#sephiroths life would be easier if he put his hair up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miss-tc-nova · 4 years

Text

A SOLDIER’S Memories - Cloud Strife x Fem!Reader Pt 6

Building up a little...

Part 6: Dead to Me

I get harassed and dragged from the bed by a person who experiences pain at just the sight of me. When Cloud leaves, he sends me the woman in pink, Aerith, to check my injury which is not nearly as bad as it should have been. She has to be using materia to speed up the healing process. Once she’s done, she ushers me downstairs which is almost a feat for me. Aerith is the only one to show concern and gets a chair before I collapse. Barret and Cloud stand opposite me.

“I still don’t know why you wanted us to bring her,” the big man, Barret, says to Cloud. “She’s SOLDIER. It’ll be easier if we just get rid of her.”

Cloud sighs, “But if we keep her, she can tell us more about what Shinra’s been planning.”

“I kinda like the big guy’s plan,” I murmur.

Barret growls back, “Not much for self confidence, are ya?”

I grin wryly. “You kidding me? I’m SOLDIER.”

"And we're AVALANCHE."

"Who got beat by me: a SOLDIER," I remind. He looks like he wants to beat my face in.

"Speaking of which." Tifa walks around to face me. "You should have killed us. Why didn't you?"

I give a short laugh. "You think I was sparing you? Yeah right. Sparing you would have been killing you. Anything and everything is a test subject to our scientists. You'd be begging to be dead by the time they're done with you."

She frowns, folding her arms. "I don't believe you."

I roll my eyes. "Guess I can't prove it anyways."

"So now what?" Aerith asks.

Cloud answers, turning away, "She's our prisoner."

"Not your best move," I instigate. “You really aren’t the brightest bunch, are you?”

"Look, you're coming with us and that’s final."

I can’t do anything here. I can’t escape them in this state and even if I did, I can’t return to Shinra who will probably be gearing up to execute me. He’s got me in a corner. The frustration rises and I glower. Cloud folds his arms, standing his ground.

“You’re making a huge mistake.”

“Welcome to AVALANCHE.”

The group talks about chasing down Sephiroth, which is absolute bullshit. There’s a delusional infantryman, a trigger-happy bear, a flower girl, a bartender, and a dog; in top shape I could have them down in minutes and Sephiroth has nearly killed me twice now. They’re idiots but I guess there’s time to talk them down from their madness.

“I hate to burst you guys’ bubble, but we won’t be going anywhere in a hurry on foot,” I speak up.

Barret retorts, “I thought you SOLDIERs were supposed to have heightened stamina.”

“That doesn’t mean I can instantly regenerate. We’re still human.” There’s no point in stooping to his level of ridicule. I smirk. “But you seem to be the muscles of the group, big guy. How about a piggy-back ride down to the chocobo farm?”

“Ain’t no way in hell am I carryin’ you!” he snaps indignantly. I give a soundless snicker, having successfully pushed some buttons. I may have to stick with them for now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be irritating.

“She is right though. How are we going to get her to the farm?” asks Tifa.

Cloud sighs. “Perhaps there’s someone heading that way we can hitch a ride with.”

The group disperses with the exception of the dog who calls himself Red XIII; he gets to play guard dog while the others find a ride for us. He’s quite an insightful creature and a sweetheart, despite being wary of my Shinra title.

“Alright Miss First Class,” Barret grumbles, stalking back in.

“Gonna give me that piggy back after all?” I hum, wrapping my arms around his neck as he picks me up.

“Shut up. There’s a truck downstairs that’s gonna give us a lift,” he grumbles.

“Oh yay. Shotgun.”

“You’re not gettin’ the damn front seat!”

“Lame.”

True to his words, I get put on a trailer with Cloud and Red while Barret sits in the bed of the pickup and the girls sit in the cab with the driver. At least it’s a sunny day. Leaning against the bushel of straw, I let my eyes close and enjoy the warmth of the sunshine. It’s been years since I left Midgar. Being the so-called ‘sole survivor’ of the Nibelheim incident, I assume that Shinra wanted to keep me close. The incident had never been put out to the world so I was a liability, probably not by choice. Even though I still got access to the real sky, it was like being trapped in the slums again; so this is a nice change of pace as long as you don’t consider how we got here or the journey ahead.

And we arrive at the farm. Tifa helps me out and I gimp my way to the corral where a herd of chocobo lazily grazes about. I love these birds so much but there’s always a tinge of pain when I see them. Pushing that aside though, I’m done showing them my weaknesses.

“Kweh!” I call in my best mimic of the fowls.

Most of the heads pop up and I get a few calls back. In a matter of moments, I have a mob of golden feathers checking me out.

Their attention pulls from me. “There you are,” Cloud scolds.

I keep my gaze on the feathered creature enjoying my pampering. “You act as if I could run away.”

“I’m sure you would.”

The man flinches as one of the chocobos nips at his hair playfully before nuzzling him. I laugh. "Looks like they like you."

"Hopefully the ones we catch will too," he replies, stroking the bird.

I’m sure they will. It may be the hair, but chocobos typically tend to have a thing for the blonde, whether or not he knows it. My mob is now enthusiastically attempting to groom Cloud. My amusement piques when I notice he’s at a complete loss of what to do.

Choco Bill arrives and beckons Cloud to follow him into the corral. Once he’s inside, there’s no saving him from the chocobo.

"Haha! Oh no! I lost Cloud! We'll have to leave him to live among the chocobos!" I shout.

He gives me one of those "really?" looks before shaking his head and going back to what he was doing.

"Oh my gods, now that you mention it, his hair does make him look like a chocobo," Tifa says, on the verge of giggling with Aerith.

I continue poking fun while the blonde learns to catch chocobo for us to ride which seems to lighten up everyone around me with the exception of Cloud. I’d only meant to be a bother to the people forcing me to accompany them, but I’m genuinely having some fun right now.

“You’ll catch a whole fluffle just by standing in the middle of nowhere,” I tease the returning blonde from where I sit on the ground.

“Fluffle?” he questions.

“Like sixty percent sure that’s what you call a group of chocobo,” I reply. “And if it’s not, it should be.”

“You’re not taking any of this seriously, are you,” Cloud grumbles as he climbs out of the corral.

“Sure I am,” I hum. “You fools think you can take on Sephiroth and Shinra probably has bounties on our heads. Which wouldn’t be nearly as bad if you hadn’t kidnapped me, by the way.”

His brows furrow. “Why’s that?”

I put a finger to my lips. “Because I know things.”

“I was SOLDIER too you know,” he huffs.

I want to lash out at him, strike my palm across his face, but I just maintain my smile. “Oh you know the standard employee stuff but I was the crown jewel that succeeded Sephiroth. I had my pull around the company.”

“Really?”

“No. Shinra doesn’t give a rat’s ass about their employees. But I do know some secrets they’re going to kill me for if they find me.”

Leaning against the fence, he replies, “Like what?”

“Pssh. I’m not telling you.”

“Why not?”

Because you might have a breakdown if I do. “Because you don’t need to know.” That answer annoys him. “Oh! Can we go snowboarding at Icicle Inn?”

I’ve completely destroyed his investment in our conversation. “We don’t have time for that.”

“Oh come on! What’s the point of travelling the world if you can’t have a little fun?”

“We’re not travelling for fun,” he grumbles, pushing off the fence to walk away from me.

The corner of my mouth pulls back in skepticism. “You’re just gonna get everyone down if you keep that up. Then you’ll really be toast.”

Cloud pauses and glances back. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon. Just because you were in the military doesn’t mean you don’t understand basic human nature. If your team has no morale, they’re going to make mistakes that could cost someone their life.” I flop on my back. “Just because they have the motivation doesn’t mean they’re in the right mindset. Miserable people tend to look at the negatives and when you’re not expecting the best result, you’ll never reach it.”

“Is that why you’re so chipper despite being a hostage?”

“Pfft. Me, hostage,” I laugh, letting my eyes flutter shut and soaking in some sun. “You’re funny, Mister Chocobo.”

“Will you stop calling me that!” I continue enjoying my sunshine. “You’re not going to, are you?”

“Nope.”

His sigh of defeat brings up a spark of recollection and I can just see that young infantryman rolling his eyes; a soft, warm blush creeping across his naïve face, and the pure light glittering in his untainted eyes. The brief reprieve I’ve been basking in turns cold. I’m left alone to stare into the vast, empty sky and admonish myself. He is not my Cloud; he never will be again and I can’t keep driving myself mad over this—that’s what got me into this mess to begin with. It’s been five years and even if I feel guilty, even if I always will feel guilty, it’s probably way past time I moved on. For all intents and purposes, my Cloud is dead and isn’t coming back.

#cloud strife #cloud x reader #cloud strife x reader #ffvii cloud #ff7 cloud #fem!reader

32 notes · View notes

greensaplinggrace · 4 years

Text

Barret Apocalypse AU Pt. 2

PART 1 | PART 2 of Prompt: “Hello! This is kind of out there but I was wondering if you could do a post apocolypse au? With tons of Barret but not very shippy. With lots of found family though! Thanks” ~ @eilesgiire

CAN BE FOUND HERE ON AO3

Three hours and seven houses after leaving camp, Barret still hasn’t found a single shelter even remotely suitable for living.

Most have been the victims of roaming Mobs, walls shredded and marked by the distinct silver shards of glass bombs, destroyed simply for the safety and seclusion of their locations, and the select few that haven’t been touched by the Mobs are overrun by the infected instead. One place is even reduced to shambles by what appears to be an earthquake, not even slightly inhabitable.

Every single time, the houses will look stable from a distance. Safe to explore and eventually settle in for the winter. And every time, they all turn out to be unusable and they all reveal themselves to be disappointing in some way. He’d headed out to look for any house worthy of a home, but not a single place he’s come across so far is even close to meeting his criteria.

It doesn’t have to be much, but it has to be enough.

He won’t settle for anything less when it comes to his little girl.

It hurts to even be separate from her for so long, but he has to do this. If he wants to keep their camp safe, but especially if he wants to keep her safe.

Barret only wants what's best for Marlene; it’s always been what he’s wanted. Beyond the bid for environmental change and the firm rise against corrupt policies. Underneath rebellions and uprisings and what the media had once called terrorism. Throughout all of it - the loud, brash call for freedom and challenging the winds of fate themselves - Barret’s interests have never strayed from Marlene.

Everything he does, he does for her. Keeping the world safe keeps Marlene safe, and providing for Marlene is all Barret has ever wanted to do since the first moment she settled in his arms.

Unfortunately, providing for Marlene means taking risks, and taking risks means leaving her.

Used to be, taking risks meant risking Marlene as well, but Tifa’s solid presence at his side has been a boon the likes of which Barret had never expected. Sent by the planet herself, Tifa had come into their lives not in a whirlwind but in a steady drive back to camp after the day she’d recovered - the day he’d thought she left for good - with a truck bed full of three years worth of supplies and four suitcases brimming with clothes and toys for Marlene.

She’s done nothing but prove her worth every day afterward, pulling her weight around camp and helping to ease the burden of responsibility just a bit. Just enough for him to feel like he’s finally getting somewhere - like he can finally do what he needs.

So now, Marlene is always safe. Tifa stays with her when Barret goes out. Or Barret stays with her when Tifa goes out. Leaving Marlene no longer means abandoning her, and taking care of her doesn’t mean putting her at risk, and recently the world has stopped looking as bleak as it once had. Filling instead with just the faintest, glimmering tinge of hope.

But no amount of hope can change the fact that they need a solid roof over their heads, and no amount of trust in Tifa can help Barret miss his daughter any less.

Hope certainly isn’t getting Barret any closer to finding salvageable shelter, either, and he’s just beginning to give up on the last of it when a woman’s scream rips through the silence of the forest.

Barret hits the brakes with a grating screech and skids over to the side of the road immediately. Eyes wide through the shade of his glasses as he peers intently out the smudged windows of his truck, attempting to gauge any sort of threat level. He’s reluctant to exit the car just yet in case it’s a trap, but if it is a call for help Barret can’t just sit idly by while someone suffers.

He searches for a time before he notices where the screams are coming from, but eventually he sees it. Just down a small pathway in the forest that opens up into a wide clearing sits a house. It’s a massive, immaculately pristine mansion practically crawling with the infected, but that isn’t what chills him to the bone.

Dawn has started to break out the first light of the next day, and the vivid red rays cast a gruesome pallor over the scene laid out before him.

Littered across the blood slick grasses of the clearing are dozens of bodies - possibly hundreds - skewered and piked and cut to pieces like cattle. He’s stumbled into a damned battlefield, Barret realizes, and there’s only one group savage enough to do something like this.

SOLDIERs.

Without another thought he’s out of the car and slamming the door closed behind him. Infected he can deal with. SOLDIERS he can put up a fight against. But whoever is in that mansion? He doubts they can do either, otherwise they’d already be out amidst the fallen.

He sees the group of SOLDIERS almost immediately when he reaches the dip at the end of the pathway, the whole of the clearing opening up before him like some sick wartime display. There’s a man sprawled across the ground right in front of him whose eyes have been burned clean out of his skull, mouth smeared with blood and chest caved in. Laying dead beside him is another person, a woman with her head half severed at the neck and legs bent at an impossible angle. Then another and another, extending out in front of him and beside him, leading into the trees and up to the mansions doors.

At a guess, Barret would say they’re guards, but most of them aren’t even whole enough to identify, either butchered by their aggressors or gnawed at by the crowd of zombies currently tearing at the walls of the mansion.

It’s a level of cruelty Barret has never seen before in his life, and he considers himself a strong man when it comes to violence, but even entering the clearing has his stomach turning at the mere sight of the blood, pooled in wet patches of mud and glinting off matted blades of grass. It’s a massacre.

Killing the sick fucks who did this wouldn’t be punishment enough.

The fact that they’re still here, though? That’s what really pisses him off. There’s only two that he can see, gathered nearer to Barret than the mansion and both looking down at something on the ground, weapons drawn and ready as if they’re not already surrounded by the bodies of their victims. One has red hair and the other has long, distinct silver hair that Barret would be able to recognize anywhere, based on the propaganda that had run rampant throughout Midgar before it’s collapse.

Which means the other must be Genesis.

The first time Barret finally gets to come face to face with the war criminals who have destroyed the lives of so many - who worked gladly for the company that destroyed Barret’s life - and it’s when the world has been overrun by knock-off zombies and mako addicted gangs. And to make matters that much more complicated, there’s only two of the five he knows to exist currently present.

Two people who did all of this.

Shinra really did create monsters.

The heat that burns through Barret’s veins is pure rage when he hears the screams in the mansion cut out in one last abrupt, terrified screech, still standing surrounded by the brutalized bodies of the dead, a horde of infected not even a few meters away and a sea of blood like the earth is bleeding. While these people - these murderers - just linger at the scene of their own crime and talk like this is a damned vacation and not a fucking massacre.

Without even thinking of the danger, Barret is whipping his gun into the air and preparing to fire, free hand clenched into a furious fist at his side and vicious words already at the tip of his tongue. Ready to finally do something for once - ready to fight back and take control -

Yet before he can so much as consider firing, a movement catches his eye. A shock of matted blonde hair that shifts between the only two men still standing. Pale, bloodied limbs struggling to gain traction against the soaked and unforgiving earth. The hacking cough that follows is enough to sober Barret like a bucket of ice cold water as he realizes that somebody is still alive. Pinned between two super soldiers and lying prone as Sephiroth’s sword descends for the final blow.

Barret’s heart hits the back of his throat.

“Hey!” he yells, starting forward as they turn to face him. He ignores the warning frowns that mar their faces, Sephiroth’s sword drawing back ever so slightly as if to attack him instead, and powers on with his gun raised. “Hey! Get the hell away from him!”

It’s Genesis that ends up facing him fully, snapping his sword to attention in one quick, smooth motion and pointing it directly at Barret. It forces him to stop dead in his tracks a good few feet away from them, but Barret’s close enough now to see the pallid state of their faces and Sephiroth’s unnaturally slitted pupils. He looks like a ghost of the pictures Barret had once seen, cracked at the edges and wild eyed, paler than the dead and hair askew like some tormented ghost.

He doesn’t look alive.

And Genesis isn’t much better. Barret never had the chance to get a glimpse of him the way most had been able to with Sephiroth, but he can take a wild fucking guess that the graying, unwashed hair and sallow complexion isn’t normal. Nor is the way he’s acting right now, sword extended in a threat as a twisted smirk graces his delicate features.

They’ve both gone completely off the deep end.

The blonde on the ground isn’t faring too well, either. They’ve done a number on him, kicked and beaten him until his skin is coated in bruises, hair caked in blood and clothes ripped. There’s a cut down his shirt that looks like it was made by the straight edge of a sword purely for the purpose of exposing skin, and Barret’s veins run cold in a different kind of fury at the sight.

It’s easier now than it had been even days ago to believe the rumors. That the SOLDIERs were the ones to start this apocalypse; that it was Shinra’s precious little lapdogs who let the world fall into chaos.

Gaia, Barret is endlessly grateful that Marlene and Tifa aren’t here to see this right now.

“I ain’t playing around,” he snaps, “back the fuck off before I shoot.”

“This isn’t any business of yours,” Sephiroth sighs, sounding as if he’s discussing the weather instead of some poor man’s life, and Barret has to unclench and clench his fist again to refrain from shooting that smug mug right off his face, “I suggest you move along.”

“It’s not going to happen, you twisted fuck.”

Sephiroth’s lips thin at that, his blade finally falling away from the blonde completely as he turns to face Barret alongside Genesis. He looks incandescently angry, eyes alight with a demented sort of fury that has Barret’s hair standing on end, but he doesn’t back down. SOLDIER or not, he’ll find a way to stop them.

“I ain’t gonna let you murder somebody right in front of me!” he protests heatedly, swinging his gun around to face Sephiroth when the other’s eyes narrow dangerously. “The hell is wrong with you?! He’s on the ground right now. He can’t even fight back. ”

“This is SOLDIER business.”

“Of course, that’s why it involved the eighty guard rotation of some rich fuck’s manor? Dead servants and a horde of zombies clawing at the doors of a building that doesn’t even belong to you? SOLDIER business, my ass.”

Sephiroth sucks in a sharp breath, grip tightening ever so slightly on the hilt of his blade, but Barret doesn’t waver an inch as those hateful eyes glare venomously.

“I don’t know you and I don’t care to,” Sephiroth hisses, “but if you continue to try my patience, you’ll soon become acquainted with my blade. This is your last warning.”

“To hell with your fuckin’ warnings. How ‘bout I don’t shoot you for murdering half a small town’s worth of people.”

It’s Genesis that reacts this time around, letting out a laugh as he weaves the tip of his sword through the air. “You think you could hurt us with that toy?” he scoffs, smirk rapidly turning into a mocking sneer, “you’re nothing compared to us. I could put my sword through you before you even got a single bullet out of that worthless pile of scrap.”

“Take your best shot, asshole!”

It happens in the blink of an eye. One moment Barret is standing his ground against two furious supersoldiers, Genesis baring his teeth and winding up in a snarling fury, sword moving so fast Barret can hardly see it cutting through the air as he prepares to meet his end. Then the next there’s a blur of movement and the screech of metal against metal, a massive buster sword reverberating just inches above Barret’s head with the force of Genesis’s blade.

