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sephirthoughts · 2 months

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Vincent's New Kid Just Dropped CH 13: Deepground Flashback and Present Day, Sephiroth and Cid get a little screentime

RATING: this is a pretty teen-and-up chapter

WARNINGS: disgustingly fluffy family stuff, gratuitous reading of Loveless, Genesis being the world's best onii-chan, referenced torture, phantom pain, PTSD, Vincent being an old man, canon-typical Sephiroth sadness

HE'S JUST A LITTLE GUY

brothers 🖤♥️🤍

also keep this outfit in mind

“Self-care is an essential life skill,” Genesis was saying, as he sat at the table, in Weiss and Nero’s room, gently pushing back Rosso’s cuticles, with a tool from the manicure kit he’d produced from a coat pocket. “We don’t groom and dress for others, but for ourselves. Even if you’re not going out, on a given day, you should take a little time to make yourself feel beautiful.”

“I am not going out any day,” Rosso said disconsolately. “And I don’t care about feeling beautiful, I just want to kill things.”

“Well, live your truth, darling, but self-confidence is an essential battlefield tool. Good grooming habits are a foundational element of self-confidence. Even on the front lines, I always kept my manicure kit with me.”

Rosso appeared skeptical. “You really did?”

“Mn,” he nodded, as he smoothed the rough edges of her fingernails with the crystal emery board. “I consider it a necessary item for survival.”

“A necessary item for survival…” she repeated, gazing dazedly at her newly manicured hands.

When Genesis was satisfied that the girl’s nails were as good as they were going to get, he stowed the tools and zipped up the little case, which had obviously been custom made for him, with an ornate apple tree embossed in the red leather.

“You know what? I want you to have this,” he said, holding it out to Rosso. “You can use it to establish your own pre-slaughter self-care regimen.”

Rosso’s eyes went wide, and she glanced over at Nero and Weiss, who were paying no attention whatsoever. “Me? I can’t…I can’t take such a nice thing, from you.”

“Nonsense, I have a hundred manicure kits. I insist,” Genesis countered, pushing it firmly into her hands. Seeing that she was still hesitant, he added, in a softer tone, “Every girl deserves to have pretty things, little sister.”

That master stroke thoroughly conquered Rosso, who had never been spoken to so kindly, before, let alone received a gift from anyone. She accepted it without further protest, blushing nearly as red as the manicure kit, in her flustered state. “Thank you, b—brother.”

“Don’t mention it. Now then, I think it’s high time we…ahem.” Genesis planted his hands on his hips. “Little brothers? I do admire your unquenchable passion, but if you could remove your tongues from each other’s mouths for long enough to have a conversation, I’d be much obliged.”

“We can talk without our mouths,” Nero informed him, through the darkness link.

“But our sister can’t,” Genesis said aloud. “It is rude to exclude her.”

“They are watching. And listening,” Weiss replied.

“Are they indeed.”

Genesis stepped to the center of the room and scanned the area, quickly spotting the concealed cameras and listening devices, in addition to the openly visible ones. Then he wheeled about, smiled directly into the primary camera, in the ceiling above the door, and raised his middle finger, before he tossed out a sparking and snapping thundara burst.

Rosso gasped and the two boys gave a jolt of surprise, as it struck the camera dead-on, and went crackling along precise and specific paths through the metal walls, instantly frying all the surveillance equipment, while leaving the lights and other systems intact.

“I do dislike being spied upon,” he sneered, dusting off his hands. “Now, tell me why the hell I can hear you two in my head. And why I get such a strong feeling, as if…I don’t know. As if we’re all actually blood related.”

“We don’t know, either,” Nero answered truthfully. “Weiss and me are half brothers, by our mother. We can talk to you in our heads because the darkness thinks we’re connected to you by blood. Rosso, too, but not as much as you. That’s why I can’t use it to talk to her, without hurting her. But it hasn’t ever thought anyone else is connected. Only us four.”

“Hm. You wouldn’t, by any chance, happen to have a parent from Banora, would you?” Genesis put forth.

Weiss shrugged. “Maybe. Our mother was a scientist here, but we don’t know anything else about her. She could have been from there.”

“I don’t know anything about my parents,” Rosso said, in answer to Genesis’ questioning look. “I only know I was born in Deepground.”

“You were all born here, then. That makes sense for the three of you, but how do I fit into this little chain,” he mused, tapping his chin with a perfectly manicured finger. Then he shook his head, with a sigh. “Well, speculating isn’t solving anything. I shall have to do some digging around, on my own. I have a sneaking suspicion that behind this thread there will be a much bigger knot, to untangle.”

Weiss studied the young man surreptitiously, as he arched his back in a stretch, then carded his fingers absently through his auburn hair.

His red coat and leather waist armor hung on the hook by the door, and he’d removed his gloves, before working on Rosso’s fingernails. Now, in only his sleeveless SOLDIER uniform top and trousers, it was suddenly apparent how very hard and muscular his body really was.

His long, streamlined trench coat, with its black, scarab-wing epaulets, had a minimizing and slenderizing visual effect, on his tall frame. It was the opposite effect to Sephiroth’s huge, white pauldrons and exposed chest, which made his lean and agile frame appear bulkier and more imposing than it was. Sephiroth was almost half a foot taller than Genesis, and somewhat broader in the chest, but the two were actually fairly comparable, in terms of muscle mass.

If Genesis and Sephiroth were built like swordsmen, however, Weiss was built like a heavyweight boxer. He needed no creative costuming whatsoever, to make his body appear more tank-like. The researchers liked to say that all the boy had to do to gain muscle mass was eat and breathe, which was fairly close to the truth.

“So, you want to fight Sephiroth,” Genesis said, sensing that he was being sized up. “How very amusing that will be. If he doesn’t just kill you, I mean.”

Wiess gave a snort. “Unlikely.”

An auburn eyebrow arched. “So confident. But take care it isn’t baseless arrogance. Remember, we trained together. I have sparred with him, on many occasions. Not to compliment him unduly, but I will tell you now, he is the strongest opponent I’ve ever faced. There is no way to describe him but…monstrous.”

“He is a monster because he is impure,” Weiss said, unconcernedly. “I am not. The corrupted can never triumph over the immaculate.”

Genesis squinted doubtfully. “Purity is a rather esoteric principle. I do hope that’s not all you’re basing your self-assurance on.”

“One way or another, I intend to defeat him. Is that a problem?”

“Please,” Genesis scoffed. “I would like nothing more than to see Sephiroth taken down a peg or two. His ascendancy has gone on quite long enough. But, you’ll have to forgive me for doubting your ability to do that. You may be naturally gifted, but he has years of experience in real, life and death combat.”

Weiss only smiled. “You doubt me because you’ve never fought me.”

“True enough. I suppose all will be revealed when I test you, tomorrow.”

“My brother is the strongest, you’ll see,” Nero put in, proudly, which made Genesis smile and ruffle his black hair.

Rosso said nothing, but quietly hoped Weiss was not making a serious miscalculation. She still wished he wouldn’t do this mad thing, but he was the leader and he’d made his decision. She had no choice but to trust him, and hope for the best.

