#you ever think about all they in particular have gone through on the shinra side of the equation. wild.

[johnbly]

Too bad the director’s not around, you know? Elena too. Hope they’re alive… They are.

[nanakithewarrior]

@holyguardian​ || Continued from here.

Even Aerith was beat. Much as she thought herself up-and-go active, life on the road was tough. It wasn’t that she couldn’t handle it — she adapted remarkably well to the terrifying freedom spread out before them. But at the end of the day they were on-the-run from Shinra just as much as they were on-the-chase for answers which meant long days and some long nights too.

Moments of quiet were rare.

While there had been some joy in the victory of securing the sleeping tent, Aerith wasn’t quite ready to retire inside and found some comfort sitting beneath a shady tree instead. It was something so simple and yet she had been deprived of such an act for so much of her life. No trees in Midgar ever dreamed to be so tall or hearty…

Then there was the gentle presence of another. At first he simply sat at her side for the quiet companionship, but slowly, surely, Nanaki melted until he was leaning with his head upon her in restful sleep.

Aerith guided the sweet soul until his head was nestled on her lap and there she very gently scratched her nails through the mane atop his head, hoping to lull him into deeper slumber. He had earned it — and, she suspected, he would find little sleep through the night, ever-alert and vigilant as he was.

He felt unbelievably tired. Nanaki should have expected it, maybe. After a whole year captive and secluded in a cage, returning to the wild had revealed to be a taxing challenge on his body. He was far from returning to his prime conditions, although…

He was not quite the fearful cub he used to be, either. The days where he could just tuck tail and run to anything that made him anxious were long gone. With this group, there was no chance for that. The people on two legs were too slow to leave monsters and threats behind to eat dust like he used to.

Whether he liked it or not, this had become a crash course into learning how to fight. To think that his capture by ShinRa would lead to him finally facing his fears and muster the drive to go into combat, of all things. Would his mother be proud? Would Deneh be proud?

It wasn’t like either of them was there to answer him, even if he asked.

But whether he resented or appreciated the impromptu training, he had to admit there were benefits to travelling with this group. He felt safe, safer than he’d been in a long time. Even when things turned sour, he could trust Cloud and the others to do their part, without leaving him behind. And so, he hadn’t left them behind either.

The Cetra in particular had quickly earned his trust; even before knowing who she was, something about her scent, the way her body language spoke, the calming light in her eyes… it soothed his young nerves. It reminded him of somebody, though he couldn’t quite recall who, right now. It’d come back, surely.

When she nestled his head on her lap, the creature let out a hum of content through his nose. He was ready to sleep like a rock – hopefully not quite as heavy as one on her legs – just like that, the ventricular cords in his trachea vibrated softly with each breath, causing a very low purr to reverberate in the air.

After a little however, the thin ears that had relaxed against the gentle scratch of her hand twitched slightly. His sensible hearing detected an irregular rate in the woman’s heartbeat. It was noticeable enough and just a little concerning for him to take a deep breath through his nose and speak.

“Does it scare you? The outside world.” He asked quietly, his good eye remaining closed for the time being, still enjoying the comfortable position.

He recalled having heard the girl having an exchange with Tifa, commenting how she had never left Midgar as far as she could remember. And he just realized then that this experience had to be as overwhelming for Aerith, as it had been for him to be transported to the iron city away from Cosmo Canyon a year ago. There was a painful pang in his chest then, and the unsettling memories caused the flaming tail down by his side to twitch slightly.

[animus-inspire-archive]

❣ for a caught in the rain kiss // early ScarReeve kiss in the rain HUH

He was still finding his footing in the Executive Board, twenty-two years old and perhaps too idealistic, Reeve nonetheless has found sanctum in the most unlikely of places. His relationship with another young Director across the table should not have come as much shock. Once folks got past the ‘she’d absolutely eat him alive’ assessment, that is. Scarlet was an engineer like him, was one of the few people who could grasp what he thought about, not to mention how he thought about everything. She could even build upon his visions and challenge him past his usual boundary lines, just as he could do the same for her.

And whilst it was true that their creative outputs could not be more different - where he dealt largely with construction, she mostly crafted weapons of destruction - their workstreams nonetheless regularly overlapped. Whether it was for discussions of defense of the main Shinra cities, or the intricacies of lifestream viabilities and its use in both mako and materia production. It had been natural that they had been assigned to work together at times, and work they had. Long, hard days. Sometimes into the mako nights. Theirs was the kind of effort that Reeve would claim not to wish upon his worst enemies but which he actually coveted, for they usually came out of the toil as if born anew; flush with a breakthrough or drenched through with sweat, throats hoarse from all the possibilities.

Yet he was still finding his footing in the Executive Board, and was most definitely not used to this. He is not sure he ever wanted to be. Talk has turned from their standard reporting, the sensical and rational, to the supposedly scientific. But Reeve hears no rigors of scientific merit currently spewing from the mouth of the Professor, as he once again goes over the loss of one of his most precious specimens just two years earlier. Now he is restating his attentions onto a mere child, the daughter.

Hojo sneers, clearly not pleased, but concludes that Aerith is at least worthy enough. In carrying some DNA of the Ancients she is better than nothing and maybe of use as some kind of breeding mare when she is of reproducible age. He drips a fable from his curled lips, a promised land before the President. And President Shinra, despite the fact he used to be an engineer himself and being well aware that the Professor cares little for infinite energy except what is needed to power his own experimentations, laps it up. Aerith is to be found and brought back to Hojo.

Reeve feels nauseous for so many reasons, but his eyes are fixed firmly ahead. Not looking at the Turk Director, nor the woman who has become his lover. He tries to ignore how her tapping - usually their secret, playful code within the meeting - is fracturing desperately out of rhythm. When the meeting ends, the President calls him over to clarfiy some points and by the time they are done, all the other Executives are gone and only Veld remains. The Turk Director accompanies him out of the room and down the corridor, silence hanging over them like the status effect; a straining ‘ ... ‘ lingering in the air. When they reach a particular junction, Reeve whips round on his heels, breaking the hush.

“Where is she?”

Veld shakes his head, “I thought you’d know that better than me, kid.”

“Hellfire and damn it!” Reeve hisses and clenches his hands at his sides, “It’s a child, Veld, a young girl!” He wants to find Scarlet but he is struck into place by the Turk’s almost apathetic cool calm. Felicia would have to be four years old by now? As a man with a daughter, how could he stand there so impassive, not when he knows-

“Reeve.” Veld’s voice cuts through in clear warning not to even go there, and Reeve shudders in spite of himself, exhaling out of his nose sharply.

“’right, okay. Ah get it. Ye’re not bleedin’ psychic.” Accepting bitterness drips from his tone but he still has to fight back the inadvisable impulses that are clamouring up his insides. Veld has already told him that Scarlet did not want to know. She felt it would be safer that way.

Reeve paces then shakes his head again, “I can’t just stand here doing nothing...” He’s already five steps away by the time Veld has said he would text if he hears anything. A grunt is all the Turk Chief gets in reply.

It takes him the better part of remainder of the day to find her. The gloom of a Midgar night falling heavier as the forecasted storm hits right on cue, punctuated only by the occasional burst of lightning and the venting plumes of green high above. Most other nights Reeve would still be in the tower, and if it had been one of the nights he occasionally gives himself off, he would most definitely have remembered his umbrella. He had only just read the meteorological report before the Executive Board meeting after all - a standard safety precaution for Mako reactor functioning.

At this moment in time however, he is drenched through to the bone, all thoughts of umbrellas and work cast aside as blinks through the rain at the scarlet clad figure stood at the building’s ledge. Arms curled in around herself. Over her stomach.

This was a rooftop they had shared a picnic upon, on a day far sunnier than what was streaming down from the heavens right now. Scarlet had pretended she could see Junon, far off into the distance, and had drawn him a remarkable rendition of the coastal town, replete with her Sister Ray dominating the horizon. He had praised her eye for detail and had joked he could secure her a part time position as a junior in the Architectual department.

It takes Reeve far too long to realise why Scarlet was here right now, thoughts of her surprisingly soft laughter and golden hair in the sunshine his predominant memories of that time. But this had also been the place she had first told him of Anya. Her daughter.

He steps forward, not afraid of the height or the shallow distance to the edge upon which they are both standing but instead what might happen if he does or say the wrong thing. Scarlet turns to face him, head tilted slightly up towards the sky. Any moisture from tears indistinguishable from the rain. Reeve cannot think of anything he could possibly say so instead he reaches out and holds her face in his hands, drawing her closer towards him. Pressing his forehead to hers first, he hears a hitched breath escape her still painted lips, her other makeup having all but run off but for certain smudges here and there. Her lashes are thick with moisture, not mascara, and her violet eyes are hazy instead of bright as they look back at him. She looks more lost than he has ever seen.

Still no words come out. Drawing her in by his palms, he presses his mouth against her own. A communication of everything he wants to say, offered up in soft, deseperate movements of lips, like a prayer whispered. His own breath is shaky, as hers is utterly wracked, and the rivulets of the rainwater is spilling in through the gaps. It tastes like his city and the salt of her tears. Reeve swallows it all down, then kisses her once more, folding her tight into his arms against his chest

“I love you, Zaria.” Reeve does not know if Scarlet can even hear him from within protective bracket of his body as the storm still rages overhead, but he whispers it into the night nonetheless, “C’mon. Let’s get you back to Sector 7, inside and dry.” They can deal with the rest afterwards.

Provided they were together, he thinks, they could face anything...

@madamdirectcr

[light-of-judgment]

Zombie AU starter for @oflockhearted

Under the cut because #longlongpost

The fall from grace that accompanied the God of Magic’s defeat at the hands of the Returners was likely sweet relief for the world at large, but it was also relief for the fallen God himself. Defeat meant death and death meant rest. He fell. His tower fell. He was buried underneath the monument to nothingness that had been the symbol of his rage-filled existence and the world was able to breathe.

Residents from the town of Thamasa (descendants of the Magi, who’d built the town 1000 years prior to escape persecution for their magical abilities) partook in a ceremony to seal the tomb of the God, drawing defensive glyphs and performing rites to ensure that he would never awaken again in fear that Kefka truly had become an immortal Divine. Kefka’s defeat signified the disappearance of magic from this world, though the Magi weren’t going to take chances with it. The rest of the people, however, were able to sleep much easier at night knowing he was gone. 

The disappearance of magic may have seemed a good sign to many, especially those that liked to recount the War of the Magic and feared the potential for history to repeat itself. They were loud in their declarations after Kefka’s defeat, as though the existence of a Mad God outweighed the proven good that magic had brought to society. Conveniently, they never spoke of how Kefka had obtained the power in the first place. No one ever did. And overtime, he became a reference parents made to frighten their children or a name uttered to make a scary story that much more threatening. Over generations, he was forgotten, as was the need for magic at all.

What the disappearance of magic actually meant was that he was healing. All of the magic left in the world concentrated into him and slowly, for the world had been leeched dry in his destruction, grew over time while he rested.

Time passed, as it always does, and the world had healed again. The lands were fertile, the water was pure, the people were happy. Magic flourished, though by now the Magi were long gone and had long since stopped bestowing knowledge about their practices to their family. Why would they when there was no magic? That didn’t save them when the day came that someone was looking for it.

The Shinra Power Company of Midgar, a place no one on Kefka’s world would have heard of, had recently built a device capable to bringing them to other worlds. At the head of this project, a man named Hojo, who’s lust for power through experimentation seemed to have no equal. The purpose (and justification) to building such a thing would give them access to nearly limitless resource and possibility for knowledge and they’d begun sending excavation teams to different lands where the data showed the potential was great. This particular world seemed to be overflowing with energy. Hojo wanted the source. 

The team was able to reach the area with the greatest concentration of energy fairly quickly though one or two members hesitated at the sight of the warning glyphs. No one knew what they’d uncover and so, it was decided that they would retrieve the glyphs as well. With that, they began to dig. When they uncovered the pale man wrapped in the massive wings, the sensors they carried shorted out and they knew he was the source of the energy. He looked damaged but untouched by age. He was warm. It was as though he was simply resting. They carried him back to the lab and delivered him to the scientist, who immediately began to run tests on him to figure out exactly what he was and what he was capable of. His body was washed and examined and his blood was drawn. Samples were taken from his nails, hair, and wings. He was locked in a cage like an animal.

