#final fantasy vii fan fiction

[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]

"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 

[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.

[the-bar-sinister]

Restructuring (2682 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 1/?

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng, Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII) Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Angst and Feels, During Canon, Missing Scene, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drama & Romance, Flirting, Romance, Trauma, Polyamorous Turks (Compilation of FFVII), POV Rufus Shinra, POV Reno (Compilation of FFVII), POV Rude (Compilation of FFVII)

Summary: In the aftermath of Sector 7's destruction and the death of president Shinra, things are changing. With enemies everywhere, Rufus and his turks have to rely on one another, watch each others backs, and gather their strength with new blood and old allies.

-

It was the best view in Midgar; not his father's office, choked in an excess of gold leaf and obsidian, but the helipad outside it. The office was his now— everything in Midgar was, now that the people of Shinra knew he'd taken the reins. Most of the city had yet to know. In the wake of the disasters, that was intentional.

There was too much confusion down below. The rubble that used to be Plate 7 and it's undercity still marred the skyline, and the ruins of the expressway and surrounding city still smoked in the wake of the tornado that chewed through it like nothing.

One disaster after another. 

Better to let it fall on his bastard of a father than himself, even as he orchestrated the salvage and rescue operations with the help of that walking ball of anxiety—Reeve—and of course, the Turks.

He didn't trust his father's executives, most of them, as far as he could throw them. Not now, anyway. Not when their loyalties to the former president showed in the way they'd still not gotten used to 'President Rufus Shinra' instead of 'Vice-president'. But he had the Turks, led by Tseng, who'd been following him around since the day of the takeover as a combination administrative assistant and stalwart bodyguard out of concern for an opportunistic attack from those foolish splinter cell Avalanche agents, or Wutai's recent delegation of thieves and assassins.

It was all such a headache. Wutai spies, the schism in Avalanche throwing off all his hard work with them behind the scenes, and all these disasters piling up around them— it made him feel in the need for a stiff drink.

He looked down at the city sprawling out below, wind whipping through his hair and called behind him. "Tseng." 

Tseng was at his side in hardly a moment, sharp, narrow features composed as usual, hands clasped behind his back, ready for whatever the president might need. If Midgar was a shifting sandpit, then Tseng was a steady rock.

"Sir."

A steady rock was needed—more than anything. Rufus pet Darkstar's ears, feeling the occasional light tap of his tentacle-like tail against his side. He wouldn't—couldn't— show it to the world, but without the steady presence of Tseng, Rufus would have struggled.

A new era never came easy; much less when you had to dig your way out of the pit your father dug with his fanaticism and hubris. He needed Tseng, as he knew Tseng needed him.

"I'd like an update on the Turks' situation." 

"The dispersed operatives have remained in contact. Individual reports available at your request. Core operatives are, as always, at your disposal… however…"

Rufus was keen enough, and knew Tseng well enough, to register the slight downturn of his lips where others would have missed the change in expression.

"Reno's injuries?" Rufus placed his fingers on his chin, looking over his shoulder at Tseng with a quiet huff of breath "I'd been concerned they were far worse than he'd let on." 

"They are." Tseng's jaw tensed subtly. "He's been trying to hide it. You know what he's like at the best of times."

The subtext was clear. These were not the best of times. Reno would be even more stubborn and cavalier than usual.

Rufus brushed his hand through his hair. "Then you and I both know how to deal with the situation. It's with a firm hand, and an unyielding spirit—"

By which he absolutely meant 'insist that Reno take vacation leave, and do not back down under any circumstances'. He was the president of Shinra—Reno could complain all he liked, but he'd be taking that break as ordered.

Rest did a body good, he'd heard.

Even if it wasn't advice he himself liked to take. 

"He's going to argue," Tseng sighed. "No, he has already been arguing. He doesn't want to leave you short handed during this… mess."

"Especially on the eve that I'm about to send you all away on a critical mission to tackle those—robed problems."

Darkstar huffed, and Rufus pet under his chin before giving Tseng a thin smile. "Simple then—it's a new era isn't it? Tell him we won't be short staffed. We have a promising young candidate for the Turks in line. We have her join your team and she can go in his stead on this particular mission." 

Tseng's mouth quirked again– this time in the opposite direction. Almost a smile.

"I think I know just the candidate you mean, sir. A new era, and an opportunity to expand the operations again after that… unfortunate incident. On that note, our candidate's sister isn't going to be pleased if she hears about this recruitment second hand."

The incident. That was one way to describe it. Only a few months ago the Turks had been a unit with almost two dozen operatives. Now it was down to three, and they'd barely been spared execution. The others were all in hiding, thought dead by the company at large.

It was clear what Tseng was suggesting. Now was an opportunity to recall them, if Rufus wanted.

"Oh I imagine she would be livid." Rufus' laugh was short, clipped and refined as it ever was—when he was composing himself outside the thrill of combat.

