#sephiroth corpses though

[beeftendergroin]

inspired by that depressed red jester painting but make it cloud strife with his 6'7" psychological baggage

[rottenpumpkin13]

Today is World Introvert Day, so... lets' leave our favorite FF7 introverts alone to spend the day by themselves.

Sephiroth: Spends his day happily holed up in his quarters. He allows himself an indulgence in the form of a piece of Banora White tart, paired with a perfect cup of black tea. He eats slowly, savoring each bite before settling into his armchair with a book in hand. It's something dense but rewarding, an obscure text on ancient myths Genesis gifted him. His margin notes are observational and witty, he writes them between chapters when he's not polishing Masamune. Later he retrieves an old sketchbook hidden away in his desk, the one he only uses when he tries to sketch his mother's face from memory. He never gets it right, it's never like her photo. He flips through earlier attempts, wondering if he'll ever capture her the way he imagines her—soft, kind, unreachable.

Cloud: He settles inside a small supply room he stumbled across that smells faintly of wood polish, and the way the sunlight filters through a dusty window reminds him of mornings back in Nibelheim. He's dragged in an office chair and sits there with his knees pulled up, a sketchpad balanced on them. He's doodling—mostly crude, messy sketches of Fenrir, the bike he dreams of owning someday, though there's a half-finished one of Zack grinning stupidly with an exaggeratedly spiky hedgehog haircut. Every once in a while he glances up at the door, worried someone might find his hideout. He even brought a sandwich to eat while he daydreams about home, making SOLDIER some day, and becoming someone worthy of being hailed a hero.

Vincent: As always, he's in his coffin in the basement. He's lying completely still, eyes half-shut, as if daring anyone to find him and mistake him for a corpse. It's not far from the truth. He spends most of the time replaying memories of Lucrecia and the countless what-ifs that plague him. What if he had run with her, left Shinra behind, and raised Sephiroth as their son? What if he had killed Hojo before anything could happen? Would Lucrecia still be alive? Would he even have the right to be happy? But no matter how many scenarios he conjures up, they all end the same way: none of it happened, and none of it ever will. With a sigh, he turns to the only distraction he allows himself—dragging his clawed fingers on the inside of a coffin lid, working on that drawing of Lucrecia no one will ever see.

[getvalentined]

Friendly reminder that the only reason Genesis is the antagonist of Crisis Core is because Zack is with Shinra. Literally.

Once he's on the run, once Genesis knows that Zack can't help him, he literally brings Hollander to Gongaga for Zack to kill—he tells Zack what Hollander is planning under the guise of it being a joint effort, but once Hollander runs off, Genesis then tells Zack what he intends to do. He talks to him about Loveless and the Lifestream, he shoves a Banora White into his hands when Zack charges at him, and then he leaves. Hollander is left behind—in Zack's hometown, his own turf, so there's nowhere to run and nowhere to hide—allowing Zack to enact poetic justice at last by striking down Angeal's birth father with the very sword that the man who actually raised Angeal died to earn, the sword that honorless Gillian said represented all the honor the Hewleys had left.

And then, finally realizing what's actually going on, Zack sets out to to Banora to save Genesis from dying.

There's no point after Modeoheim that Genesis outright attacks Zack until he's cured at the Light of Doom; there, he calls Zack First Class SOLDIER even though he's not anymore, because Genesis isn't trying to strike down Zack, he's trying to reclaim the right to the only title he's ever had that felt worth anything, and he's trying to take the burden of that title from Zack.

If he wins, Genesis takes the guilt of killing both Angeal and Sephiroth—because he doesn't know Cloud's role, he doesn't know that Zack wasn't the one to strike Sephiroth down, he doesn't even know Cloud's name. Conversely, if he loses, then it's confirmation that Zack is the hero of the story, truly and completely, and that's all right too. If that's how the story ends, that's how it ends. (Minerva intervenes, pulls Genesis from the duel, and he never gets to see the ending. The final act, as in his beloved ancient poem, remains a mystery.)

Genesis is the main antagonist of Crisis Core, but he's never been the bad guy. The entirety of Final Fantasy VII has a single monolith of villainy, and that's always been—and will always be—Shinra. Shinra made the Reactors and dug up Jenova. Shinra made Genesis, Sephiroth, Angeal, and DeepGround. Shinra burned Kalm, Banora, and (partially) Nibelheim. Shinra used any corpse they found or made as research fodder. Shinra killed the last fullblooded Cetra and drove her only daughter to a place where the only way to save the people she loved was through her death. Shinra is the bad guy.

Zack is with Shinra for the majority of the game, and thus the story behaves accordingly. Shinra's enemies are Zack's enemies, because that's the side he's on. Shinra sees Avalanche as enemies, too, but no one ever refers to Barret or Elfe as "irredeemably evil" the way they do Genesis. Barret dresses up his quest for revenge in the guise of saving the planet, but all that matters to him is that anyone even remotely connected to the company suffers the way he's suffered. Elfe allowed Fuhito to experiment on people, to take the corpses of SOLDIER and make undead weapons out of them, violating the sanctity of their final rest and denying them entry to the Lifestream altogether.

"Genesis experimented on his men!" It was a desertion, not an abduction. People who become Copies when they aren't properly enhanced don't get the same enhanced abilities as a First and they degrade very quickly, we see that in Hollander and Lazard—meaning that every single Genesis Copy was one of those SOLDIER Seconds or Thirds that defected with Genesis of their own free will in Wutai after he grew a wing and the world turned upside-down. Genesis' men loved him and they went along willingly.

When Genesis locks himself up in the Light of Doom, his last hope for a cure, he has one last Copy in there with him. When Zack unlocks the gate, he's attacked by one last Copy, even though Genesis has been waiting for him, he's not antagonistic toward him anymore, he hasn't been for a long time.

Genesis took that last Copy, a man with a horrible disease who is definitely too far gone to save, and brought him along to the Light of Doom in the hopes that maybe, maybe things could be set right. When Zack unlocks the gate, that man throws himself at him to protect Genesis, because this is his last chance and Genesis' men love him.

When Zack fights Genesis' Weapon avatar and is attacked by incomplete and twisted ghosts of Genesis Copies, magical inhuman wisps that hold him back while Genesis heals—they're in the Lifestream then, the Light of Doom pulled them both in. Those Copies are literally the ghosts of Genesis' men, unable to diffuse into the Lifestream because of their Jenova infection, fighting to protect him from beyond the grave. Genesis' men love him. They want to save him. They went with him willingly.

"Genesis killed his parents!" The parents who lied to him his entire life in order to keep getting a paycheck from Shinra? The parents that funded his fanclub as a form of marketing for a company that literally wouldn't exist without Genesis' world-changing contribution to food processing as a teenager? Those parents?

Genesis has a little shrine in the Banora Underground where he keeps all his awards and achievements—a little desk with a lantern in an unfinished stone tunnel. They survived the bombing of Banora because they weren't in the house; the chalkboard has sketches of what would clearly become the Banora brand logo, which was presumably made about a decade prior to the Nibelheim Incident, not long after Genesis figured out how to make Banora White juice shelf stable, not long before he left for Midgar to enlist.

Having all the proof of every good thing Genesis has ever done shoved into a tunnel under his hometown, hidden from the public, while his family raked in huge amounts of wealth based on those achievements, indicates quite clearly that Genesis' parents were the exact opposite of good and loving.

But he buried them anyway, didn't he?

Genesis may not be a particularly good person, but he's never been evil, he's never been the bad guy. Genesis was right—more than that, he was justified. His methods were not. He did terrible things. He hurt and killed a lot of people.

But he was only ever the enemy because Shinra said he was. Genesis doesn't need a redemption arc because he already had one, and Minerva herself said he could serve the planet forever to prove it.

[icycoldninja]

Long dead memories (Sephiroth X Reader angst)

Tw: Death and sickness; DNI if you are not comfortable with these themes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geostigma. The most debilitating, terrifying, fear striking disease to have ever existed, it wracked the bodies of most of the survivors of Sephiroth's heinous scheme to destroy the planet with Meteor. It appeared to be most prevalent in those who were closest to him, therefore it was only natural for you to be one of the most heavily afflicted.

The disease had claimed your entire body, primarily concentrated in your legs, making them so weak it hurt just to move them, thereby rendering you bedridden. To make matters worse, the majority of your body, except for your genitalia, face, hands and neck, were covered in large, ooze-secreting sores that burned when exposed to air, covered in cloth, or touched in general. Your entire existence was that of misery and pain--this applied to both your mental and physical state.

Honestly, you were well aware your end was approaching. After all, no known cure for Geostigma existed, and no scientists were around to try and make one. Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of people had already succumbed to this terrible ailment; you would just be another corpse in the pile.

Such depressing thoughts were only natural of someone on their deathbed. As most people do when their lives are slowly slipping away from them, you began to recall some of your most beloved memories. Memories of your childhood, your happiest moments, your accomplishments, but more importantly, your memories of Sephiroth.

That beautiful, green-eyed, silver-haired angel had been the sun of your life; the atmosphere to your earth, the salt to your food. He was the most precious thing in the world to you, and just like that, he'd been ripped away. His death, combined with your contraction of Geostigma, sent you into a depressed spiral. There was only one thought that brought you comfort: He was in the Lifestream now, and therefore all around you, so technically you weren't dying alone; he was there too, silently watching over you. You wanted this fact to be true so badly, you forced yourself to believe it--not that there was anyone around to tell you otherwise.

Closing your eyes, you turned over in your bed, wincing when you felt sharp pains shoot throughout your legs and shoulders; your sores squelching under the weight of your decaying body. It hurt, so, so, much, the pain was enough to bring tears to your eyes, making you wanted Sephiroth by your side more than you ever did in your lifetime. He always knew what to do, what to say, or what not to say, and how to hold you so the pain would go away. You could picture it in your mind's eye, the way his would circle his arms around your torso; how he would press kisses to your forehead and shush you, reminding you of how much he loved you in just a few words. You could hear it even now, the timbre of his low, rumbly voice echoing in your ears.