Kefka barely remembered any of that happening but he did have flashes of it. He vaguely recalled the feeling of being dragged out from the earth and being bathed in hot water. He struggled but had flashes of a blond man and a scientist arguing loudly about him but he didn’t know what they were saying. He recalled feeling a needle being pressed into him...no...several needles. What had they put inside of him? He remembered the feeling of laying naked in the small cage. But now, when Kefka finally opened his eyes, he felt the cold steel of a table under his back and the tightness of restraints on his wrists. He was drowsy, but aware and he had no idea where he was.

There were voices outside the room that he could just barely make out and he looked to one side to see the large window. There was that blond man again. There was the scientist. Why were they fighting? He grunted, trying to pull from the restraints, trying to break out. When he realized it wasn’t working, he glanced at the two again and saw them both staring at him with wide eyes. They knew he was awake now. Shit. 

Hojo was more than annoyed with Rufus Shinra at this point. The man was simply too much of a coward to see what kind of opportunity they had here and he wanted all kinds of information, that was frankly none of his business, about the experiment before Hojo could proceed. Hojo had discovered that this man...creature...whatever, was a God and the potential that unlocked in his twisted mind was almost more than he could handle. His blood had the potential to completely override their reliance on Mako. His abilities had the potential for weaponization. Hojo would give Shinra what he wanted but not until he understood more. Though now this thing was awake and he needed to proceed. He picked up his table saw and moved to the subject.

“Don’t try to fight it. You’ve been drugged,” he declares to his new plaything as he moves to observe the other. “I suppose I should be bowing in the presence of divinity, but I’m afraid I’m an atheist. Though I must say that I’m absolutely tickled to have someone as legendary as Kefka Palazzo himself to toy with.” He plugged the saw in.

How did-

Kefka stared at this strange man with utter confusion on his face and it was enough to make the scientist laugh. He certainly did enjoy seeing the powerful helpless.

“There will be time enough for questions later, I assure you, my precious Divine. But for now, I’m behind schedule and so looking forward to mounting one of those big wonderful wings in my office once I’m done draining it.” He flips his protective mask down and turns the saw on, the whine of it cutting through the otherwise silent room as the team of assistants stop to observe him. Then Hojo rushes forward and presses the blade to the stem of one of the wings.

White hot pain rushes through the mage and blood begins to spray everywhere as he begins to scream out in blinding pain and fury. Kefka’s fists clench and his eyes roll back. His feathers harden and sharpen like razors and slice through the restraints. Hojo yells for an assistant to hold him down as the saw screeches when it connects with metal and inevitably begins to overheat and die. The God is panting when the cutting finally stops and he looks to either side of him before giving one giant beat of his wings. The razor feathers fly everywhere, stabbing the men around him, seemingly in an effort to make them all drop.

It wasn’t. 

Hojo is laughing at the incident and looks straight at the God, who has a smirk on his face that he just wants to wipe off.

“You think dropping my assistants and guards will stop this? You must not be as-AAHH!” His statement is interrupted as he’s attacked suddenly by one of his assistants, who seemed to be utterly crazed and trying to tear Hojo’s throat open with his teeth. All of the people in the room that had been hit were acting like this. Kefka looks over toward the window again just in time to see the blond man fleeing in a panic. He focuses on the chaos surrounding him breathes deeply, seemingly melding through the restraints to free himself. The last he ever sees of the crazed scientist as he leaves the room, is the sight of him being torn apart by the people he’d once ordered around. 

With the door opened, the creatures run free through the building, attacking anyone in site. Those that manage to get away don’t understand that a scratch or a bite won’t simply heal. They’ll turn soon enough. Kefka walks calmly through the corridors as the alarms blare around him and the people flee, chased by these creatures. It isn’t long before they’re escaping from the building and out into the streets. It only takes a half hour for the alarms in the city to start going off. By the time night falls, Kefka gazes out the windows of the executive suite of Shinra tower and sees the fires being set in the distance and the flashing of gunfire. He’s dressed himself in familiar silks and robes and he’s drinking a large glass of wine.

Perhaps this world would provide entertainment for some time. 

[sadistic-second]

🎡

Reno was on his couch in his office, hands behind his head, eyes closed. Rude was sitting at the redhead’s desk filling out the rest of the paperwork for the day. They were waiting for one other Turk to join them before they headed out for the night. The night was going to be filled with drinks, friends, and parties. Reno felt like he deserved that as a job well done for not crashing the helicopter today. One might not think that a grand achievement, but a casual glance at the Turk’s track record can confirm that he isn’t exactly the best at well. See, the thing here was that Reno was the best. It’s just that sometimes, due to circumstances out of his control, things happen. 

“God, what’s taking her so long?” Reno whined; Elena was late and thus had begun to throw off the whole flow for the night. 

“I’m sure she’s having trouble getting way from Rufus. You know how she sticks to him.”

“Okay, but like. Isn’t that Tseng’s job? Don’t you think that’s weird? How they’re both basically attached to his hips?”

“Not my place to judge.”

The redhead gave a frustrated sigh and reached for a pillow that he had kicked off earlier. He pushed it down over his own face and let out one of the most startling screams that Rude had ever heard. It sounded like an animal being strangled. He just sighed and shook his head. They would give her ten more minutes and if she still wasn’t here they’d leave without her. 

Once he was finished screaming, he thrust the pillow downwards and hugged it to his chest. He stared up at the ceiling and began to count the seconds in his head. At some point, he must have fallen asleep. It was almost like counting sheep. The other Turk in the room wanted to put that pillow back over the other’s face to smother him. Could he get away with that? He would have liked to have thought that he could, but perhaps it would be better to wait. Maybe Elena would show up and they could leave.

It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later that the door opened. Reno, already in the thralls of a bad mood, got off the couch and started to walk towards the door. “It’s about time, Ro- . . .” He was caught dramatically off guard by Rufus standing in the doorway instead. Why was their boss here? He brushed passed the redhead and approached the man at the desk. They seemed to have a conversation for a few minutes. Whatever they were saying didn’t seem to register to the other’s mind. Out of all the people . . . He spotted Elena and Tseng standing on either side of his door and walked over to them and began to demand answers.

Tseng revealed nothing and all Elena did was laugh. Reno turned around to ask his boss what the meaning of this was, but the man was once again holding his hand out to him. This wasn't like when they were at the birthday party. Somehow this felt different. He just stood there and stared at it seemingly to be stunned into silence.

“My date for the evening seems to have canceled on me. I believe she fell ill. I need someone to accompany me for the rest of my evening. Care to join me?”

The words seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Rufus had plenty of women he made the public showing of taking to dinner. Whether or not he did anything with them afterward he had no idea. So if one date canceled, he had a plethora of other ladies to call upon. And if he really wanted to pick a Turk, Elena was available. And of the other women were available. But no. This man decided, ‘Hey, Reno is free. Going to take him to dinner instead.’

“Reno, are you going to join me? My plans may not be time sensitive this evening, but I would like to get started.”

“Y-yeah, sure.” He paused for a second, “Do I, uh, have time to go change? I’d like to freshen up.”

“I would prefer that. I heard about what you did today. I don't want that smell ruining dinner.”

Reno made to leave, but Rufus cleared his throat. He turned around to look at him and made a face. He indicated his hand and waited for it to be taken. The redhead seemed to hesitate before laying his hand in the open palm. Rufus decided to take things a step further and leaned down, placing the gentlest of kisses on the male’s knuckles. The Turks shouldn't have been surprised, but honestly? This wasn't even the worst of it right now.

The two of them walked all the way out of the ShinRa Building, in front of plenty of witnesses, and out to Rufus’s car. Before the blond would let him in, however, he had a towel put down to avoid smearing his filth all over the place. Once that was all taken care of, they went off to the Turk’s apartment. Reno was convinced that this man had copied his keys. They entered and he was ushered off down the hallway towards his bedroom. The President then sort of just waited on the man’s couch to wait for him.

Reno took his time in the shower. He had to make sure all of his work smell was gone. Then came the whole drying off and other grooming. Then he walked into his bedroom to get dressed. He honestly had no idea what he was going to wear. He sighed as he dropped the towel and just put on a clean uniform. However, he did the unthinkable. He buttoned it properly, tucked it in, and even closed his jacket. Little man was growing up.

“Alright, I'm ready.”

Rufus seemed impressed for all of three seconds, if that, once he saw his Turk. He got up and walked over to him, adjusting pieces of his outfit before standing back, holding the man at arm's length.

“Much better, let's go.”

They once again walked hand in hand back down to the car. Once inside they sat in relative silence. Reno would have spoken, but he was nervous. Again he wasn't even really sure why. He could be alone anywhere with this man at work. He'd feel nothing. Why was it that this situation, in particular, was giving him butterflies?

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Rufus again escorted Reno by the hand. Man, this was getting to be quite routine and he wasn't sure how to take this. He was pretty sure he saw women blushing at the sight of them, whispering to their friends and husbands. He wasn't really sure how this was going to be received, but he certainly knew more rumors were going to be spread at work.

They were escorted to a table and given menus. There was a very bold line drawn in the figurative sand here; Rufus stated that Reno would have whatever he wanted. However, he could only order one thing for each course. This was going to be a five-course meal and he hoped that Reno chose wisely. But there were just so many things to choose from! He spent longer than was necessary to figure out his order. Rufus had started drinking the wine that had been brought out to him. While he wished his Turk would hurry up, at least now he had something to occupy his time. He had an idle conversation about bringing a bib out for the redhead as he assumed things were going to get very messy. This was agreed upon and the waiter left.

When Reno was finally ready to order, he made sure to tell the man exactly how he wanted everything. It seemed a bit odd, but they were willing to of things how he wanted given that he was with Rufus. So after that, the blond ordered and waited for the waiter to leave. He offered his companion s0me of the wine and Reno all too eagerly took it. Honestly, the man could have finished the bottle all on his own. He actually did. Rufus had barely even gotten halfway through his own and was just staring at Reno. He knew the man could drink, but he just never thought the man could do it with wine.

Proved wrong again.

After ordering another wine of the red variety all for himself, he ordered the other something a bit more his style. Reno appreciated this and seemed to calm down his own drinking. This place was rather impressive if he said so himself. Not one he would normally have gone to. His taste was more diners and back alley holes in the wall. He considered that some pretty decent food. Places like this, that he assumed his boss went to often, were just miles above where he liked. Not that that was a bad thing, mind. He was just saying.

Their first course came and went and Reno wasn't impressed. It did taste good though. There just wasn't enough of it. Not to mention it seemed like he was using his utensils wrong. He had to be corrected a number of times throughout the entire meal. He wasn't sure that he enjoyed that. He also didn't understand what the point was. Like, just eat like a normal human. He was pleased to know he could eat dessert however he wanted though. That was great!

“Man, your date doesn’t know what she’s missing! All of that was great!”

Reno assumed that this was only going to be dinner. He would be wrong. Oh so very wrong. Honestly, the Turk felt ready for bed. His stomach was full and he had been drinking a bit. He could still walk on his own so that was a plus. Now for the walk back. They were, of course, still holding hands. Whatever nerves Reno may have been complaining about before was gone. So he was humming to himself and slipped into the car after his boss. He expected to be taken home, but instead, they were going somewhere else.

“Where are we going?”

“Did you think this was only dinner?”

“Yeah? I figured you'd only want to take me to dinner.”

“This is a date, Reno. What kind of a man do you take me for?”

Honestly, Reno had no response for that. He would have liked to have been able to speak about what kind of man he thought his boss was. He thought he was a great man. He probably treated all his dates with the utmost respect and all that bullshit. He huffed at himself; bullshit wasn't the right word to use, but he just wasn't smart enough to think of another word.

He didn't really answer, he let it hang in the air. He supposed it might have been rhetorical since the other didn't seem to be bothered by the lack of an answer. They eventually arrived at The Golden Saucer and honestly, Reno was surprised.

“I had another destination in mind, but I figured that this was more your style.”

