#final fantasy vii fan fiction

[bardic-tales]

Title: First Kiss

Pairing: Bianca Moore (f!oc) x Sephiroth

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1537

Fandom: Final Fantasy 7

Setting: Two days before the Nibelheim Incident

Warnings: Blood (mention of slight injury from claws), breathlessness, Emotional manipulation (through the intense bond and unspoken promise), Imbalance of power (emotional and physical), Intimacy, Kissing, Overstimulation (heightened sensory experience), Sexual tension

Summary: Bianca and Sephiroth share a passionate, intense kiss, connecting emotionally and physically in a moment of vulnerability.

Squared Filled: Jan: First Kiss

Created for: @yearoftheotpevent

The air in the underground library of Shinra Manor was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust, mingling with the faintest trace of something sweet and comforting—pumpkin spice. The warmth of the room contrasted with the chilling void that enveloped the mansion’s deeper underground levels. Bianca stood there, taking in the labyrinth of bookshelves and the haphazard piles of files scattered across the cold stone floor.

How many books had she dodged that he threw in search of his origins? She had lost track on the fourth day, but she could sense that something was off about him. Bianca didn’t know how to even approach it or why the string tied around their wrists was blackening. She was only wearing a cream-colored oversized sweater, the fabric soft against her skin, and dark slacks that hugged her legs with each step. The heels of her sandals clicked across the stone floor as she walked towards him. Despite the overwhelming darkness that pervaded the air, there was a quiet softness to her presence, a vulnerability that softened the harsh edges of the dimly lit study. Sephiroth stood across from her with his back towards her and running his fingers over the dusty spines of the books, searching for the research that would answer all of his questions. His tall frame radiated a tension that seemed to stretch out and consume the surrounding space. The weight of his turmoil — the relentless pursuit of truths that seemed to slip further from his grasp — was palpable. His normally composed demeanor was cracking, the edges of his sanity teetering. In that moment, as she had the previous days, Bianca could sense the rawness beneath it all.

She stepped closer to him. Her breath was shallow, yet her heart pounded in her chest. A pull, something magnetic and uncontrollable, drove her forward. As her eyes met his, she found something in the depths of his gaze that mirrored her own inner chaos: a longing, a pain, a quiet desperation. She needed him, aching for the sense of belonging that this man could only give her. He had become the only stability in the mooring of her soul: the wound left behind by her first husband’s death days before.

Without a word, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his, the touch light but electric. The contact sent a surge of heat through her body, and she could feel the rapid pulse of her own blood mingling with the undercurrent of energy between them. There was no plan or expectation, just a need that was almost primal.

Primal. That scared her. Bianca had never just followed her primal instincts, as she knew well that it would unleash the beast dwelling deep within her: the gift of her father, the archdemon who went by the name of Asmodeus. She feared losing control of her inner demon, but Sephiroth and his sad — and a bit crazed eyes — called to her.

Sephiroth turned towards her. His hand still rested upon the book he was about to pull from the shelf. His gaze softened slightly; a flicker of something unspoken passed between them. His mouth parted, barely a breath between his top and heavy bottom lips. In that fleeting moment, Bianca saw the raw, unguarded Sephiroth—the man not defined by his legacy or his dark search, but the person beneath it all. She only saw him in that moment, and he only saw the woman beneath all the pain and torment: souls tied beyond something greater than their heritage and circumstance.

Then, without warning, he closed the space between them and bent down. His lips crashing into hers in a kiss that was as fierce as it was tender. It was as if the world around them ceased to exist, leaving only the taste of their shared breath and the warmth of their bodies. Bianca gasped into the kiss, her senses igniting in an instant.

The kiss was intoxicating, rich with the taste of the breakfast they shared earlier and the faint scent of lily of the valley on his skin. His lips were firm, yet his touch was careful, as though testing the waters of something he had long kept at bay. As their mouths moved together, Bianca felt a sharp pull deep within her, a gravity that seemed to tether her to him in a way that transcended logic. She kissed him back. Her own lips were soft but insistent.

The thread around their wrists now glowed a vivid crimson, the heart-shape loops pulsating from the desire that pooled between them.

Bianca tasted the salt of his flesh. Her body shivered against him, the warmth of him pressing against her own as her hands slid up to grasp his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his SOLDIER suspenders crossing the broad expanse of his chest, the tension coiling in every movement. Her fingers curled around the middle of the straps, as her claws nicked his skin just slightly, but not enough for Sephiroth to bleed.

Then her right hand slid over to his arm. She felt his forearm flex beneath the ebony coat covering his entire body. Her hand gripped the silvery strands, brushing against his arm, trapping his hair between their skin.

A low hum reverberated through her, the sensation of his touch flooding her senses. The scent of him—a mix of sharp floral and earthy warmth — invaded her senses, making her head spin.

Need him. Need him. Need him. The thoughts kept repeating as he tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Her heart raced, the rhythm erratic as she sank deeper into the kiss. The heat between them growing.

His powerful hands found her waist, pulling her closer, as though trying to erase the distance between them. How his hands now trembled against her. She could feel the heat of his body seep into hers, a quiet fire that matched the burning need coursing through her veins. The kiss was no longer just an act. It was a communion, a shared moment of understanding that transcended the chaos of their individual experiences.

The sound of their breathing mingled, becoming erratic as the kiss deepened. Bianca’s mind raced, her body responding to the undeniable pull of Sephiroth’s presence. A flash fire of wanton attraction spread within her body, engulfing her senses just below her flesh. His fingers trailed up the soft fabric of her sweater before his hand dove beneath her clothing, brushing against the warmth of her skin beneath. The touch was almost too much, sending waves of sensation rushing through her, as it made her feel both lightheaded and grounded all at once. It was like drowning and soaring at the same time.

Her lips parted against his, and in that moment of minute separation, she could feel his breath on her mouth. Hot and unsteady. Full of want and need. For a fleeting instant, the world outside the confines of the library ceased to exist: Zack wasn’t tossing and turning in his bed as he tried to make sense of Sephiroth and why the other 1st Class SOLDIER locked himself in the basement or a creature of unknown origins named J.E.N.O.V.A wasn’t in the containment tank in the reactor in the mountains. It was just the two of them. An unlikely pair bound by something darker and deeper than either of them could fully comprehend — beyond Jenova, beyond Asmodeus, beyond Shinra. This union was fated to happen by a prophecy she had been running from her entire life.

His hand cupped her cheek. His thumb grazed her skin with such tenderness that it contrasted with the intensity of their kiss. Bianca leaned into the touch, as if she were a thirsty man deprive of water in the desert and his touch was her only oasis, and felt the pulse of his hand against her skin and the warmth of his presence anchoring her in a way nothing else ever had. No one had ever made her feel like this before.

