#;; nothing worth a zack (zack)

[pine-needle-shuffle]

Merry Crisis Core

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 5

Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wingman for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Ranting about Ozzy Osbourne counts as flirting, right?

5.7 words

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a/n: I wanted to get this chapter out before Flight of Icarus on Halloween. I am MILKING that preview we got for all it's worth. I want y'all to know in this chapter I am projecting HARD on what I think the book will be like and how it will affect Eddie. Also say thank you to @hellfiredarling and @crocwork-clockodile because without them, this wouldn't have gone past 2 chapters. Also shout out to @hellfiredarling for letting me borrow her OC Tara for this fic as well. 💜

WARNINGS: This chapter discusses the Ozzy Osbourne Bat Incident. Nothing is really talked about in graphic detail, but I figured I'd throw that out there, just in case.

Eddie Munson would never consider himself a homewrecker. He was a lot of things; a freak, a metal head, the occasional dealer, a musician, but never a homewrecker. 

But he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy flirting with you as Steve was right there. Steve hadn’t even made any sort of move to make it clear that you were actually on a date anyway. Eddie had expected some sort of reaction from Steve from the banter that bounced between the two of you, but he’d only sat back and watched. 

You were far too good for Harrington anyway. 

But he could have figured that out the second time the two of you had met so many years ago. You didn’t remember Eddie, and he didn’t blame you too much for that. You had been in a rough state that time, shaken up and worried out of your mind. Hell, Eddie himself could barely remember the first meeting it had been so long ago. 

He couldn’t help himself though, not when you showed an interest in his band, his club, and (he was starting to hope) him. The back and forth between the two of you had excited him. He swore (lied) to himself that he was only flirting and chatting with you to annoy Harrington, and the last thing he had expected was for you to start flirting back. It was night and day compared to Sidequest Day. Eddie completely forgot about Steve the second you mentioned WASP as a favorite band. He probably could have stood there all night, asking you how you fell into the genre, what songs you add to your mix tapes, and bragging not-so-subtly about his band and guitar skills. 

But reality always shows up, and Eddie was needed to fix the amp again. It was old and beat to hell and back, but it was all he could afford to fix. A new amp would always be out of the question unless the Hideout decided to start paying the high schoolers for their performance every week. 

He made his way to the van to grab his toolbox (Wayne’s toolbox, but he insisted that Eddie keep it in his van) when he realized that he was an idiot. Shit, he’d offered you a ride home, and he was really hoping you’d take him up on that offer, intoxicated or not. 

The back of the van was gutted, making it far easier to transport Gareth’s drum set, the amp, and all of their other equipment to their weekly gig. There was even room for two of his friends to (very illegally) sit back there while one person sat up front with him. 

Would you even want a ride home like that? Eddie had no problem forcing everyone else to ride in the back while you rode shotgun. Then it was the long ride to Gareth’s place to drop everything off, then dropping off Jeff and Zack. 

He could drop you off first, but that would defeat the purpose of offering you a ride. 

Shit. 

Whatever, he’d wing it. He’d figure out the details later after the show. Right now he had to fix the amp again and focus on the music. 

There was a moment before every show, when the janky spotlights would turn on and temporarily blind Eddie, that transported him to another world. Any time he picked up his guitar, be it his electric one or the acoustic, he could feel a charge in the air. Music was as natural as breathing to him, something that just was. 

Someone once asked Eddie, why music? Why this music? 

Because it’s fucking badass. Because it’s an escape to a different world, a different dimension. 

When Eddie played, he didn’t have to be in Hawkins. He didn’t have to be a freak. When he felt the sharp strings press into his fingers he became a Rock God. His music made him feel badass, indestructible, a fucking hero in his mind. 

During a really good show, Eddie could lose himself completely. He could imagine that there was a large crowd cheating his name, his band. The sound of his guitar screeched like a demonic bat, and he could imagine that the audience was looking through a portal to another dimension, watching as Corroded Coffin used their music to kick ass and take names. 

Eddie never thought about what it would be like to look through the other side of the portal. To look back and see someone looking at him the way he imagined it. That was, until the first song started and his eyes met yours through the near empty bar. 

There was a smile on your face, and an intense look in your eyes as you watched him play. The excitement in your eyes couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else. It was the same look that Dustin had given Eddie the first time he made the kid a mix tape, it was the look that his bandmates had when they booked their first gig ever that wasn’t some talent show or open mic night. 

It was the look Eddie had when he held a guitar for the first time. 

Sure, Eddie had fans. At least 5 people would drunkenly cheer for him on Tuesdays. They were mostly older though, blue collar workers who were reliving their youth through Corroded Coffin. Occasionally he could even have a semi-coherent conversation with them about music after the set. Not often though. The sets usually ended with high fives from the band, maybe a pat on the back and a beer slipped over to Eddie. 

The way you were smiling up at him was different though. Even with the drink in your hand you were alert and paying attention to every song and every lyric. Eddie’s voice wasn’t the most well-trained but he let his guitar do most of the work. As they worked through their set, his eyes kept falling back to you. Of course it was easy, considering the fact that you were a cute girl sitting front and center, and most of his other ‘fans’ were by the actual bar on their fourth or fifth round for the night. 

Paige had once mentioned off-handedly that he had the look and the stage presence. She’d even said that he looked good once and that was a compliment that he had ridden the high of until everything came crashing down again. When that dream disappeared along with her, Eddie had gone back to just being the Freak of Hawkins. But, fuck, when you were looking at him like that he could almost believe it again.

When the echoes of the final chord faded into the air and the portal closed, Eddie was left smiling at the one person in the bar that bothered cheering like they meant it. You. 

He took his pick and tossed it to you, and you caught it between your hands like you had with the air hockey puck just a few days ago. Eddie felt a sense of pride as your cheeks darkened, and he hoped it was because of him and not the drink you had been nursing for the past hour. Your eyes darted between him and Steve- oh right. Harrington was here too. Right. 

Eddie turned away and started helping with packing up. The sooner they got the equipment to the van the more time they would have to hang out before curfews for everyone else hit.

During the summer they had gotten away with staying out a bit later, but it was now the school year. That meant they had about twenty minutes to mingle, pack, and head out. The last thing he needed was to piss off Gareth's parents (again) and lose their place to practice. 

Eddie was already on thin ice with the parents of his bandmates and club members, except for Zack’s. He wasn’t gonna push it. 

With everything tucked securely back in his van, Eddie made his way back inside to find you.One of his regulars gave him a clap on the back for a good show and handed him a beer which he gladly accepted. He should back off, stay away when every time he’s seen you in recent memory was with Steve Harrington. But when he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the table still fiddling with the pick between your fingers and finishing off your drink he couldn’t stay away. Steve was nowhere to be found. 

“So, did you enjoy the show?” Eddie asked, taking a seat next to you. You had been lost in thought and jumped slightly. When you realized he was there, you smiled at Eddie as if he was the one person you wanted to see in all of Hawkins. 

“Holy shit, you guys are good!” You said brightly. There was the tiniest slur to your words, made noticeable by how fast you were talking. “Your amp makes a weird sound with your guitar but I don’t think that’s a bad thing and you were going so fast! How’d you get your fingers to do that?!”

Eddie laughed and had you been in a more sober state of mind he might have made some sort of dirty joke about that. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid, and I practice so much it’s second nature to me.” 

You glanced at his calloused fingers and nodded, before looking back at your own. “I don’t have the finger dexterity for that.” you said, moving your fingers around. “See? My pinkie is kind of fucked up.” You gave your fingers a wiggle and your pinkie definitely moved in a more jerky fashion than the rest of your finders. 

“It’s because you don’t use it enough.” Eddie said, grabbing your pinkie and shaking your hand around, making you laugh. “Just start playing guitar for about four hours a day until your fingers bleed and I’m sure you could fix it.”

“That sounds like a lot of work that I don’t have the passion for, so I think I’ll leave all the fingering to you-” You closed your eyes and took a very deep breath as your brain caught up to your mouth. Eddie watched in amusement as you slumped your head to the table. “Can I get a do over?” 

Despite the embarrassment you were laughing, which Eddie took as a good sign. His next move was risky, but he was going to go for it. 

“If you had a g string I could show you how to finger it.” 

“Nooooo!” you groaned through your laughter as you sat back up. “Low hanging fruit, Eddie! That was too easy!” 

“You handed that one to me on a silver platter! I don’t think I’d be allowed to play guitar anymore if I didn’t go for that joke!” Eddie said in mock offense. 

“Eddie, did you know that when you order one drink here, they actually give you three drinks in one glass?” you asked, motioning to your empty cup. “Because I did not.”

He looked over at the bar, and then back to you. “Sam’s working. Yeah, he’s pretty heavy handed with his drinks. Are you good?” 

You gave a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, I can’t drive probably but I’m not blackout wasted or anything.” There was still a slur to your words, but your eyes were still alert enough that he felt confident that you weren’t going to make any decisions that weren’t completely your own.

“So how come I’m the one who offered you a ride home and not your date?” Eddie didn’t want to bring up Harrington, but curiosity always got the better of him in one way or another. 

“Date?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before realization dawned on your face. You looked at Eddie with such intensity that it made him feel nervous for a second. “I am not dating Steve Harrington.” There was firmness in your voice. “He’s dating every other girl in Hawkins.”

“Do you... want him to be dating you?” Eddie wasn’t sure where you were going with this and he took a sip of the beer that he’d been neglecting for the past few minutes. . 

“Ew.” 

That one word had him nearly choking on his beer as it went down the wrong pipe. He made a strained sound between a cough and a laugh and you smacked him on the back a few times with concern before he waved your hand off.

“‘Ew’?” He managed to finally choke out, looking at you in disbelief. “So you’re telling me that you and Steve Harrington just happen to hang out but you aren’t dating?” 

This had to be a joke, some sort of prank where Harrington would pop out of the bathroom, throw his arm around you, and laugh at Eddie for believing for even a second that someone as cool as you was single. 

“We’re just friends and we have a kind of deal going on.” you said, messing with the ice in your empty glass. “I help him and he uh...” Eddie watched as you hesitated and your mind looked for the words. “He helps me get out of the house.”

“I thought you said coming out was your idea?” Eddie tilted his head, watching as your expression changed to one of a kid who’s hand was caught in the cookie jar. 

“I lied.” You said bluntly. “I had no idea about you playing or that you had a band or even that the Hideout had any live music ever. It was Steve’s idea.”

Eddie watched your expression carefully for any sign that you didn’t actually have feelings for Steve. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, knew better than to get his hopes up. The Munson’s weren’t exactly known for being lucky in love, and he was no different. Eddie could count on one hand the amount of times he’d had any sort of romantic connection to a girl and most of those had crumbled to dust in his hands. 

“Harrington brought you here?” He said slowly. “To get you out of the house?”

“I pretty much live at work and home.” you shrugged, sucking the last bit of moisture that had melted in the bottom of your glass. “He’s a good friend. And that’s all he is.” 

Even Eddie wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the blatant flag that you were waving over your head. 

SMACK

Two drumsticks came crashing down on the table between the two of you. Eddie didn’t even realize how close you two were getting until Gareth managed to squeeze himself between the two of you, banging his sticks rhythmically on the table. 

“Eddie we gotta go.” Gareth said. “Mom’s gonna kill me if I’m late tonight. Grandma’s visiting.”

“Shit.” Eddie muttered to himself and then looked at you. “Do you still need a ride?” 

He hoped you’d say yes. He hoped you didn’t mind his band while they all drove home so illegally. 

“I think I can’t say no.” You glanced at the drink. “Because that was waaay stronger than I expected it to be and I can alway bully Steve into helping me get my car in the morning.”

“Why was Harrington even here?” Gareth asked, looking at you with confusion. He glanced at Eddie in a questioning manner and a sharp look from Eddie shut him right up. 

“He’s my friend. He left. Said he wasn’t feeling well.” You replied nonchalantly. 

Harrington just left you drunk at a bar?! Eddie looked at you with wide eyes and his mouth hung open. What kind of bullshit friend was that? Henderson had spent so long talking up Steve Harrington, and how he was a total badass and not a dick and he left a friend drunk at a bar? He had been willing to play nice for Dustin, but any chance of that was thrown out the window. 

Eddie stood up, the chair scraping behind him as he tried (badly) to hide his frustration. “We’re giving her a ride home. She gets shotgun.” 

“What?!” Gareth protested, looking at you like you’d personally offended him. “If my parents see me get out of the back-”

“They won’t unless you plan on telling them to wait up for you.” Eddie said firmly. “She’s shotgun.”

There was a look of guilt on your face as you sat there awkwardly. “Mom, Dad, I can sit in the back or I can just stick around her for another hour with some water and I’ll sober up.” 

Eddie grabbed you by the scruff of your jacket and hauled you up quickly. “Nope, you’ve already had one person ditch you tonight. I’m not leaving you drunk in a bar alone.”

He winced internally at how roughly he’d just handled you. Eddie was so used to handling and rough housing with his club that he forgot that he shouldn’t be doing that with other people. But it was so easy with you. The few conversations you’ve had made him feel like you should have been part of Hellfire to begin with. If he ever saw Chris Morrison again, he’d deck him in his smug little nose. 

There was no time for protesting from either you or Eddie as he pushed the two of you out the door and towards his van. It was chilly out, the autumn air biting his skin as he pushed Gareth towards the back of the van. He released your jacket and stepped to open the door of the van for you. 