Admittedly, he was curious as to what the other would have been. But he wasn't going to argue. This seemed like it would be rather enjoyable. He was given pocket money and told to, “Have fun.” It was almost like he was a kid again. Rufus followed him around silently. Was he judging his Turk? Probably. Was he going to remember all of this for later use?. Most definitely.

Eventually though, their night was coming to an end. Rufus suggested the Ferris wheel. They would get a glimpse of the whole place before leaving to go home. Reno loved this idea. He carried the giant kangaroo that he'd won with him and managed to squeeze it into the compartment. Rufus joined the pair and the ride began.

It wasn't too bad, he supposed. He was trying to push the stuffed animal out of the way through so he could see out his side's window. The higher they got the more he could see. He was getting a bit excited actually. Once they got to the top, it stopped. He assumed it was supposed to do that. So he just enjoyed himself at first.

“This is pretty nice actually. I love it up here.” Compared to being in a helicopter, this wasn't all that great. Still nice though. He got to see all of the places; the lights, the sounds. It was all pretty great. But after about ten minutes he was starting to get concerned.

“Are we stuck?”

“You've only just noticed? I figured it would take you longer. You've been making out with the kangaroo for a bit.”

“Jealous of her, eh?”

“Oh, yes of course.”

Reno had another quip lined up for a ‘no’,  but it derailed rather horribly at the ‘yes’. To clarify, he wasn't making out with the kangaroo. He was trying to move it out of the window so he could see the ground. It wasn't really working all that well. So he sighed and just leaned back against it.

“We could just sit here, I guess. Wait to be rescued.”

“You're a Turk, right?”

“Yeah, why?” Fuck kind of question was that?

“Rescue me.”

Reno stared at Rufus for an unfathomable amount of time. Or so it would have seemed like. In reality, it had only been about five minutes. What did he mean rescue him? He could see that smirk spreading across that man’s face. Just what kind of man did he take Reno for?! He would have said something, maybe even done something, but there had been movement on the ground for quite some time now. They heard that Rufus Shinra was stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel and got him down as soon as they could. Reno just didn't understand sometimes the things that came out of that man’s mouth.

Once rescued, Rufus made sure to take Reno home and helped him get the kangaroo inside. He told the Turk he wanted to see him bright and early, as always. Then he left. Sighing, Reno collapsed on his couch. Tonight had certainly been fun though.

[leonawriter]

Against Predestination

While hashing out ideas for this thought that went “what if an AU where Sephiroth had nightmares of the things he does in canon (like what Lucrecia apparently had) and because of this, pointedly doesn’t do those things) and... I ended up with, well-

“What if Sephiroth, due to recurring nightmares of potential future events from his youth that he learned to hide from the scientists, and a distaste of inevitability due to the mindset of being an experiment and specimen - what if he gained a hatred of the idea of predestination?”

Which. Changes a LOT of things.

He might actively attempt to do something contrary to what the dreams say he ‘should’ do, simply because he wants to corrupt the ‘data’. 

He’s so used to scientists being all ‘if it does something, repeat the process, and continue until you know that it will always repeat and in the same way’ that he sees the nightmares as similar to that - he doesn’t want whatever thinks this is funny to have the satisfaction of seeing the same results, as though he’s still just some kind of scientific experiment. 

If he’s going to do this, if he is, then it’ll be with the biggest middle finger to scientists (and, specifically, Hojo) as he can possibly give.

(Cut because a) this got long and b) it sort of evolved into a sort of flash fic along the way. Please read. I wanna know what you think.)

Which means - if his nightmares often involve flame, then Sephiroth will never be seen with a Fire materia. He can use them, just fine. Genesis likes to poke fun of him for this, even, until one day in training Sephiroth came in with some by accident, and he’s not about to not use what he has on him. That was drilled into him as a kid growing up, that you used what you had, and if you didn’t, you ended up dead - or with Hojo upset. 

Genesis soon realised that Fire materia wasn’t something Sephiroth was bad at, or a vulnerability. He could use it just fine. Devastatingly well, in fact. 

He reads, and he reads a lot. But he never reads at night, and if he’s reading scientific texts, he’ll always read with someone else in the room. He always felt most at ease doing this when Angeal or Genesis were still around - Zack tends to ramble on worse than Genesis ever did, and can’t stay still for even just one minute. 

Sometimes, he takes to tying his hair up or back and out of his way when on missions, simply because he remembers the feeling of it flying free in the wind in his nightmares. He likes the feeling, but sometimes the association is too much.

The Sephiroth in his nightmares never seems to understand other people, so he chooses, deliberately, to sometimes take his paperwork out into more social areas, and finds that he and people don’t, exactly, get along. His responses to people are rare, blunt, and tactless. He learned the art of warfare, of how to cut and poke holes in people with both swords and words, not diplomacy and how to help with peoples’ problems, like Angeal, or healing like the Cure and Restore materia that Genesis was quite adept with, even if it wasn’t the kind of magic that the man was best known for. But he becomes better at reading and interacting with people in his own way.

He notes that the self that he sees in his dreams is rarely to the point, and likes to speak in words that are as much meaningless poetry - at least, to what he can understand - as Genesis reeling off LOVELESS quotes any any given opportunity. So he makes a point of saying exactly what he means, whether it helps his case or hurts him or hinders him - no matter what, as long as it is safe to do so.

So it is that when Genesis deserts, he feels the loss even more keenly, and when Angeal disappears he feels as though he is left adrift. For a while, he feels as though the nightmares might swallow him whole-

But Zack doesn’t leave him alone, and it’s out of habit more than anything that he keeps certain things going, things such as filling in the most ordinary and non-confidential paperwork with the rank and file, and tying his hair up and out of the way. Only reading the scientific notes he finds in regards to Hollander’s research with Zack in the room.

When he first hears that Zack has attached himself to a trooper, he doesn’t think anything of it. SOLDIER 1st Class Zack Fair has made friends with a Turk - more than one, as well, if such a thing can be believed, if Turks were capable of being someone’s friend. He’s fairly sure that to a mere trooper, Zack is some sort of hero, an idol to be worshipped such as what Genesis always wanted to be, but never achieved. 

(His heart still hurts, for that. The loss of Genesis. Angeal, at least, he could say that he was still on civil terms with, although it was more of a long distance friendship than anything as close as they’d once had. But Genesis - oh, Genesis had been lost to him, and for a long time now, too.)

It’s when he sees the trooper take his helmet off that Sephiroth’s heart stops for just a beat, or it feels like it does-

(The dreams were incredibly lifelike at times, far too lifelike and realistic. One should never be able to taste the feeling of a blade cutting into you like that. It sometimes hurt enough that he still felt phantom pain when he woke up, as though it were a scar not on his body, since his body hadn’t been touched, it was only a dream, but his mind. A scar on his soul, for whatever deed he’d never done that had earned such hatred in the other SOLDIER’s mako-blue eyes.)

-because Cloud Strife was right there, in front of him, and had never touched a sword before in his life, by the looks of him. Looked at him with deep respect in those open, friendly eyes that told of how easy it would have been for Zack to befriend him.

He paused long enough for Cloud to ask if he was all right. He nearly laughed at how ridiculous it was, but the last thing he wanted was more attention, more concern.

It’s some time later when he hears that Genesis has been spotted in Nibelheim, and his reasons for taking - commandeering, they both likely had other things to be doing, other missions - Zack and Cloud for the mission were not simply what he told others. He trusted Zack. 

It was Cloud’s face that he remembered in his dreams, disappearing on the walkway above him as he fell to what must, and yet could not, be his own death.

I have never had parents, nor a hometown, he says to them both, all blunt honesty that they have both heard before. Zack looks at him strangely, but Cloud shrugs, and says that everyone has parents, but not everyone has to like them - there’s a fair few kids in Nibelheim who no one knows whose they are, and some of them just end up there, and no one ever asks why or how, just looks after them. Because someone has to.

Claudia Strife, he learns, makes a stew that tastes good and is warm, and filling enough for even a SOLDIER’s enhanced appetite, and this is a new fact.

Genesis’ words about being a monster, just like those in the mako tanks, strike home a little too far, with nightmare-memories of a single wing on the other side to the man in front of him, a mirror-match, doing things that only a monster could do. And yet, does not Angeal also have a wing, on exactly that side? Angeal, whose copies can be monsters, but monsters that have the same honour as Angeal himself. He takes that to heart, and wraps it around himself as some small amount of protection against the word, monster.

When he finds the books in the library in the basement of the Shinra mansion he wants to take the books back to the inn, and some part of him - the part that had enjoyed fighting Genesis a little too much sometimes, the part that had enjoyed mastering his use of Fire materia, a part that had grown ever since Genesis had defected and Angeal had gone and they’d learned more and more about Hollander and Hojo - told him that, for whatever reason, this would be a very bad idea.

Instead, he half-drags Zack down into the depths of the mansion with him on the second day, the younger First becoming more and more concerned as they go. But it’s worth it for the fact that Zack picks up each book that Sephiroth finishes, leafing through it with less inhuman focus and finesse and far less eye for detail, but far more, he has to admit, common sense.

It’s nearly midnight when Zack realises they’ve spent almost every single hour since waking in that basement library, and this time it’s Zack who’s dragging him out of that basement, and back up to the cold, biting air of Nibelheim, and the stars that they couldn’t see underground.

Cloud, still awake, asks if they’ve found anything useful. Sephiroth’s vision, tired from reading line after line of damning notes and burning not only from exhaustion but anger, for a moment sees the young trooper surrounded by flames. He pushes past without answering out of frustration with himself, and shame at the fact that those thoughts and feelings were so familiar and matched so well, too well.

The next day, Zack ensures that Cloud comes down to them every few hours or so, with something to eat and something to drink. Sephiroth couldn’t say that the thing that he was most thankful for wasn’t what Zack relished - the food, or the extra company - but the fact that this particular trooper, who kept his helmet on in town out of some foolish sense of having lacked in accomplishment, reminded him of what was at stake.

(At night, when Zack would take him back to the inn, he would force himself to dream, and he would dream of fire and then he would dream of blue eyes and blond hair asking him why he couldn’t just stay in his memories-)

By the end of the week, he’s well aware that he’s a ticking time bomb of anger, resentment, and self-loathing, but he’s also self-aware enough to coldly instruct Zack and Cloud to set the fire themselves, to destroy any of the remaining equipment. His respect and esteem for them rises when they don’t ask why, only what’re we going to do with the weird sleeping guy in the coffin, and he blinks, and wonders what they mean, and tells them to do whatever they want.

He doesn’t care anymore.

He watches from the inn’s window, as smoke begins to rise from the Shinra manor, the place where he was created, and instead of feeling any sort of satisfaction he feels merely numb.

When Zack and Cloud return, coughing, they bring with them a man dressed in red and black who has the look of a Turk about him, a gun at his side, and a golden claw instead of a hand.

Sephiroth? This is the man we found. I found by accident, really, I was poking around and wondered why guard hounds might be carrying keys, and- anyway. This is Vincent Valentine.

The man looked at him sharply at the sound of Sephiroth’s name, which was also the first time he’d noticed the man’s red eyes.

Sephiroth, the man said, his voice hoarse and - somehow - curious, as though he were somehow personally invested in a man he’d never met. You look just like her.

At first he’d blinked, confused and blank, and then his eyes had narrowed into angry slits as he’d bit out something that must have been to the effect of Who, Jenova? Which only gained him a glare in return, which gave him a headache thanks to flashbacks into nightmares, and facing down the barrel of a now-familiar gun and red eyes-

No. Lucrecia. You look just like her.

The pressure of bitterness and anger in his head built to a crescendo-

(Taking away Her way in, everything that She had planned for and accomplished, Her everything.)

-and then he raised his head, and asked who that was, because this...

This was new.

[clerithraven]

BODYGUARD AND FLOWER GIRL: HER SAFETY IS A PRIORITY

Remember the bodyguard deal? I actually re-watched that particular scene. And what I found thereafter is very interesting.

The reason for Aerith and Cloud’s bodyguard deal was for Cloud to get Aerith home. Once Cloud had done that, that was supposed to be it. When they arrive at where Aerith lived, Aerith introduces Cloud to Elmyra, her foster mother. After finding out that Cloud wants to go to Sector 7, Aerith volunteers to take him there. Cloud tries to dissuade her, knowing the danger of letting her come with him. After Cloud makes a blunder about “getting help from a girl”, this makes Aerith all the more determined to do so. Elmyra, worried about Aerith’s safety, secretly asks Cloud to leave without telling Aerith.

