#hojo family

[rosy-crow]

*wakes up in a cold sweat*

STOP!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS FAMILY!!

[playtheshadw]

Thinking a little more about this scene. I think that Fubuki hasn’t really properly been recognized or appreciated by anyone (considering his relationship w/ his father was bad enough to resort to murder) so Tokiyuki’s praise must have meant so, so much. The thing with Tokiyuki is that he’s so honest & kind despite the era. His words always hold so much weight, both due to his status and personality.

Fubuki being moved to tears is SO! For someone who’s always hiding their emotions, hiding something, to be so moved…

His body language contradicts what he’s saying, he’s clutching his heart and ohh for Tokiyuki’s kindness to be directed to him. Fubuki was finally the person being chosen.

Tokiyuki offered Fubuki warmth to quell his hunger, and Fubuki wants to help him the best he can in exchange. Their friendship is so special to me

[sailing-ever-west]

the comfort of monsters.

[accala]

Thinking about how President Shinra made Rufus' birthday as his passkey and Hojo making a fan club for Sephiroth when he was a toddler

[sephirthoughts]

Vincent's New Kid Just Dropped CH 13: Deepground Flashback and Present Day, Sephiroth and Cid get a little screentime

prev. chap

RATING: this is a pretty teen-and-up chapter

WARNINGS: disgustingly fluffy family stuff, gratuitous reading of Loveless, Genesis being the world's best onii-chan, referenced torture, phantom pain, PTSD, Vincent being an old man, canon-typical Sephiroth sadness

HE'S JUST A LITTLE GUY

brothers 🖤♥️🤍

also keep this outfit in mind

“Self-care is an essential life skill,” Genesis was saying, as he sat at the table, in Weiss and Nero’s room, gently pushing back Rosso’s cuticles, with a tool from the manicure kit he’d produced from a coat pocket. “We don’t groom and dress for others, but for ourselves. Even if you’re not going out, on a given day, you should take a little time to make yourself feel beautiful.” 

“I am not going out any day,” Rosso said disconsolately. “And I don’t care about feeling beautiful, I just want to kill things.”

“Well, live your truth, darling, but self-confidence is an essential battlefield tool. Good grooming habits are a foundational element of self-confidence. Even on the front lines, I always kept my manicure kit with me.”

Rosso appeared skeptical. “You really did?”

“Mn,” he nodded, as he smoothed the rough edges of her fingernails with the crystal emery board. “I consider it a necessary item for survival.”

“A necessary item for survival…” she repeated, gazing dazedly at her newly manicured hands.

When Genesis was satisfied that the girl’s nails were as good as they were going to get, he stowed the tools and zipped up the little case, which had obviously been custom made for him, with an ornate apple tree embossed in the red leather.

“You know what? I want you to have this,” he said, holding it out to Rosso. “You can use it to establish your own pre-slaughter self-care regimen.”

Rosso’s eyes went wide, and she glanced over at Nero and Weiss, who were paying no attention whatsoever. “Me? I can’t…I can’t take such a nice thing, from you.”

“Nonsense, I have a hundred manicure kits. I insist,” Genesis countered, pushing it firmly into her hands. Seeing that she was still hesitant, he added, in a softer tone, “Every girl deserves to have pretty things, little sister.”

That master stroke thoroughly conquered Rosso, who had never been spoken to so kindly, before, let alone received a gift from anyone. She accepted it without further protest, blushing nearly as red as the manicure kit, in her flustered state. “Thank you, b—brother.”

“Don’t mention it. Now then, I think it’s high time we…ahem.” Genesis planted his hands on his hips. “Little brothers? I do admire your unquenchable passion, but if you could remove your tongues from each other’s mouths for long enough to have a conversation, I’d be much obliged.”

“We can talk without our mouths,” Nero informed him, through the darkness link.

“But our sister can’t,” Genesis said aloud. “It is rude to exclude her.”

“They are watching. And listening,” Weiss replied.

“Are they indeed.”

Genesis stepped to the center of the room and scanned the area, quickly spotting the concealed cameras and listening devices, in addition to the openly visible ones. Then he wheeled about, smiled directly into the primary camera, in the ceiling above the door, and raised his middle finger, before he tossed out a sparking and snapping thundara burst. 

Rosso gasped and the two boys gave a jolt of surprise, as it struck the camera dead-on, and went crackling along precise and specific paths through the metal walls, instantly frying all the surveillance equipment, while leaving the lights and other systems intact.

“I do dislike being spied upon,” he sneered, dusting off his hands. “Now, tell me why the hell I can hear you two in my head. And why I get such a strong feeling, as if…I don’t know. As if we’re all actually blood related.”

“We don’t know, either,” Nero answered truthfully. “Weiss and me are half brothers, by our mother. We can talk to you in our heads because the darkness thinks we’re connected to you by blood. Rosso, too, but not as much as you. That’s why I can’t use it to talk to her, without hurting her. But it hasn’t ever thought anyone else is connected. Only us four.”

“Hm. You wouldn’t, by any chance, happen to have a parent from Banora, would you?” Genesis put forth.

Weiss shrugged. “Maybe. Our mother was a scientist here, but we don’t know anything else about her. She could have been from there.”

“I don’t know anything about my parents,” Rosso said, in answer to Genesis’ questioning look. “I only know I was born in Deepground.” 

“You were all born here, then. That makes sense for the three of you, but how do I fit into this little chain,” he mused, tapping his chin with a perfectly manicured finger. Then he shook his head, with a sigh. “Well, speculating isn’t solving anything. I shall have to do some digging around, on my own. I have a sneaking suspicion that behind this thread there will be a much bigger knot, to untangle.”

Weiss studied the young man surreptitiously, as he arched his back in a stretch, then carded his fingers absently through his auburn hair. 

His red coat and leather waist armor hung on the hook by the door, and he’d removed his gloves, before working on Rosso’s fingernails. Now, in only his sleeveless SOLDIER uniform top and trousers, it was suddenly apparent how very hard and muscular his body really was. 

His long, streamlined trench coat, with its black, scarab-wing epaulets, had a minimizing and slenderizing visual effect, on his tall frame. It was the opposite effect to Sephiroth’s huge, white pauldrons and exposed chest, which made his lean and agile frame appear bulkier and more imposing than it was. Sephiroth was almost half a foot taller than Genesis, and somewhat broader in the chest, but the two were actually fairly comparable, in terms of muscle mass.

If Genesis and Sephiroth were built like swordsmen, however, Weiss was built like a heavyweight boxer. He needed no creative costuming whatsoever, to make his body appear more tank-like. The researchers liked to say that all the boy had to do to gain muscle mass was eat and breathe, which was fairly close to the truth. 

“So, you want to fight Sephiroth,” Genesis said, sensing that he was being sized up. “How very amusing that will be. If he doesn’t just kill you, I mean.”

Wiess gave a snort. “Unlikely.”

An auburn eyebrow arched. “So confident. But take care it isn’t baseless arrogance. Remember, we trained together. I have sparred with him, on many occasions. Not to compliment him unduly, but I will tell you now, he is the strongest opponent I’ve ever faced. There is no way to describe him but…monstrous.”

“He is a monster because he is impure,” Weiss said, unconcernedly. “I am not. The corrupted can never triumph over the immaculate.”

Genesis squinted doubtfully. “Purity is a rather esoteric principle. I do hope that’s not all you’re basing your self-assurance on.”

“One way or another, I intend to defeat him. Is that a problem?”

“Please,” Genesis scoffed. “I would like nothing more than to see Sephiroth taken down a peg or two. His ascendancy has gone on quite long enough. But, you’ll have to forgive me for doubting your ability to do that. You may be naturally gifted, but he has years of experience in real, life and death combat.”

Weiss only smiled. “You doubt me because you’ve never fought me.”

“True enough. I suppose all will be revealed when I test you, tomorrow.”

“My brother is the strongest, you’ll see,” Nero put in, proudly, which made Genesis smile and ruffle his black hair.

Rosso said nothing, but quietly hoped Weiss was not making a serious miscalculation. She still wished he wouldn’t do this mad thing, but he was the leader and he’d made his decision. She had no choice but to trust him, and hope for the best. 

All that afternoon, no one came to see about the damaged surveillance equipment, and when the handlers delivered evening meals, they didn’t mention anything about it. Genesis imagined that Hojo was probably fuming, but he seemed to have an understanding with Weiss, and there was no way he was going to risk a full-scale disaster, at this point, by interfering with a bunch of teenaged weapons of mass-destruction, at their slumber party. 

Much later that evening, Rosso had gone back to her own quarters, leaving the other three to themselves. Genesis was seated on the bed, reading aloud to Nero, whose ink-black head was nestled in his lap, and to Weiss, who was snuggled up to him on the other side, with his snow-white head resting on his shoulder, gazing curiously at the first ink and paper book he’d ever seen in person. 

“There is no hate, only joy. For you are beloved by the goddess. Hero of the dawn, healer of worlds. Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul. Pride is lost. Wings stripped away, the end is nigh.”

“This isn’t a very nice story,” Nero grumbled, from his lap, rolling his shoulders with their bare brackets, since his metal wings were hanging on a rack on the wall.

“Not every part of a story can be nice, little one,” Genesis explained. “They’re a bit like life. If there’s nothing sad or bitter in them, how can we fully appreciate the sweet parts?” 

“Hmph,” was all Nero said in response.  

Genesis chuckled and petted his head, then returned to reading. 

Despite Nero’s initial grouchy declaration, both boys eternally endeared themselves to the famous SOLDIER, that evening, by listening attentively, through the entirety of the meandering and abstruse narrative, all the way to the end. Even Sephiroth had only done so once, in all their long acquaintance, and he’d fallen asleep halfway through.

“My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey; in my own salvation, and your eternal slumber. Legend shall speak of the sacrifice at world’s end. The wind sails over the water’s surface, quietly, but surely.”

As he wrapped up his reading, Genesis heard a sniffle and looked up from the book. He was astonished to find Weiss wiping away tears, from his silver-blue eyes. 

Weiss saw that his unwonted display of emotion had been noticed and scowled sullenly. “The end is too sad. I don’t like it.”

“But it hasn’t ended, yet,” Genesis pointed out. “How do you know it’ll be sad?”

“What do you mean? There’s no more written, after that. The pages are blank.”

“That is one of the most intriguing things about this work. It was either left unfinished by the original author, or that part of the text hasn’t been discovered yet. Who can say what the ending will be?”

“It doesn’t matter if we don’t have it written out. I know it’ll be sad,” Weiss maintained. “The end will be about sacrifice. That’s the theme, the whole way through. Even if the world is saved, someone will have to die saving it.”

Genesis tilted his head. “And that makes you sad?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Weiss paused, struggling to clearly frame his ideas. “Because…only someone who deserves to live would give up their life for the world’s sake. Tragedy is inherent in the very act of heroism. It makes me sad that someone so strong and brave has to die, to save all the weak, undeserving people, who will never know, and never appreciate it.”

“Hm. You are very astute,” Genesis remarked. “It takes most people much longer to decipher the themes in this work. But, might it not be the case, that true heroism lies in self-sacrifice, for its own sake, without expectation of recognition or reward?”

“Maybe, but that only happens in fantasy. I would never sacrifice myself or my brother, for the world’s sake. Even if we didn’t deserve life, I’d take it for us, with my own hands, and destroy anyone and anything that stood in the way.”

Genesis smiled archly. “I think, little brother, that would make you a villain.”

“I’ll be the best villain, then,” Wiess declared staunchly. “Being a hero sounds stupid, anyway.”

By way of reply, Gensis laughed aloud and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.

It was the first time anyone but Nero had dared to so boldly assail his person. Weiss was startled by the gesture, but found that he didn’t exactly dislike it. No, in fact, he rather liked it.

He nuzzled his head back into the crook of Genesis’ neck, to conceal the color that had risen in his cheeks, and mentally added him to the list of people who were allowed to touch him in a familiar way. It was now up to a grand total of two.