He tilted his head over his shoulder. "I think she—and her friends—deserve to hear about the restructuring of our beloved Shinra. We can let her know of her sister's orientation at the same time. That seems like a tidy way to kill two birds with a single stone."

His father was the one who'd whittled the Turks down into a shadow of their former selves. His father was the one with the order for their execution—but he wasn't his father, and he could use good men by his side again instead of the riff-raff his father kept close.

Like the detestable Hojo, or his corporate toadies.

"Consider it done then. I'll start opening channels, along with sending Elena the formal invitation to active duty. Rude can break the news to Reno."

Tseng stepped closer to Rufus, looking out on the view below, too. It was clear he was pleased.

"Good. It's only fitting for our new era to be guided by a strong hand—one I trust. And I trust the Turks more than Heidegger and his men."

Rufus reached out, his hand finding the small of Tseng's back as a smile crept over his lips. "So you'd best make sure they're up to muster, Tseng. I'm trusting you." 

Tseng leaned into him, his own gloved hand returning the gesture, resting on Rufus' shoulder. "As always, I'll strive to be worthy of that trust, sir. We all will."

-

Sector 8 was one of the hearts of the city—art, music, shops for the rich and fabulous of Midgar, and as much of Midgar's culture as you could take. But it was also home to one of the best noodle shops topside.

There was a better one—nestled deep in Wall Market, but with the tornado the trains had been all but shut down again. But topside—the Dancing Cactuar Noodle Bar was just the dive for you, nestled just out of sight of larger, more illustrious restaurants.

Down a cramped alleyway, past the peeling Loveless posters and forgotten Wutai War propaganda that had never been taken down—that was where a true gourmand could find the best ramen in Midgar.

Rude sat on the stool, sunglasses fogged with the steam from his bowl as he tilted a glass of beer back and forth in his fingers.

He'd taken Reno here to break a bit of news his partner wouldn't like—the least he could do was treat him to dinner.

Of course, Reno was already suspicious

-

Reno knew something was up when his partner offered to treat him to noodles. On a normal day it probably wouldn't have been anything to worry about; maybe Rude had a woman he wanted to complain about, or to loop him in on some rumor going around the Shinra offices.

But it wasn't a normal day. It had been a string of very not normal days.

And Reno could tell when his partner was going to tell him something he didn't like. He felt like he had a good idea what it might be about but considering all the chaos lately he wasn't about to make any firm guesses.

Well, at least he was treating him to dinner first.

He played it casual. He'd let Rude get to it when he got to it.

"Man, when's the last time we were here, huh?" Reno leaned on his elbow as he sipped his broth. "Been a hell of a few months."

"Few months, yeah. Back before any of the reactors went up in smoke. Think I was still dating Astrid. The actress who was in that musical down the street."

It hadn't gone well. 

"Woof, sorry I asked." He laughed and knocked his knee against Rude's companionably. He only regretted it slightly– that leg was the less injured one. "Hey at least that's in the past, right?"

"At least," Rude chuckled under his breath before nursing a sip of his beer. "all in the past—but the noodles taste the same."

He glanced sidelong at Reno. "How you holding up?" 

"Me?" He flashed Rude one of his charming, toothy smiles, but he didn't expect the expression to ward him off like it would anyone else. "I'm doing great, man. Never better. You know. except for the everything."

"Except for the everything," Rude agreed with a wry smile. "Things just keep getting worse."

From the plate drop, to the attack on Shinra HQ, to the tornado that seemed to move like a thing possessed, 'worse' was an understatement. 

Reno nodded, thinking it over as he shoveled an entire half an egg into his mouth. Things were escalating. Rufus being in charge now was great, but it sure wasn't going to make things less tumultuous. And who knew what was on the horizon? A fucking tornado wasn't something anyone could predict.

"Keeping us on our toes, huh, partner?"

Rude nodded as he slurped down some noodles. "...sure are." his leg—very lightly—tapped against Reno's knee. "Even our new President is. We're getting some fresh blood." 

That wasn't what Reno had expected to hear. He sat up straighter, resting his leg against Rude's as he looked at him curiously, studying his expression.

"Fresh blood? For real?"

Rude's expressions were often hard to read—for anyone that wasn't Reno. He glanced sidelong at him, the light catching his glasses as a rather amused uptick of his lips formed. 

"Yeah. Seems Rufus wants to help us get back to fighting shape." 

Reno pumped his fist. "Oh hell yeah! It's been a shit show since we got decimated like that!" For a moment, he lived in a beautiful world. Then a suspicion popped into his head. "Wait, this isn't because I got a little roughed up, is it?"

"I think mostly it's because the old President died," Rude said bluntly, pushing his glasses up "---you getting roughed up means she's being partnered with me for the next op while you take a brief vacation. Rufus is taking the chance to re-bolster the ranks." 