Well, it’s midnight already, seems about time to leave for the 7th Sector. Aerith declared that she’ll show me the way. But if I let her, it seems hard to tell who the bodyguard is. I’m gonna slip out of here.  ~Cloud’s monologue; Dismantled

Cloud knew it would be dangerous for Aerith to accompany him on the way to Sector 7, and so he agreed to Elmyra’s request. After all, what kind of a bodyguard would he be if he let his charge throw herself into a known risk?

Cloud was supposed to part ways with Aerith then and there. But, ever the strong-willed girl, Aerith surprises Cloud by making it so she goes with Cloud to Sector 7. It’s amazing how Aerith knew Cloud would sneak out. Maybe because she knew her mother would do something about it?

Aerith: You're up bright and early. Cloud: How could I ask you to go along when I knew it would be dangerous? Aerith: Are you done? (Cloud smoothes his hair.) Aerith: You have to go through the slum in Sector 6 to get to Tifa's 7th Heaven. I'll take you there. Come on! (Aerith runs out. Cloud follows.) ~FFVII Script

Cloud clearly puts Aerith’s safety first. Poor Cloud, his charge seems to have a knack for heading straight towards dangerous situations, leaving him no choice but to follow and make sure she stayed safe. Take for instance the time when Tifa appeared on a cart heading to Don Corneo’s.

(A huge gate opens in the back. A large carriage drawn by a chocobo comes out. A woman is riding in the back.) Cloud: Huh? Hey, back there..... (He stands up) Tifa!? (The carriage drives out and the gate closes.) Aerith: That girl in the cart was Tifa? Where was she going? She looked kind of odd... (She hops down and chases the cart.) Cloud: Wait! I'll go on alone! You go home! (She doesn't listen. She chases the carriage off screen. Cloud shakes his head and goes after her.) ~FFVII Script

Both of them knew something was wrong, and Aerith acted on it. When Aerith went to go after Tifa, Cloud tries to stop her and insist he’ll go at it alone. Once again, he’s trying to get Aerith out of harm’s way. Aerith, our spunky heroine, won’t listen though. Cloud really has his work cut out for him.

Soon enough, Aerith is about to head into a dangerous situation again. Do recall Tifa’s plan to get Don Corneo’s attention and question him by making it so she was chosen to be his bride. Aerith volunteers to be one of the three women Don Corneo chooses from. And how did Cloud react?

Aerith: Sorry... but I overheard... If you know the three girls, there's no problem, right? Tifa: I guess so, but... Aerith: We have two here, right? Cloud: No, Aerith! I can't have you get involved. Aerith: Oh? So it's all right for Tifa to be in danger? Cloud: No, I don't want Tifa in.... ~FFVII Script

Again, Cloud is aware of the danger of the plan. After all, whoever was picked would be put in the hands of the lecherous Don Corneo. Cloud expresses his wish for Aerith not to get involved. But Aerith counters by pointing out that Tifa would also be in danger, along with questioning if Cloud was fine with it.

And, sorry, but the last line... It just seems like Cloud was trying to dig his way out of a gutter hole he suddenly found himself trapped in. He did’t even finish the sentence and just let the thought hang in the air. Probably because he knew it would just sound half-assed. He’s made it clear whose safety was his priority. Funny how he prioritizes the well-being of the woman he just met and not the childhood friend he made a promise with.

Moving on. Once Don Corneo chooses, we actually get different reactions based on who was chosen. I’d like to share what happens if Tifa was picked.

(Cloud is about to go in to the Don's room when Aerith screams from the torture chamber.) Aerith: No--!! Help!! (Cloud rushes down the stairs.) Aerith: No-!! Kotch: Ha ha ha... Wait, you! (Cloud looks down. Kotch is comically chasing Aerith around in circles. Aerith runs up the stairs and Kotch follows. When Aerith reaches Cloud, she kicks Kotch in the crotch.) Aerith: I'm so sorry! (Kotch loses his balance and flails his arms...) Kotch: oh, oh, oh.... (He falls down the stairs.) heh, heh, heh... Cloud: Aerith!!

Option 1: You all right? Option 2: We gotta help Tifa!

Cloud: You all right? Aerith: I told you. I'm used to danger. To tell you the truth, my heart was pounding. ~FFVII Script

Cloud was going to go after Tifa, who was now at the mercy of Don Corneo, but after hearing Aerith scream, he goes after Aerith instead. Again, Cloud prioritized Aerith’s safety as soon as he heard that she was in trouble. Although by the time Cloud arrives, Aerith proves that she could handle it.

Now let’s explore the time when Aerith was taken by Shinra after Sector 7 is destroyed. Cloud was shown to be preoccupied with thoughts on saving her. While Barret and Tifa are deeply affected by the tragedy of Sector 7, Cloud is thinking only of Aerith, who they saw was taken away in a helicopter.

(Barret faces Cloud, whose back is still turned.) Barret: An' what about you? (Cloud looks up, still not turning.) Cloud: ........... (He leaves the playground.) Barret: Yo! Where's he think he's goin'? Tifa: Oh! Aerith! Barret: Oh yeah, that girl. What's up with her? Tifa: ...I don't really know... But she's the one I left Marlene with. Barret: Damn! Marlene!! ~FFVII Script

Cloud’s desire to go and rescue Aerith was that obvious that Tifa immediately figures it out. Even as Barret worried about Marlene, his little girl, as Barret and Tifa grieve over the loss, Cloud’s mind was still focused solely on Aerith.

The 7th Sector was ruined. We couldn’t stop the explosion at the pillar of the Plate. Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie are gone. Though they are nice folks… Besides, there’re a lot of deaths, people who believed Shinra, and those who disbelieved…. And then, Aerith was kidnapped. In exchange for Marlene’s safety, she was taken away by the Turks. If only she was not involved in this battle, between me and Shinra….. Aerith’s mother told us that she’s a foster child. And because she’s the last survival of “the Ancients,” Shinra was after her since she’s little. So far, it seemed the Turks had never tried to forcibly take her away in violent manner. They just persistently asked for her cooperation. But, Shinra was entirely impetuous this time. If Shinra changed the strategy all of a sudden, then no one can guarantee her safety. I need to get in the Shinra building. I need to rescue her……by all means! ~Cloud’s monologue; FFVII Dismantled, p. 145

We get an insight into what was going through Cloud’s mind as the events unfolded. He regrets having involved Aerith in his issues with Shinra. After all, because Marlene was left under the care of Aerith, she allowed herself to be captured by the Turks in exchange for Marlene’s safety. What worried Cloud was that Shinra forced Aerith this time, a change that meant Aerith’s safety wasn’t guaranteed. Cloud clearly becomes desperate to save Aerith, willing to do anything to achieve that goal. This shows how important Aerith already was to Cloud early on in the game.

Once they get to Shinra HQ, they had to find a way to get in. The course they took was through the stairs and they climb. During the climb, we get to see an interesting conversation between Cloud and Barret, who came with Cloud because he wanted to help Aerith who kept his daughter safe.

Barret: Don't know... why the hell... we gotta climb... Cloud: ...because we don't want to start a commotion until we've saved Aerith. I doubt that's possible though... Barret: ...heh heh heh. Cloud: Knock it off. You're giving me the creeps. Barret: So there are times when even you fight for other people. I am impressed. ~FFVII Script

Being in enemy territory raised the stakes of the rescue, so Cloud is worried about risking Aerith. He wants to make sure Aerith is safe first before taking drastic measures. This exchange is significant because Barret comments on Cloud’s motive with playing it safe. To Barret, it’s the first time Cloud has shown concern for someone else enough to fight for their sake, and this impresses him.

Remember that Cloud had repeatedly refused  to help out AVALANCHE even if it was to protect the Planet, even when Tifa practically begged him to do it and reminded him of his promise. Barret had to spend money to pay him for his help, money that was supposed to be for Marlene’s sake. But there Cloud was, doing something for the sake of another voluntarily. This makes Barret see Cloud in a different light. All of this was made possible because of Cloud’s desire to save Aerith. This must have also given Barret an idea of how important Aerith has become for Cloud.

Side note: This conversation seems like one between friends wherein one teases the other. Barret going  “heh heh heh” after Cloud’s reasoning of not making a commotion before Aerith was safe seems like he’s teasing Cloud of his obvious interest in Aerith. Cloud also reacts in the same way someone being teased would.

Once the group gets to where Aerith was, Red XIII, or Nanaki, is also there – and both are trapped in a tube. The rescue party manages to get them out of it, but an enemy appears. What does Cloud say in response to the appearance of an enemy, one who Nanaki identified as a strong one?

Cloud: We'll take care of that monster. Somebody take Aerith somewhere safe... ~FFVII Script

Yep. Aerith’s safety is once again top priority for Cloud. I have to point out that Tifa, the other girl in the group, is also there. Take it as you will, Cloud’s main concern was still keeping Aerith safe. After the battle, once the group is reunited with Aerith and whoever the player chose to go with her, Cloud’s immediate question was about none other than Aerith.

Cloud: Aerith, you all right? ~FFVII Script

Aerith was not even involved in the battle in any way, but Cloud was still concerned about her well-being. Yes, she was kidnapped and held captive, but isn’t it a little too much when Cloud had already made sure she was taken away from the battle and yet he still wants to make sure she was okay after it when she had no participation at all? Cloudy boy is being protective of Aerith here, folks, plain and simple.

Too bad they all get captured by the Turks before they can completely get out of Shinra HQ and they come face to face with President Shinra.

(Rude and Tseng lead Cloud, Barret, Tifa, and Red XIII into the President's office. Their hands and feet are bound.) Cloud: They got you, too? (He turns to the President.) Cloud: Where is Aerith!? President Shinra: In a safe place. ~FFVII Script

Aerith is notably absent in this scene, which has Cloud demanding where she was. All Cloud got was an ambiguous answer. Cloud doesn’t get the chance to question President Shinra further as he went on to make a speech of his plan for the Promised Land. When that was done, Cloud and the group are taken to their cells.

After the party’s capture by the Turks and their subsequent imprisonment, it is discovered that Aerith’s cell was right next to the one where Cloud and Tifa were. This dialogue follows:

Cloud: I wonder how Aerith is doing? (The camera moves over to show Aerith's cell. She is lying on her cot.) Aerith: Cloud, are you there? Cloud: Aerith!? You safe? Aerith: Yeah, I'm all right. Aerith: I knew that Cloud would come for me. Cloud: Hey, I'm your bodyguard, right? Aerith:  The deal was for one date, right? (Tifa sits up.) Tifa: ............oh, I get it. Aerith: ...!? Tifa! Tifa, you're there too! Tifa: "EXCUSE me." ~FFVII Script

Again, Cloud is concerned about Aerith’s safety here. They were separated for a while, so Cloud is keen to know how Aerith was doing. Aerith’s cell was right next to his and she heard him. She reassures him that she was safe and that she knew Cloud would come for her, to which Cloud responded with reminding her he was her bodyguard. This, of course, reminds them both of the bodyguard for a date deal.

This exchange between Cloud and Aerith was enough to give Tifa an idea about the growing connection between Cloud and Aerith.

Seeing Cloud and Aerith developing their world together before her eyes, she inadvertently lets slip her peevish feelings. ~Tifa’s character profile; 10th Anniversary Ultimania

It was enough to get Tifa jealous seeing as her rival was somehow getting ahead of the race. This implies that other people could see how Cloud and Aerith’s relationship was developing as the game went on.

The next morning, their cells are found open. The party discovers that President Shinra was dead, and it was most likely because of Sephiroth. They try to question Palmer, but Rufus arrives. They all proceed to escape Shinra HQ. But look at what Cloud says:

Cloud: Get outta this building with Aerith! Barret: What? Cloud: I'll explain later! Barret! This is the real crisis for the Planet! Barret: The hell's that supposed to mean? Cloud: I'll tell you later! Just take my word for it! I'll go after I take care of him! Barret: Awright, Cloud! ~FFVII Script

There he goes again. Cloud orders Barret to get out of Shinra HQ with Aerith while he takes care of business. This just proves how Cloud was highly concerned for Aerith’s safety.