“After you-” He did his best to give what he hoped was a charming smile as you hopped into the van. He heard Zack mutter something in the back of his van followed by a round of snickering between his bandmates before he closed the door and hopped into the driver side seat. 

Metal came blasting out of the speakers and he fumbled to turn it down so that it didn’t blow your eardrums. 

“Wait no, turn that back up!” you said, reaching for the knob to elevate the voice of Ozzy Ozbourn as it thrummed through the van. 

“So uh, this is my new friend.” Eddie said, hating how that sounded as he tried to break the ice. 

You turned around in your seat immediately and stuck your hand in the back, introducing your name. Eddie was amazed as you wasted no time launching into how great the set was and asking a million questions as to who they were, how they started playing music. 

You weren’t shy, that was for sure. Actually the buzz you had going on made you even more interested in talking to everyone. Soon there was a lively conversation happening, enthusiastically about the tape that was playing. 

“My mom hates Ozzie.” Jeff said. “Says that he’s an animal abuser because he bit the head off that bat.”

“Everyone wants to talk about that, but no one wants to talk about how that happened!” You threw in. 

“What do you mean?” shot back Gareth. “With his fucking teeth!” 

“That’s not what I meant, Dingus!” you snorted. “Where do you think the bat came from?” 

Eddie gave pause and slowed his driving down just a touch. He was already going slow to avoid any cops out, but you had asked a question that he’d never even considered. 

The question gave pause to everyone as they looked at each other with confused shrugs. 

“I thought he just pulled it out of his pants.” Said Zack 

“His pants?!” 

“Why would he keep a bat in his pants?!”

“To pull it out and bite the head off of it, duh!”

“Where else would he keep a bat?”

“I don’t know, a cage?!”

The conversation was delving into chaos and Eddie could see you grinning out of the corner of his eye as you watched them squabble amongst themselves. 

“Maybe it just flew in?” Eddie threw that out there, wishing that he didn’t have to be driving so that he could focus on the mischievous glint in your eyes. 

“It was a closed auditorium, actually.” You smiled at him. “I highly doubt that a bat is just gonna fly into a random building filled with screaming people.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just a random building. It’s a building where Black Sabbath was playing.” Eddie laughed, glancing between you and the road. “Maybe it was a metal fan.”

“Not anymore.” 

“Jesus, Zack” 

“Alright, I’ll bite-”

“The head off a bat?”

“No! Okay, so you clearly know what happened so just spit it out!”

“Like Ozzy did with the bat head?”

“ENOUGH!” Eddie yelled out, hitting the breaks just enough to make the van jerk and you all to have his attention. You laughed as he resumed normal driving, thankful that it was almost 10 pm on a Tuesday night and the roads were dead and empty. “Let her talk.”

The van went quiet after a few apologies and you reached over to turn down the radio. 

“Alright, so,” you started. “I’m just gonna start from the beginning and if you all hear me rant about this once, you’ll probably hear me rant about it a hundred times in the future because this is my go-to drunk rant.” 

You glance at Eddie, and he could see the excitement in your eyes that you got to talk about this with fresh people who would actually appreciate it. 

“So we’ve established that this was a closed auditorium that he was playing in, and this wasn’t planned at all.” you continued. “So the question everyone needs to ask is where the fuck this bat came from. Everyone always talks about it like he reached up and grabbed a random bat out of the air and ate it whole but that’s not what happened. What happened is that a fan threw the bat on stage- mind you, he has no reason to believe that it’s a real bat. He thinks it’s a rubber bat! Who in their right mind would think that someone would throw a real bat on stage?”

“Isn’t Ozzy on every drug ever?” Jeff asked from the back. 

You turned around in your seat to look at him, your finger extended. “You... are absolutely correct and make a very valid point. That aside though, let’s think about this. What kind of person managed to get a live bat, sneak it into a concert, and get close enough to the stage to throw it at Ozzy?”

They were pulling up into Gareth’s neighborhood now, and Eddie drove under the speed limit, stopping fully at every stop sign just to prolong this time together. He was fully invested in the excitement and passion in your voice as you told this story. 

“Who was it?” Eddie asked. 

“Get this- a seventeen year old high school girl.” You said. “A fucking junior in high school, managed to get a live bat, sneak it in, and throw it at Ozzy! That’s insane, right?!”

“What?!”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I have absolutely no clue!” you laughed. “The two interviews I read about it didn’t talk about who she was or anything. They just talked about how Ozzy saw the bat and didn’t realize it was alive until he took a bite! It’s actually kind of fucked up, and Ozzy did not deserve that but holy shit right?”

Eddie pulled into Gareth’s parent’s driveway, and everyone in the back went into band mode as Gareth immediately hopped out of the back and hoped that his parents weren’t watching. You moved back in your set and glanced at Eddie who had to pretend he wasn’t staring a hole into the side of your head. 

“Need any help?” you offered. 

He shook his head, “Just hang tight while we unpack. It’ll only take a second.” 

The boys made quick work of unpacking the drum set and rearranging the back so that the remaining two club members could more comfortably fit for the final leg home. Thankfully Jeff and Zack didn’t live too far from each other. You stayed in the van, zoning out pleasantly to the end of the tape. 

In the garage, Eddie was getting roasted. 

“So now you’re taking home girls after shows, Eddie?” Jeff asked with a shit-eating grin. 

“Next time warn us so we can get a different ride.” grumbled Gareth. 

“She seems nice.” Zack added. 

“Look, it was a last minute thing and she was left alone and drunk in a bar.” Eddie tried to explain as they put up the drum kit. 

“So the only girl you can get is a drunk girl?” ribbed Jeff. 

“A drunk girl who was ditched by a jock- ow!” Gareth rubbed his arm where Eddie had socked him. 

“I told you, it was a last minute thing.” Eddie said more firmly, narrowing his eyes at Gareth. “I’m just making sure she gets home safe.” 

“Wasn’t she also at the arcade last Saturday?” Jeff asked. “Weird how she keeps showing up.”

“If it means we get someone else watching our band, who cares? She liked the set and we need the support.” Zack added. “Night Gareth”

“Night.” Gareth said before closing the garage door. 

They all made their way back into the van, just in time for the cassette to be spat back out for you to flip it over and push play again. The drive to drop off the remaining two members was quieter, as the school day plus the set caught up to them. Eddie was still wired, and he was looking forward to having a joint when he got home to calm himself after everything that had happened tonight. 

When the van was just the two of you, and you gave him directions to your small apartment, there was a comfortable silence between you. Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye at a red light, taking in the way your eyes were closed and your lips were upturned as you soundlessly mouthed the words to the song playing. 

“So, where’d you get your tattoos?” you asked after a few minutes. 

Eddie grinned. “Why? Are you looking to get some ink done?”

“Well, the last time I checked tattooing was illegal in Indiana.” you replied, glancing at the colony of bats flying up his arm. “So have you ever left the state or should I be concerned about whatever shady basement you visit to get those?”

He scrunched his face and blew a raspberry. “Don’t worry about the legalities, are you gonna tell Hopper on me?”

“Scratcher tattoos?” you frowned. “You are so lucky that those didn’t get infected.”

“She did it as a favor for me, she wasn’t some sketchy dude I met in a bar.” Eddie said defensively. “Her name’s Tara, she moved her from California where tattooing is legal, and she’s still technically licensed.” 

“Just not for Indiana.” 

“Not even a little.” he laughed. “But I helped her and she repaid me with these sweet ol’ tatties.”

You snorted into your hand at his verbiage. “How many you got?”

“Three on my arm and two on my chest. I got my first about three months after I turned eighteen when Tara moved in.” He explained. 

“Damn, and here I am looking at leaving the state to get something done legally like some sort of square.” You laughed. 

“So you are looking for some!” Eddie pulled into the parking lot you pointed to, right outside your building. 

“What can I say, I’m a rebel at heart. I shouldn’t be telling you this but I did jaywalk last week.” You smiled up at him, not bothering to move yet from the passenger side seat. 

“Jaywalking? Shit, and here I thought you were a quiet goody two shoes.” He shook his head. “I think you’re gonna be a terrible influence on me.”

“The worst.” you agreed. 

There was a silence that seemed to crackle with the old stereo. Eddie’s eyes met yours and he felt something that he hadn’t felt in almost two years. 

Oh.

Oh shit.

Flashes of his first senior year raced through his mind as he felt something begin again. He would have hoped that when he felt that jolt in his stomach again he’d be alright. Eddie looked at you, his mind racing a million miles per hour over what to do now. 

He had to get out of there. 

You were reaching out for him, shit- he wasn’t ready. Your hand was reaching across for his and gripped it, pulling it towards you. You were making a move and-

Pop

The sound of a maker’s cap reached his ears. Eddie felt the tip of the felt glide over the skin of his forearm, the temporary ink sinking into his skin and spelling out your name and phone number. 

Jesus Christ. What the fuck was that about?

“We should hang out again, on purpose.” you said, putting the marker back in your bag. 

Eddie’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded. Fuck, he needed a joint now. “Fifth time’s a charm.” he said. 

Without another word you gave him a wave and hopped out of the car, towards your unit. He watched to make sure you made it inside before smacking his head against the steering wheel as the night replayed in his mind. 

Sweet ol’ tatties?

Freaking out when he thought you might kiss him?

He knew that everything that happened two years ago would have an effect on him. Anyone who was close to Eddie knew the toll it took on him. He’d always been cynical, but ‘84 changed something deeper. 

Eddie didn’t want that to affect you. 

But he looked at the dried dark green ink on his arm with a sigh. “Dammit.” he muttered to himself before pulling out. 

He shouldn’t drag you into his problems. He should turn around and leave it at that- just four meetings between the two of you. Four odd, awkward, and admittedly nice meetings. 

The fifth meeting was inevitable. 

---

“So, I think you need to leave, Steve.” you said as you watched Corroded Coffin pack up their instruments. 

“Wait, what?” he looked at you with wide eyes, glancing down at the guitar pick that you were fiddling with between your thumb and forefinger. The smooth plastic and the slightly sharper edge had a nice contrasting feeling as you played with it. 

“Steve, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I do. But I think if you stick around I’m gonna lose this chance.” 

“You’re really gonna go for it? For him?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” You watched the man on stage and gulped down the last of your drink. It was a bit stronger than expected and you had a nice buzz happening, but nothing alarming. You could easily hang out for another hour with some water and some pretzels and be perfectly fine to drive home if needed. But playing it up just a little wouldn’t hurt, would it? It had definitely loosened you up and relaxed you enough that you were starting to feel excited about talking to Eddie again. 

“How sober are you?” Steve glanced at the drink and back at you. “I need to know that you’re of sound mind and body before I leave you alone with some guy we barely know.”

“Awww, look at you caring about me.” you teased and pinched his cheek as he swatted your hand away. “If Dustin vouches for him, I’ll trust the kid’s judgment. And I’m fine, the worst I’ll do is run my mouth worse than normal and rant about things you won’t understand.”

“How’s that different from normal?”

“Ha ha. Okay, seriously. I love you, but you’re cockblocking me.” 

“Okay, okay I’m going, sheesh.” he stood up. “This is the thanks I get for introducing you to a guy.”

“Did you, or did you not get laid at least four times since we started this?” 

“Don’t forget to use protection.”

“Thanks Mom.” 

---

You liked Eddie’s friends, you decided. They were just as weird and loud and rowdy as you expected a bunch of high school boys to be. Gareth kept challenging you every few sentences, but the conversation didn’t feel as awkward as you were worried it’d be after being manhandled to Eddie’s van. Maybe even if this didn’t work out, you could at least be friends with them. 

And when the band was dropped off, it was just you and Eddie in his van. Talking to him was easy, almost as easy as it was to talk to Steve. You never had anything to prove to the jock, and you wished that you could feel the same about Eddie. You wanted him to like you, you wanted him to like you so much. 

Eddie parked and there was a charge in the air that made your stomach flutter. For the past two months you’d actually avoided moving ahead with Steve’s end of the bargain. As much as you wanted companionship, putting yourself out there was scary. But when you were next to Eddie, making small talk, awkwardly flirting, and screaming about music it wasn’t as scary. 

You wanted to move forward. 

You wanted to know him, and get out of this damn rut of home and work and little else. You were tired of hearing about everyone else living while you just coasted. 

So you decided to go for it. You wished you had grabbed a napkin from the bar, but all you had in your bag was an old green sharpie that you were praying still worked. You reached for his arm and you jotted down your name and phone number, putting the ball firmly in his court. You’d made your move, and now it was his turn. 

“We should hang out. On purpose.” you said, releasing him. 

“Fifth time’s a charm.” Eddie said. 

You gave a wave and made your way back to your small one bedroom apartment. As you dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, that’s when you realized something. 

Today. Saturday. That was-

You looked down at your hand and put down two fingers. 

“What did he mean, five?!”

--

Part 6

Dividers by @strangergraphics

A/n: Drop a comment of what you'd want to see Reader get as a tattoo and I might add it later. See you all on the other side of Flight of Icarus.

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1083 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistook @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119

Please reblog 💜

[kissami]

☄︎. *. ⋆ PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME SO ALONE •°. *࿐

➵ in which cloud needed a reality check before it’s too late.

➵fem!reader with she/her pronouns!