Barret instantly recognizes the blonde hair.

“What the-?”

“Cloud! Enough.” Sephiroth’s own sword is extended now, pressing with careful precision into the pulse point of the blonde, and he does not look any happier than he had thirty seconds ago.

“You two know each other?” Barret’s beginning to suspect this person might not be another unfortunate guard from the mansion. He’s holding his sword level with Genesis - of all people - as if it’s nothing. The weight of his blade alone should have been enough to send him keeling over.

That’s when Barret notices the uniform - a SOLDIER’s uniform. It doesn’t look the same as a first class uniform, but it's definitely not a civilian’s outfit either.

Barret had been protecting a SOLDIER.

A rush of emotions floods him at that. Anger and confusion and frustration making him growl out a warning and direct his gun right back at Sephiroth.

“What is going on here?” he demands, “you’re standing in the middle of a massacre about to kill one of your own?!”

Sephiroth chuckles, tone lightening for the first time since Barret arrived. “Well, we’ve already killed the other.”

Dead silence.

Not even Genesis moves for a second, and the blonde’s arms start to shake beneath the pressure. Though the sword above him poses a massive threat, Barret can’t help the way his eyes are drawn like magnets to the dead body that had been right beside the blonde. The torn, blood soaked remains of a SOLDIER uniform tells him all he needs to know.

They killed him. One of their own. Just as they’d been about to kill the blonde. There truly is no end to Shinra’s cruelty. Even after the company’s demise its loyal soldiers gather to slaughter each other like cattle and destroy the lives of those only trying to get by. Even after Shinra has died the planet still burns, and the SOLDIERs are still the tools of its destruction.

Yet a SOLDIER had also been the one to save his life.

Cloud, Sephiroth had said.

His reflexes are slow, movements groggy, and Barret would bet his only remaining arm that the guy has at least a medium grade concussion. He’s already breaking under the strain of holding back a super soldier - already crumbling beneath an impossible weight. There’s no telling if he’d be able to run or keep up with the fight - no telling if he’s a good enough person to even try it...but he’d been a good enough one to save Barret’s life.

Barret’s determined to get him out of this in one piece.

The next moment is a blur of movement. The snap decision to fire, not at Sephiroth but at his blade, until the sword is ripping the man’s arm sideways and his expression is slackening in surprise. Barret doesn’t even take a moment to contemplate the true suicidal stupidity of attacking someone like Sephiroth before he’s charging forward, grabbing the blonde by the waist and using his gun to take the brunt of Genesis’s sword. It’s only for a second - only to garner enough time to pull the kid back and free him from the lock of blades - but it’s enough for Barret to holler as an electrifying pain numbs his gun arm. The shriek of tearing metal splits the air, accompanied by Genesis’s own noise of outrage, and Barret hauls the kid backwards and onto his shoulders without hesitation.

There’s a beat of tension as Sephiroth recovers his footing and Genesis regains his bearings, Barret staring right at two infuriated super soldiers through the sparks of his shredded arm.

Then the world is rushing back around him. Panic and noise and the need to get the hell out of there. To return home to his daughter.

So Barret takes the kid and he runs.

And hell, he doesn’t look back for anything.

——

Barret winds down several backroads as he makes his way back to camp, determined to shake any tail he might have now that he’s possibly angered some of the most powerful people in the world. He hadn’t seen them pursue him after he’d dumped himself and the kid in his truck and torn out of there like a bat out of hell, but there’s no telling what their kind has up their sleeves.

There’s no telling what the one in his truck has up his sleeve, either, and it’s damn ridiculous that Barret is risking any part of his life for a Shinra lapdog that might turn on them at any moment, but he can’t bring himself to abandon the guy. Can’t allow himself in good conscience to leave someone so clearly injured out to fend for themself, let alone someone who’d happened to save his life. Even if Barret had also happened to save theirs. Barret would say that makes them even, but he knows it’s more complicated than that - knows that ties of any sort of blood can lead people to do bad things. It's hard to break from that mold. Hard to choose something good over those you consider family.

Cloud turned on his people. That takes more than guts. Though Barret doesn’t know if 'more' is a bad thing or a good thing, considering it had led him to being a turncoat. No matter how justified it may have been.

He brings the blonde back to camp because it’s the right thing to do, and because apparently he’s made a habit of picking up strays. But it’s with a heavy heart and a host of fears, millions of horror scenarios playing out in his head. A swirling mass of dreadful scenes depicting Marlene and Tifa hurt and dying because of his actions - his family hunted now by people they have no hope of beating alone.

Scenes that follow him all the way home.

Yet when he pulls up to camp he doesn’t even think to let those worries show, and when he steps out of the car and slams the door shut behind him, there’s nothing on his face but a massive, beaming smile as he sets sights on his little girl. She squeals when she sees him, dashing forward in a mad scramble of flying cookware from the portable oven.

“Daddy!” she screams excitedly, “Daddy, you’re back!” She hits him with all the force of her tiny body and he laughs as he takes her up in his arm. The warmth and relief that fills him almost brings tears to his eyes, and he hugs her so tight to his chest that he can feel her breathing and alive against him.

“That’s right, angel! Safe and sound, just like I promised.”

She giggles against his neck, small fists rising to press at the nape of his neck in a hug. “Tifa and me were making you dinner!”

“Oh, is that so?” He chuckles, looking up to see Tifa standing a short distance away. She looks relaxed and happy, smiling with a languid sort of bliss as she watches the two of them.

Then her eyes drift down to his destroyed arm and the expression drops to one of pure panic, her gaze darting back up to his own with alarm.

He winces and shakes his head, silently telling her he’ll explain it all later. But he refuses to let go of Marlene right now - refuses to let her out of his sights - so he nods at the passenger seat of the truck, observing pensively as Tifa finally seems to catch his drift, circling around the car to check inside.

“Did you bring back anything fun, Daddy?” Marlene asks sweetly, leaning away to peer up at him with wide eyes. He hums for a moment to stall, hearing Tifa’s small gasp as she catches sight of the battered SOLDIER, and tries to keep his tone light when he answers.

“Not this time, baby. Had to focus on houses instead of stuff, remember?”

“Uh huh! You were house hunting!” She exclaims proudly, eyes crinkling with the force of her smile.

It’s impossible not to return one of his own, warm and loving as he moves them both away from the situation about to unfold, further into the camp. “That’s right! When did you get such a good memory?”

Marlene kicks her legs in the air with an offended sniff. “I always have a good memory. It’s you that forgets things. Like my necklace!” She pouts.

“Well, you’ve got me there,” he laughs, forcing his tone into something unworried as he turns to see Tifa haul the blonde from the car. She slams the door shut with enough force to make Marlene jump, and as she carries the blonde bridal style into the clearing he notices the dark shadow of horror in her eyes, lips tight and arms shaking as she stares down at him.

Marlene can’t help turning at the noise, and Barret has no power to stop her as she gets a look at their new guest. She gasps, mouth dropping open as she begins to squirm eagerly in his grasp. “Who’s that?! Is he another friend? Is he staying with us too, like Tifa?”

“I don’t know!” He keeps a hold of her as Tifa sets the blonde down on her own mattress, instantly digging around in her pack for supplies. Then turns his full attention on Marlene again, looking sternly into her pleading brown eyes until she stills enough to listen.

“We don’t know if he’s staying, yet,” he tells her honestly, voice gentle, “But we can’t bother him right now, okay? He’s hurt and he might be dangerous.”

“Dangerous how? Who is he?” It’s Tifa who speaks, although she doesn’t look back at him as she does so, and Barret sighs as he crouches to lower Marlene to the ground. She races over to them both before he can do anything, but he trusts that Tifa won’t let any harm come to Marlene.

“A fool, apparently,” Barret snorts with bitter self reproach, “and a turncoat too. ‘Less his friends were just…” he glances at Marlene, shocked and curious as she hides behind Tifa and peaks out at the blonde from around the woman’s shoulder. “...hurting him for the fun of it. They looked past the point of sanity, though, so who the hell knows.”

“A Cluster?” Tifa frets, “I thought they didn’t wander out this way.”

“They usually don’t. Stick to the roads and such. Don’t got time for the likes of backwoods campers. But this wasn’t a Cluster, it was worse.”

“Worse how?” She finally turns to look back at him, and the furrow between her brows makes his heart ache for her. He almost doesn’t want to say it, but -

“SOLDIERS.”

She freezes, expression going blank, and he knows nothing good can be going through her head right now.

“What?” She croaks breathlessly, “You brought a SOLDIER back here? Are you insane? ”

“What’s a soldier?” Marlene’s voice is small and afraid, and Barret swallows the conversation in an instant at her tone, falling to his knees and beckoning her over.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart. Come here.”

He sees Tifa drop the conversation as well, biting her lip to keep from speaking as she settles a comforting hand on Marlene’s shoulder. She forces herself to relax as she gives Marlene a warm smile, nudging her toward Barret, and after a few seconds Marlene begins to approach with tiny steps. She’s fidgeting, casting fervent looks back at the limp body next to Tifa.

“Is our new friend a bad guy?” she asks hesitantly, eventually working up the courage to speak as she gets closer.

Barret swallows thickly. “No, he’s not- not a bad guy. He saved my life.” Then, louder as he directs it to Tifa, “he saved my life.”

She sighs and nods, shoulders tense as she turns back to keep working on Cloud, and Barret leans forward the rest of the distance to sweep Marlene up again into a comforting hug. Like magic, though, she’s already moved on from the emotion of two seconds ago. Fear turned to a palpable interest as she hums curiously against him and vibrates with a new kind of energy.

“So he’s a hero?” She asks as he stands to take them to her tent.

“I suppose he is,” he admits reluctantly, holding back a scowl.

“Then why is he so hurt?”

He parts the flaps of her tent and carries her into the muted blue shadows, laying her gently down on her sleeping bag. She yawns widely, rubbing at her eyes and sniffing, but she doesn’t let up on the questioning gaze for one second.

Barret toys with his next words. “His old family...didn’t treat him very well.”

“But why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Families aren’t supposed to hurt each other. They’re supposed to take care of each other. Like you do with me.”

His gaze softens and he brushes a stray lock from her eyes, mulling over his next response. “I take care of you because I love you, and you’re my precious little girl.” She giggles when he leans down to smother her in a sloppy kiss, pushing his face away playfully. Then he leans back and sobers up, saying tenderly, “These people...they weren’t like us. They didn’t agree with him, sweetheart. I don’t know the whole story, but I know they tried to kick him out.”

“They wanted to abandon him?”

She sounds so sad, and Barret doesn’t know how to make it better. Doesn’t want to lie to her but doesn’t want to hurt her.

He exhales slowly and presses her back into her bag when she tries to rise. The heavy weight of his hands rests on her chest for a moment in solid comfort, and after a time her small fingers come up to rest atop his own. She pats at him solemnly like it’s him that needs the comforting, and he chokes back a laugh.

“We should keep him,” she says, “so he can know what a real family is.”

“We aren’t his family, sweetheart.”

“But you’re a Daddy. And you said that we should always help and protect people.”

“That’s-” He huffs in amusement and relents beneath the insistence of her hopeful eyes. “Very kind, Marlene. And very brave.”

Her smile is shy with the light pink in her cheeks, but her eyes sparkle victoriously. Barret doesn’t know how to tell her that the SOLDIER probably won’t be around come morning, if he even stays that long at all. So he turns his palm to catch her wrists between his fingers, bringing her hands up to lay a kiss on the back of each. Then he lowers them back down to kiss her goodnight as well, hushing her worries with a gentle touch to the forehead.

“I couldn't be more proud of you,” he says lowly, “my kind girl. You’ve grown up so well.”

“I think you’re the kindest, Daddy, for helping people even when they’re mean. I think you’re a hero, too. You and Auntie Tifa and…”

“His name is Cloud,” Barret admits, already regretting saying the words. And sure enough-

“And Uncle Cloud!”

“How about we wait until he’s awake to see if he wants to be called that, huh?” It’s a lot more rational than he wants it to be, but he can’t bear to snuff out the flickering light of hope Marlene’s found in the situation.

“Fine,” she pouts, before brightening excitedly, “and then he can tell us a story! About how he was the hero and saved you.”

Barret rolls his eyes and stands to leave. “I saved him too, you know.”

“Sure, Daddy.”

“Yeah, yeah...Goodnight, little bug.”

“Night night!” He exits the tent and zips up the flaps, and it’s only after he’s turned and made his halfway across the camp that he hears, “don’t let the bed bugs bite!” sound out behind him.

Barret chuckles fondly, wincing at a sudden sting of pain in his gun arm, and glances over at where Tifa’s working on the SOLDIER.

His smile drops almost instantly as he sees her leaning back on her heels, hands raised defensively against the harsh movements of her patient.

He’s awake, Barret thinks.

And acting exactly as Barret had feared, judging by the distress clear from across camp. He grits his teeth and storms over, hand already clenched into a fist.

“Hey!” Tifa jumps in surprise, turning to face him as he approaches, and Barret only faintly registers the lack of fear on her face before an infuriatingly cold voice is piercing the air.

“You can’t keep me here,” Cloud says, rising to sit up despite the obvious agony it brings him. He wraps an arm around his stomach, but the intensity of his glare doesn’t waver once.

Tifa worries at her lip as he moves, hands hovering over his battered body as if she doesn’t know where to place them. “You’re still injured, you can’t be up and about! Let me help you,” she practically begs, and Barret’s blood boils at the sound of it. What right does this kid have?

“Not interested.”

“Oh you can’t be serious!” Barret finally snaps, coming to a stomping halt right next to the both of them and scowling furiously down at the kid. “Drop the tough guy act and suck it up. You ain’t helpin’ no one with that attitude, least of all yourself.”

He opens his mouth to say more and falters almost violently when he catches sight of Cloud’s exposed upper body, teeth clacking shut as his eyes widen.

The kid’s shirt is cut right off of him now, with the tight black binder around his chest exposed for all to see. Yet what really horrifies Barret is the garish mass of bruises painting every inch of his skin. He’s coated in cuts and stab wounds, shaking with exhaustion and ribs stark against his thin body, with what looks like an actual bullet wound still red and seeping in his shoulder. Under the pale light of the moon, with blood and dirt washed away, he looks worse than he had sprawled out on that battlefield.

Barret’s stomach turns.

“Shit,” he breathes out before he can stop himself, “what the hell did they do to you?”

“A lot less than what they did to Zack!” His voice cracks and his teeth clench after he speaks, as if the words have spilled unwillingly from his mouth.

“The other SOLDIER?” The one they killed?

The words spark a fire in Cloud that has him whipping to attention so quickly Barret’s surprised he doesn’t keel over from the pain. “It ain’t any of your business!” he grinds out, voice desperate and guarded and hurt all at once, lashing out like an injured animal, “Stop treating me like I’m made of glass. Stop talking like you’re familiar with me. You don’t even know me.”

Tifa crosses her arms and raises her chin defiantly, unflinching in the face of Cloud’s anger, and meets his gaze head on when he turns to glare at her. Barret’s hit with another sense of profound respect for this woman, who doesn’t even blink at the unnatural glow of mako eyes in the night, upper body rising to match Cloud’s own harsh tension.

“You��re not being treated like glass! Your injuries are getting taken care of. Last I checked, there’s a hell of a difference.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Ya can’t take care of shit, soldier! Do you hear yourself?” Barret hisses, “do you see yourself? You wouldn’t make it a day out in the wild alone.”

Cloud works his jaw, the stubborn set of his shoulders unrelenting for just a second before his expression shifts, softening in surprise as his trembling body finally can’t take the stress anymore. Tifa reaches out just in time to catch him as he collapses, and the way his lashes flutter, eyes glazing over, speaks more about his wounds than whatever shit was spilling out of his mouth.

Barret snorts. “What a dumbass.”

“Barret!” Tifa scolds, lowering the kid with such a painful amount of gentleness that he’s half convinced the kid may have been onto something about being treated like glass.

“Look, he’s an asshole!” Barret defends, waving his gun arm at the kid in a momentary lapse of judgement that has it zinging with pain. He covers up a wince before Tifa can see it and continues on, growing tenser with each passing moment, voice heated with the pain and frustration of the day. “We’ve done nothing but help him and he’s acting like he doesn’t give a single shit. Dozens of people died today. I almost died! He almost died!”

“And his friend did die, so maybe cut him some slack.”

“That doesn’t excuse his shitty behavior.”

“It was one conversation, Barret! For a few minutes, while he was concussed and injured and barely coherent. He probably won’t even remember it in the morning.”

Barret grinds his teeth and quiets, because he knows she’s right. Know he’s overreacting but damn, everything about the kid had rubbed him the wrong way. “He’s a SOLDIER, Tifa.”

“One who apparently saved your life. One that you brought back with you, which tells me a bit more about what you really feel about this situation.”

“I just don’t trust him,” Barret says, “and I don’t like him.”

Tifa just shakes her head. “Go to sleep, Barret. You’ll want to apologize in the morning.”

“You said he wouldn’t remember the damn conversation anyway!” Barret huffs indignantly, the thought of apologizing makes his hackles rise like nothing else, and he’s thinking he may need to take Tifa’s advice, after all. That he should go to bed before he does something else he might regret.

Something- not something else- because there’s not anything else that he-

Dammit .

“Yeah,” he sighs, waving his hand as Tifa opens her mouth to keep fighting, “yeah, you’re right.”

He gives her a soft goodnight, feeling a bit better when she relaxes and sends him a reassuring smile before turning back to work on Cloud, and heads over to his own tent to settle in for the night.

He just needs some time to cool down - just needs to take a moment to himself so he can grieve the brutal loss of his prosthetic and the deaths of every single person he’d seen today. Needs to be able to reconcile with the horrifying levels of destruction he’d witnessed.

Once that’s done - once he’s had the time to settle down - he’ll apologize. Or find the guy some ice cream. He doesn’t know. But right now, just for the night, he needs to rest.

He goes to sleep with a calm mind that night, content and soothed by the knowledge that things turned out okay, with the firm resolution that he’ll get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow and lighten the air between him and the new guy.

Unfortunately, come morning, Tifa’s bedroll is empty. The top kicked aside and the buster sword missing from where it had been propped up against a tree.

Cloud is nowhere is sight.

And as Barret looks around in sleepy bewilderment, he realizes that neither is the truck.

“Mother fucker!”

#barret wallace #dad barret #soft barret #fanfiction #marlene wallace #tifa lockhart #cloud strife #protective barret #whump #ff7 #ffvii #remake #hurt comfort #cloud strife needs a hug #barret needs a hug #promptfills

8 notes · View notes

cateringisalie · 5 years

Text

Cloti Fall Festival 2019 (Day 3)

Written for the prompt ‘Flushed Cheeks’. A Blade Runner-ish AU.

The SOLDIER’s fist came down hard; Cloud jerked his head to the side. He barely avoided the blow that tore into the vehicle beside him, metal tearing almost like paper under the brute strength. The SOLDIER’s other hand still held him in place; fortunate that he had decided to use naked aggression and not simple crush his skull or crack his ribs. The SOLDIER aimed another blow; Cloud jerked his head again, but not fast enough, the SOLDIER’s fist clipping his ear.

