#a threat that can't be beaten either

[hungrydogs-if]

editing the 'incident' portion of the game rn and wanted to share a treat.

have at thee, the last the mc ever saw of the ro's before they got got. (am making jokes because this chapter is sad)

so, what did the mc witness before losing all their friends?

well, they saw;

dane swinging a chair at an armed swat officer before tackling them to the ground.

mona throwing threats and thrashing against five officers holding her down.

sam having a panic attack while staring down the barrel of a rifle pointed at their face.

thirteen seemingly unfazed or even bored, kneeling on the ground with their hands on their head. (well, helmet.)

and then there was angel who arrested the mc once they got taken down during pursuit. nothing says budding friendship like being read your miranda rights.

[dutybcrne]

Me BSing hcs like: The fact that Kae is not only able to create a shield when he is dangerously low HP but also the fact that he is able to regenerate HP when he hits opponents with Frostgnaw is definitely due to him receiving his Vision when Diluc had tried to kill him in their Confrontation...but could it be possible that his familial ties to the Abyss Order could have influenced that HP drain of his-

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Wrong Number

Bruce prides himself in keeping all of his networks secured. If he didn't make it himself, he had the funds and connections to get him the best working on his systems.

He had backup plans in case the systems were ever hacked, of course, but he had yet to encounter a cyber attack that wasn't beaten away by his firewalls or his team.

Babs and Tim were far more feral when booting out unwanted guests. The level of protection was also transferred to his other systems that weren't Batman-related, just to make sure the connection between Bruce and Batman was never made.

That's why he never really checks his personal phone's caller ID, not the one he gave out as Brucie Wayne, but the one Bruce used for his real life without any masks- civilian or vigilante. The only ones who had the number- and the access- were his children and Alfred.

Not even the Justice League- those who were aware of his identity- knew of this number.

Bruce is in the middle of typing up a report for the next Wayne Board meeting when his personal phone rings. He figures it's Dick giving him a call to update him on his drive home or maybe Jason, as his son was planning on going to college.

"Go for Papa Bruce," He says, knowing his kids hate his phone greeting and doing it deliberately to spite them.

There is a long pause where he can't help but smirk thinking his child is either rolling their eyes or cringing too hard to properly speak. Eventually, a voice cracks over the speaker.

"Hello. I'm selling cookies to raise money for my own star. Would like to buy a box from me?" says a boy, not one he has taken in. The voice is young maybe not even double digits yet. Bruce is alarmed.

"Who are you?! How did you get this number?" He demands, yanking his phone to his face and seeing, with a chill, a phone number out of state.

His system had been compromised. By a child. By accident.

"My name is Danny!" The boy chirps. "I sell cookies. Like the Girl Scouts, but I'm a boy, and I don't scout."

"That's rather fantastic, lad. What kind of cookies are you selling?" Bruce asks to keep the boy on the line while sending an email blast to the others. It's a string of numbers that are code for compromise so they all know to close any communication channel until it's safe to get back on.

"Chocolate chip. Mint Slim. Oatmeal and peanut butter. I made them myself!"

Right. Bruce hooks up his phone, tracing the call. The signal bounces off the call, swinging up to a salute and falling back down to earth. In seconds he has the boy's location. It pings in a small town right outside of Star City.

He sends Barry a private message. His friend is already on the way to the location. He'll get the boy in a few seconds.

"How much for a box of chocolate chips? Those are my favorite." Bruce tells the boy, voice whimsical as his Brucie persona demands.

In an unsure tone, the boy pauses, then whispers, "I don't know. No one ever let me get this far."

"How about twenty for a box of dozen? I'll buy five boxes for each of my kids that live at him," Bruce tells him, and the boy gasps.

"That could buy me one whole night in a hotel!"

Bruce's insides freeze. What did he mean-

"Hey! No! Let go!" Danny suddenly screams. Bruce's heart launches- he hates it when kids get hurt, especially those that sound like Danny- until Barry's voice comes over the speaker.

"I got him, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for alerting the Justice League Hotline." That's code for This is not a threat to you Batman and Bruce allows himself to relax just a little.

"Narc!" The boy shouts, outraged, before the call drops. Barry is likely taking over the situation, which means Bruce can leave it in his capable hands.

After reassuring his kids that he is fine and that they are all safe, he suits up and meets the Flash in the Watch Tower. There, he learns that Danny is only seven years old and has been living on the streets for a while.

The boy had been surviving by baking some cookies to sell on the side of the street- where did he bake them? The boy would not say- until he got the bright idea to try to sell through phone calls like he had seen on TV.

He punched in random numbers at the community center phone and gave his pitch about a star, thinking people would be more willing to buy from him if he had an excellent reason.

Barry had left him with CPS, but he looked devastated about that. It turned out that Danny was a meta and had likely been kicked out of his home once it was found out based on what he said of his parents.

Bruce felt he should assure Barry that Danny was fine and look into his placement to help settle his more sensitive teammate's nerves.

He was unhappy that Danny was not in a good placement; there were far too many reports from a concerned neighbor to make him think it was a safe place. Given the fact that placement had a lot of meta kids that "fell through the cracks," Bruce worried he had just stumbled across a trafficking ring.

He would sick Barry and Jason on them. Just to ensure they wouldn't see the light of day again.

Still, that did not fix his mistake with Danny, the little cookie seller.

Bruce hacked into the system to move Danny. He thought about where he would move the young child but ultimately had him in Wayne Manor.

Just until he could confirm that he would be safe. He certainly didn't think about the adorable little boy who called him with his heart in his hand and got sent to a terrible place for three weeks because of Bruce.

Danny arrived at Wayne Manor with a happy little bounce and a chipper outlook on life than Bruce was expecting. "If it isn't Mr. Narc!"

God, he going to adopt the boy, isn't he?

(Danny has been thrown into a different universe, aged down to a child. He survived by overshadowing people into letting him spend the night baking cookies.

He was thrown into a somewhat typical home, but the nosy neighbor down the street took far too much notice of his overshadowing, and now he was being moved again.

Maybe he can terrorize Mr. Narc now instead? )

[lakesbian]

nobody move. i've just successfully articulated the sentiment that taylor's power turns her into a panopticon because she was living in one & explained her trigger in a way i feel satisfied with for the first time in my life

the concept of the panopticon is not just about surveillance, but about creating an environment where people cannot be sure whether or not they are being surveilled, and thus must constantly act under the assumption that they are. which is exactly what happened to taylor--we see from when we first meet her in the school that she's anticipating attack from every possible direction to avoid it, and the one time she lets her guard down a fraction and assumes she's found a safe spot to hide from abuse, she's targeted with the juice spills. and this is after her trigger event, but it's clear she behaves this way because it was beaten into her over the entire course of the bullying. it's what she describes when she recounts the trigger:

“I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.  But I made a friend, one of the girls who had sometimes joined in on the taunting came to me and apologized.  ...  Her approaching me and befriending me was one of the big reasons I could think the harassment was ending.  I never really let my guard down around her, but she was pretty cool about it. “And for most of November and the two weeks of classes before Christmas break, nothing.  They were leaving me alone.  I was able to relax.” I sighed, “That ended the day I came back from the winter break. I knew, instinctually, that they were playing me, that they were waiting before they pulled their next stunt, so it had more impact. I didn’t think they’d be so patient about it. I went to my locker, and well, they’d obviously raided the bins from the girls bathrooms or something, because they’d piled used pads and tampons into my locker. Almost filled it.”

the precise moment when she stopped consciously anticipating and preparing to react to abuse--when she relaxed, when she stopped acting as if the lack of danger didn't mean that she couldn't still be hurt at any time--is when she was brutally reminded that she's never safe. she's still in the panopticon. she isn't literally being watched every second, she isn't literally in lifelong danger of having her vulnerabilities exploited, but it feels like she is. she can never ever be sure she's safe.

so she triggers, and she gets a power that turns her into a panopticon, and lets her watch everyone right back. it lets her regain control by turning her into a source of danger that could attack anywhere, from any direction, any time, fully unexpected.

& the reason her power enables her to watch Everyone--not just a single person, or a few people--but Everyone, is that the other major aspect of her trigger is the trauma of facts like this:

“It was pretty obvious that they had done it before the school closed for Christmas, by the smell alone. I bent over to throw up, right there in a crowded hallway, everyone watching. Before I could recover or stop losing my breakfast, someone grabbed me by the hair, hard enough it hurt, and shoved me into the locker.”

"All I could think was that someone had been willing to get their hands that dirty to fuck with me, but of all the students that had seen me get shoved in the locker, nobody was getting a janitor or teacher to let me out."

for months, for years, she was in a community where everyone regularly witnessed her humiliation and abuse, and everyone, dozens and dozens of kids and teachers, either contributed to it or was knowingly, silently complacent. this is what sticks with her: the idea that she is so universally reviled, so deserving of revile, that any crowd of witnesses would, without hesitation, consign her to the filth of the locker.

what else is she supposed to conclude, but that everyone she interacts with is a threat? that she can't drop her guard ever again, because no one will be coming to help her if she does? of course she has to become the panopticon. of course she has to watch everyone, all of the time, if she wants to stop it from happening again. of course she has to live among the teeming lowly and crawling things she has been taught via one firm shove that she is worth less than, and of course she has to use them to watch everyone back. and it would be inaccurate to say that doing this--monitoring everything with her bugs--makes her feel safe. all it does is allow her to remain in a constant state of paranoia and traumatized hyper-vigilance more efficiently.