All that afternoon, no one came to see about the damaged surveillance equipment, and when the handlers delivered evening meals, they didn’t mention anything about it. Genesis imagined that Hojo was probably fuming, but he seemed to have an understanding with Weiss, and there was no way he was going to risk a full-scale disaster, at this point, by interfering with a bunch of teenaged weapons of mass-destruction, at their slumber party.

Much later that evening, Rosso had gone back to her own quarters, leaving the other three to themselves. Genesis was seated on the bed, reading aloud to Nero, whose ink-black head was nestled in his lap, and to Weiss, who was snuggled up to him on the other side, with his snow-white head resting on his shoulder, gazing curiously at the first ink and paper book he’d ever seen in person.

“There is no hate, only joy. For you are beloved by the goddess. Hero of the dawn, healer of worlds. Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul. Pride is lost. Wings stripped away, the end is nigh.”

“This isn’t a very nice story,” Nero grumbled, from his lap, rolling his shoulders with their bare brackets, since his metal wings were hanging on a rack on the wall.

“Not every part of a story can be nice, little one,” Genesis explained. “They’re a bit like life. If there’s nothing sad or bitter in them, how can we fully appreciate the sweet parts?”

“Hmph,” was all Nero said in response.

Genesis chuckled and petted his head, then returned to reading.

Despite Nero’s initial grouchy declaration, both boys eternally endeared themselves to the famous SOLDIER, that evening, by listening attentively, through the entirety of the meandering and abstruse narrative, all the way to the end. Even Sephiroth had only done so once, in all their long acquaintance, and he’d fallen asleep halfway through.

“My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey; in my own salvation, and your eternal slumber. Legend shall speak of the sacrifice at world’s end. The wind sails over the water’s surface, quietly, but surely.”

As he wrapped up his reading, Genesis heard a sniffle and looked up from the book. He was astonished to find Weiss wiping away tears, from his silver-blue eyes.

Weiss saw that his unwonted display of emotion had been noticed and scowled sullenly. “The end is too sad. I don’t like it.”

“But it hasn’t ended, yet,” Genesis pointed out. “How do you know it’ll be sad?”

“What do you mean? There’s no more written, after that. The pages are blank.”

“That is one of the most intriguing things about this work. It was either left unfinished by the original author, or that part of the text hasn’t been discovered yet. Who can say what the ending will be?”

“It doesn’t matter if we don’t have it written out. I know it’ll be sad,” Weiss maintained. “The end will be about sacrifice. That’s the theme, the whole way through. Even if the world is saved, someone will have to die saving it.”

Genesis tilted his head. “And that makes you sad?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Weiss paused, struggling to clearly frame his ideas. “Because…only someone who deserves to live would give up their life for the world’s sake. Tragedy is inherent in the very act of heroism. It makes me sad that someone so strong and brave has to die, to save all the weak, undeserving people, who will never know, and never appreciate it.”

“Hm. You are very astute,” Genesis remarked. “It takes most people much longer to decipher the themes in this work. But, might it not be the case, that true heroism lies in self-sacrifice, for its own sake, without expectation of recognition or reward?”

“Maybe, but that only happens in fantasy. I would never sacrifice myself or my brother, for the world’s sake. Even if we didn’t deserve life, I’d take it for us, with my own hands, and destroy anyone and anything that stood in the way.”

Genesis smiled archly. “I think, little brother, that would make you a villain.”

“I’ll be the best villain, then,” Wiess declared staunchly. “Being a hero sounds stupid, anyway.”

By way of reply, Gensis laughed aloud and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.

It was the first time anyone but Nero had dared to so boldly assail his person. Weiss was startled by the gesture, but found that he didn’t exactly dislike it. No, in fact, he rather liked it.

He nuzzled his head back into the crook of Genesis’ neck, to conceal the color that had risen in his cheeks, and mentally added him to the list of people who were allowed to touch him in a familiar way. It was now up to a grand total of two.

Nero, meanwhile, not wanting to be left out, sat up and presented his face for a kiss, too, which was duly granted. Neither of the boys had any way of knowing that this was the most affectionate Genesis Rhapsodos had ever been, with anyone. Including his own parents.

That night, the three newfound brothers talked and debated and laughed, well into the small hours, and eventually fell asleep together, in the narrow bed. Three heads lined up on the pillows, white, black, and red, with little Nero in the middle, safely enclosed in the arms of Weiss and Genesis.

Some time in the early morning, Sephiroth appeared silently, to check in on Nero. There he still stood, as the indigo sky lightened with the approaching dawn, gazing down at something, with a strange expression in his catlike eyes.

On the bed, his little half-brother was sleeping peacefully, in the arms of their father, who was also fast asleep. Two pale, beautiful faces, in repose, so like to his own and yet so unlike.

Sephiroth had never dared to touch his biological father. Never dared to reach out, to ask for anything, to make even the slightest nuisance of himself, for fear of shattering the uneasy peace, in which he was somehow allowed to remain here, with his infant sister.

But his brother, who had done nothing but kick and curse, and make his detestation of the whole household loudly known…he was embraced. Held. Soothed and comforted. Nero was treated like Vincent’s son, while Sephiroth was little more than a lonely specter, haunting this happy home.

They were wary of him, he knew, and viewed all his actions through a lens of suspicion, because of what he’d done. It would be useless to explain that he had been out of his mind, possessed by that creature, and deceived into committing atrocities. The atrocities remained committed. Innocent people were still dead. Exculpating his own guilt would help no one and repair nothing.

Ironic, that they should fear him, having no idea that the most dangerous man on the planet spent every moment paralyzed with fear, of being cast out from among the only family he’d ever had. Of being cut off from humanity, left to drift through existence, alone and untethered. To become a real ghost, and eventually to fade away.

His entire body and soul ached with longing to be embraced by his father as well, but that was foolishness. He needed no such coddling, he reminded himself. He was a grown man and Nero was a child. Younger than Cloud, by several years.

His cold, flickering body warmed and became more tangible, at the thought of his fiery-tempered and sharp-tongued darling. The only one who had held on, through the madness, and refused to let go of the man.

Cloud was all he needed. Cloud’s love was more than enough to keep him alive. He didn’t need his father’s love, as well. That would just be childish greediness. Tacit acceptance of his presence was all he could hope for. It was far more than he deserved.

Like a little alarm clock, always set to the same time, he sensed Ollie begin to stir, and knew that it was six-fifteen on the dot. With one more lingering glance at his sleeping father and brother, he vanished into purple-black vapor, to retrieve the warmed bottle from the kitchen, and begin his daily tasks. Quietly attending to the things that would otherwise lie neglected, in a house full of men.

“Yeah, I seen ‘em, plenty of times. Usually they’re bein’ used to couple old tech to new tech, where there ain’t compatible connectors.”

It was a little past noon, and Vincent had come to find Cid, in his workshop, out back.