SOLDIERs; genetically engineered servitors of the Shinra corporation. Use on Eastern Continent: Forbidden after the devastating destruction by Sephiroth; the oldest. SOLDIERs were created for deployment and combat in the Wutai war; in the aftermath they were repurposed for a variety of functions as servants. Shinra do not accept the accusation levelled by some groups that the SOLDIERs are effectively slaves. Cloud yelled out in pain. The SOLDIER grinned. The pain in his ear too distracting, hardly aware that the SOLDIER was tightening his grip on his shirt, drawing him into the air. One hand still clutching his shirt, the other moving with predatory slowness towards his face. Little chance that the SOLDIER could easily kill him. A vain hope that it would at least be quick. Other jobs never went anywhere. He pursued a number and nothing stuck. That was how they found him, staring at the paper and looking at the want ads. The third time he had quit the department checking for rogue SOLDIERs returning to the Shinra corporation’s seat of power in Midgar. Never wanted to dwell on the question why they came back. Life was tough in the West and towards Wutai. Perhaps it was as simple was that. But Cloud lost his taste for the job, even if he could pick SOLDIERs out with scarcely a second thought. He tried deliveries, he tried admin work. Hated detection but he was good at that. And that was why they came for him. Wrecked vessel off the coast, five SOLDIERs reportedly heading to Midgar. The last SeeD pursuing them stuck on life-support. The bang jolted Cloud out of his acceptance. The SOLDIER’s eyes were glassy, unfocused. He recovered, blinked; another shot. A gun. His gun. Dropped somewhere in the alley. A third shot, the SOLDIER’s forehead erupted open, Cloud wincing. The fall came next, the ground rushing up to meet Cloud, the SOLDIER collapsing limp on top of him. Was he saved? At the end of the alley a familiar figure stood holding his dropped gun. Tifa. “Do you like our Chocobo, Mister Strife?” Her footsteps echoed in the cavernous hall of the room. A reception area he had been ushered into on arrival. No detection job had required this in the past, but these SOLDIERs had tried to infiltrate the company. That was what caught Zack out. Some concern in high circles, the Shinra corporation casting doubt on his department’s ability to check. Not that the corporation were incapable of ascertaining a subject’s humanity; their method more precise, more clinical – and more in need of bone marrow. That little detail always a chilling aspect of the SOLDIERs make-up. And now here he was, ready to try the test on a proven SOLDIER – check it still functioned. Shinra corporation bending or outright breaking its own rules. The chocobo warked and fluffed its feathers. “Artifical?” A snort from the woman; long black hair, red eyes, immaculate poise and make-up- The hands holding the gun were shaking, her eyes fixed on the SOLDIER lying face-down. Cloud struggled to his feet, keeping his hands open and apart, venturing closer to her. “Of course not.” “Expensive?” “Very.” He gently took the gun from her; she relinquished it easily. She did not belong in the slums. Too clearly different. Her poise was gone , but the make-up, the hair, even the thick coat to hide the finery beneath was other, too pricey, too wasteful. And- “It seems you feel our work is not a benefit to the public.” Dismissive. She stalked away, heels clacking across the floor. Cloud followed. “SOLDIERs are like any other machine. If a hazard – my department.” “Is this to be a blush response?” Hojo. How long had he been waiting, watching? “Mister Strife, this is Hojo.” As if Cloud did not know who the man was. Never comfortable with the limelight or business. The creator of SOLDIER and creepier than expected. Cloud took his hand; cold, clammy. Resist the urge to wipe it. “Blush response is too crude-“ “Yes, you call it by another name.” The man glared at him, pretensions of hospitality gone. “I want to see a pass. A human.” Not part of the plan. “I thought-“ “Positive first, then negative.” Hojo sneered. “Unless you wish us to take on faith that your little machine works?” He nodded to the case at Cloud’s side. Resist the sigh. Get this out of the way. “Too bright in here.” Tifa crossed to the window and pressed a switch. “You want to try?” Hojo shook his head. “Her.” Dark in the slums, but too bright. Tifa stood out like a candle in the darkness. Nothing for it. Shinra had abandoned her. She had no relatives, no money. Nowhere to go. Cloud took her home. Get her out of the light. They were quiet on the way back. They would need to talk about it. Talk about the death at Tifa’s hands. What had the first time been like all those years ago? Covered with time and alcohol. Lost in indulgences. She was experiencing it all for the first time. Or possible worse; he had killed a malfunctioning machine. She had killed another SOLDIER. He ran out of questions, Tifa’s eye still large on the display. An answer, but- “You are dismissed Tifa.” She rose from her chair and stalked from the room. “Well?” “A SOLDIER.” Cloud snorted. “Never seen a girl one before.” “She’s the first of a new project. A prototype of sorts.” He whirled to face Cloud. “But she nearly evaded you did she not? You are little test almost missed what she was.” “She doesn’t know.” Hojo grinned, too close. “Prototype. Better like this.” “How can she not know what she is?” All of this staged for his benefit. The limits of their testing. If this was the direction the company was taking, how could they possibly keep-up? Of course, that was the plan. Shinra had never taken the banned well, their flouting of that restriction here telling. “Give them memories and they don’t worry about origins or how long they have left. More stable.” Hojo tapped a finger on the desk. “More controllable. The others like her?” Hojo shook his head. Tifa stopped in the middle of his apartment. “Water?” She nodded, eyes down. Cloud stumbled to the kitchen, searching through cupboards for the least unwashed glass. His own hands trembled as he filled it with water. Her hands shook when she took it. “Shakes?” Another nod. “Me too. Real bad.” A deep shuddering breath. “Never gets any easier.” Something finally went out of her and she sank back onto the sofa. She was not about to flee this time; circumstances were different now. This time she saved his life. He winced, bruises from the fight catching him. A swift change of clothes in the bedroom, and something remotely the right size for her and a blanket. She rose and left for the bathroom silently. The thread of conversation was difficult to pick up when she returned. He, drawn back into the business of executing renegade members of her kind; she the first of a new type, now reeling in the strange new knowledge that her past was a lie. Or perhaps, not even that. Someone else’s. Tifa sipped at her water, pulling the blanket around her. They shared a bottle of whiskey, left the TV blaring away with films from near a century before and the lights off. “They’re going to go to the Shinra corporation.” Her words jolted him back awake. “What?” “The other SOLDIERs.” Tifa kept her gaze on the TV. “They’ll go back. They have to. Like I- I want to.” “Why?” Tifa shook her head. “Something calls me.” “Tifa? I’ve seen your files. I’ve seen how SOLDIERs are manufactured, how the brains are put together.” Nice going, Cloud. Way to make her feel better. “There’s nothing like that.” “It’s not something designed.” Tifa fidgeted. “I can feel it now.” “What about before? While you were there?” “I-“ Tifa opened and closed her mouth a few times. “It wasn’t as bad. But it was there. Something- Something’s below the main offices. I feel like I should be there.” She turned to meet his gaze. “I know the others will too.”

#clotifallfestival2019 #cloti #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #final fantasy vii #blade runner #my ffvii fanfic

6 notes · View notes

fxckmygxtz · 5 years

Text

Blood Of Others

Word count: 2287

Warnings: War themes, injuries, minor character death, mental abuse (?), let me know if other things need to be tagged

Characters: Sephiroth, Angeal Hewley, Genesis Rhapsodos, Hojo

Authors note: This took forever to write but @blccdlet kept me motivated to do this.

Sephiroth's hands fidget around, adjusting the low ponytail his hair was held back in. He pulled it lower, then pushed it back up. He messed with the ends of his hair, already falling to his hips. If it wasn't his hair it was his gloves, tracing the seams carefully, trying to memorize the details of the leather. Leather wasn't cheap. Far from it actually. Why did they chose leather, he wondered to himself. Why was he here? A mission. They were at war of course. A trying time of blood shead on both ends. Sephiroth recalled his debrief before they send him off to war. They were going to a military town in Wutai. They were supposed to take out the main military force. It was supposed to be easy, especially for the mako enhanced SOLDIER.

"I'm doing it for them." The infantry man spoke, holding a photo of his wife and two children.

"How old are they?"

"Five and ten."

The conversation between the men caught the General's attention. It had the seventeen year old tilting his head as he looked at the photo himself. It was odd, to say the least. To have something outside of ShinRa was puzzling in itself. "What are their names?" Sephiroth spoke for the first time since they loaded up for the mission, finally sitting still. It honestly startled the two men who had been conversing of home to have such a high rank speak so commonly.

"Ah...My wife is Marina. This one is Rinku and the youngest is Silfi." The man explained, pointing to each person in the photo. "What about you? If you don't mind my asking, sir."

"My mother's name is Jenova. That's about all I know." Sephiroth stated simply, no remorse for never knowing her. A pang of sympathy fell over the two men as they heard him, though it didn't last long. "They look happy though. It's always good to have something to fight for." The rest of the conversation was lost on him. Nonsensical information is what Hojo would call it.

"If it's not important it is not worth remembering. There is much more you must learn if you are to succeed." Hojo once instructed him. He put so much into making Sephiroth perfect, as if he were trying to rival something, or someone.

_________________

Scouting the town from afar, the young male heard the whispers and hushed voices behind him. Those who doubted him of course. He could see why. Most of these men had been in war zones before. Sephiroth, had not. However he had more training than any man on this field.

"I just don't get why they let a fucking kid into a battle field. I doubt he even knows what he's doing."

"Hey keep it down. He's a First Class he's gotta know something."

"I don't care if he's in SOLDIER he's still a kid. I've got more experience than that brat-"

Clenching his fist, he sucked in a breath before relaxing once again. "It would be easier to focus without your bickering." The General spoke with authority in his tone. He could assume they froze in a panic, unaware he heard every word they had been saying quite literally behind his back. "If you wish, we could spar right now. If you win you can lead the charge. If you loose you go home with a dishonorable discharge. Is that what you want?" The silver haired male turned around, lightly glaring. "I may not be as old as you, but I know exactly what I am doing out here. This is not a game, this is war."

________________

He knew something was off when the village was bare of all life. It didn't make any sense to him, his left hand gripping his blade handle with anxiety coursing through his veins. He wasn't briefed on this. This area was supposed to be full of Wutai fighters yet there's wasn't even a civilian on the street. This wasn't right. That's when he heard it. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"It's a trap." His blood ran cold. "Retreat imedi-" It was too late, the bombs went off and the entire village went up in flames. He was thrown back and hit his head hard against one of the stone buildings. As much blunt trauma he could take, this hard of a hit had his head spinning and he felt himself blacking out.

He awoke to a burning city. He didn't know how long he'd been out for but he knew he needed to find any men who were trapped in the city. He used the wall behind him to stand himself up. He'd only seen this much destruction in the simulator but actually experiencing it all was almost overwhelming. If he hadn't the determination to save his troops he would have broken down.

Running through the flame kissed city, he noticed the back of his head felt wet, but he payed little attention to it. He managed to get several of his troops out of the city and on the way to safety, his body aching from exertion but he couldn't give up now. He hadn't covered every building, every street. There could still be people in the city. That was what kept his legs steady as he ran back and forth, making sure he could save as many as he could. He was young. He was naive.

Most of his men needed help getting out, some left in pairs telling Sephiroth where others were in the town. Some he needed to personally escort out himself. Any of his men could tell how Sephiroth desperately tried to save as many lives as he could.

That's when he saw a familiar faced trooper. He'd been trapped under burning rubble. This only seemed to motivate him further, pushing his legs to the limit to get there before it was too late.

"Hold on I'm going to l-"

"It's no use, sir. It's the end of the road for me." The broken tone the man held was will shattering, but Sephiroth hadn't given up just yet. That was, until a photo was pushed into his hand. "Tell my girls I love 'em all. Get outta here while you can. You've got big things to do, I can tell."

Sephiroth's shaking hands looked down at the photo. It was the same one from early on in the mission. "I can't- you aren't- I..." He choked on his own words and for the first time his eyes showed weakness. He watched the man die in front of him. His heart pounding in his chest and all these foreign emotions filling his mind.

What was he supposed to do about this? He just watched someone who had been so full of life return to the lifestream. What would become of his family after this? This easily could have been him. Would his body be left behind just as his infentry man? What would happen if he died? Life on Gaia would just continue on without him. Sure people would grieve. However things would just continue on as if he never was a thing to begin with. He couldn't focus, too many thoughts overwhelming him. He couldn't think straight. His mind bouncing from thought to thought.

He stood on shaking legs, pocketing the photo. It felt wrong to leave the man under the rubble but he had little choice in the matter. That's when a familiar voice called his name. At first he didn't hear it, the voice sounded so distant with the screaming in his head. Then is called again, louder this time, breaking the trance he was in.

"Sephiroth!" It was Genesis, one of his dear friends. One of his only friends. He turned to the sound, seeing Angeal not to far behind. They were running to him in a panic.

"We heard the explosion and came as soon as we could. Are you oka-" Angeal's voice trailed off. Genesis had a hand covering his mouth, eyes wide in horror. That's when Sephiroth actually looked at the damaged he had taken.

His uniform was covered in blood, the only reason he could tell in his stark black uniform was the fact that it was clung to his skin and burned. The pain hit him all at once when he looked and his sight blurred, legs buckling but not failing just yet. All this time he never realized he was hurt. He realized why he'd been winded so easily. It was very likely his torso had been bruised, maybe a rib or two cracked. His right side had been torn to shreads from the shrapnel from the bomb and it likely wasn't just that area. How had no one noticed sooner? How had he not noticed sooner? He hadn't been paying attention to how much blood had been his and how much belonged to his injured squad. His entire body ached and he had a no clue how he was still standing. He was easily the most injured aside from the fallen men. He was the closest to the bomb.

His hand moved to his side, touching the blood before he looked at his palm. The blood was a deep red, almost black. Not a good sign. That's when he recalled his head. He'd been bleeding out this entire time. "Huh. That's....not good..." His voice trembled as the realization hit him. He didn't even know how bad it truly had been.

He looked back up to his friends, sharing the same horrified look as Genesis before his legs gave out. The last thing he saw was Angeal rushing over to catch him.

Sephiroth was out before he even hit the ground.

_________________

He woke suddenly, shooting up eyes wide and darting around the room he was in. A sudden flare of pain ripped through him with the motion. The room was white, medical equipment sounded behind him.

"Woah woah hey lay back down." Angeal had been sitting next to him he realized. His body relaxed a moment when he saw his friend at his side. Angeal's hands hover over his chest and shoulder, guiding him back down onto the hospital bed without touching him. He knew his friends' discomfort with contact.

Sephiroth slowly laid back with Angeal's aid. "Genesis has been out pacing in the hallway. He's worried about you. Want me to get him?" Angeal spoke with a low voice, as if not to pain him further having just woken. He gave a small nod in response. A small smile was thrown his way and Angeal stood up and went out to get the other. Genesis was the one to open the door, relief washing over him as he saw Sephiroth. A ghost of a smile showed on Sephiroth's face when he heard the soft 'oh thank Gaia' slip past Genesis's lips. As much of a rivalry they had they did still care for another.

Genesis was quick to sit by his side, Angeal entering and closing the door. Sephiroth noted Genesis's fidgeting hands, holding up his own for him. The redhead hesitated before clasping Sephiroth's hand with both of his own. "I'm so glad you're okay..." Genesis spoke barely above a whisper.

It wasn't long until someone knocked on the door, hesitantly opening it. "General Sephiroth? Professor Hojo wishes to speak with you." Three sets of eyes landed on the woman in a lab coat. One set was hard, glaring even, questioning why this was the time to tell the injured man to get up. Another was neutral, frustrated, but not at her. The last asked a silent question.

"Tell him I'll be there in a moment." Sephiroth spoke up, breaking the silence. The woman nods and quickly fled the room.

"You can't be serious. You need to rest!" Genesis spoke up before Angeal could.

"Genesis is right. You shouldn't be walking around, especially to Hojo."

"I've little choice." Sephiroth was already in the process of getting up, wincing as he did. Genesis went to help but froze mid way through the action. "At least let us help you get there." Angeal said as he saw how shakily Sephiroth was standing.

"Fine..."

_________________

It took some time, needing more help than he'd like to admit, before the three were in front of Hojo's office. His two friends agreed to wait for him so they could help him back. Taking a deep breath, Sephiroth knocked on the door then entered the room. "Professor Hojo, you wanted to see me?"

"I heard about your last mission." Hojo spoke, his voice harsh and Sephiroth immediately knew why he'd been called down here. "That was reckless. Unnecessary even. Their lives are worthless compaired to yours. Do you know how much funds to train would would have been wasted if you died? Worse, what would happen if the Wutai forces found your body?"

Sephiroth's gase fell down, unable to make eye contact any longer. "My apologies. It was the heat of the moment, I hadn't realized that-"

"That you were injured? That they weren't as important as you?" Hojo cut him off. "Please. You were trained better than this. You should know that a petty few infantry men are worthless compaired to you, a First Class SOLDIER. If it wasn't for those other First Class you would be dead even with all your enhancements."

"It won't happen again." Sephiroth muttered, his fists clenched not raising his gase still.

"Look at me while I'm taking to you." Hojo snapped, grabbing Sephiroth's chin and making the silver haired man look up. "Do not let this happen again. I will not be so kind next time. Now go. I have work to do."

#final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #ff7 #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #tw gore #tw war #tw character death #tw abuse

19 notes · View notes

up-sideand-down · 5 years

Text

Sefikura Week Day 5: New Beginnings

The delivery guy that came so recommended rode in on a motorcycle. Not that Seph judged those types of things...it just didn’t seem like the type of vehicle that allowed him to carry a lot of packages. And Seph had several things he had ordered.

“Just easier to see what’s around me,” the blonde delivery man said as Sephiroth signed, “not that I need to here...I didn’t even know this place was a farm. I thought it was all just wasteland.”

“I’m sure it isn’t any more,” Sephiroth agreed, “but maybe now that Midgar’s reactors are gone...it could be something else.”

“Well good luck to you,” the delivery man said. He had been the only person to do so. The ShinRa’s laughed, despite quickly going bankrupt themselves. The few SOLDIERs left thought he was crazy. He would be much better suited to mercenary work.

He opened his package until he found one filled with seeds, fruits and veggies yes, but also some flowers and grasses as well. He didn’t know what once grew around here.

“I just don’t want to destroy things anymore,” he told them.

He was thankful after the first rain that he had only gotten to planting a few crops. Trying to find any ground that was fertile at all. The flash flood didn’t recede for days, but luckily his cabin was on higher ground. Probably why it had still been standing when he bought the place.

“Wutai survives these,” he told his survivors, “they make...what did they call them, ‘floating gardens’ something like that. I doubt I can get a farmer to tell me how...but perhaps I can engineer something.

He had mounds built when the delivery man came back, this time with pallets and planks of wood.

“That dirt is just gonna wash away next time it rains,” he pointed out, “no matter how much wood you put around it. It’s too silty.” Sephiroth knew he was right.

“I bet there might be something thicker if you dig deeper,” the delivery guy said, “there should be halfway decent farmland beneath the dusty crap...if the history books are right. And you’ve got a good water well...it’s not all lost...probably.”

“So long as they weren’t published by ShinRa,” Sephiroth said.

“Maybe some pots to start with once you get some good soil,” the delivery man said, “Or a little garden bed. There’s nothing wrong with starting small.”

Sephiroth had to dig half a meter to find that soil, but find it he did. In patches. He also ordered some pots for his flowers, perhaps one for a tomato plant or to start a tree.