[yandere-daydreams]

Sphinx!Xiao, who finds you stranded in the desert after your research group gets separated. A pack of wild coyote hybrids thought to be amicable, if not friendly towards humans attacked your camp in the middle of the night and sent you running aimlessly into the sand plains without time to gather food or water, let alone distress flares. By the time you stumble onto a wind-beaten temple, you're freezing, dehydrated, and exhausted. You barely have the strength to drag yourself up the meager steps and through the degraded doorway before you collapse on the sandstone floor, only able to hope that, by some miracle, a search party would be able to find you before you died of exposure. A search party doesn't find you, obviously, but Xiao does.

Sphinx!Xiao, who refuses to show himself for days. You only know he's there by the gifts he leaves you - cactus pears, palm dates, flasks of water and bitter wine that burns your throat as it goes down. It's not much, but it's enough to keep you alive, and you're too desperate to turn down anything he gives you. He's generous, too, giving you more than enough to get by while you're still in that state of bleary half-consciousness. You think he can tell that survival's not your area of expertise, that if you were left to your own devices, it'd only be a matter of time before you ate something poisonous or wandered into a bobcat den. That, or you're just pathetic enough to earn a few sand-covered blankets on top of the bare necessities.

Sphinx!Xiao, who lets you fawn over him with a purse-lipped scowl when you do finally manage to corner your elusive savior. You honestly just want to thank him, but once he's in front of you, you can't help grinning as you rake your fingers through the ivory feathers of his massive wings and scratch at the bases of his rounded ears. You've never so much as heard of a creature with both the wings and eyes of a bird-based hybrid and the legs, tail, and fangs of a cat-based hybrid, so you can't stop yourself from treating him like the eighth wonder of the world (unintended affection a touch-starved Xiao secretly basks in, not that you notice the pale blush painted across his skin while you're performing a remarkably thorough investigation on the color of his paw-pads).

Sphinx!Xiao, who stand-offish at best, reclusive at worst. He's clearly not used to having someone to talk to, his voice rough and his dialogue usually limited to one-word phrases or barked orders, but you can usually manage to string along your brief conversations on your own, either wondering aloud when you might be rescued or telling him about all the things you're going to do when you make it back to civilization. For every hour you spend fantasizing about baths and take-out and air conditioning, he spares a few words about himself. From what you can gather, he's a guardian of-sorts, meant to protect people like you from a threat he claims you couldn't begin to understand. You're not really in a place to question him, considering you didn't even know a hybrid like him could exist a few weeks ago.

Sphinx!Xiao, who also claims he's not allowed to 'meddle in human matters', meaning he can't help you beyond making sure you don't starve to death. You've asked him if he's seen anyone looking for you while hunting, but he's never given you a straight answer, and when you suggest that he just, say, put that twenty-foot wingspan to use and drop you off on the edge of the nearest town or village, he just scowls, rolls his eyes, refuses to say anything at all. You want to press the subject, sometimes, but you really can't afford to annoy him, to make yourself even more of an irritation to him than you already are. You wouldn't survive a day out here, on your own. You wouldn't survive without Xiao.

Sphinx!Xiao, whose gifts have been getting more... modern, recently. Luxuries are still few and far between, but you have a small store of canned food, now, a couple fleece blankets that don't seem at least a decade old, bits of scrap metal and glass that must've caught Xiao's eye. You try not to pry, not to turn down anything he gives you, but his most recent gift - a half-crushed, silver wedding band with an odd, scarlet stain you can't seem to polish away - hasn't seen the light of day since he dropped it into your hand.

Sphinx!Xiao, who keeps his wings wrapped around you as you sob into his shoulder and beat your fists against his chest. You're not in the temple anymore, dilapidated and open, but his den - a hellish, lightless cave filled to bursting with golden jewelry and century-old artifacts and scraps of metal and clothing that couldn't have come from anything but human travelers, from dozens upon dozens of people who could've saved you if he hadn't gotten in the way.

Sphinx!Xiao, who hums and coos and purrs as he rubs circles into your back, as he promises that he's not going to hurt you, that he's not going to let anything hurt you ever again.

Sphinx!Xiao, who's always been a guardian, first and foremost. It's just that now, he's decided it's his responsibility to guard you.

[sufrimientilia]

whumpy jail thoughts…

obvious cw

Whumpee in jail for a long stint and playing it cool, everything breezy. like this is exactly where they belong

Whumpee framed for a crime or unjustly imprisoned. Caretaker fighting relentlessly to get them out

Forced confessions that are obviously forced. bruises and hollow features, glazed eyes and mechanical words

Whumpee and Caretaker sitting together in a cubicle, separated by glass, voices cracked and hollow between old hand phones

Whumpee fiddling with the metal cord, nervous or embarrassed or traumatized, so shell-shocked by their situation

Whumpee taken off protective custody when they should definitely be on it

“Are you sure everything is okay?” everything is very obviously not okay

new bruises or injuries every time Caretaker visits

After legal efforts Caretaker finally gets visitation. Whumpee getting wheeled in, so beaten by guards and inmates alike they can’t even stand

Whumpee so mercilessly fucked up they can’t even track the conversation, and the guards hold Whumpee’s head up and act like everything is normal as Caretaker cries and pleads behind the glass

Caretaker advocating in vain to do something about Whumpee’s condition. the guards never care

“Prisoner is in infirmary. No visitation.”

“Prisoner denies visitation.” Caretaker never knows if it’s what Whumpee wants or just what the guards say

Caretaker increasingly desperate to see Whumpee. Coming to visit day after day or yelling at the visitation clerk and finally getting kicked out

Whumpee looking so small and frail, hunched over and handcuffed to a silver metal table

Whumpee nothing like their former self, washed out in bright orange or dull beige colors

Whumpee still so intimidating and dangerous shacked from wrists to ankles. Always flanked by guards with rifles, tension so heavy with the very real paranoia he’ll just snap

bruises and abrasions and flakes of red caked around wrists, purple and jagged and ugly

Whumpee in solitude. Alone day after day, stuck with their own thoughts and forced to sit in silence, talk to the walls, stare at nothing but grey and grey and grey. Hearing voices and arguing with themself and spiraling with every thought they didn’t want to confront

Whumpee pacing back and forth until every inch of the cell is memorized and written into their core

Whumpee stuck with a cellmate so vicious, so abrasive, so overwhelming. Not a single moment to himself without violence or discomfort

Guards who are dirty, crooked, corrupt. turning the cameras every time batons are raised or ignoring the violent rackets in the yard and the screams between prison bars late at night

Inmates who run the place, beating Whumpee to make a point, establishing their place as top dog through force and blood and fear

Prison fights, so dirty and rabid. rusty shivs, getting outnumbered, guards who either take too long or tase and beat everyone into submission

Whumpees who can barely eat, barely sleep. Never given the option or just so damn wired up and on edge all the time with damn good reason

Whumpee is always looking forwards to visitation day. anything is a threat to take it away

Forced to be a snitch. threatened by fellow inmates, threatened by the guards, absolutely no one Whumpee can trust

Conversations with Caretaker are heavily monitored. words always loaded and coded, unable to touch and barely able to talk

Visiting Whumpee in the infirmary. Wrists cuffed to the bed, not enough pain relief, obviously neglected

Whumpee shackled to the bed and no one bothering to feed them, food sitting just out of reach

Caretaker promising to get them out of here. Whumpee knows they can't do anything

Whumpee is forced to adapt, be a part of the system. prison only makes them worse and they become even more violent than before

prison riots that put the place on lockdown. Caretaker denied visitation, not being told if Whumpee was involved or is okay

Whumpee getting addicted to whatever drugs get smuggled in. getting forced into doing them or just desperate for an escape or actual pain relief

Caretaker only being able to witness Whumpee's decline in brief increments days or weeks apart. like snapshot after snapshot of worsening abuse they can do nothing about

Whumpees finally getting out and given the same folded clothes they wore when they first got to this place. none of it fits right anymore

[lunnybunny12]

Blitz x Reader (patching him up)

Masterlist

REQUESTS OPEN

This is mostly word vomit but hope you enjoy it.

Blitz comes back from a job pretty beaten up.

"Hey, Loona? its getting late I'm gonna head home," you said, closing your computer.

"kay. See you tomorrow " she answered while still looking at her phone.

When you and Millie moved to the pride ring, nether of you expected to be working at I.M.P. Millie got a job there pretty much right away. She would always come home to your apartment frustrated because of the lack of organisation of jobs.

One day you decided to meet her at work and walked into chaos. piles and piles of paperwork strewed everywhere. You offered to help and the boss offered you a job. Its been a few years since then.

"Thank you." you chimed.

Just as you were about to go file away the last few documents and head home, the portal to Earth opened. Moxie and Milie came through with a few scratches but Blitz took one step and then fell flat on his face.

"Holey fuck what happened?" you asked picking up Blits and dragging him to a chair.

"OW! ow ow. Some fucker got me a few times" Blitz said through his teeth.

"I'll say" Millie huffed " The guy practically had him on the ropes"

You looked at Blitz who had a look on his face that read: angry and embarrassed.

" Ah Thank you, Millie. Ever the ray of sunshine" Blitz growled at her.

"Ha ha well... Sir we're going to call it a night. It's uh getting kind of late" Moxie nervously chuckled

"Yea. You all go home. I'll lock up and see you tomorrow"

After that Blitz shuffled himself into his office and closed the door behind him. A few drops of blood followed behind him.

"How... bad was he hurt?" you asked walking to get the first aid kit from the shelf.

"Not bad enough to go to the hospital but he was definitely shaken"

"You want me to help you patch him up?"

"Nah Loona I'll be fine. Could you keep an eye on him when he gets home?"

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

The second that door closed behind him Blitz silently screamed in embarrassment.

