#the SOFTNESS of how denzell cared for him

[doyelikehaggis]

25 Days of Sleighpairs: Lord John Grey x Denzell Hunter (Outlander) + “Comfort”

It was a long, tiresome night. Being on the run had a rather exhausting effect; although, John wasn't entirely sure if it was down to that or the injuries to his face. Whatever the cause, they proved effective in sending him into a blissful, dreamless sleep. He had not the faintest idea how long he had been out for, but when he roused, he found Dr Hunter's heavy eyes on him.

A small smile graced his lips when he realized he was awake, but it slipped into professional concern as he immediately made to move closer. 'Are you in pain?'

John wasn't entirely sure how to answer that; he thought he might be, as there was a dull ache in his head, but it also felt completely detached from his body. It was like he was split in two.

'Not as much anymore,' he said truthfully.

Dr Hunter still touched his face tenderly. He didn't dare remove the patch from his eye, seemingly not wanting to disturb its healing. But he touched every other inch of skin around it, gently inspecting the cut on his forehead and cheek. John couldn't do anything but sit there and watch him. Not because he was too weak, no, because he was startled by his delicate touch.

In the last few days, he had gone between yearning for human contact, feeling despairingly starved of it, to being overwhelmed by the touch of another.

His chest was still battered and bruised and stinging from the marks Claire's nails had raked across his skin. Jamie hadn't been any gentler, but he had expected nothing less, he supposed. He still wasn't sure which hurt the most, whether it was the brutal beating or his shattered heart. It had already broken before he had thrown the first punch; that damage had been done the moment he had started to believe that Jamie Fraser was dead.

Even now, he could feel the sharpness scraping his chest, cutting up his insides like he was made of paper. But he could also feel Dr Hunter tenderly, attentively checking him over, maybe more so than was entirely necessary, but what did he know?

'We should leave soon,' Dr Hunter told him, his voice low so as to avoid the possibility of being detected in their hiding spot in the woods.

'Yes, of course,' John said agreeably. He then looked at him properly, taking in the shadows under his eyes. 'Have you slept at all, Dr Hunter?'

He shook his head. 'No. Thee was restless, and I was worried.'

'You should rest.'

He still seemed hesitant, but, as a healer, it was evident that he knew they would not get much further if he was too exhsuated to see straight. He nodded, and he lay down on the cave floor beside John, who watched him. He remained facing him.

It was a strangely comforting gesture, made even more so by the way that he reached out for John again, fingers brushing his hand between them. In his delirious state, he wondered the meaning behind it, if there was one at all. Then he slipped back off again, cocooned in warmth from the closeness of another.

[secondarysefikura]

Cloud is basically a sahm taking care of his and Sephiroth’s kids and he’s seemingly content with his role and is a loving mother to all of their children, while Sephiroth is probably training their kid when their old enough to help him protect their mother, and to the kids everything seems to be great, after all their parents both clearly love them all and are clearly happy with each other. However there have been some instances where some of the kids notice that something seems to be wrong with Cloud, there have been times when one of the kids would find Cloud seemingly staring at nothing with what looks like a dead expression on his face and if they manage to snap him out of it he’ll just give them his usual warm smile and say that he’s just tired and he’ll be fine, sometimes when one of the kids is walking past their parents’ bedroom they’ll hear Cloud in there crying, bringing up names that none of them have ever heard of before, and is either begging for forgiveness or apologizing for not being strong enough to save any of them, and if they ask about it he’ll just give a warm smile and say he was having just a bad dream and he’s fine, around the time Sephiroth tells the kids that their going to have another sibling soon one of them hears Cloud crying in their bedroom again, only he’s saying things like how he doesn’t want anymore, and begging to know when he’ll finally be satisfied and when asked what he was talking about Cloud will once again give the kid a warm smile and say that they have been hearing things and he’s fine. At one point one their youngest kids shows Cloud a picture they made of their growing family and as Cloud looks at the drawing in his hands he starts shaking, tears running down his face, and he gives a quivering smile and says that it’s beautiful, and when asked if he’s ok Cloud will say that he’s perfectly fine, as tears continue to fall and his smile continues to quiver.

Basically many years after Sephiroth won, killed Cloud’s friends and was seemingly successful in making Cloud his fully obedient/dotting puppet/wife, Sephiroth eventually decides it’s time for them to start having kids(Sephiroth probably uses the Jenova cells in Cloud to make it possible for Cloud to bear their young). But there are still times(though rare) when Cloud has been able to break free from Sephiroth’s control but there’s nothing he can do to stop him and both he and Sephiroth know this. He’s trapped living with the man who he once admired, and who took everyone he loved from him, and is stuck caring for kids he never wanted and may never love unless he’s under Sephiroth’s control

Oh that's good!

I don't think Sephiroth even has to do too much to make Cloud play his role as a dutiful mother, since Cloud seems to have a soft spot for children (case and point with Denzel, since Cloud and Tifa just find an orphan and go "cool, lets adopt him.") Cloud just naturally wants to protect his children, even if sometimes the fact that they're Sephiroth's terrifies him. Besides, Sephiroth is proof that treating a child like some sort of weapon or monster isn't going to end well for anyone, so it's best if Cloud does his best to love his children.

Now as for Cloud sometimes breaking free from Sephiroth's control and the children noticing? I bet Sephiroth has them trained to report right back to him anytime they notice their dear mother acting strangely or being sad. Unbeknownst to the children, they're essentially Sephiroth's little security cameras, reporting back anytime Cloud shows a hint of dissatisfaction or longing for something other than the life he has been forced into.

"...around the time Sephiroth tells the kids that their going to have another sibling soon one of them hears Cloud crying in their bedroom again, only he’s saying things like how he doesn’t want anymore, and begging to know when he’ll finally be satisfied and when asked what he was talking about Cloud will once again give the kid a warm smile and say that they have been hearing things and he’s fine."

Now that's a wonderfully dark image! Cloud's sanity definitely grows thinner with every new child, and the fact he doesn't have a say in the matter makes it all worse! And as to when Sephiroth will be satisfied? Something tells me he is creating a little army of warriors for himself, and Cloud is going to be the one to bear every single member of that army.

Poor Cloud is going to have a hell of a time explaining away the bruise on his face that appeared the morning after the children reported hearing him crying and begging to know when Sephiroth will be satisfied.

[ampedupkaon]

August Writing Challenge Day 15: Fraudrin/Grayroad

AN: This one should have been hard to work out as well... but again, came quite easily to me. Set the night after the fight between the Pleiades of the Azure Sky and Fraudrin and Grayroad.

“Let me guess, you want to kill me?” Fraudrin asked. The zombified knight stumbled over towards him, moaning and groaning just like every other that had come to his mind before it. It was all too easy to dispatch with his sword. He also knew that there was no chance that was the last of them. He would just start to settle and then he'd hear another moan, another zombie knight come to torment him.

“Curse that Denzel.” He grumbled. He'd not saw Zaratras, and that puzzled him a little. Surely that man should have been first in line; given how brutally he'd killed the man. The zombie knight was that archer again; the one from the Roars of Dawn. He'd dispatched that archer before. Which meant they just went round and round in circles. He opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings once more. The moon was still high in the sky.

“Can't sleep?” He looked to his companion, a sight more frightening than any zombie who'd been plaguing his thoughts. To a human at least. Grayroad was a treasure, a very special demon.

“Something like that.” He answered, finding a different way to lie down. He closed his eyes, again being plagued by zombie knights. He got up again quarter of an hour later.

“That old man laid a curse on you, did he not?” Grayroad remarked. She didn't appear to be tired. Then again, she'd snacked on quite a few souls on their travels.

“Upon Dreyfus. I've not seen a single goddess amongst the zombies in my mind.” Fraudrin knew he'd killed several; recalling a foolish goddess troop that had tried to pen him in. He'd gone Full Size and squashed them all. The memory of their feathers tickling between his fingers and toes made him shudder.

“I'd suggest being closer to a stronger nightmare might frighten them off momentarily.” He smirked; knowing what that sounded like.

“Is that you asking me to sleep with you?” She made a snort of amusement.

“I forgot your particular brand of humour Fraudrin.” He grinned, knowing his comment had been made in jest. He wasn't interested in dalliances of that kind either.

“Your suggestion is worth a try.” He made his way over to the tree Grayroad had chosen to rest underneath, before sitting down and leaning back against the trunk. She lowered down, settling beside him. He could feel the comforting tickle of the darkness which surrounded her against the back of his right hand.

“Do you want me to kiss your forehead and wish you sweet dreams?” She asked, making him snort this time. She was joking in exactly the same way he was.

“Dreyfus appears rather disturbed by the thought.” He informed her. She got comfortable against the tree as well, strands of darkness coiling and flicking around him. If Fraudrin had been the cuddling type, he might have slipped an arm around her. Since he wasn't, he let his eyes slip closed. Sleep came quickly, thankfully free from zombies. He woke up about an hour later; having Meliodas stab him through all seven hearts had been disturbing. Which meant it was a normal nightmare. He was sure the others had similar ones.

“Sleeping beside you does help.” He told Grayroad. He received no answer, so turned to look. Her eyes were closed, at least on all the faces he could see. Her breathing was even in a way you couldn't replicate when awake. She'd dozed off as well. Fraudrin stretched up, careful not to accidentally hit her, before adjusting how he was sitting. If an arm slipped behind her, there was no one to see his moment of softness. Nor would anyone who did see the two of them together be looking at that; they'd be looking at her and running away screaming. He was slightly curled towards her too, again unseen by anyone.

“Hope your dreams are nicer than mine.” He whispered, before letting his eyes close once more. His dreams had considerably less monsters trying to kill him this time. He had a strange dream though. One where Grayroad had asked him to help him with producing spawn. He'd saw her do that, capture enemies in cocoons and for them to hatch into demons. The way she was giggling reminded him of a few female demons he'd known in the past. Ones who wanted the dalliances he had no interest in. It had woken him up, but he quickly went back to sleep. He'd ponder what it might be trying to tell him in the morning.

AN: Grayroad was rather curious about Fraudrin's arm being around her in the morning. He informs her he must have done it in his sleep and she believes him; he has no reason to lie after all.

[larkawolfgirl]

Fatherhood (Cloud/Tifa)

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Compilation of Final Fantasy VII

Relationship: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife

Characters: Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart, Marlene Wallace, Original Child Character(s)

Additional Tags: implied aerith/tifa/cloud, Zack/Cloud if you squint, Pregnancy, Parenthood, Fatherhood, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Past Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife

Summary:

Without warning, Cloud is thrust into a role he is not prepared for.

Read on AO3

Cloud entered the new Seventh Heaven positioned directly beneath their home. The bar was abuzz around him, a symphony of clinks and murmurs that he barely registered. Tifa had outdone herself; the establishment was alive, a maelstrom of energy that she commanded with effortless grace. The barkeep was nowhere to be seen, however. Instead, a young girl was sitting in the booth nearest to the bar. 

Marlene glanced up from her book as he approached, a soft smile lighting up her face. "Hey, Cloud," she greeted warmly.

“Where’s Tifa?” he asked.

“Said she had something to do. I’m filling in for now.”

“Let me take over.” Cloud had always been conflicted with the concept of the young girl serving alcohol, but she had been doing it since she was old enough to learn how to mix properly and she never complained. 

“What are you reading?” he asked, squeezing into the booth beside her. 

"It's a story about knights and dragons," Marlene said excitedly, flipping the pages to show him the colorful illustrations. "I like to pretend that Daddy is a knight going away to fight evil dragons."

Cloud’s chest tightened, knowing how much she must miss him. “Are you doing okay? With Barret being away so much?” He wasn’t opposed to tracking the man down and physically dragging him back home.

Her face fell. “I’m used to it,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. “Of course, I miss him. But…” She took his oversized hand in hers. “I have you and Tifa, so I’m okay. He gets caught up in saving everybody and forgets about me, but you two don’t.”

“Your father loves you very much.”

“I know. But lately, you’ve felt more like a dad to me.” 

Her voice was quiet, as if she was worried that he might become angry. He didn’t blame her considering that he had once lost his temper when Denzel called him Dad. He wanted to be better. It wasn’t their fault that he had reservations with that title. 

“I care about you and Denzel a lot,” Cloud conceded. “But I’m still not your father.”

“Neither is Daddy. Not really.” 

Silence fell between them. Then, she jumped up in a showcase of the innocence that persisted through the shadows of her life. “You don’t have to be a dad to act like one.” Her tone was insistent, leaving no room for arguing. 

He shook his head, holding back a chuckle at her forcefulness. “I suppose you’re right.”

She grinned and started running up the stairs. “I’m going to go play with Denzel.”

Cloud’s gaze fixed on the polished surface of the bar, but he saw none of the faint reflections in its gleam. Laughter and the clatter of glasses continued to surround him, but he felt the world still as he lost himself to his thoughts. As a child, he had never been one to entertain grand visions of domesticity. The very notion of fatherhood seemed as distant and alien as the stars dotting the night sky above Nibelheim. He remembered, with an inward wince, how his younger self would recoil from company, his shyness like an invisible barrier between him and the world. Even the simplest interactions were fraught with anxiety, and he became adept at pushing people away before they could glimpse the vulnerability he guarded so fiercely. The idea of anyone putting up with him long enough to become his friend seemed unrealistic; the idea of someone liking him enough to become his girlfriend, then wife, then mother of his child was absurd.

