.

‘Uh, I think so… Yeah, it looks great!’ 

But it wasn’t Zack’s resplendent smile beaming at her. 

The corners of Tifa’s eyes softened. “We all have things we don’t want to let go. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

~ END ~

[rottenpumpkin13]

What do you think Sephiroth and Rufus’ dynamic would be like if they were friends?

Scratch that. Can I pleeaaase have a small bit of crack fic that has them as good friends getting up to shenanigans together? I feel like they’d be the same type of idiot with different packaging. 🙏

An attempt was made! I'm also obsessed with writing them as friends. Here's another take on what their dynamic would be like.

. • .⋆｡⋆☆˚｡. °:. *⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Neither Sephiroth nor Rufus were ones to adhere to tradition, yet there was one that the two men could agree on; one routine and simple enough for them to meet in the middle. They met once every three days near the secluded cafeteria on the second level of the Skyview Hall, first thing in the morning, when the only people in line were the drowsy zombies coming off their night shifts and the coffee was it's strongest. 

Sephiroth, always punctual, stood with Rufus's cup of coffee in hand while gingerly sipping his own. They had the same order—bitter black coffee with two sugars and nothing else. 

As Rufus sailed up from the stairs. Dark Star was at his heels, dashing past him eagerly and pouncing up to Sephiroth with a wagging tail. Sephiroth smiled, setting his cup atop the small table and leaning down to give the dog a quick scratch behind his ear. 

"Any chance that has alcohol in it?" Rufus eyed the coffee disdainfully. 

Sephiroth stood back up.  "I assume that sums up your head space.” He offered the cup to Rufus, who groaned and accepted it nonetheless.

"You have no idea. You know what he said now? That I'm inexperienced, pretentious and what was given to me alone won't guarantee me the presidency.” Rufus took a sip, wrinkled his nose, and set the cup back down on the table. 

Sephiroth hummed pensively, "Implying that the inheritance is not promised to you.”

“By now, I'm beginning to wonder if it ever was.” Rufus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, blue rubber ball. 

Dark Star stood to attention, his tail wagging as he eagerly watched Rufus throw the ball across the empty cafeteria. The two men watched the hound bark and run after the ball, startling a passing group of suits who nearly spilled their coffees. 

"Tell me, what other than death is promised?" Rufus leaned with his back against the railing, resting his elbows. 

"Suffering," Sephiroth replied without missing a beat, earning a side-long look and sly smile from Rufus.

"Ever the pessimist, General.” 

"As if you asked an optimistic question," Sephiroth shot back, taking another sip of his coffee. 

Rufus watched Dark Star return with the now chewed up ball between his teeth. He quickly accepted it before throwing it down the stairs, where the dog quickly ran after it. 

"If I wanted to ask a pessimistic question, all I need to do is ask of the last time you saw your father.”

The immediate shiver that ran down Sephiroth's spine did not go unnoticed by the Vice President, who’s smile quickly faded, being replaced with a serious frown. 

"You know you don't need to answer,” Rufus slipped his arms from the railing, crossing them over his chest and looking away. “I'm only joking.” 

Sephiroth shook his head, looking down at his empty coffee cup. "I'm due to see Professor Hojo in two hours.” 

Rufus arched a single eyebrow, tapping his fingers on his arms. "Oh? May I ask what for?" 

Sephiroth tossed the to-go cup in the nearby trash ad shrugged. "The usual... monitoring Mako levels, examinations…..collections…." 

His voice trailed off, prompting Rufus to uncross his arms, turning his full attention to the other man.

"He's still—?" Rufus shook his head, truly at a loss for words given the implication. 

Sephiroth crossed his own arms now, the creak of the fabric of his coat voicing his discomfort when he was at a loss for words. 

Rufus's expression was grave. "Would you like me to... request you for something? Tseng can find a reason to need you for a mission with the Turks.” 

Sephiroth shot him a blank look. 

"I appreciate the offer, but it would only delay the appointment. You know how he is….” Sephiroth sighed. “Patient, but brutal.” 

Rufus fell silent, but only for a moment as he contemplated his next plan. "What time do you get out?"