He got his ass kicked, fell flat on his face and had Millie make him look like an absolute idiot. AND HE DIDN'T EVEN KILL THE GUY!

And to make things worse it happened all in front of you. He could've melted into that chair.

Since you were hired the two of you have flirted back and forth originally for Blitz it was entirely work place banter. Something to piss off Moxie and to keep up moral but as time went on he started to like you more and more.

Blitz was brought back to reality when he heard a knock on the door.

"Hey handsome, how you doing?" you chimed, closing the door behind you.

He felt heat rush to his face.

"I thought you went home?" he chuffed

"nope. Can't have my favourite boss die. who would sign my paycheck?" you winked.

Blitz laughed "And here I was thinking you liked me for my dazzling personality"

You smiled and gave him a quick look over. he had a few cuts on his face and arms but no sign of where the blood could be coming from. His face was pretty red too.

"Come on pretty boy, can sit on the desk?"

He sent you a pained look.

"Well...it's either you sit on the desk or I sit on your lap"

"OOO is that supposed to be a threat, sweetheart? He smiled wiggling his eyebrows making you blush.

You rolled your eyes and helped him to the desk. It was a bit of a struggle to lift him up there.

"Wow, your desk is huge!"

"Yeah, I get that a lot " He was about to stretch but then recoiled in pain making the pair of you chuckle again.

A while later he was all bandaged up and the bleeding had stopped.

"Ok. I'm gonna clean the cuts on your face and then I'm taking you home."

"You don't have to do that "

"Yea well it's gonna happen and I don't wanna hear you complain about it. Plus it gives me an excuse to hang out with you longer so that's that."

You had a cotton pad with antiseptic hovering over his face.

"This is gonna sting a little but I need you to stay still"

"OW"

Your hand went under his chin to make him look at you. For a second your eyes locked. You could see so many emotions swirling around and you felt your face heat up.

"I-Im sorry" you stammerd

"Wha - no no you... do what you need to do"

That's when the pair of you saw the position you were in. You were stood between his legs. Your faces were inches away from each other and both your hands were on his face.

You both felt as if you were on fire.

Eventually, he swallowed his pride and asked "Can I uh... try something?"

You nodded.

He nervously wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you even closer into a hug. Suddenly ...his cuts didn't hurt anymore.

"Thank you, by the way. I haven't had someone care about me in a while"

A shakey sigh escaped you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to hug him back. Resting your head on top of his.

You both stayed like that for a while but you could've stayed there forever.

After you calmed down a little you guided his face to look at you again.

"Blitz?"

"Uh oh. You're using my name. Am I in trouble?"

Your face went red again " Do you wanna be?" you asked leaning in closer, your eyes flickering to his lips.

He quickly realized what you were talking about and he smiled the biggest grin you'd ever seen.

"Fuck yes"

[tare-anime]

SxF Mission 84

(Beware of spoilers)

Oh woooooowwwwwwwwww!!!

Wheeler is really one capable spy!!!

Totally love him, Endo!!!

He can easily defeat 3 WISE agents!

Turning the table when it seems like he was already arrested

Using a small knife to nullified gun threats

And not falling for Twilight's tricks, even beat him down!!

Whoah....

Yea I know Twilight is already injured. But Wheeler really is a league of his own

With that kind of stamina, agility, skills, and adaptable analysis accuracy, are we sure he is not triple agent? That he's actually part of Garden?? Because I don't think SSS can have an agent of this caliber 🤣🤣🤣🤣 (sorry SSS).

Anyway, the chapter end with unhinged Fiona.

After unhinged Melinda back then, now we have unhinged Fiona. Endo sure loves his female characters, eh?? (And I love Endo for that 🥰)

Now the questions are, what is the reason for Fiona's rage? Is it:

1. A simple fangirl getting angry because her idol is hurt? Which is, tbh, rather meh. I really hope Endo use this narrative to develop Fiona's character. Which make possible reason no.2 is more interesting. That is...

2. Fiona's ideal or perfect Twilight (in her fantasy) is being broken to dust. She has to accept a bitter truth that at the end, Twilight is just another human and that's he is not invincible. So she better stop putting him on pedestal, and worship him. It is about time she surpass her mentor.

"Ambitious Fiona" is still a far more interesting characterization rather than "crazy fangirl with crazy dreams Fiona".

3. Fiona that has realized that Twilight is just mere human, now change her target to Wheeler. She has to kill this man (but Wheeler survive) and thus begin the cat and mouse game between the two. (What? Fiona and Wheeler? Don't you guys see it in that panel? How Wheeler flirt with Fiona by mocking her incapability? Fiona-Wheeler--> Feeler? 🤣🤣🤣 lol, I'm joking. Or maybe not 👀)

4. Fiona and Yuri first meet! She is upset cause Yuri is getting beaten down! (Ok, this is just my YuriIona impossible wish 🤣)

Ahem, what? Twilight is destinied to be with Yor. So let's make harem for Fiona instead.

Ok ok.

Angsty thought now.

What will happen when Yor heard the news that both of her boys has now been hurt and hospitalized? They might tell her that both got in a "totally happen in different place" car accident. But Yor herself is not a stranger to martial arts. She would definitelly recognize the wounds on Loid's and Yuri's body as a result from fighting. She will be devastated for sure. But her reaction can be:

1. She blame herself, and then start to do her night job harder. Kill harder. Clean the place harder.

2. She connects the dots and realized that Loid and Yuri has fight the other. She might be very upset at both of them. Yor herself might be not thinking about the boy's secret identity, but this will lead Yuri to realize who Loid really is.

Either way, this arc is getting more and more interesting!!!

I can't wait to read more, Endo! 🥰🥰

[desertleviathan]

On the Company of Heroes

The Warrior of Light: Yo, I heard the Kobolds have summoned Titan. Or are preparing to summon Titan. Or summoned him briefly, dismissed him, and are about to summon him again after acquiring more crystals. Or summoned him, but he's chilling in an incorporeal state so that he can appear dramatically in a way that looks as though he's being summoned for the first time during the cutscene at the start of his instanced battle. It's... not super clear honestly. But what is clear is that somebody needs to do something about it. And I am recently employed as a Primal Slayer so, hey, I'm here to do the thing. Just point me in the right direction.

Wheiskaet: What?

WoL: Oh sorry, I guess it's been a while for you, hasn't it? I've been informed that you know a secret backdoor to the Kobolds' favorite Titan-Summoning Chamber. If you could just tell me where that is that would be excellent, please and thank you!

Wheiskaet: Now hold up there kid, I can't in good conscience send some novice adventurer off to die in battle with a Primal!

The WoL: I appreciate the concern, but for real, don't even worry about it. My axe is literally still hot from cleaving through Ifrit's torso. I should have mentioned that first, sorry! It was a pretty easy fight actually. Took like ten minutes, and more than half of that was waiting for the queue. So, uh, Titan? Just… show me where…

Wheiskaet: When me and my crew fought Titan back in the day we only pulled off a narrow victory by sacrificing countless fighters, literally grinding him to a halt with a mountain of our dead piled up around his big rocky feet.

The WoL: Really? I slew Ifrit backed up by only three random low-ranking Scions who were among the beaten and malnourished captives taken by the Amalj'aa. And we got it done without any casualties. Coincidentally, they're all three in much better shape now, and still available to help me with this. So. Where's Titan?

Wheiskaet: Oh. Uh. Well. We were simultaneously facing Leviathan on a second front…

The WoL: That sounds like a really raw deal, man! Just an absolute mess! Fortunately for all of us, the Sahagin won't get their shit together until Patch 2.2, and Leviathan is nowhere to be seen. Where. Is. Titan?

Wheiskaet: You don't understand, he emits a magical field that can steal your free will! It's a miracle that you got out of Ifrit's lair with your wits!

The WoL: Funny story! I'm one of a handful of individuals who are immune to that! The phenomenon isn't widely known, but it is thoroughly documented. My colleague here, a scholar of some renown who is apparently already known to you personally, and who carries her credentials as a certified Sharlayan master of Aetherology literally tattooed on her neck, can vouch for all of that.

Y'shtola: Hello! My associate is indeed immune to Tempering, as well as a skilled and accomplished fighter. These being the two primary credentials we sought for our new staff position of full-time Primal Killer. The individual standing before you is the most qualified candidate to be found in all of Eorzea, as I can attest to either from personal observation or from the testimony of my most trusted colleagues, depending on which of the three city states their journey began in. Where is Titan, please?

Wheiskaet: Listen. I believe that you both believe this rookie is some kind of badass. But a threat like Titan ain't for the untested.

The WoL: I appreciate the concern, I really do, but let's look at all the pieces in play here before we decide to label any of them useless. My understanding is that once a Primal is fully manifest, it can stay manifest so long as there's a power source. The big heap of earth crystals the Kobolds probably used to kindle him just catalyzed the process, but after that he can sustain himself by leeching aether directly from the land, corect?

Y'shtola: Oh, bravo! You actually listened to my lecture!

Wheiskaet: I guess that all checks out with what I know.

The WoL: So there are three possibilities. In the first one, Titan sucks up aether until he feels confident enough to just Juggernaut his way southwards, killing or tempering literally everyone he encounters until all of Vylbrand is a graveyard, pretty much unstoppable unless you use the kind of brutal sacrifice play the Company of Heroes had to resort to back in the day. And even that's no guarantee. But maybe, just maybe, the Thalassocracy will be able to leverage enough firepower to stop him before the body count gets too catastrophic.

Wheiskaet: (Nodding) Aye, that's what I expect will happen.