➵ warnings: OOC cloud ??? jealously, mentions of aerith and zack, NOT PROOF READ BECAUSE IM LAZY LOL

‎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

‎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ‎ Pearls~ Sade

‎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 0:20 〇────── 4:33

‎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⇄   ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹   ↻

‎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀VOLUME: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

‎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀‎ ‎ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Cloud never felt such confusion and heartache until this very moment that he was sitting in Seventh Heaven, drinking to his heart content.

Why did she leave me so alone?

He felt his hand itch towards his pocket, his phone that had her picture as his lock screen that he remembered taking when the two left Midgard for a small trip to watch the stars for the first time, had showed no notifications from anyone.

I miss her.

He thought as he chugged down the last remaining sips of his drink. He looked up, making eye contact with Tifa, his eyes pleading for another.

“I’m cutting you off tonight, Cloud. I can’t stand seeing you mope around like this anymore. You need to talk to her.”

He wanted to stubbornly say no and say he would do it later, that he just wanted to relax and drink to really think of what to do, but he knew she deserved better.

A better explanation, a better boyfriend even. But he was selfish. He was so selfish to leave the way he did and still wanting her back in his arms right after.

“I…I can’t…she hates me.” He whispered, playing with the red string on his arm as it seemed rather interesting now that his best friend had her attention on him.

“You know [Y/N] better than all of us, Cloud. You know she would never hate you no matter what you do. Bless that girls heart because she has more patience than anyone I’ve known.”

Cloud knew she was right, tifa always was as annoying as it was.

But yet, he still felt embarrassed, insecure, and scared that if he went back home, this would be it, that this was the end of the two.

“[Y/N] told me what you did. You’re a mean loser who deserves to sleep on the streets tonight.” Yuffie huffed as she juggled around three materia orbs in her small hands.

“I didn’t mean it.” He tried to explain, but his friends glances were all he needed to know to really fix things up before everything became worse.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t meet you so soon after her.”

He felt his chest ache and his eyes burn as he remembered those veil words escape his mouth earlier that day.

The two were arguing about god knows what, it was a pointless argument but you were so head on to stay talking about the situation instead of walking away like he would do, you really wanted to resolve this.

But he wouldn’t listen and you felt like you were talking to a brick wall.

You rather a brick wall than having to hear that sentence leave his lips.

You rather not ever hear a response from him again than ever feel the way you did the moment he yelled at you the way he did.

“For what it’s worth, Cloud. Y/N, truly loves you. Nothing would ever make her hate you, no matter how much sometimes we wish she did…maybe there would be someone who would truly love and appreciate her kindness.” Tifa bit her lip at Reno’s sincere words, everyone knew he what he said was honest from his heart.

Cloud knew it as well, which made him clench his jaw even harder.

Yuffie groaned, glaring at the red head as he shrugged, but everyone knew why he was pushing Cloud this way.

‘Just a little closer to the edge and he’ll jump.’

“I wonder how Zack would react with you crushing not only on his dead girlfriend, but being so hung up on her that you’re abandoning your own. I’d be embarrassed to even be mentioned in the same sentence if I were him.”

“You bastard!” Tifa made a small squeak as all the drinks on the bar were splashed away, a frail body now taking their places as the blond held a deathly grip on the turk’s neck.

“Cloud!” Everyone yelled, trying to get his steel grip on Reno off, but he wasn’t giving up just yet.

“Hurts doesn’t it? Words cloud, words hurt.” The two stared at each other, trying to beat the other from the harsh glares the two were piercing one another with. Usually Reno would back off rather quickly, joking around how serious Cloud looked.

But cloud was the one to look away this time. No words came from him as he picked up his buster sword, ignoring everyone’s concerned looks as he walked out of Seventh Heaven and into the cold night.

He grimaced as he saw his apartment that he lived with his girlfriend up ahead. No lights shinning like they usually would, the curtains drawn and no noises were heard. You could hear a pen drop from how quiet it was.

That scared him.

Cloud quickly unlocked the door, frowning as it already was unlocked when he knew [Y/N] and how she’d always lock the door after she came in or out, paranoid of the possibilities that could happen.

He almost lost his balance as he saw all of her clothes thrown all over the place, her shoes in the mix as well.

He walked slowly, gripping his sword tightly and made his way to their shared room. He couldn’t think straight, scared something or someone had taken her away from him once again.

But he felt a sense of relief when he heard sobs and sniffles coming inside yet his heart was aching at the same time.

Knocking on the the door slowly, Cloud felt his heart beat going faster than usual, hearing the way it gotten quiet all of a sudden.

“Go away, asshole.”

Ignoring her words, Cloud opened the door gently, his eyes immediately falling on her form that was sitting next to the window, the moon looming over her as her crystal like tears illuminated in the moonlight.

She looked so pretty when she cries.

Cloud placed his things down, making his way over. He felt his hands begin to shake as he gently picked her up and placed her on his lap.

A tight yet soft grip was launched onto her waist when she tried getting up, but to no luck she was staying put.

“Please just listen to me, okay? I want to apologize to you, baby.” He placed his cheek onto hers, feeling the tears that streamed down her face onto his as he held her and he continued.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for saying such hurtful things. I’m so glad I met you when I did. I said that out of anger, out of frustration and you didn’t deserve that. It was so wrong of me.”

He felt his own tears brim his eyes as he spoke and felt her form pausing as she took everything in.

“What Aerith and I had…it’s over and done with. Even if she…even if she was alive right now, deep in my heart I know I’d still fall for you. I’d go through that pain all over again just to be able to see a glance of you for just a second even if it meant you’d never would’ve been mine. You make everything worth fighting for and I’m so sorry.”

No words were spoken for a good while, but Cloud cried as he felt her sob in his neck, wrapping her arms around him as she faced his front in the chair they both sat on.

“You’re such a jerk.”

“I know baby, I know I am.” He moved her hair out of the way as he looked deep in her eyes, taking every crevice on her pretty face that he would never get tired of looking at.

“I love you, so much. Please don’t hate me.” A soft chuckle escaped her mouth and her head shook in disagreement.

“I could never hate you, Cloud. No matter the circumstances I could and never will hate you.”

[rottenpumpkin13]

AGSZC learn about the fact you can pinch people if they aren’t wearing Green on March 17th. (Whether or not they know why would depend on if they have an equivalent of saints in their world)

How does the chaos unfold? Who pranks another first?

*It starts when Reno sees Sephiroth minding his own business, not wearing green. He decides to try his luck, walks up behind him and pinches his side*

Sephiroth: Why are you pinching me?

Reno: You're not wearing green. It's St. Patrick's day. You're allowed to pinch people who aren't wearing green on St. Patrick's day.

Sephiroth: I had no idea.

Reno: Yeah, it's how you celebrate.

Sephiroth: You mean to say that if someone isn't adhering to the rules of March 17th and wearing the color green, you must punish them physically for disrespecting St. Patrick.

Reno:

Sephiroth:

Reno: This is why I don't talk to you people.

-

*Cloud is coming back from an assignment when Sephiroth appears out of nowhere—wearing a green shirt—and starts thwacking him with a broomstick*

Cloud: ACK.

Sephiroth: You're not wearing green. You have disgraced us all.

Cloud, confused: But sir—ow! My scarf—ow! My scarf is green!

*Sephiroth checks his uniform scarf, which is indeed green*

Sephiroth:

Cloud:

Sephiroth: No one will ever believe you.

*Sephiroth walks away with the broomstick*

-

*Angeal sits on a couch in the SOLDIER lounge after a hard day. He settles down with a copy of his favorite gardening magazine and a sandwich*

Angeal: Lazard had a point. I never take time off for myself. Why do I feel so guilty? It's not like a malicious, punishing hand will appear whenever I try to relax.

*Sephiroth pops up from behind the couch and starts choking Angeal*

Angeal: !

Sephiroth: There is nothing honorable about refusing to wear green on St. Patrick's day.

Angeal: !?

Sephiroth: You sicken me.

-

*Zack is whistling as he pushes open the door to the showers*

....

*Zack runs back out screaming. Sephiroth chases after him with a flamethrower*

Sephiroth: WHY WON'T ANYONE WEAR GREEN?

-

*Genesis steps off the elevator, Sephiroth is standing there with a bucket of green paint to throw at him*

Genesis: Ah-ah!

*Genesis points at his green earring*

Sephiroth:

Genesis: You thought I wouldn't be prepared, didn't you? You underestimated me, thinking me a fool, a careless heathen who would be bested by you once more.

Sephiroth:

Genesis: How does it feel to be wrong? Will this sensation suffice to keep you warm tonight, or must you burn your last bit of dignity too?

Sephiroth:

Genesis: I've waited for this blessed day ever since I made your acquaintance. I've been patient. The wait was long and arduous but I knew it would come.

Sephiroth:

Genesis: And now that we're here, I must say, it was well worth it. I win, Sephiroth. But please, don't let the light of glory that bathes my body blind you.

Sephiroth:

Sephiroth: You idiot. That's not even green, it's teal.

*Sephiroth throws the bucket of paint at him*

[ravi-deactivated]

𝙫𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

featuring: zack foster

cw: praise kink, light degradation, choking, slapping, established relationship, love confessions and stuff, afab reader

18+ content - MDNI

Validation is something Zack never got in his life. And when he tasted it for the first time, he became addicted.

The feeling, the sound of being praised feels like a god damn drug to him, better than hunting, better than his knife between his fingers, better than killing.

Nothing feels better than being told how good he is at what he's doing. That no one can ever be above him.

It overshadows the voice in the back of his head that whispers to him how false that is, that it's simple make believe, the only lie he dares to love.

Because it's your lie, your voice that tells him how good he feels, that you love what he's doing to you, love how he makes you feel. When you say it, it almost makes him believe that he is worth something.

You whine and moan as he buries himself inside of you over and over again, fast and hard enough that he's sure it must hurt at some point.

But you don't tell him to stop, don't look like you need a break.

So he continues, gets more rough when he wraps his hand around your neck and thrusts himself as deep as possible into you, watches your eyes roll back.

He gets drunk off the sight, but seeing how good you feel because of him isn't enough. He craves your voice, wants to hear your beautiful lies, needs words of confirmation.

“You like being fucked like this, huh? Love it how deep I can fuck myself into your little cunt?”

His voice is hoarse and gasping, his eyes clouded with lust as he looks down at you, feels you swallow beneath the grip of his fingers, his lower body fluttering at the way your body sucks him in.

“Yes, fuck- it feels so good- you feel so good inside of me.”

Your words make him hiss, turn him on even more and without really realizing it, he squeezes your neck harder, almost takes your air to breathe.

The urge to destroy you waves through him, to end you first before he himself crumbles to helpless pieces beneath your gaze.

Because you have so much power over him that the simplest look, the faintest scent and sound is enough to make his knees go weak.

With a desperate groan, he changes a bit of his angle, puts your legs against his shoulders and leans forward to get closer to your face, never slowing his pace as he folds you in half.

The new angle makes him slide even deeper into you and you yell out his name, helpless, breathless moans leaving your lips.

He loves how you say his name. You saying it almost makes him like it, almost makes him like a part about himself.

While he leans his nose against yours, his fingers still around your neck, heat collecting between your bodies, he almost loses himself in your eyes, loses himself in their tears and the wide, obedient look they give him.

God, he is so in love. With you, with your eyes, your body, the feeling you give him.

And he wants to hear you say how much you love him back.

“You love my cock, right? Tell me how much you love it to be fucked by my cock, little bitch.”

You part your lips to answer, to give him exactly what he wants, but when he gives your neck another desperate squeeze, you just manage to gasp.

Before you're able to answer, his hand is gone from your neck and lightly hits your cheek, not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough to leave a stinging feeling that goes straight to your lower body, makes it boil even more than before.

A satisfied moan leaves your mouth and you have to bite your lower lip to suppress the happy grin that dares to form on your lips.

His hand is back around your throat, squeezing harder than before.

“Say it, fucking say it” he hisses against your lips again, a shadow hanging over his already dark gaze.

Oh, how happy you are to give him what he wants.

“I love your cock so much, Zack. It's so good.”

You think to sense the shiver of pleasure that's running down his spine, the way he bites his lip and looks down at you with nothing but pure, helpless lust written in his eyes is enough proof of it.

While he licks through the corner of his mouth, he pulls back a bit slower than before, slowing his pace a little, while his movements keep their harsh and deep kind.

He immediately sees the effect of his thrusts when you let out a loud whine and rise your hands to find a hold at his shoulders, nails digging through the bandages right into his skin.

“Shit, you're so deep inside of me-”

You want to lean forward to push a kiss against his lips, but before you are able to, he pulls back, hand still wrapped around your throat, his weight resting on his knees and his thrusts unwavering as he suddenly allows his other hand to hover over your clit.

When he starts massaging your centre, your back arches off the bed, a loud, surprised moan coming from your throat.

You wrap your fingers around his hand between your legs, give him a begging gaze to wait, uncertain if you crave a relieving end or more of his deep, filling thrusts.

“Wait- I'm coming- Zack-”

Instead of waiting or slowing, the pressure of Zack's finger only increases and the trained circles he draws over the sensitive spot send you to heaven, make you throw your head back.

“Yes, go ahead, come on my cock like the little bitch you are” he breathes out with a shaky voice, fingers trembling around your throat and squeezing a little harder to send you over the edge.