And how does Aerith react to all of Cloud’s effort to keep her safe? Let’s take a glimpse of Aerith’s thoughts during their imprisonment in Dismantled.

Cloud, you came! When I arrived at Shinra Building and was handed over to the man called Hojo, I couldn’t help thinking that I won’t be able to escape anymore. I don’t know why but that man gave me the shivers. The way he looked at me is like measuring a piece of experimental specimen…. In short, he wanted a hybrid from Red 13 and…oh forget it, I don’t want to talk about it. Anyway Professor Hojo is absolutely a weirdo! Although Red told me that “the acting was to throw Hojo off guard”, but he seemed quite serious at that moment. He does look like a savage beast, however, he is more human than most of mankind. Like what he tried to convey, we should cherish this Planet. It’s just…I can also feel the excessive strain — he seems to push himself too hard.

And Cloud really is a hero! To Tifa and to me as well, he’ll come wherever we’re in a pinch! Well, as for the one-date payment, I think I should make it two! ~Aerith’s monologue; Dismantled, p. 148

Aerith is clearly happy that Cloud came for her, calling Cloud a hero. And it’s not just because he came to her rescue, but also because she believes that he will surely come if she, or Tifa for that matter, was in trouble. Cloud has proven time and again that he will be there if he was needed. This makes her grow increasingly attracted to Cloud, deciding to go out on another date with Cloud.

Once the group makes it out of Shinra HQ and make it to the edge of Midgar, they all decide to go after Sephiroth. This conversation takes place:

Barret: We need a group leader for our journey. 'Course only me could be the leader. Tifa: You think so...? (Aerith walks to Cloud.) Aerith: It would have to be Cloud. (Barret stops abruptly and looks at Aerith.) Barret: ^#$^%....... awright. Go Northeast to a town called Kalm. If something happens, we'll meet up there. ~FFVII Script

Barret points out the need for a group leader and nominates himself. Tifa makes a vague comment, seemingly not really agreeing with Barret, but it is Aerith who boldly insists it should be Cloud who will lead them. This is a compelling moment because it shows the depth of belief Aerith has in Cloud. She thinks highly of Cloud enough to believe him capable of leading the whole team against Sephiroth. Barret, the one who initially wanted to be the leader, doesn’t even contest Aerith’s words. This made the team start to recognize Cloud and his worth.

Cloud, the mercenary who demanded a huge amount of gil for helping out, was starting to get recognition as a hero worthy of being accepted and honored for his efforts – something he was denied of in his childhood. And it all started when he met Aerith – as destiny had intended for them both to find each other.

It’s such a romantic concept, is it not?

[asreoninfusion]

Vampire AU Chapter 4

.....

.....

..... I’m sorry. This is nothing but exposition. Literally. Just. Five pages of exposition. It’s got a whole heap of world-building elements, but this fic has been so poorly planned on my part (i.e. not planned at all) that all of that got shoved into this one chapter. >>;;;

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

Zack called during Cloud’s lunch break the next day. It was not the most coherent of conversations, since Zack started by apologising profusely without even explaining why.

“—and I know it’s such a pain, I really wanted to hang out with you more as soon as possible, but it’s just this thing’s come up, and I’m sorry, I swear. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, but they don’t even know how long—”

“Zack,” Cloud had interrupted. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Nothing worthy of such a tirade, that was for sure. Zack just had a mission out of town, and would be gone for at least one or two nights. It was unfortunate timing, because that would take it into the weekend and Cloud had really wanted to spend more time talking with Zack and getting some answers. But it was hardly the first time Zack had been sent off, and it wouldn’t be the last. At least it wasn’t weeks this time.

The fact Zack had been making such a big deal out of it actually helped Cloud handle it better. It kind of stung that Zack was leaving so soon, even though Cloud knew full well it wasn’t his fault. Zack complaining about being tempted just to ditch the mission made Cloud laugh and put things into perspective. It was Zack’s damn job, and he had told Zack as much.

“I’m not going anywhere, moron. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Zack shipped out before Cloud finished work, so Cloud had just gone home to his own place. It felt a little weird – Friday nights had almost always been the one time he put aside to see Zack, no matter how busy the rest of the week had been. It was quiet without him.

Cloud hardly minded quiet. He would’ve killed for it back in his army days. But with quiet came the unfortunate habit for his brain to overthink.

Around Zack, everything seemed so straightforward. Cloud felt like Zack would always have his back, no matter what. So even if he didn’t know all the answers right then, between himself and Zack they’d solve any problem the world threw at him. He didn’t know everything about what being a vampire meant, but Zack did, and he knew Zack would tell him, piece by piece between games and food and kisses. Or more.

The longer Cloud was without Zack’s reassuring presence, the more he began to doubt.

He didn’t know what being a vampire meant; he’d barely scratched the surface. Sure, he knew a whole fucking lot thanks to his little obsession, but that was about fictional shit. His interest had previously only been an idea. Maybe something to turn into an incredibly hot roleplay with a lover. When it came to the reality of it, he was suddenly in over his head.

That was another thing. The sort of thing that made Cloud lie in bed and pull the pillow over his head, wishing he could smother his embarrassment out. It was one thing to have a fetish centred around a fictional concept, but if they weren’t fictional after all—there were real people who were vampires and Cloud had just fetishized the shit out of them as a group without even knowing—gods. He felt like the stupidest, most thoughtless pile of shit on the planet.

Worst of all was he hadn’t even changed; he still thought of Zack, Zack’s fangs, how it felt when they grazed against Cloud’s skin, and he still got as turned on as ever. Fuck.

Cloud rolled over aggressively, burying himself into the covers as if he could make himself disappear. He needed to stop thinking about it. There was nothing he could do about his actions thus far; all he could do was try to do a lot better in the future.

With nothing else to do on a Friday night at such short notice - and never having been much of one to go out anyway - Cloud had ended up staying in and going to bed early. He was regretting that course of action now, because it only resulted in longer to lay awake while his brain replayed ‘101 moments you hideously embarrassed yourself and made everyone hate you’.

“Fuck you too, brain,” Cloud mumbled into the pillow.

But maybe even that was better than the other worry that gnawed at his gut. Because then, on top of all that, there were the others. The other vampires who Zack was with. He didn’t even know how many, just that Zack seemed to have been talking in the plural.

He wasn’t going to judge. There had been a guy in his old unit who had a polyamorous relationship; they’d all been privy to that development, whether they’d liked it or not. Things hadn’t been working out between him and his girlfriend – they were so in love, but working for ShinRa just didn’t leave enough time for him to see her as often as she needed him to. Feeling shitty as hell but understanding, he’d actually helped her set up other dates, one of which was with a good friend of his. They’d hit it off. But rather than ending things and moving on with the new relationship, they’d come to an agreement to make it work with all three of them.

Most of the unit had given the guy tons of shit for it, assuming the girl was just with this new dude and keeping him hanging around for fun. But Cloud admired him. He’d fought tooth and nail for that relationship, and he’d ended up with something that worked for all parties involved. Cloud could tell he was so much happier after it all got sorted.

So, no. It didn’t bother Cloud that Zack had other lovers. But… he wanted to meet them, at least. Be on good terms with each other, be friends. Maybe they wouldn’t ever hit it off as anything more, but that was okay. To Cloud, it felt important to know about the other people who played such a significant role in Zack’s life.

He’d talk to Zack about it when he got back. Maybe then he could shake his vague feeling of unease about the whole thing.

It was a plan; or the start of one, at least.

That just left one last burning question in Cloud's mind. Or perhaps not so much a question as an entire topic. Everything about vampires, Cloud wanted to know. Had Zack always been a vampire, or had he become one somehow? How did that work? He clearly didn’t have a problem going out in the sunlight or eating garlic, where all those myths just bullshit? Was his enhanced strength and speed anything to do with being a vampire, or was that just from having been in SOLDIER before? What did ShinRa know about vampires, and what was their beef with them? What about the supposed ‘vampire threat’ Zack – and others, Cloud presumed – got sent out to combat occasionally?

It was fucking exhausting just thinking about it. He couldn’t even blame Zack for not having told him – there was so much Cloud needed to know, it would take forever to talk it through. They’d do it, though, piece by piece.

Of course, Cloud couldn’t get any direct answers until Zack got back. But, he wondered…  a lot of stuff out there was just the cycle of movies and books regurgitating the latest trendy incarnation of vampire lore, but Cloud knew of one or two places that might have some more relevant information. If he got a feel for what to expect, it might make that conversation with Zack faster and less one-sided. If nothing else, they could laugh over how wrong everyone was.

Yeah, he decided. He’d do that tomorrow.

By the time Cloud’s brain had finally stopped overthinking enough to let him sleep, it was already the early hours of the morning. That was probably the reason why he woke up a lot later than he’d intended the following day.

Cloud blearily informed his alarm clock that it was a piece of shit (though, of course, he was the one who had set it specifically not to go off on the weekends). After a quick bowl of cereal, a shower and getting dressed, Cloud headed out to the station.

Did he need to go to the library to do his research? No. He had a laptop and a phone that both would have been entirely capable, but… Zack had him getting paranoid. Cloud was absolutely not meant to know about the whole vampire thing, and he could get Zack in serious shit if anyone found out he had told Cloud.

He knew it was stupid. What were the chances anyone was gonna be checking his internet activity? Sure, his wifi was provided by ShinRa - a bonus they provided alongside the subsidised apartments they offered to their staff (it was the only way any of the lower level workers could afford to live above the Plate). That didn’t mean ShinRa was watching all the information that went through the network.

Whatever. It was nice to go out somewhere on his day off anyway.

Cloud hadn’t been to the library in a long time; it was pleasant to watch the familiar building roll into sight as the train approached. It really had been years.

When Cloud had first arrived in Midgar and joined the army, he’d never intended to stay there. His goal was SOLDIER. But he failed his first attempt to get in, and before he had a second chance the whole SOLDIER project was shut down. He drifted for a bit; to the logistics department first, then the engineering corps.

That was when he’d sought solace in the library; they were provided with basic training, of course, but Cloud had found a love in working with mechanics, and wanted to devour far more information than the army provided. He’d finally found something he excelled at. And excelled enough that he’d been picked out for an internship in the ShinRa’s general engineering department.

He’d been working in the engineering department since. Instead of just maintaining the equipment the military used, Cloud now got to play with anything from cutting-edge robotics to the mako reactors. As well as a few side projects of his own.

Although it had been a while, not much had changed. Cloud found himself drifting fondly to the non-fiction section; in particular, the shelves that housed the library’s books on mechanics. And of more immediate concern, the small study room behind that section that also housed a pair of computers for library patrons to use.

The room was empty, as Cloud had been counting on. Being small and out of the way, a lot of people didn’t know about it, or perhaps simply couldn’t be bothered to go all the way up to the third floor just to sit in a glorified cupboard to study.

Cloud slid into the computer seat and logged on.

The first thing he wanted to check was ShinRa’s official stance. Zack had said they viewed vampires as the ‘bad guys’ – why? They kept Zack employed, what was the difference between him and anyone else?

There was nothing on ShinRa’s own site. Just a generic statement about protecting the population from monsters, environmental disasters, and other threats.

Searching specifically for news articles featuring ‘ShinRa’ and ‘vampire’ as keywords turned out to be a little more useful. The oldest article was from five years ago, asking for ShinRa’s comment on a sudden surge in attacks in Midgar that were being attributed to vampires. The PR spokesman denied there being any such thing as vampires, suggesting instead that these were simply another vaguely humanoid monster that panicked victims were mistaking as something else. ShinRa would protect, as always.

Cloud noted the date down. Surge of vampire attacks – that could be relevant to something.

The newer articles didn’t seem to have anything of relevance. Cloud skim-read through a few; the only difference seemed to be that, over time, the PR department had picked up the public’s colloquial term, and now used ‘vampire’ themselves as a word to refer to the sort of monsters that preferred to kill by ripping their victims throat out with their teeth.

Attacks dropped to a steady rate, no more than any other kind of monster (human or otherwise) around, and the idea mostly faded from the public consciousness.