The WoL: The second possibility, and tactically the smartest move in my opinion, is where Titan just lurks in place and bleeds Vylbrand dry, winning a war of attrition while guarded behind the innumerable ranks of tempered fanatic Kobolds who are ready to turn the heavily-fortified maze-like tunnels of O'Ghomoro into a meat grinder that would make your last encounter with their God look like a little light sparring. Eventually he'll run out of juice, but by then he'll be so powerful that he can just Godzilla his way over to the mainland and resume feeding from there, practically invulnerable to any countermeasures that wouldn't be considered an Eighth Umbral Calamity in their own right, and leaving every place he goes a withered husk.

Wheiskaet: Huh. When you lay it out like that, it almost sounds inevitable.

The WoL: And the third possibility is that someone gets in there as soon as possible and puts Titan down before he can get too bloated with aether. This being the only possibility that doesn't lead to a mountain of Limsan corpses at best, or star-wide mass extinction event at worst.

Wheiskaet: Mm-hmm, I hear what you're saying and it does make sense. You've got a good head on your shoulders there. You'll make a fine commander some day.

The WoL: Thank you. So even if the third plan involves considerable risk for whoever pulls it off, if they succeed it avoids a tremendous amount of bloodshed. And if it fails… your top secret back door would still work for a second team, right? Or a third? Your secret door obviously isn't just a door. So it will still potentially be a sacrifice play, but channeling our forces through this specific vulnerability will keep the body count from growing quite as massive as it would be if we met Titan on the open field of battle.

Wheiskaet: So you guessed that the way in is an Aethernet Crystal, huh?

The WoL: If it was a physical passage, the Kobolds would have charted it and sealed it up ages ago, given how tunnels are pretty much their main deal. So now that we're on the same page… how do I get to Titan?

Wheiskaet: You don't.

The WoL: I don't?

Wheiskaet: No.

The WoL: Ok. New approach. What are we doing instead?

Wheiskaet: We?

The WoL: If the Company of Heroes is the only 'proven' anti-Titan force you trust, you're getting the band back together to handle this yourselves, right? Where do I enlist? It'll be… an honor, I guess, to fight alongside you.

Wheiskaet: Haha! Hah! Nah, no, definitely not! We're all super-duper retired from God Slaying. I'm head of security at this rich guy's beach house! I can't just take the day off!

The WoL: Wow. Ok. Congratulations. So will you tell Maelstrom HQ how they can access the secret back door, and send through their elite hand-picked team (that I'll almost certainly wind up leading)?

Wheiskaet: Why in the Hells would we do that?

The WoL: … Why indeed. What, then? Hold open auditions for Bad Enough Dudes until someone comes along who you think is sufficiently impressive? Even though the difficulty of the task will be ramping up the whole time you stall due to Titan gorging himself without pause?

Wheiskaet: Oh, finally an idea I can get behind! In fact, speaking of gorging, here you go…

The WoL: Is this… is this a fucking grocery list???

Wheiskaet: Aye! We're gonna have a picnic!

The WoL: Fine. Final new approach. I'm gonna kill this son of a bitch with my teeth, and hope that the taste of his blood triggers an Echo Vision that reveals how the secret door works.

Y'shtola: I'll hold his arms for you.

[seleneprince]

(Inspired by @chaoticdelinqueerwithglitter drabble about Bonten and Senju's possible impact in it. Check her blog if you want to see more about the Akashi siblings)

In the Bonten timeline, Senju was shot dead with three bullets, during the Three Deities Fight. In one she was attacked by desesperate Rokuhara members who couldn't handle their defeat, in another the bullets were aimed at Takemichi and so she shielded him with her own body, sacrificing her life.

Either way, the fact remains that, in any universe where Bonten exists, Senju Kawaragi is dead in it.

In the first version, it was her long-lost brother Haruchiyo who rushes to her side as soon as she falls, ignoring the fight and Mikey and everything else around him. He's the one that holds her on her final moments, who cries as she apologies to him and says that she never stopped loving him. He screams, rages, sobs, but he doesn't let go of Senju's body one second. When Takeomi cries in front of him, murmuring how it's his fault and how it should've been him, Haruchiyo feels a murderous rage boil in his heart and replies "You're right".

In the second version, it's Takemichi who holds Senju when she dies. She speaks of the promise she made to protect him and how she fulfilled it to the end. She bleeds out in his arms and Takemichi feels how the world becomes darker after she leaves. She's already dead when Haruchiyo reaches her, shoving the other boy away to hold her. Her skin is growing cold and her eyes are closed and Haruchiyo knows that he's going to be stuck in this moment for the rest of his life. He calls for her, shakes her, desesperately wanting to see some reaction, something that indicates there's still hope. Nothing happens. Everything else happens the same, except now Haruchiyo's eternal resentment its focused on two people and not just one.

South is killed, beaten to death by Mikey, who refuses to look at Senju's body. Haruchiyo hunts all Rokuhara members one by one, ensuring the ones that killed Senju have a very slow and painful demise. Brahman is disbanded and those who aren't too traumatized by their former leader's death join Kanto Manji's lines, and eventually Bonten. Benkei and Wakasa leave the world of gangs for good, unable to look past Senju's memory now.

In Bonten, Sanzu doesn't hide his hatred for Takeomi. He never forgave him for how he treated him in his youth, but now he has a much bigger reason to resent him. They don't talk, and when they do, it's all insults and threats. Takeomi avoids Sanzu like the plague, not because he's scared, but because looking at him feels like looking at a ghost. The same pink hair, the same long eyelashes, even the same eye color. It's all too much for Takeomi.

With Sanzu it depends. Sometimes he can't even look at his reflection, the too familiar features always sending him into a spiral of grief and mad pain. Sometimes he can stare into a mirror for hours, because painful as it is, at least he can pretend the one looking back at him it's someone else. How twisted that all that remains of her it's in his own face.

Takeomi can't bring himself to sell their childhood house, even if no one lives there anymore. Being there became too painful after Senju's death so of course he moved, but losing this house will also mean losing all the memories that remain in there. Senju's former room it's the only one untouched since she left. Everything else has been fixed for other uses, like stocking supplies for Bonten, but everyone knows that particular room with sakura flowers painted in the door must be ignored. Sanzu once caught one of their newest additions trying to get a look inside and ripped his eyes off, before shooting him dead. All of it after he dragged the poor fool out of the house first, of course.

Sanzu can't stand the sounds of gunshots anymore, unless it's him who's shooting the bullets. He also hates the rain and can't even set a foot in the streets when it happens. He visits Senju's grave when he can, preferably on a sunny day, and talks to her about his day. He makes sure his visits don't overlap with Takeomi, but if they accidentally do, it's the only time the two brothers coexist in silence.

Senju's ghost never leaves them. Sanzu can only hope that, whatever awaits for him in death, he at least gets to see her once again.

[namixart]

It Takes Two

Read on AO3!

"Whatever happens, you can't fall in love with me. Even if you think you have, it's not real."

Cloud takes Aerith's request and turns it into a challenge.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” Cloud sat down across from Aerith, and she spotted his frown through the fire burning between them. Their small camp was tucked away in a corner of the Mythril Mines, on a ledge that Cloud and Barret had deemed reasonably defensible. Still, someone needed to keep watch, and it was Aerith’s turn. With Cloud now sitting silently across from her.

Across. Not beside her. Confrontational and direct in a way Cloud usually wasn’t when he joined her during her shifts. Curious.

Aerith cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

He shot her a half-glare, as if she should’ve guessed what he was talking about from his complete lack of preamble. “You know,” he said, predictably, gesturing vaguely with his hand. Confrontational, yes. But still uncomfortable with words. That was a clue as to what he meant, at least. But she wasn’t going to bail him out of that one. Not if he couldn’t even get it out himself. It’d buy her some time, at least.

“I really don’t. You know me—I’m a talker. Can’t remember ‘em all.” She shrugged with a smile.

Cloud huffed. “Oh, I’m sure you remember this one. It’s a doozy,” he said sardonically. He closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself. “‘Whatever happens, you can’t fall in love with me. Even if you think you have, it’s not real.’” He opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Ring a bell?”

Verbatim. Even two weeks after their shared dream, two weeks of fighting and travelling and trying to change their fate, her words were burned in his memory. Just like the look on his face was burned in hers, she supposed.

Aerith let out a half giggle. “Ah. That does kinda shake a tambourine. What about it?” Stalling, stalling, stalling, buying time until she figured out what to say, what to do. He wanted an explanation, he wanted a say, he wanted the truth, and she couldn’t give it to him. The Whispers had taken it away. She didn’t know why she’d asked him that anymore, but she knew it was important. She knew it was for the best, in spite of the sheer agony it brought her to deny herself the chance to try. The chance to love him. It was important, but she didn’t know why anymore. And now Cloud would want to know.

He frowned at her. “Bullshit.”

Aerith blinked once. Twice. Furrowed her brows. “Well, that’s not very polite,” she said, forcing the airy cheer in her voice. Not what she was expecting, either. “What do you—”

Cloud shook his head. “Bullshit,” he repeated. “You can’t ask someone not to—you can’t ask me that.”

In spite of herself, Aerith cracked half a smile. There he was. Confrontational, yes, but he couldn’t say it twice. Her heart squeezed with affection for her—no, not hers. Never hers. Just Cloud.

“Why?” she asked. She’d beaten him to the punch. A well-placed why was a dangerous weapon. And, when aimed correctly at Cloud Strife, it had the power to make him swerve away from uncomfortable topics like they would burn him.

But he just frowned harder. “Because you don’t get to put that on me.”

Caught off-guard again, Aerith stared. “What?”