The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads touched, as he still bent down to her level. Their breaths mingled. Both of them were silent. A thousand unspoken words hung between them, as they stared up into each other’s eyes: gold peering into cyan hues. Bianca’s lips tingled from the kiss. Overwhelmed, she could still taste him, feel the warmth of his skin against hers, and his hand, a feather-light touch. The pumpkin spice of her scent clung to the air, providing a soft contrast to the sharpness of Sephiroth’s presence.

In that moment, there was no past, no future—only the now, the bond they shared, and the unspoken promise of something more. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the unvoiced understanding that this moment, raw and unguarded, was a turning point in their tangled fates.

Bianca stood there. Her heart still pounded. Her body hummed with the aftershocks of the kiss. She didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in a long while, she felt connected—truly connected—to someone who understood the weight of the circumstances that shaped her life.

tagging some fellow mutuals: @themaradwrites @whatwedointhecraft @serenofroses @megandaisy9

@watermeezer

@seastarblue @prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen

@chickensarentcheap

[akatsuki-shin]

"YOUR FIRSTS, AND MINE" — #TsengRuWeek2024 Day 1: Firsts

1,5k words | 🔞

Before Crisis TsengRu

Being placed under house arrest doesn't stop Vice President Shinra from pursuing his other "target"

Featuring an illustration by @brilcrist

(link in the reply below)

[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 

[the-bar-sinister]

💔 Is there somewhere that you can't touch S/I under any circumstances? Did they tell you why? -- and -- 🍭 where does S/I like to kiss you? Do you like it when they kiss you there? -- for the F/O ask game! :D

Cloud lays on top of Reno, rubbing his head against the crook of his neck. Reno strokes his soft, fluffy hair, and Cloud kisses his jaw, over his face, always careful to avoid the raised, puckered scars on each cheek.

"Please don't," Reno had said once. He'd never said where the scars had come from, and part of Cloud was disappointed not to be able to kiss the ache of whatever old wounds they were away. 

But like always, he kisses Reno's lips instead. 

Reno grabs his wrists, and flips their positions, grinning down at him and kissing back hard.

-

AO3 link

prompt list link

Thank you so much for the ask! <3

[miabria]

“Elena wished she could enjoy the winters as she once had, wished the city air didn’t always make her think as deeply as it did.”

———

This is a piece I made based off of a short story I recently wrote about Elena. You can find it on AO3 here!

[alestra18]

Hey, I'm trying to find a Zack Fair and Cloud Strife fanfiction. I do believe I originally read it on AO3.

The premise from what I remembered is the planet brings back Zack for Cloud. It was a soul mate story, where the first words they say appear on you.

When Zack is brought back, Cloud is worried he has a new soul mate, not knowing Zack is back. Their new words keep changing though, as them meeting again shifts.

I also remember that it switched from current events happening to flash backs of when the two first met and started being friends, etc.

[afi-writes]

Winning the Battle

Final Fantasy VII

Pairing: Reno x Tifa

Rating: Mature

Summary: The Turks spend the evening at 7th Heaven, and once again, Reno can't take his eyes off Tifa's perfect body. This time he decides to fulfill a long-time dream and finally get what he wants.

CW: Reno's shameless male gaze

Translated from the original Finnish version.

Written for @marikamalia.

"Have Lockhart's bazookas got even bigger?" Reno's question was never answered, but instead, he received a glare from Elena and a remark about his attitude.

"Huh?” Reno drained his whisky. “I love women in every possible way."

Lockhart worked behind the bar as usual. Sometimes it seemed as if she knew the next customer's order before they had even voiced it out. The pints were filled, the bottoms of the whisky glasses rattled with ice before the heavenly drink was poured, and the perfect knockers bounced Lockhart's every move. It would have been great to cum between them.

Reno leaned back in his chair and raised the pint to his lips. Nowhere was the beer as good as in the 7th Heaven. Where did Lockhart order it? Had she secretly started her own brewery? The thought brought a grin to Reno’s lips and the beer guttered toward his lungs, making him wince.

"Damn it, Reno," Elena snorted. "Can you be any more disgusting?"

Tseng was as expressionless as ever but set his pint on the table and glanced at the coughing Reno.

One of Rude's eyebrows rose slightly. The gesture was likely to be noticed by no one but Reno, who over the years had trained himself to notice his partner's every micro-expression.

Reno had just finished coughing when Lockhart sailed over to the table to collect the empty glasses. burgundy eyes gave Reno a look that made his stomach churn. Jest aside, the woman made his heart race with her mere presence, but she was as unattainable as the moon. Although there was a persistent rumor in Edge - okay, Rude had said it once - that Strife and Lockhart were no longer together, Lockhart had reportedly not warmed to anyone's attempts toward her. Reno had seen how deftly she'd shooed the candidates out of her sight and, if necessary, thrown them out of the bar with her bare hands.

On the other hand, that wouldn't have been a bad option either, at least it would have given him a chance to get up close and personal for a while. A stiff fist would probably leave a sore jaw, but that was a price Reno was willing to pay.

"Are you okay?" A soft, friendly voice. Customer service clearly.  Reno knew the Avalanche still didn't look kindly on the Turks, yet Lockhart leaned in. "It looked like you were choking on that ale."

“…m fine…” Reno wasn't usually at a loss for words in any situation, but now such a moment had come close.

"Good. It would have been unfortunate if anything had happened.” Lockhart smiled in a way that made Reno’s heart rate take a rapid turn. Fuck.

“Bring me one more.” He raised his pint.

Lockhart nodded and continued to collect glasses from the other tables. A short black miniskirt barely covered her backside. There was an area between its skirt and the over-the-knee socks that made you want to grab her thighs. With her hips still swaying with each step, Reno was finally forced to look away for a moment. Gotta-Get-Laid-beer and Lockhart were a hazardous combination.

The evening went as usual. When the last call came Reno wasn't sure how many beers he'd downed. Tseng and Elena had sneaked away earlier, and even Rude hadn't stayed in the bar through all night, announcing that he was going home. He had even offered a ride, but Reno had refused. This would be his night. Tonight, he would find himself either plowing Lockhart or on the street in front of the bar, depending on her compliance.

The last customers roamed out just before the bar closed. Reno emptied his pint and slammed it on the table in a way that made Lockhart flinch. Had she even noticed that Reno was still sitting in the corner?

"We're closing for the night." Lockhart grabbed the handle of the pint.

Reno placed her hand on Lockhart's wrist and made the woman stop. Burgundy eyes met his gaze, and her lips parted in a silent question. Damn, it would be great to stick a tongue between them and maybe something else too.

Lockhart pulled her hand from Reno's grip and hurried to take the pint to wash. Reno hauled himself out of his chair and staggered towards the table. Damn, the level of drunkenness was higher than he'd thought. He should have taken that offer of the ride.

Reno wobbled towards the door. Shit, he hadn't spent the whole evening in this taproom for nothing. As he turned around, he was greeted with arms crossed under the bouncy twins and a stare that could pierce his brain.

"That's a waste." The words slipped out before Reno could stop himself.