"Around 18," Sephiroth replied. “It's a full day affair.” 

"Good. I'll be waiting for you when you get out," Rufus declared, reaching for his coffee again. 

Sephiroth’s confusion was made palpable by the crease on his brow. “There's no need,” he replied. I'm used to these appointments. Dealing with it alone afterward isn't a problem.”

Rufus shot him a look over his coffee cup. "It would be a problem for me,” he said matter-of-factly. 

"I'm not you," Sephiroth countered.

"Correct. You wouldn't last a day in my shoes," Rufus parried. 

"And you can't fit in mine, you'd trip," Sephiroth retorted with a teasing smile that made Rufus roll his eyes as he drained the last of his subpar coffee. 

Dark Star came back at that moment, looking dejected without the chewed up ball—however there was a sad piece of foam between his teeth that told them what had happened to it. 

"Just come to my apartment when you're out," Rufus said with a shrug. “Be there at 19” 

Sephiroth couldn't conceal his amused laugh. “Genesis did warn me about strange men inviting me over to their places.”

Rufus let out an unimpressed “ha!” as he looked back at the SOLDIER. "You wish I had Rhapsodos' ulterior motives. I plan on wining and dining you, yes, but not in that way.”

"Hmm. I'm your excuse to order greasy takeout food.”

"And play a round of Queen's Blood or two," Rufus added, splaying his hands in mock-surrender once his plan was found out. 

"So it's whine and dine, because you always lose and whine about it afterwards,” Sephiroth concluded with a laugh. 

Rufus let his hands drop with a scowl. "I do no such thing."

Sephiroth looked down at Dark Star. "Dee, does your father whine when he loses?" 

Dark Star barked in response. 

Rufus rolled his eyes and began to walk away, but not before waving his middle finger over his shoulder.

Sephiroth laughed and watched Dark Star run after him. 

"Dogs are incredibly intelligent animals," Sephiroth called out to him. 

"19 o'clock," Rufus called back, shooting his friend a final smile over his shoulder. 

[local-flower-girl]

Hey there! Thank you for making an exception for my request, your writing really is amazing and I can't wait to see what you come up with! Also there is no need to apologise, tumblr can be a bit iffy with stuff and you would have had no idea!

My request was for a Rufus x Female!reader in a sort of angst/hurt&comfort scenario - if you're ok with writing that! I had seen a thread about his upbringing and how his father had been... far from great and very neglectful. I'll leave it up for you to direct the events as i always love the stuff you come up with, but anything to do with Rufus finally getting some tlc and comfort? (perhaps for some prompts: a bad dream or at a younger age (19?) he just ran away and turned up on the doorstep? Again, completely up to you what direction you choose to go!)

Thank you again for letting me send my request in, I hope your having a nice day/evening :)💚

In His Father’s Shadow

The soft caress of satin bedsheets hugged warmly at your skin. Shifting your body weight onto your side, your eyes fluttered open. It took you a moment to adjust and rouse yourself from your disturbed slumber. You extended your arm to the opposite side of the bed only to be met with emptiness. A slight warmth lingered upon the disheveled bedsheets; the heavy imprint of a body no longer beside you was all that remained. For the past few nights you had noticed Rufus’ absence. His inability to sleep seemed to be far more complex than just mere insomnia alone, or at least that is what you had noticed. Instinctively you knew… something was bothering him.

You lifted yourself up, perching upon the edge of the mattress. You glanced at the digital clock upon your bedside table. 3:00 am. There was a still, hollowed silence that annexed the room. A plain expanse of darkness that felt unsettlingly subdued. The only source of illumination was the intermittent flurry of car lights sweeping past the window. The bedroom door creaked, capturing your attention, and through the crack a pale light emerged. From the adjoining room you overheard movement and the clatter of glass, followed by a swift sliding of the apartment’s balcony door.