"Do not be afraid. Sleep, for I am with you, and always will be."

Though he rarely used pet names in times like these, the gentle tone of his voice and soft caressing of his lips against your skin reminded you of how much he loved you in ways words never could.

You shivered, wrapping your blankets tightly around yourself, mentally cursing the coldness of your room. At the very least, you wanted to die in a nice, toasty room, perhaps by a blazing fire. As you tried to remember what comfort felt like, memories of Sephiroth cuddling you flitted into your mind. Snuggling with him always felt the best; his large frame constantly emitted warmth, much like a human heater; resting your head near his broad, warm chest was pure bliss. As you reminisced, you could have sworn you felt his presence surround you even now as you lay on a cold mattress in a freezing, heat-less room.

Small teardrops spilled forth from your eyes, the nostalgia of events long passed filling you with a profound sense of sadness you couldn't fully understand. You gripped your sheets tightly, screwing your eyes shut in an attempt to hold on to this soothing feeling that you hadn't felt in years.

You wished you could stay like this forever, wrapped safely in the arms of your dearest love. Your mind began to fog over; the burning pain of your Geostigma sores beginning to vanish as your mind slowly sank deeper and deeper into sleep. The further into the darkness you went, the calmer and more at peace you felt.

A small smile crept onto your face as you finally let go of your last threads of consciousness, glad to be able to depart in the tender embrace of some long dead memories.

[altocat]

THE FIRST SOLDIER: CHAPTER 6

It's time, folks! After five agonizing months of waiting, we FINALLY get a story update. And I'm here to recap for your convenience! So, spoilers below under the cut.

Story opens up ten days after Shinra reinforcements arrived on the island. They're building a reactor via a site dig. Glenn and crew have been watching Rosen's smoke for days now just in case.

Lucia remarks that Sephiroth did most of the heavy lifting in terms of prep. Glenn is getting ready to celebrate with their upcoming bonus. Sephiroth isn't interested in pay though according to him.

An engineer calls them over and tells them they need to go kill monsters in the area. When Glenn asks where Sephiroth is, the engineer tells him that he's out scavenging corpses and that it's kind of creepy.

Seph has apparently been going off on his own for a while. Lucia suggests they go look for him while they take care of the monsters.

Ugh. More filler monsters. And of course the level cap is trillions of numbers ahead that of the last chapter's. This fucking game smh.

The music on this section is nice. EC has a good soundtrack ngl. Better than it deserves, in my opinion.

After an incredibly tedious fight with a recolored ostrich monster, the gang comes across a shard of materia in the ground. This comes into play later.

They find Sephiroth digging around corpses at the old Rhadoran base. He clarifies that it might LOOK creepy but he's actually looking for the picture of his mother. Like most children with precious comfort items, he ended up dropping it somewhere and he's looking through the bodies to see if it's somehow under them.

So here's some clarification, the photograph is NOT a photograph so much as a locket/necklace that Sephiroth wears. So it's not in his front pocket, he's wearing it around his neck. Neat.

The gang offers to help him look for it, taking out filler monsters in between. Sephiroth mentions that he feels the need to protect the team as the leader. That's his job. There's some cute banter between Seph and the trio. Awww.

All the Rhadorans except Rosen are gone now. Matt keeps going on and on about their religion--Planetology. Lucia is unfamiliar with this concept and Matt explains the concept of mana and souls returning to the planet to Sephiroth.

Glenn feels REALLY guilty now about what they did to the Rhadorans, worried they'll just be forgotten since they're gone now. Kinda too late for that, bud. And now it's just Rosen left alone.

Hojo mention from Seph btw. Hojo told Sephiroth "No matter how logically you explain something, there will always be people who don't understand because they have a different view of the world."

When Glenn worries about the Rhadorans being forgotten, Sephiroth takes what he learned from Glenn earlier about compassion to heart, saying that the PLANET will remember them.

Glenn understands how important mana is now. It's life force, life energy. That's why the Rhadorans hated what Shinra was doing.

They can't seem to find the necklace anywhere. Sephiroth is glumly resigned to accept that it's gone for good.

Instead, thanks to Glenn's sudden moral dilemma, they decide to bury the Rhadorans as a means of "apologizing". Sephiroth eagerly offers to help.

While they're burying the bodies, the island starts shaking. The reactor dig is going to start soon. And THAT'S what will awaken the mana overflow Rosen mentioned earlier. They'll set off explosives that will start a chain reaction. Sephiroth says they're going to have to evacuate.

They're blocked by a bunch of branches. Seph finds the materia fragment from earlier and uses it to incinerate the area to make a path. Glenn gushes over how cool Seph is.

Seph cuts down a big tree to make a bridge too. Glenn thinks Seph is SUPER FUCKING RAD OKAY. Seph asks if he's impressed with his "cyborg powers" and Glenn says no, not wanting to hurt Seph's feelings again.

Seph says that he feels he can say anything to the group and that he doesn't want them to hold back. Glenn is in full support mode now and he and Seph seem very in sync with each other. It's very cute. They've gotten close during the gap.

They find another materia shard during a blocked path of rushing water. Sephiroth uses it to freeze the water to move across.

Seph is eager to get his team back to the chief engineer, but Glenn is worried about Rosen. He wants to see if there's a way to make sure Rosen's safe but Seph says there's no time. Glenn seems to be ready to ask Seph something but then drops it.

This section is called "Inseparable". They arrive at the helicopters. Glenn wants to delay the dig so he can warn Rosen in time. But they've already started.

Glenn gets agitated and then punches the engineer, who threatens to tell HQ. Glenn doesn't give a fuck. Matt and Lucia decide to support Glenn. Sephiroth doesn't stop them.

Lucia hijacks one of the choppers and kicks a soldier out after holding them at gunpoint. They're going to fly over to Rosen's Island with it.

A monster shows up just as shit starts to get crazy. It's Stamp the goblin-frog! He's huge and mutated because of the mako. Glenn wants to finish him off for good.

They take care of Stamp and the group is going to go rescue Rosen and Refu. The other chopper throws down a ladder for them for the evacuation but the trio is basically defecting.

Matt said Sephiroth isn't fired because the chief knows that it was the trio's idea, not his. But they're going to have to leave Seph behind so he isn't dragged into this.

Glenn tells Sephiroth to stay safe as the trio departs. Sephiroth is visibly hesitating on whether or not to accept the ladder or follow the group after they've left.

The trio gets ready to take off in their hijacked chopper. And Sephiroth. Is going. WITH them.

Holy fucking shit Sephiroth tried to defy Shinra asrdfghkjgfd just so he could stay with his friends. I'm gonna cry. Fuck, I already am. INSEPARABLE. AHHHHH.

Overall, a decent chapter. Much better than I was expecting. Babyroth is so endearing and it's clear he's now very attached to the trio. Even more than Shinra. Him just suddenly losing the picture/necklace is kind of bullshit but whatever. I guess he had to lose it somehow? Maybe it'll turn up again later.

Sephiroth's rebellion will obviously have consequences later.

[dykesferatu]

In the dream, still crystal clear in Cloud's mind despite the years in interim, he could feel her skin rending under the edges of his nails. The rage sliding along his nerves and veins turning his hands to claws as he tore at the delicate, translucent skin at her neck.

In the dream, Sephiroth was cold to the touch though she lacked the plasticine texture of every other chilled corpse Cloud had ever encountered, instead far softer and more tender than a monster of her stature had any business being. Her eyes then had held a bizarre, far-off spark too. The reflection of a reflection of light that, despite its distance, held a warmth.

"Please Cloud," she had begged as she pulled on his wrists, digging his nails deeper against her, "Harder. Make me feel it."

As though he needed her to ask him to tear her apart. As though the way his pulse pounded in his ears wasn't enough to make him wish he could dig all the way through to her bones, tear out her throat and split open her ribs. As though he didn't wish he could crawl behind her lungs and twist her spinal cord until she could tell him why it had to be him.

But the lines of red running over Sephiroth's bruised and bitten collarbone, disappearing in their trails between her breasts and under the lapel of her coat, had set Cloud's mouth watering.

He'd awoken gasping the first time and had steadfastly ignored then, and each time the dream had come since, the throb in his cunt.

This is, as one might expect, markedly harder in his current waking moment, the real flesh and blood of the woman who tore his life to bare studs trapped beneath him.

The thick hank of her silver hair wrapped twice and clenched tight in his fist is pulled taught. There are tears dripping from her sharp jaw. Cloud flexes his fingers once more around the scalpel in his right hand before pressing it in just through the translucent skin on Sephiroths ribcage to settle the blade firmly in the muscle stretched between her 6th and 7th rib.

She's shaking in a way Cloud might consider uncontrollable for anyone else, but Sephiroth is Sephiroth. She's special.

He moves the scalpel millimeters at a time, splitting the muscle fibers along the arc of her ribcage. They're in familiar territory, tearing each other apart with the intent to make something new of the parts. Sephiroth's deep voice is so ragged in her throat that Cloud can only make out his name for the familiarity of it.

Even more carefully than he cut, Cloud slips his finger behind the trailing edge of the scalpel. It's always something of a surprise to him, as a woman who has been run through by a sword more than once, how much resistance the body can put up to intrusion. He applies a little more force, just enough to bruise delicate membrane of the chest cavity. Just enough to draw one more cry, thin and pitched with ecstasy from Sephiroth as she slackens beneath him.

___________________________________

@gomacave

[put-me-out-of-my-destiny]

In my opinion, while I would like to see Nero unlock a Sin Devil Trigger in the future, I don't think he should ever have his own Devil Sword, or a devil arm of any kind for that matter.

In DMC4, the Devil Bringer allowed Nero to absorb demonic power from objects like the Evil Legacy, the Rusalka Corpse, the Sephirothic Fruit, and the Aegis Shield. And after he gets his powers back at the end of DMC5, he retains powers he gained from these objects, such as Snatch from the Legacy, and Hold from the Shield.