“What’s a waste?” Genuine confusion rounded Lockhart’s lips. Or was it genuine? Perhaps it was a deliberate attempt to tempt Reno because surely Lockhart could read any man like an open online forum.

Reno’s mind felt sticky. There must be a way to save the situation. Yes, even Reno knew you couldn’t just say whatever to a woman’s face. A certain amount of subtleness combined with a slight lewdness was needed. The trick was not to cross an indefinite line.

Lockhart lifted a brow. “Hiding your bazookas behind your arms perhaps?”

Shit. How good was her hearing?

"Should I call you a taxi?" Lockhart continued before Reno could respond.

"I do it on my own.”

"Good. You know your way out, don't you?" Lockhart turned her back, walked behind the counter, and dampened a tablecloth, which she began to use to wipe the surfaces. The said chichis jiggled with the force of the motion, causing an unbearable ache in Reno's crotch.

"The door is behind your back." Lockhart didn’t bother to look at Reno.

"How about offering me a place to stay?"

Now Lockhart straightened up. Reno looked her straight in the eye and let his signature smirk curl on his face – at least he thought he was doing that. The one that made the nightclub chicks go wild. The I-know-I-look-fuckable-smirk.

Lockhart strolled across the room. Her journey seemed to take forever, and Reno didn't know whether he'd rather be looking at the tight top covering her hooters or her deliciously well-formed hips.

Reno made sure his grin widened as Lockhart stopped in front of him. Burgundy was unwavering. It dug in and left a lasting imprint on something people usually called the soul. Not that Reno was sure if he had such a thing. But he had, Lockhart was free to carve anything on it.

Lockhart raised both hands, and Reno's gaze instinctively dropped a couple of notches as huge hooters were finally within touching distance. However, he didn't have time even to hook his fingers as cool water trickled into his hair and down his face.

Lockhart dropped the tablecloth on the floor, grabbed Reno's coat collar with a grip quicker than his gaze, and dragged him toward the door. She managed to push it open, and Reno plunged into Edge's night. The street stuffed his cheek, leaving a mark he could wear with pride.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs until the crimson combat boots stopped at Reno's face. Another tug on the collar of his jacket forced Reno back to his feet. Unable to focus his gaze, Reno could only stare at two pairs of burgundy orbs that drilled through him, until the view became clearer, and eyes melted into just one pair.

"There are often taxis leaving from that street corner." Lockhart released her grasp on Reno's jacket. She took hold of his chin, pushed closer, and suddenly soft lips brushed Reno's cheek. The kiss felt all the way to his groin, though it was too quick.

"Damn it, Lockhart..."

"Ask me again when you're sober and have offered me at least three coffees somewhere other than my own bar." Lockhart turned, marched up the stairs, and slammed the door behind her.

The smirk returned to Reno's lips.

If you like my work, consider reblogging it. That helps more people to find it. Don't feel obliged though. Only do it if you want to, but I do appreciate the gesture.

[yuriko-mukami]

I'm translating my novel-length Final Fantasy VII fic into English... and the more I read my own text, the clearer it becomes that the portrayal of Rude of the Turks in this story reminds me scarily much of Ruki... 😱

The thing is... I hadn't seen the anime or played a single DL game when I was writing this fic. And since FFVII doesn't exactly reveal what kind of person and lover Rude is in his private life, I have created this side of him mostly from my own headcanons.

Basically, I was writing about Ruki before I knew that he even existed. So, is it even a wonder I fell for him so hard when I finally met him? 🤔

[snowboundranger]

Starting a new FF7 fic, where they get their golden ending, but gold is a heavy thing to carry on top of the guilt and self-doubt you already have.

[burnyourpagoda]

Ooops. Oh well - party hard.

I'm guessing I'm not the only one.....

[bardic-tales]

Title: Youth

Pairing: Bianca Moore (f!OC) / Sephiroth

Other Character: Professor Hojo

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1591

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII, Ever Crisis

Setting: AU: Redemption

Warnings: Abuse, body horror, combat violence, cold & hypothermia, death, emotional distress, experimentation, fear, isolation, manipulation, paranoia, psychological trauma

Summary: In a stimulated combat scenario, Bianca and Sephiroth confront the powerful summons Bahamut and Shiva to prove their abilities to Professor Hojo.

Squared Filled: Youth

Created for: #SephirothWeek which is hosted by @week-of-silver-winds

Note: This is from my redemption!AU where the timeline becomes very canon divergent. Also, for anyone who is following along with my passion project, Sephiroth and Bia meet very young in this AU.

In it, Hojo is the primary antagonist. This fan fic takes place during Ever Crisis before the First Episode of the First SOLDIER. So, Seph is 15; Bia, 13.

Excerpt:

In a cry of agony, tendrils burst forth from her back, surged towards Shiva, and pierced the summon’s defenses.

Still, the battle raged on. The sound of steel and the crackling of frost echoed across the virtual world. Shiva moved weakly as they continued to carve into her. Sephiroth knew they couldn’t waste anymore time. Drawn-out displays wouldn’t satisfy Professor Hojo.

Thump. Thump. Thump. His heart beat. The young man held onto the military saber and slowly lifted the blade parallel to his head and shoulder as he eased into his combat stance. He looked at his companion: the young girl that had been a constant in his life for five years now, the only one he was allowed to converse with.

Their environment flickered and glitch before them. Solid powder-blue boxes swayed, pivoted on their axis, rose, and descended. From the west, a warm breeze blew across the stimulation, waving his shoulder-length silver hair and her waist-length midnight locks behind them like banners welcoming warriors home from a battle. He looked at the force before them.

The battle was yet to be won. He didn’t scowl or have much emotion, other than looking at their foes before them: Bahamut and Shiva.

“On my mark,” he said.

Bianca nodded, as she curled her right hand into a fist and slammed it against the silver habaki and ebony tsuka, gliding her hand to the left and pulling Noctemaris from the void between dimensions. The black and dark gray blade emerged behind her fist, sparkling and glimmering with star dust. “Which one first?”

They had to preform above expectations or Hojo would take Bianca from him and return her shaken, bruised, and broken. Even if that meant endured their training, he had to protect Bianca.

“Shiva,” he replied. “She’s the most threat to us, as you’re delicate around ice and cold.”

Without another word, Sephiroth surged forward. His eyes fixated on the ice goddess who loomed ahead. The air around Bianca and Sephiroth was already thick with frost. The chill clawed at his skin, but he pressed on. His determination was unyielding.

If I hesitate, he thought, it would mean failure. Failure would mean Hojo’s interference with Bianca once again. This was a thought he would not tolerate: her experimentation.

Nameless flashed as he closed the distance to the scantily clad summon. His movements were precise and deadly. The ground beneath him cracked with each step forward, as the frozen ground protested his advance.

Without breaking stride, he launched himself into a serious of rapid slashes. The rapid successions of strikes aimed at childing away at Shiva’s defenses. Her green hair flowed around her as she tried to defend against Sephiroth’s graceful brutality.