Rising to your feet, you unhooked a robe from your nightstand, shrouding the silky material around your shoulders. The uneven floorboards creaked as you steadily made your way towards the door. As you entered the open plan space of the apartment, Dark Star lay upon his back shifting intermittently within his sleep. Sprawled out across his dog bed, his large paws twitched as a continuation of deep growling snores left his snout. You tiptoed carefully around as not to wake him. Upon the marbled counter of the bar was a discernible half empty decanter of Whiskey, alongside a packet of menthol cigarettes and an engraved lighter. Something felt wrong. Rufus’ infrequent habit of smoking was usually a telltale sign of stress. In truth he despised the smell of smoke, since it reminded him of his father and the stifling reek of cigars.

You peered round the corner of the balcony door and found Rufus leaning upon the brick balustrade. He stood wearing the bare minimum of a thin white shirt and boxers; the loose, transparent fabric of his open shirt swishing gently in the breeze. He appeared oblivious to the cold as he stared out at the cityscape before him, lost in deep thought, and seemingly unaware to your presence. His hand firmly clenched at a squared glass of whiskey, the ice rattling as he raised it towards his lips. Within his opposite hand he held a cigarette. You watched as the continuous vertical streams of grey smoke dissipated into the air.

“Bad dream?” You asked gently, hugging at the frame of the open door.

He anchored his gaze upon the view in front of him, all the while his vacant demeanour remained.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He replied bluntly; a disgruntled pinch of his features as he raised the cigarette to his lips. His lungs reluctantly opened up, inhaling the toxic vapour. He held his breath briefly before releasing the thick, curdled plumes with a sense of relief.

You approached him, pulling your robe tighter around your waist as the cool outside air prickled at your exposed skin. Noticing your discomfort out of his peripheral vision, Rufus spoke up. “You should go back to bed — wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”

“I could say the same thing to you.” You retorted.

You went back indoors, picking up a blanket from a nearby couch. You carried it outside wrapping it around Rufus’ shoulders. He remained rigid, flicking the ash of his cigarette into the dark abyss below. You stood beside him, looking out into the distance. You gazed out at the dispersion of green smog upon the city skyline; tiny puffs of pollution rising steadily from rooftop chimneys, accumulating into the dense miasma. The glow of a nearby reactor lit up the streets in a green glittered, mako infused haze. Those small traces of visual beauty entangled amongst manmade destruction.

“What’s wrong Rufus?” You paused waiting for an answer. “You know you can talk to me…”

You watched as a shabby looking cat, balanced precariously upon the rusted metal supports of the building’s fire escape. Rufus remained silent, periodically sipping at his Whiskey.

“Is it about your father?” You asked innocently.

With that he turned to look at you, confirming your suspicions. Just a few days earlier Tseng, the leader of the Turks had made an unexpected house-call to the apartment. Whenever a retainer from Shinra would visit, Rufus would hide you away, not wanting you caught up in bureaucratic nonsense. At first you had thought him to be overprotective, coddling you like a child. However, over time you had realised, even witnessed the cold-hearted truth for anyone involved with Shinra. Governmental knowledge was dangerous and knowing too much was a surefire way of getting abducted, or worse, killed. Rufus wanted you to have nothing to do with that part of his life. That being the main reason you were both hiding out in a quaint little apartment nestled in sector eight.

“That does not concern you.” He answered abruptly, turning away.

His stern words pierced you deeply, like a blade to the chest. The deep furrow of his brow and the subtle tremble upon his hands was a clear sign of his inner turmoil. Even for someone as self assured as Rufus, it was only natural for a build up of troubles to coagulate into stress and uncertainty. It saddened you to think that he had been dealing with these problems alone.

“Yes it does!” You cried. “I can see you’re hurting Rufus… please don’t shut me out. I want to help!”

He frowned, placing his glass down upon the balustrade. Using his free hand he slicked back the loose, unruly strands of hair from off his face.

“He’s dead.” He spat, without an ounce of remorse or a slither of emotion. His paled complexion and stone cold glare hollowed his handsome features. “Bastard got what he deserved.”

You were unsure as how to respond in that moment, knowing his rocky past and the type of relationship he had with his father.

“I’m sorry…”

He scoffed, almost laughing to himself. “Don’t be!—” He lifted his drink once more, consuming the entirety of the amber liquid before bitterly slamming the glass back down. “—He was never a father to me… he never saw me as a son, just his coached successor!”