He also regains his Devil Trigger, one that comes with a proper transformation than that, even though he no longer has possession of Yamato. The presumption is that because Nero absorbed power from Yamato as well, he doesn't actually need it or any devil arm to activate a Devil Trigger. One could speculate about what other powers Nero shares with Yamato, but that's a whole other discussion.

I've speculated before that if Vergil gets a proper Sin Devil Trigger and Devil Sword, it should be the result of Yamato merging with the severed Devil Bringer (which it seems to have partially done already by the time of DMC5). It'd be funny if, just like with his Devil Trigger, Nero just figures out how to do that on his own. He has all the ingredients, the power is already inside him. His secret is character development.

[rivkae-winters]

Subterranean Sepulcher

Summary:

Sephiroth survives the Nibelheim incident only to be taken to the labs again. He is once again at Hojo's mercy with no end in sight this time. Then someone leaves the door to his holding cell open. When Sephiroth cannot escape upwards he goes down following a strange twinge in his chest deep below Midgar.

Fun fact that's also in the fic notes: I remember writing the outline and thinking this was nowhere near gay enough for a ship event... Then I re-read my draft and realized it sounded like some high concept film a man who thinks he's straight would make and claim represents 'human connection' or something like that.

Needless to say it came out plenty gay enough.

Also on Ao3

Sephiroth had been more elsewhere than in his own body since Hojo had fished him up from the bottom of the Nibelheim Mako reactor. The days flowed into weeks and the weeks flowed into months and months into years.

His Father had been upset at first, that much Sephiroth could vaguely remember. He'd been more... short of his faculties than in possession of them in the early days he spent in the new lab. 

The visit to the town of Nibelheim was a blur in his memory.

Almost none of the blur that he could recall was pleasant. There were some middlingly pleasant fantasies his mind inserted here and there though. He'd dreamed he'd found his mother. Her face from his photograph had been animated and smiling in his dreams. He'd also had a nightmare that he'd been led to her in the waking world only to find her mangled corpse in a mako tank.

Sephiroth would only accept that as a nightmare and nothing else. He saw it again every other night it felt like but still that's all it was. That needed to be all it was. He held the false pleasant dreams of her russet hair and pale skin closer all the more for it.

He also dreamed of Genesis. Really, he should consider it a nightmare considering they fought and while he couldn't quite hear the words they said he knew they were heavy and awful. The air bleeding betrayal into his mind. But it was Genesis- Angeal was dead and Zack was nowhere to be found so maybe Genesis really was the only one of them left truly alive.

Especially the only one of them with any semblance of freedom.

Genesis could fly himself away from the awful world to one that abhors them less. Sephiroth found himself clinging to the idea as one of the Professor’s technicians played with his nerve capabilities one day, the ulnar nerve exposed to open air. 

It felt nonsensical because he was still angry and hurt and bleeding from the hole their leaving had left in him. He felt like he was a child again, listening to Professor Gast's tapes over and over. Just like that man was no longer here and Sephiroth had even had his death confirmed: Genesis was never guaranteed any happiness. He was dying after all.

Sephiroth tried not to think about that too hard.

The isolation and the constant brain fog were easy to blame for imagining the subject of a very awkward and very unreciprocated 'teenage' crush happy. It was logical even, as much as Sephiroth could focus his mind in the present to think of what was logical these days.

The Professor had him again, only now Sephiroth wasn't an appreciated company asset. No, Sephiroth was an old shoe discarded far more quickly than he'd thought he'd be. He'd been declared killed in action in the Nibelheim mission- that much he was able to glean sometime after the one year mark.

He'd also dreamed of that town too. One second it was crisp cool mountain air and overly nosy townsfolk the next he was watching himself strike down civilians and set the town ablaze. That much Sephiroth knew wasn't a dream.

One of the lab technicians, a woman with a familiar accent, had asked him about it. Her friend was from Nibelheim apparently. Sephiroth had a hunch at that time, as their brief interactions continued, that she was her own 'friend'.

She never said a name and Sephiroth was too busy trying to not be aware of what she was doing to ask. Her presence hurt as he was forced into awareness when she was handling his maintenance and tests the Profesor considered beneath him by her constant address and acknowledgement of his presence. Her announcement of the days especially made it hard to drift- to lose his mind somewhere far away from his body among repeating dreams and nightmares far more pleasant than reality. 

She was gone after two weeks. 

Sephiroth had been fine with that as much as he allowed himself to feel anything. The blatant disgust that then morphed to pity when she interacted with him made him feel like he existed in all the wrong ways. When he existed his skin always felt too small and his metaphorical fangs too large and ready to bite something even though any ‘teeth’ he’d been able to sharpen had long been filed down upon his return. Sephiroth was only a decommissioned weapon here, kept around for further research and troubleshooting. The less he was aware of his state the easier it was to continue to draw breaths each day knowing he wouldn’t be allowed to stop. 

The woman who looked at him with fury that melted into gut-turning pity, had given him an unwanted gift: Nibelheim had burned four years before her coming. It was an anchor laid in his mind, an unwanted point of grounding that disrupted him even further. He tried to push himself to forget as much as he could but he never fully pushed knowledge from his mind.So he let other parts of himself slip a little bit further and a little more out of reach to compensate for it. Eventually ‘four years’ sounded less and less in his mind as the days flowed flowed flowed together again into a meaningless slurry of time passing him by and never taking him with it. 

He continued like that, drifting in and out of awareness and letting time bleed together as much as it desired to so he wouldn’t need to be there for it all. Safely away from the poking and prodding and even the gaps of nothingness in the dark that ate at what was left of his mind. Sequestered in the dark recesses of his mind, as much peace as he’d probably get the rest of his life. 

Then one day, with the faint swirling blare of alarms in the hazy background of his non-existence, Sephiroth’s cell door is left open. 

Something wicked and wild sweeps his awareness so carefully discarded back into his being in an instant.

He only has his enhancements and the fact that his cells do not die easily to thank for his legs not falling out from under him as he skitters to his feet. He has the fact that he was born a monster and will die one to thank for allowing him to break into a run as soon as the possibility of no more has pressed against the walls of his lungs. 

It’s not freedom, he has distanced himself so far from purpose and dreams and honor that he can’t remember the sensation at all, but the animalistic desire to not be beaten any longer. Sephiroth had been taught long ago that freedom is not just being out of the labs but living . Even as he runs, tasting a possible end to his misery, he can't find in himself the will to live again. He does not have wings to fly away from this world in search of another.

He doesn’t try to go up and out, his returned presence of mind prevents that disaster. That is where the scientists have fled and the one thing Sephiroth has known his entire life with the exception of one man is that wherever the scientists are is the opposite of where he wants to be. 

He initially plans to find one of the many holes ShinRa was always plagued with in their security. A place too large for its own good constantly springing new leaks as soon as the old ones were patched. Sephiroth would know. What feels like a lifetime ago he’d been one to potentially help patch them up. He skids to a stop as he reaches the end of the hall just before he hits a wall, the tile floor grating his bare feet from friction. The only thing other than the dead end is a locked door to his left. 

It feels promising and there is a small intoxicating twinge in the back of his mind that raises its hands to reach for him. 

He approaches a door at the far side of the room with a clean handle but dust in all the right places pointing to little use at all. The air behind it smells the freshest of the entire room though. Far too fresh a supply closet or something else stale and small so he rips it off its hinges rather than bothering with a keypad pristine from lack of use. The offensively bright screen flickers out, the taunting date of December 11th 0007 fades from existence just as he had five years and two months prior. 

A passage downwards meets his gaze as he peers into the darkness and the bits of Sephiroth returned to his mind knows he’s found something more extensive than a pigeon hole for a smoke break. 

The empty halls echo and his over sensitive ears let him know scientists are coming back to work. Sephiroth can hear the Professor’s voice above them all on the horizon.

He goes down, down, down- plunging into the unknown. It distantly occurs to him ironically that humans are meant to be scared of the unknown but all Sephiroth can feel is the blood pumping through his veins and his body moving like it was made to. He descends into the abyss as far as it will take him, an endless system of doors and corridors and broken electronic locks until he enters the bowels of hell he hadn’t even known existed. 

Sephiroth is not surprised he was unaware, his information on the science department’s many playgrounds were limited to only the ones he spent time in. He had never been permitted to know much more unless the Professor was feeling superior and gloating about something or another. Sephiroth had heard many of those as a child and he’s sure have been in proximity to many ostensibly spoken at him recently. The professor never cared for listening or attentiveness, he only wanted someone who would nod and make the right noises to make him feel good about his progress and Sephiroth had that down to an art through pain or misery or leaving his body to drift since he was a child . 

Then he feels it. He barely dodges a patrol of masked SOLDIERs with an insignia he’s never seen before, the first signs of life down in this place, as the yearn of going somewhere enters his blood. 

He tosses any notions of discretion to the wind, a purpose solid in his mind. He has to get there, he yearns for nothing more in his turning gut and underfed bones to get there. The adrenaline revitalizes his mind in a flurry of fluttering wings and fire closing in behind him and Sephiroth knows with a surety he’s not felt in years that he has to get to the source.

There are more SOLDIERs in his way, some of whom recognize him and others who don't. He feels the monster he was born to be as the sing-song familiar comfort of something wonderful pulls him downwards more and more. Avoiding them and outrunning them is a simple enough matter and when that fails he snaps one of their necks and pushes his will and energy into the Thundaga the SOLDIER had been carrying to great effect. Masamune is pushing in on the corners of his soul, she is faint yet there and ready but he needs distance and as much as he can get.

Sephiroth grips the materia close, artificial and middling quality but a weapon none the less, and continues running. The world fades by him with nothing else drawing him then the promise of something cooing and calling and so unlike that Nightmare that called itself his 'Mother' in its draw.