But somehow, he had made friends. First with Tifa, then Zack, and finally their mix-matched band of teammates. His attempts at pushing people away must not have been as effective as he assumed, or else his friends had the stubbornness of a mule. Knowing them, he would bet his gil on the latter. 

And somehow, Tifa was on her way to doing all of those things he never dreamed of. They had this comfortable life together, and he found himself finally questioning what the future held for them rather than hyper focusing on the current mission so as not to worry about misfortune might befall him next. Life had showered him in a shit storm, but most of the clouds had moved aside, allowing the sun to finally shine into his Mako-infused eyes. The future seemed promising for once; a future with Tifa, who never gave up on him, and Marlene and Denzel, who relied on him.

The weight of their trust was a badge he wore with a mixture of humility and determination. Tifa’s unwavering support, her kind smile that could chase away the shadows of doubt in his mind, her gentle touch that spoke volumes in its silent understanding. She saw past the hardened facade he wore like a second skin, piercing through the layers of pain and guilt to reach the fragile heart that beat beneath. The way Marlene and Denzel saw him as someone capable of comfort and guidance. The girl’s infectious laughter and the boy’s fierce determination to be strong like him. They were all treasures he never thought he deserved.

The door swung open, admitting a fresh wave of chatter and the evening's cool breath. Tifa stepped through with a presence that instantly called everyone’s attention. A few patrons raised their glass to her, and one lone man called out a hello. Returning the greeting, her eyes scanned the room, taking in the patrons and the state of affairs with a practiced sweep until they landed on Cloud.

He remained anchored to his seat as she approached. There was a quality to her movement, an eager bounce that suggested she was eager to tell him something. His reflection dissipated, replaced with anticipation for whatever she was about to share. 

Tifa's hand settled on his shoulder.. He looked up, gaze meeting hers, and his breath caught at the clarify of his reflection in her eyes.

"Cloud," she said, her voice brimming with an excitement that spilled over. "I'm pregnant."

Her words hung in the air, earth-shattering, reshaping the entire world around him. The clamor of the bar faded into a muffled backdrop, as if the universe had conspired to give this moment the reverence it deserved. Cloud remained silent, his own feelings momentarily caught in the gravity of her revelation.

His eyes snapped wide at this unforeseen plot twist in his life. leaving only Tifa's expectant gaze and the steady thump of his heart loud in his ears. A myriad of emotions fought within him—fear, hope, disbelief—all clashing into a frenzy that threatened to conquer him.

As the initial shock began to settle, a frown creased his brow. Memories, dark and smoldering like the remnants of Nibelheim's destruction, crept in. He had walked away from the ashes of his hometown with a resolve that had since turned into an unspoken vow: to spare any new soul from being drawn into the chaos and sorrow that seemed to trail behind him like a relentless storm.

The ghosts of his past loomed over him, whispering of loss and the cruel fate that had befallen those he held dear. How could he, a man who had struggled to protect even those closest to him, dare to bring a new life into a world that had shown him so much pain? The very notion clawed at him, a silent scream against the joy that he was supposed to feel.

Yet Tifa stood before him, her presence and eternal strength a balm to his negative thoughts. She carried within her the promise of a bright future—a future Cloud had never allowed himself to entertain, lest it crumble to dust like so many dreams before it.

Once, Aerith had elicited a beautiful fantasy. The Ancient had walked into his life like a rainbow after an endless storm. Her laugh was a melody that could make the slums of Midgar seem like a field of wildflowers. She found joy in the simplicity of existence, in the stray dog searching for scraps or the wilted blossom struggling towards the sun from a crack in the concrete. With every step she took, she rewove the fabric of the world, showing him colors he'd forgotten existed.

To her, hope was a certainty as real as the earth beneath their feet. He used to watch her tend to her flowers, her hands gentle and sure, her spirit unmarred by the shadows that clung to the corners of their lives. Aerith would whisper encouragement to each bud, believing that some part of them could hear her. Cloud caught himself imagining what it would be like for her to cradle a child of her own, to see her pass on that same optimism, that nurturing love, that unwavering belief in beauty despite the evidence of the contrary.

Yet the world was cruel, and fate even crueler. The day Aerith's light was extinguished, something vital within him had shattered. It was a loss that echoed the hollowness he felt when Zack, bright and brash Zack who embodied heroism and honor, had fallen. Their souls too pure, too full of life to deserve falling into the darkness that seemed to ever loom in the peripherals of their lives.

He remembered the weight of silence after she was gone, how the planet itself seemed to mourn. The color faded, leaving him with nothing but the echo of her absence.

Cloud let out a slow breath. The raw edges of those memories dulled slightly with time, but never quite healed. They were scars upon his heart, reminders of what could have been—and of what was irrevocably lost.

Cloud scrutinized his reflection on the table.He saw many things: an introvert, an outcast, a test-subject, a warrior, a protector, a friend, a lover, a hardass, a disappointment. The role of father was one he wasn’t sure he could fulfill. 

"Cloud?" Tifa's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts, yet it did little to still the tremor of doubt within him.

"Can I really do this, Tifa? Look at me. I've always kept everyone at arm's length. I'm not exactly a model of warmth and affection."

Her hand found his, reassuring. "You're more than you think you are," she said softly, her eyes holding his with earnest intensity. "You've been there for Marlene and Denzel. You might not see it yourself, but you care, Cloud. And they feel it—your love and your protection."

"But being someone’s dad..." he trailed off, the word alien and heavy on his tongue.

"There isn’t a right or wrong way to parent. You don't have to say much. It's in every action, every time you put their needs before your own." Her smile was gentle, an unspoken assurance that she believed in him more than he believed in himself.

Cloud looked away, his gaze drifting over the familiarity of the bar. Perhaps, in the quiet moments he'd shared with those kids, in the sacrifices he didn't even realize he was making, there was a capacity for fatherhood he had never credited himself with.

"Maybe," he finally murmured, the admission a tentative step toward believing.

The lone man who had greeted Tifa earlier called out for another round. Cloud watched as the woman he loved moved with practiced ease behind the bar counter. The way she mixed several kinds of alcohol creating a new concoction reminded him that he wasn’t a bunch of different things, but a conglomerate of everything combined, hopefully creating something better than any individual part. 

Maybe he could become what this child needed; maybe he already was, in ways he hadn't realized.

When Tifa returned to his side, she leaned against the wall. His eyes roamed down to her flat, exposed stomach. It was hard to imagine that a baby was growing inside. “How far along?”

She smiled, putting a hand to her non-existent bulge. “Three weeks. It will take a while before I start showing.”

Unbidden, the image of Aerith excitement rubbing over her stomach came to mind. She would have been ecstatic, a better reaction than his own doubts. "It should've been Aerith, instead," he said, voice raw. "She... she would have been amazing at this." His gaze dropped to the worn wood of the bar counter.

Tifa's somber gaze lingered on the empty space between them, her eyes reflecting an understanding that stretched beyond words. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Cloud's calloused hand with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the scars of many battles. Her touch was light, yet it anchored him to the moment, to the reality they both had to face.

"Aertih…" she began, her voice low and steady, "She would have been an amazing mother."

With a gentle motion, she lifted his hand, bringing it to her lips. The soft kiss she placed upon his knuckles was not just a gesture of love but also one of shared loss, a silent vow that they would honor the memory of their friend together.

"Neither of us could have had a child on our own. You would have been a part of that miracle, too."

Cloud's heart clenched at the truth of her words, grappling with the weight of a life that might have been, and the life that was unfolding before him.

When he didn’t respond, she continued. "Aerith saw the best in us," she whispered, "in you. She believed in possibility, in the new life we're building now. That belief—it's a gift, Cloud. And it's ours to carry forward."

Cloud watched as Tifa's eyes, often so full of strength, softened with a vulnerability that tugged at something primal within him. Her hand was still in his, her warmth a stark contrast to the chill of his doubts.

"Cloud," she said, her voice a whisper of resolve, "all we can do is try to be the parents Aerith would have helped us become."

He tried to imagine it—himself as a father, bearing the responsibility of nurturing a life, of protecting innocence from the demons living inside his head. It felt like standing at the precipice of an unknowable abyss, but Tifa's presence beside him served as an anchor, grounding him to the present.

Watching Tifa go through labor was excruciating. Her beautiful face contourted in pain, screams falling from her lips, and all Cloud could see was that she was hurting. In his protective rage, he nearly broke the midwife’s arm before Tifa’s calming voice reminded him that this was normal; she would be alright. It wasn’t a certainty, though, and every clench of her muscles caused his blood to boil. 

Over, over, it needed to be over. 

"Deep breaths,” he urged, attempting to sooth her even though his voice was hard and tight. "Focus on my voice."

Tifa nodded through a contraction, squeezing his hand with a ferocity that might have hurt him if not for the Mako running through his veins. He marveled at her strength, even through her contractions.

“You’re almost there.”

As another wave crested, she bore down, her breaths coming in sharp gasps. Her hand crushed his with each push until finally, the midwife lifted up a small mass of bloody pink. 

A wail of new life pierced the silence, resonating deep within Cloud's very soul. He watched, his breath held captive, as Tifa cradled their newborn daughter to her chest. The midwife gently cleaned the infant, and as the baby's features came into view, a hushed sense of wonder fell upon the room.

Cloud stepped closer, his eyes tracing the contours of the tiny face—a mirror image of Aerith's, with the same delicate brow and sparkling green eyes. It was as though time had folded in on itself, and for an instant, he could see Aerith there in Tifa's arms, her spirit born anew.

A sob caught in Tifa’s throat, raw and filled with a love so powerful it threatened to overwhelm the both of them. Tears blurred his vision, each droplet refracting the light, casting prisms across the walls as if the Lifestream itself danced around them.

"Aerith," Tifa whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

The name settled over them like a hymn. Cloud reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed against the soft tuft of hair atop the baby's head. His heart, once heavy with the weight of loss, now swelled with a joy so profound it carved through the numbness that had long been his shield.

"Hello, Aerith," he managed through the tightness in his throat, his words barely more than a whisper. They were tears of happiness that mingled on his cheeks with Tifa's—a shared testament to the enduring legacy of love they both carried.

In that sacred moment, with Tifa and their daughter by his side, Cloud knew what it meant to be whole again.

The chocobo mobile spun lazily above the crib, its gentle melody filling the small nursery as Cloud stood at the threshold. He watched Tifa cradle their daughter, Aerith's namesake, her soft coos a tender harmony to the music.

"Cloud," she said softly. Her smile held a secret, something shimmering just beneath the surface like the sun glinting off the water. "I have news."

Drawn to her side, his hand automatically reaching out to stroke the baby's cheek. Tifa took a breath, her gaze flickering between him and their child before it steadied, locked onto his.

"I'm pregnant again," she announced, the words lifting into the room like a prayer set free.

He felt the world tilt, a joyous disorientation that left him momentarily speechless. Another child—a sibling for Aerith. His heart, still tender from the birth of their daughter, expanded with a rush of unexpected emotions. It was hope mixed with the ghost of old fears, but above all, it was love—vast and boundless.

"A boy," she continued, watching him closely, gauging his reaction. “Call it mother’s instinct.”

A son. The notion settled within him, both daunting and exhilarating. Images of Zack flashed through his mind—the grin, the easy laughs, and the courage that had buoyed him through darkness. The name came to him unbidden, as natural as drawing breath.

"Zack," he whispered. The single syllable was a tribute, an offering to the past that shaped their present.

Tifa's eyes widened with understanding, then softened with a fondness that made her seem to glow. "Zack," she repeated, tasting the name, embracing its significance. "It's perfect."

She shifted Aerith gently in her arms, making room for Cloud to sit beside her.

"Tell me about him," she said with gentle curiousity. "About Zack. I want to understand more about the man who meant so much to you... and to Aerith."

Cloud hesitated. Zack existed in the worst of his memories, but he existed in some of his favorites as well. Speaking about him was skirting the edge between nostalgia and trauma. But this was Tifa, and this was their future—a son who would bear the name of a hero, continuing to carrying on the legacy Cloud inherited.

"Zack," he began, his voice finding strength as he spoke, "was the kind of person who made you believe in the impossible..."

His gaze drifted toward the window where twilight painted the sky in hues of purple and gold. "He had this laugh," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the ache it brought. "Loud enough to startle birds into flight. He never cared who heard it."

Tifa's hand found his, her fingers curling around his palm in a warm, comforting clasp. "Sounds like he was full of life."

"More than anyone I've ever known." Cloud turned to meet her eyes, their depth reflecting patience and a desire to understand. He took a steadying breath, as darker memories tried to surface. "We were on this mission once, sneaking into an enemy base. Everyone was tense, all except Zack. He just grinned, saying we'd breeze through it. And somehow, we did."

"Because of his confidence?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Because he made us believe in ourselves," he clarified. "Even whenever shit hit the fan, Zack would stand tall, sword swinging, always the shield between danger and the rest of us."

Her thumb brushed against the back of his hand. "What else do you remember?"

"The fact that he was never worried about what anyone else thought–except probably Angeal. He never hid himself. And his sense of humor." Cloud chuckled, the sound more of a whisper than a true expression of mirth. "He used to play pranks on the other recruits and then pretend he didn’t know anything about it. One time he put hair dye in our shampoo bottles, but then acted like nothing was unusual when everyone showed up to training with green hair."

“He didn’t prank you?”