"She?" Reno leaned in closer. "Wait, you don't mean–"

Sure, they'd all been speculating when they were going to bring the rookie in, but now? She was barely out of the academy.

Rude placed his arm around Reno's shoulders. 

"Yeah. Emma's little sis. Elena. This next mission's going to be simple recon, Reno." His fingers lightly squeezed his shoulder "barely a training exercise. Rufus wants her in the field asap." 

"Yeah? and if she's going with you on this 'training exercise', what about me?" Reno was pouting. He knew he was pouting. Sulking even, under Rude's arm as he moved closer to him. 

He knew he was injured. He knew everyone wanted him to take some time off to recover. In an ideal world he'd love to do that, but he couldn't just dip out and leave everyone. Not right now, not with everything going on. What if something happened to them?

Rude let him rest against his shoulder, lifting his beer to his lips with a shake of his head. "President Rufus Shinra is ordering you to take a vacation to heal up, partner."

Reno let his head fall on Rude's shoulder, slumping down. Tseng, he could argue with. Tseng he could ignore.

"Aw man, orders from the Prez? For real?" He wasn't going to be able to say no to Rufus. He was really bad at saying no to Rufus and that was before he was president.

Rude's gloved fingers tugged at his ponytail gently as he let him collapse on him with a quiet sigh. "Yep. Pretty sure it's because he knows you're more banged up than you look." 

"You told Tseng." Reno huffed a breath. He knew Rude probably didn't have to tell Tseng, the man had eyes of his own, and Reno was a lot more banged up than he'd tried to pretend. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. "And Tseng told the boss."

"Didn't say a word, Reno." Rude tilted his glass towards him. "But Tseng's got eyes like a hawk. And he's worried that if we send you out there and we run into one more problem, you're gone." 

"But what if you guys run into problems and I'm not there to cover you?" It was a weak protest, but it was his real worry. If one of them got hurt— killed— while he was putting his feet up, he'd never forgive himself. His conscience was already in knots from the plate. His hands were shaking just thinking about losing someone he actually cared about.

The sight of Rude's sunglasses on the smashed concrete flashed through his mind again.

Rude's arm lifted, and his hand suddenly shadowed Reno's to squeeze it firmly as it shook.

"We'll handle it. Worse comes to worse, we retreat." He smiled thinly "---have to teach the new kid that tactic too, after all. Right?" 

"Yeah, I guess," he sighed. He poked his finger into Rude's chest. "You better, though! If you guys are gonna force me to take care of myself, you better be fucking careful too!"

"You want my word?" Rude's lips quirked under his sunglasses. He looked down at the finger jabbing his chest for a moment, the chatter in the quiet noodle shop filling the air around them. "Promise. Without me you'd cause way too much trouble."

"Alright." Reno sighed, and relented. Rude's word was as good as iron clad. "Then I'll get some rest while you have some fun with the new girl. Lucky bastard. You better buy me a drink after these noodles to make up for it."

He rested his whole hand on Rude's chest for just a moment, and then let it drop, their legs still touching.

Rude nodded. 

"Best drink our new salary can afford," he said with a low chuckle, before his voice dropped. "I'll make it up to you later, too."

He paused and let his voice raise a little more "I'll tell you all about it. Heard she's a charmer."

"Must have changed since she was bussing tables then," Reno teased. 

His mood was already improving, with Rude's latest little promise sending a shiver up his bruised spine. It'd be fine. It was all going to work out fine.

"I hear that kind of service work tends to bring out the angriest in folks," Rude smiled thinly. "Can't blame her for finding us annoying. On her paycheck, anyone would be." 

"What, a couple charmers like us? Guess she's gonna find out if we're more annoying as customers or co-workers." Reno laughed. "I'm gonna grill you on how it goes with her. I want every detail."

"Every last detail, Reno," he pushed up his glasses. "Right down to the type of gun she whips out." 

[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.....

[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

[bardic-tales]

Title: Lost

Pairing: Bianca (f!OC) / Sephiroth

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 448

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Setting: FF VII OG

Warnings: Violence, mental health, body horror, dystopian elements, fear / anxiety, paranoia, toxic relationships, isolation, enviromental destruction

Summary: Bianca and Sephiroth navigate the ruins of a decaying city in search of a remnant of Jenova.

Prompt Filled: Lost

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

Excerpt:

“I think we already came this way,” the short, raven-haired woman craned her neck up and stared at the buildings towering towards the sky.

“We’re not lost. I know where we’re going.” Sephiroth replied. As he walked beside her, the wind whipped his silver hair around his waist and shoulders.

“I think we already came this way,” the short, raven-haired woman craned her neck up and stared at the buildings towering towards the sky.

Metal and other debris fell from the buildings, crashing around them, and kicked up dirt, dusting her darkened wings. Her feathers fluttered, shaking the crud from her velvet wings.