“Newer OS uses a emulator program to talk to the old tech and make it all synch up.” Cid ran a hand back through his hair, giving a shudder as he recalled the metal brackets in Nero’s back, surrounded by deep, ugly scars. “I guess hookin’ up a human body to a machine is pretty close to the same principle, but…god damn. You’d have to be a sick fuckin’ bastard to do that shit to a kid.”

“Can you do anything?” Vincent asked.

“Don’t know. Maybe. There any way to find his wings?”

Vincent shook his head. “They were obliterated with everything else. I wish I’d known this would be an issue. I’d have been more careful not to leave them behind.”

“Only other way would be to get into Deepground’s system and look for files or anything that might have info on the design.”

“We should contact Reeve, then. He downloaded Deepground’s entire database, wanting to study its AI program. If there is anything about the prosthesis, he’ll have it.”

“Oh great, he’s studyin’ the fuckin’ AI. Just what the world needs more of,” Cid grumbled, as he lit a cigarette.

Vincent tilted his head to one side. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…I don’t get how ya can be so calm about this, Vince,” Cid answered, blowing out a plume of blue-white smoke. “That’s your kid in there, out of his mind and in constant pain, ‘cause of some monstrous shit Shinra did to his body, without—” He broke off and looked away, clearing his throat. “Sorry. Sometimes I…I let myself forget they did that same shit to you. If I didn’t, I’d be angry all the goddamn time.”

“You are angry all the time,” Vincent said affectionately.

“But like, even more angry all the time.”

“Thank you for worrying about Nero. I know he hasn’t been easy to deal with.”

“He’s your son, baby. You’re my husband, so that makes him my family, too. That’s the deal. That’s what marriage is.”

Vincent only answered with a stiff nod, but Cid was well aware that in Vincent-language, that meant he was suppressing some strong emotion, that he was unable or unwilling to express, at that moment. That worked out fine for Cid, because it usually meant he’d express it later, in private, which was bound to be a lot more fun.

Unable to help himself, he hooked an arm around his husband’s narrow waist and pulled him closer. Vincent’s long hair hung loose and free, half over his face, and he had his red headband on, like usual, but he’d started wearing more ‘normal’ clothing at home, which today took the form of a red v-neck, haphazardly embellished with a number of inexplicable and completely unnecessary zippers, and with a long, frayed and torn hem (all of which made it look suspiciously like his cloak).

His clothing items almost always featured similar signs of damage, despite the fact that he’d created them himself, in the moment, and it was literally impossible for them to have collected wear and tear. Same with his faded, black jeans, which were slashed all over like they’d been in a knife fight. He looked a hell of a lot like one of those guys on the rock’n’roll posters, in the 80s, come to think of it.

“Hey babe, y’ever listen to Guns N’ Roses?”

“No. I assume it’s a musical group?” Vincent ventured. “Rock’n’roll, from the sound of it?”

Cid snorted with laughter. “Fuck…you’re such an old man. They’re only one of the most famous bands of all time. Hottest shit goin’ in the 80s and 90s.”

“I spent the 80s and 90s sleeping in a coffin, under Shinra Manor.”

“Ain’t no excuse for cultural illiteracy, Vinnie. Specially since ya look just like one of them rock’n’roll dudes.”

“No, they look like me,” Vincent scowled. “I’ve looked like this for thirty years.”

“Mm, true. Who knows, maybe Axl Rose wandered into the basement and saw ya sleepin’, and it inspired the fashion of a whole generation.”

“Hmph. Axl Rose is an absurd stage name.”

“That’s his real name, sugar dumplin’.” Cid searched up a picture of the band on his phone and held it up for Vincent to look at.

“Oh. That does look rather like me,” Vincent admitted. “Does he also wear his headband to conceal a scar?”

“Maybe. I never seen him without one.”

“Cid…why did you say the person who attached Nero’s wings would have to be a sick bastard? I understand it’s gruesome, but we’ve seen many such things. You seem especially upset by it.”

Cid hesitated. “It’s cause…in order for the nerves to be spliced in right, they’d have to do it without anesthetic, and keep him awake, the whole time.”

Vincent’s black brows drew together. “Oh. I see.”

“I’ve seen a lotta shit, but never anything that fucked up. Fact the kid lived through it is…I can’t decide if it was a miracle or a cruel joke.”

“It was Chaos. His regenerative factor comes from the darkness. I wouldn’t call it regeneration, so much as indestructibility. More like my body, than a SOLDIER’s. But he does feel pain, normally. If he is like me, he does.”

The mood was growing heavy, so Cid changed tracks, to lighten things up. “Since we’re on the topic, you think you got a lot more kids lurkin’ around, out there?”

“There’s no way to tell,” Vincent said, shaking his head. “My DNA was taken and used without my knowledge. But, knowing Hojo, I somehow doubt Sephiroth and Nero were the only ones. He liked to have backups. The question is, whether any others survived.”

“If so, we’re gonna need more space. And, even if Seph and Nero are the only ones, Ollie’s gonna grow outta that nursery pretty quick. So, I was thinkin’…maybe it’s time we started fixin’ up the old Valentine property.”

“You hate that place,” Vincent objected. “You called it a creepy Dracula castle and said even ghosts would be afraid to haunt it.”

“I stand by that. Didn’t see any ghosts, there, did ya? Point proved.”

“I don’t think that’s logically sound.”

“The point is, ain’t no sense in just lettin’ it sit there gettin’ dustier and creepier. ‘Sides, it’s your family’s home, ya know? Wouldn’t it be nice to have it all cleaned up? Just in case?”

Vincent very nearly smiled. “Of course. Just in case.”

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY

yeah i put the stray dog outfit in there WHAT OF IT

next. chapter

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ff7-has-taken-me-over · 4 months

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Randomly, I had a thought on how likely it would have been for different characters to have fallen for Cloud and why they would have fallen for him and now I’m here! Once more! So going in no particular order let us begin (this is just the main sort of batch of characters, let me know if you wanna see any of the side ones like the Turks or Rufus)

Also keep in mind this is just me, my opinions and my blog. Don’t like, don’t read, don’t bring your ship hating or ship wars in here or I’ll punch you. Please and thank you!

Zack: I am being mildly biased with my own shipping head canons when I say that he would’ve fallen head over heels upon first meeting, but also it is canon that he was a chronic flirt and had multiple ‘girlfriends’. So I say it’s not entirely out of the question.

Sephiroth: before he lost his mind there wasn’t a chance in fucking hell it would’ve happened I think. Besides the whole difference in rank thing Seph was already far too traumatised and probably would have just seen Cloud as another guy that saw him as nothing but a war hero. He might have entertained the thought of sleeping with him, maybe, but I really don’t think it would’ve happened. We all know how he is after he loses his mind so I don’t think I gotta delve into that.

Angeal: probably not. He definitely would’ve taken some sort of liking to Cloud, whether as a friend he could find good conversation with or a sort of protege like Zack, I dunno. But ultimately I don’t reckon they’d have too much of a connection, not without some form of poly going on or something. Which leads me to this next one.

