#Stair of the turks

[lorestars]

Scala dei turchi II  Film - Lomo LC-A

[kali-mav]

What I hate (technically wise) drawing:

My favourites:

[rottenpumpkin13]

It's been a while...how are things going in the Shinra/SOLDIER groupchat? 👉🏻👈🏻

Highlights From The SOLDIER Group Chat #3

• Director Lazard used to be the admin, but he had a nervous breakdown after Zack kept changing the group chat name to "Therapy" and having one-on-one sessions with people where he offered horrible advice.

• The final straw was Sephiroth asking how he should cope with his desire for a connection with an older, maternal figure. Zack linked a dating site for MILFs.

• Sephiroth is now the admin. At least four people now have Sephiroth's contact name to Admin-Roth.

• Sephiroth has removed Genesis on numerous occasions and for various reasons, the most recent one being:

Genesis: Hello! How is everyone today?

[Sephiroth has removed Genesis]

• Angeal sending those glittery and colorful good morning gifs (the type grandmas send)

• The following conversation:

Lazard: Sephiroth, kindly remove 'Cloud Strife'. This group chat is exclusive to SOLDIER members only for safety reasons.

[Cloud Strife is now an admin]

Lazard: .........

• Kunsel changing the group chat name to "Reasons why Genesis is a bitch" and the reasons pouring in immediately after. Genesis got into a verbal dispute with four people through voice messages.

• The following conversation:

Lazard: Which one of you placed an entire thanksgiving turkey in the break room fridge?

Zack: I did. That's my afternoon snack.

Sephiroth: I must apologize. I took a leg thinking it was for everyone to share.

Zack: No worries bud :)

• The trend of sending pictures of Sephiroth's hair strands throughout the 49th floor.

• The time when Angeal and Genesis were seriously arguing over whether a taco is a hot dog or a sandwich, and Sephiroth changed the group chat name to 'They have kissed before' mid-argument.

• The following conversation:

Zack: @Angeal Dude your pancake recipe does NOT work.

Angeal: Lol. Are you making it right now?

Zack: Yup.

Angeal: Alright show me how far you got. Maybe I can help :)

Zack:

[Angeal has left the group]

• Genesis sending this image whenever one or more messages are deleted:

• Kunsel regularly sends the weekly gossip rundown and his messages look like this:

☕⭐ TEA OF THE WEEK☕⭐

- FRIENDSHIP: Rufus Shinra and Lazard Deusericus seen whispering outside the president's office. Both men were holding a roll of duct tape and a long rope. They dispersed when asked what they were doing.

- MYSTERY: Did Professor Hojo really fall down the main entrance stairs or was he pushed? Sources say Sephiroth was there when it happened and looked pleased when the professor was taken away on a stretcher.

- DRAMA: Genesis is seen in the breakdown having a verbal dispute with a revolving door after the tail of his coat gets caught in it.

- HAIR: Angeal finds his first gray hair, Roche gets his tasteful honey highlights, Sephiroth's hair grows another inch, Throwback images of Rude (of the Turks) resurface where he is seen with hair, and an online discussion on the Red Leather forums over wether or not Genesis's hair is actually brown sparks controversy.

• The following exchange:

Sephiroth: Can you all please type out your names and post them. Someone stole my PHS and changed everyone's contact names.

Genesis: Genesis Rhapsodos.

Sephiroth: Ah. This one was untouched.

Genesis: ????? What am I saved as?

Sephiroth: Wannabe Sephiroth.

Genesis: ALAKSHSJSJSKDHSJ FUCK YOU

Zack: Zack!

Sephiroth: Thank you, Distracted Hedgehog.

Zack: ...........

Angeal: I'm Angeal.

Sephiroth: As of right now. Before this you were "Patron Saint of Hypocrisy."

Angeal: That's.....a little mean.

Cloud: Cloud Strife.

Sephiroth: Hahaha. This one was very clever.

Cloud: What is it?

Cloud: Well??

Cloud: ........

Cloud: It's Chocobo isn't it?

Sephiroth: My apologies.

• Zack has a habit of procrastinating by sending voice messages that are essentially podcasts. In one of them, you can hear him trip over a wet floor sign, fall, and continue talking about his favorite hair gel brand like nothing happened.

[gcldfanged]

Kalm

Is everybody who plays Queen's Blood gonna be like this (a weirdo)?

Gossip about "Rufus having to step up cuz his old man's on his deathbed" <---!!!

Oh joy, time to spend 5 rounds watching this player suck at Queen's Blood.

Aerith's idea of a good time: running up a shitload of stairs, can't relate.

Choppers arrived and I got so excited I MIGHT see Turks that I legitimately gave myself a stomach ache while eating- Just some mook soldiers... :T

Broden knowing about Kalm getting bombed, tho.

[clover-exe2009]

{When you flinch away from them}

Eddsworld: Tom,Paul,pat

———————————————————

Tom: 

You moved in with the boys after you left your abusive family you could say you have some trama under your belt 

he was in one of his fights with tord, he had stormed out of the room you were just come down stairs to get edd cause your Tv was 

messed up “oh hell-“ *pow* Tom punches a hole in the wall and turns to look at you the look in his eyes was a enough to make you flinch 

And a split second toms heart drop in when the Effects of panic hit him like a turk

“Love” you slowly backed away from him “ nonononon shit” he pulls you into a tight bear hug “ y-y/n I’m sorry I didn’t mean to” 

he whimpers you didn’t know what to say at this point all you could do was hug him back

Pat: 

You just got out of abusive relationship well over 3 months ago, but pat is everything you would in a man he’s so kind to you

And your trying your best to get back in the whole physical tunch thing, one morning you were in the kitchen making breakfast 

“ good morning love” pat said hugging you from behind you flinched away from him as a result poor pat looked like a confused 

Puppy 

“who did it” I was shocking to see pat go from his golden retriever Mood to a scarly calm but angry one

“P-pat” he kissed the top of your head “ don’t worry I’ll as tord to find out for me”

( I gave him a little yandere ending there oops😅)

Paul:

Paul was taking a break from some paperwork he was tord ordered him to do you where at your desk reading 

He had come in your office to see what you were up to “ hello my love” he said wrapping you in his arms 

He was confused when you jumped in his hold he pulled any from you to ask it you were ok but his heart broke 

Seeing you flinched away from him “Meine Liebe?” Panic was all he felt at that point all he could do was hold you