Nero, meanwhile, not wanting to be left out, sat up and presented his face for a kiss, too, which was duly granted. Neither of the boys had any way of knowing that this was the most affectionate Genesis Rhapsodos had ever been, with anyone. Including his own parents.

That night, the three newfound brothers talked and debated and laughed, well into the small hours, and eventually fell asleep together, in the narrow bed. Three heads lined up on the pillows, white, black, and red, with little Nero in the middle, safely enclosed in the arms of Weiss and Genesis.

Some time in the early morning, Sephiroth appeared silently, to check in on Nero. There he still stood, as the indigo sky lightened with the approaching dawn, gazing down at something, with a strange expression in his catlike eyes.

On the bed, his little half-brother was sleeping peacefully, in the arms of their father, who was also fast asleep. Two pale, beautiful faces, in repose, so like to his own and yet so unlike. 

Sephiroth had never dared to touch his biological father. Never dared to reach out, to ask for anything, to make even the slightest nuisance of himself, for fear of shattering the uneasy peace, in which he was somehow allowed to remain here, with his infant sister. 

But his brother, who had done nothing but kick and curse, and make his detestation of the whole household loudly known…he was embraced. Held. Soothed and comforted. Nero was treated like Vincent’s son, while Sephiroth was little more than a lonely specter, haunting this happy home. 

They were wary of him, he knew, and viewed all his actions through a lens of suspicion, because of what he’d done. It would be useless to explain that he had been out of his mind, possessed by that creature, and deceived into committing atrocities. The atrocities remained committed. Innocent people were still dead. Exculpating his own guilt would help no one and repair nothing. 

Ironic, that they should fear him, having no idea that the most dangerous man on the planet spent every moment paralyzed with fear, of being cast out from among the only family he’d ever had. Of being cut off from humanity, left to drift through existence, alone and untethered. To become a real ghost, and eventually to fade away.

His entire body and soul ached with longing to be embraced by his father as well, but that was foolishness. He needed no such coddling, he reminded himself. He was a grown man and Nero was a child. Younger than Cloud, by several years.

His cold, flickering body warmed and became more tangible, at the thought of his fiery-tempered and sharp-tongued darling. The only one who had held on, through the madness, and refused to let go of the man.

Cloud was all he needed. Cloud’s love was more than enough to keep him alive. He didn’t need his father’s love, as well. That would just be childish greediness. Tacit acceptance of his presence was all he could hope for. It was far more than he deserved.

Like a little alarm clock, always set to the same time, he sensed Ollie begin to stir, and knew that it was six-fifteen on the dot. With one more lingering glance at his sleeping father and brother, he vanished into purple-black vapor, to retrieve the warmed bottle from the kitchen, and begin his daily tasks. Quietly attending to the things that would otherwise lie neglected, in a house full of men.

“Yeah, I seen ‘em, plenty of times. Usually they’re bein’ used to couple old tech to new tech, where there ain’t compatible connectors.”

It was a little past noon, and Vincent had come to find Cid, in his workshop, out back.

“Newer OS uses a emulator program to talk to the old tech and make it all synch up.” Cid ran a hand back through his hair, giving a shudder as he recalled the metal brackets in Nero’s back, surrounded by deep, ugly scars. “I guess hookin’ up a human body to a machine is pretty close to the same principle, but…god damn. You’d have to be a sick fuckin’ bastard to do that shit to a kid.”

“Can you do anything?” Vincent asked. 

“Don’t know. Maybe. There any way to find his wings?”

Vincent shook his head. “They were obliterated with everything else. I wish I’d known this would be an issue. I’d have been more careful not to leave them behind.”

“Only other way would be to get into Deepground’s system and look for files or anything that might have info on the design.” 

“We should contact Reeve, then. He downloaded Deepground’s entire database, wanting to study its AI program. If there is anything about the prosthesis, he’ll have it.”

“Oh great, he’s studyin’ the fuckin’ AI. Just what the world needs more of,” Cid grumbled, as he lit a cigarette. 

Vincent tilted his head to one side. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just…I don’t get how ya can be so calm about this, Vince,” Cid answered, blowing out a plume of blue-white smoke. “That’s your kid in there, out of his mind and in constant pain, ‘cause of some monstrous shit Shinra did to his body, without—” He broke off and looked away, clearing his throat. “Sorry. Sometimes I…I let myself forget they did that same shit to you. If I didn’t, I’d be angry all the goddamn time.”

“You are angry all the time,” Vincent said affectionately. 

“But like, even more angry all the time.”

“Thank you for worrying about Nero. I know he hasn’t been easy to deal with.”

“He’s your son, baby. You’re my husband, so that makes him my family, too. That’s the deal. That’s what marriage is.”

Vincent only answered with a stiff nod, but Cid was well aware that in Vincent-language, that meant he was suppressing some strong emotion, that he was unable or unwilling to express, at that moment. That worked out fine for Cid, because it usually meant he’d express it later, in private, which was bound to be a lot more fun.

Unable to help himself, he hooked an arm around his husband’s narrow waist and pulled him closer. Vincent’s long hair hung loose and free, half over his face, and he had his red headband on, like usual, but he’d started wearing more ‘normal’ clothing at home, which today took the form of a red v-neck, haphazardly embellished with a number of inexplicable and completely unnecessary zippers, and with a long, frayed and torn hem (all of which made it look suspiciously like his cloak). 

His clothing items almost always featured similar signs of damage, despite the fact that he’d created them himself, in the moment, and it was literally impossible for them to have collected wear and tear. Same with his faded, black jeans, which were slashed all over like they’d been in a knife fight. He looked a hell of a lot like one of those guys on the rock’n’roll posters, in the 80s, come to think of it.

“Hey babe, y’ever listen to Guns N’ Roses?”

“No. I assume it’s a musical group?” Vincent ventured. “Rock’n’roll, from the sound of it?” 

Cid snorted with laughter. “Fuck…you’re such an old man. They’re only one of the most famous bands of all time. Hottest shit goin’ in the 80s and 90s.”

“I spent the 80s and 90s sleeping in a coffin, under Shinra Manor.”

“Ain’t no excuse for cultural illiteracy, Vinnie. Specially since ya look just like one of them rock’n’roll dudes.”

“No, they look like me,” Vincent scowled. “I’ve looked like this for thirty years.”

“Mm, true. Who knows, maybe Axl Rose wandered into the basement and saw ya sleepin’, and it inspired the fashion of a whole generation.”

“Hmph. Axl Rose is an absurd stage name.” 

“That’s his real name, sugar dumplin’.” Cid searched up a picture of the band on his phone and held it up for Vincent to look at. 

“Oh. That does look rather like me,” Vincent admitted. “Does he also wear his headband to conceal a scar?”

“Maybe. I never seen him without one.”

“Cid…why did you say the person who attached Nero’s wings would have to be a sick bastard? I understand it’s gruesome, but we’ve seen many such things. You seem especially upset by it.”

Cid hesitated. “It’s cause…in order for the nerves to be spliced in right, they’d have to do it without anesthetic, and keep him awake, the whole time.” 

Vincent’s black brows drew together. “Oh. I see.”

“I’ve seen a lotta shit, but never anything that fucked up. Fact the kid lived through it is…I can’t decide if it was a miracle or a cruel joke.” 

“It was Chaos. His regenerative factor comes from the darkness. I wouldn’t call it regeneration, so much as indestructibility. More like my body, than a SOLDIER’s. But he does feel pain, normally. If he is like me, he does.”

The mood was growing heavy, so Cid changed tracks, to lighten things up. “Since we’re on the topic, you think you got a lot more kids lurkin’ around, out there?”

“There’s no way to tell,” Vincent said, shaking his head. “My DNA was taken and used without my knowledge. But, knowing Hojo, I somehow doubt Sephiroth and Nero were the only ones. He liked to have backups. The question is, whether any others survived.”

“If so, we’re gonna need more space. And, even if Seph and Nero are the only ones, Ollie’s gonna grow outta that nursery pretty quick. So, I was thinkin’…maybe it’s time we started fixin’ up the old Valentine property.”

“You hate that place,” Vincent objected. “You called it a creepy Dracula castle and said even ghosts would be afraid to haunt it.”

“I stand by that. Didn’t see any ghosts, there, did ya? Point proved.”

“I don’t think that’s logically sound.”

“The point is, ain’t no sense in just lettin’ it sit there gettin’ dustier and creepier. ‘Sides, it’s your family’s home, ya know? Wouldn’t it be nice to have it all cleaned up? Just in case?”

Vincent very nearly smiled. “Of course. Just in case.”

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY

yeah i put the stray dog outfit in there WHAT OF IT

next. chapter

[dark-elf-writes]

Hojo half-sibling au but cloud already been fucking gen before seph know he have a brother. Just for the lol.

It all started so simply — which, looking back at it, should have been Cloud’s first and largest red flag. Nothing in his life was ever anything other than complicated. He was “that Strife boy”, Nibelheim’s town bastard, almost an entire town’s dirty little secret.

(Not his mom’s though. Never his mom’s. She would always press a kiss to his crown of spikes that was so much like her own and tell him that he was her wonder. A gift from the gods themselves.)

But it all started so simply…

It started with a mandatory paternity test as a part of joining the SOLDIER program.

Getting to SOLDIER hadn’t been so simple. That had begun with an unlikely friendship between Zack Fair and some poor trooper with unfortunate amounts of motion sickness. Zack, upon hearing about Cloud’s dream to be in the program and his numerous failures at doing so, had thrown himself into helping Cloud train for the next exam.

“That’s what friends do, spikey!”

Hand to hand, sword work, physical conditioning, even materia… or, well, Zack had tried to teach Cloud Materia to… some success which had in turn led to the second complication.

Genesis had stumbled upon their training one day just in time to see Cloud blast Zack back with a spell that shouldn’t be able to do that yet again and had all but claimed Cloud as his own.

“Artificial materia has a different concentration of mako, dearest,” He had said, running the back of gloved fingers over Cloud’s cheek. “And your exposure to mako from living in a place so dense with it has changed you too. Try this instead.” He had slotted a new orb of materia, naturally formed and from his own collection no less, into Cloud’s borrowed bracer like he was sealing a wedding vow.

(And knowing Genesis as well as he did now, that was probably not far off the mark. The dramatic bastard had claimed to have fallen in love from the moment he first saw Cloud “knock the puppy on his ass even with those terribly mis matched materia”, and Genesis Rhapsodos was nothing if not determined when it came to getting what he wanted.

Still, Cloud couldn’t deny that it was nice to be wanted for once… just like he couldn’t deny that Genesis was a skilled teacher both on the mats and in his bedroom where he had Cloud seeing the goddess herself when he did that thing with his fingers.)

But a paternity test made sense, in a way. Cloud had said he never knew his father, and since he was now officially a SOLDIER third, he would start getting attention. Considering how much he looked like his mother, it wouldn’t be a leap to assume people might start coming out of the woodwork to make claims, and such a scandal would look bad for Shinra in the long run. It… probably also didn’t help that Cloud looked enough like Rufus and Lazard that rumors had already begun to spread of another Shirna bastard.

But the results had not been the simple answer.

Nor had they been the slightly more complicated one that, while annoying, would have made a strange sort of sense considering how he looked and proximity to the Shinra manor.

No, Cloud’s results were so complicated that the poor tech that had been running the tests had so so three times to be sure.

And then Cloud was angry. Angry that his mother had been left alone with no money to support her. Angry he had grown up hated by an entire village because some bastard couldn’t be bothered to stick around. Angry that the truth had been under his nose the whole time and he had never seen it.

He had snatched the results from the poor tech and stomped his way to the private lab in the center of the Science Department hardly noting the flustered scientists and techs trying to stop him through the red haze in his mind. The locked door didn’t stand a chance against the mastered fire materia Genesis had gifted him for making it through his training, melting straight through the lock so Cloud could kick the door inwards.

He didn’t notice the second person in the room as he hurled the file of results at a rather unimpressed face. Didn’t care.