Bianca darted to the side, using his assault as cover. She moved with a grace that belied the dark power coursing through her veins. Her wings unfurled and cast a shadow over the battlefield. With a single, powerful beat of her wings, she lifted herself into the air. The surrounding shadows deepened and obscured her from Shiva’s gaze.

Sephiroth knew they would have to finish this quickly. The cold gnawed at Bianca, lining her flesh with ice crystals. If they didn’t end it quick, there was a real possibility for her to develop hypothermia.

He glanced up for a moment as darkness oscillated around her, concealing herself from both Sephiroth and Shiva’s view. As he continued his relentless assault, Bianca descended from above and plunged downward with Noctemaris.

In a cry of agony, tendrils burst forth from her back, surged towards Shiva, and pierced the summon’s defenses.

Still, the battle raged on. The sound of steel and the crackling of frost echoed across the virtual world. Shiva moved weakly as they continued to carve into her. Sephiroth knew they couldn’t waste anymore time. Drawn-out displays wouldn’t satisfy Professor Hojo.

“Now, Bianca,” he called above the din, signaling her to finish the summon while he intercepted Bahamut. Sephiroth spun on his heel. The dragon’s roar shook the stimulator.

With a surge of shadows, Bianca’s blade plunged into Shiva’s chest. The dark energies expanded from the blade, as the star-drench blade glowed now: a crimson nebula surrounded Noctemaris, the arms spinning wildly around the length of the blade.

Shiva shattered in a explosion of crystalline shards and darkness.

“Move!” he commanded Bianca. With a swift leap, he launched himself toward the dragon, ready to engage their next challenge before Hojo ended the stimulation.

Sephiroth now leapt at Bahamut. His saber poised to strike as the air seemed to crackle with the dragon’s raw, untamed power. The beast’s eyes glowed red as it inhaled the surrounding air. The very air sizzled around Sephiroth as the dragon prepared to unleash a burst of Mega Flare.

There was no time to hesitate. He pushed forward, leaping up into the air again and bringing down Nameless with a downward strike. The ground beneath him split into a pentacle. The impact sent a tremor through Sephiroth’s arms, but he didn’t relent.

Bahamut recoiled while Sephiroth concentrated. A large fireball hovered over his hand, which he immediately threw at the dragon’s large silvery leathery wings.

As Bianca still soared through the air, her tendrils quivered and writhed around her. The darkness emanating from her wings intensified, casting blackness over the entire stimulation. With a fierce cry, she dove before the dragon’s belly and jabbed at it with the tendrils. They lashed at Bahamut’s underside.

The dragon roared in fury. It swatted at Bianca with its colossal claws, but she weaved and bobbed out of reach, siphoning blood from the creature through her appendages. As she danced through the air, Sephiroth struck from the ground. A rapid sequence of eight quick thrusts and slashes severed the joints of Bahamut’s massive limbs. His blade moved like a flash of silver.

With a surge of dark energy, Bianca unleashed her fury. Her movements became a blur as Noctemaris carved through the air and Bahamut. Each stroke left behind a trail of shadow, sapping the dragon’s will and strength.

Bahamut’s once-mighty form wavered. With a last thrust from Nameless, the giant beast collapsed. Its form and energy dissipating into the air.

Silence fell across the stimulation as Sephiroth reached into his coat and retrieved his flip phone. With the press of the downward arrow, he scrolled through the options and hit ‘Mission Successful’. The screen flashed in confirmation. Before the stimulation collapsed around them, he took one look at Bianca and ensured she was unharmed. Tiny cuts and bruises lined her arms, but nothing severe.

After they removed their V.R. headsets, they were met by the calculating gaze of the Head of Research and Development.

“You both need to be faster. Train harder or you’ll never unlock your full potentials.” The mad scientist, a Shinra board member by the name of Professor Hojo, held the clipboard in his hand. He was shorter than the teenage boy, but he still held power over Sephiroth.

In his other hand, Hojo held a pen and scribbled down notes on the sheet of paper clipped to the board. “Especially you, Bianca. You have barely tapped into your potential abilities."

Sephiroth’s brilliant cyan gaze flicked towards Bianca. Her indigo eyes widened, blowing out her feline-like pupils. The string looping around their separate wrists pulsated an angry red, allowing the anxiety and fear running through the strings to settle deep within his own stomach. It amplified the fear, sending it back to the small girl.

“This separation will make both of you stronger,” Hojo said, as he gripped onto Bianca’s right bicep. His spindly fingers bit into her soft knitted turtleneck.

Although he didn’t show it, his heart galloped as he watched Hojo lead Bianca away. He had to shelter her from Hojo, and he would. Thump. Thump. Thump.

tagging some fellow mutuals: @themaradwrites @littleshopofchaos @serenofroses @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@nightingaleflow @seastarblue @prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen

@chickensarentcheap

[akatsuki-shin]

"RELIANCE" — #TsengRuWeek2024 Day 7: Free Day (Geostigma)

1,6k words | PG

Takes place at the beginning of Advent Children, before Tseng departs for his mission with Elena to the Northern Crater

(link in the reply below)

[vincentvalentineweek]

We are officially 100 days away from Week One of Vincent Week 2025! Starting in 2025 VVW will be a bi-annual celebration of all things Vincent Valentine to take place during February and October. Week One will take place on February 7-14, so if you missed out on the October fun you can get in on February's celebration!

[the-bar-sinister]

Surprise Visitor (806 words) by thesavagesabretooth, VickytheSnake Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Cissnei/Reno (Compilation of FFVII), The Turks/The Turks (Compilation of FFVII) Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Drunken Flirting, Turks (Compilation of FFVII), Polyamorous Turks (Compilation of FFVII), Turkfic, Background Poly, Before Crisis Era (Compilation of FFVII)

-

When Cissnei came home, a quarter before one in the morning, and switched on the light in her dark living room she had not been expecting to see someone else there. A lump, flopped across her couch cushions and buried in her half askew throw blankets.

The pair of black goggles resting on the coffee table and the askew red hair sticking up from under the blankets painted an immediate picture, if a confusing one.

She hung up her jacket on the peg by the door with a raise of her eyebrow and a quietly amused sigh. Reno, for some reason, had broken into her house.

To collapse on her couch, it seemed.

She walked over and placed her hand on the pile of blankets and shook the sleeping form lightly.

"Reno. Tell me you at least stole a pillow." 

"Muh?" He uncurled from the way he was sleeping, snuggled up on his arms and his balled up suit jacket. He had not stolen a pillow. As soon as his eyes were half open, a big smile pulled across his face and he opened his arms toward her. "Heeey, Cissnei! Whatcha doing here?"

The smell of booze absolutely wafted off of him.

It assailed her nose, causing it to wrinkle slightly before she got used to it. It wasn't as if she wasn't a drinker. She drank plenty, but she'd never been as much of one as Reno.