[himemiyasanthy]

rules: post the first sentence of your last ten posted fics to see if there's a pattern tagged by @cloudstrifing (over a month ago 💀) 1. Vash is used to solitude. 2. Twin suns beat down on what was once a lush desert oasis. 3. Wolfwood was as far as he could get from July when it imploded. 4. Vash is alone in his room when Wolfwood barges in like he’s sure Vash will welcome him. 5. "Can't you cut a guy a break? Out of the goodness of your heart?" 6. The first job Tseng undertakes as a newly-minted Turk is meant to be an easy one. 7. Vash is never the same—after July. 8. Xiao Xingchen is sweeping the stairs of the temple, though rather more listlessly than usual. 9. Lan Xichen learns early on that A-Yao has a smile that isn’t for the rest of the world—is only for Xichen himself. 10. Xue Yang is just finishing off the last of his closing tasks when he sees Xiao Xingchen waiting outside the large windows near the entrance. unlike char there is a very clear pattern of starting with the POV character's name jngjg (#7 is an exception, that's a wolfwood pov fic)

[leeus-writing]

Coconut Cake

Anon asked: So how do you think Reno & Rufus would meet their non-Turk, non-Shinra employee significant other?

This is

Rufus Cocanut Cake

“Can you stop here, I just want to grab some food,” Rufus sat forward in his driven black car.

He’d much prefer to be driving himself however, given who his father was he couldn’t complain, it was for his safety. There were people who wanted the end of ShinRa, and unfortunately, he had a big target on his back. If they could get to him of course. Rufus was a fantastic shot after all.

“Sir… We have instruction to take you directly t-”

“I don’t care… I am hungry and I’d like to stop at that bakery and get something to eat,” Rufus pointed back a little as the car had moved on from the stop he wanted.

The driver slowed to a stop having listened to the anger in his voice. When Rufus wanted something, he got it.

Tseng grabbed his shoulder and Rufus nodded. Ok, the Turk would be coming to then, that’ll be fine. They were close to some degree and Tseng could be trusted. Rufus stepped out the car and straightened himself up before heading back the way they’d just come. Towards the Bakery.

| |

When you started to sweep the floor ready for closing you did not expect Rufus ShinRa, son of President ShinRa himself to step through the door. You mouth dropped open in surprise.

“v-vice President!?”

You stuttered standing upright. He gave you a smile and walked over to the desk. You blushed and hurried behind the counter.

“How… How can I help you?” you asked.

“Umm… one slice of cake please,” He pointed at the cocoanut and chocolate cake.

You nodded and scooped it into a bag before passing it over with a napkin and fork. Smiling as he took it.

“How much?”

“No no… its free,” you said.

He looked irritated by that comment and fished out five Gill before taking a bite. His eyes widened and he made a happy noise.

“This is amazing!”

“Thank you. I made this myself,” You replied proudly.

“Wow… You own this place?” He asked.

You nodded with a smile on your face. Rufus slowly put the cake down. He loved how happy you looked, just doing what you loved. He was a little jealous. Over how free you were.

“I’ll be coming back…” He said before leaving.

| |

Rufus did return many times and, in the end, you started putting coconut and chocolate cake to one side for when he turned up. That was his favourite, he’d tried others, but the coconut and chocolate was his go to.

Rufus loved talking to you, he got to know how you ended up with the bakery and how it had been a long-time dream.

“I think… I’ll ask her out,” He said to Tseng one day.

“Sir? Do you want me to get the guys to run a background check on her?”

Rufus frowned, why was THIS his response? “No? No, I don’t want you to run a background check on her,” he chuckled a little.

Tseng just nodded and followed you towards the Bakery entry. He was surprised to find you weren’t there. The person almost dropped the cake they were holding.

“Vice President SHINRA!”

“Yes… Hello, where is Y/N?”

“Sir she was taken ill today. Her apartment is upstairs. Sir do you need me to get you anything?”

Rufus just shook his head and left the building heading around the side were the flat entrance was located. He rung the doorbell and listened as you thundered down the stairs. He smiled a little hearing the door unlock and your eye pear through a crack.

“Hello…” A stuffy voice came from behind the door, “Oh Rufus, I’m sorry I couldn’t get your cake today.”

“No y/n I’m just here to see if you’re alright,” he said.

“Oh… I’m full of cold. Disgusting really don’t come any closer.”

Rufus rolled his eyes and pushed the door open. He helped you up the stairs and instructed that you needed to lay down whilst for once, he cooked something for you.

“Rufus?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you said softly before falling asleep.

It would be a scene that replayed itself a few times as you and Rufus began to see each other on a more… intimate basis.

| |

@renohasbigtits

@electric-turks

@kittyplier95

[holly-fixation]

Three... Guards? Ch 9

Summary: Tifa finds Cloud at the train station in Sector Seven. It’s the first time she’s seen him in seven years. But he’s not alone. Three silver haired boys protected him. Three silver haired boys that triggered memories of her hometown. Of steel through her chest. Of SOLDIER First Class. Of Him.

This is their chance to do things right. To protect everyone.

Please Enjoy!

Inspired by the prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien

Chapter 9: New and Familiar

Sector Five's pillar stood just as tall as Sector Seven's, but the view of the untouched under-city churned Strife's core as helicopters flew to each support of the upper-city. 

He wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't supposed to happen. 

Strife prayed his theory was correct. He hoped against everything he knew of the Shinra Electric Power Company that putting himself in place of the destruction they craved could save thousands of lives. He hoped his presence on this pillar did not immediately send orders to detach another. He hoped they would do the right thing for once in their greedy lives.

As he sprinted up the stairs, he couldn't help but glance at the only garden under Midgar, the waterfall and flowers still perfectly pristine. The only location in ten miles with any connection to The Planet. 

He only hoped whatever his comrades, his enemies, and… well, himself were doing in Shinra HQ was going well. As for him, he reached the control platform just as the Shinra helicopter landed.

Now Strife stood face to face with Tseng, the leader of the Turks. He almost sighed in relief. If there was any chance he could keep every plate from falling, it was through negotiation with this particular Turk.

“You’re the one that intercepted Reno and Rude.” Tsung held his arms behind his back, scanning his enemy. “I must say, that is no easy feat. But your string of luck ends here.”

Strife clenched his jaw before slowly raising both of his hands, deliberately forcing stability into his voice. “I surrender. But only if you leave every plate standing.”

“Excuse me?” Though keeping his face steady, this was clearly a surprise.