Cloud shook his head, a gentle smile on his face. “He never targeted me. Zack was my best friend, and he knew the other guys… didn’t like me very much. When it came to stuff like that, he’d usually warn me beforehand.”

"I wish I could have known him better," Tifa murmured, her lips curving into a tender smile.

Cloud's heart swelled with gratitude for the woman beside him, for the way she readily embraced his past. "You would have loved him," he said sincerely. "He would have loved you too."

Their linked hands symbolized the connection between their past and future.The pain of loss might never fully fade, but the love that remained with them was a guiding force, pushing them ever forward.

Cloud carefully placed their newborn next to Aerith. Their tiny hands almost touched in the space between their cribs. Tifa gently adjusted the blankets around them, ensuring both infants were cocooned in warmth.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, the couple watched their children with a reverence that stilled the world around them. In the silence, Cloud felt the weight of his past—the hollow echoes of loss that had long resonated within him—begin to fade. 

Aerith's serene face mirrored the grace of her namesake, while Zack's occasional wriggles and soft sighs reminded him of a friend's boundless energy. The sight of two new lives so full of potential and innocence, filled the spaces grief had carved out of him. The void left by those he had loved and lost was now a quiet place of honor as their memory lived on in the bright eyes and gentle breaths of his children.

"Cloud?" Tifa's soft voice drew him back from his reflections.

It took him a moment before he could look away from their children. "They're perfect.” The words were barely a whisper, but his revelation shown through.

Tifa smiled and intertwined their fingers as they had countless times before—a silent reminder that they could get through anything together. 

Cloud squeezed her hand back, silently acknowledging that he would do everything in his power to become the best father he could be. In the stillness of the room, surrounded by love and innocence, he realized that the demons in his head were quiet. His children were what completed his fragmented soul, bringing him back to wholeness. Every battle fought, every heartache endured, had led him to this moment of profound clarity. This was what he needed—a purpose beyond the sword and strife, a love so unconditional it transcended heartache.

“Thank you.”

Tifa studied his face before resting her head against his shoulder.

[pyronormalsimplicity]

FF7 Treasured Times Headcanons

 - Whenever they cuddle together, Tifa likes to place her head over Cloud’s heart and listen to his heartbeat. When Cloud asks her about it, she blushes and says that she likes it because it makes her feel safe and reminds her that he’s still alive and present.

 - Cloud also likes the color of Cloud’s mako-enhanced eyes because even though it’s unnatural, Cloud’s eyes are soft and gentle. It still makes her sad that she’ll never be able to see his natural blue eyes again but she admits that she’s secretly grateful for them since they can now be together

 - Cloud likes the tuft of hair that always seems to cover one side of her face and likes playing with her hair if he can get away with it.

 - He also likes the sound of her voice with how husky and low it can be at times while being much higher and feminine when she’s excited

 - He also finds her physique extraordinarily attractive, causing Tifa to roll her eyes and tell him that she’s heard those words a thousand times before and that he needed a better compliment. In response, Cloud murmurs some NSFW stuff into her ear and causes her to become embarrassed before slapping his chest playfully

 - Cloud admits that he likes her legs and finds the way her hip sways when she walks to be particularly eye-catching. He also enjoys hugs from Tifa since she presses up against him, much to her chagrin.

 - Tifa fuckin’ hates being stacked, believe it or not. She’s gotten used to the lecherous looks over the years, but there are still times where she complains about her back aches and not fitting into a lot of her clothes. She has to order specially-made bras from a company that specializes in “unique” body shapes and is often forced to spend a lot of money on them since they’re so expensive.

 - Tifa also admits being an hourglass figure sucks because she can never find pants that fit, hence why she prefers skirts. It’s still small potatoes in the grand scheme of things and its the back aches that get her the most.

 - Her back aches only becomes a problem on days where she’s not wearing a bra. Cloud asks why she doesn’t go commando and she blushes, saying that they would only get in the way and that having them swing around can and will become extraordinarily painful. Plus, bras can get uncomfortable

 - Tifa only orders black bars. Since she runs the bar and washes the dishes a lot, having a translucent top is kinda not the way to go

- When Tifa wore her old clothes, Cloud notices a small difference and points out her black sports bra underneath her tank top. Assuming that it was just another tank top underneath, he gently pulls on it, causing her to yelp and slap his hand away before playfully scolding him.

 - Tifa finds the most attractive part about Cloud is his arms, face, and chest, but that she doesn’t really care what he looks like because he’s already perfect in her eyes, causing him to blush heavily.

 - When Cloud asks her why she puts up with unruly customers, Tifa explains that it was because she knew that they likely didn’t have anyone or anywhere else to go to in order to talk their heart out, so she offers her bar. If it helps people, she’s fine with their rants. Cloud stares at her for a few seconds before declaring that he loves her, shocking Tifa with both words and how sudden and un-Cloud-like it was. 

Inspired by this post  on IG by uwelables: https://www.instagram.com/p/CNmRWaiDu2N/

 - Cloud’s worst fear is failing Tifa and the family again.

 - Tifa’s worst fear is losing Cloud and her family again.

 - Tifa has a fear of ghosts, which is a common teasing point for her from Cloud. The reason she’s afraid of ghosts is because she can’t physically touch them but they can touch her, so she’s practically defenseless. Obviously there’s the ghost monster in the Remake but it’s the concept of them that she’s scared of.

 - Cloud isn’t actually scared of anything, but he is able to get startled, espeically when Denzel and Marlene jump out at him from a dark corner and he almost piledrives them into the ground

Inspired by this classic vine! https://youtu.be/gJu1xEZEuto

 - When Cloud collapses while doing dishes, Tifa and the kidsrush him to the hospital. There, they learn that Cloud is suffering from advanced celluar degradation. According to the doctors, the reason Cloud’s cells are dying is because they’re too used to having mako-enhancing them. Without the mako enhancing his cells, they’re unable to survive and start dying. The only way for cloud to continue living is to receive doses of mako every so often. Not like when Cloud was being experimented on by Hojo but enough for his body to stop his cells from killing themselves. It’s sort of how a heavy smoker is dependent on constant cigars to prevent withdrawal. It’s the same thing for Cloud but he’s not a smoker and he has to take mako doses via pills

 - The pills themselves are extraordinarily expensive to create since they’re perfectly diluted so that Cloud doesn’t give himself mako poisoning but have enough mako to trick his body into thinking its doing good.

 - The doctor then leaves Cloud and Tifa alone in the hospital room with the pill on a table for Cloud to consume if he chooses to. Cloud refuses at first but relents when Tifa breaks down, crying that it wasn’t fair for them to be torn apart after they finally became happy together. Upon seeing her breakdown, Cloud decides to steel himself and takes the dose.

 - It is unknown whether or not these mako doses can affect pregnancy, though neither Cloud or Tifa are worried about that right now, at least.

 - For the future though, it doesn’t actually affect their child beyond having their eyes have a faint hint of green.

 - A normal day for Tifa consists of waking up early (5:30-6:00), prepping the bar and making breakfast, waking the kids up at around 7:30, bartending late, and going to bed at around 11:30-12:00, though she may stay up late to talk with Cloud.

 - Cloud's normal day consists of waking up at around 5:30-6:00, usually a few minutes before Tifa, leaving the bar to make deliveries at around 7:30 after helping Tifa out and finalizing his routes, leaving at around 8:00 to take the kids to school before going on his delivery runs, returning home at around 10:00-11:30 pm, and spending the rest of the night with Tifa.

- On weekends, when the bar is closed and Cloud doesn't have any deliveries, they usually spend the day together. Sometimes Tifa does paperwork and handles finances while Cloud plays with the children or does some grocery shopping. Other times, Tifa is the one spending time with the children while Cloud is outing grabbing more supplies from more dangerous places though he's always back in a few hours. On days where Barret takes the kids away, Tifa and Cloud either cuddle, "cuddle," talk, go out, or watch a movie.

[axgmented]

“I have too much I want to say.”

@meteodrives

she thinks the whirring of the blades is from Reno's chopper overhead, but she hears the way he snorts those fingers out of his nose as he carries a slum brat in his arms. Rem doesn't even realise she's barked a laugh, watching her lanky-legged mentor book it across the street with the kid hiked up under his arm now; he's never going to live this down when the dust has settled. Poor kid probably tried to shove his fingers up to his brain and was disappointed when there wasn't anything there to stop those curious digits.

Those Shadow Creepers snarled, three of them creating a din of snapping jaws and glistening teeth but there's a voice that cuts through all of that terrifying noise. It's calling Tifa's name, obvious panic and worry for the mother figure in his life. Denzel's on the heels of his feet, a hand shaking the fallen woman and Rem unloads nearly a whole clip into the closest creature. Her teeth flash, fangs gleaming and a hiss slithering through clenched ivories. Boots push off the concrete, rushing the creatures before intercepting the running boy. Denzel, you little brat.

"tha' fuck ya' think'n kid!?"

she huffs at him, hand pressed against his lower back before there's a roar of gunfire-- she ducks her head and holsters Apollo, freeing up her hand and cradling the back of the boys head, pressing it into the crook of her neck before rounding on the source of the bullets with eyes glowing blue and pupils thin as paper. She starts to scream at the bear of a man, to scold him for being so reckless but Tifa's pushing herself up from the concrete and Rem feels relief in both of their chests. He latches those scrawny legs around her hips and the silverette has to be careful of how hard she holds him: she'd never forgive herself if she broke his ribs.

She weaves through the crowd, past the creatures materialising out of the shadows and the new arrivals of their team. She knows so few of them; the country accent of the pilot, the one who owned the chopper blades she heard earlier, and the white rose-- she spares Yuffie a wink, setting Denzel down by Tifa's side with careful ministrations. her hand ruffles his hair, knuckles digging in with a bit of force before he's swatting at her hand and whining that it hurt. Good, maybe he'd think twice about running towards a fucking goliath of a monster.

" i have too much i want to say ."

Tifa's voice breathes out, her hands coming to Denzel's shoulders, to his cheek as she kneels down to inspect him. She's asking him soft questions in that motherly tone, the one that makes Rem's skin crawl because she's never known kindness, care, or worry like the type Tifa's displaying now. She takes a half step back, nearly bumping into Vincent as he asks where he can get a phone. Rem nearly squeals from fright, adjusting her footing and bouncing around his stalking figure before grabbing Nyx from her holster and unloading a few rounds in a spry-looking creeper. She shoots the ex-Turk a glare at his caped back before Tifa glances at her, smothering a smile.

" tell me later, Ma. Ov'r a drink. "

she winks, but the playful looks are gone before both women tense; more creepers converge and Tifa handles them with that brawler grace she's honed over the years. Rem can't help the swell of pride that crests in her chest-- Tifa would have made one hell of a turk. Her fingertips tingle and Rem aims a shot of thundaga at one of the creepers, watching it explode into writhing shadows. Her hair stands on end before relaxing against her back after the attack, cheeks flushed and there's an explosion that knocks the Turk off of her feet. Rem rides the momentum and collides with Tifa, wrapping her little self around the woman and takes the fall to the ground, back burning from the landing. She's going to need a new blazer after this.

Her ribs ache, dust filling her mouth as she coughs; her gaze flickers towards Denzel, just as a sword eviscerates the three beats that were closing in on her unofficial little brother. Her hands tighten around Tifa, out of worry, before she recognises the rumble of a motorcycle. Her skull cracks back against the concrete with a hysterical laugh. She lets Tifa go, hands sliding off of her hips before her palms tingle so she rests them flat on the ground before pushing herself up alongside the bartender.

" i got a bit i wanna say on m'own. like issa' 'bout fuck'n time! "

she hollers the last part of her sentence towards the blonde pulling up, tongue licking over her canines like a feral dog. Now, it was getting interesting.

[othercrossee]

Denzel ch16 rewrite ramblingggg

So Belph attacked Denzel and they passed out, talking to Lilith. While Lilith is telling them the story and saying she'll help them, Denzel asked if she can also give them their memories back. They're amnesic the moment they came here, that if they died they hope to die with the memories they've made.

Denzel awakens in Mammon's arms, and he's just bawling his fucking eyes out yelling their name, and they're like “chief I'm good, stop crying…your tears are all over my face.” and Belph is like real fucking surprised like no human could live through that!! And Denzel just switched to their demon form and goes “Yeah because I'm not a human bozo.” < friendly reminder that Denzel stay silly even through such times….

At that point, everyone's like questioning shit and Belphs like no way!! While still trying to attack Denzel, but It's immediately deflect by magic made by......a sorceress. Adithya is at the door waving their wand around saying hi, Diavolo is behind them now further explaining shit. He's like so this dude is Lilith descendant, which made everyone even more confused like wdym Lilith descendant is a damn demon.

And now Adithya is explaining shit, like so basically this mfs dad was the god son of Lilith's descendant, so technically they'd count even if their mom is a demon. Also, yeah I designed their demon outfit, cool right? Sorry I didn't say shit, but that's the Adithya business promise.

So they calmed down and shit whatever and Belph is crying, but Denzel do not care, but they're like anyway where's my apology and Belph DO NAWWWT want to apologize for shit. But Denzel is literally bleeding from their nose and mouth, and they do not care if he's venting like uhhh don't care, my apology tonight or tomorrow? And he's just grumpily while still ugly crying says,,,, tomorrow,,,

That night they didn't actually hold a celebration cause Belph is a mess and Denzel is literally THAT close to passing out again. But, Denzel did stay with Mammon that night and yeah they did pass out coldd, and he's just watching over them.