It's all he has to do to make you come undone with a loud whine and while you grab his hand to stop the overstimulation, the fingers of your other hand once more dig into his skin, rip off a part of the bandages, make it hang loose around his arm where it reveals the burned skin beneath.

Even though your eyes plead him to slow down or give you a break, he decides against it, picks up his pace again and leaves you a whimpering, moaning mess.

His mess. The result of him, his touch, his love.

The thought almost makes him come and with a frustrated growl, his fingers grab your throat a little harder again, push you back into the mattress while he leans forward to rest the tip of his nose against yours.

“I love you, fuck, I really love you. You do too, don't you? You love me, right?”

His words are nothing more than a brabbled mess in a cloud of pleasure, almost too many for you to really understand in your high, euphoric state.

Your mind is nothing but starry ecstasy embedded in cozy fog, but you manage to get the words out because you know how much he wants to hear them, how much he deserves to hear them.

Because he's everything to you and you hate how he doubts that sometimes.

You nod quickly, tears in your eyes as you look up at him.

“I love you, I love you so much, Zack.”

No matter how much the words would gross him out usually, it's different with you. Coming from you, it's the most wonderful thing he has ever heard, the thing that heals the deep wound inside of him that he never knew how to soothe before meeting you.

Your words kill him, in a soft, beautiful way and he feels his heart skip a beat, feels warmth seeping through his chest.

His breath is heavy against your lips as he loosens his hand from your throat and rests his weight on one arm next to your body, while he places the other one on your hip, holds you in place as he thrusts into you for the last few times.

“You're so warm. So fucking warm and soft for me, so good, only for me-”

He interrupts himself with a desperate moan, his hips pushing against yours in an almost painful way.

No matter how deeply he moves into you, he craves to crash more of both your limits, eventually becomes frustrated because no words, no touch or action could really show how much he loves, craves, worships you.

“You're mine, only mine, fuck-”

His words get lost in a loud groan, one he barely has enough breath for and his hips twitch against yours as his nails dig into your skin, hold you in place as he comes inside of you, paints your insides white like he wants to leave a mark of himself there forever, to leave an undeniable reminder of his love.

His body trembles and shivers beneath exhaustion and relief and at some point, you ignore the heat between the two of you to put your arms around his neck, enjoy his scent and warmth as he gently leans his head against your shoulder.

“I'm all yours, Zack, All yours” you mumble into his ear, feel him shiver in excitement beneath your lips.

[simpforwebtoonmen]

to be proven wrong || Daniel x reader

where fem!reader is underestimated because of her gender.

warnings/notes: Daniel is bit misogynistic but grows out of it, reader is female, platonic. This was in my drafts for months so here you go.

-

“Let me-“ “no, you let me handle this,” Daniel puts an arm up in front of you to keep you from moving forward with the fight. You only scoffed, “whatever dude, don’t go crying for my help when you start getting your ass beat.” He rolled his eyes but moved forward toward his two opponents. They seemed strong and you were pretty sure Daniel won’t be able to take them both in a fight.

And as the fight when on, you were proven correct. Daniel was weak against their duo attacks, now being held back by one of them as the other beat him.

Finally, you stepped up, running up and jumping as you used both feet to kick one of them to the side. One went flying and before he could get back up, you beat him into an unconscious state. At that point, Daniel was also done with his opponent as he laid on the floor unconscious.

You thought what you did was a good thing, but apparently not as Daniel strides up to you with an obvious frown on his face. “I told you I would handle it,” he growled, his face inches away from yours. Now you were confused, “What? you were getting your ass handed to you! I think what you meant to say was ‘thank you’” you corrected, crossing your arms over your chest and frowned. He groaned and walked away, deciding that arguing with you wasn’t worth it.

You were confused. If you hadn't helped him he could've been hurt badly.

You ran ahead and stood in front of him to keep him from walking any further. At this point, you were fueling with anger. "You know, if it was Zack or Jay that came to your rescue, you would’ve thanked them and probably would’ve kissed them or something! But for some reason, it’s a problem when I do it! Why!?” You demanded.

“Because Zack and Jay are different from you, okay?!” he angrily responded. His jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed with anger and frustration He’s never been truly angry with you, let alone any of his other friends.

You suppose you were different from his other friends.

You nodded as if you understood, but truly you were even more confused. What makes you any different from the rest of his friends? “Okay…” you said in a hushed tone.

His anger began to lift as he observed your sad expression. He began to feel bad because he knew his reasons were petty. And as much as he hated discriminating against appearances, he just hated that you, a women that looks nothing like a fighter, might be a better fighter than he is. It made him salty and somewhat enraged, and he took it out on you. He didn’t know the specifics of it though. So in hopes that maybe you’d somehow understand, he told you the truth. “It’s because I hated the thought of you being just as strong as me, maybe even stronger…I don’t know why I hate it, but I do.”

Silence followed. Then a small laugh. “Does it have anything to do with me being a woman? Do you hate that a woman is about as strong as you? No, not even that, you probably hate that I am actually capable of handling myself instead of being someone's damsel in distress, is that it? Wow, talk about fragile masculinity.”

Daniel wasn’t able to utter a word afterwards, because you were right. And he felt incredibly guilty for feeling this way about you. And it wasn’t until you told him to “go fuck yourself” that he realized just how much he fucked up.

-

There was a knock on your front door. You stood up from the couch after pausing the film you were watching and opened the door. On the other side, you saw Daniel, little Daniel, though he wasn’t very small anymore. And of course, you knew of his two bodies (because plot and what y/n doesn’t know about his two bodies).

Usually, you’d be stoked to see him. But after your last interaction months ago, you haven’t found it in yourself to forgive him. Not after hearing how much of a hypocrite he was. You and him both knew that what he said that day was an entirely new low for him.

So, you sighed and leaned against your door frame, “may I help you?” you questioned him like he was the biggest bother to you. He only looked down in, what you could assume, shame. “(name),” he started, “can we talk?” he asked hesitantly.

And because he asked so nicely and looked like a kicked puppy, you accepted.

Now the two of you sat at a random swing set at an empty park. “What did you want to talk about?” you asked. “I,” he paused, “I want you to join my new crew.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “huh? crew? You have a crew now?” you were shocked. You were pretty sure Daniel hated crews and gangs and whatnot.

“Yeah, we’re called The Allied,” he perked up, his mood lifting just a bit. You hummed, “hmm, and why do you want me to join your crew?” you asked, interested in his answer, well, interested to see if he’s changed his views at all.

“Well…you’re one of the strongest fighters I know. And I’d just really love it if I had my best friend by my side again.”

“So, you’re no longer angry at the fact that I, a woman, is a strong fighter?”

“Of course not! I-I’ve grown out of that! I am…no longer the little boy you knew…”

You disguised your cringe by squinting, looking him up and down before laughing, “pfft, yeah right! Still look pretty little to me!"

[tsukiiro]

Final Fantasy VII Rebirth: Gold Saucer date spoilers below

Something I noticed after watching the following part of the scene.

After Cloud asks Tifa about her talking to Aerith, she replies with "Not yet". Then, the camera changes position instead of staying in the same place which I thought was kind of weird. Watching Japanese version of the scene made me think there's more to Cloud's question than meets the eye!

Of course I do think there were multiple reasons why he asked, e.g.:

they're finally alone so he can ask Tifa without anyone interferring and he probably remembers Tifa wanted to keep this between them, as she asked in Nibelheim)

he wanted to break the silence and since he's not the best conversionalist he chose a this topic

But I believe he might have also used the topic to investigate Tifa's feelings. It seems like he wanted to say something since when they got onto the gondola and now he can try to steer the subject towards their bond/relationship.

In English version he says:

Notice how the camera changes position so that when Cloud starts talking about feelings, it shows Tifa in the foreground.

[It can mean lots of different things e.g. us not seeing Tifa's face might be a visual metaphor of "she doesn't want to tell him the real reason for not speaking with Aerith because it'd hurt him and his mental state would get worse". So this camera angle might be a way of telling the audience that there are still some issues between Cloud and Tifa which need to be resolved but it's not the right time to do it now as they can't be 100% honest with each other - Tifa can't share her memories which contradict with those of Cloud's and he can't access his true memories because of what's happening to him due to Sephiroth's control (among other things). But I digress.]

Now, let's take a look at Japanese version.

He says "I wonder if [she] still likes [him]." but since pronouns are not necessary in Japanese language, unless given context, we don't know who's the subject and object of the sentence. If this sentence was taken out of the context and asked out of the blue, you could interpret it as "I wonder if you still like me".

Only after a short moment he adds another sentence to explain what he meant by liking. To translate it literally he says: "Aerith, about Zack". So he provides information about sentence subject (Aerith) and sentence object (Zack).

I know that it's how Japanese people talk and they sometimes add more context after the sentence is formed as if they remembered what they wanted to say. I know there's nothing special about Cloud's way of speaking, but camera work here draws your attention to it, as if it wanted you to think about Cloud's intention behind his words. It also seems like he's expecting some kind of reply and what Tifa replies with doesn't seem to go according to his plan. He looks confused and you could tell there might be plenty other reasons behind it (and I do believe there are like e.g. Cloud who doesn't understand what other reason, beside it being a touchy subject, Tifa might have to not talk with Aerith), but the flow of conversation tells me Cloud wanted to be "subtle" by starting a topic related to love/feelings and it backfired.

I'm not saying he didn't want to know if Tifa told Aerith about his memories related to Zack. Of course he did. But we need to also look at the romantic undertones of the gondola date, especially since Cloud acted as if he wanted to say something to Tifa, which is a nice twist to Tifa's GS date from the original game, where she was the one who tried to confess.

I may be wrong but it's interesting how camera and spoken lines relate to each other and create an opening for various interpretations. It's definitely worth taking a closer look at this scene as it presents Cloud and Tifa's dynamic in different shades and forms.

[prismaticpichu]

POTENTIAL (spoiler free) HOT TAKES; DO NOT TOUCH STOVE 🔥

~

As I continue to scarf down Rebirth food like a rabid chimpanzee, I’m starting to come to an interesting realization:

I think I discovered a new reason as to why I love CC so much among the compilation. And that is bc it is debatably the easiest content in all of the 7 series to follow/digest. Don’t get me wrong- the writing is still messy and holey and did throw a bit of a wrench into pre-established canon. But chopping all of that off and looking at the game for what it is…? Idk! It’s not too rough to swallow. We have our steady main character who we see develop/grow tragically jaded, we have a villain we relatively follow till the end, we have our side character who we also see progress/regress/however you wanna put Seph’s cheese falling off the cracker. The only really boggler in the plot imo is admittedly Angeal, with his wishy-washy good guy-bad-guy conscience, but his sole presence is still not enough to completely muddy the story if you ask me. CC’s still a fun and memorable and enjoyable ride, and the plot beats are easy to process and hit just as hard as any other game in the compilation.

Now, OBV, Crisis Core has some canonical reasons for being more linear and objective: this is technically the “real” story, with Zack’s memories and all, and so it’s freed from all that ambiguity and haziness of Cloud’s journey in OG. But at the same time……. that’s kinda my point, lol? Like, again, don’t get me wrong- on one hand, og does a phenomenal job in creating tension and uncertainty and capturing Cloud’s identity crisis by making scrambled eggs out of his memories. But on the other hand, it’s also… a taaaadd much? Like to the point where it’s nearly impossible to actually understand the story on the first go. And there’s nothing wrong with it taking a few playthroughs to fully grasp things! It adds a sense of replayability. But if you don’t have that kinda patience, the whole thing can be a tad frustrating and confusing. And, idk, Ig my point is that Remake/Rebirth kinda falls into this same trap. The games are such, such, SUCH a fun ride (really! <33), but boy do I feel like I’m untangling tangled earbud wires trying to understand some of the game- especially in the homestretch. It’s just a real big meaty sandwich to swallow, and it can be a bit overwhelming lmao. Not to the point where it ruins its enjoyability- cause again, the story’s mainly a blast- but it’s admittedly hard to get 110% immersed in the world when I’m left trying to actively break down what’s going on. I won’t go into any specific details for spoiler reasons, tho I’m sure y’all understand from Remake alone where most of the confusion lies/in which elements.

The last thing I wanna do is be too negative tho. Needless to say these games and franchise is incredibly special to me, and I adore so much about Rebirth so far. The character interactions are near perfection, the stakes have never ever been higher, and there is soooooooooooo much to explore!! <33 And it’s also prolly worth mentioning that I’ma person who gets confused VERY easily lol. So it’s very possible that I’m struggling more than usual to grasp everything, and it’s creating some skewed judgment. But I thought it was worth sharing my thoughts regardless.

Thx for listening to my ramblings! Hope y’all are having a wonderful day <3333 Keep up the hype!!!

[silver-wield]

"Aerith doesn't say she's in love with Zack and also it's played off as a laugh." What. So she doesn't say it but she does but it's a funny joke because that makes sense.

Because he's lying.

I understand a lotta people bought his bullshit, but he's lying. Nobody has to listen to this garbage.

The leaks I mentioned before are true because they're confirmed by several sources, not just one asshole on a power trip.

This is literally everything I can remember for now. If those assholes are gonna spoil then so will I.

I don't know the ending exactly, but I definitely heard something but it has no context so it's not worth sharing. I also have nothing on Tifa's dress or Nibelheim unfortunately 😭

Cloud and Tifa almost kiss in Gongaga. Aerith literally tells Cloud she's still in love with Zack in Gongaga.