“You can use me to fulfill Shinra’s agenda without causing this needless destruction. Whatever advantage they’re looking for, whatever propaganda they’re attempting now, do it using me. But leave every pillar alone.”

“That’s a bold ask,” The suit nearly mocked. “We will not fail this time.”

Strife lowered his head. “Tseng, if anyone succeeds in this mission, I will permanently end your duty as head of the Turks without hesitation. It’s your choice. I understand Turks get things done. I’m giving you the option to do so without killing anyone.”

There was silence for a moment, thoughts and scenarios running through both of their minds. What could go right? What could go wrong? What could happen if pillars were left standing? Would the public still react? Would the president allow any change?

“One moment.”

Strife nodded.

The Turk turned his back and whipped out his phone. “We have a proposition offered. One that possibly knocks out a few birds at once without any deaths. Are you interested, Mr. President?”

* * * 

The executive meeting on the upper floors had just begun. The president, the head of weapons development, the head of security, the director of the space division, and even the head of the science department all sat in a single location. Secluded. Out of the way. Uniformed. 

But it was only a matter of time before security caught the party trying to force their way into the lab, as well as the meeting coming to its end all together. 

They needed to make a choice: enter the lab with Aerith as bait, break down the door with guns blazing and attracting every remaining shred of security to hunt them down, or risk following Hojo after the meeting through the entrance door and by doing so immediately giving the man with the most control over the lab the knowledge and possible weaponry to attack them and defend himself.

It wasn’t much of a choice. For some.

Cloud could not allow this, and the entire party argued in the hallways near the escalators. “Aerith, absolutely not-”

“Chadley said ‘potential specimens can enter the lab’. I can get the door open and we can go from there. I might even know the way!”

“You really think you can handle that, flower girl?” Barret interrupted. “If anything goes wrong, you’ll be in the same situation as the kid.”

“Barret’s right,” Tifa agreed as she held Aerith’s arm softly. “It’s incredibly dangerous.”

“We can’t just wait outside until someone leaves, that’s too suspicious.” Her green eyes flared with determination. “Hojo won't risk harming me, not seriously at least. We can use that against him.”

“Pray tell… what do you think will happen when that door opens…?” Yazoo questioned legitimately. 

“Two security bots try to capture me, Hojo immediately learns we're there, and we fight through the halls to find Kadaj. It's just one extra step, guys.” She gave them a true smirk. “We've got this.”

“We both know what Hojo is capable of. No we do not got this.”

Aerith insisted with small pouts, Cloud countered with anything he could remember from his time with Hojo, Barret admittedly refused, and Tifa kept expressing her worry. As they discussed, the two Remnants silently made their way next to each other, speaking lowly to avoid any outside detection. 

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Loz whispered first. 

Yazoo nodded. “The president did say we belong in the labs…”

“So we can go through the door and find Brother!” The eldest finished with a victorious little jump, but his volume gained the eyes of the adults. They both looked down until Aerith explained another advantage to her side, to which all others began countering and parrying without delay. 

“Keep your voice down…”

Loz scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry…”

There was a pause as Yazoo thought. “It couldn't hurt to try, would it…?”

“I'll go first,” The larger one proclaimed confidently before striding to the door. 

“By all means…” The middle child gestured ahead before following behind. 

As the party debated, Loz took out one of the lower floor key cards and rapidly scanned to enter. Of course, this was met with buzzes of defiance at a constant pitch. After about fifteen scans, a red light activated above the door. A camera. The entire party glared at them now, Cloud roughly two seconds away from tackling the boy. The eldest brother ignored the attention and waved before tugging his hair and pointing to his eyes.

The door opened.

The middle sibling held his arm over the entrance to avoid automatic closing. 

No one spoke, the infuriated and worried pause impossible to avoid.

“You’re going to get yourselves killed,” Cloud scolded.

“Are you coming or not…?”

The door clicked in activation. No sensor obeyed the object in the way. Every one of them dashed through, barely making it as the lock snapped back into place.

“They know we’re here now,” Barret warned before anyone had the chance to move.

“So prepare for a fight…”

Loz grinned before popping his knuckles. Everyone followed suit with less enthusiasm, drawing blades, guns, and fists to the ready. They made their way up the stairs, Barret silently praying this was the last flight he’d see today. Through the poorly lit hallways, sealed doors which opened at their approach, and passed many miniature mako tanks, they spotted two scientists, lab coats and all.

However, neither professional attacked, only holding their hands in the air and pointing to the elevator with the folding metal gate.

“Tifa, stay back with the boys,” Cloud commanded, concerned by the immediate compliance of personnel. “Aerith, Barret, come ahead with me.”

“But, Big Brother-”

“No buts,” He snapped at the whining. “If you boys get hurt, it’s on me. If you two get captured because you refuse to listen, you will never hear the end of it from any of us. Am I clear?”

They took a step behind Tifa, looking down as they nodded. Tifa gave a soft nod in confirmation before watching the two scientists present. Cloud, Barret, and Aerith moved ahead, watching the various mako tanks with the occasional movement within.

“Keep your eyes on them.” Tanks filled with monsters were nothing new to Cloud, but he needed to be sure the rest of the group knew to prepare. Each clunk of the grates beneath their feets echoed off the walls of the lab, their march forward never stopping.

Despite Cloud’s concern, no monsters crawled out of containment. The group reached the gate and realized it was an elevator, pressing the button to open the door. Barret motioned the boys and Tifa over, and though the boys ran ahead, the woman couldn’t help but glance at the dog-like creature with a flame on its tail trapped within one of the clear containers, free of mako with no other freedoms in the world as it slept, its tail flicking in mindless patterns.

“Tifa, come on.”

Right. Strife’s warning. She needed to go ahead, to be the first person in every room to protect Cloud. And to an extent…to protect everyone. 

The darkness of the lab never ceased, not in the elevator and not on the second level. Tifa scanned ahead for the monster she was warned about, but the blond dashed past her. 

“Cloud!”

He didn't stop at the sound of Aerith's voice. He found their target. 

He found Kadaj. 

“Brother!” The boys shot ahead too. No enemies blocked their path. No monsters were released into the hallways or chambers. Still Barret chose to keep watch as the others ran to the child’s container.

Only his eyes met them. He was on his side, unable to lift his head, an unknown liquid pooled in front of him with dried trails on his skin and bandages. There was relief, ever so slightly on his face from seeing them, but his pain continued to consume his entire body.