The delivery man came quickly enough. He let Sephiroth sign before he noticed the garden bed.

“That is atrocious,” he said. Not cruelly. Sephiroth knew he was correct. Then the delivery man went back to his bike and came back with a set of tools.

“I couldn’t ask you for that,” Sephiroth said, “I don’t even know your name.”

“Cloud,” he said, “and I cannot leave you with this monstrosity.”

When he left, the garden bed was much neater and sturdier. Sephiroth felt confident in adding another two wheelbarrows of good soil to it before planting.

There were green buds peeking out of his pots when his next packages came. Cloud seemed dubious as he watched Sephiroth untangle the wire from the fence he ordered.

“I’m sure I can put it up, thank you,” Sephiroth said.

“It will be faster with two,” Cloud said.

“I’m sure you have other deliveries to manage,” Sephiroth said.

“I had a sneaking suspicion I should make you my last stop,” Cloud said. It was faster with two. And Sephiroth got an idea on how to build this stupid fence.

“The wolves don’t get too close,” he said, “but once I figure out how to fight the dust and the flooding I don’t want them here.”

“That’s fair enough,” Cloud said, “they know there’s no food around here...yet.” Sephiroth smiled.

“Where do you get your food?” Cloud said.

“I have a lot of canned and preserved foods,” Sephiroth said, “and a sturdy freezer.”

“Thank goodness,” Cloud said, “I was wondering I should be bringing you food too.”

He had a proper sprout when Cloud stopped by “just because” for the first time. He had brought beer and some sort of casserole. He didn’t ask why or for what reason, just sat and drank beer and regaled Sephiroth with delivery stories.

It was a nice visit.

“Good,” Cloud said, “I didn’t take you for a hermit anyway.”

He was mourning three of his potted plants that died. He just couldn’t figure out why. Angeal would be disappointed in him.

Cloud was delivering the composter that would be their temporary grave.

“Might just be the climate,” he offered, “too hot for them, too cold for them. You got farther than I ever have.”

“I also brought you these,” he said, handing over a handmade packet of seeds, “a friend of mine grows them not too far from here. Let’s see if you can to. They’re flowers, big beautiful flowers.”

“Thank you,” Sephiroth said feeling oddly touched. Cloud smiled at that, then lifted a pot of something.

“I reversed engineered my mother’s stew,” Cloud said, “and brought enough to feed you for a week.”

Sephiroth rather enjoyed that week too.

He was celebrating his tomatoes. They were alive and well, along with the lilies Cloud had gifted him. He might even be able to harvest some too.

Cloud delivered a person instead. Sephiroth felt his blood drain.

But instead of a hate fueled tirade, the wutainese princess fell to the ground laughing.

“I really thought you were shitting me Cloud,” Yuffie said, “The Demon of Wutai...farming!” It took almost twenty minutes for her to stop giggling.

She agreed to share some books about how the Wutai people conquered monsoon season.

“My father is never going to believe this,” she said.

“How do you know her?” he asked Cloud. Cloud just shrugged.

“I meet a lot of weird people,” he offered up.

He only realized after she had gone that she had swiped his only blooming lily pot. He figured he deserved it. Cloud brought it back the next day.

Cloud stopped one day, sitting on his bike and staring. He’d been coming and going for months...and just hadn’t seen the green seeping in. Part of him knew it was because Midgar wasn’t sucking the life out of the area, but part of him thought it might be from all the care Sephiroth had been pouring out here, for no other reason than because he could.

“You’re getting grass,” Cloud said, when he heard the wood creaking on the porch, “never thought it would happen in my lifetime.”

“And I’ve got tomatoes and potatoes,” Sephiroth said. He had a little bowl full of them. Cloud laughed when Sephiroth handed them over.

“I’ve heard your first bit should be given away,” Sephiroth said, “I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to give them too.” Cloud tucked the bowl neatly in one of Fenrir’s compartments, writing a note to return it.

“Hey...Seph?” he asked, “I know you’re a busy farmer and all...but would you want to...go for a ride with me?” Sephiroth was quiet for a long moment.

“I actually would really love to,” Sephiroth said.

Sephiroth felt the wind in his hair and Cloud��s shoulder under his cheek and wondered if this was what a fresh start was meant to be like.

#sefikura week 2019 #sefikura #cloud strife #sephiroth #i don't know what this is #but here it is

154 notes · View notes

neko-mun-rp · 5 years

Text

Time Travel verse (closed)

@letsheckinmosey [x]

“Th-The top-??”

In retrospect, perhaps Cloud should have held back a little more. Though, doing so as much as he did was already easier said than done. Any more and he would have just looked lazy. Granted, he still couldn’t believe no one else beat him. That’s what happened when you had an unfair advantage.

“I-I uh…” The blond really had to think about Sephiroth’s offer. Even then, as calm as he appeared, Cloud’s mind was going haywire. The sight of the silver-haired man, mad with glee as he loomed over him, finally taking his life, was not one he would soon forget.

However, even this had its advantages. With this partnership, Cloud could keep a closer eye on Sephiroth. If they got close enough, then maybe he could listen to him and NOT GO TO THE REACTOR. Because that was the endgame. Keeping Sephiroth away from Jenova. If nothing else, if Cloud can manage this much, then he’s basically succeeded.

Furthermore, as much as Cloud wanted to see Zack, he deemed it best to stay away from him. The less likely Zack is to want to save him, the better, if things go wrong.

“…Alright.” Cloud nodded and saluted his superior. “…It would be an honor to work with you, sir.”

As he waited for a response Sephiroth wasn’t sure what the new recruit would say. On the one hand he was strongest warrior in Shinra and being his partner would definitely be a good move that had benefits, but on the other hand it was Sephiroth- the man many feared and wouldn’t want to risk pissing him off and end up getting killed.

When Cloud did answer the general was pleased to have him accept. “Indeed it is your honor, I’m pleased to have someone worthy to accept the wisdom and skills I have to offer.” Sephiroth was also happy to rub it in Zack’s face that he got the top recruit first. “Follow me and we can let the other recruits know their results.”

The general led the way through the halls, on the way Sephiroth looked at the folder with the results and read down the list of names. “I don’t envy those with the lowest scores, they will be put through enhancement training to catch up with the others...”

#letsheckinmosey #Muse: Sephiroth

2 notes · View notes

nikkxb · 6 years

Text

A New Role

Final Fantasy VII (mostly Crisis Core) Pairing: AeriSeph Rating: Teen Prompt: From @uchihacollector : “AU wish. New fandom, if you are brave: Final Fantasy 7 Crisis Core. There is a full HD video of the game (like 3h) on youtube. All the important characters are introduced in like the first 30 minutes. I want to request a Music AU in a big city, of characters YOU like. I think you'll like Angeal. College AU for @auyeahaugust Author’s Note:

Listen. It’ll just be easier for us all if you go into this knowing Sephiroth is a little OOC and that I really don’t care. More notes about the AU at the end!

“Again.”

Aeris jerked awake, the echo of his deep baritone rattling around the silent room. It had been two weeks since classes ended and three weeks since his final, but she hadn’t escaped his grasp yet. The dreams didn’t mean anything, just washes of color and different landscapes that didn’t make sense, all to end with her nervous and anxious and waiting for something before hearing his bitter disappointment pull her out of sleep.

She threw off the covers and stalked to the kitchen, looking for peace a glass of water might offer.

Sitting in the small kitchenette, she let the silence of the night embrace her. Being awake at 3:30 in the morning should be a good thing, like coming home late from a party or catching a midnight showing at the theater.

Intense dreams and haunting voices and humiliating memories of repeated failures? Not a good reason to be awake and hopefully, she’d get back to sleep soon. Last time she woke up to his voice demanding perfection, she watched the sun rise. Not this time. Not going to happen again. She was going to finish her water, wash her face, climb right back into bed, and go back to sleep. No way was she going to let him keep the control he somehow held over her.

Aeris downed her glass, sipped a second, then washed the cup and left it in the sink. She took her time washing her face, ears, and neck, and even went further to apply moisturizer and a night cream. She changed into comfortable pajamas, turned the air down low and the fan up high, and crawled under the warm comforters. On her side, head against a soft pillow and her body curled around the sheets, she closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, and banished every thought that wasn’t getting to sleep.

Somehow, she did.

“Hey, Aeris! Over here!”

Taking a breath, she made her way through the tables until she found Zack. She knew there was going to be a group – he somehow managed to get her to agree to meet him and “a couple friends” for drinks and she couldn’t get out of it. Sly man knew her work schedule. So she put on a smile and a cool sundress, hoping the comfortable fabric would help keep her at ease with whoever Zack managed to bring out.

She spotted his messy black hair instantly and didn’t look at others until she got closer. A few other undergrads lingered around, but Zack was sitting with three of the TAs. Him being one of them.

Her steps stuttered, but she continued on. She’d had classes with Angeal and Sephiroth, the former being one of her favorites and the latter being an experience she wish she didn’t remember, but hadn’t had Genesis. The guitarist didn’t teach many and instead focused on his own course load. How he managed to foist those responsibilities onto the other two, she didn’t know.

Angeal smiled warmly in welcome, shifting down the bench to offer her a seat next to Zack. She took it, grateful to be sitting between two people she knew, but it put her directly across from that icy green stare.

“Took you long enough!” Zack said before she could open her mouth, his heavy arm draping over her shoulders. “I almost thought you were going to stand me up.”

“Please,” she protested. “You’d just show up at my door and drag me out anyway.”

He laughed and it helped her ease her shoulders. Just a little. If Zack was here and carefree and laughing, she might be able to relax and enjoy herself, too.

“It’s nice to see you out of class, Aeris,” Angeal said from her left and she turned to offer him a smile.

“You, too! Though I’m certain you usually don’t enjoy hanging out with your students during breaks.”

“You’re not my student anymore,” he reminded her. “Not after that perfect score you got on my exam.”

Her cheeks heated, a little bashful under the reminder. She’d studied her ass off for that final.

“I trust you know Sephiroth and Genesis?” he asked, nodding toward the two men across from them.

“Ms. Gainsborough was in one of my classes last semester as well,” Sephiroth answered for her, his deep voice just as captivating here as it was in her dreams. She suppressed a shudder at the idea of adding more statements to pull her out of sleep. “She did rather well.”

Aeris blinked. She did well? According to his demeanor over the last half of the semester, as well as every word, every demand, every bit of attention he’d ever given her, she’d barely scraped by!

Genesis’s chuckle broke her from her surprise. “Seems you enjoy scaring all of your students. You really enjoy making them feel like they’re failing?”

Thankfully, Zack jumped right back in. “Aeris? Fail? She’s the only reason I passed my theory class.”

“No,” she forced, latching onto the new topic with an urgency she tried to hide, “the only reason you passed theory is because Angeal was kind enough to accept your late work.”

A few other classmates took that moment to drop in, finally moving the conversation from her. It was easy to enjoy food and drinks and tales of how others were faring, though it wasn’t easy to ignore the quiet stare from across the table.

He didn’t say anything more and when she left, she gave herself a mental pat on the back for not quivering in her seat.

Meeting up with the grad students became a weekly thing. It was apparent Zack had become good friends with them over the last semester and enjoyed hanging out. He seemed determined to rope her into it, too. She tried not to mind too much. It was a nice interlude between the boring summer that was only disrupted by her job on campus.

Angeal had a wonderful sense of humor, something she’d known during classes, but hadn’t been privy to being on the receiving end of. Genesis was just as flighty in real life as he appeared in forums, but the man was still a genius when it came to manipulating the guitar strings. She still couldn’t understand how he heard the hidden keys to perform his runs in, but she definitely enjoyed watching the process. Maybe one day, she’d get him to teach her.

Ha! Maybe.

Sephiroth was still just as much a mystery as he had been during the semester. Quiet and contained, he seemed content to watch her with those eerily bright eyes, letting the silence say all he needed to say. Thankfully, she didn’t get caught under that spell often as Zack kept her laughing. But despite the voice still in her dreams and the memories of his disdain over her failure to master the keys so fresh in her mind, intrigue grew.

A month into their meetups, Aeris was late. Way late. Work had been long and the weather had been terrible and by the time she got home, she needed nothing more than a shower. The hot water had felt better than she realized and forty-five minutes after their usual meet up time, she pulled open the doors to the bar and peeked inside.

For once, the flash of silver hair and searing green eyes had her breathing a sigh of relief. She hadn’t missed them.

As she got closer, she realized it was only Sephiroth at the table, a single glass of amber liquid in front of him. Looking around, she wondered if the guys were at the bar or if they were over playing with the high-tech jukebox, but she couldn’t find them anywhere. Did they already leave?

Hesitantly, she approached the table. She wasn’t certain her company would be welcome if they were the only ones there, but it seemed rude not to check on him anyway. Maybe everyone else was running as late as she.

“Where is everyone?” she asked as she took a seat, ignoring the nerves skittering over her skin.

She’d never get used to the potency of his stare from this close.

Instead of answering, he waved over the waiter and let her place her order. Seemed he welcomed her company even though he didn’t seem to put any stock into it before.

“It appears to be just us this evening,” he finally answered once the waiter left after delivering her drink.

“Really?”

A nod, though not surprising. He didn’t waste many words.

“I’m sorry I’m so late, then.” The cider was clean and crisp on her tongue and just what she needed after such a long day. “I didn’t realize you’d be sitting here alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

She offered a wry smile. While he might not mind his own company, she seriously doubted he didn’t have a problem with tardiness. “I got caught in the rain on my way home from work,” she explained anyway, “then lost track of time in the shower. By the time I realized what time it was, I rushed here as soon as I could.”

Sephiroth watched her in silence, his gaze touching on her wet hair, her makeup-free face, and the clean clothes she tossed on before returning to her own green eyes. “Aeris, I don’t mind.”

Her smile softened, an unsettled quiver running through her at the sound of his voice curling around her name. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

He held up his glass in answer and she clinked her bottle against it. Maybe enjoying a quiet drink with Sephiroth wouldn’t be so bad.

“Did you really believe you were failing my class?” he asked suddenly.

Blinking at him her mind raced, remembering what Genesis joked about that first time. It wasn’t something she expected him to discuss — Sephiroth had a strict stance on his teaching style and it hadn’t been something he hid. She’d known what to expect the moment she received his syllabus.

“It was hard not to,” she answered with a tight smile, a probably failed attempt at laughing it off. “You…you were demanding and sometimes, it seemed like nothing we did would ever be good enough. Not that I think that was necessarily a bad thing,” she rushed to clarify, hoping desperately she didn’t offend him and ruin whatever sort of truce had been built since the end of the semester. “I learned a lot and I know some of those lessons I won’t forget.”

He didn’t respond and she didn’t expect him to, so Aeris filled the silence by sipping more of her cider. It didn’t feel awkward or tense, not like she would have guessed after having this conversation, but Sephiroth was still studying her in that quiet way of his.

“How long have you known Zack?”

Well, that was out of left field, but it was a much safer topic. “Going on three years. I had the unfortunate luck to sit next to him during our first music theory class and he’s stuck by me since.”

“And how long have you been dating?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “We’re not dating. Haven’t ever dated. He’s just a friend.” Cocking her head to the side, she thought back over all the times he would have seen them together. Nothing jumped out at her that would signal any bond other than a platonic one. “Why?”

Something that looked like satisfaction crossed his features and he waved for the waiter again. “Would you like another one?”

Now he was just messing with her. Sephiroth always left everyone to order their own drinks, but she decided to take the bait. Whatever it was for.

“Sure.”

“You really don’t have to walk me home.”

He still didn’t say anything and unlike the beginning of the night, Aeris didn’t mind his silence. Of course, that was probably due to the three ciders with no dinner buzzing around the edges of her consciousness.

“Seriously, Sephiroth, I’m three blocks away. I can make it there on my own.”

Still nothing. Not a single word as he shoved his hands in his pockets and continued escorting her down the sidewalk.

“You usually leave in the opposite direction,” she pushed. “You don’t have to waste your time, it’s perfectly okay.”

That effort to get her way fell flat as he leveled her with a stern stare, not a single pause in his step.

Taking in another breath, she tried a different approach. “Look, it’s really nice of you, but I’m used to it. Zack usually parts ways here and heads on home and it’s really not—”

“Zack lets you walk home alone?” he interrupted and judging from his tone, it was not something she should have told him.

“Sephiroth—”

“For the last month, you’ve been walking home alone?” he asked again, his voice even colder.

“It’s really not that big of a deal—”

“Aeris.”

Her jaw snapped shut, wisely deciding to cease her arguments. There was the tone, the same tone she heard in her dreams. The demand for perfection when her fingers fumbled over the keys or when her hands hesitated just a little too long and knocked off the rhythm. She’d heard that far too many times during the semester over the soft sounds of the piano and she knew better than to argue.

It seemed Sephiroth was determined to see her to her door and judging from the clench in his jaw, he wasn’t going to accept any other option.

They walked in silence, this one more tense than the small ones they fell in at the bar. She didn’t know what to think of this. Was he really that polite? Or worried about her safety? He hadn’t shown anything that would amount to this before, but she wouldn’t lie — it was nice to have the company. Usually, once Zack disappeared, she all but ran the remaining blocks to her building and darted up the stairs to her floor. Having Sephiroth there was…nice.

Which was weird. His company hadn’t ever been a soothing one, nor had she relished all the times he’d stood at her side while she struggled through a new passage. Maybe it was because his displeasure wasn’t directed at her that made it easier for her to enjoy it.

Aeris figured he would see her to the building and be done, but one glance at his expectant face told her otherwise. Pulling out her keycard, she swiped it through the scanner and led them both into the building. It wasn’t terrible to have his presence behind her and for once, she made her way to the elevator instead of the stairwell.

“I usually take the stairs,” she found herself explaining. “It works off some of those calories and I have this super irrational fear of being stuck in one alone, but I’m not alone now and it would be an awful way to repay your kindness to have you climb up six flights unnecessarily.”

He said nothing, though the corner of his lips twitched. She counted that as a success.

The elevator ride was quiet, too, and the floor of her dorm empty when the elevator arrived. She had been lucky to keep her dorm through the summer months instead of moving to a different one, but no one else on her floor had stayed that summer. She hadn’t thought much of the privacy before then, but with Sephiroth still at her side, she was grateful to be away from prying eyes.

“This is me,” she announced, fishing her keys out of her small purse as she came to a stop in front of her door. Fitting the key in the hole, she unlocked the door and finally turned to him. “Thank you for walking me up.”

He didn’t say anything, just continued watching her in that quiet, calculating way of his.

“Sorry for making you walk all this way.” She still couldn’t believe he was standing there in her hallway. “And now you have even further to go before you’re home and you really didn’t—”

“Aeris.”

She grimaced, the sudden softness in his tone exposing how ungrateful she was being. “Sorry! I just— uh…” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

With one last look, she let herself into the apartment, locked the door behind her, and sank to the floor, wondering what on earth just happened.

“Sephiroth, you live in the other direction. What are you doing?”

He fell in step beside her again, much to the confusion of the rest of the group, particularly Zack.

“Walking Aeris home.”

Three questioning stares flicked from him to her and Aeris fought not to squirm under the scrutiny.

“You don’t have to, I—”

“Leave her to walk alone,” he interrupted, his tone short.