She bent down, and wrapped her arms around him in a half hug, half getting him to sit the hell up before he gave himself a migraine sitting like that.

Pulling back to look into his eyes, she continued with wry humor. "Oh, nothing much. Just decided to stop in. See the sights. In my own house." 

Reno unfolded, half sitting up but tugging her basically into his lap in the meantime. He squinted around the apartment. "Your house? Oh! Oh right! My bad. I needed a place to crash and your apartment's the closest to the elevator."

"I'm touched," Cissnei drawled as she slid into his lap. "And you're drunk as hell."

It wasn't hard to imagine Reno having gotten hammered and crashing in the first place with a decently available couch; regardless of if he knew the people inside the apartment or not.

"Just your standard overindulgence or did you piss someone off out there before you were through?" 

Reno stared vacantly at her like he was working through the question with great difficulty.

"They're fixing the ceiling in my apartment," he answered, which at first seemed like mostly nonsense. "The guy on the floor above me put some weird chemicals down the drain. I was gonna beat his ass, but we ended up getting drunk instead."

He leaned his head– really more like flopped it– on her shoulder.

Well, it was an explanation. Which was more than you usually got when he was this sauced. She tutted her tongue, running her fingers through the long strands of his hair.

"Glad I don't have to write an incident report then." She glanced sidelong, shifting against his lap to loop an arm around him. "So here you are. Snuck into my apartment, and sleeping on my couch." 

"I kinda expected you to be home," he admitted plaintively, nuzzling into her. "Is it morning? Do I need to shower for work?"

It was very much not morning. Though he could definitely use a shower.

"It's the middle of the night, Reno. I just got off shift. Tseng had me up and down Loveless Avenue looking for some double agent." Cissnei poked the tip of his nose. "But you smell like booze, weird sink chemicals, and unwashed Reno. So maybe you could use a shower." 

He gave her a hopeful look, his bright eyes half lidded and his smile broad. "Wanna take a shower with me? And maybe I could steal one of your pillows."

Cissnei's normally composed face took on a hint of pink flush. 

"...I was thinking you looked pretty uncomfy on the couch. You'll just make my job harder tomorrow if you show up to work with a hangover and a stiff neck so—" She leaned in with a smirk. "Why not. Since you were polite enough to drop by and all." 

"You're the best!" Reno's grin widened even further and he grabbed her wrists, pulling her into a sudden kiss that tasted like scotch and cigarettes.

The familiar taste—a particularly 'Turks' taste, in her experience—met her tongue as she let herself melt into the kiss. Like a lot of things Reno did, it was chaotic, spontaneous. Charming, in its own madcap way.

As her lips tugged teasingly at his, the thought came to mind. A butchered quote from some daytime drama or another. Of all the apartments in Midgar, you break into mine. 

[esmerelda-and-alouette]

Hey there! It’s been such a long time since we’ve talked, hasn’t it? Well, I hope you’re doing very well. We’ll have to catch up sometime!

I figured I should update you on how life has been. Lots of things have been going on behind the scenes, both in my personal and professional life. But, I’m pleased to say that a few fics are on their way to be done! I can’t say much at the moment, but I think you’ll find them fun.

I am also opening up my “asks” box to anyone who would like to chat, or to anyone who might have a question about the fics.

I also have a new hyperfixation! Final Fantasy 16 has eaten my heart, lol. So, I’ll probably be posting headcanons and pieces of writing about that too. Prepare yourself.

That’s all for now! I hope you have a lovely day, my friend. I’ll (hopefully) be posting more often about new works!

‘Til we meet again,

Esme <3

[afi-mukami]

Temptation - Chapter 01

Final Fantasy VII

RudTi (+ a couple of other ships that will be revealed along the story)

Eventually shameless smut

Tifa and Cloud live their daily lives in Edge, which seems to be finally safe now that Vincent has defeated Omega and Deedground. However, the couple’s life is not quite what Tifa has hoped for. When she cannot find happiness in one direction, the offer may come unexpectedly from another.

The Shadow of the Turks

Omega's carcass hovered in the sky, recalling the events of recent weeks. Tifa could not take her eyes off it. Vincent had destroyed Omega, ending the life of an entity imagined to be immortal. Now it revolved around the planet, perhaps forever, like a vaguely shaped moon. Alone. Alone. In emptiness.

The sigh erupted from Tifa's lips. She snatched her dark brown, long hair behind her ears and grabbed the shopping bag again. Denzel was still in school and Cloud somewhere. Every work gig seemed to be longer than the last one. Was it quite necessary to take deliveries that were going all the way to Junon? Yes, Edge's internal freight transport would have thought enough to be done. The truth seemed to be that Cloud did not want to spend time at home with Tifa and Denzel. Tifa did not know why Cloud was fleeing. Didn’t Sephiroth’s shadow still agree to let go of him?

“That looks heavy. Can I help carry it?”

The question in a warm tone swam into Tifa's ears just as she was about to straighten up. She looked up and saw a bald man whose eyes could not be separated from behind the dark glasses. The dark suit sat perfectly on the man, but he did not fit the shopping street. Other people gave them long glances and circled the man a couple of feet away. At least the Turks’ shadow refused to detach its grip from the former Midgars.

“Thank you,” Tifa said.

So much had happened that someone had to let go and look ahead. Tifa could start this and only then demand the same from others.

“Rude,” the man finally introduced himself. His fingers touched Tifa's fingers as he grabbed the handles of the shopping bag. They were warm and rough fingers. Pleasant.

“I know,” Tifa replied, raising a smile to her lips.

When was the last time Tifa had smiled? She did not remember. Maybe when Vincent had been found in the crystal cave again. There had been something special at that moment. The end of the era, the beginning of a new one.

For everyone else except Tifa and Cloud. They walked in the same circle where Tifa always ran a little behind Cloud. Maybe it had already started when… when Aerith had come into the picture. Tifa was not bitter, but things had just changed. Derailed on a track which direction she could not determined. And now they were here. In an endless hamster ball with no chance to jump off the ride.

"To the 7th Heaven?" Rude asked.

“There,” Tifa replied, getting her feet moving.

Rude adjusted his steps to Tifa's pace. More long glances, but Tifa got a nod as well. The former inhabitants of the slum had moved to Edge, and many did even better than before. There was enough work in the developing city. If you looked at the big picture, things were really in good shape. Only Tifa was stuck. It was not like her wallowing in things this way but breaking out of the spiral was surprisingly difficult.

"Were you shopping?" Tifa asked.

She did not know how to do small talk with Rude. They did not really know each other.

"Actually, I was coming to 7th Heaven."

Rude’s words made Tifa startle. She glanced at him sideways. There had been a time when seeing the Turks in the neighborhood had not been a good sign. Chills keep coming back as did the echoes of the past.

“It will be few hours before I open the bar,” Tifa said.

"I'm looking for Strife."