“Barret-”

“I got you, boy. Stand back,” The older man didn’t even need to hear the plan to know what Cloud was thinking. Everyone backed up as Barret readied his gun arm and fired at the electronic lock. It sparked with disconnected electricity before the curved glass slid open to free the specimen from danger. Well, free in theory.

“I got him!” Aerith yelled as she kneeled at his side, a powerful healing spell growing between her prayer held hands. The two brothers stood back, staring in horror at their youngest’s frail state.

Kadaj gritted his teeth and opened his mouth.

“Don’t even try.” Cloud placed a hand on an uninjured section of his arm, denying a single word exit. “Let Aerith heal you first.”

He blinked slowly in affirmation before his inhuman eyes moved to the woman.

“Bless them with your love and grace,” Aerith whispered before raising a hand to the sky. Rings of green magic pulsed out of her with healing pedals filling the air, gusts of wind swirling around her body to the ceiling. Everyone felt a wave of relief as even the minorest of injuries suddenly mended.

But Kadaj shrieked the moment the spell hit him, his hoarse voice piercing through the rippled air. He tried to push away, to protect himself even as Cloud lifted and held him caringly like a child, trying to soothe the agony. Once the magic finally finished its course, his head of silver hair slumped against Cloud's sweater with raspy breaths, anguished exhaustion forcing him into silence with closed eyes in another desperate attempt at rest. Not a single wound on his little body healed.

“Why didn't it work…?” Cloud's voice was low and precarious. 

“I don't understand… He was fine when I healed him in Sector Five…”

“What did Hojo do to him?!” Barret's voice boomed. 

“We'll figure that out later…” Yazoo spoke up, using his cunning to keep a level head. “We need to get him out of here before Hojo returns…”

Cloud nodded, adjusting Kadaj as he stood, the boy hissing between breaths until all movement stopped.

“Loz, the elevator…”

“On it.” The eldest rushed through the room so fast a blue trail lagged before catching up with him as he pressed the button. But nothing happened, not even a glow in confirmation. “Uh, guys? It’s not responding? What do we do?!” They couldn’t climb down the shaft with Kadaj in his current condition. It was absolutely out of the question. 

“Don’t panic, Loz. There’s another way out of here. There has to be,” Tifa came right up behind him and held his shoulders softly. “We just need to look, okay?”

He nodded, accepting her words before he panicked.

Though looking wasn’t exactly difficult. The observation room protected by glass above captured everyone’s attention. 

“What’s that sound?” Loz asked out of nowhere.

“What sound? I don’t hear anything,” Tifa explained.

“Something must have escaped on the lower level… It sounds like claws…-?!” 

Rhythmic clanking grew closer and closer, even the non-enhanced members of the group able to hear its echo as whatever creature climbed rapidly. Barret and Yazoo aimed their firearms at the gap between the floor and the wall. Tifa, Aerith, and Loz guarded Cloud and Kadaj.

Suddenly a red and orange beast launched off the walls of the lab and landed in front of them, seemingly scanning them all before dashing through the glass of the observation chamber.

The boys looked at each other and shrugged as did Aerith before the group followed it through the side door. 

It galloped through the control room and down the hallway to another elevator. But this machine was different, a massive cylindrical structure rather than hidden in a nook. The beast halted before it crashed into the closed door, the smallest huff leaving it in defeat. Then it turned to the party with a low growl, slowly approaching them.

Again they stood on their guard, the brothers protecting Cloud as always, but Aerith held a hand to her side to ease them. “Stop.”

The creature leaned away from her touch as she stepped forward. 

“This child's a friend.” She delicately reached to place her hand on its head, and it eventually accepted her touch, the slighted sparkles of healing magic twinkling from her hand before she backed away. 

“What… is it?” Tifa questioned once it calmed down. 

“A fascinating question.”

Most of them stepped back, but the boys and Aerith stayed still. 

“Did it just talk?!”

It sat down, its tail flicking the small flame casually. “You asked what 'it' is. I am that which you see before you. Nothing more.” Its gaze turned stern to each one of them. “I'd appreciate it if we simply left it at that. Agreed?”

“Is that… a thirteen…?” Yazoo observed, reading the tattoo on the creature’s front leg: XIII.

“‘Red Thirteen.’ The designation given to me by Hojo.”

Tifa perked up ever so slightly. “Then...you must have another name. What is it?”

Red glanced down and away in reservation, like a child refusing to tell the truth.

“We should focus on getting out of here,” Cloud called them back on track before glancing at the creature. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Anything is better than this lab,” He affirmed.

“Then watch our backs.” Cloud stepped forward before he suddenly winced, clenching Kadaj close as weakness and headaches suddenly claimed him. The boy reacted to the same invisible force at the exact same time, grabbing the blond with all the strength in his damaged body. 

Aerith recognized the signs as Tifa yelled their names, quickly approaching and trying to take Kadaj out of Cloud's arms. But neither one of them acknowledged or noticed her, their vision trapped between flashes and echos. The boy was trapped in the SOLDIER’s hold.

“What's happening?!” Barret questioned as Cloud walked forward, two mako blue eyes flicking between the floor and the cylindrical elevator. 

“Brother!”

“Cloud!”

The resonating heartbeat and biting pain in their minds imprisoned them from their allies. 

Mother. I have come for you.

Both Cloud and Kadaj forced their eyes forward. They knew that voice well. All too well.

Mother. Together we can reclaim our world.

“Je…no…” Cloud didn’t notice the sounds leaving his lips. He kept stumbling. Kept reaching despite the boy’s similar groans of pain. 

Mother. They’re here again.

“Oh… Ah…” Stepping closer and closer to the source as the voice only grew louder and louder, each impact of his feet were silent within the cacophony of their minds. 

Only when they reached the elevator did the voice and chaos silence, but the heartbeat remained. Cloud carefully released one hand while keeping Kadaj balanced as he reached out to touch the elevator door.

Then it happened.

First the massive heart, veins and arteries connected with seals in a fruitless effort to resurrect the creature. Air bubbles emptying from the tank where the female-like body stood, a machined helmet attached to dozens of wires suspending the body upright. Their vision settled on exactly their heights, the legs and markings of the body claiming their sight completely.

Both spoke one word in sync before collapsing to the ground.

“Mo…ther…”

A chorus of ‘Cloud’ and ‘Brother’ went unheard as the party ran after the two. Thankfully, even in Cloud’s weakened and mindless state, he protected the boy, Kadaj’s unconscious body landing protectively into Cloud’s instead of crashing into the ground.

“What the hell just happened?!”