Damn, Sephiroth was not happy. She knew he hadn’t been content with her answers the last time, but she hadn’t known he would hold such contempt toward Zack about it now.

“Well, I mean, it’s only a few blocks—”

“I am walking her home.”

Silence stretched between them, only amplified when Genesis started snickering. Aeris kept her gaze in the direction of her building, not wanting to see whatever thoughts were flickering across Angeal’s face, and definitely not the contention between Zack and Sephiroth. Finally, something gave and she assumed it was Zack because the three of them began the route to her dorm.

Tension eased as soon as Zack parted ways, hollering a tipsy goodnight and leaving them to their devices. It wasn’t comfortable to be alone with Sephiroth, so very aware of his tall frame beside her, but it wasn’t as awkward as it had been the week before. It seemed she was slowly growing accustomed to his presence.

Into the building, up the elevator — oh, this really was such a relief to use instead of the staircase — and to her door again. Key into the lock and it seemed much less tense than it had the week before. Almost as if she enjoyed his silent company watching over her.

“Thank you for walking me up—”

His thumb and finger gently grasped her chin, angled her face up, and he silenced her with the soft press of his lips against hers. He only touched her in those two places, but heat seared down her body as if he had pressed against her completely.

“Have a good night, Aeris,” he whispered against her lips. His breath coasted her skin in a soft caress before he released her, watched her get safely inside, and then left.

That night his voice floated through her dreams, and for the first time ever since she started hearing him in her sleep, she slept the whole night through.

She saw him three more times before he pressed her against her door, then left. Another two times before she invited him in and he pressed her into her sofa, then left again. Aeris didn’t make it two days before she texted him, met him at the door to her building where he pressed her against the wall, the elevator door, and then finally into her mattress, and then he didn’t leave until morning.

Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis are all grad students: Sephiroth and Genesis for Jazz Instrumental Performance (piano and guitar) and Angeal for Music Theory and Composition with an unofficial jazz emphasis. Zack’s undergrad major is Instrumental Performance in percussion and Aeris is Music Therapy. I think. (Honestly, I haven’t given a whole lot of thought to her major, but that really fits her and I like the idea of it. She just excels at theory, so Zack stuck to her like white on rice. Also, Zack’s starting to take up more and more jazz classes, so I think he changed his focus from classical to jazz, too.)

Angeal’s the best theory teacher the school has. Sephiroth got stuck teaching a piano class and isn’t really happy about it, but did what he needed to do for his scholarship to keep paying out. Genesis somehow finagled his way out of teaching and I think it’s because he forewent the scholarship, paying out of pocket through student loans and money he makes from performing gigs in the city. Or maybe he got the scholarship anyway and plays favorites to the dean. Who knows.

For Aeris’s fear of the elevator -- I think her fear of the sky makes perfect fucking sense in the game considering she’s from the slums and never, ever sees the sky, but I’ve heard a lot of criticism for it. So instead of ignoring it (because really, it makes so much sense and I’ve seen it in people who have never seen the ocean looking at the beach for the first time), I translated it into a silly fear she’s aware is silly because we all have those.

A lot of this is based on my own experiences, though it ends a whole lot better than my real life friend being hit on by our real life TA. Know your comfort, kids! If you’re okay with a former grad student hitting on you during summer when you’re no longer their student, have fun. If you’re not, reject their advances. If they don't listen, buckle down with supportive friends, dig your heels in, and put that grad student in their place. They'll back off. And if they don't, you blast that all over everywhere because the university/college will pay attention to that shit on social media. You’ll be fine, I promise, especially if you have good people at your back.

I wanted to add more to this drabble, but the more I got to know the characters in the game, the more I almost sent Aeris after Angeal because oh man is that boy one fine tree I’d love to climb. But I figured this idea would fit Aeris and Sephiroth best and I like the idea of Angeal getting it on with another grad student while quietly lusting after Zack. Whatever works.

I’m aware this seems OOC for Sephiroth, but it makes sense in my head. That’s probably due to the large amount of backstory and other scenes in my head that didn’t make it out. HOWEVER this is supposed to be a drabble and it’s already over 3k words, so I tried to cut out everything else and keep it short.

And that’s it for the long author’s note. Let me know what you think!!

#final fantasy vii #aeriseph #sephiroth #aeris gainsborough #aerith gainsborough #final fantasy crisis core #auyeahaugust #au yeah august #ff7 #my stuff #fanfiction #college au #i had a lot of fun with this one #still angry at lady for getting me into it #a new role

36 notes · View notes

ghostofnibelheim · 2 years

Text

oflockharted:

T lets those words sink in as they carried on closer to a small cottage in the distance. Sephiroth certainly wasn’t wrong about holding her guard. Even around vice president Rufus. The senior Shinra abused his power to the fullest extent. Everyone knew. Who was to say his son was any different? It was imperative T—no—everyone, remain on guard around their future boss.

Even if they were destined to protect him one day.

A small laugh comes bubbling out of her chest after the silverette’s two cents on Rufus as a love interest. Honestly now, “What was that? Don’t be silly. We can’t afford connections like that around the workplace,” something about saying that brought a hint of sadness in her tone. But not for the reasons of Rufus romantic unavailability to his employees, “…It’ll never work. Besides, I’m not interested in relationships. I guess… I’m just a little afraid for the future of shinra, you know?” of course Rufus was popular among men and women alike. He was handsome and charming. However, unbeknownst to most, Tifa held a strong affinity towards her red haired superior. That was where her soft spot lingered. And it was painful. She rather remain alone on her own terms than be told outright she was not allowed romantic escapades with her co-workers. Especially a superior she adored and admired greatly.

Sephiroth didn’t need to know about any of that, though.

T simply nods afterwards, a smile reaching her lips. She would never think to question Sephiroth’s relationship choices if he didn’t want it. But her main interest was more of Rufus’ intentions on how he planned to run the company. Tifa wasn’t as close with the vice president like main turks, so she wouldn’t have a clue. She was used and exploited by Mr. Shinra for her abilities to communicate in a civil manner with extraterrestrial beings—strange as it were. That was basically all she was good for.

Upon reaching the front door, T puts on her ‘customer service’ facade and knocks sternly on the wooden surface.

A moment passes.

Nothing.

Zeroing in on the noises inside, or rather, lack thereof, she suddenly picks up what sounded like glasses breaking, and a back door slamming open as a male voice urges others to hurry along. Either the witness was planning to flee, or he wanted an advantage before starting a fight.

What tore up T the most was when they were runners…

The desperation they had in all their attempts because their lives were in jeopardy… It hurt so much…

Sighing, Tifa disappointingly shakes her head, beckoning the silver haired SOLDIER along, “Looks like we got a runner. Let’s go.”

He approved T’s response. Sephiroth’s sentiment was the same, the workplace was no environment to nurture romantic interests. Then again, this came easier to him more than most, as he didn’t find himself wanting for that at all. The ‘workplace’ comprised the entirety of his life, even when off-duty. To find someone at least serious enough to share that sentiment was a welcome change of pace, and the subtle bitterness in her words escaped him.

What he disagreed on however, was her concern for the company.

ShinRa wasn’t going anywhere. Whoever succeeded the President in holding its reins would bring little meaning for the corporation itself, so long as there’d be mako to be extracted, ShinRa would thrive.

Now, what that meant for the people under its talon… that was a different story entirely.

He said nothing of those thoughts, remaining silent as they had approached the cottage. Sephiroth’s focus was on the house, the telltale signs of movements coming from within. His intuition moved in tune with the girl’s, silver brows furrowing over green eyes of steel.

He contrasted her invitation to follow, preferring to take the matters in his own hands from here. Teamwork had never been his forte, as his old friends could probably testify.

“Round ‘em up.” He said cooly, one hand reaching to find the handle of the sword handle behind his waistline. With just that, he leapt and disappeared past the roof of the cottage with the grace of a bird of prey whose latches had been released by his falconeer.

She was fast, he trusted her to be able to intercept the girls, should their target try and make a separate escape.

#01B || This goes on your permanent record. [IC: Sephiroth]#12F || Your hero is nowhere in sight. [Tifa Lockhart]#03J || Turk T [AU]#oflockharted #00H || I've seen this before. [Transfer from Primary Blog]

1 note · View note

missingmywing · 6 years

Text

Kunsel’s Origins

. . . . .

Kunsel looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then sighed and reached up towards his head. “We all have our secrets, Cloud.” He began unbuckling his helmet.

Cloud’s eyes widened. Kunsel never took off his helmet. As far as Cloud knew, no one had any idea what he looked like without it. He’d apparently never shown anyone, not even Zack.

As Kunsel pulled his helmet off, and their eyes met, Cloud realized why. “You’re Wutaian,” he breathed.

Kunsel smiled bitterly, and gestured for the blond to sit with him. Cloud complied, still staring at him in shock. Suddenly a lot of things made sense.

With a sigh, Kunsel began talking. “I’m actually from Umigake. It’s a town along the coast of Wutai,” he added at Cloud’s confused frown. “It wasn’t the first town to be hit during the war, obviously, but it was one of the earlier ones. It wasn’t particularly important, so it’s not mentioned in any of the books.” He grimaced. “Just one more obstacle conquered on the way to the capital,” he sighed, shaking his head. “It was my first experience with Shinra. And,” his lips twisted up wryly, “my first experience with General Sephiroth and his two commanders.” He reached up, fingers brushing the crisscrossing scars along the top right side of his face, the large burn scar across his temple that disappeared beneath his hair.

Cloud’s breath left him as the implications of that information sank in. “Kunsel…” he breathed, horrified.

The other sent him a wry smirk. “Pretty much. Course, they weren’t so high ranking then. They were still pretty young at the time, thirteen or fourteen and still trying to prove themselves, but… they were effective nonetheless.” He ran his hand through his sleek black hair, styled with sidebangs and a short ponytail that he hid beneath the helmet. “I was pretty young at the time, around seven or eight, so my main memory of the event is all the fire.” His eyes glazed over as he remembered. “We didn’t hear what was going to happen until about five or six hours before it did. We already had plans in place, of course, for when something did happen, but… it was terrifying nonetheless. When they did get there, all of us, the children, elders, and most of the women, were hidden beneath the false floors of the houses. Everyone else was outside, ready to fight back.” He swallowed quietly. “Not that they ever would have stood a chance. When Shinra arrived they gave the option to surrender. We could still hear them even inside the houses. They refused, of course, and said that everyone else was gone, that Shinra would have no place to hold there,” he let out a shuddering sigh.

“And that’s when everything was set on fire.” He chuckled bitterly, “Commander Rhapsodos has a natural ability with all Materia, but especially so with Fire. A mastered Fire with a mastered All is a very, very dangerous combination. And not very much survives when it’s put into action.”

Cloud swallowed, feeling sick, thinking of how often Kunsel and Genesis worked together, both on missions and off. They were friends, almost. That was… that was awful. “How… how did you… how do you…?”

Kunsel glanced over at him, seeming to come back to himself. “How did I end up here, and how do I stand it?” he asked, quizzically.

Cloud nodded mutely.

Kunsel huffed, leaning back against the loveseat. “Well, Kaa-san and I survived out of luck. A few others hiding did as well. Tou-san and the others were… not so lucky. I don’t know who killed him, I didn’t look to see. And I don’t think I want to. I admired him, and I don’t want to have to go on an honor-bound revenge trip if it turns out Genesis, Angeal, or Sephiroth did it. I’m happier not knowing, I think. But those of us who survived decided that we had a better chance of surviving in a place that wasn’t a war-zone. So we, using certain secret ways that don’t actually exist,” he winked at Cloud with a secretive, if wane, smile, “got smuggled across two continents and into Midgar’s slums. As I’m sure you can imagine, life didn’t get much easier from there.”

Shaking his head, he got up and disappeared into the kitchen of the Second Class apartment he shared with Zack, returning a moment later with two bottles of water. He tossed one to Cloud, who caught it gratefully, and flopped back down on the loveseat next to the couch. He took several swallows of it before setting it aside.

“Money was constantly tight, and a lot of the time we scraped by on one meal a day and constant work and haggling. It was hard, but it was possible for a while. And the Kaa-san got sick, and suddenly it wasn’t enough anymore. Friends helped where they could, but they were just as bad off as we were. I joined Shinra out of desperation, because I had no other options. I met Zack in the cadet program, and I’ve wondered many times if I did something to convince Leviathan to give me his blessing, because I’m still convinced that Zackary Fair is a literal god-send.”

Cloud snorted, but didn’t disagree. He’d had a few of the same thoughts himself before, wondering if he did something to make Odin favor him. Zack was the closest thing to an actual angel that he’d ever met, not that he’d ever tell him that.

Kunsel flashed him a small smile that told him the other understood. “He never asked why I kept my face concealed, though everyone else wondered and speculated. He just shrugged and said if I wanted to be a ninja, go for it. His literal words, mind you.” He added, shaking his head. Cloud hid a grin. That sounded exactly like Zack. “He’s the main reason I’ve been able to stand being here. Any time I feel like I just can’t take anymore of the company’s bullshit, I just think of him and how much he really, truly, wants to help everyone. He’s not the only reason,” Kunsel added quickly, “even if he is the main one. But there are good people here, even if they’re often overshadowed by the bad. There’s you, and your squad which are fairly decent despite containing a Turk spy.”

Cloud snorted and shook his head. “Don’t let Isa hear you calling her that. She might stab you for blowing her cover. We’re not, strictly speaking, supposed to know that ‘failing out’ of the Turk program doesn’t mean you’re not a Turk.”

Kunsel chuckled. “Perhaps if she guarded her cover better…”

“Maybe if you didn’t know everything…” Cloud retorted back.

Kunsel inclined his head. “Fair enough, I suppose. Though your squad seems knowledgeable enough…”

Cloud shrugged. “She… isn’t quite as good at keeping secrets as she thinks she is.”

“My point remains.”

Cloud hesitated for a brief moment before returning to the previous point. “What about… Sephiroth, and the others?”

“Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal…” Kunsel mused, considering. “I guess that’s a fair question, considering. Mostly, I look at them as humans. Which shouldn’t be shocking, I know, but when you consider everything you hear about them… I look at them, not as the monsters that Wutai considers them as, or as the gods the the easterners consider them to be, but as humans thrust into war as children, as unhappy to be there as I was. It may be a bit incorrect, as they were far more willing to participate than I was, I’m sure, but… it makes it easier. And they aren’t awful people, either. I actually rather like Angeal. Zack has, no doubt, created a bit of a bias in that respect. It helps me deal with it. Genesis has an awful temper, and he’s impatient and arrogant, but he’s a decent person at heart. And Sephiroth…” he winced, “he’s… probably more of a victim than anyone else.” He huffed out a wry chuckle. “And yet, despite everything, I can’t even say I hate it here. Despite everything, Midgar, SOLDIER, has become home. Maybe if things had turned out differently, maybe if the war had ended sooner, if Kaa-san hadn’t died, I would have resigned and returned to Wutai. But now… I don’t really want to. I’ve lived in Midgar longer than I lived in Wutai, and I have more emotional connections here than I ever had there.” He shook his head, running his hand through his hair. “Maybe that makes me a bad person, or a traitor to my culture. I don’t know.”

Cloud shook his head. “I don’t think that it makes you a bad person. After everything you’ve been through, after all the effort you’ve put in to be brave and to survive, I think you deserve a bit of a break to do what you want.” He let out a wry huff, clasping his hands in his lap. “I don’t think I’d be brave enough or strong enough to do any of that.”

Kunsel reached over and ruffled his hair. “I think you’d be surprised what you can do if you feel it’s necessary.”

Cloud raised his brow skeptically. “If you say so.”

“I absolutely do.” Kunsel replied firmly. “Besides, Zack believes in you doesn’t he?”

Ducking his head slightly, embarrassed, Cloud nodded.

“Well, there you go!” He paused for a moment, listening, before he reached over and snagged his helmet, pulling it on. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” he noted.

Cloud snorted. “If he’s a god-send, wouldn’t he be an angel?”

“Fair point. Though he’s got to be the most accident-prone angel I’ve ever met.”

“That bad?”

“Well, there was this one time when we were cadets-”

“Hey guys, I’m back!” Zack bounced into the room with a grin. “You two played nice while I was gone, right?”

“Of course,” Kunsel retorted instantly, “I was just telling him about the Marlboro incident in the Slums when we were cadets.”

Zack’s eyes widened in horror. “No, no, no, no, no! Don’t do that!”

Cloud glanced between them curiously, playing along. “Now I have to know. What happened?”

“Nothing!”

Kunsel grinned wickedly. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell anyone else. It’s my favorite blackmail material on him.”

“Nooooo…”

Cloud read the message underneath, and smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” He knew what it was like to have an unspeakable secret, after all.

. . . . .

This is basically just a headcanon bit that applies to most of my FFVII stories. Not necessarily an active part, but background story. I don’t know why, it just is. But it’s my baby and I love it. (And Kunsel needs more love. Even if he has to undergo pain for it to be shown.)

Any thoughts on this? I’m curious about other people’s headcanons about him.

(Also this may or may not be an excerpt out of Bruises and Bitemarks. Just. You know. An interaction that’ll happen at some point in later chapters that haven’t been written yet. Cloud’s a vampire, and thus has an unspeakable secret as well, so he and Kunsel understand each other on a level that comes from keeping a long-term life-threatening secret.)

#ffvii #kunsel #headcanon #cloud #zack #this was a lot of fun to write #i absolutely love kunsel #and writing him is always a lot of fun #even if it is angst #i actually meant to put this up a while ago #but i kept getting sidetracked #anyway this is basically my main headcanon about why he never takes his helmet off #though i'm pretty sure that's actually a fanon thing?#but it's something i enjoy exploiting so #anyone want to exchange some kunsel headcanons with me?

39 notes · View notes

leonawriter · 6 years

Text

To Change A Sombre Morrow (chapter eight)

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Characters: Genesis, Red XIII, others.

Summary: Now featuring early cameos. Genesis can't quite believe what's going on. Admittedly, it's a lot to get used to.

"Are you actually a SOLDIER, mister?"

Genesis bit back the urge to snap, satisfying himself only with drumming his fingers against his other arm, and raising an eyebrow at the boy, half his height and with messy dark brown hair. A quick look confirmed that he wasn't the only one, either - there were several others following him through the town, some trying to hide and some not bothering.

The accent was familiar, because of course it was. Stronger than he remembered from Cloud and Tifa, but still recognisable as the Nibelheim way of talking.

"SOLDIER First Class," he said dryly, "Genesis." His voice had mostly recovered in the day that he had been forced to recover. He'd slept for some time before waking up with smoke inhalation and memories returned to him in nightmare form, and after that Vincent glaring at him for several hours if he'd so much as tried to head toward a door or window.

They had reached an impasse when they had both remembered that given what had happened in the Reactor, they were running on borrowed time, now. Even if Hojo didn't arrive to check it in person, someone would come.

He should be feeling more offended at having to inform the boy of his name at all, knowing that Cloud had clearly heard of Sephiroth even in a backwater place like this, but apparently these brats couldn't recognise him, and instead he waited for the inevitable recognition.

The boy's eyes widened in awed realisation, and several of the ones trailing behind made excited noises that mollified his annoyance some.

Which was, of course, when the questions started.

"Is that why your coat's all singed? Because it was you who killed the dragon?"