He continues downwards, downwards, downwards-

Sephiroth comes to a place where the floor has been smashed away from the wall and where the underworld he finds himself in opens up to the promise of something greater than purgatory. He jumps without a second thought and falls free through the air. Even if whatever is beckoning him will not welcome him, the water below him will. 

Sephiroth will not be taken back to the labs again today or ever. 

His side hits the water with a great crash although he feels only a small twinge of pain from breaking through the surface tension. The pool is deep and he considers letting himself drift downwards for only a split second. Because the call is there again and it is near and sweet and feels like home in a way Sephiroth used to dream of having every night. He kicks to the side of the pool and heaves himself up onto the side of the cave. The surgical gown barely clings to his form amidst the motion, adhering to him once above water.He walks the narrow line out of the water.  

His hair weighs down his neck and scalp tugging in a way that would have made the living Sephiroth wince. He is not alive though he is a wandering demon looking for salvation, deliverance, an end to suffering and would travel the world over. Besides he feels he exists in his body for the first time in over five years in a way that doesn't make him want to puke. His skin feels the right size for his muscle, bones, and sinew and after the slaughter up in the subterranean hell his fangs are sharp again and at home in his mouth.

He comes to the end of the line, a large cavern opens in front of him with a dull blue glow in the center and he is drawn deeper. 

Sephiroth wades through the still water towards the source of light in the darkness. He continues deeper, uncaring the jagged rocks at the bottom that teeter the edge of breaking skin. The water reaches his hips at the deepest point before he steps onto the raised mound of rock, eroded by water for countless years. The great source of light that sits before him holds someone in it and upon recognizing him Sephiroth wonders if there were any alarms or open doors at all. 

He wades back down into shallow water that only brushes the tops of his feet before he reaches a second rocky plateau. Sephiroth stands before the still peaceful body of what appears to be Genesis. He is different yet much the same with red and black and only missing the blue hidden behind closed lids. His face is a little older but he is vibrant and colorful even through the strange magic in a way that he isn’t in the nightmares. 

That he hasn’t been since he was at Sephiroth’s side.

Sephiroth follows the pull once more and reaches out to touch the strange spell suspended in a crown of stalagmites. The beguiling thing in the back of his mind that has been pulling him closer intensifies. Sephiroth’s heart sings in happiness when his hand connects with cool magic that has the unmistakable hallmarks of someone he lost too soon.

Before him Genesis- and this is Genesis not some rogue copy he is sure of that now- twitches. Blue eyes that once captivated his entire mind open and meet his own green through the magical looking glass. A look of alarm passes through Genesis’s face and Sephiroth is sure he must make quite the unpleasant sight, sopping wet in a bloody surgical gown, but all he can think of is the man before him. 

There is a twist of magic in the air and Sephiroth can only look up in awe as Genesis’s concern is consumed by fire inside the spell before dying down again to a blue. Immediately afterwards the spell glows the brilliant green of pure mako and expands slightly as if it will start to dissipate through the air or explode violently. He doesn’t move away though, even in the feeling of raw magic and mako taint this feels right and he does not wish to leave the cave for what awaits him in the waking world. Through the glow Sephiroth can see Genesis sink down, his eyes closed in concentration, and the old-old reminder to never touch a mage mid-cast is the only thing that keeps him from pulling the other man out and into his arms. 

As leather boots touch the ground just before his own bare feet, supple gloved fingers pass through the spell and lace with his own where he is still touching it. Genesis’s blue eyes open again and meet his own without a hint of disgust for their strange appearance after a non-existence of that being the only response. Genesis is here and he is whole and Sephiroth is not as sad as he should be that the other man clearly hasn’t flown to the freedom he so yearned for. 

“You look very unwell dear one,” Genesis’s voice is slightly hoarse from disuse but symphonic on Sephiroth’s ears all the same. The concern and care rest heavy in those eyes and pour forth from his mouth. There is a warmth Sephiroth’s never been able to quite place there too that fills his chest with a resonance. It’s something he hasn’t seen since well before Genesis had flown away from him and Angeal the first time. There is no malice or desperation or wanting something of him and his body like so many others before this time, there is only a slightly darker shadowed man he’d held dear but not dear enough.

“Last time,” Sephiroth barely manages to croak out, not even having the foresight to clear his throat, his days or weeks or months unused voice is like rocks dragged across each other. “That might have been my line,” Genesis gives him a small, tight smile full of attempted mirth as see through as the wind and brings their hands down to rest at their sides, still linked. Sephiroth’s mind scrambles through the fog for words thrown in anger in Nibelheim at the obvious gap in understanding there but Genesis and beats him to it.

“That is one way to look at praying for a death,” Genesis’s face twists over the words as they pass through his lips, regretting his own attempt at making light of heavy things before he can even finish it. Sephiroth’s mind is suddenly filled with clouded nightmares and visions of monsters in tubes and a name he’d been told was his mother’s over a door in the main chamber. 

There is Genesis too, graying hair before he’s even thirty and vibrant blue eyes depleted of saturation. He wants something of Sephiroth’s body just like so many before him even though he’s the one person still alive, un-skewered by a sword he trained, who had promised to never ask such a thing. Who had promised that Subject S would always be safe around him, clandestine but ultimately meaningless words whispered after a night terror. Sorrow and Rage and most of all a deeper Betrayal than Sephiroth had ever felt take over his mind humming in symphony with the buzz in the back of his head. He wishes death upon one of the people he had once defined his world by and walks away. Someone he loved .

“I am glad you did not rot.” Sephiroth shoves the croaked words through his lips with far more effort than he’s ever had to put into speech. Then again he’s not spoken more than needed by the technicians and the Professor for at least a year now. Genesis looks at him, that warmth- a type of adoration- in his eyes married with shame and regret and precisely pointed lips turn ruefully. The leather gloved hand not currently holding his reaches up to wrap around Sephiroth’s jaw, a dexterous thumb resting in the hollow of his cheek. 

“I do appreciate the sentiment,” His voice is as rich in adoration as his eyes and that is what Sephiroth’s mind clings onto to further leave fog filled phantom memories behind. “Still I could likely not have been more insensitive if I tried,” Genesis’s voice is quiet when he speaks again full of remorse and apology and resignation as it echoes off the water and the walls until they have both been washed clean by the sound waves. He is about to respond to accept the unsaid apology when chapped lips part again. “I am sorry.” Genesis’s eyes are bright and vulnerable and Sephiroth brings his hand up to mirror Genesis’s painfully gentle hold on him. His skin is warm and alive and sings underneath Sephiroth’s hold, his eyes glow blue even in the green mist of the strange suspended magic.

“I accept your apology,” The emotions he was feeling finally started to bleed into his voice as the jagged scrape on his throat faded to a slighter ease. He did not feel right forgiving something he could barely remember, but that was not the conflict at hand. The matter of Genesis’s initial leaving still hung in his stomach like a stone, the abandonment fresh in his throat even though now he was 

“Thank you, Sephiroth.” Genesis whispered, the quiet words surrounded them though once more. Blue eyes were looking at him with so much wonder as if he wasn’t really there, the thought of this being a flitting place his mind escaped too passed through again. Perhaps Genesis thought Sephiroth was as well a vision from being suspended in whatever he’d sealed himself in…

The silence hung between them for a small eternity. Genesis continued to stare in wonder and adoration with a biting notion of guilt or perhaps even insecurity that Sephiroth could see creeping across the man’s expression. Sephiroth internally balked at the idea of Genesis and insecurity in the same thought before pushing it away since the tower of cards in his mind would crumble if he thought over it more. 

“I’d thought,” Sephiroth broke the paper-thin piece and Genesis’s eyes were attentive and present once more. He wonders again even as Genesis is warm and hale and whole under his hand if this man is truly solid and real. “I’d thought you would have been able to fly away free.”

“A lovely thought,” Is all Genesis says at first, his lips becoming something far more morose and his eyes fading to some imminent distance again. “Though some things cannot be outrun.” Sephiroth watched as Genesis opened his mouth to say more before snapping it shut as he ruminated over what he wanted to say. “The price of being made whole was steep.” Eventually is what leaves his lips in a tone that is perfectly neutral in a way that is antithetical to every bit of Genesis’s authentic personality Sephiroth had ever seen. 

He desperately wants to ask though if it was worth it. That part of him still abandoned and betrayed by the two people he’d built his world of actually living around wants to know more than anything. The more rational part of him feels selfish for being offended still because this is not a situation that has left Genesis able to be alive any more than Sephiroth has been capable of such. Still though it smarts because there is no whole-ness that can fix him and freedom is a thing he’ll never know again to the point where he’d projected fantasies onto Genesis in his mind the same way he did his birth mother as a child. Genesis flying away to freedom, abandoning everything to be whole and free. His mother wanting nothing more than breaking him out from the labs, someone who is not just willing but will rescue him. Sephiroth had always run on hope when under stress it seemed, projecting onto others what he wishes he could do himself. 

He looks at Genesis’s eyes still far away and wants real hope that he can touch and hold and not just dream away about others living what he wants. The thought of this being a fiction presses again even as Sephiroth drags his thumb across Genesis’s proud cheekbone returning the ginger’s eyes to his. The intrusive thought is scrambling for attention as it threatens to escape the box he’d put it in. 

“Prove to me you are real Genesis,” Sephiroth lets out finally, trying to push as much of the torrent inside his mind into his words. Because his skin and sinew and bones feel right inside his body and that was the most unnerving thing about it all: feeling right . “Prove to me that I exist.” Genesis’s eyes are alight with that adoration and wonder again. He takes a small step closer so that he’s pressed up against Sephiroth and their breaths pull from the same source. 

Genesis’s eyes flash with the determination that had attracted Sephiroth to him in the first place, twin blue flames trapped inside a man. He breaks their hands apart and pulls Sephiroth down slightly, waiting to see if he wants to escape to flee somewhere or somehow. 

He doesn’t.