“We’re not lost. I know where we’re going.” Sephiroth replied. As he walked beside her, the wind whipped his silver hair around his waist and shoulders.

Bianca held back her sarcastic remark. His frustration echoed through the bond that tied them together. Clearly, he knew where they were going, as they passed the same bent street sign three times. He insisted he could feel the remnant of Jenova — a cluster of cells that was hidden away by Shinra.

Sephiroth walked further ahead of her now. His boots crunched over the fallen leaves and crumbled cobblestones in the relentless pursuit of his mother’s cells.

“There’s Pestock Ave again,” Bianca pointed out as they passed the green sign another time. They were going in circles — or so she thought.

Except, this sign did not read Pestock Ave. Rust eroded the first half of the name, but if one really squinted, they could make out the letters: est Prestock Ave.

Once again, Sephiroth marched forward. He held Masamune in his hand with the blade of the ōdachi pointed behind them. The black and silver blade gleamed in the moonlight flowing down on them. “This way.”

Fifteen minutes went by before they stood before a dilapidated building with a blinking green cross. Over the decaying arch, Bianca and Sephiroth could make out the words ‘Evergreen Hospital’.

As they stood before the ruined hospital, Bianca looked towards Sephiroth. Her stomach dropped. She couldn’t go in there. Through the bond that linked both of them through time and space, Bianca had been privy to the suffering Sephiroth had gone through at the hands of Hojo, as well as her own vivisections by the hands of the mad scientific and his assistant, Diana Ravenscroft. She was only alive thanks to her demonic regeneration.

No, she thought. I can’t.

“Come, Bianca.”

“Sephiroth? Are you sure it’s in there?”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he walked to the entrance. She didn’t want to stay out there by herself. Who knew what types of fiends his presence kept at bay?

As she glanced over and stared at the back of his leather coat, which contoured to his body and stopped at his ankles, Bianca took a deep, steadying breath. He held the door open for her. Despite the anxiety rising in her, she stepped inside.

Still, she wondered if they were still lost.

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!

[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.

[the-bar-sinister]

Restructuring (5536 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 2/? Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng, Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII), Elena/Tseng (Compilation of FFVII), Rufus Shinra/The TurksPolyturks - Relationship

Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Angst and Feels, During Canon, Missing Scene, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drama & Romance, Flirting, Romance, Trauma, Polyamorous Turks (Compilation of FFVII), POV Rufus Shinra, POV Reno (Compilation of FFVII), POV Rude (Compilation of FFVII), POV Elena (Compilation of FFVII)

Summary: In the aftermath of Sector 7's destruction and the death of president Shinra, things are changing. With enemies everywhere, Rufus and his turks have to rely on one another, watch each others backs, and gather their strength with new blood and old allies.

-

Elena's muscles were still sore from the workout she'd put herself through in her shitty slum apartment in the undercity. Working out was a good way to reduce stress, one of her military academy buddies always said. And now her body was jittery from the cups and cups of coffee she'd been tipping back in the Shinra building's lavish waiting room, and her mind was buzzing away.

After everything—the academy, her sister's rivalry and disappearance, her stint as a waitress in Wall Market, the incident with the Ravens when the Turks showed them just how amazing they really were. She'd applied herself, renewed her training and finally heard word back from the company—they were seriously thinking about taking her in as a Turk.

When the phone rang, she'd finished up her workout and practically fled to Plate 0 in a mad dash to show them just how responsible she could be. It was that very responsibility that left her sitting around and waiting to 'discuss' something with the top brass, way too early and sweating bullets. 

Elena was contemplating just how early she was when there was a sharp rap on the door, before it opened immediately and admitted a slim, professional man in a dark suit. She knew who he was.

She felt the sudden rush of heat to her face as she nearly choked on her latest sip of shockingly decent company coffee. Tseng. Handsome, ruthless, intelligent Tseng—one of the few Turks she respected even back during her waitressing days.

She snapped an awkward salute while trying not to cough. 

Tseng's breath sighed through his lips, and he nodded. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting, Elena."

She watched as he carefully tugged the hems of his gloves into place, his careful, scrutinizing eyes on her.

"Not at all, sir!" she wiped her lips with a napkin before sitting upright with a smile. "Just taking in the Shinra Building. I've been keeping myself occupied!" 

He glanced significantly at the cup and her napkin. There was the trace of a smile at the edge of his lips. "I see. Why don't we head to my office– give the secretary space to brew another pot of coffee."

Elene shot up with a nod, tossing the cup fluidly into the trashbin. "Honestly, sir, I'd gone through the entire pot. She's been glarin' daggers at me every time she passed by." 

"I thought that might be the case. Your hands are shaking– and I never noticed that before." There was a smug air to him as he offered her his hand to stand.

Her shaky hand took his as her eyes widened. 

"Shit, you could tell?" she blurted before she could stop herself. "Sorry, Tseng—sir, I'm just, I mean…" she stammered before she smiled awkwardly "I didn't think I'd actually get a call back so soon." 