It was a good thing it had been dragon that had been the focus of the mission Shinra had put on the bulletin, or he would have been having trouble explaining his sorry state to more than just village children.

"Does that mean you know Sephiroth?"

Masamune flashing screaming his name grey skin and dying and dying-

-looking at him in shock-

and understanding, as he walked out of the training room.

"As well as any can say that they do," he said. Better than most, came the dark thought. I know what he's capable of at his worst. "And yes. I even have proof," he added with a smile, losing patience.

He was an actor. He had performed, for an audience, and what he was doing now was not nearly so different. He merely had to make it through and find his way back to Midgar.

"...I wanna be a SOLDIER."

He froze at the words that he had picked up, enhanced hearing and the wind carrying them to him, and slowly turned around. The children followed his line of sight toward where the speaker had been hiding, behind the water tower. Laughed, noisily, probably thinking that Genesis was seeing them, and not believing for one second that the smallest could get in.

They had likely heard this sort of thing from him before, after all.

Blue eyes on a pale face framed by spiked blond hair stared defiantly back at him. The only difference between the ones he was looking at and the ones he remembered was that these eyes weren't glowing, not even showing a slight bit in the light of day.

"If you think you can survive the monsters," he said eventually, "be my guest."

Let them think I was referring to dragons, he thought. If that's what they want to believe.

...

He's halfway back to Midgar when he stops long enough to change the bandages on his shoulder again, sees that the blood on the old ones is dried on, the skin underneath tender and pink and he stares.

Stares, because he was supposed to be degrading, he wasn't supposed to be able to heal-

And yet, there it was. Sore, aching, and a vulnerability, but healing.

He remembered Vincent saying that he'd used high-level healing items in the wake of his burning Jenova, but hadn't thought anything of it. Had forgotten, for a while, that his lungs should have remained burnt and his extremities singed no matter how many Cures were cast.

You can't expect to fall from even a low-hanging dumbapple tree and expect to get away with nothing, he remembered someone saying, tall and beautiful and who looked nothing like him at all. Look at you. Broken arms can take weeks to heal. Everyone will think you're no better than the children who climb up those trees to steal from them, you know that.

His shoulder was - had been, still was - both more and less serious than the broken arm he'd had at ten years old and smarting from the blow to his pride, but...

He takes the time to walk a while, resting his wing, breathing in the air of a part of the Planet that didn't stink of mako while he wasn't racing several thousand feet up in the cold so that no one looked twice at what could be a bird, if they didn't care enough to wonder what else it might be.

...

"You know," the lion-dog creature says - Nanaki, he'd been told, although some merely called him 'Red', and it had only taken a glance at the tattoo to realise that they had similar experiences, experiments all, "it always surprises me, seeing a former SOLDIER so interested in the Lifestream. Most don't even really care, even now. I think most ex-SOLDIERs prefer to ignore anything that serves as a reminder for what they are."

They were sat around the Cosmo Candle, the fire flickering and reminding him of Firaga spells and aerial bombings, more than home and stability. He had one knee up to his chin, his hair tied back in a fast and loose ponytail.

It's his first trip there, Hollander having never spent long if he had gone as far as to go in person, and Genesis having preferred to stay in Banora or search for more substantial leads at the time.

He'll come back a few more times, to check on Weiss, left in the care of those who know more about the Lifestream and healing than he does.

Nanaki is sat on his right. His wing is out and curled around him on his left, shielding him from some of the cold, and some of the stares.

"In case you hadn't noticed," he says, "I am not most former SOLDIERs."

"No, most former SOLDIERs can't hold their own against Cloud while running on sheer guts and sparks, from what I hear."

He grunts at that, wishing that the story hadn't apparently spread so far, so fast. It would have made things... easier. Nanaki says it in good humour, though, which helps.

"They used to say that about Sephiroth," he says before he can stop himself. "Angeal and I were the only ones who could keep up with him. At least Cloud has the decency to break a sweat," he adds with a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

It made him feel like at least there, he could actually wonder if he might win the next spar, rather than the building frustration of Sephiroth always being that far above him, and Genesis constantly being that far behind.

Sometimes, the only reason he lost was because Cloud would react in a way that Genesis didn't think he should be able to - a reflexive motion that on anyone else, would have been from watching and fighting Genesis for years, but Cloud and he had only sparred a handful of times. It was something that Sephiroth would do - and for that reason, Genesis never brought it up.

Nor the fact that the first time it had happened, he had lost the spar due to shock holding him in place, not due to lack of ability to respond.

"I forget that about you too."

He didn't want to say that sometimes he did, too, because that would feel like more of a betrayal than anything else he'd done. He had to remember. Because Angeal was gone, and Sephiroth...

In some ways, he felt that this was something else they shared. They were the last, after all. Left behind.

"The wind sails over the water's surface," he intoned, different from his usual recitations. This was no high drama. "Slowly, but surely..."

Life carried on. Like it would with or without them.

There would come a day when he was gone, too.

"What do you think it is, then?" There was curiosity in Nanaki's voice, in the way he turned his head. "The play talks about a 'Gift of the Goddess'."

Genesis spares a moment to appreciate that despite being a child of his species' standards, Nanaki could tell fine literature when he reads it.

His hand reaches up to his shoulder, which - even now, years on, aches when the weather is cold, or changes quickly. Thinks about Zack Fair, standing in front of him with Angeal's sword and Angeal's honour and Sephiroth's blood, and later, fulfilling Genesis' childish childhood dream.

He sighs, and watches, unable not to pick up a few words here and there, as Cloud explains the place they're in to Denzel, as well as why they're there and what they're doing.

Remembering, Genesis thinks. And reflecting. He usually isn't very good at either - or, sometimes, too good at just the wrong times, he's started to think more recently - and right now is one of those rare times when he's doing both but at the right time, and the right place for it, too.

"...Healing," he says at last.

Perhaps it was vague, in a sense. But there was more than one way to heal a man. Zack's pride in SOLDIER even after he had learned to distrust Shinra had given him an example to follow, one that he wished Angeal could have seen for himself, before he had chosen to die. The goddess forcing him to face himself as he was, had been much like how the doctors had often encouraged SOLDIERs to set a broken bone properly before it healed, or before using materia on it, or they would have to re-break it to enable it to heal correctly.

He'd needed to learn that, given he'd not only been learning combat materia. He really should have kept it in mind.

...

His PHS buzzed with a new message while he was angling down and away from the clouds again, though he only knew that much because the thing was in a coat pocket right next to him, the sound completely muffled by the wind.

Two days, and they'd already sent out a company-wide mail saying that one of their reactors had been damaged 'but still able to continue working'. AVALANCHE had apparently spoken up as soon as they'd heard about it, and taken responsibility.

It took Genesis a moment to remember that the AVALANCHE that was referred to here, was not the same one that was more family than organisation, more a team of heroes each in their own right than the mere eco-terrorists that this one was, if his memory was correct.

He's able to see Midgar in the distance when another mail comes through - an unknown number. No name.

The only details in the message are the words Perhaps with this, my sins will start to be atoned for. There aren't any attachments.

Genesis leaves it in the spam folder, but marks it to keep, instead of to be deleted. Thinks of the labs in the mansion destroyed, the books burning, and wishes it gave him more of a sense of satisfaction. Perhaps it would come later.

He should head straight back to HQ, he knows that, both because of the van and because he needs to report back, even though Nibelheim is half a world away from Midgar, and he'd gone without the aid of a helicopter, taking his time to make sure it didn't seem as though he'd travelled too quickly, but...

He abandons the van, no longer caring if it ended up gone by the time he got back, and slips through the crowds in the same way he learned to when he had been hunted down, drawing the shadows around him.

The church is empty, once he arrives, of anything other than flowers.

There's no Cloud, no Tifa, no children playing around by the water or tending to the flowers.

No Buster Sword over by the altar.

Which is good.

And yet, at the same time, it hurts, because for all the peace and tranquility this place has, it feels empty, hollow, lacking.

Genesis' hands clench into fists. It isn't just the church that feels hollow.

He had changed something. Unless there was something he had never been made aware of concerning just how much Jenova could survive, how little of her would be necessary in order for her to do what she seemed to do best and reach out and take, and change, and mould into her image, letting you almost forget what you'd ever been without her, as if you'd ever been anything without her...

If he had done what he had intended, then Jenova was gone. Gaia and Goddess alone knew what that meant for the SOLDIER program, given how the process relied on not only mako but also her cells.

Vincent was awake. Awake, and mobile. In all likelihood, already on his way to systematically destroy the next lab. And if the ex-Turk ran into Hojo while he was at it, if the professor decided to investigate matters a little more personally... well, he wasn't Genesis' personal demon to deal with.

No, he had been Vincent's. Cloud and Zack's, too. And a long list of others. The man's interference with Genesis' own life had been comparably impersonal.

As if using my genes, my cells, to create the Tsviets was 'nothing personal, you merely have something that I want. He flinched at his own wording, remembering all too well how his own request of Sephiroth hadn't been too far different. Nothing personal. I just want to live.

He grimaced, halfway between laughing bitterly, and simple disgust.

Perhaps he was right to leave me like that.

Genesis sighed, and forced himself to relax his tensed muscles, to ease the growing pain in his shoulder. His healing shoulder. Slowly, but steadily. He'd seen the mako begin to take hold once again, now that he knew what to look for. The irritating itching that had been around for days before Jenova's destruction had been a warning sign. One that he hadn't paid attention to.

And now here I am. I thought that I could save the world early, and come striding back in as if nothing had changed.

Something had, though. He had. Although whether that was caused by what he had destroyed, or what he had remembered, was another matter entirely-

In the echoing silence of the church, the sounds of the rest of Midgar and the surrounding slums had faded away, but now there had been a gasp, the acoustics and his enhanced hearing carrying it close.

His hand was on Rapier out of reflex as he stood from the pew and turned, and only relaxed when he realised that it was merely a girl.

Pale dress, long, braided hair. Slight thing. Probably not a threat, then.

"You don't have to leave if you don't want to," she said, a hand on her heart still, but smiling. Honestly, too. "I just didn't expect to see anyone here this early. You startled me."

Genesis narrowed his eyes at the now clear light of morning beginning to stream through the windows and - more brightly and naturally - through the hole in the roof that was already there.

If he took too much longer, there would be questions, whether he was ready to face them or not.

"I was just leaving," he said as he passed her on the way out, a storm settling into his expression like the ones that he'd worked so hard to avoid ever since gaining his short yet limited freedom from Shinra, focusing only on putting one step after another, back toward the den of monsters itself.

#final fantasy vii #ff7 stuff #Leona fic #to change a sombre morrow verse

6 notes · View notes

dustofwarfare · 7 years

Text

sephiroth appreciation week: #3 Fight

For the prompt “Fight” for day 3 of #sephirothweek!

This is basically introspective but it’s Sephiroth/Genesis, implied Sephiroth/Genesis/Angeal, warning for flowery language and metaphors??? Other than that, teen maybe for language and references to canon violence.

(about 900 words: at AO3 if you prefer)

fight me (vigorous and angry)

Fighting with Genesis is not something Sephiroth enjoys.

Not sparring, that he likes that fine -- more than fine, considering how it usually ends. But fighting with Genesis, with words, about things Sephiroth does not understand why they’re suddenly a big deal when they haven’t been before….

“He’s only doing it to get a rise out of you,” Angeal says, shaking his head, after one such incidence. “He likes that.”

“There are easier ways to get me in bed, if that’s what he wants,” Sephiroth responds, frowning. “I don’t particularly want to speak with him at the moment, much less do anything else.”

Angeal sighs. “He doesn’t -- it’s not just about sex, Seph. It’s about getting you riled up. Angry.”

“Why would he want that?” Sephiroth’s eyes narrow. “I was under the impression Genesis had some…regard for me, out of bed, that would keep him from wanting me to be in foul temper.”

Angeal smiles, sighs and shakes his head all at once. “He does. And -- you know what? I think you should ask him why he does it, if you want to know.”

It takes a few days, in which Sephiroth ignores him and Genesis tries to poke at him like he’s a sore muscle. Finally they meet in the training room -- just the two of them, Angeal isn’t as fond of this particular kind of foreplay -- and it takes a good long duel and a fuck against the wall before they speak without snarling.

“Angeal says you like to make me emotional,” Sephiroth says, lying flat on the floor in his undershirt and pants, sweat cooling on his skin thanks to the ventilation fans in the ceiling.

“Emotional,” Genesis snorts, turning to look at him. He’s relaxed, bare-chested, his skin marked up with bites and scratches and his pants pulled up but not buttoned. His smile lacks the edge it sometimes has, when it’s directed at Sephiroth. “Yes Seph. I like to make you emotional. I like to make you angry. Everyone else is too afraid of you to do it.”

“Why do you want to make me angry?” Sephiroth pushes his hair away from his damp face. “He says it’s not about sex, but….”

“Because you’re too...too much a thing and not a person, when you don’t have someone there to annoy you,” Genesis says. “And no, I don’t do it because I want to fuck. When I want to fuck, you’ll know.”

Sephiroth isn’t sure about that. Genesis is not an easy man for Sephiroth to understand; he is fire to Sephiroth’s ice, to Angeal’s earth.

“I don’t think you’ve ever been allowed to have an emotion in your life,” Genesis says. “I think every time you dared have a feeling, Hojo manipulated you into pretending you didn’t. Weapons don’t feel, do they? They just fire.”

“Hmm.” Sephiroth pushes up on his elbows and looks over at him. “So you’re taking it upon yourself to, what? Fix this lapse in my education?”

“Not your education, your emotional well-being. Your humanity.”

“You don’t do this to Angeal,” Sephiroth mutteres.

“Because he doesn’t need it. He’s laid-back by nature. You’re not. You’re a writhing cauldron of emotion and you insist if you slam a lid on it, it’s not there. But it is.” Genesis moves with his usual lethal grace and straddles Sephiroth, his skin warm and his hands insistent. “You’ll thank me one day, Seph.”

“Hmm.” Sephiroth tangles his hand in Genesis’ messy hair and pulls him down for a kiss.

***

Sephiroth stands in front of the tank in Nibelheim, Zack’s voice a drone in his ears --

Stop this, Sephiroth, listen to me, you’re not a monster --

The hate is so hot it feels like it’s burning him up into ash.

((Come to me, my son. Let me take this from you.))

Her voice is cool like water, like ice, blanking the flames of his incendiary rage.

You’ll thank me one day, Seph.

Maybe it would have been enough if they’d had more time, if they’d had a thousand more annoyances and irritations layered on top of each other.

But they didn’t, and it’s not.

***

He faces Cloud in the Northern Crater and feels death coming, reaching up and offering, in its own way, the same thing Jenova did when she whispered to him in the metal tomb of a dying reactor.

An end, a ceasing. Darkness to put out the light.

Death comes for him at the end of a sword, in lightning-bright slashes that rip him to pieces.

It is dark in the Lifestream, but it still burns.

***

He covers the sky with the storm of his rage above ShinRa’s tower of ruin, and Cloud bests him again with his shining sword and his mako-bright eyes.

The darkness takes him but he knows he won’t sleep.

***

Aren’t you tired of this? She asks, her voice sweet.

Sephiroth -- or whatever he is, now, this consciousness torn in a thousand different ways by a thousand different masters -- remembers the training room floor and the sweat cooling on his skin, remembers a voice saying you’ll thank me one day, remembers falling, and breaking, and the way it feels to be ripped apart down to the soul.

Yes, he says. But all I know how to do is fight.

You fight because you don’t want to feel, she says.

(Weapons don’t feel, do they? They just fire.)

#sephirothweek #day 3: fight #Oct. 25 || Day 3. Fight #sephiroth #genesis #fic #introspective #halsey lyrics like whoa #aerith #maybe this happens before begin the end?#sephiroth/genesis #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #sephiroth/genesis/angeal #emotions are hard #sephiroth appreciation week

23 notes · View notes

s-ephiroth · 7 years

Text

Sephiroth Week || Day 1: Labs

(An unexpected conversation, heard in the eerie quietude of the labs.)

Even when he arrives at his apartment, he can still feel all the things that make the Shinra Science Department what it is. The smells of chemicals — of mako, too — that cling to him like a ghost seeking to haunt, the sheer cleanness of the place, the distant sounds of whatever specimens would be brought there to be worked on, the blinding lights that never fail in giving him headaches.

And Hojo. Always Hojo.

Hojo who, upon getting yelled at, made sure that he regretted his words by the use of scientific procedures, (always Science) that wouldn’t harm him in the long term in regards to his physical condition but that were unnecessary, regardless, even if those were allowed to be performed as they wouldn’t bring the company to ruin and Sephiroth wasn’t a head of any department to have much say on it.

Sephiroth steps into his own shower — that unlike the ones in the Science Department, don’t restrict the time he takes to clean off or throw mako (and whatever else the SOLDIER serum is made of) over him — still feeling somewhat disgusted with himself due to the experience, as something about having a certain scientist (“scientist”) handle such procedures with free allowance to abuse them if necessary (unnecessary) makes him feel dirty. He lets the warm water wash away the stress, uncaring of how expensive his long showers tend to be for the company.

They’d rather pay to have me before letting me go.

Deliberately taking his time to have his hair as clean as it was before he entered the labs, he ends up spending even more time than he usually does in the shower. And it’s only after then, as he’s blow drying his hair that he realizes something that has an utter dread set low in his stomach.

He’s forgotten his phone in that damned place.

Worse, he needs to have the phone with him in the morning and thus, doesn't have the privilege of waiting until the following day to fetch it. Especially worse than that, at the time he notices this, the Science Department's officially closed for the day, meaning only a certain someone would be there; lingering for one or another last-minute experiment of the day.

Not really wanting the extra interaction, he decides to sneak in. He was trained for the necessity of being stealthy because of the war, after all, a laboratory should be an easier task.

Except nothing even prepares him for the conversation he gets to hear, which forces him to hide behind some of the complex equipment of the labs as quickly and discreetly as he can.

“No, boy, I told you to send her back to Nibelheim,” Hojo says to someone on the other side of a call, quite angered, “Or do I have to take her there myself?” There's a pause as whoever it is on the end of the line probably tries to explain themselves.

(A foolish move.)

“Just make sure Jenova gets there safe and sound.”

Jenova… his mother?

Sephiroth watches from the place he’s hiding as the annoyed scientist ends the call, a little too intrigued; somewhat concerned with what he just heard. Hojo turns to look right at his hiding spot in such an eerie manner that he could swear the old man’s able to sense his presence if he didn't know any better.

“Hmm… very intriguing,” the scientist mutters to himself but turns again to go on his merry way, failing to detect Sephiroth entirely. Or so the SOLDIER hopes.

Regardless of which of those is the case, Sephiroth wastes no time in getting out of the labs as quick as he can. Outside, he meets a lonesome infantryman guarding the area — who was definitely not there before — and quickly motions for the man to stay quiet.

“If word comes out I’ve been here tonight, I’ll know it’s you and I’ll see to it you’re properly dismissed from your duties. Understood, cadet?”

The infantryman, a little too short compared to most of his peers, simply nods somewhat hesitantly. Nobody expects General Sephiroth to appear during one’s night shift and ask (threaten) for secrecy, anyway.

“Good,” Sephiroth offers to that agreement, “May your shift go well.”