Genesis: I for sure reckon he would’ve fallen for Cloud. It would’ve been fucking messy and drama filled and more than likely would have stemmed from an enemies to lovers cause they’re both so incredibly stubborn and head strong, but they would end up loving each other. They’d definitely still butt heads and get into useless arguments but there were far too many pros to even think of giving up on the other.

Aerith: without the whole Cloud resembling Zack thing, maybe. There’s a chance that she could have but it would have been slow. Would’ve been one of those things where they hung out and talked and did all this stuff together so often that one day she would’ve turned around and realised she was in love with him. Like a full on ‘oh’ moment.

Tifa: this is another thing that’s mildly biased based off my own head canons but I honestly don’t think Tifa would have fallen for Cloud. If not for the Nibelheim incident and Cloud being exactly what she always wished for as a kid I do not think it would’ve happened.

Barret: definitely fucking not 😂 besides the fact that he hated Cloud when they first met, Cloud is so far beyond his type it’s not even funny. Plus I feel like Barret would either be one of those guys who’s like ‘my wife was the only woman for me’ or he just wouldn’t wanna put Marlene through the stress of suddenly gaining another parent.

Biggs: maybe. Like a heavy ass possibly honestly. I feel like it would have been the most generic romance in history and it would’ve been so unbelievably normal and it most likely would have been short lived, but maybe.

Wedge: I’m not gonna lie. Wedge gives me aromantic vibes for some reason. I dunno why, he just does. He’d definitely befriend Cloud (eventually) and be willing to wingman him or something if he needed it but yeah, I don’t think Wedge would’ve fallen for him.

Jessie: she absolutely loves flirting with Cloud and teasing him and being all over him, but she is definitely a lesbian. Don’t even argue with me! That woman is a full fledged lesbian and she only flirts with guys so heavily cause it’s funny to watch them scramble.

Vincent: nah, not really. Would they have a friends with benefits thing? Probably. But I feel like Vincent is far too emotionally unavailable and traumatised to even entertain the idea of being with someone again.

Cid: I feel like this is similar to Angeal. He’d definitely like Cloud and they’d bond over mechanic shit and complain about the people they chose to surround themselves with, but he definitely wouldn’t fall for him either. Cloud is way too young for him and not nearly his type in a guy. Plus he has a wife.

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hopeinthebox · 4 months

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tagged by my beloved no.1 chappell roan stan @cordiallyfuturedwight thanks my darling <33 i can only apologise for the lack of ms roan here... i swear good luck babe has been on repeat i don't know what happened

tagging the usual suspects, apologies if i've already missed yours: @aprylynn @jiminsproof @thvinyl @cosmicdreamgrl @visionsofgideontheninth @hoseeok @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @monismochi <333 and you dear reader

oh and see here for more of my self-proclaimed songs of the summer if you're interested in that kind of thing

#director's commentary--#comin' around again - they call her amber MARK because she never misses. this one is particularly delicious #the thrill is gone - it's stunning. listening to raye again to prepare myself for genesis #bring back the seven minute songs i say!!#i'm fighting my own diminished attention span tooth and nail but i'm losing badly because i keep getting distracted #helen of troy - we all moved on from solar power a little too quickly actually this summer we should throw our cellular devices in the wate #whatcha doing - yeah i have this song on repeat to fund dua's next vacation and it's an honour to contribute.#ALSO did everyone see the chris stapleton x dua acm performance? exquisite. they served AND they ate #bodyguard - still my fav. ryan beatty i could find you anywhere #skip to the good bit - rizzle kicks are making a comeback and my god it has been twelve LONG years without them.#nature is healing. i can hear the trumpets #ok love you bye - anyone who decides to use the line 'if you can't see my mirrors - i can't see you' is an instant icon #it's uncanny - hall & oates deep cut. it's obviously fab #so sick of dreaming - maggie rogers i will follow you to the ends of the earth. album is phenomenal. what a loser!!!#aw shoot - cuntry and music global pop sensation cmat has done it yet again. happy pride my queen #honourable mentions - rachel chinouriri's new album is really great. listen to 'it is what it is'#obviously rm made it to the artist list. who else up thinking about nuts and groin rn!!!!!#vampire weekend's new album is like something from a peanuts comic and st. vincent's new album is indescribable #but if i had to try i'd say like something from a peanuts comic but if woodstock had an insatiable bloodthirst #okay i think that just about covers it! thanks darlings #MWAH #receiptify #tag

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final-fantasy-imagines · 2 years

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Quick reminder that my 1k followers event has started. :) More information in this post.

#vani's flower shop #final fantasy x reader #cloud strife x reader #zack fair x reader #genesis rhapsodos x reader #sephiroth x reader #angeal hewley x reader #rufus shinra x reader #vincent valentine x reader #tseng x reader #aerith gainsborough x reader #tifa lockhart x reader

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stupidgenius · 1 year

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Sephiroth cannot help the puff of air that escapes as he tries to swallow a chuckle. Genesis still catches him, arms crossing over his chest and hip cocked.

“What’s so funny?”

“I cannot imagine you mentoring anyone.” He admits.

“Oh, dearest,” Genesis smiles again, deceptively sweet. “I wasn’t talking about myself.”

---

Sephiroth has never, not once in his time at SOLDIER, ever wanted to become a mentor. He doesn't think that will ever change, until, somehow, it does.

#ffvii #ffvii cloud #ff7 cloud #ff7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #angeal hewley #cloud strife #zack fair #angeal x genesis x sephiroth #what is their ship name???? do they even have one?????#vincent valentine #ffvii sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝙁𝙄𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝙁𝘼𝙉𝙏𝘼𝙎𝙔 𝙑𝙄𝙄

CLOUD STRIFE,,

to be continued

ZACK FAIR,,

to be continued

RENO,,

to be continued

GENESIS RHAPSODOS,,

to be continued

ANGEAL HEWLEY,,

to be continued

SEPHIROTH CRESCENT,,

to be continued

VINCENT VALENTINE,,

to be continued

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vycarys · 3 months

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𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

a sideblog dedicated to supporting and uplifting fellow authors/artists/creators out there 🫶🏼

…..and a space for me to yap freely

kindly follow me from my main blog (xvysarene) if you would like to interact!

📚 ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢs: 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook

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ariseur · 4 months

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sephiroth w/ a little sister!reader !? I don't see many headcanons / fic / anything of Sephiroth with this type of scenario although I consider it something cute & fun x'D, specifically Seph discovering that his little and beloved (?) sister has several guys with a love interest behind her. How would Seph be in the situation, would he be a protective older brother, would he be the type that scares them away with just a deadly look? My, many possibilities! (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

sephiroth’s little sister hcs 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader (platonic!!)

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

THIS REQUEST WAS SOO CUTE I NEVER SEE LITTLE SISTER HCS LIKE THIS EITHERR. thank you for the request anon, hope i did it justice !! 💗

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

intended lowercase, mentions of pre and post nibelheim, mentions of hojo (he’s a warning within itself), possessiveness but like not in a weird way.. seph’s just crazy, lmk if i missed anything!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ soooo.. starting off!!

❥ i think that sephiroth with a little sister would definitely be interesting; the war hero now being seen with an ultimately younger girl, it’d be amusing seeing such a difference between the two especially if you’re shorter.