“Nice to meet you, dad,” Cloud all but spit between clenched teeth.

Hojo didn’t do much as blink. If anything he shrugged. “Ah. The control group.”

Cloud didn’t remember trashing the lab. Didn’t remember the too familiar face at his side that helped him do it. He did however remember the aftermath with his head in his hands and the Silver General himself awkwardly patting his back as he had a complete mental breakdown.

“It’s what brothers are supposed to do… isn’t it?” Sephiroth had said like to made all the sense in the world. Like any of this made fucking sense.

Cloud Strife had gone from no father to one that saw him as an experiment in all of twenty minutes and now his childhood idol who was actually his half brother was trying to comfort him. It was too much. He needed a drink. He needed a fucking cigarette. He needed —

“Genesis,” He murmured, all but scrambling for his PHS to send off a message. If anyone could make it all make sense it was Gen, or at least, Gen would stand beside him as he burned the world to the ground. Either way, all Cloud wanted at that moment was something that made sense.

Unfortunately, that single word had made Sephiroth recognize exactly who Cloud was other than “some new recruit” or perhaps “Zack’s friend” and his green eyes narrowed as this hands that had been awkwardly patting him tightened possessively.

“You’re the trooper that is dating Genesis.” It wasn’t a question. Sephiroth didn’t wait for an answer. “Genesis slept with my brother.”

And then Cloud Strife’s life became very complicated all at once.

[berrywinkle]

I don’t think Vincent is Sephiroth’s dad. I think it’s more tragic for him to be in love with Lucrecia but have to watch as she gives her body for science.

I love hating Hojo as much as the next guy, but it is a compelling and sad story of a man who abuses his own son to make him ‘perfect’. Abusing Sephiroth out of ‘love’ and wanting him to reach his full potential.

And the tragedy of Hojo being the man Sephiroth hates and fears most be his father is also compelling.

[xiafeiry]

4piece found family

[blondedingdong]

Living in a big city for almost 10 years now almost made me forget how beautiful the night sky can be - no light pollution and you can actually see the stars. Gosh and this lovely cool and clear air. One day I'll move back to the countryside. *hums*

[rainbowcarousels]

The background voices are absolute gold.

[lecliss]

I hate when Vincent asks Lucrecia if she's sure about proceeding with the experiment and she's all yelling "if it only concerns me then yes I'm sure!" And like BITCH IT DOES NOT JUST CONCERN YOU!!!! THATS FUCKING SEPHIROTH!!! HES GONNA HAVE A SHIT CHILDHOOD AND HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN AND TRY TO KILL EVERYONE!!!! THAT IS LIKE THE FARTHEST FROM JUST CONCERNING YOU!!!!!

[tokuteasings]

Headcanon: Emu definitely likes to hold burger parties in CR

He does!!!!! He really does!!! The thing is, because of his clumsy nature, Emu really can't be super trusted in the kitchen. He ends up cutting himself somehow...he isn't sure, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

Hiiro cuts up the burgers and items but Emu obviously organizes it. It's a rare day when everyone is free to just chat and eat and be at peace...

It's a family feeling Emu always wanted and never got...and this family is dysfunctional half of the time but...it's his family now and it's all he wants.

[asknarashikari]

ReviceCast to George and Ikki in a wardorbe malfunction.

Kagerou: That has got to be the ugliest color pattern on that Playboy bunny suit, nii-chan. And George looks like a hobo in ripped clothes trying so hard to be a male stripper. HiroDaiji: What the fuck have you two gotten in to? George: Hehehe... In Ik- Ikki: *hits George* George: Oww... Ikki: I'll explain. *cue explanition*

Later.

Hiromi: So... A normal party at Blue Bird turn disastrous as a Sentai monster change everyone's clothes to cause a wacky situation??? Ikki: Basically. Daiji: Then Why are you two still in them despite defeating it. Ikki: Forgot to go change as we had to cancel the party and the day was getting late. Hiromi: Reasonable. George: Also... I've got to see Ikki in these lewd NSFW bikinis during the disaster! *showing pictures on phone* HiroDaiji: MY EYES!!! Ikki: GEORGE!

Sakura, Hana, Hikaru and Go are preparing George's funeral pyre while Vice, Mama-san and Papa-san make sure he's dead enough to be on it. They also call the parent friends (Emu and Shinnosuke) and Takeru to participate in the funerary rites.

Ikki is given some proper pantsu by Eiji and the rest of his clothing by Ace, who probably spent an absurd amount of money on them.

Meanwhile, Lovekov comforts the traumatized Hiromi and Kagerou cackles at Daiji's plight.

[alejandrosanzfotos]

[madamechrissy]

=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- MDNI- NSFW- fun chap- heavy smut chap- oral, m and f recieving, fingering, jerking off, explicit sex, rough sex, choking etc. Reader, 26, Dr. Gojo 34- Grey's vibes ✨️

=͟͟͞♡ Word Count- this chap- 8.8k

=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!

♡ Reblogs and comments appreciated ♡

=͟͟͞♡ Part Three =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist

♡ Part Four ♡

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo.” You say with a smile, it’s Thanksgiving and here you are with your resident Doctor’s arm around you, as you hand his lovely mother flowers, in awe when they invite you in.

You’ve seen rich people but holy fuck, Satoru’s family is the type of wealth you just hear about, some decadent mansion all modern in creams and beige tones, so lovely it’s insane, spotless. The ceilings are so tall, you tilt your head back, eyeing the chandeliers and the winding staircases, several stories tall. It’s almost as if you’re transported into some royal castle.

“I know, pretentious.” Satoru huffs, making you break out of your reverie, you look up at him, in a stark dark blue dress shirt and slacks, looking like a million bucks as always.

“It’s beautiful.” You say, and his parents smile.

“Satoru is… something else.” His mother says, earning a snort for him, he clearly got the eyes from her, she’s stunning, and the hair from his father, just as tall as Gojo.

“It’s nice to see he’s having a life aside from work.” His dad says, Satoru snags you against him, you feel yourself heat up at it, hard to remember it’s a little harmless ruse when you want it to be real.

The car drive here, his hand on your thigh, as you all zipped around in his sports car was so intense, honestly you don’t have family to go to tonight either, so you truly don’t mind. Maki, Yuta and Toge all had their own things, and were throwing a friendsgiving this weekend anyway. But it’s intimidating to be sure, even though his parents seem very kind.

“Come on in, have a drink.” Mr. Gojo says to you, and you nod.

“I could use one after driving with Satoru.” Satoru sticks his tongue out, Gucci shades lowered on his nose as he glares at you.

“I drive perfectly, thank you.”

“No, too fast, scared the shit out of me.” You stick your tongue out back, earning his mother’s laugh as she puts her arm in his, and he kisses her affectionately on the top of the head.

When you walk into the beautiful kitchen you see a gorgeous dark haired woman, petite and elegant, along with who you recognize as Shoko Ieri, another doctor, but she worked in the maternity ward. So you’re not sure she’d know you, but when you walk in she smiles tiredly, rivaling Yuta for the eye bags, she brushes back dark brown hair and walks up to you.

“Hey! You’re the star intern, hmm?” You flush at the praise.

“Oh I don’t know about-”

“Why the fuck is she here? Ugh!” Satoru pouts now, crossing his arms, and the brunette crosses her arms, raising a brow.

“Because they invited me, shithead.” She says, Shoko snorts in laughter, Satoru’s father gets your attention.

“Red or white, dear?” He asks, as Satoru and the girl stomp to each other, arguing already.

“Um… white, please. Thank you!” He pours you a little glass and you sip it, tasting the tart grape on your tongue. “Delicious.”

“It’s the family vineyards.”

“You have vineyards-”

“Oh whatever Gojo, you are so stupid. You act like because you chose surgery you know so much more!” She’s shouting.

“True, he’s a pretentious ass.” Shoko pipes in.

“Yeah fuck you both, pussy doctor and mommy doctor.” He snorts, looking at you then, seeing your clear confusion. “Pipe in here, intern.”

“I think all doctors are important, and gynecology and maternity doctors literally bring in lives.” Satoru glares now, brows lowering over his glittering eyes, peeking up under those shades.

“I love her already. You’re too good for him.” The brunette says, and Satoru scoffs.

“Now, now kids. Get along, it’s a holiday.” His mother says, and Satoru stomps over to you.

“You’re supposed to have my back, brat.”

“But you’re wrong on this. Also, why so mean? Is she family?” You peek behind his tall frame at her.

“I’m Utahime, his ex wife, thank god. And this… is my wife.” Utahime snatches up Shoko, kissing her cheek, and Shoko smiles just a bit. “You know her though!”

“I do. Oh, oh…. Oh!” You let it sink in, as you look at Satoru, then her.

“Yeah the failed arranged marriage.” Satoru says, turning the glare to his parents.

“We thought they would be perfect together, we had no clue they’d hate each other so much. She burned a whole car of Gojo’s down.” Mrs. Gojo shakes her head with a sigh, Utahime snickers.

“She also bleached all my Gucci shirts. Bitch.”

“Oh you’re the bitch!”

“I can’t believe you two were married.” You say, and Utahime sighs.

“It was a miserable couple years, but it led me to her.”

“Cheated on me with her-”

“You make women run.” Shoko says, and he takes your glass, downing the wine in one gulp. “See!? Oh god speed.”

“She’s not going anywhere.” Satoru pulls you to him again, and they all study you, as he leans down, tilting your chin up, planting a kiss on your lips, you taste the sweet wine on him mixed with Satoru himself. “Right Sweets?”

“Right.” You murmur, hating how much you mean it.

“Well let’s hope so, hey if not we could have a third.” Utahime teases, and Mrs. Gojo snorts her drink almost. “Sorry Mrs. Gojo, she’s pretty though.”

“Um… thanks.” You manage, giggling. Mr. Gojo pours you a drink now, another one for Satoru. “You all seem fun.”

“Fun!? Jesus. Mom, show me like… something you knitted I don’t know. I need to get away from them.”

“Let’s go, Toru.” You think the nickname is adorable, as he gives you all a middle finger now, stomping away.

“Are you sure about him?” Shoko asks, you sigh.

“He’s great, it’s very new but I really am… enjoying this.” It’s all true, you are enjoying this, up to and including whatever juicy drama there is.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’d love him to be happy, even if he’s a shit.” Utahime comes and puts a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s help get things together.”

*****

Your back is still throbbing a bit from the spinal tap, Satoru notices. A soothing hand on your back as you all are finishing up dinner, now they are serving dessert at the elegant table. “You all right?” He murmurs.

You nod, smiling and putting a hand on his thigh, fuck everything feels so natural about this, about the doctor you don’t truly know yet, but you’re noticing every little thing. He’s clearly a Mama’s boy, he seems to adore his mom, he and his dad seem to have a good relationship but it’s clear him and his mom are extremely close, surprising you since they pushed him into a marriage.

When they started explaining it, it sounded like the families knew each other forever, two of the elite families there are, business conglomerates surely. And when Satoru and Utahime grew up, they just sort of agreed to it to please their parents, not knowing they’d despise each other. Utahime and Shoko are sickeningly cute together, and clingy.

“You sure? Wanna lay down?” He murmurs, you shake your head, Satoru’s mom smiles at you both.

“I’ve never seen you so close with someone, Toru.”

“Certainly not her.” Satoru points to Utahime who rolls her eyes.

“I’ve never seen you so close to someone either.” Shoko says, sipping on her wine and smiling at you.

“She smells good is all.” Satoru teases, making you giggle.

“Are you tired? You all should stay the night, it’s a long drive.” His dad says, you feel yourself heat up at the thought.

“We can stay, is that cool with you?” He asks, you are a little buzzed and so is Satoru, so you nod then.

“I have nothing to sleep in though!”

“I have some pajamas you can wear, don’t worry.” She looks to one of the maids then. “Can you set them up a room?”

A room with Satoru… alone?