That isn’t something he gets to say very often — especially to infantrymen in general — but in the heat of the moment he doesn't quite catch himself before it slips out, nor makes any attempt of taking back the words. He has a place to go, after all, and until he gets on an elevator the risk of being seen by someone else in Hojo’s vicinity is far greater than what he prefers. There's no way he's going to ruin the efforts he put in not being seen, (except by that single, scared infantryman) not even by cameras, by being seen by even more people. Gossip travels fast inside Shinra.

When he finally gets back home again and lies down to try to sleep, Sephiroth finds out that the strange conversation he witnessed won’t leave his head.

It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, having trouble to sleep after returning from the labs, but yet this time it’s different. His mother is likely alive and being taken somewhere else. His mother who was kept from him for so longer.

He wonders. If all this time she’s been around and alive instead of what he’s been told all his life, then why would Hojo and the company want to keep them apart? Sephiroth finds out the thought offers a dozen other questions that just keep him from relaxing and simply falling asleep.

Silently cursing his luck, he turns onto his side and covers his head with the pillow, a little too annoyed.

Maybe… if she’s in the company — or has been in the company recently — there should be data about her somewhere. He promises himself he’ll search for said data when the next day comes, if anything, to give himself some peace of mind.

#sephirothweek #sephiroth #ff7 #hojo #sephirothweek2017 #(the last tag is just for ordering on my own blog don't be confused by it!)#arkeefic

20 notes · View notes

duckydoesthings · 7 years

Text

Monster Chapter 2

CHARACTERS:

Tseng of the Turks: Little is known about Tseng, with the exception of being the leader of President Rufus ShinRa's personal protection service. He dresses in a black suit, and always puts his shoulder length hair in a ponytail. It is also known that he has a tattoo on the back of his neck of a white lily with the stem being loosely wrapped with a pink ribbon.

Prompto Argentum: Literal ball of sunshine. Happy go lucky personality with a optimistic outlook. Has ADHD, and some anxiety issues. Best friends with Noctis Caelum. Passionate about photography and chocobos.

Xion Caelum: Sister to Noctis Caelum. More reserved and quiet personality, but has her moments of pure bliss.

Zack Fair: Personal Trainer. Loves to go for runs and squats for days. Spunky with endless energy. Terra's older twin.

Cloud Strife: Weapons Expert. While quiet and shy, can be pretty cocky but willing to help his students.

Aerith Gainsborough: Medical/Materia Teacher. While she teaches medicinal courses, she also tends to her own garden. Humble and caring.

Terra Fair: Combat Specialist. While he looks intimidating and overly serious, he cares for his students and will push them to be the best fighter they can be. Zack's younger twin.

Squall Leonhart: Stealth and Technology Technician. Has a scar across his face from his ex-best friend. Sarcastic as hell yet strong willed.

Tifa Lockhart: Secretary and Dean for ShinRa Corps. She is in charge of all the students and reports their progress to President ShinRa.

TRIGGER WARNING: Slight description of wound. Blood mention.

Riku rolled onto his back, taking the pressure off of his now pounding forehead. The combination of his mind thinking about the previous day's events and the sharp throbs of his wound had kept him from sleeping very much. Despite the lack of sleep, his body was wired.

Early morning light colored the room in warmth as the sun started to rise. It was the morning that he was being shipped off to Shiva knows where, some private college that his dad thought was much more suitable than just allowing him to go to Midgar University. He laid in the sun's ray as he tried to think about reasons why his father could possibly want to send him away.

Midgar University, while not being a cheap school, had already been paid for through the scholarships Riku had entered and won. He already laid out the groundwork to being self sufficient and acted with adult maturity to pursuing this path. The path of being a paramedic. All his work was thrown out the window by his father, who insisted on the private college.

First, he didn't even tell him what college it was. For all Riku knew, it was a clown college- the option seemed incredibly viable with how his father seemed to treat him. Another possibility that stuck out to him was a military academy. There were times where Sephiroth would comment about his mother putting him into a military boarding school where he spent his teen life.

Second, would he even be able to still pursue his dream? The only reason why he even wanted to be a paramedic, was because of his mother. Before she died, she had insisted on his talent in music and art. It all changed when the medics couldn't save her life while she died from asphyxia while riding towards the hospital. He wanted to save lives and prevent families from loss like he had.

All this thinking made his already throbbing headache worse. Riku inched off the bed, trying hard to not flinch. His hands weren't scraped up too bad, but his fall from the tree had caused angry marks which were sensitive to touch. Quietly, he left his room, zigzagging around on the mahogany flooring to prevent the wood from creaking and possibly waking up his father and brothers.

Even with socked feet, the bathroom tiles were still cold enough to make him shiver. He closed the door and locked it behind him out of habit before starting to remove his clothing. He had gotten as far as removing his hoodie before catching sight of his 'lived in the wild like an animal' aesthetic in the mirror. Riku stopped and moved closer to his reflection, leaning over the sink to get a closer look.

Slowly he started to remove the bandage, revealing the gash in his eyebrow. The wound had started to look dry and irritated. Adding to the scratches on his hands and the blood spattered dry lips he had, the overall look he had was Grade C horror movie makeup. He would have to spray some neoproxin after the shower.

Before Riku completely stripped, he took a second to get the shower water running. A quirk of having an old water heater: iffy water temperatures. Most of the time when Riku had to shower, he either had to get up before everyone else or risk cold water. That was the major downside with living in a house of only boys. No hot water ever. Although the only one to really complain about the cold shower water was Riku anyways. The hot water was the only warmth Riku ever really experienced, especially after his mother died. Somewhere he read that the reason for people taking extremely long hot showers was the water acted like a hug for lonely people. Or something along those lines.

Just like the article, as the hot water warmed his skin, he felt like he was being given a hug. An awkward naked and covered in water hug, yet a hug regardless. As he started to lather his hair in shampoo, Riku let his mind be consumed by the shower sounds, letting it drown out any thoughts that would make his headache worse.

Wrapping a towel around most of his lanky figure, he stepped out of the shower and sat on the toilet, letting the towel soak up the water off his body. From where the towel fell away from his body, he saw dark purple to black bruising. They covered most of his thighs and in the florescent lighting of the bathroom, it only made the bruises darker than they already were.

Suddenly a few light taps of the bathroom door broke Riku out of his daze, sending his heart into panic mode.

"What?"

"I need to take a leak. Hurry the fuck up man." Yazoo. No matter how much their mother would complain about his language, he never let the fact that he had no filter bother him.

"Gimme a sec, Yaz. I'm naked." He stood up and went to the small linen closet in the corner next to the stackable washer and dryer unit, and grabbed a bathrobe.

"Yeah so? That's never stopped me before. We've seen each other naked before." His voice became unmuffled as Riku opened the door, holding the robe as tight as possible over his small frame. Both brothers matched each other in height and weight, yet Yazoo filled out his body better. Riku felt like his soul was so much more tinier than his body was fit to fill. "Ouch. What happened? Ran right into the bookcase again, lil bro?"

Riku slipped to the side, allowing his brother to pass, ignoring the comment. "Just hurry up. I still need to use the bathroom."

"Yeah whatever." He was then pushed out of the room, door closing and locking in front of him. Quickly, he rushed into his room, ignoring the floor as it creaked under his feet. If he wanted any chance to fix his face before another one of his brothers took over the bathroom again, he would need to grab his clothes and run back.

Yazoo just barely left the bathroom, as Riku appeared again, a bundle of clothes in his arms. "Seriously though, story about the cut?" He asked, blocking the doorway.

"Oh come on, Yaz. I don't have the time for this." He pouted, attempting again to strong arm his way in, but a hand pushing him back stopped him.

"What's the rush? We all know about you sneaking out last night. You're not really subtle while falling out of a tree." Yazoo smirked, watching his brother look away from him in shame. "Oh come on, don't give me the wounded animal look. Dad expected you to run away to your girlfriend."

Riku looked back at Yazoo and watched him move away from the door and walk back towards his room. 'What the hell?' He thought as he returned to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His family was acting extremely strange and if he continued to think about it, it would only make his head hurt more.

After he had gotten dressed and applied antiseptic cream and a bandage to his eyebrow, he threw the robe into the hamper and left the bathroom.

Normally, Riku reveled in the calmness of the house in early morning slumber, but this morning was different. It was as if all the life had been sucked out of the calming air, giving him a sense of emptiness. Even as he made his way down the stairs, passing all the family photos that decorated the wall, he felt like a stranger.

Riku stopped in front of a photo, midway down the stairs and turned towards it. The photo showed a young boy with light silvery hair, smiling with a two toothed gap in his front teeth, holding out the teeth to the camera as a blue haired fairy crouched next to him. His heart nearly broke, seeing how happy he was back then. Even as a kid he had been oblivious to the pain he would later face.

Curling his fingers into his palm, nails digging into his cuts, the boy turned away from the photo. He continued down the stairs, waiting till he had entered the kitchen to unclench his hands, letting out a long breath as he did.

The room had a calm air to it, as he let go of his anger and made his way around the island and to the coffee pot. Everyone in his household with exceptions for Loz drank coffee. It was just easier to have coffee going while he was getting breakfast started.

Riku was easily preoccupied with the menial task of making the surplus of french toast, bacon and eggs, allowing his mind to focus on cooking. He had all four burners on the flat top cooking at once, keeping a steady flow of stirring and flipping while the rest of the house woke up.

"Smells good, Riku." Loz commented, opening the fridge door, being careful not to hit his brother. The youngest waited till the door was closed before turning to look at his brother.

"Thanks." He turned back, focusing on the food. Loz cleared his throat as he opened the bottle of water, leaning up against the fridge. Riku looked at his brother, seeing a look that only meant that he wanted to talk. "What?"

"I heard about the uh.. what happened..." Loz looked away and moved to sit at the island. Riku turned back to the food, choosing not to respond at the moment. Instead he flipped the food, letting the sizzling drown out his thoughts. He wasn't mad at Loz. His brother did nothing wrong and he knew that it wasn't fair that he was giving him the cold shoulder. After flipping the food once more, he turned his head towards his brother, looking over his shoulder.

"Can you get the table set?" That brought a smile back onto Loz's face as he got up and started to help set up for breakfast.

As the plates, silverware and glasses were set onto the table, Riku and Loz teamed up to lay out all the food, just as the other two brothers made their way into the kitchen.

"Poison for breakfast, Reek?" Kadaj snorted, pleased at himself for the Game Of Thrones reference as he plopped down into a chair and grabbed a slice of bacon. Riku ignored the comment, sitting in his own chair and taking a sip of the coffee he had made for himself.

"You just ate poison then, Ramsey." Sitting next to his brother, Yazoo nudged at him. Kadaj grabbed at his throat making choking noises before slumping in his chair and pointing at Riku.

"You guys really suck with keeping things accurate." Riku smirked, enjoying his brothers. Times like this made him feel like a part of a family. When even though his brothers could be royal pains in his ass, they still were his brothers. Just the thought of no longer being able to enjoy his brothers' silliness sent a stab of pain into his heart. It almost made him lose his appetite.

"At least I kept it in the same series." Kadaj retorted, about to continue with his sentence before Riku groaned flicking a piece of egg at him.

"Shut up! That was one time! Let it go!" Kadaj shook his head, swiping off the egg on his shoulder. He grabbed a piece of his own egg and threw it at his brother, hearing the footsteps of his father as he walked into the room. He knew that Riku would retaliate and get in trouble by his father. Only today Riku deflected the egg and turned to watch it fall on his father's socked foot.

The room went quiet, as the boys watched their father look down at his sock, then at all his sons. This wasnt the first time that he had walked into the start of a food fight, but this morning felt different. Sephiroth simply bent down, picked up the egg and went to the sink, dropping it down the garbage disposal.

"I could have eaten that." Loz complained, tapping the empty spot on his plate where his eggs had been. With how much energy he went through on a daily basis, Loz could have eaten it and still would have been content.

"Ew. You could have gotten athlete's foot, on your tongue." Yazoo cringed, before returning to spacing out. As much as Riku wanted to correct his oldest brother, it was for the best that he left the subject alone. He wouldn't have given two shits anyways.

"It would be just like Loz to get a foot fungal infection in his mouth." Their father stated in a monotone voice, a hint of a smile lurking on his lips. Everyone in the room started laughing, even Loz. Everything in that moment seemed perfect. One big happy family of boys, laughing at the stupid comments of one of the brothers. Moments like this made Riku believe that there was such a thing as a happy family for him.

That moment died when a knock cut through their laughter. Riku pushed back his chair and headed towards the door as his family returned to their food, a new conversation picking up as soon as his feet moved him past the archway of the kitchen. His heart rate started picking up as his fingers touched the golden colored handle, twisting the door open.

Sunlight blinded him the moment he pulled the door away from the frame, only lasting a brief second before the door revealed a lanky man in a crisp black suit.

"May I help you?"

The man extended his right hand towards the boy, giving a curt nod instead of a smile. "My name is Tseng. You must be Riku."

He nodded at the man, as their hands touched. Something about this Tseng guy gave him a chill that trickled down his back. The whole meet and greet seemed quite odd to him.

"Early as always. Care for some breakfast?" Sephiroth asked, coming up right behind his son. Riku pulled away, stepping to the side. There was no way he wanted to get back on his father's bad side, even though he was being sent away today. He wasn't even ready for it.

Tseng's dark eyes flickered from his coworker to the son, before he gently shook his head, but stepped into the large house anyways. "Thank you, but no."

Aquamarine eyes watched as the stranger closed the door behind him, as if he had been here before. Something about his presence made Riku's heart race.

"Riku." The sharp tone of his father's voice, broke him out of his current dazed state, causing him to look at him with a slightly scared look. "Where are your bags?"

"What bags?" It took him a few seconds to realize what exactly was going on, his brain clicking into place. He couldn't even believe how brain-missing he had been. "Oh, right uhm... I haven't even packed yet."

Sephiroth's lip twitched in displeasement, before he turned away and started back for the kitchen. "Don't make Tseng wait any longer than he already is." With that, he left him and Tseng alone in the foyer, rejoining his other sons.

Another long moment of awkward silence passed before he bowed slightly towards the man who would whisk him away from his family. The least he could do is be polite and not make him wait any longer than he was going to.

"I'll try to pack fast." All Tseng did was nod at him before following his father into the kitchen, leaving him alone.

Several dark thoughts climbed their way out of the walled off corner in his mind as he made his way up the steps, leaving his breakfast to sit cold on the table. Surely his brothers wouldn't put it to waste, or his dad would eat it. Maybe this is good that he was being shipped away. No one seemed to really care about him anyways, always leaving him to stand off to the side watching everyone pass by him.

Whatever schooling his dad was sending him to was probably a blessing in disguise. It would give him a chance to start over, start fresh. Maybe make some friends who he could actually spend time with. It wasn't as if he didn't have friends, but with everyone heading off to different colleges, he got lost in the fray of trying to adult.

Those dark circling thoughts kept swarming his brain as he had gotten into his room and started packing. What if people at his new school didn't like him? He was already a socially stunted, maybe there was just no hope for him to make a new friend anyways.

From his bedside table, a chocobo 'kweh' broke him out of his thoughts. He stood up and made his way around the newly made mess of clothes strewn across the floor, to grab his phone.

[Kairi: hi]

Smiling, Riku quickly typed out a reply before heading back to the spot he had been to continue packing.

[Riku: Good morning, sleepy head. How did you sleep?]

As per normal, Kairi sent back a quick reply. Conversations always went fast with Kairi 'test so fast' Evelon. For a few minutes, he ignored his phone, until another message insisted on his reply.

[Kairi: it was ok. just hella worried about u.]

[Kairi: did u sleep okay? wut did ur dad say?]

His heart skipped a beat, remembering what had happened last night. The thought did send a bolt of pain to his wound though. He'd need to apply some numbing cream to it later on.

[Riku: Dad didn't say anything to me... Well not really anything about last night. He was a little pissy when I had told him I hadn't started packing...]

There wasn't a text from Kairi for several minutes, giving him the chance to continue packing without being interrupted. He knew she was probably showering or grabbing coffee. By the time she had responded back, he was finished folding all his clothes and had grabbed his duffle bag from the closet.

[Kairi: wut a dick!!! u had no time 2 pack!!!]

[Kairi: the least he couldve done is given u time 2 pack...]

The thought of his father giving him a notice even a week before hand wouldn't have made this any easier.

[Riku: It's okay, Kai. I'm almost finished packing anyways. It's not like I was given a list of things I needed for school, so I just grabbed what I thought I needed.]

Setting his phone aside, he let the text come in while he stacked the clothes in the bag. There was still several things on his mental list to grab, but he was had just wanted to get his clothes packed first.

[Kairi: thats dumb. i wish u were still going 2 mu w me]

Riku's heart pounded thinking about her. There she was, sitting all alone in a hotel room only a few miles away. He was so close to her, why did it seem like she was so far? Quickly he fired off a quick message before getting up and heading to the bathroom.

[Riku: Me too, Kai.]

Once in the bathroom, he quickly grabbed all his bathroom things, shoving them into a bag that he had in his drawer for when he spent the night at Sora's house. Before leaving, he took one last look in the mirror. The bandage and scratches made him look like he had lost a fight with Sher Khan, the tiger from The Jungle Book. Even though he checked it about two hours ago, he still wanted to make sure that it was healing.

Removing the bandage, Riku took a better look at the wound. It didn't look as bad as he thought. It looked like a fresh wound, open and still wet from the anti-septic gel he had applied earlier. With the gauze off, the wound was easily hidden from view with his long bangs. It also made the scratches slightly less noticeable.

Making a decision to keep it off -He had heard from his dad that small wounds heal better when not covered- he grabbed his bag and headed back for his room, where he was greeted by his brother Loz, standing over the duffle bag of clothes. Riku noticed he held one of his hands was closed, hanging loosely at his side.

"What's up, Loz?" He asked, walking towards the bag and dropping his toiletries on top of the pile of clothes. His brother extended his closed hand, waiting patiently for his youngest brother to look at him. Riku looked from the hand to his brother, before hesitantly offering an open hand.

The item was transferred from twin to twin, in a moment of silence, before Loz looked away, awkwardly rubbing his neck. It seemed like his brother wanted to speak but couldn't quite get the words out, giving Riku just enough time to look down at his hand. The item took every word, thought and breath from him.

A silver chained necklace lay in his hand, bits of the chain spilling out of his palm, with the charm sitting in the center, facing him. It had been years since he had last seen this necklace. The last time he remembered seeing it was on his mother's neck while she was lying in the hospital bed, her skin turning whiter than the sheets.

"Where..." Riku's voice came out in a shaky whimper. The charm was a silver outlined wayfinder with each of her family's favorite colours. At the bottom left was Sephiroth's with a steel blue- the same color as his wife's hair, with Yazoo taking the top slot with a grassy green. Kadaj had the bottom right with a dark red, while Loz occupied the left middle piece with a faded lilac. Leaving Riku with the right middle piece.

He remembered when his mother originally had commissioned the piece, she asked her entire family while at dinner one night, while they were all still kids. His brothers and father answered quickly, returning to their meals within the minute. It took Riku a solid week to decide what his color would be, but ultimately he went with the color that stood out to him the most. Aquamarine. The color of his eyes and the oceans of Destiny Islands, where his happiest memories were from.