Cloud finally averted his eyes from her. “You can’t put that on me,” he repeated. “If you don’t feel—If you don’t want—” He gestured awkwardly between the two of them, and the flames of the campfire trembled— “then fine.��

Aerith forced a smile. This was what she wanted. It was. Distance between them. To protect him. From a threat she didn’t even know anymore. It was what she wanted. “Good. Then—”

“I’m not done.” He met her gaze again, stubborn and resolute. “You don’t get to put this on me. It takes two.”

“Huh?” Thrown off-balance again. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Aerith was supposed to be the one in control of her reactions. “What do you mean?”

Cloud crossed his arms. “I don’t get why you’d ask me that. And I doubt you’ll tell me.” He raised an eyebrow. Touché. But not for the reasons he thought. “I just know it’s got something to do with Whispers and fate and the Planet and all that.” He made a sharp, frustrated gesture in the general direction of the rest of the cave. “I know you wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.”

“That’s right,” said Aerith, slowly. Where was he going with this?

Cloud pressed his lips together. “But you can’t put it on me. I don’t even know why it matters.”

She sighed. “Cloud—”

“It takes two,” he repeated, insistent like he was anchoring himself to those words, “so, if it’s that important, why don’t you not fall in love with me?”

“What!?” exclaimed Aerith, immediately regretting it when her voice echoed a little too loudly in the tunnels. “What?” she repeated in a whisper.

Cloud shrugged, faux-nonchalantly. “You heard me.”

“I did,” said Aerith. “But you—I... You can’t—”

He fixed her with an unimpressed look. “Oh, and you can?”

Aerith frowned. “That’s different.”

“Really.”

“Really.”

Cloud leaned forward, closer to the fire. It cast shifting shadows over his face, but the Mako glow in his eyes was steady. “Explain, then.”

She looked away. “I can’t. Not even if I wanted to. The Whispers—they took that knowledge away from me.”

He frowned again. “Then why—”

“Because I know it was important,” she said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “I know I was trying to protect you. And that hasn’t changed. So, please—”

Cloud sighed and leaned away. “Fine. Wasn’t expecting an explanation anyway. Still. It’s real unfair of you to put it on me.”

She shot him a lopsided smile. “I’m sorry?”

Cloud shook his head. “Nah. Not good enough. Puttin’ it back on you.” He crossed his arms. “Like I said: if you care that much, you try not falling in love with me.”

Aerith felt the competitive spark tingle under her skin. “Maybe I will. Won’t.” She giggled. “You know what I mean.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Ball’s in your court.”

A beat.

She stared at him. “Wait—You don’t mean... You’re not—” He couldn’t. It had only been two weeks and she’d warned him.

He couldn’t be in love with her. He just couldn’t.

Finally, Cloud’s usual awkwardness seeped back into his eyes as he realised what she was asking, what he’d implied. “No! I–uh, I’m not. No,” he said, stubbornly looking away from Aerith. “It’s the, uh, the principle of the thing. It takes two. And I don’t see why it’s gotta be on me.”

Because someone has to be responsible here, thought Aerith, and I might not be. Not if you keep saying stuff like that.

When she didn’t reply, Cloud leaned towards her again. “Shouldn’t be a problem for you. Right?” he said, barely above a whisper. “It’s what you want.”

Aerith held his gaze. “It’s not a problem,” she lied.

Something flickered on his face. Aerith tried not to think about how it looked a lot like hurt. “Right,” he said.

She let a small beat of silence pass, then she cracked a smile. “Did we just—this a game of chicken or something?”

Cloud chuckled. “Or something.”

She pouted. “That’s so childish.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it takes two.” He held a hand out over the fire.

It takes two to tango, it takes two to fall in love, it takes two to make a stupid childish bet.

Aerith took his hand. “It takes two,” she agreed, gripping it tight for a moment.

Cloud nodded slowly, then shook his head. “Right. I, uh, I better let you get back to your shift.” He let her hand go and stood up. Aerith tried not to notice how he’d held onto her fingertips for just a second too long. “I, um, I’m glad we cleared that up.”

“Yeah,” said Aerith, as she watched him circle the campfire to get back to the tent. “Right. Glad.” They’d cleared nothing up, and they both knew it.

He paused. “Night, Aerith.”

She turned back to the fire. “Night, Cloud.”

After one last beat of silence, she heard the quiet rustle of fabric as he slipped inside the tent.

Then, left alone with just the crackling fire to underscore her thoughts, Aerith realised what she’d just agreed to.

“Shit,” she hissed, burying her face in her hands.

Betting Cloud she wouldn’t fall in love with him, daring herself not to get close. It was kinda like betting on a horse with a broken leg.

She was so, so screwed.

---

Despite what he’d implied during their conversation at the campfire, Cloud didn’t really act any differently around her the day after. Well, maybe there was an extra glance he’d toss her way while they were striking camp, maybe a lingering touch as he helped her up a ledge, maybe a hint of something in his voice when he spoke to her.

Or maybe it was Aerith being hyper aware of him.

For all that he’d laid bare his grievances the night before, she wasn’t really sure about his feelings or his intentions. He’d said it was a matter of principle—that it wasn’t fair of her to put the responsibility of them not becoming involved on him. He’d said the ball was in her court. He’d said he wanted a say in his feelings.

But he hadn’t actually said what his feelings were. Or what he wanted from her, from them. He’d simply rejected her request and issued a challenge, in his usual awkward fashion. Translated: I’m not going to try not falling in love with you. You do that, if you like.

Aerith could do that. Probably. She just had to ignore the burgeoning feelings in her chest. Easy. Those very feelings were totally not the reason she’d tried to engineer an unrequited love situation for herself by pushing Cloud away.

She could do it. No biggie.

Aerith was used to charmers. She knew how to skirt around their words, how not to fall for them. She was a flower seller; she was used to guys coming onto her while she was just trying to make some Gil, she was used to dodging their advances. She’d had Zack Fair. She knew how to handle charmers.

The problem was that Cloud wasn’t one.

Cloud was awkward, and sweet, and earnest, and blunt.

“You good?”

And he was walking right beside her.

“Hm-mm,” she said, linking her hands behind her back. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You, of course.” She winked, relishing in the way he cleared his throat and looked away. How Not To Get Attached 101, one hundred percent foolproof, Aerith-brand pointless flirting.

“Get real,” he muttered, shooting her a small glare. “Or have you lost the game already?”

Okay, maybe just seventy percent foolproof. Aerith giggled. “Nope. Just teasing.”

Cloud rolled his eyes. “You’re always teasing.”

“That’s me.” She winked.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “That’s you alright,” he said, letting a fond note slip into his voice.

Aerith swallowed a knot in her throat and turned away to look ahead.

Cloud wasn’t a charmer. And that was the problem.

---

“You ever feel like life is mocking you?”

Aerith couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Sometimes. Like right now.”

Cloud groaned as they both followed Naomi down the sunny streets of Costa del Sol. She and her friends wanted to see a real couple on a date, Cloud wanted to get paid, and Aerith wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed at Johnny’s and disappear. How was she supposed to keep her distance from Cloud if they kept straight-up dating?

“You don’t get to say that,” he muttered almost absentmindedly.

She winced, but he wasn’t looking at her. He didn’t seem to have noticed he’d said that out loud, so she let it slide, averting her gaze as well and frowning a little bit. For the first time in a while, she couldn’t quite read him. Was he happy about their predicament? Was he annoyed? Embarrassed? A combination of the three?

The girls had called them a couple. Aerith wished it was that simple.

She closed her eyes for a moment. If they were a couple, she could’ve reached out to the side and taken Cloud’s hand in hers, entwining their fingers as they walked. If they were a couple, maybe he’d be complaining about having an audience on their date while a cute blush coloured his cheeks. If they were a couple, she wouldn’t feel like her life was mocking her.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” said Cloud. His eyes were focused on his feet, minding his step.

Aerith swallowed a knot in her throat as she leaned close to him. “Well, you know, there’s no rule book. We can just be ourselves. Have fun just hanging out, y’know? Let ‘em think what they want about us.”

Cloud looked like he was going to argue, a spark of fire flickering in his eyes as he shot her a glance, but the resolve on his face waned just as quickly as it had arrived. Aerith bit her lip. This job was a bad idea.

But… But maybe it’d be fun to pretend, just for a while, that they could be a normal couple. That they could spend an afternoon roaming a charming seaside town together, enjoying each other’s company. Then again, the indulgence was dangerous. If she reached out and took his hand, would she let go when the day ended? Would he?

She sighed. No. Better to stick to her guns. They would have a pleasant time with the activities Naomi and the others had planned for them, and then they’d return to the rest of the group and tell them about their weird job. They’d go back to the hunt for Sephiroth and nothing would change.

Nothing would change, nothing had to change, if nothing changed he’d be safe, it was what the Aerith of the past had wanted, and that Aerith knew better than the Aerith of the present, because the Aerith of the present didn’t know anything except for the burning need to keep Cloud safe, no matter how much it ripped her heart in half, and—

A warm weight slipped into her hand, hesitant but determined. She blinked twice, hard, chasing those frantic thoughts away from her mind. She looked down at the hand holding hers, then slowly back up at Cloud, who was still resolutely facing forward despite the fact that pink dusted his cheeks.

Aerith heard herself make a small questioning noise through the fog in her brain.

Cloud shot her a glance, part plea, part glare, part challenge. “We’re on the clock, aren’t we?”

She nodded slowly, but the words stayed stuck in her throat.

He shrugged, jostling her hand. “Let’s give ‘em what they want, then.” The statement felt loaded, a little bitter, a little teasing. What the girls wanted. What about what Aerith and Cloud wanted?