Cloud and Tifa kiss on her GS date. What's unconfirmed is whether that's the only date or if you can get the intimate date over the standard on the first playthrough. The standard date is an almost kiss that's interrupted by jenova giving him a headache.

There's some cut scenes between Zack and Aerith aside from the one that's currently circulating and the trailer snippet. He takes her to the church while she's unconscious in one of them.

Cloud and Tifa have a lot of UST (unresolved sexual tension) scenes across the game.

Cloud hugs and cries over Tifa after the event at Gongaga where he tries to attack her.

Aerith's date she talks about Zack and slimes over Cloud's arm. That's it. He doesn't reciprocate or "entwine fingers" 🤮🤮🤮 with her.

Every "date" she has with Cloud she talks about Tifa or Zack.

Cloud gets pissed at her baiting Tifa and firmly rebuffs her bullshit. This happens after Aerith brings up his massage at Madam M's and Tifa looks at him all hurt. He literally had enough of the bitch, okay.

Yuffie's date she tries to kiss Cloud, he rejects her, she gets stroppy and says "you saving yourself for Tifa?!"

[fairlybeloved]

@mistralxsoul

« In a way it's reassuring to see that I'm not completely alone here. »

He heard a voice through the darkness of his mind.

Could you not? I'm trying to sleep.

He thought he'd spoken aloud, but he didn't feel that familiar vibration in his throat, nor hear the sound carry out into the open world.

"Rrrbbt. Rrrbbt.”

A burly frog perched on a cool pebble at the bottom of a newly formed puddle, coaxed out of the bog by the pleasant downpour of rain. The conditions were ripe for the juicer bugs of the flying variety, many of which it would feast upon to satisfy its hunger for days. Or until the next cloud burst! Whichever happened to come first.

Rounded eyes regarded Zack [oh, was he awake now?], sizing him up. Was he a dangerous obstacle, or could it leap past without worrying about falling prey to a starving hunter? Its neck expanded with a deep groan, trying to make itself appear more intimidating to the giant rudely blocking its path.

But the object of its fears seemed not terribly interested in it. Eventually, it hopped away, ensuring its course took it in the exact opposite direction.

Zack lay flat on his back, unusual blue eyes staring toward the swaying treetops dancing on the tail end of the winds gentle current. There was no flinch even when a stray fly bravely settled down near his brow.

The world flowed by unchecked, no detail significant enough to bring him around, out of the self-imposed trance of mind and body. Years of his life had already been snatched away from him. What would a few more minutes or hours or days matter?

He had a grim secret.

A terrible burden of soul and body, one that arose not because he had some selfish want of withholding the inevitable truth from those who mattered most to him, but because…. it had become so ingrained in who he was, he forgot it may not be a feature known to everyone else.

It would be like telling others every time a sneeze occurred, or when a steady intake of breath filled the capacity of the lungs----

An intake of breath.

He turned his head, a body laying beside him.

He blinked, the information slow to process in his muddled mind, eyes gradually becoming more focused. Enough to see in a way that matched what his ears heard and his thoughts considered.

There was someone else there. Someone he didn't know.

He couldn't just leave things like that. He wasn't like THEM.

He was a hero.

Wasn't he?

He inhaled deeply, which seemed to be enough to prompt his body to rise to sitting partially upright. What word would be appropriate? There was nothing out there that could expand the situation in a way that held more worth without first knowing the situation. A baseline.

"Hey. Are you okay?" They could start there.

[altocat]

Angsty Gen and Seph dream I had that I figured I’d share below:

This was probably inspired by a fic I have been reading where Sephiroth was warned by Hojo that if he didn’t succeed in Nibelheim and actually kill Genesis, he would be considered no longer useful as Shinra’s weapon, but only for Hojo’s research as a lab rat like he was as a child. A very BAD outcome lol.

In the dream, canon diverged and Sephiroth actually was pulled away from the library mid-breakdown by Zack and they planned to escape, but Shinra was evil as usual and bombed Nibelheim like they did Banora. Zack was seriously injured and barely crawled away with his life, but Sephiroth got taken back in by Shinra, also barely aware of what was happening thanks to the impact of Shinra’s ambush.

I don’t even want to say what went down with Hojo afterwards but it was…bad. Hojo being the sick dad of the year he is, just got everything he always wanted. Sephiroth failed the mission so yeah…

But good news, Genesis found Zack! In the dream it was so sweet and pleasant to see, but Genesis actually came to his senses and realized that Sephiroth had rejected him in the reactor because he thought Gen was trying to use him for his cells. Gen had this big epiphany and was thinking “Oh shit I fucked up. Seph thought I was pulling a Shinra and trying to use him.”

Gen realized that what needed to happen was that they all escaped Shinra and Gen could find a cure for his degrading that way. He also was saying something about Zack being Angeal’s worthy successor iirc? Anyway. My favorite thing was seeing Gen redeem himself and save Zack, then decide to be a real hero by saving his friends and standing against Shinra.

So he rescued Zack and they decided they needed to go get Sephiroth. It was a longgg process in the dream because Genesis was still dying actually. But holy shit the angst was brutal because Gen did NOT fucking care. His degradation meant nothing. He had to get Seph out of Shinra and burn the whole place to the ground if it killed him.

Alto it was sooooo sad though. The end part destroyed me😭

Basically Gen finally broke into Shinra, fucking wiped the floor with Hojo, and saved Sephiroth’s life, who was barely functional by that point but ALIVE at least, and Gen was able to tell him he was sorry for everything and that he only ever wanted them to be equals, friends, even if they were both monsters. Once Sephiroth understood what Genesis had done and realized that they were still real friends, he forgave him and it was all made well but…well…you can probably guess….

Genesis didn’t survive. Zack and Seph made it, but Genesis had put all his energy into getting through to Seph. For him it was worth it because of the reconciliation and knowing that when Sephiroth was back to normal, he would avenge them and destroy Shinra. Gen died a hero. Aaaaaa!

It hurt so much but I loved this au that just randomly invaded my dream?? I’m only wondering now if Cloud survived the Nibelheim bombing 😐

If I had skills I would write this into a fic but since I don’t, I just wanted to share on the Sephcanons blog as an au headcanon!

Hhhhh Anon you're so creative. That was a sudden whirlwind flash of feels there lmao I'm losing it rn

[one-winged-dreams]

Loneliness

ship: what do angels dream of (adriel x angeal) (pl: zack) AUs: monster au (monster form references linked [1] [2]) source: final fantasy vii word count: 941

no proofreading we die like men

ANYWAY this is for platonic day for @cherry-bomb-ships Valentine's Day event :D

I had to do SOMETHING for Zack and a random bout of inspiration for this specific AU came to mind

tag list: @dearly-beeloved @camellias-and-coriander @rebel-wolf13 @sunstar-of-the-north @mahitoslittlebird @goldenworldsabound @edencantstopfallininlove @adoredbyalatus @dorothys-wife @faerie-circle-ships @kylars-princess @little-miss-selfships

"You guys are looking pretty mellow today!"

People would often question Zack about why he would talk to them, the monsters his friends would sometimes become. The very question itself never felt worth answering, he thought it would be obvious.

It's because they were his friends.

Angeal's Penance form rested on the ground, the bestial bottom half lowered in a laying position. And next to him, Adriel's Martyr form kneeled on his knees, leaning into Angeal's waist and softly caressing the teeth that made up his midsection.

They said nothing nor made any indication that they had acknowledged Zack's presence. The only sound in the room was Adriel's chime-like breathing and a gentle, almost metallic rumble from Angeal occasionally.

It was enough to bring a smile to Zack's face, the fact that despite his friends being momentarily lost to themselves, they still took pleasure in each other's company.

"Not interupting anything, am I? Don't need any privacy?" he teased, grinning at them.

The fact that it was not an ENTIRELY unwarranted tease was considered by many of the staff to be… Disturbing.

Still, they made no indication that they were bothered or that they noticed him at all, really.

Zack was the only one to ever get close by any margin. And in an entirely unheard-of fashion, the only one who would get close enough to actually TOUCH them.

But touch them, he did, coming up to kneel in front of Adriel and put a hand on his thigh. Something that would have had any other person torn to shreds by Angeal in the blink of an eye, but Zack only ever received an annoyed rumble.

Adriel had always been the softer of the two, even in these forms. His wing-veiled gaze slowly turned to regard him, staring him down for an unsettling few moments that were absolutely inconsequential to Zack. He merely grinned at the towering, ethereal form.

"Does someone neeeed… A Zack hug?" he laughed, holding his arms out in that signature fashion he had established for 2nd class's comfort so long ago.

The thought of speaking to these monsters in such a way was unabashedly ridiculous. Almost everyone agreed, but no one would say it to Zack's face. Not ANYMORE, at least.

As ridiculous as it was, Zack was always one to surpass expectations, and, with no fanfare whatsoever, Adriel's left hand lifted from Angeal's side, and his palm pushed against Zack's chest in a manner that was equal parts firm but gracefully gentle.

Zack laughed, wrapping his arms around Adriel's wrist in a friendly embrace.

"How's that, Adri? A little better?" He directed a grin upwards.

It was always baffling how much either Angeal or Adriel would respond to each other in any form.

Even more so that they would respond to ZACK.

Adriel's lips began to move, but the only sound was a chiming echo of whispered not-words.

Zack chuckled, shaking his head.

"Is that right?" he asked, clearly unable to understand but humoring Adriel anyway. "Day going okay so far other than…?" He gestured vaguely.

He was caught off guard by a nudge that nearly knocked him over, this time by Angeal. Chuckling incredulously, he turned his head, first regarding the massive limb that had nudged him, and then at the familiar face that never opened its eyes, let alone emoted.

"That good, huh?" Zack asked, gently pushing Adriel's hand away.

Neither of his friends responded, but somehow, Zack knew he had their full attention.

"Hey, between you two being married AND managing all this, a guy starts to get lonely, you know," he commented, smiling but with an amount of sincerity to his words.

Regardless of his own loneliness, Zack DID worry. Quite a bit, more than he was used to. No one ever expects their best friends to become unpredictable, ambiguously reasonable monsters. It was never a question about safety, it was always something along the lines of worrying if this state caused them pain, or if they were lonely, and sometimes even if they were being treated well. He didn't doubt that Reeve ran a tight ship that demanded the S and G types be treated with as much respect as anyone else, but did they hear the snide remarks? Did they acknowledge the fearful glances? And when it was only one of them, were they ever afraid…?

More ethereal whispers brought him out of his thoughts, not realizing his expression had changed. Incredulously, he stared up at Adriel, whose face was fixed on him intently.

"Uh. I don't understand, sorry…" Zack commented, finding himself wiping a bit of moisture from his eye.

A somewhat louder metallic rumble preluded Zack being nudged by Angeal so hard that he almost fell over.

"Hey!" he cried out, but as he tipped, he felt Adriel's hand catch his side.

"What are…" Zack trailed off, his glances shifting between his two friends.

They were both visibly watching him, and though neither of them had visible eyes, he could feel their gazes trained on him. And just like that, more moisture began to build up in his own eyes.

"You too, huh?" he chuckled tearfully.

If he had described the palpable feeling of their desire for his company to anyone else, they would have undoubtedly rebuked the very concept. They were monsters, half-mindless.

But as Reeve had told many a doubtful individual, nobody knew them like Zack did.

With one of his friends' giant hands on each of his shoulders, Zack laughed, reaching up to place one of his own on either of theirs.

"That's okay. I'm here with you guys now, yeah? That's enough for me."

[daryldixonfanfiction]

What you fight for! Pt.2- Home sweet home

Masterlist

Summary: Julia convinces Daryl to play the famous college drinking game never-have-I-ever, which always ends with feelings getting hurt. 

Warnings: age gape, adult language, alcohol, underage drinking, angst, irresponsible use of fire.

WC: 6.6k 

Daryl continues their way from the golf club further in the forest, comfortably, enjoying the presence of one another. 

“A motorcycle mechanic,” Julia breaks the silence, taking up Zach’s guessing game of Daryl’s occupation.

“Huh?”

“That’s my guess. For what you were doing before the turn…Did Zack ever guess that one?”

Julia glances upon Daryl beside her. Letting out a breath he answers simply, 

“It doesn't matter. Hasn’t mattered for a long time.”

Not a motorcycle mechanic, got it.

“Just what people talk about you know, to feel normal.”

Always alert Daryl keeps a close eye on their surroundings making him look ahead, as he casually responds, 

“Yeah, well that never felt normal to me.” 

…

They stand before a large shack, run-down like most places sins the turn.

“Found this place with Michonne,” Daryl revealed.

“I was expecting a liquor store”, Julia declared confused.

“No, this is better”, he said confidently.  According to Daryl, a much better option for Julia’s first drink.

Daryl leads her onwards 

Daryl fills a box filled with Mason jars from the small shed with a clear liquid inside, making her curious.

"What's that?”

“Moonshine”, he hands her the box filled to the brim with clanking Mason jars. Daryl knows peach schnapps is gross unless there’s about a pound of sugar with it making this a much better option.

“Come on”, he urged, as a hint of a smile plaid on her lips.

The door creaks as Daryl steps into the main room of the shack, scanning every corner of  Its run-down interior. Glancing behind the door in the kitchen area Julia approaches close behind as Daryl mosions with his head it’s clear. She puts down the heavy box of booze on the dining table. Blowing out dust from a glass Daryl pores a small portion of moonshine, placing it in front of her on the table, making her put her attempt down to the side, gazing up at him.