Genesis presses their lips together and Sephiroth lets his eyes slip shut to mirror the man pressed against him. He mirrors Genesis once again and pulls him closer into their embrace. Sephiroth feels alive, and here, and real . His blood is pumping through his veins and his chest is singing in a most delightful way. Genesis breaks them apart and Sephiroth feels like he might devour him with the way blue eyes are boring into his soul. 

He feels like he might not mind.

“So,” Sephiroth lets out, the thought that was meant to follow fleeing his mind in the rush of vigor. He feels more properly reanimated than the shadow of a dead man he’s been in the labs.

“So?” Genesis practically purrs back, the determination flashing and something approaching contentment in eyes that still hold a good deal of weariness. 

“What are you doing here Genesis?” Sephiroth says, because he is here and Sephiroth is here and they both exist so why-

“I’ve a duty to fulfill,” Genesis starts his mouth taking a cryptic tilt. “I must wait for it,” Sephiroth was about to press further when Genesis reached the question at last. “This cave is simply a regrettable incidental.” Sephiroth can tell by the way his mouth tilts and his brows come together just a little that it is a longer story than that.

He is no mystery, he knows. Genesis knew when he saw him from whence he came. Some small childlike part of him that fears the color white still appreciates it not being voiced. He will not pry into something that seems to distress Genesis in turn. 

They stay like that for another blur of past time, half in and half out of an embrace. The sparkling green light above them still suspended, whatever process still paused. Genesis’s hand falls to his shoulder after a time and Sephiroth cannot bring himself to mirror it. 

The pounding of feet echoes from the far mouth of the cavern. 

Sephiroth pulls himself further out of Genesis’s arms, blood rushing and his fangs ready to bite. Masamune is there pressing against his soul- she sings for him to call her as-

Genesis’s hand lands on his shoulder, firm and steady but not a grip. Sephiroth could pull away and face the approaching threat like his instincts are begging him too still, Genesis is not keeping him here. He turns to face the other instead. 

“Will you wait with me?” Genesis says with a voice that is both confident and determined yet also soft and warm. Sephiroth knows he is missing something, some hidden message he had not gleaned but in that moment even the pounding footsteps of those who would take him back up to death and ruin fade away. 

“Yes.” Falls from his lips, the simplest choice he’s ever made. 

Genesis’s gloved hand casts off the beyond soiled surgical gown as a single black wing erupts from his right shoulder in a flurry of feathers. Perfectly coordinated, ever the showman when he wanted to be. He holds out a hand for Sephiroth to take and when he does he pulls the other closer to him as if they were dancing. Genesis’s feathers are surprisingly soft as his wing wraps around Sephiroth’s back, connecting them even further. 

When chapped lips he’d fantasized about for so long as a living man connected with his once more it feels like he’s finally found home that mythical place he’s always been denied. 

When they break apart, eyes meet once more before shutting together.

They will wait.

[notimeliketoday]

Northern Crater Illusion (Tifa version)

I know people's been saying something about this part in like forever especially in the OG but I finally get the courage and spite to write my own take. That's what I get staying on twitter I guess.

(You best believe I will post this there but on concentrated amount - character limit is only the blue checkmark's friend on that island.)

Most specifically I want to have a closer look on how Sephiroth pulled his attack using this *truth* that he and Tifa share and how this translates to Tifa's own personal conflict with Sephiroth himself.

Yeah, got so tired in that Sephiroth hates Tifa because of her interference to his plans for Cloud and the only one who can fix him takes.

No, fam. That's what the Rebirth seem to imply to y'all but Sephiroth already hates Tifa in OG separate from Cloud. (Or does he?). Heck, him leaving his Masamune beside her father's corpse is a literal taunt daring her to go after him and use his weapon to inflict damage to his person. This is before Cloud made himself known by stabbing him due to his own grief by the way.

Even with all this, we see he doesn't really seem to care to remember the name of who killed him until Cloud had to point it out in Junon.

CLOUD had to point it out. His KILLER has to tell him his name just to make him remember.

Tifa though?

Getting talked to so intimately with faux kindness - the very same treatment he now shows Cloud in Rebirth, imagine that.

Now let's also remember that this is the OG and therefore any trappings of Rebirth's new plot doesn't exist here because this is the beginning of it all.

Anyway, I revisited this scene because of an itch urging me (it's the spite) and a thought suddenly occurred to me.

If we remove Cloud's side and trappings in that part of the illusion (basically all things Cloud) and look at this from Tifa's perspective as a standalone thing for her own character, it paints a very clear picture of Sephiroth attacking her.

People always miss this because Cloud once again overshadowed Tifa's own trauma and unresolved conflict with Sephiroth as the one more openly attacked in this scene.

Let's look at Sephiroth's lines:

The lie has been set. Obviously Tifa won't let this unanswered if she could help it. So this is her response:

With Sephiroth's response to this being the first images I posted above.

It's been made clear how extremely pressured Tifa was at this scene especially when Cloud reveals he hinges all his faith in her while suffering her own trauma again AND attacked by their enemy.

It wasn't just Cloud Sephiroth gaslighted in this scene.

That's what this part is trying to show us and regardless of who gets attacked here the outcome is the same: Cloud is just an illusion created by Jenova using memories of people, most especially Tifa.

Sephiroth doesn't hide his attacks to her at all and it astounds me how everyone who played this game back then believed only Cloud was dealt a great mental blow. (Most of y'all are kiddies I guess that also tracks.)

Tifa actually had it much worse!

She was so overwhelmed from it all she accidentally made the wrong move of answering Cloud in the negative:

When I said she's under tremendous pressure it isn't just because of reliving her trauma and carrying the burden of Cloud's mental state alongside her own increasingly damaged psych.

It is the fact that Cloud wasn't the only one relying on her affirmation - or lack thereof - to validate which one was speaking the "truth". Sephiroth was also using her to confirm his claims and he knew very well he's got the upper hand to the "truth" she has known, all the while gaslighting her that it IS the only truth. There's even a picture to prove it!

This is not the picture but this is also that picture.

Of course, Sephiroth made sure to include her into the story. She's not part of it simply because she was there but because according to his statement..... her memories are part of Jenova's knowledge used to make *Cloud* - the failed clone.

The Cloud who by Seph's own words is just a construct of Hojo after Nibelheim's burning. A clean slate born from collective memories thanks to Jenova.

The sheer implications behind these statements are our clue to the underlying conflict that exist between Tifa and Sephiroth outside of Cloud. That the hatred is not a one-sided thing, and just because it isn't readily understood why it exist doesn't mean it isn't present.

Sephiroth drives the knife further to twist the mental wounds even more. Tifa being the one to carry the most burden of all:

Now here's a pretty interesting thought: a girl who is just plain ordinary is important enough to have Jenova's effort in molding a clone after her own desires - her childhood friend. Sephiroth is basically admitting he's got one special clone just for her. (He even gave her one in Remake but that's a slightly different story).

Ignoring the fact that Cloud is not a construct it still makes you wonder: why use her for that lie? Why her in particular?

(We are using Tifa as our center focus for this so I'm going to exclude the "she's Cloud's childhood friend reasoning. This is not about him.)

Then it can be answered if you look at it as his own way of tormenting Tifa - using a clone imbued with her memories.

A mutual on twit said that maybe because she's the one who the group trusts the most, however more than half the party wasn't there yet when *Cloud* (who Sephiroth consistently claims is just his clone) appears in front of her on that bench.

AVALANCHE as it was at that point doesn't have anyone else with a connection to Cloud.

So it goes to show she is the target of said clone's manifestation.

That is, if we believe the lie Sephiroth weaved and take it as he said it at face value, which definitely is what his claim would be to Tifa who can't refute it, especially because apparently *Cloud* really did show signs of "clone behavior" when they first met but the tech limit back then doesn't show us how it should be like to its fullest extent.

(As someone points out here: https://www.google.com/amp/s/hartofhearts.tumblr.com/post/665525778591694848/the-implications-of-tifas-familiarity-with-marco/amp) My phone isn't cooperating 😭

How could she when his "truth" matches exactly everything she knew five years ago? How could she say he's wrong when Cloud's behavior was suspect when they met for the first time in years after Nibelheim (and for her part after he left for SOLDIER)?

She tried refuting but it's clear she has her own doubts about him as well, as she couldn't continuously defend Cloud from Sephiroth's persistent claim about his current identity.

By gaslighting Cloud he doesn't exist, he also gaslights Tifa into thinking her real childhood friend is gone and it's all just in her head now.

Sephiroth KNEW so well she wanted to see Cloud five years ago but didn't see him and use that to his own advantage. It's why this is so effective a gaslight to both.

As far as Tifa knew, the last time she saw Cloud was when he left to join Soldier. This Cloud's fate is unknown to her, maybe he died or maybe he forgot about her and all such insecurities Sephiroth could use with that solidify his claims that he was all " Aw, poor Tifa. Waiting for someone who never came. Here, Jenova's made you a clone with your memories of that boy to play with you."

That's what it looks like if we only see this scene through Tifa's eyes.

Again, taunting her in the same vein as when he first did leaving Masamune besides her father's body.

Why would he do so if Tifa didn't caught his attention in the first place?

Sephiroth is clearly playing around with her and toys with her emotions just as clearly as he attacked Cloud.

He just couldn't break her like he could him no matter how hard he tried because Tifa's mental fortitude is so strong.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #53

I heard today that you lost your necklace. I heard that you spent a lot of time looking for it by yourself. I heard that the people nearby, who didn't understand, assumed that you were just being strange and creepy and "looting corpses".

I understand the thing that happens when I am trying to do something, and other people assume I'm crazy or just a creep of some kind. Seeing the Shinra workers at Rhadore speak about you that way reminded me of a time when I was younger, and I brought into school an artist's mannequin that I painted, to show my high school art teacher. The other children, already wary of me, didn't understand, and chattered maliciously about me, assuming that I was not quite right in the head. I have a lot more stories about this sort of thing - trying to do something wholesome, only to have others misunderstand and assume that I'm creepy and weird. The fact of the matter is that people can be insecure, and when insecure people don't understand something, their first instinct is usually to mock it. It doesn't have anything to do with the person being mocked; they're just collateral damage in the other person's war against themselves.