“We have to get them out of here,” Aerith avoided Barret’s question. 

“I can carry the blond,” Red stated as he approached around the bodies, sitting above their heads and refusing to move forward without permission.

Tifa tried to wake Cloud with soft shakes of his body, but nothing happened. 

“I'll get the kid.” Barret kneeled down next to them.

Finding that more people crowding around them was invasive rather than helpful, the two boys tested the new elevator. And once again, nothing happened. No indication. No click. No movement.

“We’re trapped…”

“It may seem that way, yes.” The sudden voice over the speakers claimed their full attention, everyone ready to fight. 

Hojo.

The meeting was over. They ran out of time.

“Ah, every one of my prized specimens appears at my door as I’m stuck explaining drivel to a bunch of neanderthals. Well at least you’re all here now.”

“Yeah! And we ain’t going down without a fight!” Barret cocked his weapon. 

“Relax. With the state of the Sephiroth Remnant and your blond friend, I don’t believe combat is your best option right now.”

Sephiroth Remnant?

All eyes landed on the two boys. They stared back, eyes wide, imaginary silver tails fluffed beyond comprehension.

“If you would kindly leave through the elevator you came, you will be escorted by a sufficient force to your cell to rest. I’m sure you’ll be familiar with it, won’t you, Aerith?”

She glared hard at the speakers before armored robots suddenly surrounded them, weapons lowered but prepared for resistance. Could they fight with Kadaj and Cloud out of commission? Absolutely. Would they risk harming the two by trying, trapped with no escape inside this lab? Absolutely not.

The group surrendered, and the robotic security force allowed them to lift their fainted comrades and carry the two through the halls of the lab. Only once did they pass Professor Hojo, who only muttered excitedly at all the new experiments possible with all these new specimens in his custody, a victorious grin never leaving his face. 

But first, he needed to check on his initial experiment. The captured remnant’s reaction completely surprised him, lining up with none of the hypotheses he developed before injection. The scientist made his way up the elevator and surveyed the damage within the chamber. Minimal. Only a broken window and lock. Nothing that would take too long to fix. However, the opened chamber held far more interest to him as he adjusted his black glasses for a clear view.

The puddle of the purple ooze was singed, its surface cooked to a blue in perfect ripples, as if water frozen in time during a storm.

Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. 

.

.

.

.

To be continued...

Three Guards Chapter List

Thanks for reading!

Author’s note: Well, I meant to jump back to Strife’s perspective at the end but Hojo had other plans! Strife’s new Shinra adventure will have to wait, and a certain someone is waiting in the dark. That’s all I’ll give you for now.

I will warn you though: This fic only has a few chapters left before it must go on hiatus. Since this is Remake’s continuity, and Rebirth is so close, it might be the best option to wait. We’ll see. And of course I’ll keep you posted.

[ayda--demir]

Mistletoe 2022 | Canon

Where: Outside of Nevra’s home

When: Dec 9, 2022

Who: @ayaz--ates​

Ayda hated running late. 

She had sent Nevra a few texts letting her know that she’d be there in ten minutes. 

Ever since the two of them were officially out of the Turk gang, they started making their own traditions. Christmas was something that she was lightly exposed to growing up considering that she was Muslim, but she loved the feeling that would float in the air. 

That the possibility of miracles could really happen.

Now it was about spending time together. Reminding each other that no matter what happened throughout the year -- the bullshit they would endure, the anxiety attacks she would have when Nevra was sent out, that this time of the year they would make for them and celebrate. It would involve corny decorations, their love for their Christmas tree, and Ayda would make sure that there was always cooked food in the house over the month for Nevra. It was the one time she would have a drink, or two, because she knew with Nevra, she was in a safe place. 

It was their way of healing. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Ayda mumbles, slowing her steps when she comes up to Nev’s home. Normally, over this month she ended up spending more time here, the couch becoming her bed, or the floor if she wanted to spread out more. 

Her hand rested on the handle of the door, lingering, when a flicker from the window caught her attention, showing two shadows inside – barely making out a second one, but there were two heads. They weren’t expecting anyone, usually it was only the two of them, 

She slowly opened the door and it was his voice that made her stop in her tracks. Berat. What was he doing here? Ayda pulled out her phone to see if Nevra texted her back letting her know they were having company, but nothing. Still only her texts saying that she was running a little late. 

Quietly she moved inside, towards the living room, seconds from making her presence known when she caught sight of Nevra and Berat kissing from one of the mirrors on the wall. Her head started to spin, a hand coming up to lean on the wall, and she felt like the walls were closing in on her. She couldn’t breathe. 

Air, I need air.

Her body screamed at her to get out, and she did, where she made it back outside and the door shut softly behind her. Her small frame leaned against it and all she could see, eyes open or closed, was the two of them locked in a kiss – her ex boyfriend and her best friend. 

Tears instantly sprung to her eyes and a tsunami of emotions crashed upon her, wave upon wave of hurt, betrayal, humiliation, never being enough, rippled through her. Nevra would always be the one he would chase after. The pieces of her heart that were barely hanging on dropped to the pit of her stomach and she felt that empty shell start to swallow her; the place she so desperately tried to pull herself out of. Ayda didn’t want to be that person anymore. 

She wanted the sunshine and light. Ayda wanted to feel the warmth and let it envelop her. 

A hand comes up to wipe under her eyes when a crunch of a branch catches her attention and her head snaps up to see Ayaz coming towards the house. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This was bad, real bad. There was no way she could let him go inside and see them. There may have been a small part that thought about it for a second, but no matter what, she had to protect Nevra, and she was going to be stupid enough to protect Berat. How much more could she allow him to tear her down?

The Turk steps down the stairs, putting on smile to hide the hurt that was slowly killing her on the inside. Hiding emotions was something she was good at. 

“Ayaz, I am surprised to see you. How are you doing?” Ayda needed to keep some small chit chat, where she was certain he would remind her how useless she was, but she would bare it for them. 

“Are you joining Nevra and I for dinner tonight?” That could definitely be a deterring factor for him to stay away. He wouldn’t want to spend an evening with her around. 

[lorestars]

Scala dei turchi I  Film - Lomo LC-A 

[rottenpumpkin13]

What do you think Sephiroth and Rufus’ dynamic would be like if they were friends?

Scratch that. Can I pleeaaase have a small bit of crack fic that has them as good friends getting up to shenanigans together? I feel like they’d be the same type of idiot with different packaging. 🙏

An attempt was made! I'm also obsessed with writing them as friends. Here's another take on what their dynamic would be like.