❥ i’m not sure how being sephiroth’s sister would necessarily work considering he was an “experiment” of jenova, and from my knowledge after lucrecia gave birth to him she was crystallized in the crystal caves? but if we’re ignoring that and maybe that didn’t happen or something like that idk, i think it’d be pretty hectic, especially if you were also an experiment of jenova’s cells.

❥ both pre and post sephiroth would love you dearly. pre sephiroth would make it a mission to visit you as much as possible and would try to fit some time in his schedule to go and hang out with you. usually, he’d go take walks with you or if you like food then he’d be insistent on making a trip of trying a bunch of new places.

❥ he is honestly your biggest defender— although i don’t expect a lot of people to disrespect you while a close-to-six-foot first class SOLDIER is looming right behind you. i dont know if he’d let you out of his sight all that often when you’re around him, his instincts just kinda kick in so he’s following you around like a dog.

❥ if you were known by genesis and angeal crisis-core era, and genesis hits on you or even tries to flirt??? ooh sephiroth is right behind you in an instant. he is NOT letting genesis get with you at all, i’m sorry in advance to the self insert x genesis readers that had this idea in mind but i def don’t think that seph would be okay with you dating his friends. even angeal, whom he trusts very dearly and knows that he wouldn’t try anything with you, would have sephiroth feeling iffy.

❥ if you had “suitors” or if you were popular with the boys ( and maybe the ladies too if you’re just THAT suave ), ooh sephiroth would have a heart attack. he’d want you to choose who you want, of course, but be prepared for sephiroth lurking around every corner like a cat. if you bring your partner to meet him? he’s gonna look like the scariest mf regardless if he’s trying to be or not.

❥ he especially doesn’t want you to do anything with his job. if you have jenova cells or if extraordinary strength then he might feel a little better if you were to be involved with the SOLDIER program or shinra, but if you’re a civilian then he’d rather not get you involved with his duties. there’s too much on the line and he can’t risk you getting hurt, also another reason why he prefers to keep you on the down low or for him to only visit you.

❥ also another thought, but i just keep imagining zack flirting with you or meeting you and thinking you’re absolutely GORGEOUS ( because if you’re related to sephiroth.. you gotta be pretty let’s be honest that mans so beautiful ) ( we don’t talk about hojo though, there’s no way he’s related to seph. vincent gotta be the daddy ), but then once he sees that sephiroth is your brother he literally goes WHITE. starts trying to subtly be more friendly and lowkey apologize for his behavior.. spoiler alert; zack is not subtle.

❥ now whatever you do.. don’t imagine sephiroth meeting you the day before heading out to nibelheim. whatever you don’t, think imagine you guys walking at night as he talks about how worried he is for his friends, and how he thinks zack is going to do. and whatever you do, don’t imagine reminiscing after the village burns down, your mind trailing back to the last hug he gave you before he found out what he really was.

❥ if you were to still stay with post nibelheim sephiroth, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. he can’t lose you at all, not now— not now that he knows you’re the only thing he has left. he’ll go through the motions of being very cold to you sometimes and then being very overprotective

❥ he’d come home one day from only the lord knows where, and wake you up in the middle of the night. and when you finally awake, he wouldn’t let you go. i imagine he’d feel conflicted. sephiroth was dehumanized from birth and ostracized from a normal life as he never met his true mother lucrecia and hojo had no interest in claiming him other than for his own benefit as a scientist. if you were dealt with such things as well, or maybe you were separated because sephiroth was the superior experiment, it wouldn’t matter; sephiroth contained these feelings that he didn’t know how to feel or express himself about.

❥ he wouldn’t understand why he felt this way, especially having no sort of concept of family brought to him within the early years of his life, but all he knows is that he has you

❥ he only has you— and he’s not willing to risk losing you anytime soon.

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altocat · 14 days

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I love all types of ship in ff7 and it annoys me when people hate other people for liking a certain ship. Like clouti lovers hating claerith Or vise versa. Either that just TikTok and they're shit.

I just want cute wholesome hcs like Sephiroth saying he's not in a threesome with Genesis and Angeal, when he most certainly is, just not sexually.

Or when I tell people that Barrett x Vincent would actually be really wholesome 😞

People don't love rarepares these days. They don't like poly too 😔

Someone needs to give me KunselxZackxAerithxTifa, I need a life. I'm out.

The fact of the matter is that the constant fighting over ships is ridiculous, especially when the games themselves are tasking the audience with forming their own personal tastes and preferences. Clerith and Cloti are both optional. And if you think that it's better as a polyship or each of them with someone else then GREAT! That's perfect! There's no shame at all in that.

People should just like what they want to like and respect people with different opinions. If everyone had the exact same taste, it would be boring. There needs to be variety. What I don't care for is just how aggressive and childish a lot of the shipping wars can be. It's a stupid reason to hate on people. We shouldn't have enemies among ourselves--we're all here to appreciate the same thing. And every pairing has its own special layer or flair that makes the person shipping them unique. That's kind of beautiful in a weird way. You're not just engaging with a fictional pairing, you're engaging with the components that speak to an individual's preferences, a human experience. We shouldn't be hating and fighting each other because of that. We should engage. Understand. Compare with respect and reverence.

This story is nearly thirty years old. It's time for the war to stop. It's time we came together. We'll NEED that going into the fourth decade if we're ever to keep the foundation sturdy.

All pairings are valid pairings.

All shippers are valid shippers.

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getvalentined · 2 years

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"Reeve wants you in his office for debriefing as soon as you're dressed, so good luck with that."

Wanted to draw the kintsugi-esque scar I always give Genesis postcanon, and Vincent insisted upon being involved.

#genesis rhapsodos #vincent valentine #final fantasy 7 #FF7 #final fantasy 7 remake #FF7R #ccff7r #crisis core reunion #art tag #vincent x genesis #vinesis #final fantasy vii #FFVII

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sephirthoughts · 29 days

Text

Vincent's New Kid Just Dropped CH 14: Deepground Flashback, a big fight happens, Rosso collects a baby duck, special cameo appearance by everyone's favorite good, good boy.

RATING: mature for a non-explicit sex scene

WARNINGS: hojo, canon-typical violence, scarlet being a creep to sixteen-year-old Weiss

everyone's best friend Zack

“What did I tell you,” Hojo said smugly, to Lazard, who was looking understandably ill-at-ease.

“I don’t listen to half of the deranged shit you say,” Lazard answered irritably. He pressed the intercom button, that linked them to the training arena, where Weiss was pulling Genesis to his feet, after having thrashed him soundly, for the third time in a row. “Genesis. Report.”

Genesis tossed the camera a jaunty salute. “As you’ve certainly deduced, by now, I deem this candidate fit to participate in a sparring contest, with my fellow SOLDIER First Class, Sephiroth.”

“But how are you? Are you injured?”

“You know what they say,” Genesis replied, with a rueful laugh. “Nothing bruised but my pride and internal organs.”

“Alright, then,” Lazard sighed. “It looks like you’ll have your fight, Hojo. I’ll give the green light to the Marketing Department, and set things rolling.”