I'm sorry you were bullied as a boy. And I'm sorry that your upbringing was such that you didn't think to ask for help to look for your lost locket. It's hard when we don't quite fit in with other people; I and lots of other folks from my world understand that feeling very well. But I'm glad that Matt, Lucia, and Glenn helped you once they realized what you were trying to do (even if they, too, initially thought you were "looting corpses" when they saw you).

I heard that you didn't find your necklace, though. I know you said that "you can accept that it's gone", but I don't think that's true at all, given your body language and facial expression. And now, anyone who has paid attention to you understands very well why, when you're troubled, you instinctively reach for your chest even years after the loss of the necklace.

Sephiroth… I don't know what the locket you lost looked like. I wish I did. But all the same, we of my world have the capacity to reproduce the image you carry with you. And so I did. And I have the capacity to make jewelry. So today I went out and got the supplies to do that. Here:

...If you can come grab it up somehow, it's yours. Impossible, I know. But I'll keep it safe with me, anyway. Or perhaps I'll run into those very important people again - the same people to whom I gave my first letter to you and the Tree of Life materia I made for you. If I do, I'll ask them if they can send this along to you as well.

In the meantime, I can show you how I made it.

I started with a simple locket. I had several to choose from at the place I went to, but I am partial to trees (that might be obvious, since I like to weave them), and I wanted to give you something that would allow you to see the picture even when the locket is closed, so I selected this:

There's no glass there, though; it's just an open piece of metal. I know sometimes you are in the rain or in the mud, and I didn't want the picture inside to get damaged. So I cut out a small, transparent piece of thin, sturdy plastic to protect the image.

In order to do that with any precision, first I made an impression of the inside of the locket on a piece of paper, like so:

See the impression, there, on the lower part of the image, on the paper?

From there, you trace the impression on a piece of plastic, like this:

Then, you use a precision knife to cut it out. I'm dyspraxic, so using one of those is a bit dangerous for me, haha! So I took it very slowly:

I used the outline left behind to trim the photo, and put it into the locket:

From there, I cleaned up the outline of the plastic a little bit, trimmed it to fit, and stuck it over the picture. You can tell that the plastic is there because it reflects the light:

I tried to position it so that the trees would frame her face. The shadow makes it look kinda weird, but I promise you that it looks nice otherwise:

I selected this chain to go with it:

I cut a length of the chain that seemed reasonable, and put a tiny metal circle on one end, like this:

From there, I had to put the clasp on:

To put on a clasp, first you put another metal circle on the other end, and then you put the clasp around the metal circle, too.

Then you pinch it closed with a tool. And the rest is history:

I think it sits at a reasonable location on the chest, but you're taller than me, so... I dunno. You're not here (because obviously), so I can't exactly check to make sure the length works well for you.

In any case... you're left-handed. So I made sure to put the clasp on the left-hand side so that it'd be easier for you to use. And... don't worry; I wore it only for a moment, just to make sure the length of the chain is reasonable. It is yours, so although I'll carry it with me, it's meant for your neck, not mine.

I know that it doesn't replace the one you lost. But... I wished you didn't have to be sad. So here you go. I hope you like it.

I guess that just about wraps up today's letter. As part of my adventures today to get the supplies to make this, I also went and got pumpkin seeds without shells. It's time for me to make pumpkin soup. This, too, is for you.

Don't wander around thinking that you're not loved. Don't wander around thinking that you're not cared for. Don't wander around thinking that you're not seen and heard for exactly who you are. Because I'm right here. And my world is filled with others who are just like me, and they can understand you and care about you just as easily as I can. You're not alone. So stay safe out there and make good, kind, and loving choices.

Expect another letter tomorrow. It will be pumpkin-soup-flavored. Count on it.

Your friend, Lumine

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Elden Ring: New Challengers

In silence, she waits

The Empyrean Malenia, the Blade of Miquella lay slumbering, lost in dreams of writhing red and unalloyed gold, twisting and fighting and tearing out each other's foundations. Her stricken skin, this crumbling bark, she waited.

Waited for Miquella.

Footsteps break the silence. Someone passes through the golden light. Somone comes to challenge her.

Malenia: I dreamt for so long...

*she rises from her rest, reaching for her prosthetics*

Malenia: My flesh was dull gold... and my blood rotted.

*she grabs her prosthetic arm*

Malenia: Corpse after corpse I left in my wake...

*she attaches the arm with a definite thunk*

Malenia: As I awaited... his return.

*Malenia rises and seizes her helmet, placing it upon her head.*

Malenia: ...Heed my words. I am Malenia. Blade of-

*she is cut off as the challenge rushes forward, sword drawn. He is so fast, Malenia barely has time to block his blow. The strike is so strong she can feel the reverberation up her bones.*

???: An empty title, shackled to a petulant child, playing at divinity.

*the challenger leaps away, alighting in the middle of the boss room, sword pointed at her*

???: It's time someone taught you what true power is. Now... heed MY warning.

*though her eyes are blind, Maelnia can hear the rustle of feathers, and feels the rising pressure of power*

Sephiroth: I am Sephiroth, the Angel of Death. And I am your Reckoning.

*silence falls for a long moment, before they flash forward, blades sparking with every strike. For the first time since Radahn, Malenia is challenged by a foe.*

*for the first time since Radahn, she is AFRAID*

[rottenpumpkin13]

It’s time to upgrade the vehicle choice to the company helicopters. AGSZC and the Turks + Rufus, who is the best, the worst, and the one who can fly it but can’t land it.

• Sephiroth is an excellent pilot, probably the most competent you'll find. He learned to fly helicopters when he was very young, has a knack for handling even the toughest situations, and his composure and precise maneuvers make him the go-to pilot in any crisis.

*Sephiroth is flying the helicopter*

Lazard: You're going a little too fast.

Sephiroth: Have you ever considered crashing a helicopter, faking your own death, and then living on a deserted island with stray cats until you can repurpose the helicopter’s parts to build a weapon for exacting revenge on your enemies?

Lazard: NO?

• Genesis boasts that he's the best pilot around and can indeed fly fairly well. But he requires intense focus and hates any distractions. He will snap at anyone who tries to talk to him while he's flying. ....scratch that, it depends on the topic.

*In the helicopter, Angeal sneezes*

Genesis: DON'T TALK TO ME! I WILL FLY US INTO THE FUCKING SUN I SWEAR TO THE GODDESS! THEY WILL BE FINDING VESTIGES OF OUR CORPSES FOR YEARS! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?

Angeal: I think you should scream less.

*Genesis abandons the control*

Genesis: Did you just say loveless? Because I was thinking about the beauty of 'world's end' in act one, and—

Angeal: WE'RE FALLING

• It's a mystery how Angeal passed the pilot test, and even he's baffled why they keep entrusting him with the helicopter. He wishes they'd stop assigning him flying duties.

*Angeal is flying the helicopter*

Angeal: Are you sure I should be flying this thing?

Sephiroth: Of course. You're the responsible one.

*Angeal is flying the helicopter in circles*

Sephiroth: I trust you to land this helicopter responsibly.

*Angeal misses the helipad completely and is now doing zig zags*

Sephiroth: I value your responsibility.

*They are literally upside down*

Sephiroth: Land the helicopter, Angeal.

Angeal: LaNd tHe HeLiCoPtEr AnGeAl—WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M TRYING TO DO?

*And now they're flying into the side of the building*

Sephiroth: Meet the goddess.

• Zack is completely bewildered as to why no one trusts him to fly a helicopter. Sure, he might have driven a car into a ditch once, and maybe he accidentally set a motorcycle on fire, but he's confident in his flying skills! He insists he's super competent and is always ready to prove it—just ask anyone (except Tseng. Tseng hears "Zack Fair" and "helicopter" in the same sentence and has a nervous breakdown).

*In the helicopter*

Zack: Thanks for coming with me. For some reason, the other guys are too scared to fly with me.

Cloud, wearing a helmet, extra padding, and holding a rosary: WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WE CRASHED! WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN!

Zack: Are you dead?

Cloud: No, but—

Zack: Success.

• Cloud's piloting skills are on par with Sephiroth's....though no one knew this until the first time he flew a helicopter.....Cloud doesn't have a license....people are confused and scared.

*Cloud is flying the helicopter*

Sephiroth: Strife, your piloting skills are excellent. Where did you learn to fly like this?

Cloud: Oh, I never learned.

Sephiroth: But you're flying the helicopter.

Cloud: Nothing gets past you, does it, sir?

Sephiroth:

• Rufus is adept at flying helicopters, but he rarely flies them because he has pilots and the turks to fly him anywhere he wants. He's also very stubborn.

Tseng: Sir, you might want to slow down a bit.

Rufus: I know what I'm doing, Tseng. I'll have you know that I fly better than most birds.

*Rufus doesn't avoid the incoming flock of birds and nearly crashes the helicopter into the building*

Rufus: ......

Tseng: They heard you.

[hollowingearth]

Yesterday was Rebirth's Ultimania release day! And... it was a lot calmer than I expected lol? I've never been active in the FF7 fandom before even though I got into it ever since Remake dropped so seeing everyone acting like it would be doomsday and complete hell on earth made me worried. Maybe I just curated all my feeds a lot to avoid the sort of person who incites those fights? I hate having to do that though because I genuinely like seeing different opinions/interpretations than mine but so much of it comes across as straight up petty in this particular fandom.

Generally, I dislike the penchant this fandom has to rely on Word of God for literally any interpretation for whatever is presented to us. It's a bit insane, actually, because Death of the Author seems to not exist at all and usually, when that's the case, it's because you can see the Hand™ moving the pieces purposefully and not allowing the characters to grow into their own but here it's more like the audience simply won't let it die, even if it's corpse is begging them to. Square Enix, of course, is willingly profiting off of it (tho I wonder just how much the ultis sell lol) .