. • .⋆｡⋆☆��｡. °:. *⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Neither Sephiroth nor Rufus were ones to adhere to tradition, yet there was one that the two men could agree on; one routine and simple enough for them to meet in the middle. They met once every three days near the secluded cafeteria on the second level of the Skyview Hall, first thing in the morning, when the only people in line were the drowsy zombies coming off their night shifts and the coffee was it's strongest. 

Sephiroth, always punctual, stood with Rufus's cup of coffee in hand while gingerly sipping his own. They had the same order—bitter black coffee with two sugars and nothing else. 

As Rufus sailed up from the stairs. Dark Star was at his heels, dashing past him eagerly and pouncing up to Sephiroth with a wagging tail. Sephiroth smiled, setting his cup atop the small table and leaning down to give the dog a quick scratch behind his ear. 

"Any chance that has alcohol in it?" Rufus eyed the coffee disdainfully. 

Sephiroth stood back up.  "I assume that sums up your head space.” He offered the cup to Rufus, who groaned and accepted it nonetheless.

"You have no idea. You know what he said now? That I'm inexperienced, pretentious and what was given to me alone won't guarantee me the presidency.” Rufus took a sip, wrinkled his nose, and set the cup back down on the table. 

Sephiroth hummed pensively, "Implying that the inheritance is not promised to you.”

“By now, I'm beginning to wonder if it ever was.” Rufus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, blue rubber ball. 

Dark Star stood to attention, his tail wagging as he eagerly watched Rufus throw the ball across the empty cafeteria. The two men watched the hound bark and run after the ball, startling a passing group of suits who nearly spilled their coffees. 

"Tell me, what other than death is promised?" Rufus leaned with his back against the railing, resting his elbows. 

"Suffering," Sephiroth replied without missing a beat, earning a side-long look and sly smile from Rufus.

"Ever the pessimist, General.” 

"As if you asked an optimistic question," Sephiroth shot back, taking another sip of his coffee. 

Rufus watched Dark Star return with the now chewed up ball between his teeth. He quickly accepted it before throwing it down the stairs, where the dog quickly ran after it. 

"If I wanted to ask a pessimistic question, all I need to do is ask of the last time you saw your father.”

The immediate shiver that ran down Sephiroth's spine did not go unnoticed by the Vice President, who’s smile quickly faded, being replaced with a serious frown. 

"You know you don't need to answer,” Rufus slipped his arms from the railing, crossing them over his chest and looking away. “I'm only joking.” 

Sephiroth shook his head, looking down at his empty coffee cup. "I'm due to see Professor Hojo in two hours.” 

Rufus arched a single eyebrow, tapping his fingers on his arms. "Oh? May I ask what for?" 

Sephiroth tossed the to-go cup in the nearby trash ad shrugged. "The usual... monitoring Mako levels, examinations…..collections…." 

His voice trailed off, prompting Rufus to uncross his arms, turning his full attention to the other man.

"He's still—?" Rufus shook his head, truly at a loss for words given the implication. 

Sephiroth crossed his own arms now, the creak of the fabric of his coat voicing his discomfort when he was at a loss for words. 

Rufus's expression was grave. "Would you like me to... request you for something? Tseng can find a reason to need you for a mission with the Turks.” 

Sephiroth shot him a blank look. 

"I appreciate the offer, but it would only delay the appointment. You know how he is….” Sephiroth sighed. “Patient, but brutal.” 

Rufus fell silent, but only for a moment as he contemplated his next plan. "What time do you get out?"

"Around 18," Sephiroth replied. “It's a full day affair.” 

"Good. I'll be waiting for you when you get out," Rufus declared, reaching for his coffee again. 

Sephiroth’s confusion was made palpable by the crease on his brow. “There's no need,” he replied. I'm used to these appointments. Dealing with it alone afterward isn't a problem.”

Rufus shot him a look over his coffee cup. "It would be a problem for me,” he said matter-of-factly. 

"I'm not you," Sephiroth countered.

"Correct. You wouldn't last a day in my shoes," Rufus parried. 

"And you can't fit in mine, you'd trip," Sephiroth retorted with a teasing smile that made Rufus roll his eyes as he drained the last of his subpar coffee. 

Dark Star came back at that moment, looking dejected without the chewed up ball—however there was a sad piece of foam between his teeth that told them what had happened to it. 

"Just come to my apartment when you're out," Rufus said with a shrug. “Be there at 19” 

Sephiroth couldn't conceal his amused laugh. “Genesis did warn me about strange men inviting me over to their places.”

Rufus let out an unimpressed “ha!” as he looked back at the SOLDIER. "You wish I had Rhapsodos' ulterior motives. I plan on wining and dining you, yes, but not in that way.”

"Hmm. I'm your excuse to order greasy takeout food.”

"And play a round of Queen's Blood or two," Rufus added, splaying his hands in mock-surrender once his plan was found out. 

"So it's whine and dine, because you always lose and whine about it afterwards,” Sephiroth concluded with a laugh. 

Rufus let his hands drop with a scowl. "I do no such thing."

Sephiroth looked down at Dark Star. "Dee, does your father whine when he loses?" 

Dark Star barked in response. 

Rufus rolled his eyes and began to walk away, but not before waving his middle finger over his shoulder.

Sephiroth laughed and watched Dark Star run after him. 

"Dogs are incredibly intelligent animals," Sephiroth called out to him. 

"19 o'clock," Rufus called back, shooting his friend a final smile over his shoulder. 