“Stay close, when you fight him,” Genesis advised Weiss, back in the boys’ quarters. “He’s a skilled spellcaster, and you are best at close range, so don’t let him use his long-range advantage. He’s the most dangerous at mid-range, because of that huge sword, though, so hem him in tightly, if you can. Don’t give him room to use it effectively. Most importantly…keep your eyes open, little brother. I have an uneasy feeling about all of this.”

“I will,” Weiss nodded dutifully.

“Good,” Genesis smiled, laying an affectionate hand on his cheek. “I’ll be cheering for you.”

“Will you be there, to see the fight?” Nero asked, tugging Genesis’ other hand.

“I’m afraid not. I ship back out to the frontlines tomorrow. But I’ll be watching the live satellite feed. Unless there’s enemy activity, then I’ll have to watch the recording, later.”

“When will you come see us, again, big-brother?”

“I won’t make any promises as to when, because I can’t say what things will be like at the front, but it will be the soonest that I can. I’m going to look into our blood connection, too. Hopefully I’ll have some answers, by then.”

Nero’s crimson eyes were large and round, in his pale face, and he was still clinging to Genesis’ hand with both of his. Moved by his childlike earnestness, Genesis took the smaller boy in his arms and pressed kisses to his silky, black hair.

“Worry not, little one. Though the morrow be barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return.”

Within an hour of the famous SOLDIER’s departure, personnel were sent to restore and repair all of the destroyed surveillance equipment in Weiss and Nero’s room. This mattered very little to the two boys, who were indifferent to being observed, and communicated silently, anyway.

After all that, months passed, before anything progressed regarding the planned duel with Sephiroth. During that time, rumors began to reach Deepground that something big had happened, in SOLDIER. People were even saying that some top-level people had betrayed Shinra and defected. Nero couldn’t reach Genesis through the darkness link at a distance, like he could with Weiss, so they wouldn’t be able to ask him about it, till he visited again.

Meanwhile, they continued training and living pretty much as normal. Hojo went away to do whatever he did. The girls he’d brought for Weiss were still there, but one had broken away from the main pack and begun hanging around wherever Rosso was. Rosso responded much like Weiss had, when she started following him around, which was to ignore the girl and go about her business, but make no objection to her presence.

As per their usual, Weiss and Nero didn’t care even a little bit, and so the new girl gradually became part of the Deepground group. She was always muttering to herself and making notes and sketches in her little notebook, but otherwise, she was generally inoffensive.

At long last, Hojo called to say that the fight with Sephiroth had been scheduled, and was to take place a week hence. There was to be a huge live audience, including the entire Shinra board of directors. He assured Weiss that Sephiroth was aware of their purpose, and wouldn’t embarrass him.

Later that evening, Nero lay splayed out in the tumble of white sheets, black marks writhing and dancing all over his slender body, while Weiss’ hot tongue coaxed and teased him open, sometimes gentle and patient, sometimes urgent and demanding, but always an act of abject worship, a zealot before his god, demonstrating his fanatic devotion on his hands and knees.

Nero bit deep into his brother’s neck, coiling his legs tightly around his waist, as he pushed himself inside. Their souls connected as their bodies moved together, slick with sweat, giving and receiving, fucking and being fucked, joined at the white-hot nexus of pleasure, merging deeper and deeper into one another.

The primary goal of their sexual unions was not orgasm, though they enjoyed that part, too, but rather the relief of the ache of emptiness, that would grow and grow, the longer they weren’t fully merged, until it became a howling void of agony and need.

Their psychic connection provided some relief, and slowed the process, but eventually, they would have to be united again, or the pain would become maddening and unbearable, and much like the pain of a phantom limb, without any remedy, other than the re-attaching of the missing part. Fortunately, they were also a couple of hormonal teenagers, and so the necessity of merging their being accorded well with their biological drive to be constantly fucking.

“I’m sorry they won’t let you go with me,” Wiess sighed, when Nero lay in his arms, after their amorous activities.

“We’ll be watching, here,” Nero said, nestling more securely into his brother’s broad chest. “If you need me, just use the darkness. I look forward to witnessing your victory.”

“Genesis doesn’t think I’ll win.”

“You only used half your strength to fight him. Of course he doesn’t.”

Weiss laughed and pressed a kiss to Nero’s forehead. “I couldn’t tip my hand to Lazard and Hojo. Besides, don’t you think he’ll be surprised, when he sees me kill Shinra’s big hero, on live television?”

“We don’t even know where he is. He might not be somewhere that he can watch it, live. If he doesn’t, he’ll certainly get word of what happened, before he sees it, and it’ll ruin your surprise.”

“I think he’ll still be surprised.”

On the morning of the fight, they transported Wiess like a max-security prisoner, in a fully closed capsule reminiscent of a coffin. Thus, when he stepped out into the massive stadium, from the locker-room staging area, it was the first time he had ever laid eyes upon the sky.

What he could see of it, through the halfway open stadium roof, he found to be rather disappointing, overall. Just a dull, grey dome, not too unlike the ceiling in Deepground, only a lot bigger and higher up.

Back in Deepground, everyone was gathered around different video screens, all watching the live broadcast. Nero was with Rosso, who was visibly anxious, and the other girl, who was doodling in her notebook. After a lot of unnecessary music and chatter from the presenters, the feed finally cut to Weiss, entering the stadium.

“He’s so beautiful,” Nero murmured, with an adoring sigh.

He did cut a rather imposing figure, both from afar, and on the huge screens, with his handsome face, wild, white hair, and tall, broad frame. The long, white jacket they’d given him billowed and blew in the wind, while he strode confidently out to his position, in the football-field sized ring.

He wore no armor, so the sum total of his equipment, aside from the jacket, amounted to his usual white dojo pants, black boots, modeled after a samurai’s kegutsu, with a flexible, rubber shaft, and metal knee guard, and a pair of agile katanas.

When he threw off the jacket to strap the katanas to his bare back, exposing his heavily muscled torso, there was scattered whistling and catcalling, amongst the gigantic crowd. He was a total unknown, however, here to challenge the greatest and most beloved hero in the world, so most of the positive reaction was drowned out by the voluble booing.

“Why are they booing him?” Rosso demanded, indignantly. “He should slaughter all of them, for their impudence.”

A moment later, the crowd went absolutely roaring mad, further offending her, as Sephiroth dropped into the arena, from some concealed platform high above. He landed lightly on his feet, black coat and silver hair flowing majestically about him. His nearly seven-foot height made Weiss look less impressive, by comparison, especially bulked up as Sephiroth’s silhouette was, by those huge pauldrons.

“He is very big,” Rosso remarked, apprehensively. “Bigger even than Commander Weiss.”

“His size won’t matter,” Nero assured her. “Weiss is stronger. He’ll win.”

The presenters were making some effusive, overblown introduction of the great war hero, and gushing about his merits and achievements, but Weiss heard none of it. He was a hunting lion, that had sighted prey, and he neither heard nor saw anything but his opponent, from that moment on.