“All right”  -Daryl breathes. “That’s a real first drink right there”, -he stated confidently, -Standing, fidgeting with the jar lid before placing it on the table. But Julia got quiet, as if nervous.

“What’s the matter?” He asks.

“Nothing”, she rushed. She continues, shaking her head as if contemplating, “It’s just…” Julia gazed up at Daryl. “My grandaddy said bad moonshine can make you go blind”. But that was just a bad excuse of course.

“Ain’t nothing worth seeing out there anymore anyway,” he encouraged.

Julia couldn't argue with that, so she didn't contemplate too long, going against her grandaddy's warning nor that she was still too young to be drinkin. 

The world had ended, no one would care anyway. 

Letting out a sigh, she takes a small sip, frowning with a gross out face, and does what most do during their very first drink.

“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

Daryl shrugs, it’s moonshine after all.

Bottoms up, downing the last sip, placing the glass down, “Second rounds better,” she chuckles gazing up at Daryl with a girlish smile.

“Slow down," he warns. Julia didn't look like someone who could take so much, and drinking on an empty stomach he knows all too well is a bad idea.

Reaching the Mason jar filling the glass once more Julia looks up at Daryl,

“This one’s for you,” she insists.

“No, I’m good,” he declines.

"Why?" She looks at him with disappointment.

“someone’s gotta keep watch,” he reminds her. 

Right, what a bummer.

Julia was really looking forward to her drink making her feel a bit annoyed she couldn't have this moment, just this once, making her comment bak.

“So, what, you're like my chaperone now?” She said sarcastically.

Daryl immediately became awkward, “Just drink lots of water,” he answered unamused, stepping past her as she sighs ,

“Yes, Mr. Dixon.”

…

Taking shelter in the main room in the ransacked shack, for the rest of the day, Daryl busy himself with nailing up the windows, mumbling incoherently with nails in his mouth. Julia on the other hand sits on her knees investigating the reaments until she finds a bra-shaped planter/ashtray. Astonished by such a ridiculous item she breaks the silence and places it before her.

She chuckles, “Who’d go into a store and walk out with this?”

Daryl paus his hammering, turning towards her with the hammer in his right.

“My dad, that’s who”. 

Julias hands paus, eyes starring in response. 

Daryl continues, “Oh, he’s a dumbass,” and that he was. “He’d set those up on the TV set, use them as target practice,” Daryl said, making motions with his free hand towards where the TV would have been. 

Her eyes go wide, raising her eyebrows as if taken back by the calmness in his tone.

“He shot things inside your house?” She said worriedly. Julia never really had a dad growing up, but she understood Daryl’s mustn't have been a good one.

Daryl went on, “It was just a bunch of junk anyway.” He continues and admits, “That’s how I knew what this place was. That shed out there, my dad had a place just like this.” Daryl starts pointing things out with the hammer in his hand. “You got your dumpster chair. “That’s for sitting in…and your drawers all summer drinking. Got your fancy buckets. That’s for spitting chaw in after your old lady tells you to stop smoking.” He picks up some nearby newspaper, “You got your …Internet.” He lets it fall to the floor. 

Julia realized this was the milieu that bore Daryl, the man he came to be. How he immediately found the hideout stash of moonshine or at least Daryl before the turn, she thought before a walker outside interrupted. Making her rise still on her knees as Daryl held out a finger, motioning her to keep putt, and she did as he looked through the now covered window.

“It’s just one of ‘em,” Daryl conferms, turning back towards her.

“Should we get it?” She asks anxiously.

“If he keeps making too much noise, yeah”, he spoke softly, keeping his voice down.  

“Well,” she turned her head towards the mason jars beside her, grabbing one “..if we’re gonna be trapped again, we might as well make the best of it.” She looks up at Daryl with a kind smile and a mason jar in her outstretched arm towards him. Eyes big and round as she lightly heartly jokes, “Unless you’re too busy chaperoning, Mr. Dixon." 

Daryl couldn't argue, she was right, “Hell, might as well make the best of it”, he grabbed the moonshine from her hand lounging himself in the armchair beside her. He puts his one foot resting on his knee, leaning back,  lifting his drink in a toast glancing down to Julia, “Home sweet home." Swallowing down a big sip of moonshine, she follows suit taking a smaller sip of the remnants in her glass.

…

Julia has convinced Daryl to take part in the popular college drinking game never have I ever. Sitting in the middle of the main room with an upside down box as their table, each has a drink placed, sitting on the floor across from each other. Julia sits on her knees, hands on the table fidgeting with her glass meanwhile Daryl sits in a more lendback manner,  with one arm, hand flat on the floor holding his weight while his other elbow rests on one knee in a sluggish manner biting his nails, gazing shyly for instructions. 

How this girl made him participate in all these things he would never know, but here he was in a moonshine shack, a couple of miles out from the prison, drinking with a girl half his age. 

Daryl listens intently as Julia explains the game.

“So first I say something I’ve never done and if you have done it, you drink, and if you haven’t, I drink…Then we switch.”

Daryl stairs, quiet as ever. Making her question. “You really don’t know this game?”

“I never needed a game to get lit before,” he answers, chewing on his nail.

“Wait, are we starting?” Julia asked, confused.

Daryl questions, pointing a finger, not accusing, but questioning.

“How do you know this game?” His deep blue eyes narrowed.

Nothing could get past Daryl, with his perceptive sense, easily reading people like the back of his hand, he would put one and one together recognising any dishonesty. 

“My friends played.” Julia shakes her head. “I watched,” How she replied a little too quickly and tensed just the slightest he got his answer, it was way too obvious, almost amusing, but he went no further. 

Julia down plays Daryl’s questioning, starting the game with the first question.

“Okay, I’ll start.” She likes her lips as she thinks before speaking. “I’ve never shot a crossbow,” She starts off innocently. “So now you drink.” 

“Ain’t much of a game,” Daryl downs the first sip of moonshine.

“That was a warm-up.” "Now you go.” Julia insisted, eager to keep playing.

"Mm mh", he grunts, averting his gaze. “I don’t know,” he bites on his fingernail again.

“Just say the first thing that pops into your head”, Julia encouraged. 

But the thing was with Daryl, when he would get shy his mind went blank, unable to think clearly. She seemed so excited about this game, so he did his best.

“I’ve never been out of Georgia,” he says, looking at Julia.

“Really?” She didn't expect that. “Okay, good one,” smiling in a satisfied manner as he plays along she takes a sip, taking her turn as Daryl keeps his gaze on her.

“I’ve never…been drunk and did something I regretted,”  she dares to ask, with a sly smile.

Scratching his stubble before reaching for his drink dawning his second sip, he clarifies, “I’ve done a lot of things,” he insinuates, lifting his brows.

Daryl becomes quiet again, gazing downwards as if unsure what to say.

“Your turn”, she reminds him.

He lifts his gaze, giving in again as he takes his turn. “I’ve never been on vacation.”

“What about camping?,” She was quick to question.

“No,” he shakes his head. “That was just something I had to learn…To hunt,” he scratches his stubble again in a more soothing manner as he remembers his old man.

“Your dad teach you?” 

“Mm hmm.” he hums, voice deep, rumbling in his chest.

“Okay,” she downs her second sip, feeling a little bit tipsy, she dares to ask, without much thought behind the words.

“I've never… been in jail.”

Daryl became silent, sitting there glaring with a cold gaze as his chest rises and falls, in a heavy rhythm. His blue-eyed gaze becomes almost black as bitterness burns his chest.  Meanwhile, Julia was too fuzzy from the alcohol to recognise this.

“I mean, as a prisoner,” she clarifies fidgeting with her empty glass.

Daryl glares, unblinking for a moment before questioning. “Is that what you think of me?” He breathed a sigh of disappointment.

“I didn’t mean anything serious. I thought, you know, like the drunk thing,” she shakes her head looking down as she defends her question. “Even my granddaddy got locked up for that back in the day.” Julia blinks as her gaze is back on him.

“Drink up,” Daryl reminds shortly, but Julia keeps on pushing it, smiling that girlish smile. 

His past was nothing to joke about and certainly no game. 

The once innocent drinking game had turned into something personal and ugly. But Julia doesn't realize she's stepping over the line.

"Wait." Prison guard. Were you a prison guard before?” 

For a moment Daryl onely glares… Blue eyes unamused, disappointed in something he should have known. His voice had gone low, like gravel and stones, “No.” He denies.

Fidgeting with the glass she tries to keep on with their drinking game. “It’s your turn again,” her smile turned awkward, sensing something was wrong.

Daryl was fed up, grunting as he stands to full height, excusing himself,

“I’m gonna take a piss,” he walked to the corner of the kitchen area, drunk and despondent he dropped his jar of moonshine, shattering it all over the floor.

“You have to be quiet,” Julia reminds, in a hushed tone.

“Can’t hear you! I’m taking a piss!

“Daryl, don’t talk so loud!” Julia whispered with a harsh tone.

“What are you my chaperone now?” He snaps, glaring. Julia averts her gaze, fidgeting with the glass in her hands.

Buckling his belt, turning back towards her, he starts his never-have-I-evers in an especially mean spirited tone.

“It’s my turn right?  I’ve never, uh… Never eaten frozen yogurt. Never had a pet pony,” he spat, becoming more angry by every sentence. “Never got nothing from Santa Claus,” he exclaims, hitting the kitchen chair with the box filled with mason jars clinks as the chair almost tipped over. “Never relied on anyone for protection before.” He steps closer. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever relied on anyone for anything!" 

“Daryl,” she shook her head-worriedly, as he was greatly scaring her. Making Julia regret her every word. But she felt she was not meant to be frightened of someone she had begun to trust.

Daryl takes a breath as he keeps on talking harshly. "Never sing out in public playing house wife, like everything was fun, like everything was a big game!"

Julia inhales an anxious breath as he turns from her for just a moment. Daryl exhaled sharply before speaking towards her again. 

"Never have I seduced every man in the prison, like a whore looking for attention." He engages towards her, pointing an accusing finger, making her fidgeting hands pause and spine tense. Her heart thumps hard in her chest staring with wide-eyes upon him.

Julia was hurt and confused. She always kept to herself, even avoided the men at the prison. The only one was Zack, as he was a friend. But he died on a run, weeks before the prison fell. She was no whore, the whole reason she wore the ankle-length skirt was to cover herself from any unwanted attention. She didn't like when people looked at her and certainly not men for that matter.

Thuds and growls from the nearby walker averts Daryl's attention.

"Oh, sounds like our friend out there is trying to call all of his buddies!” He says loudly, kicking an empty can on the floor, making more unnecessary noise and Julia more anxious off the railed up walker.

“Daryl, just shut up!” She warns him urgently in a hushed voice. He was going to get them killed.

Grabbing his crossbow ponting an outstretched arm towards her, ignoring her warning, he engages with strong strides, “Hey, you never shot a crossbow before?!” He doesn't give her a chance to answer. “I’m gonna teach you right now!” Daryl grabs Julia by the wrist firmly, making her gasp. 

“Come on. It's gonna be fun!” He kicks the door open with such force it slams into the wall making the shack shake. Julia struggles in his grip, dragged along like nothing as she tries desperately to get sense in him.  

“We should stay inside!” She said as Daryl continued dragging her down the porsche. “Daryl, cut it out! Daryl!" She begs him only to be ignored and dragged further along towards the walker Daryl’s unsober state seems unsettlingly interested in. 

The walker growles, dragging its rotten feet towards them.  Slightly panicked, she stays behind him, anxiously.

“Dumbass,” he taunts the walker, as he aims, “Come here, dumbass,” he fires a bolt, pinning it to the tree but not killing it.

“Daryl-,” she begins.

“You want to shoot?” He says, reloading the crossbow. 

She turns quickly towards him as he engages, making her stutter.  “I…I don’t know how.” 

“Oh, it’s easy. Come here.” Daryl pants. “Right corner.” Warm breath hits her neck, she gasps as he spun her around by the touch of his hand on her shoulder, pulling her in, pressing her back against his chest, manhandling her with one arm holding just above the clouds of her breasts, making her grab his forearm for leverage as his broad frame diminishes hers. While his other hand single handedly welds the crossbow aiming upon the walker pinned against the tree, easley trapping her he moves his free hand, shooting the walker's leg.

Daryl releases her only to bend down and reload.

"Let's practice later," Julia pleads, facing him.

“Come on, it's fun,” he says, pulling the bowstring back and hocking it.

Fun!? Is he out of his mind!?

“Just stop it! Daryl!” Julia begs, but of course gets ignored again.

“Come here,” he breaths, spinning her around, pulling her bak as he yanks her against his chest closer this time, with his arm holding her firmly over her shoulder as his hand is back above the clouds of her breasts, with the crossbow resting on her opposite shoulder giving her no other choice then giving in to his rough touche a strangled breath leaves her lips. 

He takes a breath steding her -Then exhales. “Eight ball,” he releases the third bolt.

“Just kill it!” She exclaims facing him, with eyes desperately pleading for him to stop. But Daryl walk’s right past her.

“Come here, girly.” He waves for her to follow. “ Let’s pull these out. Get a little more target practice.”

But Julia had enuff, unwilling to take Daryl’s bullshit any longer, she does what she has never dared, but with moonshine in her blood she stomps past him and stabs the walker in its head. 