[byneddiedingo]

Les Rendez-vous d'Anna (Chantal Akerman, 1978)

Cast: Aurore Clément, Helmut Griem, Magali Noël, Hanns Zischler, Lea Massari, Jean-Pierre Cassel. Screenplay: Chantal Akerman. Cinematography: Jean Penzer. Storytelling is all about information -- what's disclosed and what's concealed, what's shared and what's withheld. It's a kind of tease: How much can you let an audience know and how can you keep them guessing? Usually, but not always, the first bit of information a storyteller gives the audience is a title -- what the story is about. Les Rendez-vous d'Anna is about as straightforward as a title gets: Chantal Akerman is about to tell us a story about someone named Anna and her meetings. Beyond that, it's a matter of waiting for more information. The film starts with a long take, carefully framed as Akerman's shots usually are, almost symmetrical, rigidly squared off: a railroad platform with an opening for stairs leading down to an Ausgang, an exit. There are train lines to the left and the right, and beyond the opening for the stairs there is a telephone booth in the center of the frame, though the placement of the telephone booth doesn't draw special attention to it -- we barely recognize it for what it is until it's in use. The platform is open, so that we can see a bit of the urban distance, but there are no people in sight. We wait, and wait, until finally we hear a train approaching. It pulls to a stop on our right, and soon people appear, apparently having descended from the train somewhere behind the camera, and begin to enter the stairwell. One person, a woman, detaches herself from the crowd and walks beyond the opening to the telephone booth where we see her, from a distance, make a call. The train leaves and soon she emerges from the booth and comes toward us, then turns and descends the stairs. And that's all the information you get in the first two or three minutes of the film. We don't even know where we are yet; we assume that it's a city in Germany, but it could also be Austria or Switzerland. Akerman's films have sometimes been unfairly likened to "watching paint dry," mostly because she seems to feel no urgency to tell us the story. She leaves it to us to glean whatever we can from her long takes, not zooming in or cutting to closeups to give us a sense of what may be important in a scene. Eventually we will learn that the train station is in Cologne, Germany, and that the woman is Anna Silver (Aurore Clément), a filmmaker who has come there for the premiere of one of her films. We don't know whom she has called, but it's a good guess that it was to arrange one of her meetings, the first of which is with a German who goes back to her hotel with her after the screening. They make love, but Anna tells him she doesn't want to make the relationship more permanent. The next day, he says, is his daughter's birthday, and he wants Anna to visit his home, which he shares with his mother and his daughter. During the visit, he tells her about his life, about wartime hardships, about his wife's running away "with a Turk," and much else. (A good deal of the film's subtext concerns Europe in the recession-haunted late 1970s.) At the end of their meeting, we realize we know more about him than we do about Anna herself.

Clément plays Anna as an enigmatically dispassionate woman, someone whom people confide in almost as if they're filling the silence that surrounds her. Over the course of the film she spends almost as much time silently looking out of windows as she does in actual encounters with other people. She has four more "meetings" -- with one of her mother's friends, with a stranger she encounters on a train, with her own mother, and with a lover in Paris. By the end of the film we have learned only snippets of information about Anna, including the fact that she has had a relationship with a woman in Italy, whom she tries to call several times during the days she spends in Cologne and Brussels before her return to Paris, where she currently lives. Her life is a rootless one: In the last scene, she listens to the messages on her answering machine, one of which tells her that she has more meetings the following week in several cities in Switzerland.

The title is accurate: This is a film about meetings, none of them especially conclusive, and none resolving into anything of permanence. Les Rendez-vous d'Anna is, like Akerman's Je Tu Il Elle (1974) and Jeanne Dielman, 23 Commerce Quay, 1080 Brussels (1975), a test of a viewer's patience, of one's willingness to sort through the information presented and to assemble it into something that coheres. But also like them, it's a film that rewards the effort, by sharply reordering one's expectations of what a film can be, how it can illuminate the nature of ordinary exchanges with other people, how it draws attention to the mysteries of the self, and how it can linger in the memory more durably than less demanding ones.

[stingslikeabee]

@ivory-paragon found the beehive . chapter 3

It almost felt like a normal night to Melissa, getting ready to descend the stairs to the ground floor of the Honey Bee Inn and greet her patrons with a warm smile and a kind word while looking nothing short of the queen she had styled herself as. The woman at least looked like she would on such an evening - she was decked in a beautiful emerald gown with designer shoes and with the right amount of jewelry around her neck and digits.

But the small, imperceptible earpiece she had on the right side was the key difference from a regular business day at her brothel and that particular occasion. She happened to be in Kalm, fully fitted for the opera at the city’s main theater, as well as finished with her briefing by the Turks in relation to how she should act if she found herself in trouble, as well as going over certain specific safe words to be used if she happened to be in danger.

For all intents and purposes - Melissa should have not been there; she was not trained for that type of thing, and she was really just a normal woman who had barely seen anything outside of Wall Market for the largest part of her life. But she had refused to listen to reason - this was not something she could sit out and trust others to handle. She had to be there, to see it all with her own eyes - justice for her own girls and colleagues; the assurance that another dreadful thing would not come to pass under the rule of a new Shinra.

And despite the fact that she trusted Rufus (and she really did; despite their rocky start, the young president had given her enough evidence to show his commitment to a different direction than the one chosen by the late Winston), this was bigger than anything - than Corneo, even. This was personal - she needed to be there; it was a visceral, desperate thing.

And so Rufus had relented; more because the Turks were around and they were hardly going at this alone despite being away from Shinra’s home turf. Melissa happened to be in an unique position to know enough to try and blackmail the president to be brought along - very few people were privy to the gruesome details of the experiments they had been uncovering and the links to Neo Midgar. But she hadn’t attempted to do that (and whether it had been because she was aware of how short-lived that experiment would be when she relied on Turk back-up for her business or not, Rufus would never know).

The fact remained that Melissa had pleaded to be allowed to come with him - and the dedication in her eyes and the emotion in her voice couldn’t be faked; this was important for her, far too much to let it be done by third parties, as competent and trustworthy they were.

With one last appraising look at herself in the ample mirror of her suite, Melissa nodded and walked away, making her way to meet Rufus. The plan so far was considerably simple - just some recon to try and identify the man they had an idea of how he was supposed to look like going by a sketch done internally at Shinra and based on the testimonies they had collected from the executives. He was supposedly a reclusive individual - he only ever came to Midgar for these occasions with Winston; for the rest of the time, he remained at his home base in Kalm, and apart from a passion for opera, left his home very rarely.

To be able to find him among other theater-goers and track him to some sort of address they could further investigate would be a big success - and they had gone through the extensive preparation to ensure Melissa knew not only how to react if she found him, but to not give anything away about herself. She should not have a recognizable face outside Midgar - and yet she had been given an entire undercover identity as Isabel Avelar, a Costan woman who happened to have inherited a lot of money from her family (owners of resorts and other touristic facilities) and who now spent her time supporting and financing artistic enterprises all over the globe. At least according to Reno, she looked perfectly Costan (despite not having a drop of blood from the area).

Finding Rufus had been easy - under a false name or not, he still had the same distinctive looks of his lineage. “Good evening - I imagine I should be refraining from using titles tonight?” she asked with a small smile and a knowing look, keeping her voice low and for his ears only (as well as the Turks following their every move and aware of each word). “Reno did not elaborate on who you are supposed to be, though, but I imagine we are on familiar terms with each other?”