Tifa startled again. Chills came back. Maybe she should just grab the shopping bag back and run away.Like it would have helped. Rude knew quite well where 7th Heaven was located. He would find there with or without Tifa. He had even occasionally visited the bar with Reno.

“Cloud is at work,” Tifa replied.

"I can wait."

Tifa had nothing to add to that. She closed her mouth and slowed her steps further. What did the Turks want from Cloud? Was it related to Rufus Shinra? The questions did not rise to Tifa's lips, though they swirled in her mind like a hurricane.

They were at the door of the 7th Heaven far too quickly. Tifa dug the key out of her bag, slid it into the lock, and finally jerked the door open. The air conditioning in the bar hummed. Tifa had taken Shelke to the WRO’s office just before going shopping and Denzel would not be out of school for a couple more hours, let alone Cloud back from delivery. It would be a downright miracle if he showed up before night.

Do I really have to entertain Rude until then?

“Can I have the bag? I take them to the back room,” Tifa said and held out her hand.

“I can carry them all the way,” Rude replied, stepping in without asking permission.

Tifa muttered her thanks and led them across the bar to the door that led to the kitchen side. She jerked open the refrigerator where the household items were stored. Rude picked up the bag on the next table and began emptying its contents. He picked up each product from the bag and handed it to Tifa as if he had done an important and interesting job and did not have to be a maid in the middle of his workday.Tifa pressed the refrigerator door shut and leaned her back on it. Rude folded the shopping bag into a neat bundle and placed it on the table.

“Would you like something to drink? I can make coffee,” Tifa said, pointing in the direction of the coffee maker.

"Thank you."

Rude roared in the middle of the kitchen for a moment but ended up at a four-person table set on the back wall. The window gave the bar to the backyard, where Denzel usually kept his bike and Cloud his motorcycle. Now both were gone. Tifa was alone. Alone with Rude.

The gurgling of the coffee maker tinted silence. Tifa dug the mugs out of the closet and placed them on the counter to wait.

“Milk? Sugar?” she asked.

"No thanks."

Tifa nodded at Rude's response. It seemed that Rude liked to drink his coffee black. The information came to mind instinctively, even though Tifa did not really need it. The Turks were not regular customers of the bar, let alone the circle of friends of Avalanche. Why did Tifa even care how Rude wanted to drink his coffee? It would have just been better to pour in the milk without asking, give a slightly rude impression and thus evict him away without saying directly that Tifa did not actually want him here.

Despite her thoughts, Tifa poured coffee into mugs and sipped milk to hers. She placed the mug in front of Rude and sat opposite him.

"What you want from Cloud?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, it's confidential."

"Did Rufus Shinra send you?"

"I can not tell."

That meant yes. Tifa sipped her coffee without knowing how to continue the conversation. It was easy to talk to customers. Now suddenly, she had no words. She was sitting in front of Turk, whom she had not really spend time with, if not counted the times they had fought each other.

"Do you always wear sunglasses?" Tifa finally asked as silence already began to sting between the ribs.

Rude coughed at his coffee mug, put it on the table, and grabbed his glasses. In one smooth motion, he lifted them, snapped the handles against the lenses, and placed the glasses in the pocket of his suit.

"Sorry. I know it's rude to keep glasses inside.”

Rude's eyes were deep brown, beautiful downright. Tifa had not expected to see such eyes in a man who worked for Shinra and got rid of wrong people and cleaned up the traces. How could gentleness and warmth be conveyed from the eyes of such a man?

“Do you have to spend a lot of time like this? Alone?”

Rude's question startled Tifa once again. She lifted the coffee mug to her lips and weighed the answer in her mind. How would she have responded if Yuffie had asked the same thing? What if the questioner had been Vincent? Or Shera? Barret and Cid would not have asked such a thing. Could Rude be treated like a friend? Or even like a mutual?

“Cloud is busy at work,” Tifa said at last. “But I’m not alone. Denzel is mostly at home in the afternoons, if he doesn't go out with friends, and Shelke keeps me company as well.”

“Denzel? That Midgar orphan?”

Tifa nodded.

“He has settled here well. He is like a child of my own.”

Rude nodded. Tifa spun her mug.

“I should probably start the dinner soon. Reeve will bring Shelke back at four o’clock, and that’s when Denzel will come from school too,” she said.

“Don’t let me bother you,” Rude replied.

Tifa kept the sigh inside and focused on her coffee. It seemed clear that Rude was not going to leave until he saw Cloud. Unfortunately, Cloud did not always come home even for the night. Perhaps she should have told it to Rude, but for some reason Tifa did not get the words out of her mouth. Her stomach was trembling, and her muscles felt tight. It was a miracle that the mug did not shake in her hands.

Rude sipped his coffee in peace as if enjoying his statutory break in a cafe. Tifa emptied her own mug and got up from the table. She put the mug into the dishwasher and began digging for groceries from the cupboards. While working her spine twitched in the same way as she was walking across the terrain in a dangerous place and had to fear an attack. The past had left its mark, and right now Rude was remining of everything that had happened.

The vegetable-meat stew was not Denzel’s favorite food but Shelke ate it surprisingly happily. Tifa spun the meat into the pan and began chopping the vegetables. The steady knocking of the knife was combined with the ticking of the clock and the rustling of the meat in an otherwise quiet kitchen. Rude was frighteningly silent, perhaps out of professional habit.

Suddenly the pain cut through Tifa's left index finger. The knife fell to the floor with clatter and the carrot pieces stained with carmine. The exclamation escaped her lips and mingled with the whining of the chair’s legs. Before Tifa even realized it, Rude had snatched the kitchen towel and pressed it folded against her finger.

The scent of dark roasted coffee and musky aftershave wrapped around Tifa. A warm and rough hand held her hand while the towel turned red. The pain throbbed in her finger, but a sudden feeling of warmth vibrated at the base of her abdomen. A feeling that should not even arise in this situation.

"Where do you have first aid supplies?"

Rude's voice swam in Tifa's ears, his breathing felt in her neck. Tifa could barely tell that the first aid kit was on the bar side under the counter. As Rude marched out of the kitchen, Tifa was left to press the towel against her finger and wondered when she had last been so close to anyone. She had hugged Yuffie a few weeks ago, but otherwise… Well, Cloud and she had… maybe last month…

“We should rinse the wound with clean water,” Rude said and reappeared next to Tifa.

When Tifa did not get the word out of her mouth, Rude grabbed her hand and removed the towel from the wound. The wound was not properly visible in the middle of the blood, but Rude's grips were certain as he opened the sink faucet and guided Tifa's hand under the water. Tifa was unable to remove her gaze from the finger from which the blood was wiped with the water into the sewer. The coolness caused the pain to subside.

Rude pressed the tap and raised Tifa's hand. He patted the wound dry with a clean part of the towel before starting to bandage her finger.

“The wound is clean and doesn’t look very deep,” he said. "I'd estimate no stitches are needed, but if it starts to bother you, you might want to show it to a doctor."