His fingers grasped hers firmly as she stood and he shook his head. "Admittedly, we didn't think we'd be calling you this soon. But let's discuss it more privately."

From there, he led her through the halls, and up one of the long, smooth Shinra elevators. All the way up, though, she couldn't help but glance up at Tseng with a barely restrained smile. 

Her big sister—the golden child—she'd been a Turk. A damn good one too, from the stories everyone told. For a while, Elena had resented them, both for her sister's position, and the rowdy way they made her life at the bar hard. But all that changed when the Ravens kidnapped her.

She swallowed as she shifted from foot to foot. After that, her respect for the organization only grew—and her attraction to its most prominent agents alongside it. Not that it was the only reason she wanted to join up…

On the way up the handsome, rather icy, senior turk stood with his gloved hands behind his back and asked her banal trivialities– small talk that seemed especially small, and deliberate, in the face of all the turmoil that the city had faced in the last days and weeks.

It was like the whole world had gone mad. Reactors exploding and taking chunks of the city with them, killing innocent civilians above and below—the plate's sudden and horrific drop to the city below. The whole earth had shaken that night, she'd felt it in her apartment outside Wall Market, and she'd seen the terrified refugees flood the streets. A whole neighborhood full of people, gone in an instant.

And then a freak tornado, supposedly generated by Wutai-Avalanche weather magic of some sort, killed countless more. It felt like the world itself was turning against Midgar again. She tried to put the thought aside as the anger bubbled inside her. In times like these—the world needed the Turks. Someone who could step in and solve problems.

Fucking Avalanche.

When the door to the office slid open, he stood back and gestured for her to enter.

Elena gave him her best attempt at a charming smile before she slid into the office with her hands behind her back. 

He stepped in with her, and the door slid shut. The office was large, handsome and impressive– imposing, even, with its shades of black and slate grey. Most of it was dominated by a large meeting table with holo-VR inputs, and massive, high backed leather chairs that looked exceptionally comfortable.

Tseng pulled a chair out for her. "Please."

"Woah," Elena slid into the chair, brushing her pale hair from her eyes with a wide smile. "This is Turks headquarters, right? The place where the magic happens? THE meeting room?"

Either that or it was a fancy conference room and she was going to look like an idiot.

"This is the administrative research office, yes. The Turks' headquarters." Tseng chuckled lightly and sat down in the chair facing hers, his fingers laced together on the table. "I'm sure you have an idea why I called you."

Elena leaned forward with a deliberate cockiness to her grin. "You realized I'm the best candidate you're ever gonna find and you wanna hire me on as part of the organization, right?"

Whether it was true or not, she figured she'd come out swinging.

"We do want to hire you." The corner of his lip tugged slightly. "Effective, immediately, in fact."

Elena's breath caught in her throat. "...wait, immediately?"

She looked down at her long duster jacket and 'business casual' blouse and dress pants. She wasn't not dressed for the job, but she'd kind of set out for this probably-interview with the assumption that she'd be given a few weeks' notice.

Not that she minded! She'd been dreaming of this—if they wanted her right now? They GOT her right now!

"Woah." 

"Whoa," he repeated wryly. "And yes, immediately. One of our members is on medical leave, which puts us in need of support for a critical assignment."

That led her easily into the other reason she'd gotten so obsessed with joining up. She bit her lip lightly. 

"sounds like you're badly understaffed Tseng, if someone's on medical leave you can count on me! But—" Her sister, Emma, and the rest of the Turks. "I'm surprised you don't have the manpower to cover that kind of thing." 

"We've been critically short staffed for months. Once you sign the paperwork, I can fill you in on the situation." 

The paperwork was a stack almost as thick as a novel, which he pushed toward her with a pen sitting on top.

"So uh," Elena picked up the pen with a lopsided grin. "It looks like you want me to write the missing act of Loveless over here—or read it."It was a joke but—hot damn was that a lot of paperwork. No surprise, really. They were the top secret of the top secrets! The heart of Shinra's administrative division! And she'd sign as many papers as she had to! Even if it took all fucking day.

Which it might. 

"Only if the act is comprised entirely of your signature," he drawled. "Read it or don't is up to you."

Tseng clasped his hands over the table, watching her with his admittedly ever gaze.

"I'm gonna read it, Tseng," She glanced up at him before she quickly began to read. "You're not gonna find me lacking in loyalty, but I sure as hell wanna know what I'm signing up for." 

"And I won't fault you for that." He nodded, and stepped away, leaving her with the documents for a moment as he seemed to be doing something at a desk further to the front of the office.

Elena read quickly—but carefully. So damn carefully. The times she wasn't butting heads with Emma over her lack of faith in Elena's abilities—or so worked up with jealousy and frustration that it'd turn into an argument anyway— Emma told her about the legendary power of Shinra's NDA agreements. You had to be extra careful you didn't sign your way into all sorts of horrible shit.