“Right,” she breathed. She didn’t want to picture how dumb she looked in that moment. She felt sluggish and slow, as if she’d woken up from a deep slumber. But it was just Cloud holding her hand.

His small smile was halfway between relieved and smug, and Aerith idly thought that she kinda wanted to kiss that look off his face. Unfortunately, it would only have made him even more smug and, well, she couldn’t have that on top of losing their stupid little game.

So, she just looked ahead, at Naomi waving them over to the Run Wild stand. If Cloud tightened his hold on her hand just for a fraction of a second, she pretended not to notice.

---

“I thought you’d gone to bed.”

Cloud played a loud, startled chord on the piano as Aerith came up behind him. “Uh,” he said eloquently. “I haven’t.”

“I can tell.”

He winced, his shoulders stiffening.

She paused, biting her lip. She hadn’t expected to run into him just yet. She’d thought she’d have more time to get her feelings sorted. But there he was, in the same small Gongaga hut she’d chosen to find some shade in. It looked to be some sort of community centre, not unlike the one in the Sector 5 undercity, but it was almost empty. Just Aerith, Cloud, and a heavy blanket of unease weighing them both down.

She was supposed to be mad at him, wasn’t she?

Forget about that loser.

Hate to break it to you, but the man is dead.

Horrifically insensitive, to say the least. And very unlike him. Sometimes, it was like there was something bubbling just under his skin, something that had burst out for that one moment. Aerith had no idea why, out of all possible topics, he’d reacted that badly to Zack specifically. Or, rather, she had two ideas that maybe were the same idea, but she hated all of them.

Idea one: it was the degradation, that uncomfortable elephant in the room, that ticking clock threatening to take Cloud away from her—no, take him away from them—at any moment. For as much as they all avoided talking about it, she knew it weighed heavily on everyone, Cloud most of all. Yet, Aerith couldn’t quite shake the feeling that while, yes, something was wrong, it wasn’t degradation. It was something… different. Maybe something worse.

Idea two: it had nothing to do with Zack and everything to do with her. The thought made her stomach churn a little, in ways that she couldn’t quite identify—and she hated herself for that. For the small, selfish part of her that was, maybe, just a little happy at the thought that Cloud could’ve been jealous.

Idea both-of-them: the thought of Aerith and Zack had bothered him, but the intensity of his outburst had been amplified by the thing going on with him, degradation or otherwise.

Aerith hated all of those ideas. But she couldn’t hate him. She couldn’t even be mad.

Cloud cleared his throat, without turning around on the stool. “I, uh…”

She hummed quietly. She shifted her weight on her feet for a moment, considering. Then, slowly, she took the couple of steps needed to close the distance between them and sat down on the stool beside him. Cloud gasped quietly, then hurried to make more room for her.

Aerith took a deep breath. She didn’t look at him, just kept her gaze trained on the sheet music in front of him. It was titled Hollow. “You, uh…?”

She felt him stiffen. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him fiddle with his hands in his lap. “Shouldn’t have said that stuff.”

“No,” she said. “You shouldn’t have.” She frowned. “Why’d you say it?”

There was a long, excruciating beat of silence. “I… don’t know,” he murmured, like he was struggling to get that much sound out of his throat. “I don’t—It just came out.”

Shit. The degradation.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Aerith shook her head. “I’m not upset. Not at you, anyway.”

“You… aren’t?”

“No. Just—” She gestured vaguely with her hand. “I’m upset at things, I guess.”

He shifted slightly to turn back the pages on the sheet music. “Yeah. Me too. That’s why I came here.”

“To play?”

Cloud hummed. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d get my thoughts in order and then come find you but, well…”

Aerith giggled quietly. “But I found you first.”

He shook his head. “Yes and no. You did find me first, but…” He sighed. “Thing is, I can’t get my head on straight.” She finally looked at him. He was frowning deeply, thumbing the edge of the sheet music without really seeing the notes. “I’m trying to find a single thought that makes sense, but there are none. It’s just static.”

Aerith nodded slowly. “Wanna talk about it?”

Cloud lowered his gaze. “No point. I keep asking myself why the hell I said that, but I come up empty.” He furrowed his brows. “I never want to hurt you, no matter how ticked off I get.”

Ah. So their conversation had bothered him.

Damnit. It was idea both-of-them after all. Aerith winced.

Cloud continued, oblivious to her reaction. “I’m not stupid—I know saying shit like that’s gonna upset people. It’s just that sometimes it’s not worth the effort to spare feelings when there are more important things to do.” He shook his head. “But never with you. You’re—” He cut himself off. He sighed, looking back down at his hands. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Wish I could tell you why I said that.”

Aerith bit her lip. Slowly, she reached out and took one of Cloud’s hands in hers. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

Cloud finally looked at her, still frowning. “It’s not. I shouldn’t—”

She shook her head. “Not that. It’s okay if you can’t tell me why you said it.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, then let it drop to his hands again. “I guess.” She could tell that he didn’t really guess, but she didn’t push it. She knew how frustrating it was to find static where information should have been in her mind. It was like that when she tried to remember what the Whispers had taken away.

Cloud sighed again, letting some of the tension leave his shoulders. Not all of it, though. “Can I ask you a question? It’s, uh, related. To—” He made a vague sweeping gesture with his free hand.

Aerith cocked her head to the side. “Shoot.”

“Zack,” he said, wincing a little. “Is he… Is he the reason why…?” He trailed off.

When he didn’t speak again, she frowned. “You’re gonna have to finish that thought, Cloud. I’m not a mind reader.”

He grimaced. “Right. Sorry. Back in Midgar, when you asked me… that.” He was blushing and refusing to meet her eye. Clearly he’d used up all his bravado when he’d quoted her request to her face and turned it back on her.  “Was that because of Zack? Because you still like him?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

He tossed her an odd look. “You don’t think so?”

“I told you. I don’t remember exactly why I asked anymore. But I remember everything about Zack.” She smiled a bit. Hard guy to forget, even after he’d disappeared, even though all in all they hadn’t spent that much time together.

She felt Cloud stiffen, and he delicately pulled his hand from hers. “I—sorry.”

Aerith furrowed her brows. “Why are you sorry?”

He winced. “I’ve been pushy. And unfair. Sorry. I won’t get in the way, I promise.” He sounded a little strangled, like it pained him to say those words out loud.

Almost in spite of herself, Aerith half-laughed. “In the way? Of me and a guy who disappeared on me five years ago?”

Cloud stared at her for a moment. “But you said—”

Aerith sighed. “It’s complicated, okay? I liked him, but then he just… vanished. I never got any closure.” She closed her eyes. “But… Cloud, our situation is complicated too.”

“Aerith, seriously, if you still—”

“That’s not it.” She didn’t know why she wasn’t taking the easy way out, why she didn’t just let him believe she still liked Zack. Maybe it was because, in spite of everything, she hated lying to him. Or maybe it was just selfishness. “Zack’s got nothing to do with you and me.” She gave his shoulder a light nudge. “Promise.”

Cloud shot her a glance. “But you’re still playing your little game.”

She half-laughed. “Your little game. And yes. Still in it.”

His shoulders slumped a bit, a mix of releasing tension and sagging dejectedly. “Getting mixed signals here.”

“I thought I was very clear in Midgar,” she said, shrugging. “You’re the one who decided not to listen to me.”

“I still think you were unfair to dump that on me.” He was pouting a little, now. Cute.

Aerith stuck her tongue out at him. “Well, you dumped it right back on me, didn’t you?”

“It takes two,” he said, without meeting her eyes.

She hummed. “It takes two.”

A moment of silence fell over the two of them. It was almost comfortable now, only slightly weighed down by the uncertainty and the stupid, stupid games they were playing. Aerith just had to keep telling herself it was better like that. She was already too close to the edge of the precipice; she couldn’t keep dancing on it. She would fall, and take Cloud right down with her. He didn’t deserve it.

He pressed his lips together, then opened his mouth to say something, and Aerith knew she had to stop him.

“I know how you can make it up to me,” she said, straightening up. “For what you said.”

Cloud blinked at her. “I thought you weren’t mad.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I am a little. But I know how you can make it up to me.” She leaned forward and tapped the sheet music. “Play me something.”

“Oh.” He looked down at the piano keys like he was seeing them for the first time. “I’m, uh… really not that good.”

Aerith clicked her tongue. “I’ll be the judge of that. C’mon, I wanna hear! I’ve heard Tifa play, it’s only fair. I have to figure out who’s better.”

There was a spark of competitiveness in his eyes, but he quickly looked away. “…Probably her,” he said, slowly like it took a toll on him to admit he wasn’t the best at something.

“Won’t know until you play. Chop chop, music man.” She grinned.

Cloud let out a breath of a laugh, then gingerly laid his hands atop the keys. As he started to play, Aerith closed her eyes and sighed.

The song was nice, slow and melancholy. He would stumble on the keys, every once in a while, and then he would play the next notes a little too loud to compensate. It wasn’t perfect, and Tifa was better, but it was still nice.

And, best of all, the music filled the air between them so that no unwelcome thoughts or words could get through. Inside the music, there was quiet and peace.

---

Aerith hadn’t known that you could see stars before the sunset.

She sucked in an excited gasp of crisp Cosmo Canyon air as she looked up at the celestial  phenomenon, clasping her hands in front of her. Cloud had told her about the bright evening star that appeared in the Nibelheim sky before all the others, before the sun had even set, but seeing stars in the violet early evening of the Canyon was still magical.

“How are you still surprised by this?” chuckled Cloud, holding the celestiograph up to his face. Well, that was what Caesar had called it, but all it was was a fancy camera. Cloud was surprisingly good with it, and was quietly proud of himself in a way that was very different from his smugness when it came to physical feats of strength or agility, but no less endearing.