Next line of enquiry, then. What were these supposed ‘vampire’ monsters? ‘Cause they sure didn’t sound a damn thing like Zack. Or any of the types of vampires generally popularised by the media. (Cloud knew a lot about those ones – ahem.) In fact, the monster thing was new; Cloud couldn’t really find any mention of it at all anywhere between really, really old myths and then the reports starting five years ago.

Hesitantly, Cloud checked some of his old forum haunts. The awkward, hideously embarrassing forum haunts. That was… ahh. Cloud swallowed. A few minutes of clicking around turned into almost half an hour, but he determined one thing; that was nothing with any actual news there, that was for sure. These were the kind of vampires he was more familiar with. There were written stories, stills taken from movies, art of various characters, nothing more than that.

He could feel his face heating up, though. Just some of those picture, fangs sinking into flesh, seeing the blood well up beneath them… Fuck. Why was he like this?!

Cloud quickly clicked away, glancing behind him even though he was alone in the room. A whole fucking decade and he still hadn’t escaped his embarrassing vampire phase. And probably wasn’t ever going to now.

Anyway. There was one last site he particularly wanted to check – the reason he’d been so particular about not doing this anywhere he could be traced to. AVALANCHE. It was just a conspiracy theory website, but it had proven correct before. Namely, when SOLDIER had been shut down.

Cloud had been desperate for information. Of course he had been, his dream had just been fucking shattered. And on ShinRa’s end was nothing but radio silence. For literally months. All that had been issued was a generic statement about SOLDIER no longer running, but other departments being fully functional and ready to defend Midgar as much as ever.

So Cloud had turned to other places. Rumours had been rife, of course. But AVALANCHE was the one place that had come out with a statement and stuck to it, claiming there had been a mass desertion. Another year later, Cloud met Zack, an ex-SOLDIER, and that was confirmed to be true. Though even then, no one knew the reason for the mass desertion. Zack hadn’t elaborated beyond a tight-lipped; “ShinRa was doing some fucked up shit. They were right to get out.”

Of course, the problem was, AVALANCHE was incredibly anti-ShinRa. Even though Cloud wanted nothing to do with the rest of the organisation, just flicking through their ‘news’ page could get him in serious shit. Especially since he worked with goddamn mako reactors.

Best just find what he needed and get out.

He searched their archives for vampire stories and theories. Every hit was within the last five years; nothing older than that. That matched up to the other date Cloud had got, claiming a surge of vampire attacks around then.

The predominant theory AVALANCHE put forward was that ShinRa themselves were involved. The timing was almost too coincidental… the vampire attacks started almost exactly the same time SOLDIER was shut down. The one group of elite fighters who would be able to handle monsters like that, gone right when they were needed.

The hairs on the back of Cloud’s neck stood on end. He hadn’t even realised… he had been so preoccupied by everything going on with SOLDIER that he had barely registered the whole vampire/monster thing at the time, something that was fairly unusual for him. Normally just the mention of vampires made him sit up and pay attention, but having his life goal destroyed before his eyes had put a bit of a dampener on his enthusiasm for things at that particular point.

He hadn’t realised those events had been so close…

AVALANCE often stipulated that monsters in general were caused by exposure to mako. The feral ones had those mutations, those distinctive eyes. These vampires were monsters, but so much more humanoid. Were they too the product of mako exposure and mutation, but on people?

The SOLDIER process had involved using mako as an enhancement agent, Cloud knew that much. What if it had… gone wrong somehow, for some of them?

For all of them?

“Zack…”

Cloud had enough information. His blood felt like it was running cold, and he was cursing himself for doing this at a time when Zack wasn’t around. Because oh, boy, did he have questions now. Even if it was just a yes or a no answer, he needed to know. Was there a link with SOLDIER?

If there was… Cloud wondered about Zack’s other lovers, the other vampires; had they been SOLDIERs once as well? Why were some like Zack, still human, while others had become monsters?

Cloud logged off the computer, his history automatically erased by the system.

The wait for Zack to get back was going to be torture.

[s-ephiroth]

Silver Birdcage [Chapter 25]

Greetings. It’s 4 in the morning and I’m having ice cream. I’m also updating my fic because that’s something one should do when one wakes up with a huge craving for ice cream.

Anyway, before I stop making sense. Your casual reminder that we have a suicidal character in this. Also I didn’t edit this because it’s 4 in the morning and I just want to update before I feel tempted to rewrite this entire thing tomorrow or something.

Onto it.

[From The Beginning] || [Current Update] || [Ko-fi]

He listened intently to the sounds as they approached the room, while staring distractedly at the bags he and Cloud brought along with them after leaving Cosmo Canyon; not that much clothing, but enough to be comfortable. Those took a little space out of the third bed in the room, away from the door that would open at any moment then. His shawl was folded neatly near those, along with a certain, charging Cait Sith.

“Yeah, he’s really okay,” he caught Cloud saying outside, “I mean, not okay because he’s dealing with everything that happened, but you get what I mean.”

Safe to be interacted with.

Someone yelled about that not making much sense, in a rather crass way, to which Cloud just laughed and concluded it’d make more sense after they all talked. The sound of his voice like that had something inside Sephiroth fluttering gently.

Tifa chose that moment to reappear from the bathroom.

“Well, it’s time… I guess,” she just said and sat down on one of the beds, doing her best to avoid as much eye contact as possible. He couldn't really blame her when he couldn't bring himself to make much eye contact without feeling weird, either, focusing on anything else — Cloud's warm and familiar voice among the others’ outside, footsteps, shifting around — just so he could find some peace of mind to prepare himself.

Sephiroth felt even less ready for it when the door opened, when the very first person he saw was the heiress of Wutai herself.

She turned around to say something to Cloud but was simply told by someone else to “just get in already,” which she did, calling Tifa’s attention for a quick hello but staying as far from him as possible. For her, it was something to tease Cloud a little with a harmless, unconscious Sephiroth around, but it was something else entirely to interact directly.

With each one who followed and took their places in the room, clearly avoiding to sit in the same bed as him, the little reminders of everything Sephiroth took from them seemed to haunt him even more than they usually did.

The fact that two, different colored Cait Siths were having some sort of family reunion on the corner didn’t help much with setting his mind at ease.

A blanket of silence covered all of them completely for a long moment after Cloud sat down by his side, eerie enough that he preferred to stare at his lap than at any of them. He’d never liked big meetings back in Shinra, nor saw the need for his presence in them. He wasn’t a board member, didn’t have much to add that would please said board members and Hojo was present in most of such occasions. They only made him feel overwhelmed. So longer after, away from that company and in the presence of different people, he still felt as though he would rather drown than have to bear the weight.

Cloud put a hand in his shoulder, effectively keeping him from drifting away any further, and assumed the leading role that anyone else in that room refused to pick for their own reasons.

“So, we’re here because Teef found something in the Shinra manor and because I’m now in charge of an oversized, sad ball of feathers.” He gestured at Sephiroth. “Ask me anything.”

That seemed to lift the mood at least a little bit. Just enough for a few of them to try to disguise any sort of laughter, Sephiroth included.

Cid raised his hand to ask, “Does he still have that long ass sword of his?”

“I don’t know. Sephiroth?”

“I…” He hesitated for a few seconds. While he was associated with Jenova, he could summon it out of thin air if it was needed. But Jenova was long gone, so maybe… “I’m not sure. I haven't tried to call for it ever since I woke up.”

“Try,” Cloud suggested, “To clear out any doubts as soon as possible.”

“...Here?”

He got nothing but a nod and some urging for him to stand as a reply.

That made him even more nervous than he already was, even as he took his distance to avoid any possible accident. Enough people had been stabbed by that blade as it was. To increase that number would be to increase his already countless sins.

He caused Masamune to appear with the same ease he had in the past; the weight of it gradually becoming real in his hand. However, once it was there, something quite… peculiar happened to it. Green light washed all over the blade and changed its shape, darkened the metal while coloring the edges a gentle violet and spreading silver details all over. A wing-like shape formed near the hilt, reminding him of Genesis’ beloved weapon.

Something about it felt… Ancient, in the way the Black Materia had felt in his hand.

“What the fuck?” Asked both Cid and Barret at the same time.

“I didn't do anything.” Sephiroth felt like clarifying, somewhat shocked, himself. “I just… summoned it.”

Something in the air carried a slight fragrance of flowers.

If he didn't know better, he’d doubt what happened, even if it had taken place before his very eyes. He suspected it had something to do with a certain someone handing over a familiar blade to him. Maybe that much was enough to change its very essence, to transform it into something new and to free all of them from the memories associated with its original appearance.

To make it a Cetra Blade.

He didn’t dare mention that, of course, as he realized that particular flower girl was still a sensitive matter for everyone present.

Cloud stood to take a closer look at it with the expression of someone who’d recognized something about that, even though he wasn’t saying anything out loud other than a comment or another about how the new blade seemed to be stronger than Masamune’s or how it suited his style.

Once Cloud seemed to have enough of it, Sephiroth let the sword fade away from existence once more, leaving nothing but dissipating black feathers in its departure.

“Alright,” Cid said once the two of them were sitting again, “so he still has a long ass sword.”

Tifa chose to ask what everyone was wondering about that.

“I suppose that if we take it from you, you’d be able to summon another one, right?”

Sephiroth nodded, though he seemed a little uncertain about that. He grimaced when realization hit him of why exactly she was drawing that conclusion, of a certain Masamune left behind in the Shinra building. He closed his eyes a little pained by that thought. Granted, President Shinra had been someone vile in life, but many people who worked at that place did so out of other options or due to Shinra painting itself for the masses as a good company. Oh, the things he did while associated with Jenova…

“I don’t intend to repeat any of what you saw of me before,” he said a little quieter than usual, “When I came back to my senses and I could see all I did, before Cloud helped, I… All I wished for was my death. Even now part of me still wants it, as punishment for what I took away. Because I understand my existence after all that happened will be a problematic one for myself and for others. But...”

“You aren’t doing that,” Cloud interrupted, “And you aren’t gonna sleep your life away as some sort of ‘closest solution,’ either.”

Vincent, who initially planned to just listen to the entire thing before offering any thoughts, had something to say when it came to that.

“I tried that. I can’t recommend it.”

“We can’t fully trust you just yet,” said Reeve through Cait Sith, “But I don’t think any of us would sit back and watch if that’s how you feel. If Cloud accepts you and if he nursed you back to health willingly, you count as Avalanche. I guess. So we’ll help.”

The entire room fell quiet, processing that. Well, it wasn’t exactly wrong, that. It was just… very unusual. Not that the way the others joined the team was in any way usual to begin with.

“I… thank you. I was going to say that, even if I really wanted to do it, I… I can’t die. The Planet doesn’t accept me because of who I am. It’ll either tear me apart or trap me in my own mind, and I don’t want to go through neither of those things again. So I want to help instead, if I can.”

There was a certain reason why Sephiroth’s eyes ended up on Yuffie as he said that, but it was something he didn’t feel quite ready to talk about with so many eyes on him and so many ideas already popping up among the others about ways he could help without possibly being recognized by anyone who could cause mass panic.

It was a good thing that they were distracted enough not to notice or comment on Cloud gently squeezing his hand and offering him a little smile before calling the others’ attention to the other things they had to discuss.

[leonawriter]

Those Under My Command

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Summary: Same AU as/semi-sequel to ‘To Write A Hero’. 

The plus side to being of a higher rank in Shinra's army than Sephiroth for the time being was that even when he couldn't avoid being in the now-teenager's company, at least Cloud was the one in charge.

Small mercies, when he realises that the cause of his nightmares really is just a kid on a battlefield.

Cloud had normally been in command of Genesis' forces, something that had sat uneasily upon him at first, but after the first weird meeting where he'd looked around for an ex-SOLDIER First in a tattered red coat and recently cut but still sort of wild-looking hair, he'd needed a minute to recognise that the scrawny redhead in Second's reds with an attitude problem was Genesis. It was easy to fall into habits, but just as easy to forget, and treat the kid more like Denzel or any of the other kids he'd started to get to know after Geostigma had been healed by Aerith's rain.