Fuck how can you make that, you can’t even stop thinking of fucking him every time you’re in his office, every time you’re in the elevator, when the backs of your hands would touch, when his shoulder would brush against yours. When he’d shoot that sarcastic little smirk at you, when those blue eyes would get lidded just a bit if you two got too close…

It’s too much.

“That would be amazing, thank you. I did a spinal tap and I’m a little beat from it I guess.”

“Everything okay?” Shoko asks.

“Her brain is dramatic and stressy.” Satoru gets a nudge and scowl from you, he snorts, sipping on his chocolate wine, of course he had to have the sweetest concoction there was.

“My brain is indeed stressy I guess.” You roll your eyes. “Can I help you clean up Mrs. Gojo?”

“Oh no, we pay for that, don’t worry. Satoru, run her a bath, would you? She should relax after that. I’ll have her pajamas sent up.”

“I love your mom.” You whisper, he chuckles, Mrs. Gojo smiles.

“I’ll run her one. C’mon, intern.” You say your good nights, Satoru snatches up the chocolate wine bottle with a grin and you follow him up with your own glass that one of the butler’s tops off.

“Damn I could get used to this.” You tease, walking up one of the flights of steps with him, he snatches up your hand with his free one, precariously balancing his wine bottle and his glass in one arm.

“The princess life? Is that what you’ll be, a pillow princess?” Satoru shuts the door behind you, the bathroom - one of many - is breathtaking, the tub is fit for a Princess indeed. You sip your wine, running a fingertip down his chest, earning his little purr that makes you laugh.

“I like to please too, thank you very much.”

“I’m a giver, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Sure Hojo.”

“You don’t believe me!?” You sigh, leaning too close, after last week’s kiss at the bar, you’ve tried to keep a little distance, he makes it hard to focus on anything, and you’re scrubbing in on another surgery Monday, you want to make sure you have your wits about you.

“I believe you to be very giving, if memory serves.” He exhales when you step back, turning. “Could you unzip me?”

He brushes your hair back off to your shoulders, unzipping your dress slowly, revealing the smooth skin of your back to his eyes, his fingers drift down your spine, between your shoulder blades, plump lips pecking sweet kisses as the dress falls to the floor, leaving you in just lacy panties. Satoru’s fingers brush over the place he’d injected earlier.

“Does it feel okay? Hurt?” He murmurs, you shake your head, biting your lip when he drifts his fingers down your hips, goosebumps rising, your eyes flutter closed at the sensations.

“You did really well, and my head feels a million times better. Ah!” Satoru’s fingers press into your pelvis as he pulls you back against him, kissing a trail down your shoulders, your breath comes quicker and quicker, trembling from the insane desire his touch brings. “Satoru…”

“Let me see you, pretty.” You nervously turn, Satoru’s surely seen you get dressed but you have had bras on, when your breasts sway just slightly, the nipples pronounced and at attention, his blue eyes widen, the running water softly splashing behind you both, leaving a trail of steam.

“How’s the anatomy now, Doctor?” You tease, to ease your nerves, but he moans softly, dragging you against him.

“I’m sorry.” He says, you blink a bit in confusion, when he’s kissing you passionately, hands gripping the fat of your tits, hungry and messy, saliva dripping from his tongue into yours, nothing like the kisses you both have shared. It’s eager and hot, teeth biting, tongue taking you over.

“Satoru…” You whisper, his lips kissing down your neck now, he bites it so hard you gasp out from the shock, before he curses.

“The water, shit.” It’s too high now, he laughs with you, breathless, running over to drain some of it and turn the water off. He looks back at you hungrily, hands dripping with water, picking you up and sitting you on the edge of the tub, now on his knees between your thighs.

“Fuck.” Is all you manage, when he’s sucking your nipples into his mouth, one at a time, kissing around the areolas as his hands press against your ribcage. Your hands entwine in silky white locks, head falling back at how perfect it feels. “Why sorry?”

“I’m trying to tease you, not attack, but my brain is short circuiting. You’re so fucking beautiful.” His words make you choke up, when his swirling blue eyes look up under those snowy lashes, lips reddened from your kisses. Your breaths come faster, just your panties a barrier.

“You’re beautiful.” He kisses you again, over and over, when the door knocks, and you jolt. He chuckles.

“Baby we’re not teenagers it’s okay.” You feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment at that, and he grins with those big bright teeth, walking up to the door as the maid hands him pajamas and fluffy towels. “Thanks.”

She leaves, and you turn, slipping off your panties, Satoru has seen your bare ass by now, but you hear his soft sigh, peeking back to see he is flushed, adam’s apple bobbing with desire. You step in, turning back around, and he views your entire body, when you sit down and ease in the fragrant tub the bubbles surround you like a veil, but he’s already seen.

“Not playing hard to get anymore?” His voice is husky.

“I’m just enjoying my Princess treatment.” He laughs, setting down the pajamas and leaning over you, hands on either side of the tub, pecking a kiss on your forehead, you sigh at how good it feels.

“I will wait in the room. Want your wine?”

“Yes please.” He smirks and hands you the glass. “Thank you, this is so lovely really, I don’t remember the last time I felt so good.”

“Oh, sweets…” He cups your face, leaning so close, you taste him, your pussy is just clenching around nothing, remembering his fingers now. You nearly drag him in the tub, clothes and all. “I haven’t made you feel good yet.”

“No?” You raise a brow, he just shakes his head.

“No. I’ll see you in the room, enjoy some time.” You nod and he pecks another kiss, this time on your nose, making your heart falter when he walks out, the lock clicking.

You sip your wine and lean your head back, letting the hot water run over you, feeling it sapping all the soreness from your tired limbs. This week has been insane at the hospital, it seems like the holidays along with a full moon were creating all sorts of insane accidents, so this feels so good.

Satoru’s lips felt superb, the memory alone makes you run your fingers down your own breasts, brushing over a nipple. What is it with him? You don’t want to be a notch in his bedpost, you don’t wanna be part of his fanclub, to be so into the man that everyone else is, but you can’t blame any of them. Satoru is not just gorgeous and sexy, he is kind, smart, funny.

It’s hard to find a flaw.

But you want to guard your heart, especially after going through so very much with your toxic ass ex, you don’t want your heart torn apart, and Satoru Gojo is your boss, so you’d have to work with him for who knows how long. At least the year, and you want to work with him, learn from him.

There’s a million thoughts swirling in your head when you’re drying off, peering at the little fancy slip that’s been brought to you, with a note from his mother to keep it. This is basically brand new tagged lingerie, you slip it on over your skin, swiping at the steam that’s fogged on the mirror, peering at yourself before you slip on the fluffy robe over it.

You head out to the halls, you’re led to the guest room by another butler, you realize they must have several, and you step into the luxurious guest room, where Satoru has his laptop out and a pair of glasses propped on the bridge his nose, you’ve seen him wear them every now and then, fuck if they don’t look sexy.

He peers up and smiles, you shut the door behind you then, slipping off the robe, letting it fall in a pool around your ankles, his throat goes dry as he studies you ever so slowly, your beautiful body in this sexy little satin slip. He licks his lips, taking off his glasses and setting them on the table with a click, standing as he drinks in the sight of you.

“Holy fuck, my mom gave you that to wear!?” He asks, and you giggle, nodding, holding out a tag.

“Can you take this off?” Satoru comes now, taking off the slip completely. “I meant the tag!”

“Yeah, no… your skin is even softer, fuck.” Satoru’s hands slide down your arms, gaze making you melt, his eyes darkening as his pupils dilate.

“I have a five date rule, you know.” You say teasingly, he smirks, raising a thin white brow, picking you up then, completely bare against him, he’s shirtless with a pair of baggy white sweats, and you feel him.

“And what date are we on, intern?” He murmurs, pressing you against the wall, you arch your hips earning his moan, his head falls against your chest.

“Date number two at best, mmm.” He’s kissing your neck again, hitting just the right spots that make you inane, breath tickling your skin, tongue flicking against you, tasting you.

“Hmm, so what was the party then? I count it.” He whispers in your ear, you cling to his bare shoulders, head falling back against the wall.

“Then we’re at three dates. You have two more to go.” Satoru chuckles against your collarbone, biting the thin skin there, you’re soaking wet against him.

“Seems like she’s okay with breaking her rules for me.” He carries you to the bed now, you watch how his muscles flex as he’s over you, you swallow then, taking a breath and cupping his face.

“I’m scared to feel too much.” He sighs, resting his head on yours, hands slipping over every inch of your body, as if he wants to commit it all to memory.

“I’m scared at how much I feel.”

“This will be so messy, Satoru. What if we hate each other? And it ruins everything.” He shushes you gently, a finger to your lips.

“We can wait. Two more dates.” You smile tremulously, biting the lower lip to stop it from shaking.

“I’m aching though.” Satoru’s resolve slips, he slams his lips on yours, tongue messy and forceful, breaking through every last barrier you have, he slips his hands down your tummy, making it suck in at the sensation, bracing himself above you with one hand.

“Then let me take care of you, pretty patient.” You gasp out when he’s running his fingertip over your slit, and you make his abdomen tense when your hand slinks down him, under the elastic of those sweats, finding his cock. “Fuck I can’t handle that.”

“Sensitive, Doctor?” You tease, stroking him now, he groans, sinking his finger inside your little hole, making you scream out, before covering your mouth, he grins down at you.

“S’okay baby, this mansion is fucking huge. No one will hear.” You’re gasping when he so easily presses up in that spot past your slick gummy walls, your arousal drooling all down his hand, you hear it squishing in the quiet room. “F-fuck, you’re s’wet… mmm…”

Satoru’s crying out softly while you stroke him, his pretty pink tip peeking out from the sweats, you run your thumb over the slit where he’s got precum oozing. You lap it off your thumb, tasting the salty white substance, and you watch his eyes flash even darker, his lips parting.

“Fuck.” Is all he manages, kissing you again, before he’s kissing down your body, you’re barely able to catch a breath when he’s kissing between your breasts, down your tummy, his big hands spreading your thighs.

“Satoru… what’re you-ah!” His tongue flicks up your slit, you start gushing wetness out of your hole as a result, earning his smirk.

“Mmm, do you want me to make you feel so good, pretty?” He asks now, handsome face flushed, you nod, watching how his fingers press into the plush of your thighs when he spreads them more. “Then how do we ask?”

“Satoru…” He spits on your pussy now, shocking you, your ex was about as selfish as you could get, and any other men you’ve been with haven’t been freaky, more vainilla. “Did you just spit on it!?”

He grins, swirling the spit around your clit, then smacking your cunt, you gasp at the sensation, moaning as it just makes you wetter. “How do we ask?”

“Please.” Your weak little whine ends him, he tilts his head and starts lapping up all the wetness pouring from your cunt, dripping all over his mouth, his chin, burying himself against you. “Ah!”

You scream out, unable to stop the sound, clinging to silky hair, he’s got his eyes shut in concentration, but then his eyes open, meeting yours, you breathe quicker and quicker, hips rolling up for more. “That’s it, fuck my face baby.”

“Fuck your!? Face!? I-ah!” You’re grinding up quicker with his urging, he yanks your hips down, fucking you with his tongue now, swiping inside your velvety walls, nose bumping your needy clit, so you rub more and more on his face, to his satisfied moans. Satoru doesn’t even apparently need to breathe, he’s drowning in your wetness, drinking every bit of you up.

Doctor Gojo is absolutely well versed in anatomy, because you feel yourself cumming before you can even think to tell him, and your cunt is drooling all down his face when your orgasm washes over you, making your skin so sensitive, pussy pulsing around his tongue. You feel his moan, when he leans up, lavishing your neglected clit now, and you violently jerk.

“Good girl, can you cum again f’me?” You’re done for, completely fucked you realize, when he slides two fingers in your needy cunt. “Fuck look at her sucking them up so good.”

“Satoru what the fuck was that? How- oh my god!” Your words are breathy whines, head spinning when he’s curling those long fucking fingers in you, pressing on that damn spot making you see stars.