They stepped forward and clasped hands, after the manner of warriors, then returned to their positions. There was a long and breathless moment, during which the crowd fell nearly silent, then the starting bell sounded and both men simply vanished.

That is to say, they both moved faster than the human eye could perceive, and clashed like a burst of fireworks, sparks flying as swords collided, the ringing clangs as rapid and staccato as machinegun fire, their movements an incomprehensible blur, till they leapt apart. Gazes locked, they circled one another, like a pair of wolves.

Weiss saw Sephiroth’s catlike pupil slits, rapidly dilating and contracting, as he reassessed his opponent, and laughed. “Hojo told you to go easy on me, right? Well, consider this a gentleman’s warning. You had better use your full strength to fight me. Because I am here to kill you.”

By way of reply, Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, and dropped into his fighting stance.

Blades sang as they clashed again, and this time, Weiss locked Masamune in a blocking hold, with his dual blades. His silver-blue eyes were alight with the joy of battle, and literally illuminated by the bright-gold rings that were beginning to glow faintly, around his pupils.

“What are you?” Sephiroth demanded, as they grappled.

Weiss bared his teeth, in a savage grin. “I’m you, but better.”

Sephiroth gave a roar and threw him off, and they were back in the fray, flying around the arena, trading rapid bursts of blows, in blurred flashes of white and silver light, that could only be properly deciphered when they were instant-replayed in slow motion on the big screens, for the benefit of the spectators, and those watching at home.

Sephiroth’s usual expression of casual indifference had given way to a look of grim concentration, which was proof enough of how he was faring in this fight. Weiss, on the other hand, seemed to be growing more energetic and elated, his laughter rolling like thunder in the vast arena, as the two performed their bloodthirsty dance.

Sephiroth did manage to put distance between them, a few times, and threw fire and thunder spells at Weiss, which slowed him down, as he had to block or evade them, but he always managed to close the distance again, too quickly for it to become a real issue.

“Range, he needs range. That is the sword’s major weakness,” Rosso’s little acolyte muttered to herself, as she hurriedly scribbled something in her notebook. Rosso and Nero ignored her.

The tension and excitement in the crowd was nearing its peak, as it became increasingly clear how closely matched the two opponents actually were. They collided once again, in an explosion of blows. The shriek of metal on metal rang out, where the blades met, sliding along each other, throwing off a shower of sparks, then a sudden spray of crimson, as both leapt back, landing on their feet many meters apart.

When the cameras caught up, and their images reappeared on the big screens, the crowd gave a collective cry of dismay. Blood ran along the edge of a gleaming blade, held aloft for all to see. The blade in Weiss’ hand.

To the horrified disbelief of the spectators, a corresponding bloody slash had appeared across Sephiroth’s chest, from which the crossed leather straps had been severed and now hung loose. Sephiroth! The greatest hero in the world! How could he be wounded? How strong must this other man be, to have wounded him? Many of them began to look at this interloper with new eyes.

“So you can bleed,” Weiss said, with a deranged smile.

In full view of the cameras, while his image was still up on the big screens, he drew his sword along his tongue, licking Sephiroth’s blood off the flat of the blade. The crowd rumbled disapprovingly and some of them booed about it, but Weiss had no interest in their opinions. He was here for one reason, and one reason, alone.

“What’s the meaning of this, Hojo?” Heidegger demanded, from his seat behind President Shinra, in the executive box. “Have you set your boy up to be beaten?”

“I’m all for you embarrassing yourself in public,” Scarlet chimed in, “but it’s Shinra that loses face, if Sephiroth looks like a fool.”

“Is Sephiroth really hurt? Is he in danger?” asked Reeve, the only one who looked genuinely concerned for the young warrior.

“I’ve got a big bet riding on that boy, Hojo,” Palmer cut in angrily. “You’d better tell me if I’m about to take a bath!”

“I wonder, I wonder,” Hojo said, cackling gleefully to himself.

It is important to note, however, that President Shinra neither joined the others in questioning the Director of his Science and Research Division, nor did he appear particularly perturbed by Sephiroth’s struggling in the fight.

Back in Deepground, Rosso was over the moon, and even Nero had a bloodthirsty smile on his face. It seemed that his brother’s victory and Sephiroth’s death were imminent.

Out in the ring, Sephiroth ignored the crowd, the taunt from Weiss, and the wound on his chest, and readied Masamune again. Weiss knew that the time had come to press his advantage. If he hesitated now, he may never have another chance to kill Sephiroth.

They locked blades again, and this time he forced Sephiroth backward, until he dug his heels in, and pushed back. Weiss pressed on, gritting his teeth, pushing Masamune closer and closer to Sephiroth’s face.

Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation of heat, at the base of his skull. At the same time, his arms went weak, like the blood had been drained out of them. His stance sagged, as he found himself having to exert many times the effort, to hold off Sephiroth’s blade.

“What…what did you do to me! What’s happening to my body!” Weiss snarled, through his clenched teeth, his muscles shaking with the strain of resisting the now-advancing Sephiroth.

Their blades ground together, faces so close they could have kissed. There was a look of eerie calm in Sephiroth’s brilliant green eyes, and a slight smile tugged up the corners of his lips.

He spoke for his opponent’s ears only, far too softly for even the most sensitive microphones to pick up. “You may possess more brute strength, but all means of achieving victory are valid. Including deception and betrayal.”

Weiss lost the struggle and stumbled back, his legs heavy and clumsy, as if he was wading in wet concrete. With that, the fight became a rout, Sephiroth tossing Weiss around the arena, toying with him, as he strove desperately to fend off the relentless storm of attacks, with his suddenly lax and unresponsive body.

He felt a surge of support come from the darkness, across the void. It comforted him, but had no effect on whatever was happening to his body. Weiss was still Weiss, however, and his mental fortitude hadn’t deserted him, with his physical strength. No matter what the odds, or how certain his death, so long as he had breath in his body, he would never give up. He would keep fighting, to the bitter end, despite knowing the contest was lost.

At long last, battered, bruised, and bleeding from the nose and mouth, as well as sword wounds all over his body, he collapsed, unable to even lift his arms, let alone get back to his feet. His swords, one broken off halfway down the blade, and one chipped and blunted, clattered to the ground, beside him.

The bell sounded, the match was called for Sephiroth, and the crowd went wild, whooping and cheering for their beloved hero, while many among them booed and taunted the arrogant upstart, who had dared think himself a worthy challenger to the great and mighty Sephiroth.

Sephiroth gave a low bow, in the direction of the Shinra executives’ box, then waved and smiled for the crowd, before he hauled Weiss to his feet, supporting him with Weiss’ arm hooked over his shoulders, as if they were friends. About a hundred camera drones swarmed them, clamoring for a statement.

“My opponent fought well and honorably,” said the beautiful, silver-haired hero, who wasn’t sweating or disheveled, after the prolonged, energetic fight. “I believe Weiss is the most skilled fighter I have ever faced. I’ve learned a lot, from our match today, and I look forward to testing my skill against him again. But let’s not trouble him to make a statement, at the moment. I think he’s a little fatigued.”