I think that's why the RE Trilogy seems to be so interested on a metatextual discussion. This time around the Ultimania didn't really reveal anything that interesting and/or surprising overall (other than Elena being 18!!! like HUH????? wdym she's only 2 years older than Yuffie please be serious) BUT it did make me a lot more hopeful for Aerith's ending in Pt. 3 than the game itself haha. I've seen some thoughts floating around about how faitful it will be and I genuinely think they must end it on a different note than the original.

You see, I don't even think the original had a bad ending? It's bittersweet, yes, but that's sort of the point? People die but life prevails, you must go on and leave your past behind. The compilation, though, just retconned that, from my understanding. Now humanity is gone in 500 years after the ending, Geostigma happens and our protagonists become suicidal after the events of the game. Cloud's parting words "I think I can meet her... there" are cast upon a new light and it's not a hopeful one. Though, I think most allarming is Lifestream White and Lifestream Black, where we see both Aerith and Sephiroth condemned to an eternity of loneliness fighting and avoiding each other in the lifestream.

[wandringaesthetic]

Part of the reason I am obsessed with Sephiroth beyond liking the way they look and Gender is probably they are one of the first/only video game characters I Feared, and the game sets that up very very well. I mean, there is the trail of blood and corpses in the Shinra building, for starters, and all the wild ass shit your party says about them when you find Masumune buried in Pres. Shinra’s back (”no one has ever seen him bleed or cry” etc.), and the Midgardsormr impaled on the tree and just sort of generally being a Legend. In the way that video games go I knew I was going to be fighting Sephiroth in the end and brother, I did not believe I was going to be able to win.

And the sword! No one else is supposed to be able to wield that sword. I admit in a world that also contains Cloud’s buster sword and other real world impossible weapons it doesn’t feel like as big of a deal (though Cloud and other experiments and SOLDIER alumni are also supposed to have superhuman strength) but that thing is LONG and they wield it mostly one handed. It’s not just the upper body strength required, it’s the balance and finesse and full body strength it would require?? 

(Tangent: It’s why I kind of dislike it in Remake and in Advent Children where we are having all these extremely aerial and 2x impossible dbz fights. Animate them on the ground! I want to feel the impact!)

In the Nibelheim flashback you fight that dragon that is bigger and meaner looking than most of the enemies you’ve fought so far in the game and Cloud barely damages it (iirc level 1 Cloud might hit it for 0 HP) and Sephiroth one shots it! This being one of the first RPGs I ever played I wasn’t paying attention to Cloud’s level 1 or Sephiroth’s level 50 or realizing that any of your party members at that level could do the same. I just thought “holy shit.” And Cloud says “he is far stronger in reality than in any story you may have heard about him.” Like, I am TELLING you, I MET the guy, and all the stories are true AND THEN SOME.

Even the HAIR. That shit is totally impractical. Put it in a ponytail. But everyone is so out of their league that their ridiculously luscious locks getting in their face couldn’t even begin to be an impediment to them beating your ass.

And the by now signature “impaling you and lifting you in the air on the tip of the (ridiculously long) sword with one hand.” That’s not just lifting a grown human person above your head one-handed. That’s a lever, that’s effectively multiples of that weight. I’m pretty sure it’s physically impossible irl.

They are THE guy, they are the ABSOLUTE, and that is hard to sell but I bought it in 1999 and I buy it now. I forget about it until there is new Sephiroth footage and then IT ALL COMES CRASHING BACK TO ME with lifting Tifa over their head by the sword hilt like it’s nothing. I am smitten,  I have a PROBLEM, it is a DISEASE, it is INCURABLE.

[altocat]

I'm new here and Sephiroth's mother complex is so interesting

I agree! I personally think it's one of his most interesting aspects as a character.

Really, it adds to the duality of his personality. On the surface, Sephiroth is seemingly all-powerful, all-confidence, and all-composure. Inwardly though? The guy's a mess. His emotional needs have been effectively stunted since infancy. He has power and fame and decade's worth of clout under Shinra. And what does he want even more than that? His mom. It's an aspect of his character that they're really starting to dive deeper into, whether that was through First Soldier or miscellaneous depictions of his downfall to madness. Sephiroth's mother complex is what helps him stand out from other villains to me. He is an incredibly dangerous force of nature but he is head over heels devoted to Jenova, desperately reaching for something he never really received as a child and yet, in an ironic twist of fate, not receiving the fulfillment he thinks he's getting. Jenova's consciousness has yet to be confirmed. For all we know, Sephiroth is merely imposing his desires onto a faceless corpse.

And he doesn't care. Because THIS is what he wanted. THIS is what he was craving. And he will do unspeakably vile things in Jenova's name just so he can take advantage of her legacy, wear the title of "son" like a badge of honor. It's creepy and twisted and incredibly messed up. But that's part of the mechanics that churns Sephiroth's story so neatly. It's all layered under the surface. But it's an important piece of who he is.

[holly-fixation]

A Divine Plan: Part 2

Summary: Sephiroth, after his Remnants failed, pulled himself back through the lifestream for one more attempt at dragging Cloud to his knees. By accident, in his search for something desperate and weak, he pulled out two: the blonde just after experimentation began, and himself as he began reading the false truths below Shinra manor. With these two captured, he couldn’t help but wonder ‘why rule the universe as just one god?’ Why not break his former self into something useful for him and Mother while slowly torturing the boy?

The better question: why not? 

Inspired by @altocat and @errantnight in this post. (Warning: The post spoils everything once you get to the second reblog)

...

A few moments passed after their captor vanished before either of them dared to speak. Cloud clutched his shoulder and turned slightly away from the silver soldier. Sephiroth gave him time to adjust, but he also looked the boy over to be sure he had no open wounds. Cloud’s shoulder was probably bruised, which was much easier to wait out than a broken bone. Judging by how he was moving, that assumption could be fact. 

“...what am I supposed to know…?” Sephiroth asked softly, earning a concerned glare. He turned away. 

Cloud took a deep breath before looking at one of the walls. “You…-”

“What happened after I went to the basement of Shinra Manor…?” He specified a place for the boy to start. 

Another breath. “You spent days down there, reading all their books. You never slept. You didn’t eat. The lights in the basement never went out. And then…”

Sephiroth waited silently.

Cloud shook his head, going quiet for a few seconds.

The silver soldier sighed. He gave the boy a moment before speaking sadly, not a single word stabbing through, only utter despair in his deep voice, “I don't understand why this is painful for you…” He was the one with his world falling apart. He was the one who knew he Wasn’t. Even. Human. 

Despite the intention, it gave the boy enough flames to burn the truth out of his throat, to scar the truth on Sephiroth's mind. “You burned my home to the ground. You killed my mother. You tried to kill…” He turned away, growing quiet again as his memories attacked him. 

Sephiroth sat still as a statue, waiting for the cadet to explain in his own time. They absolutely still had time. No where close to an hour had passed. 

“You were chasing after… something. You didn't say what you found in those books. You only killed everyone as a result.”

The silver soldier looked down, both to hide from the boy’s gaze and to scan the ground for any cracks or weaknesses to use to their advantage. “...How did you kill me?”

Cloud went silent, terrified of answering the question. 

Inhuman eyes flicked to the tube leading to the shattered glass of a freed creature. “You said it was there, correct…?”

The cadet nodded. 

“In this room bearing my mother’s name…?” His voice nearly cracked from the painful implications alone. 

The boy swallowed hard, thinking very carefully about the words leaving his mouth, “There was a creature in that tank… You kept calling it ‘Mother’... But it was just the corpse of a monster that barely looked human…” He steeled his gaze to the Silver Soldier. “You lost your mind. And you acted… exactly like he did…”

“You say that like I become a different person.”

“...you do…” The statement stung them both. “Something tells me Zack knew that too…”

Zack. Sephiroth hadn't even thought of his comrade. Though now, he was genuinely thankful that wherever the puppy was, it was hopefully better than this. 

Cloud's explanation continued anxiously, hesitantly, for the remaining hour. The burning of Nibelheim. The people he killed. The creature he decapitated. The stab through his heart in one last attempt to drag him down to the abyss of failure. Everything. Sephiroth needed to understand each detail, but he found himself subconsciously denying the more… other worldly and unnatural changes. 

Monster. Ancient. Cetra. Human. It didn't matter what he was biologically, not this much. Not enough to justify suddenly burning the village down without direct orders from Shinra. Not without another force. In theory. 

Cloud mentioned he talked to himself during the fire and the murders, calling out to a faceless creature. 

What could that possibly be…? 

He wasn't given long because the corrupted doppelganger appeared before them once again. Sephiroth immediately stood protectively in front of the cadet, and the cadet barely moved as he pushed his back to the wall and tried to keep his eyes on the maniac. 

“Do you understand now?” Gods that voice was far too calm and controlled, mocking them with its existence alone.

“I know what you did,” He spoke harshly, not allowing a hint of emotion to infect his words, concealing all weakness in any way he could. “What I would do if I read those reports, but… That doesn’t justify what you’ve become.”

The other one chuckled, its voice mocking as if speaking to a child. “Of course it doesn’t.” 

What? He couldn’t stop his confusion. Even if all he did was knot his brows ever so slightly, he couldn’t hide it from himself. 

“Those invasive reports and data collections of ‘The Jenova Project’ were mere embers. They didn’t ignite the flame.”

Cloud gave the one protecting him a concerned and confused look. 

“Ah.” The doppelganger called their attention back. “You don’t have those memories yet, do you, Cloud?”

The words ‘I don’t know’ strayed completely from his tongue and all he could do was shake his head in denial. ‘Those memories’? Like they were separate from his own?

“On the seventh day in the manor, Mother spoke.”

Spoke?