[emine--yalaz]

Nine, Ten, Never Breathe Again

The night sings to the Turk. An unsettling monster stirs inside of her and her usual comfort is away. It starts as a small fester, an itch and tick that starts to slowly  build. It always manifests like this. The petite Turk tosses and turns in their bed, sweat coating her body, the blankets and sheets kicked to the floor. Fingers raked through her auburn strands tugging at the roots letting out a ragged moan, like the pain is becoming too much.

The storm needs to be calmed. 

Emine sat up abruptly, dilated eyes flashing open and her fingers grasp tightly, white knuckled, at the fitted sheets and her breathing labours. The adrenaline was becoming unbearable for her and there was only one other way to subdue the impending beast. 

Her legs fall off the bed and she lands quietly on her feet, Kerem’s shirt falling down to her knees. There is no thought in her movement, her body acts on its own accord and leads her downstairs to the living room. Delicate fingers carefully curl around the neck of her cello and the other picks up the bow. Her security blanket. 

The summer air is cool and inviting when she steps out on the patio. A song buzzes at her fingers tips, ready to let the world hear what was eating away at her. Emine perches in the seat turned towards the park. The lights of the street lamps illuminating the ground where shadows dance across in flickering motions. 

The dark oak cello places between her legs, twisting slightly towards her right side where the neck crosses her right shoulder. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and letting the tsunami of waves slam through the barrier, her mind and body becoming one. 

This was a piece Emine has played numerous times. Her fingers slide up and down the neck of the cello, the bow gliding along the strings to let the sounds of the melody erupting from the instrument fill the air. Her body flows with each strike and the crescendo starts to build. She can feel the storm inside of her about to crush like waves along the shoreline, breaking her free, but then she freezes.

The melody is lost and the beast unsettled. 

It was a voice that called, a screeching vile voice that interrupted her playing, uttering words that brought only rage to the beast. 

Red.

The cello is placed carefully to the side and it’s like a light switch has gone off – a killer is unleashed. Slender fingers curl tightly around the bow, the hair of the string slicing into her palm. The pain elicits a moan from her parted lips.

Emine leaves the flat wearing Kerem’s cotton shirt and with her cello bow. She pads silently barefoot down the stairs and out the front door. 

She was a predator out for her prey. There is a rage pulsing in her dilated hues, where some might think she was high on something, it was the high that came natural from her body’s endorphins. 

Her tangled mattes of hair blows in the breeze from the wind, stalking towards him, and he was stupid enough to continue to sit on the bench.

“One, two, Emine’s coming for you.” Each step is calculated and precise. Her voice rang out in a beautiful haunted melody.

“Three, four, better run you whore.” A devious, deadly, smile curves at the edges of her lips, growing wider the closer she gets. This is where her heart should pound fiercely against her rib cage, instead, it matches the tune she sings. 

“Five, six, all the pain inflicts.” The small Turk stands behind him, her tongue sweeping across her bottom lip. Her left hand raises and fingers tangle into his locks tugging his head back sharply to expose his throat for her. 

He goes to open his mouth, from what she can gather he looks to be around her age, drunk and stupid. Deranged wild russet orbs narrow at him in warning to remain quiet. She wasn’t finished with her song.

“Seven, eight, time to meet your fate.” She holds up her cello bow, letting the strings brush delicately across the flesh of his throat whilst her fingers tug harder at his hair.

Her head dips down, letting her lips brush against his ear. She knows the fear that resides in him will switch to fight or flight soon, and the kill had to be made.

“Nine, ten, never breathe again.” She sings the last part of her song, quickly looking up to see his reaction before she lets the music flow once more through her body, his now becoming her cello. 

Staring from the crescendo he so rudely interrupted, the hair of the strings slice into his flesh, pressing down cruelly on his jugular. The bow glides effortlessly across, the strength of the male with his small attempt to move, gone. She watches the life fade from his eyes and his body grow limp.

Emine doesn't stop, the beast was sated, but the song wasn't finished. She knows it by heart, the waves upon wave that crash down with each stride until it comes to an end.

The Turk isn't phased about the now red shirt she wears, or it splattered across her face and hands.

Red is her favourite colour.

Her shadow moves across the flickering light that illuminates the ground, making her way back inside their flat. It's once she's back inside that she fetches her phone and sends a text, where she knows others will clean her mess.

With the electricity dulled and the beast back in slumber, she takes a quick shower before climbing back into bed in a fresh shirt of his. The Sandman pulls her under in a peaceful sleep once her eyes flutter shut and she hugs his pillow close to her body.

Peace.

[leeus-writing]

What could have Been - Reno

The request was for: Reno, Cloud or Rufus! Somehow, maybe through a fortune 🔮 crystal or some kind of event, they get a glimpse at what their life would’ve been like if didn’t become a Turk/didn’t pursue soldier/handled Shinra differently. They see they would’ve been happy, married, kids, had a domestic and comforting life, etc. How would they react knowing that decision would’ve changed so much? This is part one Reno

What could have Been

“What you could have been is what I show, you wish to continue?”

Reno clutched his bleeding arm, the pale grey lady grinned before him a black toothed smile. He took a deep breath and nodded, he wanted to die knowing what he could have had.

| |

“RENO!? RENO!? Oh there you are!” she said with a grin.

Reno knew her, he smiled. He loved her. She was his everything.

“Alright put some trousers on for goodness sake. Rosie and Rowan are waiting to go out!” she snapped at him.

Reno blinked a little confused, Rosie and Rowan? Who were Rosie and Rowan. Go out where was he going out to? He smiled and nodded however, dressing properly before following her down the stairs. He suddenly knew who Rosie and Rowan were. His babies.

A six-year-old girl with hair as red as his stood grinning down at her three-year-old brother. His hair was blonde, and he was mock dancing. They were going out to the park as they had something big to announce to the children. What though, he couldn’t remember, he trusted it would come back to him in time.

Reno bent down and picked up his son who giggled and stretched out his arms to him. His little boy, he kissed his head and roughed his daughters hair before looking towards his wife. She grinned, a hand resting on their belly.

Their third child was in there and he couldn’t wait to tell his other children. Life was good, he was happy.

| |

Reno opened his eyes gasping; he was in a dark dank place. His arm was hurting. Rude hovered above him concern on his face. How long had been out? His wife! His Children! No, he didn’t have a wife or children.

His heart hurt and he began to sob.

| |

@renohasbigtits

@electric-turks

@kittyplier95