Mammon is thinking about the conversation they had days before, how Denzel told him that they're clearly amnesic and hopefully get their memories back. They feel, with the way their muscle memory works, it seems they had quite the life. (being able to do many works effortlessly like they've done them before, and rather masterfully too)

He didn't tell them during the time, but they could tell he was rather, scared that if they get their memories back they won't 'love' him anymore. That their amnesia is what blinded them into loving him, that they didn't have any choice, that he essentially pushed them into loving him, and if they had their memories back, surely things will change.

They told him that their life here in Devildom, they themself won't change when their memories are back because they are VERY confident in their individuality, and he shouldn't worry too much. Of course, he responded with, “Worry about what?! I'm not worried about anything!” he is, he's worried that Denzel in their full glory can't love him the same way, he thinks this is bullshit, and he should be happy with whatever happens in the future

Now he's just talking to himself, he's talking to them….he's talking about the conversation. How they were right, he was worried alright, and now it's a reality. They have their memories, he's unsure and for once in a long while, he felt horrible for his selfishness, he feels horrible that his greed would want them to remain amnesic. He feels horrible because their happiness was apparent when their memories came back.

“You're so bad at hiding what you feel.” Denzel woke up groggily as hell, a bit mad even that his crying woke them up. He hurriedly wiped away his tears but even through the dim lighting, Denzel could easily see how red his face was, his eyes glimmer in the soft light looking at them, it makes their heart tighten. Mammon is acting tough, acting like they didn't wake up to him sobbing.......that he didn't just cry two times now about them.

He's now beside them in bed, beckoning them to go back to bed. Denzel is trying to talk to him, he's pretending to be asleep, but Denzel continues to talk. “It's nice to be worried about, ya know? I feel flattered that you care about me that much, but it saddens me that you feel this burdened about me, too. ” Denzel continues to talk, they didn't care if he wasn't listening, they just need to let it out. But Mammon is bothered too by what they're saying, It's pissing him off they're putting words in his mouth, they both are. How they both hated being second guessed and spoken for like this.

They're arguing back and forth, apologizing and talking about their feelings with both anger and concern. Denzel ended up laughing, this was so childish, they hated whenever the relationship between them feels tense. Mammon is being the usual Mammon, he's saying shit, and he's acting tough, but Denzel is just so happy.

“Look at us bickering, see? Nothing has changed, Mammon, don't doubt me like that ever again.” they pulled him down, crashing into the bed laughing, pulling him in for a tight hug. He can't be mad, their laugh was something he enjoys, he cannot believe a few hours ago it felt like he could never hear it ever again. He returns their hug with a tight squeeze back, whispering into their neck. “Then don't scare me like that, ever again…please. ”

[kiri-cuts]

A midlife crisis nightclub fight in “John Wick: Chapter 4″

In 1974, Charles Bronson played a middle-aged architect out for revenge against the no-good’uns who killed his wife and raped his daughter in “Death Wish.” Over several sequels, Bronson’s character utilizes his keen building design skills by “redesigning” the status of some very bad men -- from living to dead. He’s a good man pulled into the maze of this poorly planned apartment block called life. To make it out alive, he must face riddles that only his dimming masculinity and his trusty firearms can answer.

Since then, of course, this general narrative has become the saving grace for ageing male actors in Hollywood looking to redefine and reclaim their masculinity on screen. Beginning with the great success of “Taken” in 2008, older actors like Liam Neeson, Sylvester Stallone, Nicholas Cage, John Travolta, Bruce Willis, Denzel Washington, and Gerard Butler all starred in at least one, if not several, movies wherein they played characters who were pulled back into the violent lifestyle they had once abandoned to become a good family man. The reason usually involved some variation on a beloved woman being sex trafficked, raped, killed, or all three. 

Rest assured, though their women are still dead or deeply traumatised, these men always rediscover their masculinity by the film’s end, having grabbed a handful of their own junk with one hand and a firm fistful of justice with the other.  These are films about hard-done-by men who have lost the women in their lives — in both figurative and literal ways usually — and who can only rediscover and reclaim their long-lost manhood via their ancient fighting skills.  

When “John Wick” arrived in 2014, it felt fresh. Sure, John’s wife dies. But her death doesn’t have any less impact on him or value to the story just because she wasn’t mercilessly attacked by a gang of men. Instead, she takes her bow via cancer. Her decision to leave him a puppy suggests she has faith in his power to remain a good man -- to be soft and gentle and kind and to remember to lead with his heart and not with his fists. But god-fucking-dammit, if a cartel doesn’t get in that way of that plan by socking a bullet into Daisy -- the greatest Beagle ever (RIP). What else is a man to do but go on a vengeful rampage?

By the end of “John Wick: Chapter 4″ the body count sacrificed for John’s survival is said to be somewhere in the region of 500 people. Indeed, at the beginning of the film, it becomes clear that the character’s bid for all-out revenge and endurance is starting to impact –- and kill –- the few people left who actually care about him. If he could just swallow his pride, let this shit go, and die, then maybe his pals won’t have to also fight this battle for him.

Alas, John doesn’t agree and –- despite his eagerness to join his wife in the afterlife –- just continues finding inventive ways to turn goons for hire into human confetti. Good for him?

One of the film’s most extravagant set pieces involves a water-soaked melee within a Berlin nightclub. If you’ve ever bitterly choreographed a fight within the cramped confines of the hell-home experiments to be made in any one of “The Sims” games then you’ll be very familiar with the responses given by the attendees of this club. As a neverending queue of Berlin’s best body bait get absolutely walloped by The Baba Yaga –- a man with more lives than Jason Voorhees, for chrissake –- dancers flail their arms timidly or look mildly horrified at the carnage before returning to the groove. 

It’s an apt non-playable-character response for a film that feels so lovingly influenced by games, and this scene in and of itself feels like a particularly magnificent “Street Fighter” or “Streets of Rage” level. But it also feels apt given that the act of fighting is about as synonymous with nightclubs as dancing is. I don’t know how it is where you live, but in the north of England, a fight in a nightclub is just called a Saturday. Or a Thursday, or Friday. Or anyday with a two-for-one offer on Smirnoff Ice. 

It’s also not the first time that John has waged his particular war in a nightclub. He’s swung his fists and slung his bullets within the bisexual lighting to be found in the clubs of the first “John Wick,” as well as in “John Wick: Chapter 2.” Like a man who simply moves on to the next Pop World after he’s been barred from the first, John is a man who knows that the fight is never over so long as there’s a dancefloor with blood to be spilled on. 

I hate to imagine any Keanu Reeves character sat in a Wetherspoons, complaining to an underpaid bartender about how “woke culture” is destroying his life, but it’s easy to foresee such things in his character in “John Wick: Chapter 4.”. He’s stubborn and shortsighted, and unable to hold himself accountable for the mess that continues to follow him from film to film. John just wants to watch the world burn and to hell with these boys who won’t let him light the match. 

In the Berlin nightclub, amongst a swarm of hip, docile young bodies without a care in the world, simply vibing off life, John’s age and particular crisis has never been more highlighted. “Oh, to be carefree,” he says to himself as he crushes another man’s skull with his fists. Snapping another man’s body into an origami of resentment, he, mumbles, “Youth is wasted on the young!” He’s like one of those divorced dads who goes out for one pint after work with the lads from the office and winds up on a 48-hour bender which ends with him losing his phone and falling down the stairs. Which incidentally, John does in this film –- 222 of them, to be exact. And for which I unleashed a cackle no cinema should ever have to hear. 

All of which is to say, John –- I love you. The puppy thing was really sad. Your fight scenes are beautiful and I will never tire of watching them. The bisexual lighting makes your skin look effervescent and delicious like a Sherbert bon-bon made flesh. But know when to quit, son. 

In “Chapter 4,” ol’John’s mid-life crisis ends (spoiler!) with his inevitable death –- a force he fights against accepting, even if it means saving the lives of people he loves. You wonder if maybe his life –- and that of the 500-or-so people killed in the process –- could have been salvaged had he just found solace in another new muscle car, a perky 19-year-old girlfriend, and a few episodes of “The Joe Rogan Experience.” But then, what do I know? I’m probably just a non-playable-character flailing her arms in the nightclub of his narrative. 

[qtipcottonbuds]

𝙑𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎 '𝟮𝟮 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙎𝙀𝘽𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉

a little gift for @bitchb0yb0ng​ <3 n just bagged tickets for denzel curry >:D

chosen prompt ;; “i feel safe with you,” + sebastian

warnings ;; light angst, mild language and comfort, and pining. 

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗦𝗘𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

Fall (unironically) graces it’s presence quicker than expected; the telltale flurries of wind that would normally brush past jeans and jackets now hook into the creases and folds instead, flapping about wildly. Something Sebastian has come to learn to hate. Especially the unpredictable gusts that hit his face the moment he turns a corner, whipping at his hair, dragging back his fringe and leaving him exposed, vulnerable. Both to the harsh air that tints his cheeks a deeper red, and to possible interactions with the rest of the residents.

(Sebby, you should tie your hair back more, look at this handsome face)

Any interactions with anyone besides Abi and Sam, sounded like a shitshow waiting to happen. Whether it’s the assisted pitying looks the minute he’d have to contribute something to the conversation about himself, what he does for a job - the ‘ah, well… that’s, that’s real nice’ - accompanied by the barely held back sigh and less than genuine smile at the fact freelancing isn’t a real job, a proper job; or, maybe, the rest of the residents who have questioned him before, never care to remember his name either.

He’s just ‘Robin’s son,’ to them - but Sebastian to you. (And he likes that, he likes that a awful lot).

Adjusting the tupperware box to rest lightly against the curves of his fingers, clingfilm peeking out from the clipped corners from the hastily wrapped sashimi rolls, the cold eases the plastic hooks to form deep indents in his palms. 

Sebastian wonders whether he should’ve opted for his hoodie instead of the leather jacket for better warmth, it was absolutely freezing; but he briefly recalls on the way Sam had hyped him up, the whole shebang - and if his best friend believed he looked real good, surely you’d think the same, right? - but he quickly shuts the idea down, not ready to handle the slight nervousness that would weigh in at the bottom of his stomach.

Shifting side to side, glancing occasionally at the wooden door, he decides to grin and bear it - (it wouldn’t be too long, just a quick catch up), attempting to shimmy the sleeves further down to cover his hands for security, only before the fabric would retreat upwards once again.

Sheepishly raising his knuckles to the door Sebastian raps against it three times back to back, caught off guard by the immediate, faint call of coming! with soft footfalls following in tandem, the worn door swinging open. 

And, maybe, Sebastian, albeit unsettled by the direct eye contact, his eyes struggling to pull away (and internally concerned about how his face may have looked whilst chewing off his bottom lip) he concludes; he really likes the way you look at him.

(You look at him like he’s worthwhile, is the word he settles for).

Even as you’re standing at the door adorned in a mismatched, stained shirt compared to the bottom pajamas printed with, funnily enough, baby chicklets; one foot occupying a worn sock, and the other bare, curling into the other for warmth. With arms promptly outstretched, gauging whether he felt comfortable to be in close proximity with someone, as he allows you to pull him in gently with one hand taking ahold of the plastic food box; there’s only one thing repeatedly running through Sebastian’s head.

I feel safe with you.

[sanctuary-kingdomhearts]

Sanctuary Chapter III - Story of the Stars

Cloud approached me the next morning, hesitant. I smiled at him, trying to help him feel at ease. It didn’t look like it helped, he flinched ever the slightest.

“(Y/n),” His voice was soft; as if he was approaching a wild animal and trying not to scare them. I wasn’t scared of him. There were things I was scared of, like the dark and being alone, but I wasn’t scared of him. He thought I was though, for some unexplainable reason. Squall said it was from something that happened to Cloud long ago. I respected that, but I did wonder how he came up with such a baseless thought.

The brain doesn’t just make thoughts like that appear out of nowhere, even crazy thoughts have justified reasons through crazy eyes.

“The star festivals coming up, do you wanna learn the dance of constellations?” He finally asked me, I tilted my head.

“Star festival? Didn’t Radiant Garden have a festival right before I got here?” I think back to a month ago, I remember Denzel telling me about how I just missed the spring festival.

Cloud scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah, we did, but this is a different festival.”

“Why have two festivals so close to each other?”

“They’re not. The Spring festival was in March,”

“It’s May though,”

Cloud sighed, “The actual Star festival’s not till June twenty-first.”

He put his hands on his hips and puts his weight on one leg, blowing hair out of his face. He does the last part when he feels awkward or embarrassed, or so I’ve seen. We haven’t spent much quality time together.

It’s like I’m talking to a stranger.

I looked down at my finished bowl of cereal, I didn’t have training today and Cloud wanted to hang out with me, I didn’t see why I should refuse. Especially since I wanted to hang out with him. I didn’t want to be strangers anymore.

I don’t know, maybe dancing would be fun? Personally, I found music much more enjoyable.

I looked back to Cloud, who looked to be growing more and more ansty as I took time to think, “Okay, teach me the dance.”

He looked me in the eyes, “Really? You want to learn it?” Somehow the question didn’t seem to be finished in the way I think he was asking. I think the true question was, “You really want to learn it with me?”

“Yes, I should get used to the customs right? And if it’s a traditional dance then, that's a good place to start,” I reasoned. I don’t know why I didn’t just say I’d be fine doing anything with him, that I just wanted to hang out with him.

Feelings, they’re just too complicated.