Of course Daryl wasn't happy about his little practice game coming to an abrupt end. Making him become at once firm and angry as irrational rage overcome him. She could tell by the look in his face with those piercing blue eyes and how the tone of his voice became lowered. 

He scolds her, face to face -standing inches apart.

“What the hell you do that for?” “I was having fun.” 

“No, you were being a jackass.” She calls him out, blinking with her brows furrowing. “If anyone found one of those kids…”  she pointed towards the dead walker. 

“Don’t.” He cut her off sharply, pointing a daring finger in her face, shaking his head -warningly. “That ain’t remotely the same.”

“Killing them is not supposed to be fun,” she scolds back.

Daryl narrows his gaze, advancing loomingly like a shadow swallowing her up, “What do you want from me, girl, huh?!” He growled in her face, making her take a step back.

“I want you to stop acting like you don’t give a crap about anything” She gazed up at Daryl. “Like nothing we went through matters, like none of the people we lost meant anything to you,” her gaze lowered then back at him again, Inhaling a needed breath she finally speaks up from the top of her lungs. “It’s bullshit!”

His imposing stance dissipates, taken back by every word  spoken wish such heart, as if every cell from her body begged him to understand. But he didn't know how to take it nor what to do with it, only listened,  with his mouth agape panting heavily before questioning.

“Is that what you think?” He advanced aging. 

“That’s what I know,” she tells him as a fact. Her eyes begin to water, eyebrows furrowing as her lower lip begins to quiver.

“You don’t know nothing,” Daryl hissed, glaring, causing Julia to step back, uneasily on her feet. But it didn't stop her from rambling on, not caring if a tear would fall or if she would break down before him as her voice became unsteady -quivering as she spoke with the utmost honesty -unafraid as her eyes looked intensely into his blue ones.

She shakes her head, “I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl”. She  brushes her hair out of her face, “I’m not Beth, and I’m not Carol.” 

He stands finding it difficult holding their gaze -Taken back as she speaks.

“I’ve survived and you don’t get it ‘cause I’m not like you or them’.” She takes a breath pushing through the tightness in her throat. “But I made it, and you don’t get to treat me like crap just because you’re afraid.” She makes motions with her hands in the air.  

Daryl steppes closer as his heart pounds, blood boils, rushing through his veins.  

“I ain’t afraid of nothing.” Daryl hissed, able to kill flesh with his tongue, leaning slightly forward, becoming eye level with her.  

Julia's heart smacks in her ribs, unable to describe the look in his eyes. The way he glares. It was like nothing she had ever seen before as his towering figure once more made her feel ever so small. Like a hunter stalking its prey, imposing and terrifying, growling in her face with such a low and primal tone, makes her mouth become dry. Her eyes were burning…Staring into his, because she could clearly see he was simply hiding behind his outwards strength, like armor masking guilt, a brokenness, something she couldn't pinpoint but she could certainly sense it. She could  even see it in his eyes, deep as the ocean, stormy as the sea itself.

“I remember." She begins. A hesitant breath..then.  “Back at the prison. When I came running with Marline and you were alone…You were like me.” He turned away, avoiding her teary gaze as his face contorted in pain because her assumptions are true, he was afraid even scared.

As Daryl was quiet Julia continued, engaging, not as imposing nor as threatening due to her height difference, but she was firmer now when she knew she was getting to him, not to make him angry but to show he had a heart.

“And now God forbid you ever believe with evidence in your hand, not even after Marlene gave you that map, you don’t dare to let anybody, anything get too close.” 

“Too close, huh?" Daryl faces her again as she nods heavily in ‘that it is exactly what she believes’. 

Daryl glares back, “You know all about that,” he argues back, pointing an accusing finger in her face. He takes a breath. “You lost your boyfriend, you didn't even shed a tear!” He points to his eye." The whole prison is gone, all you can do is just go out looking for hooch like some dumb college bitch!” He shouts in her face, swinging his arm enhancing every word.

Julia got quiet for a moment, thinking back to her friend Zack, how she didn't cry when the news came, and she didn't know why she never did cry nor the fact she never mourned him. But that was a nun of his business.

 “Screw you. You don’t get it.” She defends with eyebrows scrunched together as lips tightens in irritation.

Daryl’s jaw clicks. Awakening a burning rage he didn't know how to counteract as if she had flipped a switch, igniting an animalistic response, replaced by the little fondness he began to grow towards her. Daryl tried to calm himself, but he had to make her understand because she acted as if everything was fine when he assumed otherwise. It didn't matter if he had to shake her into reality. And in the heat of the  moment Daryl didn't care as he shouts the loudest he has done this far, without even hearing himself..

“No, you don’t get it! Everyone we know is dead!” 

“You don’t know that!” She shouts back within inches from his face. Digging nails into her palms. 

“Might as well be, ‘cause you ain’t never gonna see ‘em again!”

Julia was taken back, he was being cruel. Her gaze lowered as tears trickled down her face.  

Daryl went on, “Marlene…” 

He starts to shout, pointing a finger in her face. “you ain’t never going to see Judithe again!”

“Daryl, just stop”, Julia pleaded. She reached for his arm only for him to yank it away, turning his back facing her. 

But then Daryl finally got to the heart of his pain, “The Governor rolled right up to our gates,” his voice wavered, panting as his anger dissipated. Julia stands close behind listening carefully.

“Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped looking. Maybe ‘cause I gave up. That’s on me,” he blames himself pointing a finger towards his chest, still turned from her.

“Daryl,” Julia reached out again to comfort him in any way. “No,” he cranked out, feeling how  his vision became blurry with the last confession left on his heart.  

“And them kids…. Maybe… Maybe I could have done something.” 

Her heart broke hearing his voice wever in pain and despair. Every cell in her body screamed for her to hold him. And that was what she did, raping her arms around his torso and her head rests against his back and he aloud her, finding it impossible keeping his guard up any longer.

Julia wondered how long it had been since someone had shown Daryl simple, caring like this. He seemed so touch-deprived as she held him, weeping like a man that had carid the world upon his shoulders even tho knowone asked him to.  As his stiff body relaxed leaning into her, she tightened her grip. 

Maybe the reason he taped her arm or her back before, was because he was uncertain how much he was allowed to touch her, because knowone had ever shown him?

Julia hoped he was going to be okay. She inhaled deeply as her chest breathed in sync with his, feeling how his beating heart began to settle, and how his warmth radiated off his skin, it felt pleasing against hers -even on a late summer day like this.

Perhaps she needed his touch as much as he seemed to need hers?

In that moment, in her embrace, holding him like the night hugs the moon. For a moment Daryl forgot his anger and the pain glazing his eyes. The pins and needles in his heart shrink and shrivel in size. The feeling of her soft body pressed against his felt like the most gentle of touches. 

Julia is the first girl who has ever been nice to Daryl. So he lets his guard down. Allowing her light to penetrate him. Even her arms radiate safety and hope and everything Daryl always thought was just out of reach within the walls he’s built around himself. Making the future feel  a bit warmer, brighter, not as engulfed in shadows as he had felt for a long time. 

For every tear he weeped Daryl didn't feel less of a man even though this was the most vulnerable he's ever been before. But in her embrace his soul breathes. 

Daryl would never tell her but he would like to be held in her arms forever.

…

The night air is cool and light, soothing against skin as they relax on the porch. Calm and composed after their intense outburst they lean against a post across from one another, sitting with their knees bent in front of their chest, each with a mason jar placed. They were quiet for a while.

Daryl pickies on a wooden plank with his knife while Julia gazed tiredly. Her whole body felt warm and buzzed, as if she was one giant vibrating being. She watches Daryl continuously pick and pick again with his gaze concentrated as his head hangs low.

Julia breaks their silence -softly.

“I get why my grandparents stopped drinking.”

Daryl lifts his gaze

“You feel sick?” He asked, with a soft expression, as if he was sorry.

"Nope." I wish I could feel like this all the time…That’s bad.” She spoke calmly with a small smile.

“Hmm,” he hums -Lifting his gaze again. “You’re lucky you’re a happy drunk.”

Julia lowers her gaze slightly

“Yeah, I’m lucky.” Their eyes met, but Daryl lowered his gaze. “Some people can be real jerks when they drink.” She said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I’m a dick when I’m drunk.” He grunts, smiling shyly, fidgeting with the knife on the post pole in front of him before lowering it with his gaze back on the planks as he falls silent.

Dayl diden’t understood himself half the time and -He felt like a fucking asshole -A dick. He didn't mean to be cruel nor hurt her. He never fucking ment to and yet he always ended up saying things -That even jolted himself sometimes. Daryl was sorry for his words to her, she had looked so pained from his harshness -Even scared, but in that moment he didn't know how else to approach her words when he was so angry, afraid and so broken, he didn't know how to deal with it when she saw right through him. And yet she sat there speaking calmly with that soft voice, as if she had forgiven him. He didn't deserve such kindness.

“My brother had this dealer…” Daryl begins. Telling her about the story of getting drunk with Merle and his tweaker friend. 

Gazing softly as she listens. Her hands rest’s in her lap with her head relaxed against the post. It was nice hearing him talk about his brother. Julia didn't know he had one. But the way his eyes grew distant she could tell Daryl loved his brother very much. Every time he’d recalled a memory he would look up then to the left as if he was picturing it so vividly, like it was playing before him. He even gave a little smile, even though the story was a bit sad. And between the words he would look up, making sure she was listening. And she was. She felt as if she could listen for hours. She didn't know his voice could sound so gentle, softly rumbling from his chest. It felt so soothing that if she closed her eyes she would fall asleep. He looked handsome, she liked his eyes and the lines in his face. And he was quiet. Different from most men she had encountered as he was often shy and awkward about his feelings. Not able to hold their gaze for more than a couple of seconds, but she didn't mind, she was similar to him in those ways.

“I thought I was dead…Over a dumb cartoon about a talking dog.” Daryl ends his story with a deep sight as his gaze falls again.

Daryl could remember it all, how Merle always got riled up over nothing, and he would  have his back, always. Because there was blood, like Merle often told him. He could recall how the three of them shouted as Merle pulled his gun defending him, how his hand throbbed, punching the guy over and over again and that deth cold feeling in his gut, believing he really would die right there in the living room.

Julia listened attentively as the story progressed from some bad choice of words of his brother to a gun pointed to his head. She imagined he must have been terrified, believing his life would end with a bullet. It was painful, imagining Daryl dying that day. Making her browser furrow. She needed to know more about what unfollowed and what happened after Merle pulled his gun? 

“How’d you get out of it?” She asked with genuine curiosity. 

Daryl lifts his gaz

“The tweaker punched me in the gut. I puked. They both started laughing and forgot all about it.” He said as he became quiet towards the end lowering his head.

He takes a breath liking his lips. “You want to know what I was before all this?” He asked her.

Julia gazed attentively. 

“I was just drifting around with Merle, doing whatever he said we were gonna be doing that day,” Daryl leans his head back against the post. Feeling how the sudden melancholy seatels, like the sudden change in the weather. The kind of sadness that is intangible. He could feel the ache, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly where it hurt.

“I was nobody…Nothing…Some redneck asshole with an even bigger asshole for a brother.” Daryl croaked, unable to meet her eyes.  

The words were so strangled by the tightness in his throat Julia could hardly hear him. It pains her hearing him talk so lowly blaming himself when he had shown her kindness. Protecting her, keeping her safe. 

As Daryl became quiet again she was too for a moment, letting his words sink to her heart.

“You miss him, don’t you?” She spoke softly.

Of course he did, Merle was his big brother, it was them against the world. Even though he knew he was bad for him Daryl couldn't help but love him. No questions asked, they were always there for one another. Despite the bad stories and Merles crooked ways he was all he had. Even if he was an asshole, even if he was constantly put down he felt almost obligated, because there was blood and without Merle Daryl feared he’d end up alone. Daryl had lost his brother twice. He was the first person he had ever cried over. So yes, Daryl missed his brother terribly, even though he would never admit it, he did. 

Julia knew she could see it in his eyes, how he shook his head ever so slightly, as if the words were difficult to say outlawed. She understands it must be hard dealing with pain like that, not knowing where to put it. From his story she understood their relationship wasn't one filled with brotherly love but that didn't mean Daryl never felt love towards his brother. 

“I miss the kids.” A mournful smile played on her lips,  Daryl lifted his gaze.  “I miss making these silly little bracelets, " she chuckled sadly, remembering she could never say no, making her keep them all on her wrist. And she never took them off, as if she would hurt their feelings if she did. 

“I miss Marlene.” Her eyes become glassy, gazing towards the moon. “She was so strict and overprotective. She was… my only friend after Zack and I know she didn't see me as one, but I didn't mind.” She chuckles again as her smile dissipates. “And my grandaddy,” she tilts her head, fighting back the tears. 

“I thought…I hoped he’d just live the rest of his life in peace, you know?” Julia inhaled  -Smiling, imagining what could have been. -she exhales. “I thought after a couple of years working on his farm, I would eventually take over. I thought would know how to drive a tractor, grow vegetables, and plant all the flowers he loved so much. And he could finally rest after all these years. He’d get to see my children, if I ever were to get any of course…Just a simple life.” She swallowed thickly, gazing down to her hands. “And he’d get really old. And it’d happen, but it’d be quiet.” She shrugged, lifting her gaze, “It be okay,” Her smile fades again. “He’d be where he belonged in his paradise, as he called it.”