“I told you I’d make you feel good. No headaches.” He leans on an elbow, hand pressing your tummy, tongue lapping at your clit now, over and over, your thighs squeeze on his head, feeling his soft hair against you while he’s fucking you with those fingers. “Can you handle both?”

“Both- f-fuck!” Satoru sucks your clit into his mouth now, humming on it while still curling those fingers up, and you shatter, this time even more intense then the previous, you feel like you’re falling off the earth as you pull on his hair. “Too much, too much- oh my god.”

You’re soaking his entire pretty face, dripping down your sticky inner thighs and his chin, he drinks you up, licking you from your ass to your damn clit, sucking on the puffy lips of your pussy and nipping them, making you scream out again, body twitching so fucking embarrassing.

What was this man doing to you!?

“Oh my… I… you…” You feel tears pricking your eyes when he kisses and nips your clit now, the biting shocking you with the pain.

“You’re so yummy, I could do it forever.” He says, flicking that tongue in another circle, you whimper pathetically, sniffling. “Overstimulated baby?”

“Y-yes… please fuck me.” He raises his brows, leaning over you, you’re clinging to his back, nails digging in, leaving little crescent marks on his marble skin.

“What, that counts as two dates?” He teases, you can’t even function now, you’re shoving off his sweats, his cock so big it smacks his belly button.

“You’re demonic, I swear to god. What the fuck.” He’s smirking so pleased, but then he whimpers himself, cock throbbing in your hand. “Lemme suck you.”

“Shit, yeah!?” You nod, giggling, and he flips your positions, you kiss down his perfect, sculpted body, he holds your slightly damp hair back as you lap at the tip of him, precum just oozing out of the slit, earning his groan. “I’m gonna embarrass myself.”

“How so?” You take his cock in your hand, stroking him and spitting on it now, making his eyes widen, he pulls on your hair, groaning when you suck him into your mouth, inch by inch.

“Holy fuck it’s happening.” You laugh just a bit, head still reeling from the orgasms and the wine in your system, Satoru’s clearly very experienced, so to watch him falling apart and taking shaky breaths is the ultimate high. “I can’t hold back, can you take me fucking that pretty throat?”

“Mmhm.” You nod eagerly, and Satoru plants his feet flat on the bed, hips bucking up when starts fucking your mouth, his hand tight in your hair. You’re drooling on his cock, making it sloppy wet, your throat bobbing as you take him deep, burning at the stretch of him.

“Oh fuck, never felt anything s’good- I- f-fuck…” Satoru’s a blushing mess, sexy little gasps as he keeps thrusting into your throat, and you breathe through your nose, struggling to take over eight inches as best as you can. He bottoms out in your throat, your nose against the white hair on his pelvis, he’s stuttering, hips faltering. “Do you like it when I use you, baby?”

You’re soaking wet, eager for more, simply humming as your ass is in the air, thighs pressed together. He’s pulling your hair even harder, using your mouth, your throat, his cock twitching as he shoves all the way in again, moaning and leaning his head back.

“C’mere.” He whispers, pulling you off his cock, your cheeks hollow as you release the suction, and he’s bringing you to straddle his lap, your thighs on either side, coughing slightly into your hand. “Your mouth feels that good, how’s this pussy gonna feel? Gonna take me out.”

You just whine and kiss him, sliding against his cock, it glides ridiculously easy with all the spit and drool on his cock mixing with your cunt’s wetness. He’s kissing you desperately, you taste yourself, and he tastes himself, mixing so fucking messy as his tip hits your clit, and you scream out, spasming on top.

“Cumming like that, m’not even in yet.” He huffs, earning your weak little scowl and making him chuckle. “S’fucking cute.”

“In me.” You order, he grins now.

“Two more dates.”

“Don’t you dare. I know you wanna cum.”

“Your rules.” You grimace, and he’s a snarky little ass hole. “Maybe if you beg for me to break your rules.”

“You little shit. Fine.” You slide off him and he pouts, his cock twitching when you grab it in your hand again.

“You can - mm- beg me, can’t you baby?”

“Sure am not.” You keep stroking him now, and he’s yanking on your body, a whimpering little mess under you. “You can beg for me.”

“I don’t beg, I'm… Satoru… Gojo- fuck!” You keep stroking, smiling at him now, and he slips his fingers back in you, as you two both edge each other in a torturous fucking game. “You beg.”

“N-no… you.” You’re stroking his cock faster, spitting down on it, so he uses his thumb to press on your clit, and your movements falter.

“Beg for my dick inside you, for me to stretch you, fill you up.” His words along with his fingers addle your mind so much you’re swirling, blinking to focus, on who could get the other off first. “You competitive b-brat.”

“You’re a… brat… I… no, you beg.” You glare as you keep stroking him, and then he falls apart in your hand, jerking into it, pumping so much cum it’s insane, the sight of the milky ropes all over his cock makes you push over the edge, and you’re cumming on his fingers, crying out against his neck as you bury your face against it.

“Ngh…” Is all you manage, barely moving your hand now, Satoru eases his fingers out, exhaling, leaning back and smirking at you.

“You’re such a mean little brat. You wouldn’t beg so you jerked me off like some teenager!?”

“And y-you did the same.” You say weakly, damn near collapsing. Satoru shakes his head, grabbing a towel, cleaning you both up, you were coated in his cum from your hand to your wrist.

“I was sure you’d fold. Fuck… did that count as one more date?” He teases, and you giggle, when he comes next to you, pulling you against him.

“No, two more to go it seems. Maybe you’ll be more needy then.”

“Me needy- you almost caved. Bet if I edge you all day at work you will.” He whispers, kissing your throat and stroking your thighs, creating networks of goosebumps everywhere he touches.

“You don’t play fair, Doctor.” He tilts your chin up now, eyes so bright blue it’s almost difficult to handle their beauty.

“I want to know all of you.” He says then, making you choke up with his seriousness suddenly.

“You do?” He nods, stroking your hair now.

“What makes you tick, your flaws… Do you have any? Your past. I want to know every bit of this body. Where you’re ticklish, where you’re sensitive.” You blink back emotions but fail, little tears glimmering under the soft can lights of the ceiling. “I’d wait for you, however many dates.”

“Jesus why do you have to be so…” You just kiss him now, again, over and over, salty tears mixing with his sweet taste. “I’m terrified.”

“I am too. God it’s hard to work when all I can think about is you, thinking about fucking you in every position. Bent over my desk.” You can’t handle the images, as his hands grip your ass cheeks. “Eat that pretty pussy out on your breaks.”

“You’re too much, you know?”

“I know.” You try to calm down, to clear your mind, and Satoru’s already semi hard again, you blink in surprise. “Yeah, it’s never that fast.”

“You gonna beg me?”

“No brat.” You both glare then you sigh, stepping off him and slipping back on the discarded slip, holding out the tag.

“Then we call a parlay for the night, clearly neither of us is backing down yet.” Satoru laughs softly, bending down and biting the little plastic holding the tag, it falls off instantly. “What’s that trick?”

“Haven’t you noticed I’m really good with my mouth?” He murmurs, tilting your chin up, you blush when you see how his cock is just so fucking heavy, still glistening from you, so pretty it makes your ovaries ache.

 “I’ve never had it that good.” You admit, earning his satisfied smirk. “Yeah, yeah, you already know you’re that good.”

“Guess what?” He is slipping up his sweats now.

“What, Doctor Hojo?”

He cups your face, bending low at the waist. “You’re the best blow job I’ve had, whole gauntlet. Knew it.”

“Oh I doubt all that.” You eat up the praise however, and his lips kissing yours feel so perfect, it takes so much not to fuck him, god how does he fuck if that’s how he foreplays!?

“Best kisser too.”

“So are you.” He kisses you over and over, you feel your body heat right back up in response, legs wobbly you’re so wet. “Sure you don’t wanna ask for something?”

“Nope.” He snorts, and soon you’re in the bed with him as he’s clicking away at the laptop, glasses back on that perfect nose. “Fuck it’s like we’re married.”

“Ugh, marriage.” He shivers in disgust, you smile a bit, leaning on an elbow.

“Just feels domestic.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t think I’d marry again.” You pause at that, and he’s clicking away at his keyboard now.

“Never?” You ask curiously, running your fingers along the silk comforter.

“God no. I mean I absolutely would date, and have a serious relationship, but certain things I’d never do again.”

“Like the paper?”

“Yeah, the paper, but also I wouldn’t live with someone again.” You don’t know why his words hurt so fucking much, you barely know him and you two aren’t even dating, but it’s like a stab to the heart.

“Oh.” Satoru looks at you now, frowning and shutting the laptop, brushing back your hair.

“That’s a lot to unload on you, I’m fucking sorry. It’s not to say I wouldn’t have a girl like stay with me as much as she wants, I just… would want us to have our own places.”

“But like what if you have kids?”

“Kids?” He blinks at that. “I don’t know, I’ve never considered them.”

“Never?”

“No, why have you?” You shyly look away now, so lost in the passion you forgot you have no clue what he wants.

“So your idea of a serious relationship is…”

“Spending time together, enjoying each other. Talking deeply, sharing things, spending time exploring every inch of each other.” He’s drifting his fingertips across your shoulder. “I can’t marry again though, even if I had kids.”

Shit.

“Was the marriage that bad?”

“It was fucking horrible. You see how much we hate each other. And… well neither of us were faithful.” You pause now, as the words spill from his mouth.

“Oh?”

“I slept with a lot of people.” He admits hoarsely. “Me and her didn’t even… fuck we had sex a couple times the entirety of it, by some forced thing. Parents wanting us to have kids, and it was terrible. I can’t do it again.”

“But if you choose wouldn’t-”

“Baby this is all a tale for another day. We’re just getting to know each other, I don’t need to give you my autobiography yeah?” He’s clearly done with the topic.

“I wasn’t saying you had to.” You pull the blanket up now, mind whirring at him, why do you care so much, you sucked his dick and now what, you want him to wife you up? It makes no sense to be that way.

But something breaks in you at hearing how much the thought of that detests him, perhaps you are old fashioned, you love the idea of getting married, having kids, sure as a doctor it would be a bitch, but you crave a family. Not having parents or siblings can be lonely, and the idea of having your best friend as a husband and then making a little best friend sounds beautiful.

“Have I upset you?” He asks, putting the laptop aside as you shake your head. “I can be too blunt, it’s part of the job. I could’ve said-”

“No, it’s how you feel, and you’re right, we barely know each other. Um, I didn’t mean to pry or whatever.” You turn then on your side, and feel him sink in the bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you against him, emotions are in your throat and you don’t know why or how to stop them.

“I’m interested in something serious.” He says softly, you nod, unable to look at him. “That marriage fucked me up, I have my own shit I guess, but it doesn’t mean I won’t take it serious if we get there.”

“I get it, you’ve already experienced a lot I guess.” You say, looking back at his heartbreakingly beautiful face, wondering about him more and more.

“For the longest time I just married my work and fucked around. I guess I also feel horrible for it.”

“But you both did it, you both didn’t wanna be together.”

“Still feels shitty, if that’s what marriage is…”

“It’s your decision, I won’t judge you for it.” He rests his chin on your shoulder when you turn back around. “We’re moving too fast anyway.”

“I did literally drag you here.”

“No, I am glad you did.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, fake dating you was fun for the day.” He kisses your cheek, snuggling you against him more firmly.

“Doesn’t have to be fake.”

Your heart falters. “You wanna date me, Satoru?”

He smiles. “I do, intern.”

You giggle. “Then beg me.”

“Oh fuck off.” You’re both laughing now, it feels too easy, too natural to be against him, to be with him.

“Would you date me? Pretty please?”

You look back at him with now sleepy eyes. “I will.”

He kisses you again, gripping your jaw, fuck it all feels so good you just shove down the things you learn for now. “You’re so scandalous dating your resident.”

“And you’re scandalously dating your intern.” He smiles against your bare shoulder, kissing it once more as he hugs you. “Do you wanna come to our friendsgiving Saturday?”