“I’m guessing that’s the reason why Tseng came to see you the other day?”

“He handed me his last will and testament… in the result of his death everything was to be handed down to me —” He stared down at the darkness below the balcony, contemplation weighing heavily upon his face. “— The company, every liability and mistake he ever made.” He shook his head in anger. “Old man must be laughing to himself.”

“You don’t have to deal with this alone. Let me…”

“I don’t want you involved!” He interrupted. “This is my burden to bear.” The red flicker of embers scattered as he stubbed the remains of his cigarette butt upon the brickwork.

You grasped at his hand, gently brushing your thumb over the length of his fingers. “Share that burden with me.”

His features laced with conflict and turmoil, softened ever so slightly as he turned to face you. He grabbed at the edges of the blanket, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, and pulling you into his warm, cloaked embrace. It was rare for Rufus to express warmth and affection, but within that moment he wanted only you to see his vulnerability. You rested your head against the firmness of his chest. The heavy thuds of his heartbeat quickening against your cheek.

“I can’t ask that of you.” His voice was firm yet you detected a slight waver to his composure.

“We both knew this day would come eventually. We couldn’t keep hiding forever… but this is your chance to change the Shinra name. Right all the wrongs and leave some good behind in this rotten world!”

“Redemption.” He murmured, closing his eyes in thought.

His grasp around you tightened for a moment longer before he released you. As you stepped back he placed his hands upon either side of your face. With his nimble fingers he tucked the stray wisps of your hair behind your ear before leaning down to capture your lips. The sweet notes of whiskey infused with bitter menthol lingering upon his breath.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, gazing back at you.

“Please, you don’t have to apologise. You’ve had a lot to think about.”

“It’s predominately the thought of something happening to you…” He admitted wholeheartedly.

“I’ll be fine.” You reassured, stroking your fingers through the short length of his blonde locks.

“I promise to protect you, no matter what the cost!”

That ambitious spark of confidence had returned as a positive glint reflected within his eyes. In the past, his stubbornness and pride would never have allowed him to admit weakness or defeat. Since knowing you he had mellowed considerably. Whereby he was once harsh and driven by ambition, over time you had shown him the error of his ways. Even though you loved him for who he was, he was slowly but surely becoming a better man, no longer living within his father’s hulking shadow.

[rand0msmil3z]

Beneath Silver Skies: Chapter 19 has been posted! I'll upload the final chapter tomorrow 🤍 Enjoy! 🐴 ➡️ Rating: E ➡️ Ao3 & FF Links Below:

(I'm still figuring out how Tumblr works and the best way to post these links, so bear with me 🙈 The struggle is real)

[manufacturedrainbows]

Shots from my FF7 animatic where Barret comforts Cloud after a great loss 💔

The audio reminded me of a scene from my fanfic "Through Suffering" so I just had to draw it for them! Barret’s a dad to Cloud now you cannot tell me otherwise 🤧

This is meant to take place after [redacted] happens in FF7 Remake chapter 12, but after seeing some Rebirth spoilers (against my will) I have a feeling this might fit somewhere in the new game as well. So feel free to interpret this as you wish!! ✨️

[rosakaebedo]

an imperfect tune pairing: tifa lockhart/cloud strife word count: 1k additional tags: pining, touch-starved cloud strife, like... extremely touch-starved, nibelheim, canon compliant, pre-relationship

Cloud does not flinch away from her.

Really, he flinches away from no one, too proud to show how touch catches him off guard, how even the graze of friendly fingertips causes his skin to heat up.