I hopped off my chair, bringing my finished bowl of cereal to the sink, barely on my tiptoes I tried to put it in, but Cloud took it from my hands before I dropped it, placing it in the sink for me.

I looked up at him, “Thanks,”

Cloud didn’t say anything back, he just grunted. But then paused, looking down at my face before saying “Your welcome.”

The awkward tension was still in the air, even as we both were trying so hard to clear it.

I walked next to him, as he lead me into the back garden. I didn’t try to hold his hand, as I sometimes did with Leon, simply because I didn’t think that would help. I don’t think we’re quite there yet.

As it is even my smile seems to make Cloud recoil in a weird way, like before when he approached me, part of him looked… sad when he saw me smile.

Cloud, he’s a very weird grown-up.

“Why is the star festival in summer? And so close to the Earth festival?” I asked him, as we made it to the garden. The squared, fenced-off garden with flowers that were only tended to by Aerith when she came over to teach me about them. The grass was taken care of at least, where there was grass. Toys and tools lay around the yard because no one picked up after themselves back here.

“Summer’s the best time to see the stars in Radiant Garden,” Cloud replied. There was a best time to see the stars? In Destiny Islands, the night sky looks the same all year round. “And it’s not the earth festival, it’s the Verdure festival,” Cloud corrected me, but the word verdure came out in an almost snapping tone.

Verdure, the meaning of the word is lush, green vegetation. Makes sense for spring, I suppose.

“Sorry,” Cloud apologized, I didn’t know why, it was my mistake, all he did was correct me.

“No, it was my mistake,” I stood in front of him as he picked a suitable spot in the garden for me to learn the dance.

“That’s not what,” a heavy sigh escaped from him, “Nevermind.”

And we left it at that. But, I wonder what he was going to say, and why Cloud looks even tenser now.

Cloud walked forward, reaching out to grab my hand before pausing. I put my hand in his for him, this man was being too cautious around me, I could feel his nervousness, his hand was cold and gentle like he didn’t want to break mine. He stopped and stood beside me.

He curled his fingers around my hand, holding it and my arm up, he let go of it but kept out palms pressed together, towards the sky.

He put his left foot out, and so did I. The hand that wasn’t holding mine was out, so I put mine out too. We looked like a star or were supposed to, but I was too short so he just kept his hand up as far as I could go, making the position horribly lopsided. More like a star that was supposed to have seven points instead of five.

“This is the position of the Gemini Caeli, they’re the leaders of Radiant Gardens constellations and the second reason we celebrate the star festival in June,” Cloud explained, looking down to my face to see if I understood. As soon as he started talking about the Caeli his face lit up just the slightest, it lit up more as he continued to explain things to me.

He continued, “the Gemini Caeli represent the stars, all constellations, which is why we celebrate all of our constellations when they appear overhead the castle,” he moved our position, breaking apart our hands, and turned himself towards me to face me head-on, I did the same.

He told me to spin three times before continuing, “The Gemini Caeli both have two different stories, depending on where you look in the sky,”

“So how do you tell the difference between the two?” I asked as I spun as he told me to.

“One side of the Gemini has more stars than the other,”

“Ah,”

“Now, there are two sides to the dance, the one you’ll work on will be the female Gemini’s, alright?”

“Alright,” He broke position, coming over to me. I followed his lead, “We’ll work on your side of the dance first and I’ll show you the rest of the dances later.” I nodded, and a half-smile graced Cloud's face.

“The Gemini Caeli were two twins, one female, and one male, raised by the Pater Sapiens they were brought up with light, with good in their hearts. The brother was naive and trusting, the sister was optimistic and faithful,” He recited it as if he’d heard the story a million times. He probably had.

“Guarding them both was the Frevus Eques and the Sol Pondero, who held onto the twins with loyalty.”

“One day, as the sister Gemini snuck out, she encountered the Umbra Bestia attacking the Velit Dominae, she, frightened by this, fought back against the beast, letting the Dominae run free. In the process, she injured herself, for which the Pondero scolded her,” Cloud helped me through the motions of the sister's dance, when I asked he showed me the other constellations dance, leading me along with them too.

“But the Gemini could stop thinking about the Bestia, upon looking into its eyes, she discovered a sadness like hers, the longing to be free,” A far-off look in Cloud's eyes suggested more than he’s ever let on to me. I think this story means more to him than just simply being an old childhood fairytale.

“So, she turned to the Pater Sapiens with a question, he asked another in return, ‘How would you resolve a conflict?’” The dance motions for this part were simple, so simple that Cloud didn’t even have to guide me. Which was strange, something about this dance made me think I had done it before. Though since I was new to Radiant Garden it was obvious I hadn’t.

“Confused by this, she walked away. Consulting the Pondero gave her no answer, so she went to find her brother, who was with the Dominae and Eques. She and the Dominae introduced themselves to the other, but none of them could offer her an answer. Though the Dominae did heal the Gemini sister’s wounds. She thanked her but continued on searching for a clue to the Sapiens question.” The Velit Dominae’s dance was much more complicated, airy, and light, Cloud had to guide me through her feathery off-the-ground moves. Graceful and elegant her dance seemed to be made with the intention of never touching the ground.

“What she stumbled upon instead were the Oblitus Stella and her worried friends, the Stella was dying, and her friends, the Fortis Bellator and the Sola Flamma tried their hardest to stop it. The Gemini quickly became friends with the Stella too, but before long it seemed too late. There was nothing they could do,” The only way I could describe the Stella’s dance was as sad. Slow movements with ballet inspiration, I think.

I imagine that if the stars were out I’d be able to see the stars' positions and find out how this story was crafted based on that, but it was still very-late morning, early afternoon, so I could only imagine for now. It’s a shame though, I would have liked to see how and why they killed a constellation.

“Until the Gemini remembered that the Dominae could heal people as she had done for the Gemini. She sent the Bellator and Flamma to go find the Gemini, and they rushed off to save their friend,” he looked down at his feet for a moment, closing his eyes.

I thought maybe hearing this story his whole life would make him immune to caring about the star's emotions, their desperation. But maybe it was the other way around?

Maybe the story impacted him more because he had heard it his whole life. Or perhaps it was a familiar feeling to him? I don’t know what has happened to Cloud, I don’t know his story. But what I do know made me stop dancing and reach out and grab his hand. He looked at it for a fleeting moment before averting his eyes.

Taking in a breath he continued, “The Bellator encountered the Eques, Gemini, and Dominae, demanding the Dominae come with him, saying there was no time to explain, he pleaded with her to come. The Eques took this as a threat, clashing with the Bellator,” Cloud had me practice the fighting like motions of the dance, lots of twirls and even a flip.

It was the hardest part, Cloud and I spent the most time on it. It was fun though, Cloud helped me flip, backward and forwards, and even helped me learn to cartwheel. I wasn’t very good, but it was a start.

I laughed with him when I feel, and smiled when I succeeded. But every time I did he stopped for a second, sadness flashed in his eyes and he tensed for the slightest second, before returning to how he was before. Like I wouldn’t notice.

Cloud continued on talking after waiting for me to do one last twirl before returning behind me, to guide my movements, “Meanwhile, the Flamma made their way towards the Dominae and watching Gemini, the Flamma begged the Dominae to come with them, to save their friend, saying that the Gemini sister had sent them, and the Dominae had disappeared with the Flamma, Bellator vanishing from the fight too.”

“Disappeared? I didn’t know there was such magic.”

“A few creative liberties were taken here or there, it is a fictional tale.” Cloud chuckled, finding my curiosity funny.

“The Eques and Gemini met together again, waiting for their friend to come home.

The Flamma, Dominae, and Bellator returned to their friends, only to discover they were too late. The Stella had died while they were gone, only leaving one last message with the Gemini that the sister refused to tell, saying she had promised,” I frowned as he told me that.

“She refused to tell? His friend's dying words and she refused to tell?” I asked, my voice going up an octave.

Cloud hummed, “Yes. Remember when I said the sister was faithful? She was faithful in the Oblitus Stella and her promise to the Stella, even when it drove her other friendships apart.”

“That’s sad.” it just came out, and I didn’t sound sad when I said it was, maybe it was because I wasn’t sad, just, something about that faithfulness to a promise had me saying my thoughts. In any case, my voice was the same monotone it always was, and always had been.

“Yeah… It is,” Cloud mumbled. He didn’t look so tense anymore, but there was still this air around him as if he was bothered by something. Was it me? But I thought he liked me, that he was just nervous to try. Was it something I said? I ran through every conversation we had during the last month, and the conversation Cloud and Squall had last night. But nothing would suggest that I did say anything wrong.

“This angered the Bellator, and he lashed out at the Gemini before leaving, sorrow still in his heart. The Flamma followed the Bellator, saddened and lost. As for the Gemini, she finally found her answer to the Pater Sapiens question, storing the ache deep within her heart.” Cloud continued the dance. I tried to copy him where I could. But the moves were harder, more complicated. My little body just couldn’t keep up with Cloud's fluid movements.

“The Dominae stayed with the grieving Gemini for a long while, before the Gemini steeled her resolve, a resolve to follow the Stella’s wish. Carrying the Stella’s remaining sparks she asked a favor of the Dominae, to meet her where they first encountered one another and the Umbra Bestia. The Dominae agreed.” Cloud noticed my struggles and came over again to help me.

“The Eques and Gemini brother waited for their friend, but she never returned. The Eques cursed the skies, saying that the two had stolen her. The Gemini refused to believe that, going to the Sapiens, who asked him a question in return, ‘Who has to be the bad guy?’” I stopped, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Has to be?” I asked. Did anyone have to be bad? I thought that was all perspective.

Cloud looked down at me, his smile still on his face. “We’ll get to that.”

I nodded and let him continue on.

“The Gemini did not understand the question. Returning to the Eques lost, with no answers.

The Eques told him that they must retrieve their friend themselves, preparing for battle. The Gemini followed, not knowing what else to do.” Once I got the hang of the dance once more, Cloud stepped away, showing me the next part.

“The Bellator and Flamma joined the Litigator, who had promised them a way to get their lost friend back. The Bellator believed it with all his heart that it was true, the Flamma was more skeptical but followed not to lose their last friend.” The Flamma followed their friend despite their better judgment? Why? I didn’t understand their thinking.

“The Gemini sister gathered the Sol Pondero and asked him where the Liberum Ventum was, wanting to use its power to free the Umbra Bestia,” A pang went through my heart, something like a longing at the name Ventum. Was it Ventus’ sleeping heart sleeping in Sora? Was I feeling it because we’re so close?

“The Sol Pondero promised to show the Gemini, in exchange that he could fight with her. As her guard, as her friend, he wanted to keep her safe. The sister promised.”

“Lots of promises. Did she keep them all?” I inquired. Surprised, Cloud looked down to meet my eyes.

“Yeah, of course she did.”

I don’t know why, but promises have never stuck well with me. The fact that the Gemini sister was making so many bothered me. It shouldn’t. Cloud looked away from me again.

“Together they found the Liberum Ventum, asking it for the power to free the captured Bestia. It saw the longing for freedom in the Gemini’s heart and gave her the power she needed. It was a matter of time before they were all together again, Dominae, Gemini, Ventum, Stella, and Pondero. They stood ready for the Bestia to come.” Cloud performed the most complicated move all day as the sun slowly began to set behind him. It was beautiful.

“Then what happened? Did it come?” I asked again, this story was intriguing. I hadn’t realized it, but I had been sucked into the story long ago. Heavily immersed.

Cloud chuckled, “Every time someone hears this story for the first time it’s entertaining.”

“Well, I’m certainly entertained,” I jested, turning around to him after doing a guided spin.

“I see that,” Cloud picked me up, balancing me on his waist. Bringing me over to sit on the yard chairs a few feet away.

“What about the rest of the dance?” I questioned as he put me down on a chair.

“It can wait, and we have lots of time to learn every part,” Cloud smiled again, it seemed he was finally comfortable around me, which made me smile too.

“Then tell me the rest of the story.” I leaned forward in my seat, looking at him expectantly.

“I will,” He waved his hand in a motion as if to get me to calm down, teasing me, “Calm down.”

“And it did, with orders from the Litigator it attacked, not without help, from within the shadows awaited the Bellator and out in the open was the Flamma. The Pondero engaged in combat with the Flamma, while the Gemini stood tall, calling on the power of the Ventum to free the Beastia, harnessing the Stella to clear the Litigator's control for good. The Bestia fell to the ground, being caught by the Gemini,” A piercing pain went through my heart and I flinched, Cloud didn’t seem to notice.

“The Bellator saw the display of the Stella’s sparks, felt her power, and grew enraged. Going to attack the sister Gemini. The brother Gemini appeared, protecting his sister. The Eques helping the Pondero. They battled as the Gemini sister and Dominae tended to the defeated Bestia. Once it was healed enough, it spoke, spoke of the lies of the Litigator.” I sympathized with it, the Beastia. To be controlled without any way to free yourself, having to rely on others, must be incredibly hard.

I can only imagine how many calls for help it cried. How many went unanswered. I shook it off, it was just a story.

“The Gemini listened, rising to her feet she yelled into the battlefield the Bestia’s words and the promise she made to the Stella, that she would protect her friends. The battle stopped as the stars listened to her cries. All gathering together. And then, the Litigator appeared, out of allies and weapons. He could no longer control the Bestia, and thus could no longer achieve his goals,”

“The Brother asked him a simple question, ‘Why?’ His response was as simple as the question, ‘To see my friends again,’”

“Friends?” I whispered to myself, bringing a hand to my chest. At my side Cloud gave me a quick glance. Ultimately deciding not to comment on it.