From the way it sounded, they'd even take your firstborn when they snuck a line in there about it somewhere. Your soul too, if they found a way to harvest it. So you made sure you knew what you were signing your name on. Mostly so far it was standard stuff—top secret classifications, a vow to keep all classified information secret, repercussions for letting things slip—typical stuff.

She was signing away the old life of Elena, the Wall Market waitress, to become a real member of the Turks; shockingly high on the ladder for a newbie, too if the implication of these contracts were anything to go by.

Her father would be proud—if he was ever proud of her at all, that was. Which he wasn't. 

As she was finishing with signing she heard Tseng murmuring to someone on the phone at the other desk. Checking on someone, it sounded like, though she couldn't make out much of the conversation.

Her hand was starting to hurt—just a little, more than it did when she practiced at the range for sure. She was better suited for marksmanship than paper pushing, that was for sure.

As she made her way past the halfway point, she tilted her head to listen in a bit on her handsome future superior officer's conversation.

Old waitress habits died hard.

"Yes, I'm sure. … Yes, I know you're bored. … we can handle it. I know you already had this conversation with Rude. … Yes, as soon as you're off leave."

Seemed the guy they had on leave wasn't taking to it well—she couldn't blame him. She knew she'd be a mess if they ever put her on an extended vacation.

She signed her name again on yet another sheet of paper as she wondered exactly which Turk she was temporarily replacing, anyway. 

Tseng flipped his phone closed and turned to look at her with his narrow, piercing eyes. She could tell with just a glance that he knew she'd been listening.

"That was Reno," he said. "Have you finished signing the papers?"

"Sounds like he's not too happy about his vacation, sir," Elena said with a half smile as she flipped one of the last pages over—something about how the R&D department did not have the right to experiment on Turks operatives without consent from the head of the department and directorial or above authorization.

So that was nice, Elena got the sense that was a better deal than some of the rest of the company had. She flipped to the last page. "Just about. On the last page now." 

"Good," he nodded. "Reno isn't happy. He's the one you'll be filling in for. It wasn't easy to get him to take a medical leave. I expect you to be more willing to listen to reason when necessary."

Elena felt her face flush as she signed the last page, her smile a little lopsided as she nodded. "I won't letcha down, Tseng. You ask me to take a vacation, I'll take a vacation—though I'll admit I'll probably get just as bored and restless as Reno seems to be."

She looked up with a wink. "I've had enough of the boring civvie lifestyle." 

A smirk played at the edge of his mouth as he gathered up her papers. He took them to the side of the room and fed them into a large scanner machine. "I can't promise we won't make you waitress– but it shouldn't be very often."

Elena crossed her arms with a huff. "Waitressing for—what, you guys at company parties? Or undercover work. Because I'll tell you this, I'm real good at undercover shit. I'm subtle."

Her sister would lie and say she wasn't—that she was a loudmouth and a klutz. But Elena was gonna show her and everyone else that she was exactly the agent the Turks needed. 

"I was suggesting undercover work," Tseng replied smoothly. "Though I'm sure Reno would tell you you'd be a hit at parties. In any case, welcome to the department."

He had come back toward her and now offered her his black gloved hand.

Elena grabbed his hand firmly with both of hers, and shook it with a widening of her smile. "Sir, I'm NOT gonna letcha down. You made a good decision hiring me."

Maybe now that she was a Turk, she'd finally have the direction her time in Wall Market felt like it was lacking. 

Maybe now that she was a Turk she could prove herself to everyone, her father, her sister, herself—and maybe now that she was a Turk she could figure out exactly what happened to her sister, who'd gone completely radio silent.

This was her big chance to make sure nobody ever forgot Elena of the Turks. "I'll kick any ass you ask me to, covert any op, clear every mission!" 

"We could use your enthusiasm," Tseng nodded, squeezing her hand before he let go of it. "It's been a hard few months for the Turks. And I suspect it'll continue to be.'

"Not a lotta news on the outside, but I could kinda tell," she admitted with a nod of her head. "...less Turks were around after that whole incident with Avalanche, in the bars and in the news. You think things are gonna get worse, sir?" 

"It's a safer bet than assuming things are going to get better," he drawled. He crossed his arms, "As for that incident, yes, it was a political disaster for our department. I'm sure you know that your sister was reported dead– and you know that it's untrue."

Elena face screwed up in distaste. 

"Yeah. I was visiting my old man when the letter came in—I'd seen it on the news, too. But there's no way little miss perfect died that easy."

There was no way she'd just vanish like that, an aside story on the evening news one night. She wouldn't leave her behind that easy. "I know she's alive, somewhere." 

Tseng nodded. "All of the individuals involved with the incident, aside from myself, Reno, and Rude, are dead officially, and unofficially they've been living in exile. Dispersed."