Daryl could see her pain. How she flexed her jaw tilting her chin as pools of tears filled her eyes. Looking up she chuckles again. Distracting herself from breaking down. But she couldn't manipulate her heart. 

“That’s how unbelievably stupid I am.” Her voice brackets making her exclaim that sad chuckle again, rolling her eyes as the pools in her eyes spill. She downs a sip from her mason jar, then places it down, resting her elbows on her knees with one hand against the cheek, looking up -Her eyes deep in thought.

“That’s how it was supposed to be,” Daryl said thoughtfully.

Julia exhales, swallowing the tightness in her throat, “ I wish I could just....Change.” She sighed.

“You did,” he said sincerely. Because Daryl had seen it. Even though she was scared, she never let it face her. And even though she was young she was strong, she didn't know it yet, but she was.

“Not enough." Not like you. It’s like, you were made for how things are now.” She insisted.

“I’m just used to it, things being ugly. Growing up in a place like this.” Daryl said, motioning to the shack.

“Well, you got away from it,” she encouraged.

Daryl shakes his head in denial, “I didn't.”

“You did.” Julia insists.

"Maybe you got to keep on reminding me sometimes.” He said softly.

“No. You can’t depend on anybody for anything, right?” She reminds him. She was silent…then. “I’ll be gone someday,” she tells him with a smile.

“Stop”, Daryl croaked.

“I will,” she insists, shaking her head as of fact. But then her mood shifts, becoming serious with that sadness back in her voice. “You're gonna be the last man standing.” 

He was so afraid and it hit him now, harder than ever, making him drop his gaze. Daryl could speak, but he feared he'd just cry, and what kind of a man would weep again before a girl like her? 

“You are,” she insisted again, searching his gaze.

Julia rests her head back against the post -Her tone was soft, but her face betrayed her. “You're gonna miss me so bad when I’m gone, Daryl Dixon.

Julia knew how much he would miss her, she knew. But Daryl could only stare.

“You ain’t a happy drunk at all,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m happy. I’m just not blind.”

“You got to stay who you are, not who you were. Places like this..” -She looks down, searching for the right words, “..you have to put it away.”

“What if you can’t?” Daryl stares off into the night, then back at her.

“You have to.” -Her eyebrows furrow. “Or it kills you.” 

Daryl was taken back again, resting his hands on his knee chewing on his lip, digesting her words.

“Here”, she smiles, placing a hand over her heart.

Daryl didn't have the words to respond, making him change the subject. 

“We should go Inside,” he reminds her only to be met with a wide, genuine smile, making Daryl's heart swell in his chest.

“We should burn it down,” Julia suggests, chuckling drunkenly.

Daryl stands to full height -slowly. Heading towards the door to leave, but he stopped in his tracks, turning to look down at her, and said. “We're gonna need more booze.” 

Julia smiles in return. 

…

They head to the kitchen, grabbing jars of moonshine, pouring the fluid all over. Emptying every mason jar throughout the shack. Out on the porch they throw their last jars, now empty, the glass shatters on the wooden floor. 

Daryl offers Julia a match. “You wanna?" He looks at her.

“Hell, yeah”, she obliged gladly, setting the stack of cash aflame. 

Daryl throws it onto the boozed-soaked porch. The fire instantly engulfs the structure. Standing further away upon the dirt road gazing upon the flames Julia flips the middle finger towards the burning building, with a smile she nudges Daryl beside her and Daryls does the same. They say goodbye to their past, their pain and sorrows. As the fire attracts incoming walkers, Daryl urges her away with a hand on her back and together they walk away, heading into the woods as a hint of a smile is now on both their faces.

And just like that Julia is now his support system, his reminder to “stay who you are, not who you were.” Before the turn, it was Merle. Afterwards, it was Rick and Carol. Now, it has to be her. And Julia in return takes up the mantle as voice of reason and the beacon of hope, their moral compass along the way. 

Pt.3

[pen-and-umbra]

idk if everyone checked out latest halloween special, so SPOILER alert ahead. why do you think sephiroth stuck w/ shinra for so long with all the crap they out him thru? i mean ec is EXPLICIT abt sephiroth suffering mistreatment at hojos hands, not to mention those lies shinra created abt him being this hero figure. and he only starts thinking about *maybe* quitting on the eve of Niebelheim mission, like whyyyyy??

Who can say? There could be numerous reasons.

For one thing, I believe Sephiroth understood he couldn't truly escape ShinRA's clutches and sever all ties with the organization. He was too valuable to lose, the pinnacle of ShinRA inventions, a source of non-degradable cells; they wouldn't let him go. At best, he could hope for a life like Aerith's: loosely free but on a leash, watched over by Turks and whatever other means of surveillance were available. It doesn't help that half the places in the area have a strong ShinRA presence, and Sephiroth is a well-known public figure with an eye-catching appearance. He couldn't just blend in with the crowd because he was too famous and well-publicized. Perhaps Angeal and Genesis were not the first SOLDIER members to desert active duty, and younger Sephiroth witnessed other deserters being chased to hell and back (I have a theory that the FS trio might eventually face this fate). If such an incident occurred, it could have left an indelible mark. After all, living under constant surveillance or a threat of pursuit is not exactly the normal life Sephiroth desired.

One could argue that ShinRA couldn't do anything against him if he chose to quit or flee. I disagree to a point. They did manage to bring down Zack — it took an army, but they did it, and Zack, mind you, held his own against Genesis. Now Sephiroth is on a whole other level, but he is still human — at least before Nibelheim events. He requires sleep, sustenance, water. If a direct confrontation is out of the question, ShinRA could always resort to subterfuge. Poison, gas, sedatives, in water/food/air when he's less vigilant — you name it. The only issue left would be containment. If they wanted him for cells and tissue, they could just arrange something to keep him comatose. Not to mention that the remake makes it abundantly clear they have no regard for collateral damage. They could burn down an entire town just to get to him. ShinRA most likely had dirty tricks up its sleeve that could cause problems even for SOLDIER members — not necessarily in the form of firearms or other weaponry.

Another reason could be one of existential nature. Sephiroth had been raised his entire life to be a killing machine. He lacks both the vision and the skill set to be anything else. Ever Crisis openly states that Sephiroth had little prior experience with people prior to his first field mission with the FS trio, meaning that it was mainly lab and training staff that influenced him during his formative years. As a true psychopath, Hojo is a master manipulator; in FF7R, it is he who suggests using psychological torment to break Aerith, so it's fair to assume a young child might have also received a chunk of that. Knowing Hojo, I wouldn't be surprised if he made it a point to instill this belief in Sephiroth: you're only good for killing, and without ShinRA, you're nothing (or maybe it was even more personal, with Hojo substituting ShinRA for himself). Those ideas are very likely to have become absorbed into the very core of Sephiroth's sense of self as he matured. And once something has been drilled into your head since childhood, it is difficult to break the mold. When you combine that with the fact that his legend began as a deceptive marketing ploy, you have a potentially damaged sense of self-worth. You'll get someone who is confident on the battlefield but lost beyond it. Fighting, as short-sighted as it was, gave him a sense of purpose. It sufficed for a while, being as good a reason as any other.

There's also the matter of belonging. Sephiroth's obsession with finding his family stems from a sense of rootlessness and an unsatisfied need to belong. The game is subtle about it, but it's still there: it's his sense of being different from others, his inability to relate to normal experiences (having a hometown, for example), his sensitivity to cyborg comments (the implication here being that the question of his own nature was salient for Sephiroth already back then), and his reaction to "it's not cool to ask about mother" (which implies that people teased or berated him for wanting to know). Still, as bad as ShinRA was, it gave him purpose and provided whatever meaningful relationships he had. It gave him stability. Unlike the world outside, it was a known variable, and as the saying goes, better a devil you know. As far as my guess goes, Sephiroth was in no small part simply reluctant to shift the status quo and go for drastic changes, which is very human in hindsight. Humans are conformists by nature; uncertainty generally frightens us, so we avoid it. To him, the outside world may have appeared to have no place for him: no place to belong, no place to mingle, no skillset for a living other than wielding a blade. He eventually considers leaving once he realizes that whatever anchored him to the company is no longer there, with his friends gone and ShinRA completely discrediting itself with human experiments.

It's tragic in retrospect, too; as Ever Crisis points out, Sephiroth knew the company was using him from a young age, but his need to belong and have a purpose was strong enough for him to willingly turn a blind eye to its questionable ethics.

[steampunkforever]

When I heard that Zack Snyder's latest film was an awful two hour slog, the best description for my reaction would fall solidly into "elation." I have a complicated relationship with Snyder's films (and his very attractive forearms), and so the prospect of another bad Zack Snyder film was nothing short of a delight.

Let me explain. Zack Snyder, a man that hasn't made a properly "good" movie in ten years, is a fantastic director. He also makes many fantastic films that aren't very good, but are artistically valuable due to the enthusiasm and artistic intent Snyder imparts to them. It verges on camp, and therefore even though many of his films (Army of the Dead, Sucker Punch) don't quite stick the landing, they're worth watching for what they are. Zack Snyder's Rebel Moon does not fit into this category.

Rebel Moon was a concept Snyder cooked up in college and had been pitching ever since, a Warhammer-40K-meets-Star Wars-meets-Heavy-Metal-Magazine space opera about a resistance against an evil empire. You can tell. This movie would've been more rewarding as a TV show or a video game, but instead we got it as a Netflix Original two-parter with a directors cut already scheduled for release before the second chapter comes out. Despite all this, and all the time Snyder had to develop the concept, Rebel Moon is simply forgettable.

I think the key to Snyder films, and to understanding his fanbase beyond the twitter surface-level reads of "bro movies" from people who think "boys go to jupiter" is insightful commentary on gender, is that the Snyder filmography is above all else about potential.

Sucker Punch notable does not succeed at sticking the landing for me as a movie, but the concepts and potential to elevate the movie from iconic to legitimately great film are all there, it just needs a bit of work. This is the entire conceit of Snyder's directors cut releases. "The movie you just saw had some cool stuff in it? What if I told you there was a version where my vision was unrestricted by studio input?" and they eat this up because Zack Snyder is like if Micheal Bay was a camp auteur.

Rebel Moon, and I'll give it credit for essentially being the first half of a 4-hour movie, doesn't have that potential. There is no need to rewrite the film or fix it for Zack, because there's nothing to salvage. Army of the Dead, for all its F-stop nonsense, had concepts and sequences (and a soundtrack) that made it stand out from other films in the genre.

Despite some fun creature design and that maddening F-stop fixation, Rebel Moon is an empty film, where there are no puzzle pieces worth rearranging into the golden vision of what could have been.

[lookismstuff]

Reaction to Ep 461

SPOILERS ALERT

I've been rooting for Daniel (Hyungseok) vs Logan (Taesang) forever so I'm pretty pleased. Then again now that I remember it, wasn't Logan defeated already in the homeless/first love arc?? I thought it was impressive that Danny did it but did later events make Logan dismiss it as trivial? Or did PTJ forget it? But then again in one of his vlogs he mentioned that older arc specifically as Danny's trigger for growth so yeah maybe Logan simply just deleted it from his brain?

Anyway some of the other fights unfortunately happened off-screen when in fact these are what readers had been waiting for.

Well, let's open for a jump scare review.

HAHAHAHA [INSERT EVIL LAUGHTER]

The fight between Vin (Hobin) vs Changyoong itself imho is a bit underwhelming, but the fun side of it is Changyoong is utterly traumatized by scared of Vin.

Vin has no choice but to show his polycoria now since there's no replacing his super dark sunglasses for now (here's my begging PTJ to insert real consequences of this condition, especially since Vin's happened because of an accident).

Again I'm pretty satisfied with the Daniel vs Logan fight, even more so because there's a new flashback of a humiliating bullying scene that we've never seen in the school episodes (earliest arc). And to those who think that it's too much...well where I come from there are such awful bullies it's bordering on human rights violation (or even a crime).

But the most satisfying comeback from Danny is not the fight itself imho. It's the way he basically told Logan that he didn't care anymore (in my last review I mentioned that he doesn't think Logan is worth his time...and I was right).

Also glad that PTJ erased whatever feelings of amicability between Vin and Logan that was briefly present during the God Dog arc. I feel like it's distanced Vin further from his earlier bully self (I do wish that he would apologize to Duke/Deokhwa tho, especially since he's now a huge fan).

Also too bad that we are not privy to two action scenes. First, no onscreen action scenes with Jay at all. Like none. I get that things are going at the speed of lightning right now but I enjoy watching Systema and Arnis duels and Jay's action scenes were always enjoyable to me due to the elements of surprise (kinda like reading Gray/Sieun's fight scenes from Weak Hero).

Second, Jake (Gimyung) was there (he's the sleeping dude in the ambulance) AS AN ALLIED MEMBER HECK YEAH. AND I'M GLAD TO SEE HIM IN CASUAL CLOTHES (looking much younger and fresher after a staycation in a hoodie). But we saw nothing of what he did.

Well at least he left this in his wake (which impressed Taejin and a new goon Jo Yisoo).

Overall, I'm looking forward to reading the next episode. I suppose having Jake around means that out of the three experiment victims, Samuel (Seongeun) is going to be rescued by Jake, then Johan (Yohan) by Zack, and Big Danny by Danny.