“The stars understood the Litigator' pain, but what do they do now? The Litigator was bad and needed to be punished. The Pater Sapiens appeared at that moment, asking the Gemini twins the answers to his question.

“And they answered, ‘No one,’ And, ‘A way that makes sure no one suffers anymore than they had.’”

“Good answers.”

Cloud chuckled, “I thought so too.”

He cleared his throat. “The Sapiens helped the Litigator up, taking the Litoigators hand in his own, then taking the Gemini’s hand, who in turn took their sibling Gemini in their hand, this continued, until finally, they formed the Tela Veritatis. Finally marking the end of that story.”

“That story?”

“Over the generations, there have been a lot of different tales,” Cloud shrugged, “Can’t remember them all, but if you want to know more I’ll find them.”

“I’d like that.” I smiled, it was big, the biggest I think I’ve ever smiled, even bigger than those when I was around Sora. Cloud smiled too. There was a warmth in his eyes and he sighed happily.

Now’s as good a time as any to ask him about why he’s been acting so weird all day, even as he tried to grow closer to me.

“Cloud?” I asked, my tone vulnerable and hesitant.

He gave me his full, undivided attention, and I squirmed just a little in my seat, “...It’s been bothering me all day, but every time I smile you tense up like I’m hurting you. Did I do something wrong?”

I paused before adding, “Is this why you were avoiding me?” I already had my answer from last night, but that didn’t seem to be the whole story.

He stayed silent for a moment, thinking. I sat there quietly, trying to avoid even moving.

And finally, he spoke.

“It never hits your eyes, that’s why.”

“Huh?” I inquired dumbly, did I hear him right? What doesn’t reach my eyes?

Mako blue eyes met my (e/c) ones, his eyes burst with energy and life. I wonder what mine looks like to him.

“That's the first smile that's made your eyes light up like that,” He looked away from me, “The first expression at all, actually,” he mumbled, I heard him clearly though.

The first expression to light up my eyes? I had nothing to say to that, except the question floating in my mind. If other people saw this, like Squall and Denzel, what did it look like to them?

How did they interpret this? Because it seems as if Cloud has a problem with it.

Mom had said something about my expressions once, and she was always trying to get me to smile when Sora wasn’t around. I heard her talking about them with Riku’s mom once, but I brushed their worries off since I was fine.

Was this something so obvious and I couldn’t see it? I felt fine, I am fine. Is there something wrong with me? Without realizing it I had put my hand up near my left eye.

Cloud took my hand from its hovering over my face, holding it in his as he set it down on my lap. “I just," He paused, thinking about what he was going to say. "didn’t want to make it worse. Cause I’ve seen those eyes, in you, in Denzel, in me, and I somehow always manage to make them worse.” He wasn’t looking me in the eyes, anywhere but, but it still felt genuine. More so, even.

I paused, contemplating what he said. eyes that don’t reflect expressions. Denzel had those eyes? Cloud too.

But they do now, so this had to be fixable, right? I didn’t want to go around the rest of my life with eyes like that, which drove Cloud away from me and could hurt and worry others around me, like my mother.

“...There is a way to fix it, right?”

Cloud looked back to me, giving me a small, weak smile, “Yeah, of course, there is.”

I looked down to his hand which still held my tiny one, hesitant to ask, I did anyway, “Will you help me find it?”

“Of course,” Cloud stood up, “But let's start tomorrow, it’s getting late.” He motioned with his free hand to the setting sun. It was pretty, a mixture of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was almost down now, I couldn't even see the glowing yellow orb anymore.

I tugged on his hand, “Can we stay out a little longer? I wanna see the stars.”

Cloud snorted, “Sure kid, whatever you want.”

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

“Thunder!” I cast the spell and as soon as I felt the massive amount of energy release from me I flew back, keyblade pulling me backward.

I groaned, soothing my head as I landed on the floor. That… wasn’t a great landing. I get up, stretching before grabbing my keyblade, the silver handle and golden blade shone with excess energy build up.

“That was better than before,” Master stated. I groaned again, this had been my seventh time casting thunder, I was just too small to keep standing as all the energy released from my blade, my magic, according to master, was perfect.

I wish I would just grow a couple of inches, or maybe develop more muscle, though considering I’ve been working with the blade for months now, without any muscle in sight, I guess it’s not in my genes.

I ready myself to cast it once more before master put his hand up, “I believe that's enough for today.” I relaxed, my keyblade turning into sparks and glimmers.

“Alright,” for the first time, I think I might be glad that practice is over, I don’t want to keep getting blasted into the wall over and over again.

I grabbed my water bottle, popping open the cap, and sitting down on the grass, drinking whatever water is left in it.

“Master,” I started after I was done, wiping my chin for droplets that came out.

“Yes?” The older man does not sit, instead, he stands as I rummage through my backpack, putting away my water bottle and pulling out my notebook, flipping to the pages me and Cloud worked on together.

“Remember when I told you that me and Cloud bonded? When we looked at the stars?” I asked him excitedly.

He chuckled, the sound resonating from his chest, “Yes, I remember.”

I hand the notebook to him, “I mentioned how the story behind the stars would make a good song, because back in Destiny Islands we use to make songs for everything, and Cloud agreed with me, so he and I have been making music together!”

“Really?” Master took the notebook from me, and I waited to see what he would say. He read over it before looking back to me, a fond smile on his face as he returned it, ruffling my hair. “It’s very good, (Y/n).”

I smiled too, “Thanks, master.”

“I'm glad you're getting along well with your new family.”

“I'm glad too.” I was sure that this time when I smiled, it hit my eyes.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

BONUS/EXTRA/APOLOGY/STILLPARTOFTHECHAPTERANDCANNONBUTILIKEDTHEENDPOINTOFTHATLASTSCENETO:

“Oh, so the reason the Pater Spaiens isn’t shown much is because the actual constellations so small?”

“Yeah, and the one next to it is the Oblitus Stella, the formation that looks like a giant star? It always looks like it’s close to twinkling out, people always thought it was,”

“I see,”

“Sometimes, people will call the star La Lux.”

“Why?”

“They want to believe it’ll shine one day.”

“Well, won’t it?”

“Maybe.”

I looked towards all the stars, the Tela Veritatis looked as if it was giving the other constellations a hug, or perhaps protection. It was a beautiful sight.

“It would make a great song,” I whispered into the air.

“Hm?” Cloud hummed.

“It would make a great song, the constellation’s story,” Cloud had told me that there wasn’t a song to go along with the story, that no vocal song existed for it.

“Well, if you want, we can make one.”

“I think that would be nice. Let’s do it.”

“Alright.”

Constellation Chart -

January - Velit Dominae

February - Umbra Bestia

March - Liberum Ventum

April - Pater Sapiens

May - Oblitus Stella

June - Gemini Caeli

July - Sola Flamma

August - Sol Pondero

September - Fervus Eques

October - Fortis Bellator

November - Bestia Litigator

December - Tela Veritatis

Cannon Fact of the Day - Cloud, Squall, and Y/n all have the same blood type.

Author's Note

Hi Everyone! It's Rewrite-Central giving you the author's note today, as I wrote the chapter. Sorry for the delays but we wanted to give you our best. We actually had a portable version two weeks ago but due to looking it over and recent constructive criticism we decided to do a complete once over and I think the final story for the constellations turned out better. Though personally, I'm too tired to tell if it helped Cloud and Y/n's relationship better than the original chapter. Lol.

Next week's chapter will probably be written by Shame, as I need a break. Another thing slowing this chapter down was the end of the semester for all of us, which was not very nice.

Anyway, enjoy the newest chapter and hopefully, we'll have chapters coming out more on time and not a month after they should've. Lol.

[im-totally-not-an-alien]

Final Fantasy 7 prompts #75 (FINAL LIST)

1. Iflana does not trust Cloud, not one bit. She can sense the calamity inside him and wants him to leave. Too bad both her husband and daughter seem enraptured by his very existence. Her husband rambling on about his mutated and 'safer' J-cells, as if that thing could ever be considered safe. Then it was her daughter, who seemed to take him in, as though he was no more than an injured bird needing treatment.

This thing would be the death of them. She just knew it.

2. "In my world its pretty rare for monsters to talk."

The large gray rabbit riding on his head paused to consider this, "Maybe they're just stupid?"

"Duh. They're basically wild animals. They're not really like you Loppy."

"Lopmon." The bunny creature corrected. Again.

Aka Cloud wakes up in the digital world as a twelve year old and has to find his friends...with the help of his partner digimon of course.

3. Genesis used to think mermaids were one of the most beautiful creatures in Ancient lore...until he saw a blond one swallow a fish whole. He wasn't so sure after that.

4. Au where Cloud and the remnants are escaped expiraments from a non-Shinra lab. They travel to Midgar and become mercenaries.

One of them winds up being captured, prompting the other three to rescue them, but they're otherwise preoccupied by normal human things they never got to experience. Loz loves donuts and other sweets, Yazoo adores taking long hot bathes, and Kadaj always seems to have headphones on, etc.

The holy trinity are shocked when the four don't recognize Sephiroth. Genesis also nearly has a heart attack when he catches them roasting a doomrat over an open flame. "You're not actually going to eat that, are you?"

5. Hojos alarm was triggered at three in the morning. Usually this wouldn't be an issue, creatures attempted to escape Shinras (and by extention his) clutches on a regular basis. They were usually recaptured or destroyed within the hour.

What was strange was the fact that this was Jenovas alarm. His goddess tended to not move much beyond bobbing up and down in her tank.

Upon checking the security feed, he witnessed something infuriating. A blond man was holding an armful of wildflowers and bossing around three silver haired teens as they dismantled her shrine and stole her away. Jenova herself seemed...interested? Approving? He wasn't sure, but it looked like she was cooing at them. Further analysis was required.

6. Time travel au, but the whole thing is from Hojos perspective and he suffers

7. Cloud and Reeve were having a discussion about Clouds Jenova abilities and why he never used them, which eventually lead Cloud to picking up a pebble and stating, "Its not like a can just force some of my life energy into a rock and make it a planet"

And then he did. Tfw

8. High fantasy, no materia au.

Magic is rarely seen in humans, rather a tool used by monsters. On the day Clouds mother is murdered his abilities awaken, creating a powerful snowstorm that ripped the town of Nebilhiem apart.

Ten years later and the storm rages on, having grown to cover nearly the entirety of the mountain, rendering communication with nearby kingdoms difficult and travel impossible.

The famed General Rhapsodous is sent to slay whatever great beast is causing this catastrophe. When he is faced with a young man living up there in complete isolation, he chooses to stay with the mysterious man until he can locate the monster.

What will become of Cloud once Genesis discovers the truth? After all, a witch is considered a form of monster.

9. "I should have just remained a puppet!"

Genesis mulled over the words as though they alone could unravel the mystery that is Strife.

Some part of the redhead felt a little bad about using the strange man's emotional outburst against him, but things were getting desperate...

10. Time traveler au where Genesis dresses in drag to save this "Tifa" girl from the Don. He then tries to get her to go to Shinra for questioning and is punched for his efforts

11. Cloud is thrown into a world where he never existed and Shinra still reigns supreme. Worse, he has no memory of who he is or how he got there (cause Jenova destroyed them). He only has his bike and his sword and begins traveling to find a purpose, all while avoiding Shinras detection.

He often stops at inns and rest stops and often sees the same group of people. The large man with a gun arm grew suspicious from seeing him everywhere they went.

___________________________

"Go away."

The knocking came again. "I know you're in there blondie." A gruff voice replied.

"I'm not gay."

The man on the other side of the door began sputtering. "Look," another voice began, "We just need to talk."

"Yeah. Sure. Talk." He said flatly. "In the middle of the night." He went over to the door anyway. Opening it revealed the man with a gun arm and another man with wild black hair.

"Zack?" The blond blurted, startled. What was one of Shinras Supreme doing out here?!

"You remember me!" The man beamed, "SOLDIER First Class Zack Fair, at your service! Now the real question!"

The man leaned down a bit to the mysterious blonds level, "Who are you?"

12. "Can you do it?" The softness of Denzels voice seemed to make the situation all the more horrifying. "Can you kill me?" Eerie mako green eyes stared up at where Cloud stood frozen.

Denzel pulled a knife from the block, "Or will your son kill you?"

Aka Seph plays mind games by possessing the kids from Advent Children and using them to torment Cloud and make him look like a lunatic

13. Cloud gets sent back in time/ alternate reality, ect. but gets turned into a white materia. He's careful not to roll around while people are looking, but that doesn't stop people from saying, "Hey, look! A materia! " and picking him up. He has no real power...other than apparently soothing anyone/anything he comes into contact with.

Strangely, he keeps getting slotted into bracers (among other things) regularly. Ya'll, he's so annoyed.

14. There were two of him. Two Sephiroths. The blond began regulating his breathing, desperately trying to ward off an ensuing panic attack. He wouldn't stand a chance if they decided to work together.

Luckily, one insulted the other and thus a catfight of epic proportions began, all while Cloud had a panic attack in some long forgotten closet.

15. Au where child Sephiroth overhears a scientist talking about her 'prayers being answered' and he asks her what that meant. After a brief explanation, he later prays to anyone who can hear him to get him out of the labs and/or away from Hojo.