Elena pushed her hand through her hair with a sharp hiss. "Exiled and dispersed huh? All to—to preserve the Shinra image in the face of that whole mess. So they didn't have to die."

Which meant her sister was somewhere out there, with all the rest of the Turks who'd saved her life. 

"Indeed. The three of us who remained were ready to die for such an outcome. Rufus, thankfully, made certain that wasn't necessary." Tseng straightened his tie, and it was clear to Elena that Tseng, along with Reno and Rude probably, had put themselves in harm's way to make sure the other Turks got clear of the situation.

Her heart skipped a beat. That was the dedication to their comrades these guys had. It was impressive—just like the time they'd all put themselves in harm's way for her. She nodded firmly. 

"Thankfully not, sir. But…" She put her hand on her hip. "You've got me on board now. Rufus saved you guys—maybe he can fix that whole mess now that he's president, right? And you've got the world's best rookie on your side to give it her all to makin' things right!" 

"The world's best rookie." Tseng almost smiled. "I like your confidence. You're not even wrong– you're the only candidate we consider bringing on. Don't disappoint me."

Elena snapped a salute with a broad grin "I wont letcha down, boss. I promise."

A swell of pride ran through her—the only candidate they considered. She'd been training since she was a kid—even with the brief attempt at distancing herself with a normal life—she knew she could do this.

Just as well as Emma could. Maybe even better.

Absolutely better. She had to—if she was going to impress Tseng.

"Give me a nice gun, and your enemies won't know what hit 'em." 

[afi-writes]

Her Gaze All-Seeing

AerTi

Teen and up

Summary: Avalanche has arrived at Costa Del Sol and Johnny’s Seaside Inn. While Cloud and Barret enjoy the city, Tifa decides to use the opportunity and the privacy of her own room for having a shower. Yet, she gets a visitor.

⚠️ An AU scene of Final Fantasy VII: Rebirth. Contains slight spoilers of the game. ⚠️

Sweat drips down my back and my hair sticks to my neck. It’s not any cooler in this inn room than it was outside. The only difference is that the sun is not scorching my skin now. Light peeks through the wallboards and the scent of fruity flowers wafts in the air mixing with something that makes me think of mold. I want to believe that is just my imagination.

Either way, I shouldn’t complain, for Johnny is letting us stay here for free. A room and privacy are more than I could have asked for after everything. And the Seaside Inn is so secluded that anyone from Shinra probably won’t wander here.

We are safe.

For now.

And that’s enough.

Inhaling deeply, I gather my hair and whirl it into a messy bun. My nape protests but my backside is happy for the breeze that sneaks in from a crack in the wall and caresses it. I’d kill for a shower…

But maybe I could have one. The stall in the corner doesn’t look too convincing but perhaps it can offer at least a tiny relief from the heat.

Stepping closer to the shower, I can’t help but think how much I secretly enjoy this peace and quiet of having my own room. This almost feels like a beach holiday. The one we can’t truly afford but are having anyway because we’re living our lives like each day could be the last.

Any of them could be the last one.

So better enjoy what I have now.

Tilting my head, I smile. So, a long show–

A knock on the door. I turn around and hurry to open it. I was probably too slow, and now, something has come up. Free time is over.

“Aerith?” I blink and step aside, letting the woman in. Her dress dangles around her calves as she strolls into my room.

“Everyone else left for the city.”

I nod. This is no news.

“Red too?” I confirm since I’m pretty sure I saw him near Aerith’s door when I slipped into my private quarters for the rest of the day.

“Well, not him. He is relaxing in the shadows under my balcony.”

“I see.” Closing the door, I peek at Aerith who is roaming around the room, checking out the walls as if they were interesting. “So, what brings you here?”

“It is hot outside.” Aerith spins on her heels, locking her emerald gaze into mine. She inches closer, leaning forward so my gaze directly falls on her pink dress. Her skin is beaded with a thin layer of sweat and I can distinguish the white lace peeking from her neckline. “Isn’t it?”

My heart jumps but I manage a nod. “That’s right. I was just about to take a cold shower.” Perhaps she will get my hint.

A giggle sails out Aerith’s mouth as she shakes off her red jacket and lets it fall on the floor. Her boots follow with thumps. White socks are damp around her toes and one of the heels looks like it’s about to fall apart.

Aerith is so perfect even in her sweaty, nearly broken socks. Swallowing, I watch as she lifts her feet one by one, tugging off the pieces of clothing.

“Aerith?”

A smile that could melt the earth. “Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“My shower…”

“Yes?”

“It isn’t working.” Aerith slithers out of her dress that piles around her ankles. I probably should turn my gaze to the wall or the window, but I can’t help myself. The white lace of her bra compliments the curves of her breasts.

Sighing, I shake my head. That bra manages to be both innocent and seductive at the same time. I can’t imagine wearing something similar but I’m not immune to the appeal.