“And for the first time in years, everything became clear. The goal to save her. Our plans for the planet. The waste of space to trudge through to get to her. The village that let her suffer.” The fond look in its eyes was terrifying as it slowly locked onto Sephiroth. “I know you can put the rest together. With time.”

He stared back with bewilderment in his cat-like eyes. He couldn’t make complete sense of anything this copy threw at him. 

“Until then, I believe the young cadet accomplished his task.” A long katana appeared in its hand and it casually tossed the weapon to its younger self. 

He caught the blade without hesitation, instantly feeling the incorrect weight distribution. Its sharpness was greatly lacking, and the length wasn’t straightened either. This was not his blade. He’d barely consider it a sword at all.

“I’ll give you a choice.” Both the SOLDIER and the cadet held their breaths. “Either I all but tear the boy apart in two minutes, or you torture him for five.”

Cloud instantly curled up, cowering away from both silver soldiers. 

Sephiroth tried not to portray his thoughts. He knew he was perfectly capable of killing Cloud without a weapon. Physically capable. If this thing’s goal was to break them, longer sessions of torture could expedite the process. Cloud was only a cadet. He wasn’t trained with any kind of mental fortitude against attacks like this. But was he willing to take the risk that Cloud could recover with a blade in less time than this dark copy could barehanded in two?

“Do it…” Cloud spoke weakly, his head down and away as he hid from their coming reactions. “Two minutes… I can make it…”

Sephiroth’s eyes immediately snapped to the boy. “The shortened time will not protect you-”

“It’ll be less…” 

“No, it won’t. I refuse to let you-”

“So you’ve made up your mind?” The monster didn't even acknowledge Cloud's input. Only Sephiroth was left to make the decision. 

Cloud would hate him after this if he went against his wishes. He couldn't afford to make any new enemies. He needed Cloud on his side, even as a liability. This boy was the only ally he had. 

A slow grin curled on the dopple's face the moment it realized his choice. Yet it waited for a verbal answer before approaching the boy. 

* * * 

Sephiroth refused to play the madman’s game. He protected Cloud every moment he was on his feet, despite the ease with which this monster threw him down. Thank the gods it seemed to keep its word. It truly did leave after only the short time it arranged. 

Thus its pattern began. 

It appeared. It taunted them. It gave Sephiroth the choice to torture the blonde himself. Once completed, it materialized a meal for them and disappeared in its wake. 

It wanted them alive, but neither one of them could build a strategy around that desire. Cloud mentioned using a hunger strike to get its attention. Sephiroth shot daggers at him and stated that all this copy needed were a tube, a funnel, and a liquid meal. Cloud didn’t know anything about force feeding, but the horrors Sephiroth explained in detail stirred an invasive weight in his stomach. He did not suggest anything nearly that rash again. 

But it was difficult, considering Sephiroth took it upon himself to torture Cloud.

That doppelganger nearly killed him that first day, despite the deal. Cloud wanted to separate the two Sephiroths in his mind: one a sadist and one a soldier, but after the first encounter, the Soldier refused. Some tiny part of Cloud was relieved by his decision. Though Sephiroth’s tortures lasted longer, the soldier knew exactly where to inflict pain and release blood without any long term injuries. The moment the copy left them, Sephiroth dropped the replica blade and immediately tended to Cloud’s wounds. 

They had no idea how long this cycle went on. Days. Weeks. Months.

Cloud grunted and let out the softest cries as he tried to cover his bleeding wounds, coughing splatters of blood into his hand. 

Sephiroth stayed quiet as he sliced another perfect rectangle out of his leather coat. He tied the rag around Cloud’s deepest wound, tightening and securing it perfectly as always. Without asking, he adjusted the many other makeshift bandages on the boy’s body, covering and protecting as much as he could. 

Cloud kept his eyes away from the soldier, his protector, his torturer, as he tried not to twitch or flinch away in pain. He just watched the movement of the tattered remains of the majestic black coat on the First’s back that he swore he would wear when he first left his hometown. 

However, once Sephiroth finished, he didn’t back away like he usually did. He removed a glove before sliding one of the mako green shackles and delicately grabbing Cloud’s wrist. Cloud, feeling the warmth from his palm, gave him a weird look during his few seconds of silence before he explained, “Your heart rate and temperature dropped.”

“Blood loss will do that…” He strained to even speak clearly, his voice raspy and rough from fatigue, never getting a single change to heal back to full strength. 

“You need heat,” Sephiroth stated the only resource he could provide in this living hell. 

Cloud shook his head. “Answer me something first…” The reptilian eyes snapped so quickly to his barely mako infected blue he almost jumped. “Have you tried to… ‘put me out of my misery’...?”

“I have.”

The blonde choked on his breath at the formal admission. 

“I won’t deny the thought. But it doesn’t matter. That was the day I got this.” He gestured to the massive healing bruise along the side of his ribs. That was the first and only time the dark copy threw him away from Cloud mid-torture. It didn’t swat him away like a fly. The rage in its eyes was real, as was its strength to destroy them both if it desired. 

Cloud could only look away from the bewildered memory. 

Sephiroth maneuvered his chains around the blonde as he sat against the wall. “I will not touch you, but you need heat. Lean against me.”

Cloud looked at him like he was crazy. 

“I will not force you. I’ll be here.” 

He shook his head of spikey blonde hair. This whole situation was messed up enough. He didn't need this frustrating suggestion added to it. This was the man that burned down his home town before burning it down. This was the man that willingly tortured him only to tear his own clothes to pieces to help him heal. A chill went through his body from the cold and he groaned at the sensation. Cloud relented, hoping that whatever world they were trapped in now might give him the chance to protect the woman he loved. He needed to survive. The blonde begrudgingly laid his head against the soldier’s shoulder, the backs of their arms touching for a bit of extra warmth. Cloud could not deny that this warmth felt nice, though he would never admit it aloud. It didn't take long before the severely injured boy fell asleep on what used to be his hero, who his hero used to be. 

* * * 

They didn't know that single decision was the copy's plan. They didn't know Sephiroth's efforts to heal the cadet were exactly what it wanted, the last of what he would call human emotion. Despite the repeated tortures, they clung to each other for emotional support unconsciously. Good. They'd needed to be at their strongest before they could fall into the endless pit of despair and surrender for eternity. 

Days later, when the copy appeared before them once again, it did not speak. When it approached, they stayed still, Sephiroth standing in front of Cloud like a guard. The slightest smirk in anticipation curled on its face as it grabbed Sephiroth and threw him to the end of his chains. 

Cloud yelled a simple yet powerful 'NO'. He had no idea that was only the first cry of desperation he’d make tonight. 

It knocked Sephiroth to the ground and pinned him with its boot on his chest. Then it turned to Cloud and, speaking just as tranquilly and alluring as always, gave a simple command. “On your knees. I want you to beg for forgiveness.”

The bewildered look in both Cloud and Sephiroth's eyes delayed them. It didn't like that. It shook off its younger self’s pathetic attempt at defense and kicked him to the wall. The metal plates dented instantly upon impact, nearly buckling the support pillar within. 

That got the cadet moving, scrambling to his barely functioning feet and trying to run over before the next strike, to be the shield for once. If this creature gave up on them, grew bored of trying to keep them alive for whatever its goal was, then what the hell was he supposed to do? All he could do was try, yet the chains yanked him back before he even got close. He watched the dark copy throw blow after blow into his childhood hero. Not a single one of Sephiroth’s defenses or skills protected him. 

Cloud quickly saw he only had one option.

He fell to his knees and hung his head to forcibly avoid the sight. Though Sephiroth gave this creature nothing, not a single cry or even grunt of pain, the echo of each deadly impact ricocheted through the massive walls. The cacophony covered his whispers. Pleading. Begging. Desperate to make it stop.

His voice only grew louder and louder, a crescendo with each passing blow until his raspy shouts for forgiveness drowned the chamber. Though the copy was smirking and even grinning in victory, it didn’t stop. Cloud found himself screaming more than in his own torture, a never ending cycle of ‘please forgive me’ tainting his every breath. Even tears he could not control did not stop the doppelganger. 

It felt like hours, Cloud’s face covered in endless clear rivers while Sephiroth’s rivers of red ran along his body, before the creature finally left them again. The silver soldier struggled and coughed more crimson into his hand as he tried to push himself up just to sit. Drying blood stained the perfect mercury of his hair. Neither one of them spoke until he healed enough to crawl into Cloud’s range. 

However, the cadet didn’t move, his body shaking, his arms tightly against his chest as he trembled and stared down. He spoke in the weakest voice, “We should surrender…”

Sephiroth stared daggers into him at the suggestion alone, but Cloud was serious.

“What’s the point…? We don’t know who’s living or dead out there… We don’t know if anyone will find us or if we’ll die of starvation or our own wounds… Sephiroth, if we just listen to him-”

“Absolutely not.”

“We can-”

“No-”

“At least then we can breathe-”

“No-”

“Then this can finally end…”

Sephiroth wanted to protest, but clearly the cadet’s mind was too broken. This plea was the beginning of something he couldn’t fix. He shut himself down into still silence, but Cloud kept pleading with him to surrender. No matter how hard he tried to block out the boy’s cries, they broke through each crack in his walls. He could do this alone. He had to do this alone. But something deep in his chest ached, and it wasn’t the broken ribs. Something about losing the one companion he had pried into his heart. 

The copy kept appearing only to torture the remains of the silver soldier. The blonde cadet only begged him to give in, his voice calm during the torture and greater when they were alone. There was only one more support he could count on. One more calling from the abyss of mako. He felt it from the moment they were thrown in this chamber. It promised safety. It promised a purpose. It promised the freedom to never feel this way again. 

Each day that passed pushed him closer to the mako pit below. He didn’t know if he had the courage to jump. He only knew it was there. And it was growing, and growing, and growing…

.

.

.

.

Thanks for reading!

Author's Note: As requested, @beneathstarryskies here you go!