“I’m invited already!?”

“Of course. It’ll be nice I think.”

“I’ll be there. Good night, Sweets.”

“Night Satoru.”

*****

 “What’s in that mind, girl.” Yuta waves a hand in front of your face, you keep checking the phone, hoping for a text from Satoru, dinner starts in about an hour and you had told him to come at four. It’s six and he hasn’t responded or read a text or anything.

“Nothing!” You smile and Yuta’s dark brows draw together, he curiously tilts his head.

“Nothing, huh? Maki, what's wrong with her.” Maki bounces up, hands on her hips, tilting her head so that her emerald hair falls over her shoulder.

“It’s Dr. Hunk.”

“Is not!” You cover your face and grimace. Toge walks in the kitchen now, sitting next to you and putting a glass of punch in your hand.

“Drink?”

“God I love you.” Toge turns bright red, standing now, and you sputter, grabbing his hand. “No, don’t run please!” He’s nervously darting violet eyes, and finally sits back down next to you. “You can’t run from me all the time, we live together.”

“Upset?” He asks, you sigh now, sipping the fruity punch and shaking your head.

“No I’m good, promise.” You rest your head on his shoulder for a moment when the doorbell rings, and Toge opens his mouth. “What is it, Toge?”

“I…” He trails off, gulping.

“It’s Dr. Hunk!” Maki exclaims, Toge tenses, glaring his way, surprising you.

“Do you not like him?” You ask softly, and he just stands up now, as Yuta covers his face and sighs.

“You’re clueless.” He tells you, and Satoru now saunters in, grinning with a big bouquet of flowers.

“Oh you didn’t have to.” You say, he hands them with a bow, patting Toge and Yuta on the head like little kids, towering over you all.

“Of course I did. Hey interns.” He smiles and Yuta rolls his eyes, Toge however glares, and Satoru raises his brows.

“Thank you, Satoru.” You take them and lean up, kissing his cheek, the past couple of days you’ve just texted, after his parents home, so much felt new and so many things still unsaid still.

“You’re welcome, baby.” Your three friends watch curiously as Satoru kisses you right in front of them, then gasping as Toge accidentally pours punch on him. “Shit, this is so expensive! Ugh!”

“Accident.” He says, smirking, and you glare at him.

“Toge!” Yuta and Maki snicker too, and you shake your head. “You all are so embarrassing, I can’t bring anyone home?”

“Sorry, can we wash it?” Maki offers, tearing up from her laughter. You’re dabbing at his shirt with the napkins.

“I have to have these dry cleaned. But I mean… it’s dark so I think I’m okay.”

“I’ll get the stain out, I have something you can wear for a few.” You scowl at your friends. “And behave!”

“Yes Mommy.” Maki teases, you scoff, dragging Satoru up the stairs, digging through your drawers, where you had a ton of shirts from your ex.

“I’m not wearing your ex's clothes!”

“What do you care? Just long enough for the stain to come out.” Satoru takes off his shirt now, revealing the chiseled chest of his, and his sculpted abdomen, your eyes drift lower, remembering how big he is, picturing how good he’d feel. “Cat got your tongue, intern?”

“You’re an ass. That's why Toge did it. And you’re late.” Satoru sighs now, walking up to you, picking you up effortlessly so that your feet just dangle.

“I had an emergency at the hospital, I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?”

“A little.” You pout, and he laughs now, picking you up fully, your legs wrap around slender hips.

“Toge did it because he’s in love with you.”

“Oh god he’s not! He’s my friend.”

“Mmm, sure thing. You’re oblivious, I bet you don’t know how much I like you either, huh?” His words get you off guard, when he’s pressing you down into your bed, that sinks under his weight.

“You like me?” You ask, he nods.

“I like the fuck out of you. Like is a shitty word for how I feel.” You feel the damn same, fuck more than you understand or want to say.

“I like you too, a lot. Even if you’re a dick.” He smiles at that.

“I was worried, after that conversation, you’ve been distant?”

“I didn’t mean to be. I thought we should cool off?”

“You are really hot, especially here.” He presses his length against you under those slacks, you whine out, arching your hips, earning his hands tightening against your hips, thumbs pressing into your pelvis. “Don’t wanna cool off.”

“No?” He shakes his head. “Miss me?”

“Fuck yes I missed you. That little ass running around in those scrubs.” You giggle now, caressing his face. “Should I make you forgive me for being late?” 

“Hmm, you wanna make it up to me?” You ask, and he nods, kissing your lips deeply, you melt right under him, grinding up for more as he slips your velvety little red dress up your thighs.

“Don’t we have one more date before I can hit?” He teases, you roll your eyes at him.

“Are you gonna hit and quit?”

“God no. Can only imagine how good you feel around me.” Satoru’s eagerly unsnapping his pants now, and you can’t believe the insanity of the moment, his fingers rubbing your clit over your panties, finding you already soaked. “Just from kissing?”

“I love kissing you.” He pauses then, eyes burning bright blue, darting back and forth across your face.

“I love kissing you.” He whispers back, white lashes casting shadows over his cheeks when he sinks two fingers right in, it’s a stretch but you’re craving it, slick and soaked. “Want me to eat you out again?”

“Yes, but I also want that dick.” He grins, sucking his fingers, cheeks hollowing.

“But you taste s’good.”

“Please… please…” You’re hastily shoving your panties off, and he’s pulling his cock fully out, a tangle of limbs.

“Condoms?” He asks, you curse.

“Shit, no! I could ask Maki but oh my god…” Satoru’s rubbing his cock against your slick folds now, and you’re fucked up already.

“I always use one, I’m good if you’re…”

“Me too. Yes please, I need- ah!” Satoru slides in you, stretching you more than you’ve ever been, so deep you feel insanely full, damn near sobbing as you feel him inside you. Your eyes lock, and his mouth parts, head tilting back as he sinks deeper, until he’s against your cervix. “Oh my god…”

He exhales, lifting a leg up, gripping your ass through the fabric of the dress you’re still wearing. “You’re so tight, fuck baby.” He moans now, resting his head on yours for a moment, your walls are fluttering at the invasion of his huge cock inside of you. “Need a sec?”

“S’big… It’s s’much.” You adjust your hips to it, stuffed so full, he kisses you, pulling back out, then slamming deep again, and you can’t stand out good it feels, you’re clinging to him, nodding now. “I can take it. Please.”

“Fuck.” Is all he manages, lifting your thighs and fucking into you now, hard brutal strokes that make you blinded as he uses one hand to brace himself, the other yanking at your dress, pulling your tits out and lavishing them with his tongue. Your hands dig into the sheets under you, head sinking into the pillows, letting out a moan so loud he claps a hand on your mouth.

You scream out against his hand as he pumps you so full, drooling tip slamming on your cervix, you feel yourself cumming all over him, making him gasp, slowing as he feels you pulsing on him. He eases his hand off your mouth now, long fingers wrapping your delicate throat.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this, can I?” You nod eagerly, thighs shaking as you recover from your orgasm.

“You can resuscitate me, go for it.” He laughs breathless, squeezing your throat now, fucking you harder as he leans up, watching your every expression, watching your eyes roll back and your mouth open in an O.

“So pretty, fucked out already baby?” He taunts you, squeezing harder, and you feel fuzzy, lightheaded as he works you, hips pistoning and hitting spots you never fucking knew existed, the choking making every sensation heightened. He leans over you, pressing in deep and rolling his hips. “Cum again, lemme feel her.”

You’re obeying before you can think, he watches your silent cries as your face reddens from his grip, as your eyes roll back in your skull, cumming in a silent, breathy cry while he presses on your pulse point, squeezing so tight. You feel your ears ringing, blood rushing to your head when he releases you, moaning and kissing you deeply, when you try to suck up air.

“F-fuck it’s s’good, Satoru… I…”

“Feel perfect, baby. Sloppy little cunt, hear her?” Of course you do, you weakly nod, gasping again as he’s lifting your thighs up so high, smushing them against your breasts, you hear the wet smacks of his cock railing you, hear his balls smacking on your ass, hear each breath as you all try to conceal your moans. “Never f-felt anything like you.”

He’s leaning all his weight on you now, hips rolling again, making you sob it’s so fucking good, you’re struggling to breathe, clinging to him tightly. “M’gonna cum again, ngh.”

“Yeah, you’re so easy for me, hmm?” You can’t even glare at his teasing, you just nod. “Such a good girl now, dick made you shut that mouth finally?”

“Shut up g-god.” He’s cupping your face with his big ass hands as he sinks so deep you scream into his lips, shuddering as his curved tip drags on another spot, he’s finding every single one you have, working them when you shiver, when you jerk.

“Birth control?” He asks, and you nod weakly. “Perfect, because no way I’m pulling the fuck out.”

You’re getting fucked even harder now, the sounds of his pelvis smacking against your thighs and the squelching wetness of your cunt stupid loud, his snowy lashes lower over fucked out eyes as he studies you. He slows for a moment then, whimpering like he did last time you sucked him, right in your ear, pumping your cunt so full then, coating you entirely.

“Feel so p-perfect, cum w’me baby please.” He whines the words, and pumps more cum, as he’s fucking you still hard, and his white sticky ropes are dripping out of you, you yank him in for a kiss, crying out your pleasure into his plush lips, he devours your mouth, still pumping.

He’s easing now, hips are stuttering, and you’re crying out. “Too much…”

“I know but it’s too good.” He’s easing your thighs, now sore as fuck, brushing your cheek gently, feeling your aftershocks. “I’m ruined. You’ve ended an era.”

“Whatever.” You snort, rolling your eyes, but he cups your face again, brushing back your hair.

“No, it’s never been like this.” He entwines a hand with yours, and you struggle not to completely fall into his madness, but it’s damn near impossible.

“Me either. I haven’t done…”

“No one has cum in you?” You shake your head with a nervous gesture, biting your lip, he gently pulls it from your teeth. “Don’t worry I’ll fill you up every day.”

“You’re full of it. You’ll go back to Hojo blowjob breaks.”

His eyes narrow as he eases out of you, exhaling at the mess you two have made. “Only from you.”

“I don’t know if I believe it.”

“No? Then you’ll have to see.” He kisses down your body, still half in your dress, you’re thankful the material doesn’t wrinkle.

“Can a Hojo be loyal?” He leans up and looks at you, brows together.

“I will never cheat like that again. That was… a fucked up time.”

“I was kidding! And I wasn’t talking about that, I meant like Miwa.” He exhales then, and you frown. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease.”

“No, it’s understandable. Well baby let me tell you.” He keeps kissing up your thigh now, and you’re throbbing at how sore you are, he pulls open your puffy lips to watch his cum pour out of you. “You’re all I want. Look at this slutty pussy.”

He laps some of his cum out of you with the hot tip of his tongue, you gasp at it, oversensitive and he’s such a freaky ass, you can’t believe what he’s doing, grinning up at you. “Satoru-”

“Hate to break it up lovers, got an emergency.” Yuta's voice came from the door, you quickly fixed your dress, Satoru got on his pants, coming up to you and pulling you against him.

“Don’t let this be just once. Want you over and over.” You moan now, hands sliding up his bare chest.

“I’m dripping your cum.” You whisper, he huffs now, fingers slipping back inside your cunt, you cover your mouth not to scream.

“How much of an emergency?” Satoru asks tersely.

“Well Maki is about to kill her ex. He just showed up.”

“Shit.” You curse yourself, taking Satoru’s fingers and sucking yourself and him off them, he snatches you by your hair, kissing you again.

“I’ll fuck you in front of him, maybe he’ll stop?” Satoru’s smirking again, and you laugh, snatching up baby wipes and cleaning yourself quickly.

“Oh no, he’s persistent. Come on.” You drag him, still shirtless, and Yuta is shaking his head as he looks at you. “What!?”

“Where’s the five date rule, champ?” He teases.