The crowd roared with laughter, as if that were the cleverest joke they’d ever heard, and then burst into applause, moved by their hero’s generosity and humility in victory.

Weiss couldn’t have spoken if his life depended on it. He was too stupefied to even be certain what was happening was real. His head lolled to the side, and his limbs had turned to stone. His eyes felt gritty, like they were full of sand, and his vision was blurred.

Sephiroth half-supported, half-carried him from the arena, through the heavily guarded doors, into what was essentially the backstage area. The moment the doors slid shut behind them, he let go of Weiss, who reeled to the side, staggered a few steps, then sat down hard on the floor, leaning heavily against the metal lockers.

“You fucking coward,” he sneered, struggling to focus his eyes on Sephiroth. “You have…you have no honor.”

“I am a soldier, not a dancing puppet!” Sephiroth exploded, shoving away the bottle of water someone was trying to hand him, and striding over to look down at Weiss, green cat-eyes ablaze with wrath. “I was called back from an active operation, to have this farce of a contest with you! That is enough of an insult to me, already! Was I also to lose the fight, and destroy the morale of all the hundreds of thousands of Shinra troops who look to me, for hope?”

“Fuck your false hope,” Weiss slurred out. “They all think you’re a god. They should know you’re just a f—a fucking cheater.”

“Warfare isn’t a game! Do you not understand that? On the battlefield, no one cares about honor! Honor doesn’t blunt blades or stop bullets! The only rule is do not let your opponent win, because if they win, you die! No one cares if you fought fairly, when you’re dead!”

“Sephiroth, stop!” a voice called out, as booted footsteps approached.

“Zack,” Sephiroth said, his demeanor instantly softening. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone, already.”

Another tall, blurry figure appeared, looming over Weiss. “Mission got delayed. Waiting on the Turks to get their shit together. Why don’t you come have lunch with me.”

“I’m not done, here,” Sephiroth said, turning back to Weiss.

“Come on, man,” Zack interposed. “You already beat the shit out of the kid, just leave it at that.”

“Not a fucking kid,” Weiss protested, all inebriated indignation. “I’m sixt…sixteen.”

Sephiroth looked startled, then disgusted. “Hmph. I should’ve known. You may look like a grown man, but only a child would’ve fallen for a double-cross so simple. Here’s a piece of advice, that may aid you in the future: never try to beat an old snake at his own game. You’ll only wind up humiliated, or dead.”

“You’re wasting your breath,” Zack said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Can’t you see he’s completely out of it? Come on, let’s hit the road, before the execs catch up.”

Weiss was hazily aware of the two towering figures departing. Then there was some kind of commotion, and all the other blurry background figures scattered, scurrying out of the immediate area as fast as they could. He could hear lot of footsteps approaching. Heavy boot-treads, from a large group of guards, lighter taps, from men’s formal shoes, and even some clacks from high-heels.

Two soldier-colored blobs darted ahead of the approaching group and grabbed Weiss by the arms, intending to haul him to his feet, which, as it turned out, was quite ill-advised. Even in his severely weakened and half-conscious state, he swatted them away like flies, sending them sprawling across the slick, tile floor.

“You call that under control?” a stocky, bearded blob thundered. “You said the President would be safe!”

“Oh, he’s perfectly safe,” Hojo’s weaselly voice replied, with a chuckle. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

A weird, all-black blob stepped out of the group blob, and Weiss felt that hot tingling on the back of his neck again. Immediately, his vision cleared and the heavy, drunken feeling dissipated. But as he leapt to his feet, the black-cloaked and helmeted figure barked, “Down, dog! Do not move or speak until you’re ordered to!”

To Weiss’ shock and revulsion, his body obeyed, dropping him to his knees, where he remained, red-eyed with rage, but unable to move or make a sound.

“Ooh, now, that is interesting,” Scarlet crooned, sauntering over to look down at him, with unconcealed lust. “What an amusing toy he is. Make him strip, I want to see the rest.”

“Scarlet, what the hell are you doing?” Reeve exclaimed. “He’s a person, not a toy!”

“Oh, please, Reeve, get off your high-horse,” she scoffed, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “He’s not a person, he’s a SOLDIER, which makes him a weapon. As Director of Advanced Weaponry, I want to inspect the product thoroughly, before I form a conclusive opinion.”

“Strip!” the black-cloaked figure barked at Weiss.

Weiss strained against the compulsion with all his will, but that barely slowed his fingers, which were already unbuckling his knee guards and pulling off his boots. His chest was heaving with ragged breaths, from the effort he was making to resist, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, as his body got to his feet, and his hands went to his waist, to untie his belt.

“That’s enough,” President Shinra cut in. “I’m convinced.”

“Stop,” the black-clad man commanded. “Dress yourself and await orders.”

Weiss left off fighting, which he now knew was only a waste of energy, and let his body mechanically pull his boots back on, and refasten his knee guards. The sensation was bizarre and disturbing.

“As I promised, Mr. President, the perfect SOLDIER,” Hojo announced, with a grand flourish in Weiss’ direction. “Not only is he at least as strong as the successful S-type specimen, he is perfectly compliant and controllable. I imagine—especially in light of recent, embarrassing incidents—you would appreciate never having to doubt the obedience or loyalty of your SOLDIERs. With sufficient funding, I can create a whole army just like him, in Deepground. A second, superior SOLDIER unit, to report only to yourself, through the Restrictor, who is linked directly to the control chip, via—”

“Enough ballyhoo, Hojo, I said I was convinced,” President Shinra interrupted, impatiently. “Consider your project funded, at your discretion. Whatever you need, to get this up and running. But I want full functionality in six months.”

“Hm, hm, such a tight deadline,” Hojo said, pretending to deliberate. “But…if I’m not interfered with, I believe I can make that work.”

“Good. See that you do.”

While they talked, Scarlet had come over and was tracing her crimson-nailed fingertips over the flawlessly sculpted muscles of Weiss’ bare chest and abdomen. He couldn’t move to do anything about it, so he ignored her and focused on running some calculations in his head.

“You know, he only looks like an adult,” Hojo said aridly, to Scarlet, who had hooked her finger into Weiss’ waistband, and pulled it out, to peer down inside. “He’s sixteen years old.”

“Sixteen is an adult. Or have you already forgotten the measures we pushed into law, so you and Heidegger could get younger conscripts.” Scarlet arched her eyebrow at the impressive view she’d treated herself to, before she let the waistband snap back into place. “I think I’ll come visit Deepground sometime, soon. Just to see how things are developing down there.”

Weiss had been engrossed in his thoughts, and aware of none of what was happening around him. He had analyzed the situation, and extrapolated all the potential results, but no matter how he approached it, he kept arriving at the same solution: Deepground was fucked. And it was his fault.

“Nero. I’m sorry,” he whispered to the darkness. “I’m so sorry. I ruined everything. Please, forgive me. ”

He felt Nero’s confusion and anguished worry, and also his comforting aura, reaching out to coil around him, across the void.

“It will be alright, my love,” came the answer. “Whatever is coming, we can face it, together.”

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