It works.

Bonus: Cloud and Sephiroth were fighting again in the Midgar desert when Sephiroth slashed the air, creating a portal. He had intended to use it to appear behind his puppet and impale him again, but the blond rushed forward and slashed through the portal with his own sword, expecting the portal to disappear as he sailed through were it once was.

Unfortunately, it was still very much there. Just...different. Cloud wasn't given the chance to properly examine it before the feeling of being plunged into ice water overwhelmed him and he was spat out on the other side.

It was another desert, but not like the one he left. He could feel no life here. No plants, no animals, no...no lifestream. The only thing around is another version of him. One that was used and abandoned by the Sephiroth of this world.

The other blond stared at him in confusion, wielding twin sabers in a defensive position.

[insxmonium]

Strange how things had wound up. Everything felt so vaguely interconnected; he knew that there were often greater powers at work than they could grasp- and that was a fact about their world he hated. Fate. Destiny. Unchanging time. It was cruel in a lot of ways. Cruel for Denzel, too. The world was not for people like them, softer beings who didn't wear the scars of war or loss well; they both should've led gentler lives. In another life perhaps he'd been a pianist, and Denzel would've been already planning for a higher education. Caring was always hard after one had experienced hardship. The kind they'd held destroyed weakness and left behind stronger foundations, the kind that needed to be shaken, and chipped away at to get to the softness it protected beneath. He didn't need promises. All he needed was for his son to know he wasn't about to abandon him through death or otherwise. "I know... that's why I want you to know I'm here. Even if you don't understand why it's affecting you that way." He lets out a breath, a knowing expression, "Yeah... every day, kiddo. You think stuff is normal until you open up about it... and then you realize it really wasn't. I think that's how it winds up for us when we're little and don't get what's going on around us."

He listens, doing his best to absorb what he's saying, consider it, turn it over in his mind like well worn stone. "I see... so..." He trails off, thinking, must've been Reeve who had tried to get them out... he was a good man, one that always looked out for his teams, even if it meant he might have to pay the price later. It made him a good leader, even if they didn't always see eye to eye. "Sounds like they worked with Reeve." He comments aloud finally, and then he frowns; He can tell how this boy thinks to a degree, they shared much in common, including being far too young and far too jaded for their respective ages. Cloud had tempered his with kindness and compassion; but Denzel was a child, and he was learning, it would take time before he could come to the same conclusions. If he came to them at all. His expression shifts, the smile he wears has a hint of sorrow to it; it's something he would've said when he was younger too. He's right, of course, but that directness isn't always necessary in the moment to shield one's self from vulnerability. "Yeah... that's true... but what's important is how you choose to react to it. Apathy is easy, caring is a lot harder, and a sometimes, more painful. I know it's not me, kiddo. I know."

He takes in a breath, "I want you to... feel like you can talk to me if things come up. Whatever is on your mind... I know you're afraid of losing people. You've lost a lot... but give me a little credit? I'm tougher than I look."

[ampedupkaon]

August Writing Challenge Day 22: Gowther/Nadja

AN: This one takes place 45 years in the past. Gowther has been helping Nadja for a while now; but they haven't kissed yet.

“What is wrong, Nadja?” Gowther asked. The purple haired woman he found himself quite fond of looked rather nervous when she'd come running in to his room.

“Don't laugh.” He was confused by the comment.

“I would not laugh at you, Nadja.”

“My younger brothers might.” Gowther repeated his proclamation and she told him what was bothering her.

“I had a nightmare. A dragon attacked the castle. I found you, Bartra, Denzel... mother and father... all dead, bodies burnt by the dragon.”

“Why did you come to see me of all of the people who found dead?”

“Because you're the one I see the most, Gowther.” He felt a strange tickle in his chest at her words. It was true; he visited her the most. Which was bad, because surely her brothers should...

“Why do your brothers not visit you?”

“Bartra is next in line to the throne and is learning how to be a good king. He has so many lessons he barely has any time for himself. And Denzel is training to be a Holy Knight and the training wears him out. It would be selfish of me to command their time when they've got so many responsibilities of their own.” She told him, starting to breathe heavily. Gowther guessed she hadn't been breathing properly while telling him all that.

“Do you wish me to accompany you back to bed, Nadja?” Her cheeks flushed, Gowther having no clue why.

“Um... You have to know that a man and a woman have to be... courting before they can be seen going to bed together.”

“I was not suggesting we shared a bed. Though... if you would like we can.” Her cheeks went red.

“No one would see that we had... you are the maid who 'helps me' in the morning after all...” She took hold of his hand and he let himself be led to her room. Nadja looked flustered, but happy.

“Would you like me to hold you, my lady?” He asked, pretending to be Meldor; the character he knew Nadja liked. She giggled at his question, before nodding his head. He scooped her up, earning a small scream of surprise. He carried her bridal style towards the bed, before lowering her down.

“Would my lady like me to undress before we climb into bed?”

“No! It's... a lot for the first time I've shared a bed with someone.” She quickly answered.

“It will be my first time sharing a bed as well, my lady.” She giggled at the little bow he did. He removed his top, knowing that most men slept wearing only their bottoms. Nadja appeared a little flustered.

“Does it bother you that I'm like this, my lady?”

“You look... very nice.” Gowther grinned.

“Thank you. You flatter me.” She giggled, his words making the blush fade.

“Gowther, get into bed.” He did so, getting comfortable at the other side of the bed from her.

“Um... when two people share a bed... they usually do it to cuddle.” He knew what cuddling was. He also knew that suggested a romantic relationship between the man and the woman. He did like Nadja, but was unsure if it was romantic yet.

“Shall we cuddle?” She shuffled closer and he did the same. Her arms slid around him and he copied, carefully squeezing; frightened of squeezing too tight. She sighed in pleasure.

“This feels nicer than I thought it would.”

“I will keep the nightmares away, my lady. And if my presence is not enough to frighten them... then I shall be here when you wake up to comfort you.” She made an 'aw' noise; as though he was being cute. Cute was something he didn't quite understand. A puppy was cute. A baby was cute too, though Gowther didn't understand how. Men typically didn't like being called cute. He didn't care; 'cute' was a nice word and it felt nice when Nadja called him it.

“Thank you, Gowther.” She told him, a soft smile crossing his face at the words.

“Sweet dreams, my lady.” He closed his eyes, fully aware he didn't need to sleep, but knowing she needed to think he was asleep.

“Sweet dreams, Gowther.” She whispered, sounding a lot calmer. Her heart rate had slowed down too; which was good. It had been going too quickly before; that much he did know. Fear made people's hearts race. She was calm now; contentedly sleeping in his arms. Gowther let his mind switch off for a while, as content in her arms as she was in his.

AN: Nadja wakes up first, and swears him to secrecy from everyone. Gowther nods in understanding and agreement; telling her he doesn't care if other people find out he has slept with her. Her cheeks go crimson at the way he put it and it has to be explained to him about certain euphemisms people use to refer to adult acts.

[magnoliasinbloom]

Lie To Me - 19

AO3 :: Previously

Jamie prays as he has not done so in a long time. He prays on his knees in the hospital’s nondenominational chapel, long enough that there are likely permanent dents in the bone. He lays prostrate on the weathered linoleum, hands held fast in supplication, hands beating at the floor in anger and desperation.

His voice in the empty chapel is rigid with fear and grief. He pleads; he bargains; he threatens; he begs for a miracle out of the lavishness of his God’s grace.

“Dinna leave me, Sassenach. This time I’ll beg. A Dhia, dinna take her from me.”

Dr. Denzell Hunter is listed on a whiteboard as the man responsible for operating on Claire. She had been rushed to the nearest operating room, and it had taken several nurses and a security guard to stop him from going in after her. The threat of being kicked out and banned from the premises had made him acquiesce.

Now, curses mingle with his prayers as he recalls the fabric of Claire’s dress turning almost black with her spilled blood. He vows to destroy the MacKenzie, to strangle Dougal with his own bare hands and watch with fervent glee as the life leaves his eyes.

Jamie had failed, once again, to protect her. That particular thought gnaws at him and will not let him rest. He briefly touches the bright red stains on his white jacket, some already rusted brown; a nurse had offered him clothes from the lost and found to change into, but he had refused. He would wear this until he knew for certain whether Claire lived or died.

Claire.

He struggled to his feet, knees protesting from the hard floor. He stumbles to the nurses’ station near the waiting room, hoping for an update on her condition. Geillis rounds the corner, in surgical scrubs but an incongruous, fully made-up face from the gala.

“Jamie!” She hugs him briefly and takes in the bloody jacket with a gasp. “I came as soon as I heard. The group chat blew up, saying a doctor had been shot outside the museum. I’d hoped it wasna Claire, but…” she trails off and suppresses a sob. “Hunter’s operating, he’s one of the best. She’ll be alright, Jamie.”

“They dinna ken… they havena—” He gestures helplessly towards the board and the nurses’ station and Geillis grips his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Aye. They’ll talk to me, let me see what I can find out.” She whirls away through the doors marked for authorized personnel only. Jamie feels time slog by in fits and starts, minutes dragging on endlessly, and before he knows it, it’s already been three hours since Claire arrived in the ambulance.

Geillis returns and takes him by the arm, dragging him to a secluded corner of the waiting room. “She’s stable, for now. The bullet hit her liver, which is very vascular—meaning there was a lot of blood loss, because it has many blood vessels,” she adds, understanding the look on his face. “But the liver regenerates itself, and she’s received blood transfusions to replace it. She was damned lucky.”

“Not lucky enough, to be with the likes of me,” Jamie whispers, dragging his hands through his hair. Geillis pulls his hands back down roughly, shaking him out of his stupor.

“It verra well could have been you, and I’d be having a different conversation with Claire. Now.” She regards his blood-soaked jacket with distaste. “I’ll take you to the doctors’ lounge, and ye’ll have a shower and change into something less morbid. Ye have to take care of yerself too—do it for her, at least.”

Her words tug at what’s left of Jamie’s heart and he agrees, if only to kill more time while the other half of his soul lies on a cold operating table.

X-x-X

“John Grey is here to see ye, Fraser,” Geillis calls into the lounge where Jamie is tying up the drawstring on the too-short scrubs. He fits the brace back over his hand and comes out to meet John Grey.

Jamie’s first instinct upon seeing the chief inspector is to wrench him into a hug. It catches Grey by surprise, but he is quick to return Jamie’s tight embrace.

“Thank ye, John,” Jamie manages, fisting handfuls of Grey’s shirt in his hands, the struggles of the previous night catching up to him once more. “I dinna ken how to thank ye.”

“No need, Jamie.” Grey pulls away and gestures toward the waiting room. “If you don’t mind, there’s someone here from SCD who would like to take your statement regarding the… incident. I know it’s a lot to ask, with what happened to Ms. Beauchamp, but it’s important to have all our ducks in a row. We’re moving ahead with the legal process, and bringing Leoch down. And I brought Murtagh along as well.”

The thought of seeing his godfather lifts Jamie’s spirits. The waiting room holds an elderly couple and a young man reading a French newspaper, and Murtagh surrounded by a few police officers. He sits and at Grey’s prompting, begins to recount everything that happened. Remembering the moment that Claire was shot makes his voice and hands shake with anger, and he glances at the clock behind the nurses’ station. Almost 3 AM. As he signs the affidavit, he’s suddenly yanked to his feet by Geillis.

“Family for Claire Beauchamp?” A tired-looking surgeon with blue paper booties covering his shoes emerges from the direction where they’d taken Claire.

“Yes, doctor?”

“Are you family?” He has an American accent, odd amongst the Scottish burr he’s accustomed to hear in Glasgow.

Jamie wavers, but Geillis intervenes before he can say the wrong thing. “He’s her fiancé, Dr. Hunter. Jamie Fraser.”

“Very well, Mr. Fraser. Miss Beauchamp is presently in the post-op recovery room. We managed to extract the bullet, and patch up her liver as best we could. The next 48 hours will be critical, as we’ll be watching for infection, but hopefully that won’t be an issue. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to contact me. She was very lucky indeed.” Hunter extends a hand to shake Jamie’s, and he feels a small weight lift off his shoulders.

“Can I see her?”

“We’ll make sure to let you know when she’s in a room. She’ll be sleeping most of the time. And yes, Inspector Grey, I’ll appraise your team when she is in fit condition to talk to you,” Hunter adds, anticipating the officer’s comment.

With a grateful handshake, Jamie watches Dr. Hunter walk away. He drops onto the vinyl couch like a stone, his face in his hands, as the storm within finally gives way to racking sobs.

Alive. Claire’s alive.

X-x-X

Claire is aware of her body before anything else. A dull, throbbing ache laces her right side, and it feels rigid. Bandages, her mind thinks fuzzily. Why am I bandaged?

Her eyes still closed, she tries wiggling her toes. Still there. The feeling traverses up her legs, avoiding her abdomen which she instinctively knows will hurt like bloody hell, and then a fluttering of her fingers. She finds her left hand entrapped and she panics for a second. At this, she struggles to open her eyes. She blinks at the harsh white lighting above her head.

Claire glances down as she feels a warm wetness, and she realizes it’s Jamie. Jamie is crying, kneeling by her bedside. She wishes she could cradle his face and wipe his tears away, but decides it would hurt too much to move. She settles for speaking, after clearing her throat.

“I’ve decided… not to die.” Claire’s voice is soft and rusty from misuse, but it still startles Jamie. He comes out of his reverie to see that her eyes are open, a luminous gold in her white face.