Tifa, then, is not an exception. When she takes his hand in her own, he does not flinch away. It hurts the most, perhaps, because he wants this. He wants this to be real, he wants to pull Tifa impossibly closer and know that it’s right, that it’s true. That it’s real.

read on ao3

[rolesplay]

・┆✦ALL THAT I HAVE — an aerith & sephiroth as siblings fanfic.

before the scientists escort him out of the room, the strange little girl had beckoned him to come close and whispered to his ear, “i shaw you twain! bwader wassho cool! i twy wash nekush time!” and for the first time in his life, he finds himself smiling.

he was not… normal. he knows that and has known that since the time his young brain started understanding the small world around him.

people around him wore white coats every day. scientists. they question and prod him, stick needles in him, train him. one time they brought him to his mother, and all she did was look at him with palpable fear.

and he understands, a bit, why she’s afraid of him. he understands why. he's cetra too - he could also hear the screams of the planet, that everything about him is wrong, wrong . but he doesn’t understand what it is that’s wrong with him, and so he learns to ignore it. he learns not to listen.

after all, when one hears the same noise, the same cries, over and over again, it will, inevitably, start to sound like static.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

when he meets his mother again, she’s had a new child. a child with one of the human scientists he’d known all his life.

he doesn’t know exactly what he expected. fear, too, perhaps, like their mother’s? watchful, like the scientists? but the little girl waddles over to him and hugs his leg instead.

“bwa-der!” brother. and she smiles up to him, and for the first time in his otherwise mind-numbing life, he feels something else. something else he has no word for.

they play, for a while, at the little girl’s insistence — his sister’s insistence.

he could see their mother watching from the farthest point in the room, looking at him terrified, and he can feel the stares from outside the glass windows lining the room.

he’s had a whole lot of time practicing ignoring them, but this time, it felt easier. it felt easier because there was a little girl who crawled and sat down on his lap and urged him to color her drawings with her.

he realizes immediately that some drawings were of him.

she babbles about how she’s very glad to see him, about what her favorite food was, and how much she loves colors. she talks and prattles on as they continue drawing and coloring and he’s content.

he doesn’t ask her why she’s drawn him though, but before the scientists escort him out of the room, the strange little girl had beckoned him to come close and whispered to his ear, “i shaw you twain! bwader wassho cool! i twy wash nekush time!”

and for the first time in his life, he finds himself smiling.

if there was a sudden improvement in his training records, the scientists never said anything about it. they did, however, keep track of the new abundance of drawings in his sister’s room.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

he has good days and bad days. bad days would consist of numerous things to fight and the word again from the scientists who watch him. bad days would mean they would strap him to a table and give him a thorough checkup, with needles and blood and sometimes, electricity. good days would consist of that too, minus the checkup. and because he has been good lately, the scientists have been happy. too happy, in fact, that he’s almost always in the training room and hasn’t seen his sister in so long.

that’s what he was thinking of until he enters his room and sees her sitting on his bed. 

“brother!” she greets him with a smile and he frowns.

seeing the look he gives her, she pouts instead. “but brother didn’t visit me for so long!” she emphasizes, perhaps to guilt him. definitely to guilt him.

he only sighs in reply, and she takes that as a sign of affirmation that she could stay in his room. she begins to talk on and on about different things — about her guardian and her guardian’s son, about how their mother was faring — as he tidies up his room to be preoccupied.

when he nears her, he sees ugly marks on her neck. bruises, he realizes. a hand. someone had tried to strangle her — to kill her.

he opens his mouth to ask, but she immediately reaches for his hand and tucks him in the bed. “sleepy time!” she proclaims, and snuggles up against him.

it doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep, and he follows her soon after.

when he dreams, he dreams of being there as his sister was strangled. he watches, horrified, as she struggled. he wants to scream.

he opens his eyes to the scientists taking his sister away from him. he panics, and while vehemently refusing, holds on to her tightly as he fights them off.

they don’t go very far.

he feels a prick on his leg and he’s falling, her voice nearby as she kicked and thrashed and screamed his name. the last thing he sees is his sister biting a scientist’s hand. he feels himself smile just before he loses consciousness.

when he wakes up he’s strapped back at a table for another checkup. someone was talking to him about the rules he has broken, but he can’t care less. instead, he looks up at the ceiling and begins to think.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

he makes sure he does well. he makes sure that the scientists find no fault with him, so he could ask them a favor. because he was such a good boy, they agreed immediately.

he asks them if he can talk to his mother.

there is visible confusion on people’s faces — perhaps they expected him to ask to see his sister instead — but they let him, nonetheless.

his mother still had not changed — she still looks at him with the same apprehension the first time he remembers meeting her.