“Oh stuff it. I can’t believe he’s here.” You three go down the stairs, where Maki currently has him in a headlock, and you can’t stop the giggle that escapes. She frees him now, and his eyes lock onto you, then to Gojo, glaring now. “Mahito, get the fuck out.”

He brushes off his shirt, glaring at Satoru with deadly ice blue eyes, and Satoru holds you against him, still shirtless, smirking. “Hi there, I’m new boyfriend.”

“Satoru…” You whisper, and Mahito walks up to you now, giving you the biggest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“Sweetheart, let’s talk. Please?” He pouts now, taking your hand, you shake your head at him.

“What are you even doing here!?”

“Just talk to me.”

“Out.” Toge orders, pointing to the door, but Mahito doesn’t budge, just staring at you, his light blue hair a disheveled mess.

“Please.”

“She’s too busy buddy.” Satoru pats him on the shoulder, only for Mahito to punch him, you gasp then, and Satoru’s eyes are terrifying then, the entire room holds its breath as you watch Mahito back up.

“Shit.” You mumble.

“He’s gonna die.” Maki whispers to you, and then she grins. “How was that dick though?”

“Maki!”

A/N- took a departure from the hospital hehe, now you know who her ex is ;) Lots of drama ahead from that messy convo abt marriage too. Can't wait to hear your thoughts!!

Taglist: @lost-resonance @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine  @antisocialinlw @meg3mis@miizuzu @nanasukii28 @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @moncher-ire @jkslaugh97 @shadeowz @gojo1228 @nanasukii28 @jaeminaur @httpstoyosi @angel1of-death @seeing-stars-alt @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @trishiepo0 @inthedarkshadows000 @gina239 @san-it-is-i-guess @pelicanpizza @gojo1228 @ducky1232 @unikornboop @inthedarkshadows000 @eclecticmentalitypersona @burguhndy @levislug

Part Five

[sephirthoughts]

Vincent's New Kid Just Dropped CH 14: Deepground Flashback, a big fight happens, Rosso collects a baby duck, special cameo appearance by everyone's favorite good, good boy.

RATING: mature for a non-explicit sex scene

WARNINGS: hojo, canon-typical violence, scarlet being a creep to sixteen-year-old Weiss

prev. chap

everyone's best friend Zack

“What did I tell you,” Hojo said smugly, to Lazard, who was looking understandably ill-at-ease.

“I don’t listen to half of the deranged shit you say,” Lazard answered irritably. He pressed the intercom button, that linked them to the training arena, where Weiss was pulling Genesis to his feet, after having thrashed him soundly, for the third time in a row. “Genesis. Report.”

Genesis tossed the camera a jaunty salute. “As you’ve certainly deduced, by now, I deem this candidate fit to participate in a sparring contest, with my fellow SOLDIER First Class, Sephiroth.”

“But how are you? Are you injured?” 

“You know what they say,” Genesis replied, with a rueful laugh. “Nothing bruised but my pride and internal organs.”

“Alright, then,” Lazard sighed. “It looks like you’ll have your fight, Hojo. I’ll give the green light to the Marketing Department, and set things rolling.”

“Stay close, when you fight him,” Genesis advised Weiss, back in the boys’ quarters. “He’s a skilled spellcaster, and you are best at close range, so don’t let him use his long-range advantage. He’s the most dangerous at mid-range, because of that huge sword, though, so hem him in tightly, if you can. Don’t give him room to use it effectively. Most importantly…keep your eyes open, little brother. I have an uneasy feeling about all of this.”

“I will,” Weiss nodded dutifully. 

“Good,” Genesis smiled, laying an affectionate hand on his cheek. “I’ll be cheering for you.”

“Will you be there, to see the fight?” Nero asked, tugging Genesis’ other hand. 

“I’m afraid not. I ship back out to the frontlines tomorrow. But I’ll be watching the live satellite feed. Unless there’s enemy activity, then I’ll have to watch the recording, later.”

“When will you come see us, again, big-brother?”

“I won’t make any promises as to when, because I can’t say what things will be like at the front, but it will be the soonest that I can. I’m going to look into our blood connection, too. Hopefully I’ll have some answers, by then.”

Nero’s crimson eyes were large and round, in his pale face, and he was still clinging to Genesis’ hand with both of his. Moved by his childlike earnestness, Genesis took the smaller boy in his arms and pressed kisses to his silky, black hair. 

“Worry not, little one. Though the morrow be barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return.” 

Within an hour of the famous SOLDIER’s departure, personnel were sent to restore and repair all of the destroyed surveillance equipment in Weiss and Nero’s room. This mattered very little to the two boys, who were indifferent to being observed, and communicated silently, anyway.

After all that, months passed, before anything progressed regarding the planned duel with Sephiroth. During that time, rumors began to reach Deepground that something big had happened, in SOLDIER. People were even saying that some top-level people had betrayed Shinra and defected. Nero couldn’t reach Genesis through the darkness link at a distance, like he could with Weiss, so they wouldn’t be able to ask him about it, till he visited again.

Meanwhile, they continued training and living pretty much as normal. Hojo went away to do whatever he did. The girls he’d brought for Weiss were still there, but one had broken away from the main pack and begun hanging around wherever Rosso was. Rosso responded much like Weiss had, when she started following him around, which was to ignore the girl and go about her business, but make no objection to her presence. 

As per their usual, Weiss and Nero didn’t care even a little bit, and so the new girl gradually became part of the Deepground group. She was always muttering to herself and making notes and sketches in her little notebook, but otherwise, she was generally inoffensive. 

At long last, Hojo called to say that the fight with Sephiroth had been scheduled, and was to take place a week hence. There was to be a huge live audience, including the entire Shinra board of directors. He assured Weiss that Sephiroth was aware of their purpose, and wouldn’t embarrass him.

Later that evening, Nero lay splayed out in the tumble of white sheets, black marks writhing and dancing all over his slender body, while Weiss’ hot tongue coaxed and teased him open, sometimes gentle and patient, sometimes urgent and demanding, but always an act of abject worship, a zealot before his god, demonstrating his fanatic devotion on his hands and knees.

Nero bit deep into his brother’s neck, coiling his legs tightly around his waist, as he pushed himself inside. Their souls connected as their bodies moved together, slick with sweat, giving and receiving, fucking and being fucked, joined at the white-hot nexus of pleasure, merging deeper and deeper into one another.

The primary goal of their sexual unions was not orgasm, though they enjoyed that part, too, but rather the relief of the ache of emptiness, that would grow and grow, the longer they weren’t fully merged, until it became a howling void of agony and need. 

Their psychic connection provided some relief, and slowed the process, but eventually, they would have to be united again, or the pain would become maddening and unbearable, and much like the pain of a phantom limb, without any remedy, other than the re-attaching of the missing part. Fortunately, they were also a couple of hormonal teenagers, and so the necessity of merging their being accorded well with their biological drive to be constantly fucking.

“I’m sorry they won’t let you go with me,” Wiess sighed, when Nero lay in his arms, after their amorous activities. 

“We’ll be watching, here,” Nero said, nestling more securely into his brother’s broad chest. “If you need me, just use the darkness. I look forward to witnessing your victory.”

“Genesis doesn’t think I’ll win.”

“You only used half your strength to fight him. Of course he doesn’t.”

Weiss laughed and pressed a kiss to Nero’s forehead. “I couldn’t tip my hand to Lazard and Hojo. Besides, don’t you think he’ll be surprised, when he sees me kill Shinra’s big hero, on live television?”

“We don’t even know where he is. He might not be somewhere that he can watch it, live. If he doesn’t, he’ll certainly get word of what happened, before he sees it, and it’ll ruin your surprise.”

“I think he’ll still be surprised.”

On the morning of the fight, they transported Wiess like a max-security prisoner, in a fully closed capsule reminiscent of a coffin. Thus, when he stepped out into the massive stadium, from the locker-room staging area, it was the first time he had ever laid eyes upon the sky. 

What he could see of it, through the halfway open stadium roof, he found to be rather disappointing, overall. Just a dull, grey dome, not too unlike the ceiling in Deepground, only a lot bigger and higher up. 

Back in Deepground, everyone was gathered around different video screens, all watching the live broadcast. Nero was with Rosso, who was visibly anxious, and the other girl, who was doodling in her notebook. After a lot of unnecessary music and chatter from the presenters, the feed finally cut to Weiss, entering the stadium.

“He’s so beautiful,” Nero murmured, with an adoring sigh.

He did cut a rather imposing figure, both from afar, and on the huge screens, with his handsome face, wild, white hair, and tall, broad frame. The long, white jacket they’d given him billowed and blew in the wind, while he strode confidently out to his position, in the football-field sized ring. 

He wore no armor, so the sum total of his equipment, aside from the jacket, amounted to his usual white dojo pants, black boots, modeled after a samurai’s kegutsu, with a flexible, rubber shaft, and metal knee guard, and a pair of agile katanas. 

When he threw off the jacket to strap the katanas to his bare back, exposing his heavily muscled torso, there was scattered whistling and catcalling, amongst the gigantic crowd. He was a total unknown, however, here to challenge the greatest and most beloved hero in the world, so most of the positive reaction was drowned out by the voluble booing. 

“Why are they booing him?” Rosso demanded, indignantly. “He should slaughter all of them, for their impudence.”

A moment later, the crowd went absolutely roaring mad, further offending her, as Sephiroth dropped into the arena, from some concealed platform high above. He landed lightly on his feet, black coat and silver hair flowing majestically about him. His nearly seven-foot height made Weiss look less impressive, by comparison, especially bulked up as Sephiroth’s silhouette was, by those huge pauldrons.

“He is very big,” Rosso remarked, apprehensively. “Bigger even than Commander Weiss.”

“His size won’t matter,” Nero assured her. “Weiss is stronger. He’ll win.”

The presenters were making some effusive, overblown introduction of the great war hero, and gushing about his merits and achievements, but Weiss heard none of it. He was a hunting lion, that had sighted prey, and he neither heard nor saw anything but his opponent, from that moment on. 

They stepped forward and clasped hands, after the manner of warriors, then returned to their positions. There was a long and breathless moment, during which the crowd fell nearly silent, then the starting bell sounded and both men simply vanished. 

That is to say, they both moved faster than the human eye could perceive, and clashed like a burst of fireworks, sparks flying as swords collided, the ringing clangs as rapid and staccato as machinegun fire, their movements an incomprehensible blur, till they leapt apart. Gazes locked, they circled one another, like a pair of wolves. 

Weiss saw Sephiroth’s catlike pupil slits, rapidly dilating and contracting, as he reassessed his opponent, and laughed. “Hojo told you to go easy on me, right? Well, consider this a gentleman’s warning. You had better use your full strength to fight me. Because I am here to kill you.”

By way of reply, Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, and dropped into his fighting stance.

Blades sang as they clashed again, and this time, Weiss locked Masamune in a blocking hold, with his dual blades. His silver-blue eyes were alight with the joy of battle, and literally illuminated by the bright-gold rings that were beginning to glow faintly, around his pupils.

“What are you?” Sephiroth demanded, as they grappled.  

Weiss bared his teeth, in a savage grin. “I’m you, but better.”

Sephiroth gave a roar and threw him off, and they were back in the fray, flying around the arena, trading rapid bursts of blows, in blurred flashes of white and silver light, that could only be properly deciphered when they were instant-replayed in slow motion on the big screens, for the benefit of the spectators, and those watching at home.

Sephiroth’s usual expression of casual indifference had given way to a look of grim concentration, which was proof enough of how he was faring in this fight. Weiss, on the other hand, seemed to be growing more energetic and elated, his laughter rolling like thunder in the vast arena, as the two performed their bloodthirsty dance. 

Sephiroth did manage to put distance between them, a few times, and threw fire and thunder spells at Weiss, which slowed him down, as he had to block or evade them, but he always managed to close the distance again, too quickly for it to become a real issue.

“Range, he needs range. That is the sword’s major weakness,” Rosso’s little acolyte muttered to herself, as she hurriedly scribbled something in her notebook. Rosso and Nero ignored her.