Aerith huffed. “How are you not?”

He shrugged. “I thought the other one was cooler.”

“You just can’t appreciate beauty in life and nature.”

He snorted, but didn’t reply.

Aerith walked a few steps away from him, closer to the stars—infinitesimally so. She’d always known that the light fixtures in the underside of the Plate in Midgar were a sorry imitation of the real things, but she only really realised that now. The sky, the stars made her feel so small and young compared to the rest of the universe around her. A wave of emotion hit her, and she couldn’t tell which part was hers and which was the Planet’s. She brought her trembling hands together in front of her, and she closed her eyes in a silent prayer.

A quiet click came from behind her.

She straightened up. Cloud was finally satisfied with his shot composition, then. She turned around, only to find that he wasn’t looking at the sky. Both his gaze and the camera were fixed on her.

He froze like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar, and the camera chose that moment to slowly spit out the picture. She shot him a perplexed smile. He returned it, hesitant but fond. Then, again, click. Aerith giggled, shaking her head—click.

“Cloud, c’mon,” she said, half-laughing and half-scolding. “What’re you doing?”

Instead of answering, Cloud just hit the shutter button again. And again, and again, click-click-click until Aerith walked up to him and snatched the camera from his hands, with the string of printouts trailing after it. Still giggling, she held it out of his reach, knowing full well how easy it would’ve been for him to just steal it back even as he made a half-hearted attempt. “Had your fun?”

Cloud chuckled. “Yeah,” he said. “Think so.”

“Why’d you do that?” she asked, stepping away from him and taking the camera with her.

He shrugged. “Dunno. Felt like it.”

She hummed. The line burned on the tip of her tongue. Why did I do that? I was appreciating beauty. If Cloud had been a little more like her or like Zack, he would have said it. But he wasn’t. She wondered whether he’d thought of it and just chickened out, or if it hadn’t even crossed his mind. After all, it was right there. But she couldn’t quite picture him saying something that cheesy and flirty with a straight face. It just wasn’t his style. He probably thought little comments like that were insincere, empty.

Aerith smiled, remembering Costa del Sol.

They ’re just thoughts. Let ‘em be dark and ugly. You’re not. Whatever you decide, I’m with you.

Cloud didn’t do insincere. He wasn’t a charmer or a flirt. He was just himself.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, taking a couple of steps towards her.

Aerith shook her head. “Nothing, nothing.”

He held out a hand. “Can I have that back? We still got a job to do.”

“Not yet,” she said, hiding the camera behind her back with a smile. “You know, it’s not really fair.”

“What is?”

Aerith rocked on the balls of her feet. “Well, you have all these pictures of me and I have none of you.” She delicately detached the string of printouts and handed it to him.

Cloud took it, but he stiffened a little bit and scratched the back of his neck, looking away. “You, uh, want a picture of me?”

“I want a picture of us. Let’s take a selfie together,” she said, holding up the camera as she hopped to his side.

Cloud just nodded as she pressed herself even closer to him, delicately taking his arm. She shot him a smile, then looked back to the camera. Click. Cloud stilled for a moment.

Giggling, she lowered the camera to take a look at the picture. “Aww, we look—” She cut herself off when she saw it. In the photo, Aerith was slightly dishevelled from the wind, but she was smiling happily at the camera as she leaned towards Cloud. But Cloud… He was turned towards her, with soft eyes and a half smile, fond and thoughtful. She pressed her lips together as she thumbed the edge of the picture. He looked at her like he was looking at a painting, or a sunrise, or the starry night sky. He looked at her like he—

Aerith blinked twice, hard. She wondered if that was how he always looked at her when she wasn’t paying attention.

Cloud cleared his throat. “Ah, sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I ruined it.”

But Aerith slowly shook her head. “No, no. It’s perfect,” she said. She took the printout and held it up to her chest. “Perfect.”

He turned to her, silent for a long beat. His expression was indecipherable, but at the same time he looked the way Aerith felt: uncertain, balancing on the edge of their dumb precipice. Or maybe he was waiting for her at the bottom, wondering if she would ever take that step. And she wanted to, she wanted to join him so badly.

But she couldn’t.

“Aerith…” he whispered, a plea.

She closed her eyes and turned away. “Let’s just take the picture and go,” she said. Her voice was steady, at least.

“Aerith,” he repeated a little louder, but still strained. She heard him take a hesitant step forward.

“Don’t,” she said. “Just—please, don’t.” She bit her lip, willing her heart to slow down.

“Why?”

She stilled, sucking in a sharp breath. Ah, there it was—the well-placed why used as a weapon. She’d have been proud if she didn’t feel so damn sad.

“It’s better this way,” she said. “Trust me.”

“You don’t know that,” said Cloud, frustrated. He circled around her to try and catch her eye, but she turned her face away. “Maybe you used to, but you don’t know anymore. You said it yourself.”

Aerith pressed her lips together. “Things don’t stop being true because we don’t remember them anymore.”

He crossed his arms. “But what if they were never true? What if they changed?”

She shook her head. “I’m not risking that.” I’m not risking you. “Know what hasn’t changed? Me wanting to protect you.” She attempted a smile. “And me not losing our game.” If the conditions of the game required her admitting it out loud, anyway.

Cloud regarded her for a long moment, then sighed. “I hate this game.”

She snuck a glance at him. He didn’t look all that upset—more mildly exasperated. Aerith smiled hesitantly. “It was your idea.”

“Never claimed it was a good one.”

“Well, you’re stuck with it, mister.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re stuck with it. You’re the one playing.”

Cloud was not subtle when he wanted to throw a jab at her about something. Still, Aerith let it slide. “C’mon,” she said, handing him the camera back. “Let’s finish the job.”

As he pointed the camera at the stars again, she delicately tucked their selfie into her jacket pocket, next to her heart.

---

When Aerith opened the door to her room at the Nidhogg Inn to find Cloud standing in front of her, she wasn’t all that surprised. He’d been on edge around her for a few days, always fidgeting and hesitant. Sometimes, she’d catch him just… looking at her, studying her like she was going to vanish at any moment. It was clear that he needed to talk to her. Aerith just hoped it wouldn’t be a confession of some sort. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep pretending.

“It’s kind of late,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “Something wrong?”

Cloud pressed his lips together. “Can we talk? Alone?” He shot a glance over her shoulder, to the room where Tifa and Yuffie were still asleep.

She nodded as she stepped out of the doorway. “Lucky I was the one who answered, huh?” she said with a small smile.

Cloud didn’t return it—just shot her that same long look she’d noticed in the days prior. “Let’s go,” he said. He made a jerky movement as if he’d wanted to take her by the hand and then thought better of it. Instead, he motioned for her to follow him.

Aerith hummed as he turned around and made for the stairs. He led her out of the inn, in the chilly Nibelheim night. She rubbed her hands over her bare arms. “This better be good,” she chuckled.

“Dunno about good,” he said, shooting her an apologetic glance. “But it’s important.”

She nodded. Cloud paused for a second, as if considering where to take her, then he gestured to the water tower. “C’mon.”

They climbed the ladder in silence, then sat side by side in the same spots they’d been in just hours before. It was slightly less cold up there, and Aerith realised there was some sort of machine behind them, buzzing quietly and emitting a bit of warmth.

Cloud caught her perplexed look and shrugged. “It’s the same as when I was a kid. This thing’s responsible for all the water in the village, and it overheats like crazy. Weird that it hasn’t changed.” He looked away. “Didn’t think to bring a blanket, so I figured this was the next best thing.”

Aerith smiled a bit. “It is. Thanks.”

He hummed, but didn’t say anything else.

She let a few moments pass in silence. Then, she sighed. “You know, if you just wanted some company, I don’t think you’d have taken us all the way up here. Out of earshot of everyone else.” She lightly kicked her heels together. “So, what is it?”

Cloud stiffened. “Right.” He took a deep breath, and Aerith braced herself. “I, uh, I talked to Red—Nanaki.”

She blinked at him. Not what she was expecting. “Okay?” she said. “What’d you talk about?”

He fiddled with his hands in his lap. “He asked me not to say anything, but it’s too important—a-and I guess you already know about it anyway. Besides, it’s about you, and—”

“Cloud.” She put a hand on his arm, forcing him to look at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Start over?”

“Uh, sorry.” He winced. “He said… He said that you two could see the future, back in Midgar. Before the Whispers,” he muttered. “Is that true?”

She grimaced and looked away. Why, Nanaki? “True enough,” she replied. “But I couldn’t tell you what I saw now.”

Cloud nodded. “That’s what Nanaki said too. Said that you lost that knowledge.”

“That’s right.”

“Is that why you didn’t want me to lo—like you?”

Aerith drew in a sharp breath. His words were soft, but measured, careful. He had to have rehearsed them all in those moments where he’d looked like he wanted to talk to her. She couldn’t face him.

When she didn’t reply, he continued, “Because you saw something in our future?”

Slowly, she nodded. “…Yeah.” She felt him still. “But I don’t know what it was. I told you before.”

“You have.” Cloud sighed. “Nanaki said that… He said that he thinks you’re in danger.”

Aerith kept her eyes trained on the dark silhouette of the house in front of her. “He did, did he?”

“Please don’t play dumb.” There was a strained note in his voice, now. A desperate note.

“I’m not,” she said, biting her lip. “I told you, I can’t remember. But we’re all in danger, aren’t we?”