"I'm stiff from all the traveling. Can you help?" Aerith gazes directly into my eyes again.

“With…?”

“The hooks.” She turns her back and collects her braid over her shoulder. I guess, she is really going to use my shower and I can’t do anything but wait for a little longer.

“Oh… yes, of course.” Wiping my hands to my skirt, I close the little distance there still is between us.

The left strap of Aerith’s bra has dug into her skin, leaving a red abrasion. I want to trace it with my fingertips, and my hand flinches as I force it to wander lower and sneak my fingers under the elastic back of the bra. The upper hook is twisted and refuses to open immediately. My digits slip as I press the pieces against each other and slide the hook out of place.

Aerith’s hair smells of flowers. The scent is stuck with her no matter what we go through. I inhale and allow her fragrance to fill me. The yellow lilies. The same aroma that greeted me, when Cloud came back from his first mission with Avalanche. When he gave me that flower…

That feels like ages ago. A lot has changed since. And now, this scent of safety wafts from Aerith.

Blinking, I let go of Aerith’s bra.

“Thank you.” A mere whisper.

I’m about to back down when Aerith wheels around so quickly that she almost crashes with me. Swallowing, I watch as her bra slides on the floor, to the same pile with her dress and jacket. Her floral fragrance won’t leave me alone.

Perhaps… perhaps… it was always her. The first lily too.

I probably should think about the one who brought the flower to me, but Aerith’s sparkling gaze has captured me. Her panties are the same white lace as her bra. It’s easy to notice the hint of brown hair through them.

It’s not like me to watch women like this. But there is something special in Aerith. In the way she carries herself, how her hips sway as she shifts her weight from one leg to the other, and how her breasts stay perky even with the support of the bra, pinkish nipples slightly erect even though the weather is sweltering.

Beautiful. Aerith is beautiful.

A delicate flower.

“Weren’t you going to take a shower?” Aerith tilts her head and starts to undo her braid.

“Eh? But…”

“Get undressed. We can’t know for how long yours will last, and I bet you are in the need of cold water as much as I am.”

I shift in place. Should I or should I not? There is nothing strange about that. Sharing a shower with a friend in this kind of situation.

While I still ponder, Aerith releases her hair, and her caramel curls caress her body while she lays a see-through orb on my bed. It’s almost like a materia shell but empty from any kind of magic. Peculiar. I have never seen such a thing before.

As I remain staring at the orb, Aerith grabs my arm and yanks me closer by surprise, making me stagger. She doesn’t mind, and in the instant, I’m steadily on my feet again, her fingers find the hem of my top and tug it upwards. They are warm as they casually brush my skin… like this was something we always do.

But something like this has only happened in fuming dreams.

And as in those dreams… I lift my arms, letting her lug the top away.

“The skirt too.” Aerith smiles even though her tone is surprisingly commanding and leaves no room for argument. I put my hands behind my back and unzip my skirt. A heavy leather piece of clothing falls to my ankles. I step out of it and pull the combat boots from my feet.

Before I have time to straighten up, Aerith hauls the band of my sports bra from behind and starts to pull it up. Without further thought, I help from the front and realize too late that everything is now on the view.

As if hearing my mind, Aerith spins me around.

She’s like the sun. Burning me as her gaze traces my body, stopping on the scar just below my breasts. She lifts a finger and slides it along the mark on my skin. “Was this when…?”

Almost heaving, I avert my gaze. “Nibelheim. Sephiroth.”

A hiss. Hands cup my cheek, raising my face. Something flickers behind the emerald as it locks into my eyes. “A lot was lost, but you survived.”

I feel my lips parting, yet not a sound comes out.

“You are beautiful. Don’t even try to think otherwise.”

Can Aerith truly read minds?

“I…”

“Shhh…” She presses her fingertip on my lips. Almost like a kiss. Yet not even close.

Finally, I nod, and she tosses my bra away.

“Almost there~” A giggle bounces through the room as Aerith crouches before me and starts to tug my thigh-high socks down. Her face hovers in front of my panties. How strongly must I smell right now? After that sweaty walk from the port all the way to Johnny’s inn?

Aerith’s fingers run along my thighs together with my socks. I pant as my pulse begins to thrum in my ears. It has been forever since another person has touched me like this.

So tenderly.

Probably, I have never been caressed so softly.

It’s most likely wrong to feel this way. Yet, everything is right in this moment. Aerith pulls down my socks and snatches my panties which she slides down awkwardly slowly as if we weren’t simply getting undressed for the shower.

As my panties land on the pile of clothes, Aerith straightens up and beams. She yanks her lace briefs off in one smooth motion while a light laughter bubbles out of her. “Done! And then into the shower, we go~”

When I don’t move, Aerith reaches to me, taking my hand into hers and entwining our fingers. “Come on!”

The gentle pull is enough. My feet move on their own.

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