The tension and excitement in the crowd was nearing its peak, as it became increasingly clear how closely matched the two opponents actually were. They collided once again, in an explosion of blows. The shriek of metal on metal rang out, where the blades met, sliding along each other, throwing off a shower of sparks, then a sudden spray of crimson, as both leapt back, landing on their feet many meters apart. 

When the cameras caught up, and their images reappeared on the big screens, the crowd gave a collective cry of dismay. Blood ran along the edge of a gleaming blade, held aloft for all to see. The blade in Weiss’ hand. 

To the horrified disbelief of the spectators, a corresponding bloody slash had appeared across Sephiroth’s chest, from which the crossed leather straps had been severed and now hung loose. Sephiroth! The greatest hero in the world! How could he be wounded? How strong must this other man be, to have wounded him? Many of them began to look at this interloper with new eyes.

“So you can bleed,” Weiss said, with a deranged smile.

In full view of the cameras, while his image was still up on the big screens, he drew his sword along his tongue, licking Sephiroth’s blood off the flat of the blade. The crowd rumbled disapprovingly and some of them booed about it, but Weiss had no interest in their opinions. He was here for one reason, and one reason, alone. 

“What’s the meaning of this, Hojo?” Heidegger demanded, from his seat behind President Shinra, in the executive box. “Have you set your boy up to be beaten?”

“I’m all for you embarrassing yourself in public,” Scarlet chimed in, “but it’s Shinra that loses face, if Sephiroth looks like a fool.”

“Is Sephiroth really hurt? Is he in danger?” asked Reeve, the only one who looked genuinely concerned for the young warrior.

“I’ve got a big bet riding on that boy, Hojo,” Palmer cut in angrily. “You’d better tell me if I’m about to take a bath!”

“I wonder, I wonder,” Hojo said, cackling gleefully to himself. 

It is important to note, however, that President Shinra neither joined the others in questioning the Director of his Science and Research Division, nor did he appear particularly perturbed by Sephiroth’s struggling in the fight.

Back in Deepground, Rosso was over the moon, and even Nero had a bloodthirsty smile on his face. It seemed that his brother’s victory and Sephiroth’s death were imminent. 

Out in the ring, Sephiroth ignored the crowd, the taunt from Weiss, and the wound on his chest, and readied Masamune again. Weiss knew that the time had come to press his advantage. If he hesitated now, he may never have another chance to kill Sephiroth. 

They locked blades again, and this time he forced Sephiroth backward, until he dug his heels in, and pushed back. Weiss pressed on, gritting his teeth, pushing Masamune closer and closer to Sephiroth’s face.

Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation of heat, at the base of his skull. At the same time, his arms went weak, like the blood had been drained out of them. His stance sagged, as he found himself having to exert many times the effort, to hold off Sephiroth’s blade. 

“What…what did you do to me! What’s happening to my body!” Weiss snarled, through his clenched teeth, his muscles shaking with the strain of resisting the now-advancing Sephiroth. 

Their blades ground together, faces so close they could have kissed. There was a look of eerie calm in Sephiroth’s brilliant green eyes, and a slight smile tugged up the corners of his lips. 

He spoke for his opponent’s ears only, far too softly for even the most sensitive microphones to pick up. “You may possess more brute strength, but all means of achieving victory are valid. Including deception and betrayal.”

Weiss lost the struggle and stumbled back, his legs heavy and clumsy, as if he was wading in wet concrete. With that, the fight became a rout, Sephiroth tossing Weiss around the arena, toying with him, as he strove desperately to fend off the relentless storm of attacks, with his suddenly lax and unresponsive body. 

He felt a surge of support come from the darkness, across the void. It comforted him, but had no effect on whatever was happening to his body. Weiss was still Weiss, however, and his mental fortitude hadn’t deserted him, with his physical strength. No matter what the odds, or how certain his death, so long as he had breath in his body, he would never give up. He would keep fighting, to the bitter end, despite knowing the contest was lost.

At long last, battered, bruised, and bleeding from the nose and mouth, as well as sword wounds all over his body, he collapsed, unable to even lift his arms, let alone get back to his feet. His swords, one broken off halfway down the blade, and one chipped and blunted, clattered to the ground, beside him.

The bell sounded, the match was called for Sephiroth, and the crowd went wild, whooping and cheering for their beloved hero, while many among them booed and taunted the arrogant upstart, who had dared think himself a worthy challenger to the great and mighty Sephiroth.

Sephiroth gave a low bow, in the direction of the Shinra executives’ box, then waved and smiled for the crowd, before he hauled Weiss to his feet, supporting him with Weiss’ arm hooked over his shoulders, as if they were friends. About a hundred camera drones swarmed them, clamoring for a statement. 

“My opponent fought well and honorably,” said the beautiful, silver-haired hero, who wasn’t sweating or disheveled, after the prolonged, energetic fight. “I believe Weiss is the most skilled fighter I have ever faced. I’ve learned a lot, from our match today, and I look forward to testing my skill against him again. But let’s not trouble him to make a statement, at the moment. I think he’s a little fatigued.”

The crowd roared with laughter, as if that were the cleverest joke they’d ever heard, and then burst into applause, moved by their hero’s generosity and humility in victory. 

Weiss couldn’t have spoken if his life depended on it. He was too stupefied to even be certain what was happening was real. His head lolled to the side, and his limbs had turned to stone. His eyes felt gritty, like they were full of sand, and his vision was blurred.

Sephiroth half-supported, half-carried him from the arena, through the heavily guarded doors, into what was essentially the backstage area. The moment the doors slid shut behind them, he let go of Weiss, who reeled to the side, staggered a few steps, then sat down hard on the floor, leaning heavily against the metal lockers.

“You fucking coward,” he sneered, struggling to focus his eyes on Sephiroth. “You have…you have no honor.”

“I am a soldier, not a dancing puppet!” Sephiroth exploded, shoving away the bottle of water someone was trying to hand him, and striding over to look down at Weiss, green cat-eyes ablaze with wrath. “I was called back from an active operation, to have this farce of a contest with you! That is enough of an insult to me, already! Was I also to lose the fight, and destroy the morale of all the hundreds of thousands of Shinra troops who look to me, for hope?”

“Fuck your false hope,” Weiss slurred out. “They all think you’re a god. They should know you’re just a f—a fucking cheater.”

“Warfare isn’t a game! Do you not understand that? On the battlefield, no one cares about honor! Honor doesn’t blunt blades or stop bullets! The only rule is do not let your opponent win, because if they win, you die! No one cares if you fought fairly, when you’re dead!”

“Sephiroth, stop!” a voice called out, as booted footsteps approached.

“Zack,” Sephiroth said, his demeanor instantly softening. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone, already.”

Another tall, blurry figure appeared, looming over Weiss. “Mission got delayed. Waiting on the Turks to get their shit together. Why don’t you come have lunch with me.”

“I’m not done, here,” Sephiroth said, turning back to Weiss.

“Come on, man,” Zack interposed. “You already beat the shit out of the kid, just leave it at that.” 

“Not a fucking kid,” Weiss protested, all inebriated indignation. “I’m sixt…sixteen.”

Sephiroth looked startled, then disgusted. “Hmph. I should’ve known. You may look like a grown man, but only a child would’ve fallen for a double-cross so simple. Here’s a piece of advice, that may aid you in the future: never try to beat an old snake at his own game. You’ll only wind up humiliated, or dead.”

“You’re wasting your breath,” Zack said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Can’t you see he’s completely out of it? Come on, let’s hit the road, before the execs catch up.”

Weiss was hazily aware of the two towering figures departing. Then there was some kind of commotion, and all the other blurry background figures scattered, scurrying out of the immediate area as fast as they could. He could hear lot of footsteps approaching. Heavy boot-treads, from a large group of guards, lighter taps, from men’s formal shoes, and even some clacks from high-heels.

Two soldier-colored blobs darted ahead of the approaching group and grabbed Weiss by the arms, intending to haul him to his feet, which, as it turned out, was quite ill-advised. Even in his severely weakened and half-conscious state, he swatted them away like flies, sending them sprawling across the slick, tile floor. 

“You call that under control?” a stocky, bearded blob thundered. “You said the President would be safe!”

“Oh, he’s perfectly safe,” Hojo’s weaselly voice replied, with a chuckle. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

A weird, all-black blob stepped out of the group blob, and Weiss felt that hot tingling on the back of his neck again. Immediately, his vision cleared and the heavy, drunken feeling dissipated. But as he leapt to his feet, the black-cloaked and helmeted figure barked, “Down, dog! Do not move or speak until you’re ordered to!”

To Weiss’ shock and revulsion, his body obeyed, dropping him to his knees, where he remained, red-eyed with rage, but unable to move or make a sound. 

“Ooh, now, that is interesting,” Scarlet crooned, sauntering over to look down at him, with unconcealed lust. “What an amusing toy he is. Make him strip, I want to see the rest.”

“Scarlet, what the hell are you doing?” Reeve exclaimed. “He’s a person, not a toy!”

“Oh, please, Reeve, get off your high-horse,” she scoffed, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “He’s not a person, he’s a SOLDIER, which makes him a weapon. As Director of Advanced Weaponry, I want to inspect the product thoroughly, before I form a conclusive opinion.”

“Strip!” the black-cloaked figure barked at Weiss. 

Weiss strained against the compulsion with all his will, but that barely slowed his fingers, which were already unbuckling his knee guards and pulling off his boots. His chest was heaving with ragged breaths, from the effort he was making to resist, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, as his body got to his feet, and his hands went to his waist, to untie his belt.

“That’s enough,” President Shinra cut in. “I’m convinced.”

“Stop,” the black-clad man commanded. “Dress yourself and await orders.”

Weiss left off fighting, which he now knew was only a waste of energy, and let his body mechanically pull his boots back on, and refasten his knee guards. The sensation was bizarre and disturbing.

“As I promised, Mr. President, the perfect SOLDIER,” Hojo announced, with a grand flourish in Weiss’ direction. “Not only is he at least as strong as the successful S-type specimen, he is perfectly compliant and controllable. I imagine—especially in light of recent, embarrassing incidents—you would appreciate never having to doubt the obedience or loyalty of your SOLDIERs. With sufficient funding, I can create a whole army just like him, in Deepground. A second, superior SOLDIER unit, to report only to yourself, through the Restrictor, who is linked directly to the control chip, via—”

“Enough ballyhoo, Hojo, I said I was convinced,” President Shinra interrupted, impatiently. “Consider your project funded, at your discretion. Whatever you need, to get this up and running. But I want full functionality in six months.”

“Hm, hm, such a tight deadline,” Hojo said, pretending to deliberate. “But…if I’m not interfered with, I believe I can make that work.”

“Good. See that you do.”

While they talked, Scarlet had come over and was tracing her crimson-nailed fingertips over the flawlessly sculpted muscles of Weiss’ bare chest and abdomen. He couldn’t move to do anything about it, so he ignored her and focused on running some calculations in his head. 

“You know, he only looks like an adult,” Hojo said aridly, to Scarlet, who had hooked her finger into Weiss’ waistband, and pulled it out, to peer down inside. “He’s sixteen years old.”

“Sixteen is an adult. Or have you already forgotten the measures we pushed into law, so you and Heidegger could get younger conscripts.” Scarlet arched her eyebrow at the impressive view she’d treated herself to, before she let the waistband snap back into place. “I think I’ll come visit Deepground sometime, soon. Just to see how things are developing down there.”

Weiss had been engrossed in his thoughts, and aware of none of what was happening around him. He had analyzed the situation, and extrapolated all the potential results, but no matter how he approached it, he kept arriving at the same solution: Deepground was fucked. And it was his fault.

“Nero. I’m sorry,” he whispered to the darkness. “I’m so sorry. I ruined everything. Please, forgive me. ”

He felt Nero’s confusion and anguished worry, and also his comforting aura, reaching out to coil around him, across the void. 

“It will be alright, my love,” came the answer. “Whatever is coming, we can face it, together.”

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