He'd only had one mission of sorts with Angeal under his command so far, and he'd reminded Cloud of Zack - enough that sometimes, only seeing the sword attached to his back, Cloud had almost called out Zack's name, before remembering that Zack wasn't there, and this kid was someone else. Other than that, Angeal was probably the easiest to deal with. Mostly because he was new, and Cloud didn't know a damn thing about him. The fact that he actually listened was helpful too, though.

He's sat on the edge of base camp, wondering yet again who the hell thought any of this was a good idea - the war, the SOLDIERs, finding this damned Promised Land that the President wouldn't admit didn't exist - at least, not the way he wanted it to - or the time travel business, all of it, really - when a trooper came up to him, nervously, with a piece of paper in their hands.

"New orders, sir," and he absently noted the female voice as he nodded. "You're to take SOLDIER First Class Sephiroth's squad down the river."

Cloud's eyes narrowed, and although for a moment he tenses, wanting to snap as he feels the tension in the entire world hung on a thin thread, he breathes it all out in a sigh.

He hates it. He hates himself, for going along with it. But if he didn't, then... that would be just as bad as letting it all happen, and at least by being involved, he can make sure that casualties stay at a minimum. Both for Shinra, where most of these people didn't have a damn clue what they were even fighting for, and for Wutai. 

He winces every time he remembers just who it is this war is against. 

Sorry, Yuffie, he thinks to her, almost wishing she could hear him and understand. But if there's any way I can help this come out better than before... that doesn't make it better, though. It doesn't make it right. You'd probably hate me, and I can't say I'd blame you.

...

There's a trap laid in wait not far from the other side of the river, because of course Wutai had known that they were coming, because some of their people had been left behind, and even if nothing else Cloud was known for not leaving anyone behind. It was the least he could do, but sometimes, it really did come back to bite him - and he was never the only one affected by his decisions, now. As if there'd ever been a time when he was.

He'd been able to manage everyone into surviving, at least. Mostly helped by the fact that with Sephiroth under his command - and wasn't that something that he'd never thought would come up - most of the people they went up against who tried to kill them, ended up dead.

It was hard to watch. Both because he knew that the people who were dying were just trying to protect their homeland, and because every time Sephiroth fought, Cloud could see glimpses of the nightmare that he would one day become.

The only consolations were that at fifteen years old, Sephiroth was, like Genesis, shorter, although it was was more long, gangling limbs that anyone else would barely know what to do with, slightly shorter hair, and the fact that not only was the trademark coat gone, but he was wearing the exact same First uniform that he'd remembered Zack wearing. 

The same one they'd tried to get him to wear, once they'd worn him down to the idea of working for Shinra, or thought they had. 

The other thing that separated past and future, was the fact that Masamune was nowhere in sight yet, and although up until now that had been a relief, because it was hard enough watching the boy who'd grow into someone he still had nightmares about-

He only just caught a trace of panic that wasn't his own echoing in his mind, filtering past all of the blocks and barriers he'd put up, a mental link that given his body was still the same one from the future he'd come from, still existed, or existed once more. The details didn't exactly matter when he noticed what the situation was at a glance, a ninja having gotten close enough, Sephiroth having misjudged his strike, and Cloud could see what would happen next almost like a vision.

Instead of letting the opening be taken advantage of however, he found himself having moved fast enough that there was still dust flying in the air between where he was and where he had been, his sword blocking the strike that would have found its way into Sephiroth's side.

The Wutai ninja took a little more to fall, unconscious more due to the mastered Sleep materia Cloud had taken to carrying with him than the blows to his body or head, and then Cloud had turned to Sephiroth.

Not the Nightmare. Not the Calamity. Not even a Remnant.

He was just... a kid.

"Next time you run into trouble, don't just deal with it on your own." Tifa, you'd probably smile at that. And then call me a hypocrite. He almost wished she were there right here and now, but she'd probably have found it harder to get over the fact that this was Sephiroth. Not that Cloud had found it easy himself. "Maybe when you're with other units you're a big deal, but when you're with me, you're under my command, and you're my responsibility."

The look Sephiroth gave him was cool, cold, and if he hadn't felt that swell of panic earlier, then it would have shown perfectly how disdainful the boy found being spoken to like this was.

"I didn't need to be saved," Sephiroth said, standing up without accepting the hand Cloud had held out. "And if I had been injured, then it hardly would have been a serious incident. I would have prevailed, and your concern is well-meaning, but misplaced."

Cloud sighed as the teenaged future silver general walked off, leaving him to wonder what to do with an unconscious Wutai ninja.

...

The next time he sees Sephiroth is actually later that day, because he'd done something he'd have assumed he'd gone crazy for if he'd told himself just a few days ago that he would - he'd actually called for Sephiroth to come to him.

"Sir."

And, of course, now that the silver-haired demon of Wutai was here, he didn't even know the words for what he wanted to say.

Cloud sighed, and shook his head.

"Do you... even know why I was worried back there?"

Sephiroth frowned.

"Honestly, no." Cloud closed his eyes. Perhaps this would be easier if he pretended it was any one of the other SOLDIERs that he'd had under him at any time. Any of them. "We've never truly met before this mission, and you seemed to be avoiding my presence for some reason, even though Genesis and Angeal both said that you were a decent military strategist and leader. I had assumed that you held some grudge against me."

Some grudge, he thought, if that isn't ironic, I don't know what is. Tifa would be right - I am a hypocrite. I can't just help someone half-heartedly, after all.

"I said back there," Cloud said slowly, picking his worlds carefully, "while you're under my command, you're my responsibility. I didn't just mean you, either. I meant everyone. All those troopers, all those Seconds and Thirds. I'm the leader, at least, I am here... so that means I look after everyone, and make sure we all get back to base. And if I see something going wrong, I step in. That's what the leader's supposed to do."

Sephiroth didn't say anything for a minute, the frown on his face not lessening one bit.

"We are of equal rank within the SOLDIER program, despite you, as far as I know, having only appeared some months ago. I'm going to be promoted soon, as well. At which point, you will no longer have any command over me."

Teenage Sephiroth-speak for 'I'm not a kid, don't treat me like one', huh? The thought almost made him laugh, and he shoved it down and out of the way to poke at later. He recognised it all too well from Denzel, and several of the other kids, too.

"If I hadn't stepped in, you'd have been stabbed in your side the moment your balance was off, because you'd misjudged your reach," he said bluntly. Sephiroth's eyes widened a fraction - just enough to know that the message had got through. "You're used to wielding weapons bigger than you are, aren't you?"

The question had come out softly, because this was, if he'd admit it, the first time he'd ever thought of this. All of the different parts of Sephiroth's childhood, and everything that had contributed to what made him who he was, and he hadn't thought of this one thing in particular before.

He hardly needed to see the slight, almost imperceptible nod, in order to know that it was there. The emotions burned through him in an instant of rage and shame born of frustration and who does this man think he is, seeing right through me like that? before the heady feelings died down.

"There was no reason to train me in smaller, weaker weapons when I would simply have to unlearn how they handled as soon as I moved on to the real thing."

Cloud nodded, seeing how that could have happened. And also in understanding, since moving from the Buster Sword to something smaller and shorter had always created issues; that was why he'd had the Fusion Sword made.

"You need something with longer reach, or you need to train yourself out of those habits," he said with a vague feeling of detached horror at the words. What was he even saying. As if he needed this younger Sephiroth becoming even more like the one he remembered. "And you need to stop underestimating people."

The slight change in expression told Cloud that what he was getting for that remark was nothing more than just sheer stubbornness.

"I do not."

He didn't even bother to stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

"You think you're the best they've ever made, and that makes you untouchable. It doesn't. No one's that powerful. All it takes is a moment when you're off your guard. That's all."

Sephiroth, with Jenova's head cradled under his arm, not even looking at the trooper or paying him any attention even though Cloud had picked up Zack's Buster Sword, adrenaline helping him carry it and then to stab the man he'd once thought of as a hero. Sephiroth, turning around in shock.

Sephiroth, so certain of victory that he couldn't even be bothered to go full out, only to end up dead once again, fading back into the lifestream.

Sephiroth, the kid-

"And that's when they strike."

Cloud shrugged, trying to dispel the uncomfortable memories. 

"That's... when you let someone else help. And not always in a fight, either."

"I'll try to keep that in mind, then."

Maybe this'll make a difference. Maybe it won't. But I can't just not do anything, even if he is... Sephiroth.

Who'd now decided that the discussion was over, and was walking back to the door of the tent. Stopped, and half turned around, his silver hair mostly hiding his face in an all too familiar way.

"Hojo - and the others - still want to know how you defeated me when we first... met."

"Hojo," Cloud said, not bothering to hide how much even the name of the man disgusted him, "can come out here and fight me himself, if he wants to know that badly."

And they can take him home in body bags when I've done, just to make sure he doesn't come back like the cockroach he is.

He almost missed Sephiroth's head nodding again, and an odd noise that might have been a laugh.

[leonawriter]

To Change A Sombre Morrow (chapter three)

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Characters: Genesis, Angeal, Sephiroth, Cloud, others.

Summary: Genesis continues to student-poach, and concerns are voiced.

...

"You should be careful," Angeal's voice says at his shoulder, far too amused to be a memory. "At this rate, the other Seconds are going to start thinking that if he gets promoted soon, it'll be because of favouritism, rather than actual talent."

Genesis snorted. With how difficult Zack had been the previous day, he'd made sure to tell Angeal what he was planning after the Second had gone off to do other things, so that when he appeared in the morning with a low-level Fire materia and a target, at least one of them wouldn't find it unexpected and Zack would be unable to say that there was anywhere else he could be.

Currently, the boy was making dismal attempts at hitting the centre of the target even once, let alone ten times in a row, as he'd asked for.

"If it's favouritism your'e worried about, you should have thought about that before you took him on. As things stand now, no honour remains, the arrow has left the bow of the goddess."

Angeal rolled his eyes with a smile at the use of LOVELESS in such a mundane setting, but as far as he was concerned, it was apt.

They stood in companionable silence for a while, watching as Zack grew frustrated with his training and lack of success - all of which were down to, as Angeal would put it, the boy's lack of focus. 

Then again, he had never lacked focus when fighting him. Perhaps it was simply that he lacked the necessary motivation. He wasn't, however, about to make a target of himself merely to prove a point.

His thoughts had begun to wander towards his situation, and the fact that sooner or later, events were going to begin to unfold as they had before, whether he changed things or not. He did intend to, but the important thing was how - how to change anything in any conceivable way that could have things turn out better than they had, and not worse.

He could desert again, but simply choose not to ally himself with Hollander. That would give him the time and space with which to choose where to direct his energy the best; but of course the other side of that was that he would be classified as an enemy of Shinra again, and he would have neither resources nor allies. So perhaps that was not the best idea. 

Which left his only other option, which was to stay where he was. In the heart of the monster itself, within the reach of the doctors and scientists who had made their lives hell ever since before they were even born. Yet at the same time, it would mean staying closer to Angeal, and monitoring how well - or not - he adapted to the information he would inevitably have to share at some point, because it was either that, or leave it to Hollander. It would also mean being able to keep an eye on Sephiroth, as well. As if just keeping an eye on him would be enough, from everything that he had seen, heard, and experienced.

It was almost a shame that the second option was already looking to be the one with the least bleak outcome. If he had defected, then he would not have needed to keep any of his more unique traits to himself. It had barely been a full twenty-four hours and he was already missing the ability to fly, with the wind against his face and through feathers that both were and weren't made of anything physical, that - despite logic and his memory of how things had gone the first time he had discovered it following his injury - he could feel behind his shoulder, phantom feathers itching to be spread-

He crossed his arms with an irritated frown, only to wince when the movement pulled at the injury that was still there under the dressings that he had reapplied earlier that morning.

In the training room, Zack had a slight loss of control of the Fire spell, and could be seen waving his fingers as though he were attempting a particular kind of cultural dance that he might have seen at some point.

"...Genesis?"

He recognised that tone of voice. He didn't like it - he never had. That was Angeal's I know you won't like what I'm about to say voice, and he was always right. Genesis never did like what Angeal had to say at these times. He had a feeling that this one wouldn't be any different.

"I ran into Sephiroth again after letting Zack go," Angeal said. Genesis hoped that the way he had tensed at Sephiroth's name could be put down to their fight the previous day, rather than anyone gaining any suspicion of its true cause. "He was relieved to hear that you seem to be doing well enough, but he has his concerns. I can't say that I blame him, either."