Jamie doesn’t know what to say to that, so he manages a strangled, “Oh, good.”

“I could have. This is… bloody awful.” She winces as she tries to shift her body, but Jamie stops her. He is afraid to touch her further, for fear of hurting her, but can’t bear not to. He lays a hand as lightly as he can on her cheek, finding it cool. No fever; the IV pumping antibiotics into her via the needle in her right arm seems to be working.

“I know,” he says roughly, recalling the weeks spent in hospital healing from his own wounds. Jamie brings her untethered hand to his lips. Her bones feel frail. She hasn’t even the strength to squeeze his hand.

“But I… wouldn’t do that to you.” Already this small interaction is tiring her, and she is out of breath, but it seems important to let him know, that she is here, and she is still fighting. For herself, and for him.

“Thank ye, Sassenach. Truly.” He pushes himself off the floor with a groan, knees stiff and painful. He drags an uncomfortable-looking chair from the corner of the room and sits, still as close as possible to Claire. She looks him over, notices the dark bruises under his eyes and how his hands shake slightly.

“You haven’t slept or eaten, have you?” she asks critically; Jamie ducks his head and she knows she’s right. Claire is mindful of how much energy each word expends. She wants to remain awake, to drink him in, to just be with him, but knows the road to recovery is just beginning. “It won’t do me any good to have you sick, either. Go eat, please, and then get some rest too.”

“I dinna want to—”

“Stubborn Scot.” Claire sighs, and exhaustion wants to pull her under again. “There’s a couch. I’m sure it pulls out.”

Jamie offers a small smile. “What I want right now, Sassenach—I want verra much to kiss ye.”

“Come here, then.” Afraid to hurt her but even more desperate to feel her lips against his, he brushes his mouth in the gentlest kiss.  

“Do ye need anything, Claire? Shall I call the nurse? Geillis has been around, but ye were still out.” Jamie is anxious to leave her, but understands that he cannot run himself ragged; he would be unable to help her recover and be with her.

“No.” Her eyes are already drifting closed, with a combination of what her body endured and the pain medication. “I just need… you. Go. I’ll be… here.”

With a final peck on the lips, Jamie heads for the door. Even though Claire is sleeping again, he makes her a promise, out loud: “You werena the first lass I kissed, but I swear to ye that ye’ll be the last.”

[olivia200312]

Stressed Leader~ RID2015! Optimus x Human! Reader (Lemon) (1/2)

Plot: Optimus arrives back at the base after a big fire rescue mission. He's stressed out due to a lot of work that Y/N decided to relax him~ ;)

This is a lemon! Believe it or not, I came across LITERALLY an NSFW comic of Charbee (Bee x Charlie) of YoukaiYume. I'm not lying! If you want to see the small comic, go to Twitter and look for YoukaiYume. I'm following her since she's an amazing artist! Now, I'm not gonna show the comic since I might get complaints so go to Twitter. After I saw it, I got an inspiration (I'm 17, so keep that in mind). I will change the one-shot here a tiny bit. Enjoy!

Head area:

Brain: Processor / Brain Module

Head: Helm

Face: Face plate

Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials

Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor

Eye brow: Optical Ridge

Eyes: Optics

Mouth: Intake

Lips: Dermas

Teeth: Denta/Dentas

Tongue: Glossa

Chest area:

Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity

Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula

Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut

Chest and back armour:

Chest plate

Back plate

Mid-section plating

Neck guard

Side plating

Arm area:

Arms: Arms / Restarlueus

Forearms: Bitarlueus

Hands: Servos

Fingers: Digits

Arm armour:

Gantlets

Shoulder pads

Arm guard

Lower area:

Pelvis: Pelvis

Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate

Thighs: Tibulen

Calves: Cadulen

Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.

Lower armour:

Skirt plates

Aft plate / Skid plate

Thigh guard

Ankle guard

General/Internal components:

Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question.

Veins: Fual lines

Stomach: Tanks

Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating.

Heart: Spark

Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark

T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.

Bonus:

Penis: Spike

Vagina: Valve

Body: Frame

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

Today was a stressful day for Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots. He apparently got a report that there was a big fire very close to the scrapyard! Optimus got PANICKED. Like, really panicked! His wife, Y/N Prime, was at the scrapyard together with Russel and Denzel! Russel is a small boy while his dad is Denzel. They're good friends with the bots and Y/N. 

Y/N was a young beautiful woman that was married to a mighty handsome leader. They've been together for YEARS! They met each other in Jasper Nevada. The team was known as Team Prime at the time. Very good old times... sometimes sad, depressing, and anger. But mostly were good! The leader and the human fell in love with each other immediately. It was like love at first sight. Romantic, right? 

Now, Optimus doesn't know yet that Y/N, Denzel, and Russel were brought to safety in time. Denzel decided to keep an eye on the bots and wait for their return to tell the news. Russel is a very deep sleep in a bedroom while Y/N took a shower and washed her body. Her hair was 100% fine, so no worries. She wore a loose F/C shirt and... sexy lace panties from Victoria's Secret. The panties were dark blue and red, matching Optimus' colors of his plates (or armor). She decided to wear like why not? But also to secretly tease her husband... 

You may be wondering where they all were now during this whole fire incident? They're at the secret base. No, not from TFP but the base was also kinda like a big massive house! It had to be big because the bots can turn small. Correction: they're close to normal human's height. But they're a tiny bit taller. Surprise, right? But there was also a garage so they can easily get in. A military garage. Y/N and Optimus shared a big bedroom. It also meant that their bed was big too! Y/N was right now sleeping on it, covers not over her.

Optimus transformed along with Bumblebee and his team. He turned towards them. "You all did a good job, today. The Rescue Bots will take care of the problem."

"So, that's all for today?" Sideswipe asked.

"Yes, that's all for today," Bumblebee answered his teammate.

Optimus was about to respond until Denzel opened the door fast with a cup of hot coffee in his hand. "You guys are alright!"

"Are you all alright? Where's Y/N?" Optimus asked worriedly.

"We all are alright. Your wife is sleeping," Denzel said with a smile.

Optimus nodded. He calmed down since his wife was alright. But he's very stressed. He turned to face his team. "I wish you all a good recharge." He immediately walked off. 

"I bet that Optimus was eager to see his wife," Sideswipe smirked.

"I think so too,"  Strongarm said with a smile.

Bumblebee only shook his helm with a smile while rolling his optics. "As Optimus said, get some recharge."

In the bedroom~

Y/N was peacefully sleeping since she's exhausted due to the fire incident. When the Autobots got informed, they immediately contacted the Rescue Bots too and explained everything. Heatwave (he's my favorite bot of the Rescue Bots Academy show) and others arrived fast as they could. They took care of the fire while the Autobots went to find out how the fire started. It was a beautiful day, but it was not a very hot day! The Autobots found the answer fast how it happened. The Decepticons. Apparently, they were trying to kill Y/N, Russel, and Denzel! Let me tell you, Optimus was SUPER mad! Not only him but others too! But the Prime didn't want to lose his wife! Once the Autobots caught some Decepticons, Optimus ripped their sparks out. Man, the whole team didn't saw him THAT mad!

Optimus turned himself small and entered the bedroom quietly. He smiled softly once he saw his wife sleeping peacefully. But he then looks at her body. Her curvy, sexy body. He felt himself getting hard behind the panel cover. He especially has now lust in his optics once he saw the lace panties that matched his colors. He's stressed and he needs to relax.

"Mmmm..." Y/N moaned softly as she felt Optimus gently rubbing her head that moved to her hip, slightly under her loose shirt.

"Hey, sweetspark," Optimus said softly, yet stressed.

Y/N could hear it in his voicebox how stressed he was. She looks over her shoulder and met his gentle yet lust optics. She knew what he wanted. But she decided to play first by teasing him. "You're late, handsome."

He then nuzzled his helm in the crook of her warm, soft neck while his servo was rubbing her hip, seductively. "I apologize, my love."

She then moved so that she was laying on her back with Optimus on top of her. His servo was still on her hip. "You can make it up to me by taking me, Prime. I know that you're stressed.~" She smirked.

Optimus smirked back while his servo went under her panties to rub her clit, causing Y/N to jolt and moan. "A-Ah, Opti- Hphm.~" She got kissed deeply by her lovely handsome husband.

Slowly, her clothes came off so that she's fully naked under Optimus. He couldn't hold it back anymore that his spike broke free. He and Y/N parted from the kiss panting as Y/N gently pushed his spike towards her entrance. "Take me.~"

Optimus smirked.

"Gladly." He then slammed into her, causing her to scream in pleasure as the Prime grunted.

"Y-You're so big and hard!" Y/N moaned.

"You're so slagging wet and tight.~" Optimus grunted and moaned as well. "I want to stay forever inside of you, my dear.~"

Y/N moaned as she enjoyed every second of him, her husband slamming into her each time. He hit her G-spot each time that she saw stars and she even had hearts formed in her eyes! Optimus saw that he chuckled while smirking. His stress was slowly washing away as he's enjoying this sex each second.

"Ahhhh!~" 

"My dear, y-you're so tight!"

"I-I'm cumming!"

"Cum.~"

Y/N moaned loudly as she came together with her lover. His transfluid was warm and sticky that she sighed in bliss. Optimus buried his helm into her neck again and he stayed inside of her for a minute. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck while stroking the back of his helm. When Optimus pulled out, he gently laid his body on top of Y/N, snuggling into her warm soft body. They fell asleep together.

    Enjoy this smut! Since Christmas is coming, I hope that everyone had a wonderful life and were good :). I'll start tomorrow on the Christmas one-shot here and a chapter in My Mates. 

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Soft(ish) Angst Prompt Meme | Open

@chocobohaired​ asked: 12) our muses are in a fight, but cuddle anyway because they don’t like sleeping alone. for Sephiroth of course~

"They can feel however they like, about ShinRa, about the Presidents, Turks, or SOLDIERs. I could care less how they feel. But I will not lie for the sake of delicate sensibilities and claim I did not do my fair share of killing in those wars, nor that the wars were cut and dry absolutely right or wrong.” Sephiroth spoke seemingly calmly, sat up in the lounge chair in their current bedroom, book in hand, as Cloud sat at the foot of their bed, fuming.

“No one’s asking you to sugar-coat, no one would be dumb enough to expect that. But you can be more careful of who you’re talking to, or around! Marlene and Denzel were in earshot, they don’t need to hear that shit, they already understand too much fucked up stuff as it is!”

He looked over his book. “So you want your kids to grow up ignorant?”

“Stop fucking using extremes and have a real talk with me, you ass!”

He shuts his book, setting it aside. “This is a real talk, and those aren’t extremes. They possible realities that I prefer you be aware of for kids you care so much for.”

“They don’t need to be hearing war stories!”

“Should they not learn from mistakes? Shouldn’t all children? Learning from the mistakes of others lessens your own mistakes you’ll end up enduring learning from.” Sephiroth continues.

“Enough!”

“Enough what?”

“Acting like this?”

“What is it, Cloud, realizing the limits to which you can really stomach me...?” Sephiroth suddenly snapped, and with that jab, it was clear how he was seething as well, as it left Cloud glaring, a bit hurt, and silent. Sephiroth’s icy stare stayed upon Cloud’s heated one, until Cloud finally stood.

“...This has nothing to do with that. And you know it. How about you think about in what ways you can stomach me, and what it takes to be with me...huh?” he remarked, and made his way to the bathroom.

The next half hour, Sephiroth sat in silence, just listening to the spray of the shower, thinking over Cloud’s words, the stance he found so foolish, and his own beliefs. He saw no reason to back down. What Cloud was expecting, was for Sephiroth to play down who he was, and what he did; good and bad. And how could he exist in a world that was giving him a new chance at life, if he acts as if his former life never happened? One must stay aware...lest they repeat mistakes.

When Cloud came out, he was dressed down. He turned lights off on his way back to the bed, not looking at Sephiroth as he stopped by the tall lamp by his seat. “Do you still need this for reading...?”

Sephiroth glanced up at Cloud, noticing the down cast face, the annoyance, the hurt, the upset. He just seemed...tired. Sephiroth felt the same. He looked away, and muttered, “No...”

Cloud shut off the light, and climbed into bed, curling into his usual position, however more in a ball than usual. And Sephiroth watched him lying there, noting he was not yet snoring, perhaps too aware of the tension between them that left Sephiroth sitting in the dark doing nothing but thinking in the silence just as he likely was. Sephiroth still felt he had a point. He still felt he’d done the right thing, and Cloud still believed against that.

But Sephiroth would be damned if he let a natural difference of belief and opinion leave them in such a state. He dresses down, having showered before their discussion started, and he climbs into bed as well. He sees how Cloud almost leans back, before stopping himself, and curling in tighter. He tugs the blanket up, to cover them both and free the open space between them. And Sephiroth’s arms wind around Cloud’s waist, over Cloud’s own arms as they curl before his face. He aligns himself behind Cloud, shape curling with him, as he buries his face in blond hair. Cloud is stiff, for only a few minutes, before he grips Sephiroth’s hand, and relaxes into his firm warm, shuddering out the tension. They disagreed, firmly and perhaps a bit passionately. But that couldn’t change one sure fact.

“I love you...Cloud...” Sephiroth mutters against the back of the blonds neck, causing him to shiver faintly, winding their arms together as he hums.

“I love you, too, Sephiroth.”