It certainly had the longest comment Tifa had ever heard from Rude’s mouth. The grip of the rough hand only came off her fingers when the left index finger was in a neat and careful package.

“Once the wound has healed, the treatment can, of course, be completed with cure materia,” Rude continued. "However, Shinra's policy is to reduce the non-essential use of the materia as much as possible for nature conservation reasons."

“I’m pretty sure that I’ll survive without a cure materia with this one,” Tifa replied.

So, the Shinra company was really thinking about conservation nowadays. Rude thought about conservation. There was something calming about it. After all, Reeve had said couple of times that Shinra’s policy of using mako and materia had changed. Maybe Tifa had even seen hints of it, but only now at this moment did the change seem more concrete.

Rude grabbed Tifa by the shoulders and pushed her to sit. He picked up the knife from the floor and washed it while Tifa watched. The bloody carrots ended up in the trash, and Rude chopped the remaining vegetables into the pot. He pushed the meat with a turner and eventually tipped them into the pot as well.

"What else comes to this?" he asked, and Tifa was no longer sure what was going on.

This kind of things just did not happen.

Tifa listed the ingredients and watched as Rude actually dug everything up, added them to the pot and finally pushed the pot into the oven as if he would be accustomed to tinkering in the kitchen of mutuals. Did this mean that Tifa would have to ask him to stay for dinner?

~ o ~

Denzel spun the food on his plate and Shelke was not eating her serving either. Tifa tried to ignore and focused on her own portion while going through what was expected during the evening. The bar would open at six, and the evening would be busy. Denzel had to get homework done before that, and it would be good to have a moment to talk to Shelke so that she could settle into the family better. It was so difficult to try to raise a 19-year-old woman who was imprisoned in the body of a 9-year-old and whose mind had probably suffered from the cruel treatment of Deepground. Tifa could not even understand what was going on in Shelke's head.

"Who was that guy who was here a couple of days ago?" Denzel asked suddenly and looked up from his plate. Eyes tapped straight to Tifa.

“Just an acquaintance,” Tifa replied.

Denzel had come home just after Rude had angled the stew from the oven. At the time, the boy had just glanced at Rude and disappeared upstairs while announcing that he was not hungry. On any other day, Tifa would have demanded him to eat, but this time she had let it slip. Eventually, she had eaten with Rude alone, as Shelke’s mako tank visit had took longer than expected and Reeve had only brought her home at the evening. Cloud had not even appeared for the night, and Rude had left the scene after groaning at the bar until ten in the evening.

Now, however, Cloud sat at the table and turned to look at Tifa. His eyes hit the wrapped finger again, which he had even asked when he got home. At the time, Tifa had said that she had been sloppy, and the matter had not been discussed further. Only now did Tifa realize that she probably should have told Cloud that Rude had been waiting for him all evening.

“It was Rude,” Tifa told Cloud. “He wanted to see you and he waited here until ten o’clock pm…”

Cloud’s gaze glued more and more tightly to Tifa’s finger.

"Did he…?" Cloud left the end of the question unspoken.

“I cut my finger, and Rude helped with the bandage,” Tifa replied.

The whole essence of Cloud relaxed as Tifa watched, and he began to eat his portion again. Denzel followed the conversation with more interest than would have been necessary, but Shelke again seemed immersed in her own world.

"Aren't you interested in why he was waiting for you?" Tifa asked.

Cloud shrugged.

"I already know. Reno told me Shinra's greetings yesterday. "

"And?"

"It's classified."

That's what Rude had said too, but now the tension sneak to Tifa’s temples. Sometimes it seemed that every single thing with Cloud was classified. The information had to be dug out with pincers. If Tifa remembered correctly, it had been different before Aerith died. Sure, the problems were to be expected knowing Cloud’s past, but how much secrecy and squabbling was too much? Tifa would have given a lot if she had gotten back the Cloud who knew how to joke and throw sarcastic comments. At times, she saw glimpses of that Cloud but never got a decent grip.

"Why is it classified?" Denzel asked.

“You should eat your food,” Tifa told him, pointing to a plate from which he had not lost a single potato yet. It was as if she had twisted with a three-year-old, even though Denzel was closer to pre-teens than defiant age. Or were those two the same thing?

“I’m not hungry,” Denzel replied.

Tifa sighed. Maybe the boy was telling the truth. It did not matter as long as he did not steal biscuits from the closet tonight. Somehow Tifa had not been able to imagine her life would be like this. She spun in a circle formed by a bar, taking care of the children - if Shelke could be called as one - and waiting for Cloud to come home.

Denzel got up from the table and left his plate. Before Tifa even had time to open her mouth, he had already disappeared upstairs.

“You could sometimes say something to Denzel, too,” Tifa told Cloud.

“Like it would help at all.”

“It could help. Maybe Denzel needs a man’s support for his life. I can't give it, no matter how much I want to.”

“I’m not a good educator. Isn’t it enough that I try to make a living for all of us?”

"I work, too, you know."

"But you manage these things better anyway."

Tifa said no more. Circles. Everything revolved in circles. Life was one great circle from which one could not detach. What if you just simply stopped? What if she would just stop caring and let Cloud withdraw, Denzel not eat and Shelke immerse yourself in dreams? Why should she had to be the one to keep the house of cards upright if no one else agreed to try.

Tifa got up from the table and threw Denzel's food away with her own. She wiped her hand on the apron before hanging the garment on the rack and marching to the bar to arrange the bottles. They would not have been needed to arrange, but it was easier to do something than not to.

Cloud soon appeared from the kitchen to the bar and wandered aimlessly for a moment before decided to sit at one of the tables. Shelke followed him soon after.

“Vincent Valentine,” she said suddenly.

"What about Vincent?" Tifa asked.

"Vincent Valentine is behind the window."

Tifa turned her gaze to the window and noticed Shelke was right. Vincent waved his hand, and Tifa hurried to open the still locked door. Vincent had not been seen very often recently. Tifa suspected that Shelke was complicit, as she stared at Vincent all the time with a strangely dreamy look on her face. Maybe Tifa should have been more worried about that, too, but she just could not handle everything. Was it not enough that she had contributed to saving the world three times?

Tifa greeted Vincent and let him inside. Cloud nodded from his corner table, where Vincent headed. Tifa went to get coffee for everyone and decided to sit with the men, even though right now she just wanted to shake Cloud.

"How are you doing?" Tifa asked and lower the coffee mug in front of Vincent. "Have you renovated your apartment in Kalm?"

“It’s already starting to look better. It was in rather good shape given the condition many other buildings are in,” Vincent said.

“Hopefully, nothing like this will ever happen again,” Tifa said. She had to admit that the Deepground case had lifted her skin in the goosebumps, even though she had eventually been involved in it as little as possible. How many more times would some grimness be dug out of Shinra’s basements? People would have only wanted to live a normal life, but again and again the world around them threatened to be destroyed by the actions of Shinra company. When would it all end?