Marvellous. 

"And?"

Angeal sighed. For a moment the sound and the fact that the presence beside him was real reminded him of the number of times when he had missed his friend over the years, almost thought that he was right there, but it had just been an idealised wish, not a person with the ability to irritate him as much as this.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and focused on breathing normally.

"He suggested before that you might have had some sort of... bad experience the last time you were stationed in Wutai. Or one some mission you hadn't told us about. And he asked me to say this, because he's worried that there was something about him that set you off back there. Which is ridiculous - I've seen him put you into one of those moods where you just want to knock him off the top spot, but that was something else."

You have no idea, Genesis thought, stonily keeping his eyes on Zack and continuing to not facing Angeal. None. And I would much prefer to keep it that way.

"Something like that," he grit out instead when he realised that Angeal wasn't about to leave the topic alone if he didn't give some sort of answer. "I'd prefer not to talk about it, if you don't mind."

He expected some form of resistance. Instead, there was a pause, and then Angeal's hand briefly rested on his good shoulder. It gave him an unfamiliar, vaguely discomforting feeling. Angeal thought that he was being honest and opening up; what he had said wasn't entirely wrong, but it also allowed Angeal to believe what he wished.

"All right," Angeal said, who then started moving toward the training room's door, before pausing and turning back to look at Genesis over his shoulder. "I'm going to go and give him a break to catch his breath and cool off. You could... at least tell Sephiroth there isn't some major problem between you, though. Especially if it isn't his fault."

My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honour remains... truly, it is apt. You truly don't have any idea what you ask of me.

...

"Don't be ridiculous!" He almost could have laughed, but the fact that it hadn't been all that long since one of their number, currently glaring at him with narrowed mako-blue eyes, had brought him to a standstill in a duel and none of them looked all that amused with themselves held him off. "The last time I ever saw him, I tried to warn him about what we were - what Shinra made  us. Do you want to know what he told me? He said that no matter if I was lying or telling the truth, that I could rot. He was one of the most infuriatingly loyal people I knew!"

There'd been a quiet tension in the air. The creak of leather as someone's gloved hand was tightened. 

He'd been missing something. And he never liked being unaware of anything - that usually meant secrets, and secrets meant danger.

"And when was that, huh?" The heavy thud of the large, black man's gun hand hit the table. "'Cause it looks to me like you're runnin' on out of date info!"

It had taken him a moment to piece everything together. The years he'd lost. The years when each day went by with no new information, and both he and Hollander fuelling each other's feelings of despair at their ever more increasingly impending deaths.

"Nine years," he'd said eventually, tapping agitatedly on the table. "I'm fairly sure it has been, by now."

It had been late Autumn - or was it early winter? Either way, the season had seemed right.

For whatever reason, several of the people in Tifa's bar had stilled, and those who were not already staring at him turned to do so. Usually, he had no objections at all to being the centre of attention, and never had done even while a fugitive of Shinra that the company had declared legally dead. 

This, however, had given him the distinct impression of his back being against the wall, and with a ceiling above him, that meant there was no way out, if these people had heard something they didn't like. The door had been blocked by the man in red and black, who he'd vaguely recognised as the same Vincent Valentine who must have been the one central to Deepground's destruction.

"What?"

He'd known that snapping like that at people who'd appeared to be just as competent as SOLDIERs in their own way as far as he could tell was not a wise move, but he'd been tense, he had been since before he had stepped foot inside of the place, and the current atmosphere wasn't helping.

"Nibelheim." The single word had been spoken quietly, and although softly said held great weight. "It'd be about nine years ago now. You were there, weren't you?"

Cloud had seated himself opposite him at the start, and now his blue eyes were hard, inscrutable, shut off.

It would have been easy to lie, and say that he had not been there - but it would have also been too easily found out. And it would simply backfire on him when he was, inevitably, found out.

"Yes," he'd said, meeting Cloud's eyes. 

"And you thought that was a good thing to say to someone like... him?"

Genesis had shrugged with all the sense of purpose of a performer. "My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment... to find the end of the journey in my own salvation and your eternal slumber." A smile, though he'd had to force it. A hand to his face to brush away the hair that wasn't bothering his eyes, to give him an excuse to break eye contact. "I can no longer say that my life has been free of mistakes."

Cloud, eyes still stormy, had looked away and crossed his arms. Someone else had huffed noisily.

"Sephiroth was the one who killed President Shinra." It had been Tifa who spoke then, sat next to Cloud and sending a concerned look the blond's way every so often. "He's also the one who called down Meteor, and destroyed Midgar. He - he killed Aerith."

The name had seemed familiar somehow, but not enough to remember who it might be, or care past the fact that these people all seemed to. Genesis had been far more interested in the fact that they'd said things like 'called down Meteor' and 'destroyed Midgar', and twice now, at that.

"He was reported Killed In Action - and trust me, I was, and I know that SOLDIERs who are only written off can't be that quiet."

There was a certain amount of dark humour in the fact that Shinra still sent its supposedly deceased and/or defected employees emails. Not least the fact that he'd seen one for his and Angeal's own deaths, long before he'd even been showing any grey hairs, let alone Angeal.

"That..." Cloud, again, and still not looking in his direction. "No, that was true."

"Cloud-" Tifa reached over, putting her hand on Cloud's arm, and the former trooper closed his eyes for just one moment, but seemed to be strengthened by the woman's presence.

When he'd opened them, they'd been burning brightly again.

"The thing is, he came back. Because of Jenova. If you were there, you should know about her, right? And that's not it. Just last year, he came back again. It'd be nice to think he's gone this time, but..." Something had seemed to haunt the blond, making him tense for a moment, before he breathed slowly out again. "I'd prefer to be prepared."

It had seemed ridiculous, at the time. At one point, he had been prepared to take the world down with him, if he could not find a cure of some kind for his degradation. He had terrorised and murdered and stolen in order to aid Hollander in his research - research that had all come to naught, in the end. And yet here, it was Sephiroth who had done what Genesis had only made grand plans for, Sephiroth who was remembered, Sephiroth who was feared, in that way...

Sephiroth, who apparently would not stay dead.

Perhaps a number of years ago he might have felt hot fury at the thought that even in these  things, even after all of this time, Sephiroth still far outstripped him. Had achieved so much.

Instead, he could remember wondering about the amount of anger that had been in Sephiroth's voice when he had told Genesis to rot. 

...

He wouldn't say that he had made a habit of avoiding anything in his life other than death, but Sephiroth had, at some point, gained that vaunted position. 

Genesis had found himself taking on a simple monster hunting job that even Fair could have done that very afternoon after Angeal's talk with him; the last thing he had wanted was to turn a corner and be unexpectedly met with silver hair and green eyes, and react... inappropriately.

He soon found that the mission was harder than he had anticipated. More because the memories of the destroyed corpse of Midgar sometimes ghosted over his vision, leaving him blinking in the light that was dimmer than what he'd become used to, and losing his way in streets he hadn't walked down in years, than because of the monsters.

Monsters, he could deal with. These monsters, at least.

By the time he was returning back to the Shinra he had come to several realisations. The first of which was that there was no way in hell he was defecting again - freedom of movement was most assuredly not worth giving up that he knew for a fact that he was heading back to somewhere at least reasonably safe (by which, he knew that he wasn't actively being hunted down by the entire military), that had a goddess-blessed shower, that food wasn't going to have to be stolen in order to be halfway decent and edible, that when he found that there were strange stains on his clothes from the monsters he had been fighting, he would be able to hand whatever needed cleaning over to be properly cleaned... all of the things he had taken for granted the first time he had been a Shinra employee, which he had only just started to re-accustom himself to after settling into life in Edge.

Another was that it probably wouldn't be too difficult to request missions that sent him further afield. He had even seen something on the notices for Nibelheim, which had set his mind on the track of just what he could accomplish there, of all places. Banora, unfortunately, had not been on the list, and despite his feelings for his and Angeal's hometown being rather... complicated still, it was where he had found his restoration in his personal past. Its inaccessibility grated on him, especially given how Shinra watched over its employees' movements as closely as they did, and SOLDIER members even more so.

The most irritating, however, had to be that Angeal had been right. On not just one count, but two.

For one thing, by the time he had finished the mission, his shoulder was hurting like hell. The stress and strain he had been putting on the new wound was apparently far more than it should have been put under, and he had been treating it as though it was the old wound of several years, forgetting that it was still fresh. It was likely bleeding into the dressings he'd reapplied that morning, which was even worse, because if it was, then it was likely that it might have bled into his clothes. 

The other thing, which made his mood take an even further downturn on top of the irritation of everything else, was that... whether he liked it or not, he would eventually, sooner or later, have to talk to Sephiroth again. It was either that, or... the best case scenario was that he would inevitably find himself sent on a mission alongside the man, and thus far, no one other than Angeal had any idea that such an eventuality could possibly go wrong. The worst case scenario was that Sephiroth would decide that there was clearly an irreparable rift between them, and that-

Was unacceptable.

He was still ruminating on precisely why that might be, wincing every so often at the fiery ache that mako refused, because of his biology, to heal, when he turned a corner and there he was, at the end of the corridor.

Their eyes met, and Genesis forced his gut instinct reaction down and out of the way. This wasn't a fight. It wasn't even a confrontation.

Sephiroth met his gaze for just long enough for it to become almost uncomfortable, before glancing away and acknowledging Genesis' presence with a slight incline of his head.

"Genesis."

His name was said in an even yet careful tone, with just enough volume that if one were not a SOLDIER, it could almost be ignored. 

It sent a shiver down his spine. Not because it reminded him of anything that the General had done in the future, no - but to think of Cloud? The resemblance was almost uncanny, and given how things had developed back then - or whatever he wanted to call the future he had come from - the question of who do these mannerisms come from, and were they shared through Hojo's meddling, or are these two simply that similar by a freak point of nature was not particularly one that he wanted answers for.

"Angeal," Sephiroth continued, taking slow, measured steps toward him when Genesis had made no sign of saying anything in return, "strongly suggested that I pushed you beyond some limit I was unaware of in our last fight."

Genesis' eyes narrowed in response.

"If you had held back, then you would be dead, and I would be feeling insulted."

"Don't flatter yourself." Sephiroth's tone was unimpressed, but there were also hints of probing curiosity. "Your injury is still bothering you."

It wasn't, of course, a question. That was the infuriating thing about having had the same damn injury before, and for so long - he'd become used to its presence, not having had to hide it, and its current state in the present didn't leave much room for hiding it at all.

"I'll be fine, although-" he cut himself off. The urge to add although no thanks to you was strong, and he pushed that down as well. It wouldn't get him anywhere useful, and undignified though it may be, he needed useful over satisfying right now. Even if the memory of their first training room spar that had ended in disaster was now fresh in his mind, and he had still been mourning his sword even though it was now returned to him in a younger, less blemished state. "Thank you for the concern," he made himself say instead.

One of Sephiroth's eyebrow's raised slightly, but he - thankfully - did not make a point of the acknowledgement.

"Even mako does not heal everything instantaneously. Cure and Restore materia still require the patient to rest afterwards. Just because you are a high-ranking First, does not mean that you are excluded from those rules. I... look forward to sparring with you again, when you have recovered."

Hesitation like that coming from Sephiroth was the last thing that Genesis had expected coming into this conversation, but my the time he had recovered from his confused state, the only sign of the man was silver hair vanishing into the elevators.

Perhaps he was not the only one to have had Angeal talk to him, he mused as he found his way to his old office, sitting down to scrawl out a halfhearted mission report, then scrolling through his PHS' emails to refresh him on the goings-on before heading to his rooms for that much-needed shower.

It was the only reason any of that could possibly make any sense.

...

AN: Oh, Genesis. What's important to remember about our dear protagonist here, is that he's what I like to call an 'unreliable narrator'. 

Sephiroth back then (now?) really isn't that cold and uncaring toward his friends. In canon, he was rather upset and confused to be told that he couldn't donate blood for the transfusion they said Genesis needed, and that sense of empathy - although with no real people skills to back it up - is there right up until *Nibelheim*. Before the library at least, that is.