“i’m leaving soon,” he blurts out, even though that was not the reason he went to see her. maybe there’s a deep-seated corner in his mind that wants his mother to look at him as her child too.

her reply was soft, so soft, that he almost doesn’t hear what she says. “i know.”

he sighs. he shouldn’t have expected anything from a woman who could barely look him in the eye.

“i’m not here for that though,” he informs her resolutely. “i’m here because of her. i want - no. she needs to be out of here. she has to.”

there’s a look of surprise on her face, at first. and then finally - she looks him in the eye. he watches as her expression shifts. something softer. unafraid. she nods.

together, they plan. to both of them, there is only one person more important than their lives. they’d sacrifice anything to keep her safe.

“you,” she calls him before he leaves the room.

he turns to look at her, maybe too hopeful than he would ever want to admit.

“you grew up well.” she reaches out as if to touch him, but stops herself. “i’m sorry.”

that wasn’t what he wanted to hear from her, but he’ll take what he can get. he gives her a nod.

that night, he dreams of them — the three of them, together — as a family. they live in a quaint little house and there’s a flower garden in their backyard. when he wakes up, he holds on to the feeling. that what-could-have-been.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

he helps with their escape. he leads her through corridors and rooms, places he’s memorized the layout of.

the alarm sirens blare. they run.

when they reach their mother she’s at a door with the id she’d swiped from the scientists. she’s trembling.

he hands his sister to their mother, who, in turn, picks the little girl up.

“they found out,” their mother says, eyebrows knit together, eyes darting around nervously.

he looks up at the red light signaling the high alert the building was under. “i’ll stay. buy you some time.” 

the older woman looks at him with wide eyes. “what? but you said -”

“go.” he insists and gives her a look. since when did she care?

there was a brief second of hesitation, and then she’s grabbing him by his arm, her nails digging into his skin. “i tried. i want you to know that i tried.”

he tries to shake her off. he really doesn’t want to hear -

“listen to me,” she pleads, “just this time, listen to me. you are my son.” her eyes bore into him and he can’t help but nod at the weight she puts in the words. “whatever happens, you are my son.”

when she lets go he can feel his skin sting.

“brother?” and then his sister’s voice. she sounds scared. “you’ll come after us, right?”

he smiles at her.

she frowns and demands, “promise me you’ll come after us.”

he turns away from her before he replies. “i promise.”

he doesn’t watch them leave. he doesn’t trust himself enough to do that.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

it’s not long after that when he’s deployed to fight in a war. a war that isn’t his own. in it he finds companions, friends, comrades. they fight, and they win.

the war hero. there are praise and adoration everywhere he goes. not the one he wants, nor the one he needs.

at night he dreams of the people he had killed. the voices shriek and accuse him. a coward, they yell, murderer! and yet through it all, there’s always an invisible hand guiding him out of the darkness, out of the whirlwind of noises.

my son, he hears his mother say, always.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

he's both alien and ancient. and that must be why his mother can’t look him in the eyes. he shouldn’t exist at all. jenova had been the cause of death of the cetra.

a miracle, a scientist had called him, once.

perhaps in his mother’s eyes, all she’d seen was a monster.

he’s at a loss on what to do. and so he walks. he walks, with no destination set in mind. he walks, and in his despair, finally realizes why the voices of the planet keep saying he’s all wrong.

he tries to listen to them again. and it’s hard because it’s a cacophony of voices telling him he’s a mistake, but they were right all along. he was a mistake. but amidst all the shrieks of discontentment, perhaps, even anger, he hears something else.

a small voice. a familiar one. come find me, it says, i’m here.

he holds on to that voice. he follows it.

when he finally gathers his wits about him, he finds himself standing in front of an old, decrepit church. the door opens, and there’s a girl with bright green eyes, that he could recognize anywhere.

he feels the weariness to his bones, and he falls.

she rushes forward in a futile attempt to catch him, resulting instead with the both of them kneeling down in the dirt. she did manage, however, to hold him close.

“brother,” she says the word in between a sob and a laugh. “you found me. you found me.”

he smiles.

[c-o-t-o]

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