"Mom wanted you to have it. She gave it to Dad to give to you before she died, but he gave it to Yaz and Kadaj, but I stole it from them. Now you have it." Loz looked out the window, avoiding looking at his brother. His voice was choked, as if holding back tears. Out of the entire family, both him and Loz were the soft hearted kids, constantly being teased for it. Once Loz hit puberty and got into sports, where he became the tank of the family, while Riku grew to be a tall string bean, the burden fell completely on him.

The youngest quintuplet reached out to his brother, resting his free hand lightly on Loz's arm. None of the Jenova kids were good with expressing their feelings, always resorting to painful punches to the shoulder or rough noogies, but in that moment, Loz turned back to Riku with tears in his eyes. Both boys embraced each other, in a hug full of sniffles, muscles and silver hair.

"I don't want you to go." Loz confessed, pulling away and returning back to the stoic facade he normally held, even if his words had suggested otherwise. Riku looked down at his mother’s- no, now it was his- necklace, before pulling apart the magnetic connectors and putting it on. Unlike where the charm rested on his mother at the top of her sternum, the necklace rested right between the ridge of his clavicle. Easily hideable under his clothes, where he slipped it under his shirt.

"I don't want to go either, but I don't get a choice." Riku swallowed thickly, trying his best to hold back tears. This wasn't the time or place. Sure, both of them had cried in front of each other, but he had to be strong for his brother. Be strong for himself.

Loz nodded, the threat of tears looming behind bright aquamarine eyes. He moved away from his brother and to the door, pausing to look back at him with his hand on the handle. "Be safe, Rikki."

Riku watched as his brother left, the image almost breaking his heart. Was this some foreboding sign that he would never see his brother again? There was no logical reason why he shouldn't, they still had their whole adult lives to be close. Out of all his brothers, Riku had the best relationship with Loz and had no qualms with being close later in life, yet the possible thought of not being able to see his brother for Titan knows long…

Another Chocobo 'Kweh' brought him out of his thoughts. He sat back down, grabbing his phone from the top of a shirt pile.

[Kairi: when r u supposed 2 leave 4 ur new skool? maybe we can call b4]

The thought of seeing her one last time before he was shipped away to this mysterious private college made a small smile crawl across his lips. He could probably call while packing, but knowing how much Kairi could talk made him realize that it would be a bad idea.

[Riku: Sorry, Kai. My ride is already here, and I don't want to make him wait any longer than he already is... Sorry.]

Setting his phone aside, he had started put the small piles in the bag and ignored the text that came in. As he had put the pants pile in, he realized his hands were starting to shake.

'No, please not now.' Riku thought, feeling the spike of anxiety, shakiness and overall feeling of being off. He really didn't want to have a panic attack now, of all times. There was only one way to stave off this possible attack, a trick he learned from his mom to handle his anxiety.

Sitting cross legged, he closed his eyes, resting his hands on his knees. Deep breathes now. In for three and hold for four. As he started the breathing exercise, he could hear his mom coaching him. She always had a calming aura around her, and having her necklace only made him feel even more connected to her. You're doing well, Riku. Now, out for seven . He had continued the exercise until he had felt his anxiety wane. He opened his eyes and checked to see his hands. No shakes.

With the possible attack deflected, Riku continued packing until he had finished. The duffle back was still a little less than halfway empty. What more was he supposed to pack? He didn't know what school he was going to, let alone knowing what he had to take with him. There wasn't anything else he wanted to take with him anyways.

Oh well.

Grabbing his phone, he checked the last notification from Kairi.

[Kairi: i understand. will u still txt me while @ ur new skool?]

[Riku: Of course. You know that I will always text you when I can.]

Standing up, he put his phone in his front pockets before turning towards his bed. From there he grabbed his charger for his phone, tossing it over to his backpack where it landed on the floor a few feet away. At least it was close. He sighed, taking the next few minutes to gather and roll up the cords for his laptop, tablet and mp3 player, before grabbing the rest of his electronics and bringing them to his backpack. He had just bought the backpack, prepared to use it for all his tech, books and notebooks for classes. At least it still was getting use.

After he packed all his things, Riku slung his backpack across his back and grabbed his duffle bag with one hand. He approached the door and took one more look around, feeling lost and empty. The room he spent most of his life sleeping in, he was leaving for a undetermined amount of time. He looked at the walls, covered in various posters, art prints and decorations. Every video game, band, anime and mementos he had gathered over his life seemed to have lost the same effect it had when he would look over them. Thinking that he wouldn't be able to see this room for some time made a pang hit his chest. He couldn't look at it anymore without wanting to break down.

Riku closed the door behind him as he headed down the hall, feeling chills as he walked through the house. He could still his brothers laughing loudly in the kitchen, arguing over who is going to do the dishes. A scene he desperately wished he could be apart of.

Going down the stairs, he avoided looking at the pictures. It would make leaving harder than it already was. Quietly he got to the bottom of the stairs and looked at Tseng where he stood next to the door, along with his father. They were both looking back at him. Tseng with his dark bored eyes, and his father with his bright unreadable eyes.

"I'm sorry it took me so long. I had trouble thinking of what I would need to bring." Riku stated as he hitched his backpack back up his shoulder. He made sure not to look at his dad, hoping that he could retaliate at him by acting like he didn't even see him.

"Are you ready to go now?" Tseng asked, nodding at him. He nodded back and went for the door, which Tseng opened up for him, and had started to walk through before he heard his name being called.

"What?" Turning, Riku looked at his father with his good eyebrow raised, waiting for him to respond. Kadaj and Yazoo poked their heads out of the kitchen, hoping to eavesdrop on the situation. Their father took a big step closer to the youngest son.

Putting a hand on his son's shoulder, Sephiroth gave him a knowing smile as he leaned down, his lips close to Riku's ear. "I know about the necklace."

Sephiroth pulled back and gave a light push on his son’s shoulder, before turning and joining his other sons back in the kitchen. Part of him wanted to chase after his dad and throw his bag at him, beating him over and over. That psychopath knew how to dig right into the core of his enemies, and his favourite target was his son.

"Let's go." Riku nodded back at Tseng and left his house. He continued to walk towards the car that was parked on the street. He couldn't bear turning back and looking at the house. The building he made the most memories under. Memories of mass birthday parties with his brothers, sleepovers with Sora, spending time painting his mother while she modeled. Memories that would make him crumble into a ball of crying fits and rage.

Tseng clicked a button on the car fob, opening the trunk for Riku to put his things. He was stunned at how sleek and cat-like the car was. It was the car form of a black panther, in his opinion. Part of him felt awkward dropping his stuff in the back of such a beautiful car.

"What kind of car is this?" Riku asked as he and Tseng got into the front seats, buckling up.

"I didn't think you were interested in cars, Riku." The man turned to him with an inquisitive look. He shrugged, resting against the fine black with red stitched leather seats.

"I'm not, but this car is kinda cool."

Tseng nodded and turned back to the wheel, turning the car on. The car quietly purred to life, before the driver put the car into gear and drove away from the house. Riku didn't think about it then, but his heart hurt not taking one last look.

The drive through Midgar was quiet, other than the sound of the car's engine. Neither of them had wanted to say anything, leaving Riku to sit in the seat, his mind consumed with thoughts and questions. He still didn't know where he was going, and something bugged him about what Tseng had said. 'I didn't think you were interested in cars, Riku.' What did that mean?

"Uhm... Mr. Tseng?" Riku turned to look at the man in the driver's seat, hoping he wasn't distracting from driving. Without even taking his eyes off the road, Tseng answered, in a calm tone.

"It's just Tseng. What can I do for you?"

"Your comment about the car... What did you mean by that?"

Tseng took a few moments to think about his answer before taking a look at the boy. His dark eyes seemed to soften while looking at him.

"Your mother used to talk to me a lot about you." Riku blinked at his answer. His mom knew Tseng? How? She worked as a materia and magic specialist at ShinRa Corps. He remembered hearing his mom talk about how she had taught Sephiroth how to use curative materia and magic, and that’s how his father met his mother but how did Tseng fit within the puzzle?

"How do you know my mom?" A small smile crawled onto Tseng's lips. It was as if he knew exactly what Riku was going to ask.

"Let me ask this question first. Do you know what a Turk is?"

Riku nodded. "An elite bodyguard for the military's president, Rufus ShinRa."

"Correct. I'm the leader of the Turks." Tseng nodded back an affirmation to Riku. "I had worked with your mother, quite extensively I might add."

His mother was coworkers with his driver. What a small world. Or a planned world. Who knew?

"Oh." Falling silent again, Riku turned to the window, watching the city pass. They had gotten on the highway and started passing downtown. The city was colored in grey like the overcast sky, making the already steel structured buildings even more bland. Watching the city pass cleared his head, giving him a few minutes of peace as he had nothing to think about. After they passed downtown, Tseng pulled off onto an exit heading towards the edge of the city.

"Where are we even going?" Riku asked as he pulled himself away from the window, watching through the front window.

"Sephiroth never told you where you were being sent to?" Tseng acted surprised at it, even though Riku wasn't. He was always the last to know anything.

"Nope."

Tseng frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. It took him a minute to respond, his eyes focusing straight onto the highway.

"I've been instructed to take you to ShinRa Corps."

His answer took Riku by surprise.

ShinRa Corps? The same military academy that his father went to? The same academy his mother worked at, and apparently so did Tseng? Nothing was making sense. Riku was a very structured individual with a boring bland record of rowdiness, and his father knew with the way his anxieties were that going into the military would probably end up breaking him.

Was that the point?

Turning back to the window, Riku slumped into his seat. Now he finally knew his father's plan. Send him away to a military school to break him. It made his anger spike. Now he wished he would have thrown his duffle bag at his father and hit him. That scheming psychopath. Sephiroth was no father to him, just a dick who he was unfortunately related to.

A chocobo wark broke him of his thoughts.

[Kairi: im gonna miss u]

She still made him smile. A sad smile, but a smile regardless.

[Riku: I want to fucking kill my dad. He's sending me to a military school, Kairi. SHINRA CORPS! I don't know what I'm going to do anymore.]

Barely a minute later, he got a series of texts.

[Kairi: WUT?!]

[Kairi: WHY THE FUCK?!?! WUT A DICK!!!!]

[Kairi: RUN AWAY AS SOON AS U CAN!!! ILL GET U]

Even angry, she was always looking out for him.

[Riku: You know I want to Kai.]

[Kairi: wuts stopn u?]

Good question. He locked his phone and looked out the window again, trying to think. Why didn't he just run away and live with Kairi? They could make it work right? He could find a job, and eventually go to school when he could. He would be so much happier if he left, but then again, he almost never disobeyed.

[Riku: I am. I can't bring myself to run away. Even when I had the chance last night, I ran right back home.]

Riku always knew he was a bit of a coward, but his text to Kairi only made his inner demons whisper their vile in his mind. You'll never be ready to come out of your father's control. Maybe you should just open the door and jump. You're going to die in the school anyways.

"Riku, we're here."

Looking up from his phone, he finally got to see the place where he was going to spend an undetermined amount of time in. The school was built into the side of a mountain, with a dusty valley at the edge of the city. It was designed with stealth in mind, no one being able to enter without passing over the mountain or passing through a series of gates that opened as soon as Tseng drove the car closer. Clearly whoever was opening the gates for him, knew who was the driver, or they knew the car.

Tseng navigated the car through the gates, up to the back side of the mountain, driving towards a concrete building, barely big enough to fit the car. The Turk parked in front of the building, leaving the car running as he got out. Riku followed suit, getting out. He put his phone into his pocket before closing the door and heading to the trunk to grab his stuff.

"This is where I leave you." Tseng stated, closing the trunk as Riku set the duffle bag on the ground.

"Wait." Riku slipped his arms through the straps of his backpack, halting Tseng's path back to the driver’s seat. "What am I supposed to do?"

Tseng nodded at the building with his head. "Get into the elevator and pull the lever. Tifa will take it from there."

With that, Tseng got into his car, speeding away from the silver haired boy, a cloud of dust picking up behind the car. He watched as the car disappeared, leaving him alone at last.

Riku picked up his bag, slinging the strap across his chest as he began the short walk to the elevator. He was starting to feel his heart race and his body shake, as another possible panic attack started to rise. No, he couldn't let it happen. Not now. Following Tseng's orders, he got inside the elevator and pulled the lever on the wall, before he covered his ears with his hands and closed his eyes. In for three Riku. You can do it. Now hold. One, two, three, four. Out for seven. Keep it up.

The elevator started to move as he released his breath. It made no sound as it lowered him to his fate. He kept his exercise up until the elevator slowed to a stop, removing his hands from his ears. The doors began to open as he lifted his head and saw who Tseng was talking about.

The 'Tifa' that Tseng had mentioned was a relatively tall woman dressed in a form fitting black dress that jiggled her tummy fat as she shifted from foot to foot. Riku tried not to stare, but had a hard time. She was extremely beautiful even though she was on the heavier set side. He swallowed hard and ducked his head as he moved to meet her.

"You must be Riku Jenova. It's very nice to finally meet you." Tifa gave him a sweet smile and held out a hand towards the new student. He nodded and shook her hand, keeping his eyes locked with hers.

"Nice to meet you too, Miss Tifa." Riku mumbled, cursing his anxiety. He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away to rub his neck. She grinned at him again and turned around, a door directly behind her.

"If you would follow me, I'll give you a tour of your new home for the next two years." Without a word he followed, gripping the strap of his duffle bag tightly. Butterflies filled his stomach as he passed through the door into a tunnel, strips of mild light showed them the way, etched into the wall. The light cast shadows of them as they walked, a creepy feeling filling his chest.

"You said, two years?" Riku asked, having a hard time finding his voice. His throat was tight as a sudden rush of anxiety raced through his veins. He didn't like the claustrophobic feeling, and being trapped in a hallway under piles of rock only made his stomach do flops. He wanted to leave badly. To return back to the surface and breath fresh air.

Tifa turned her head, nodding at him. Even with her heels, they were the same height, making it easier on the both of them. "Training last two years, then another five years of mission service before we place you into your permanent jobs."

Keeping pace with her, Riku looked away and at his feet as he processed it. His whole life was already being planned out for him, without a little consent. It made him feel nauseous. There just was something about being a bird with clipped wings that made him sick.

It took him a moment before he looked up. They had arrived to another door. Tifa stepped up to the side of the door where a small grid glowed rested on the wall. She took her left wrist, holding up a thin silver bracelet up to the scanner. A small chirping sounded after the scanner scanned her bracelet, opening the doors.

The world beyond the door was like a scene from the movie Divergent- one of Riku's favourites. Walls made of rock, with hastily made rope bridges stringing across paired with a sudden drop off to the left. People wandered about, climbing walls or running along the cliffs edge. It was strange to see such a beautiful room hidden away in a mountain.

"Please follow me." Tifa started walking forward, beckoning for him to follow. Even with a bunch of people out and about in the cave, no one stepped in their way. This made Riku feel slightly better but not by much. His heart rammed in his chest as he trailed behind the woman, trying to keep his breathing in check.

Tifa led him through the main cavern, keeping a steady pace even walking across rickety bridges. Neither person said a word, causing the bubble in Riku's chest continue to expand. Her words were eating at him. Two years of training, then another five years of missions before he was even able to get placed in a job. Granted he would have been in school for that long for paramedic schooling, but it wasn't a forced position. He wanted to spend seven years in school. It meant he would be well prepared to save lives. Here? He had no idea what he was even training for.

“Wait, what do you mean by mission service?” He asked stepping up next to her as she led him off into a side hallway. Tifa left his question unanswered, continuing down the hallway until they reached the door a short walk away. She turned to him and reached out, resting a gentle hand on the side of his arm. He didn’t dare look at it, instead looking down at her as she looked up. Her heels did nothing to add to her height. It didn’t help that he was freakishly tall.

“You will learn everything you need to know soon. In our line of work, patience yields focus.” Tifa removed her hand and turned to the door, giving the solid wood a few curt rasps before turning back to him. “Mr. Leonhart will get you set up with everything you need.”

She started to head away right as the door had started to open, bringing his attention away from the Dean. The man behind the door was about as tall as he was, with steel blue eyes and wispy chocolate hair. His features were rather plain with the exception of the aged scar and resting bitch face he wore.

Riku bowed slightly, biting his lip a little bit. The man kept staring at him with his bored eyes. What was his problem?

“When you’re done with whatever you’re doing, come inside. We have work to do.” Cold much? He watched as the teacher turned away from him, returning to the simple desk. There was nothing else for Riku to do other than follow him, dragging his duffle bag and backpack into the room. Out of habit he closed the door behind him.

As Riku walked into the room, there was a not a whole lot going on. A bookshelf mainly empty sat behind the small desk. A small plaque and certificate hung on the wall next to him. All in all, this room was close to a broom closet. How could someone willingly choose this as a room? He felt small just by standing in front of the closed door.

“Put your things in the corner. I need a full body scan.” Mr. Leonhart stated in a bored tone, scooping a set of gloves and a sleek pair of glasses off the desk. Quickly following his request, he set his stuff in the corner and stood where the man pointed.

Leonhart slipped the gloves and glasses on, taking a brief moment before clapping his hands together, and held them up. Riku froze, his anxiety spiking. What was going on? He didn’t understand anything and his mind raced with a thousand possibilities, none of them good.

“Turn for me. Slowly.” He did what he was told, biting his lip. After he had turned in a full circle, the teacher returned to his desk. He sat down in the desk chair, and snapped his fingers, digital holograms appearing before Riku’s eyes. There his holographic self stood, with little stars popping up around his body.

“I assume you don’t know what this is.” Mr. Leonhart looked through the image at Riku as if he had done this before. He flicked his hand to the side, having the holograph spin.

“No, sir.” The teacher brushed away his bangs before tapping on one of the stars that was next to the image’s head.

“This system is called the ShinRa Hologram Internal Technology,” he starts in a monotone, as if bored. “All the staff here use this system to keep track of every SOLDIER’s training.” The star created a little line connecting to a list. Stage One Agoraphobia. Stage Three Panic Disorder . Riku read, holding his breath. He remembered his doctor diagnosing him with those exact things. His heart started pounding in his chest. What was up with this system? Did it read his mind?

“So… What does that mean?” He asked, pointing to the words next to his holograph. Of course he knew exactly what they meant, but why they were showing up was what he was aiming for. Did the system know all his faults? Although it didn’t list that he had daddy or self image issues.

“It’s a list of important things that could hinder your training.” Leonhart tapped on the star again, having the list disappear. Knots started forming in Riku’s stomach, just as his throat tightened. Great. Not only was he unfit to be Sephiroth’s son, but his mental illness was a possible hindrance to his new school. Questions started popping up in his mind. What if he was deemed unworthy to even be in this military academy? Would he go back home? No there was no way his father would take him back, but there was no where else for him.

Mr. Leonhart swiped the hologram away, blinking as the see-through image of Riku dissipated into nothing. He took off the glasses and gloves, leaving them on the bare desk before pushing back his chair and standing up.

Quickly he went to grab his stuff and follow Mr. Leonhart out of the office, slugging the bags onto his back. Riku was used to carrying a lot more weight than this, especially when his mother had urged him into joining band. Instrument of choice? Snare drums. “Where are we going now?”

“Orientation.” Riku swallowed thickly, biting his lip as they exited the room.

#;duckywrites #;monster #;kingdom hearts #;final fantasy #;riku

5 notes · View notes