"How are you doing?" Vincent asked.

Cloud shrugged and tried to sink into his own coffee. Tifa forced a smile on her face and began to talk about Denzel's school success and how hard the boy was already waiting for the summer vacation. Tifa did not mention Shelke, but she could see girl’s gaze cling to Vincent's back.

"What has happened to your hand?" Vincent asked as Tifa pointed around in the middle of the explanation.

"I accidentally cut my finger; it wasn't a big deal."

“Fortunately, Rude was there to help,” Cloud said.

"That’s right!" Tifa said. "It would have been quite awkward to do all the housework all alone." She could not help the spike, which creeped in her voice instinctively. Cloud's expression soured a couple of degrees, but he said nothing.

"Why was Rude here?" Vincent asked and glanced from Tifa to Cloud.

“It’s reportedly classified information,” Tifa replied.

“Damn it, Tifa! You know that I can’t talk about work,” Cloud said.

Vincent leaned back at the table and sipped his coffee, looking to regret the entire visit. Tifa grabbed her own mug and got up from the table.

“I need to prepare to open the bar, so I’ll leave you to chat,” she said, hurrying away. She had almost arranged a scene in front of Vincent. That was not like her, and now something slimy meandered in her stomach. She should be patient with Cloud. He had to be given time to recover from everything. Denzel had to be given time to clear his rebellion and Shelke also needed time.

Time to run in a circle. Tifa wanted to either stop or rush forward. She was so tired, so bored. Why didn’t anyone ever ask what she would need?

No, these thoughts were selfish. Cloud was not intentionally tedious, he needed understanding Tifa was being unreasonable when trying to pressure Cloud to move forward. Everything would happen on its time and everything would be alright. Some day. Besides, Cloud was not responsible for Tifa’s happiness, she had to take care of herself… As soon as she had made sure everything was in place at the bar and things were going well.

~ o ~

The evening was busy, as Fridays always were. Tifa served one pint after another and tried to remember to give each one with a few nice comments. Maybe work could be easier? If she hired even one employee, she could take more free nights a week and spend more time with friends.

"Tifa?"

Cloud appeared on the bar counter with a cell phone in his hand. His face was again almost impossible to read, but Tifa decided not to even try this time. She would give space and understanding to him, life was not a speed run but a marathon.

“I have to… I got an urgent gig,” Cloud said. “Denzel came home just a moment ago and went to his room. And Shelke left upstairs as soon as Vincent left.”

“All right,” Tifa replied. "See you when you get home."

Cloud nodded and headed to the door. He glanced back to the bar before slipping into Edge's darkening night. Just a few minutes later, the motorcycle rumbled and disappeared to who knows where. A classified work gig. Yet again. In a place Cloud did not bother to mention. There was probably a good reason for that, though, and Cloud intentionally was not difficult. He just could not talk about his work, as he had said.

A young blond woman at the other end of the bar counter waved her hand at Tifa. Tifa hurried to the woman and was already fishing for a pint as the woman shook her head.

"I'm new here and I'm looking for a job," she said. "I have lived and worked in Junon at the bar before, so I thought …"

Tifa blinked. Had the Planet herself heard her?

“Marie,” the young woman introduced herself and handed Tifa her resume over the counter. Tifa grabbed it but barely caught a glimpse of the text. If a woman had even a little experience, that was enough.

"When can you get started?" she asked.

"At any time. It looks like you would need sick leave,” Marie replied.

"Welcome!" Tifa said, and this time a genuine smile gasped on her lips. "My hand isn’t as bad as it seems, but I could undoubtedly take a break."

After advising Marie of where to find everything, Tifa escaped to the kitchen for a moment and leaned her back on the refrigerator door. She could not believe her luck. Perhaps the appearance of Marie had been a gift for her patience, that she had persevered to move forward despite all the difficulties. This could be a new start of slightly easier everyday life if Marie turned out to be a good employee.

Tifa barely had time to clear her thoughts when Marie was already peeking through the door. Tifa straightened up and took a questioning look on her face.

“There’s someone here asking you,” Marie said. "I did say you were on a break, but… that guy is pretty scary."

The last words were a mere whisper, and the cold ripples run along Tifa's skin. She straightened up and followed Marieta back to the bar. It seemed she just had to forgot the break.

Marie slipped back behind the counter as the number of customers had not decreased. However, Tifa did not notice anyone but Rude standing in the doorway. Why had he reappeared?

Tifa forced a sigh down her throat and stepped across the bar to Rude. The man grabbed his sunglasses and pushed them back into the front pocket of his jacket so deftly that she could barely register the gesture.

“Cloud isn’t there tonight either,” Tifa said.

"I know."

Tifa would have liked to ask how Rude knew it, but again the words got stuck in her throat. The gaze focused on the eyes whose warmth she had noticed just a few days ago. Maybe that was why Rude wore sunglasses all the time. It was hard to consider a man with such a gentle look a threat.

"How's your hand?" Rude asked and at the same time opened the door of 7th Heaven as if he had been leaving right away.

Instinctively, Tifa followed Rudea to the terrace. She leaned against the railing and raised her left hand.

“Still hanging with me. Thanks again for the help,” she said.

Rude changed the weight from one foot to the other and brushed his bald head. Gone was the confident secret service employee Tifa was used to seeing. If Cloud had become an even more sullen, Rude had also experienced a peculiar change.

"So, Strife is a lot away from home?" Rude asked.

“He has a lot of work to do,” Tifa replied. She was supposed to stop at it, but Rude's face had a sincere look. Maybe it was sheer pretense - though Tifa did not come up with a reason for that - but something in that warm gaze made her tongue sing at that very moment. Suddenly she told how Cloud was way too far away, how Denzel was difficult sometimes and how Shelke was a little too much. Tifa would have liked to have seen Yuffie and Shera more often, but the chances were slim.

“Denzel is such a big boy that he gets along with Shelke at home for a few hours in the evening every now and then,” Rude said. "And you have time during the day."

“Yes, but Yuffie and Shera have their own jobs.”

Rude nodded. "I understand."

Tifa was not at all sure Rude really understood, but it would have been impolite to say so. Instead, she apologized for having opened up about her situation. After all, they were not friends, acquaintances at most. Former enemies.

"Do you ever want to go for coffee?" Rude asked.

Tifa shuddered and looked at the man more closely. Rude retreated half a step.

“It just sounds like you’d need company and someone who is a good listener. I’m just saying. Not a night date, just a coffee break at daytime."

"Don't you have to work?"

"Rufus is quite flexible in terms of working hours."

Tifa blinked at Rude but then turned her gaze to the terrace floor. How bad would it be if she took a little bit of time for herself? Sure, the offer came from a curious direction, but maybe this was a sign. In the same way that the appearance of Marie had to be a sign. It was time to take steps in a new direction. Open the door to new friendships.

“On Monday,” Tifa replied.