Cloud scoffed. “You know what I mean.” He let another long moment of silence pass. “Listen… Whatever it was, we changed it, right? The Whispers—”

She shook her head. “Maybe. I don’t know. We’ve been over this, Cloud, I’m not risking it. I had a good reason for asking you that, even though I don’t remember it anymore. And now you know why.”

“What about—” He cut himself off with a frustrated noise, pulling up a leg to his chest. “So that’s how it is. You make all the decisions and I just have to follow ‘em.”

Aerith frowned. “That’s not fair.”

“No. It’s not.”

Silence fell again. Aerith fiddled with her hands in her lap. Cloud was upset, frustrated, angry even. She didn’t know how to make it better without making it infinitely worse. Without putting him even more at risk. Maybe it was better this way—the anger would be temporary, whereas whatever was waiting for him in the future she’d forgotten was a permanent scar, a pain that would never leave him.

“Hey,” he started suddenly. “If you could see the future back then… Does that mean you knew I was going to…?” He gestured vaguely between the two of them instead of finishing his question, but Aerith didn’t need him to.

Did you know I was going to fall in love with you? Were we always doomed? Was there ever a chance?

She sighed. “Dunno. Maybe that’s the future we averted.” She attempted a small smile. She didn’t even believe her own words.

And Cloud didn’t either, judging from his scoff. “Aerith.”

“What?”

“C’mon.” He looked away and whispered, so quiet that she almost missed it, “It was inevitable.”

Aerith clenched her hands on the edge of the platform. Hearing him say that should have filled her with joy. Yet, all she could feel was regret, dread, and fear. “I didn’t think you believed in fate,” she said shakily.

He tossed her a sidelong glance, then shook his head. “I don’t. Fate’s got nothing to do with it.” He took a deep breath. “It’s because of who you are and who I am.” His voice was trembling just a little.

Aerith pressed her lips together, feeling her eyes starting to sting. She knew how hard it was for him to be vulnerable like that, to lay his feelings bare and risk getting hurt for it. And she hated herself because she had to do just that—hurt him.

“Cloud—”

He shook his head. “Don’t you get it, Aerith? I can’t let anything happen to you—I won’t.” He looked at her, defiant and determined. “I promised Nanaki, and I’m promising you. I’ll keep you safe. No matter what happens, no matter what you say.”

Aerith stared at him, tears in her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him, to hold him close, to apologise, to kiss him until all the hurt and all the fear were forgotten. But she was terrified. It was all so much, too much. She was just glad he’d never said the word love.

“Cloud,” she whispered, desperately trying to hold back the tears. “Cloud, please—”

Emboldened by her reaction, he reached out and gently touched her cheek. “It’s real. So real that it feels like I’m drowning.” He sounded like it too, quiet and strangled and tender.

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, pulling her face away from his hand. “Cloud, I—please, don’t do this,” she whispered.

Cloud retracted his hand like he’d been burned. “I—I’m not doing anything,” he said. “I told you before. If—If you don’t feel—if it’s just me, then that’s fine. But you said that it wouldn’t be real, and you’re wrong.”

She knew. She’d always been wrong. But she couldn’t afford to be right.

Aerith shook her head again. “Cloud, what do you want me to say?”

He made another frustrated noise. “I want you to stop lying to me, I guess. Be a nice start.”

“I… I’ve never lied to you,” she said in a sigh. “Wish I had, honestly. I could’ve told you I was still in love with Zack, and we wouldn’t be here right now. But there are questions I just can’t answer.”

Cloud shot her a glance. “Because…?”

“Because I’d tell you the truth,” said Aerith. “And it’d put you in danger.”

He leaned a bit closer. “I can take care of myself. What if I was okay with that?”

“I’m not.” She bit her lip. “I’m just not.”

It was hard to breathe. She stood up suddenly, leaning a bit on the water tower so she wouldn’t lose her balance.

“Aerith?” Cloud shot to his feet as well, holding out his hands as if he wanted to steady her.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m going back.”

Cloud looked torn for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, or do something. But in the end he just nodded stiffly. “Right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

She turned around, unable to look him in the eye any longer. They made their way back to the inn in uncomfortable silence, with Cloud walking just slightly behind Aerith. Once they got to her room, she stilled with her hand hovering over the doorknob, and Cloud stopped as well.

“Aerith?” he called softly.

She shook her head and took a deep breath before turning around. “I’m sorry, Cloud,” she whispered. “I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry.” She let her gaze fall to her feet and pressed her lips together.

Cloud didn’t say anything right away. Aerith saw him shift his weight from one foot to the other, then he took a hesitant step forward. Gingerly, his arms came around her shoulders as he pulled her into a gentle hug. Aerith swallowed back a sob as she brought her hands to his waist, not quite hugging back but not pushing him away either.

“I wish I could do something to help,” he whispered in her hair. “You’re hurting too. I wanna make it go away, but… But you won’t let me.”

She shook her head, but didn’t reply. They stayed together like that for a long moment, both unwilling to be the one to either step away or bring them closer.

Aerith felt his lips brushing against her hair again. “Aerith,” he murmured. “It’s real.”

She tightened her grip on his waist, just barely, just for a moment. “I know,” she replied. “I’m sorry.”

---

Cloud hadn’t taken his eyes off her for a second, not since she’d appeared on the virtual stage of the Gold Theatre, clad in white and ready to sing. She’d felt his gaze burn like it was the sun looking at her, following her every movement, listening to her every word. And it was just as well, she figured, since it was all for him.

Aerith couldn’t give Cloud all that he wanted, but she could give him something at least. A song, a moment, a memory.

A date.

She hadn’t called it that, of course. It was just a friendly outing between friends who were friendly. She was kinda glad, actually, that the rest of their companions had also come to the showing of Loveless. Granted, they were sitting apart from Aerith and Cloud, but it helped dilute the tension. If Aerith concentrated enough, it almost felt like the two of them were just part of the group, even if a little physically far.

And if she concentrated further still, she could almost make out the voices in the Lifestream laughing at her in the back of her head. Did it still count as denial if she was self-aware about it?

Cloud linked back up with her at the exit of the theatre, after all of their friends had already left the premises. Aerith waved at him with a small smile, and he returned both.

“So!” she exclaimed, bouncing up to him. “What d’you think?”

"I think you were amazing,” he said, sounding a little dazed. “You write that song?”

Aerith hummed. “Just wanted to try my hand at it.”

He half-laughed. “Right. And now you’re gonna have producers at your doorstep.”

“Well, sadly I don’t have one of those right now.”

“A doorstep?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your mom’s place?”

Aerith giggled. “She’s gonna chase ‘em off with a broom.”

They laughed, then she smiled at him. “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.”

He nodded slowly, then averted his gaze. Silence fell, but it was soon interrupted by the loudspeaker: “Attention, all park guests. The Skywheel will be closing soon. Don’t miss out on your chance to experience the Gold Saucer from a truly breathtaking angle!”

Oh, the Skywheel. Aerith thought vaguely that she and Cloud had never gotten to go during their first visit to the park. Things between them were still complicated, but maybe back then she could have played it off as more of a casual date. She couldn’t do that anymore: they were both in too deep and her self control was the last thin line of defence against disaster.

But she really had to stop assuming she was the only one making decisions.

Cloud, next to her, cleared his throat. “Let’s go.”

“Hm?” She turned to look at him. “Where?”

He nodded towards Event Square’s exit. “Skywheel. I wanna see what all the fuss is about. Besides, uh, we got unfinished business.” He scratched the back of his head without looking at her, but she could still see that the tips of his ears had turned pink.

Aerith felt herself soften. “Unfinished business, huh?” she said quietly.

Cloud hummed awkwardly.

She thought for a moment. There was something else she could give him. A little bit of closure wherever she could.

“Okay,” said Aerith. “Let’s go.”

He snapped back to her, as if he hadn’t expected her to give in without a fight. “Uh, yeah. Let’s.”

On the way to Skywheel square, they were quiet, but Aerith didn’t mind the silence. The air between them was charged, though, even more than usual. Maybe it was the way Cloud kept sneaking quick glances at Aerith, maybe it was the way she kept catching him because she was doing the same. More than once, she found herself desperately wanting to reach for his hand, wanting to hold him. Wanting, wanting, she wanted so much. And knowing he wanted the same things was agonising.

The crowds around them were loud and rowdy, excited, normal. More than anything, Aerith wanted to be normal. Just for a little while, she wanted to be a normal girl on a date with a boy she liked and who liked her. Was that really so wrong?

She sighed deeply.

Then, slowly, deliberately, she reached out and slipped her hand in Cloud’s. He jumped a little, startled, and turned to her, eyes wide as saucers. He didn’t pull away, though. “Aerith?”

“Just for tonight,” she heard herself whisper. “Okay?”

Emotions flashed over his face in fast succession: joy, disappointment, pain, anger, acceptance. He closed his eyes and looked to be counting to ten. “If that’s what you want,” he said. The hurt note in his voice was impossible to miss, but Aerith ignored it all the same.

It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was the best she could do. One Skywheel ride, one night, one date to get it all out of her system, and then they could go back to the way they were without having to wonder anymore. Or, at least, she prayed it would happen like that.

She smiled a bit, and he returned it, then she lightly pulled on his hand. “C’mon,” she said. “This way.”

The loudspeaker in Skywheel Square was still giving out the announcement about the ride closing soon, with an attendant eagerly waving excited guests closer. Aerith and Cloud joined the queue, but they didn’t have to wait long for their turn. Aerith hopped into the spacious cabin first, giggling at the spectacle of lights already visible from the windows. A quiet thump behind her told her that Cloud was on board too, and she turned to grin at him. He sat down first on one side of the cabin and, after some consideration, Aerith settled a fair distance from him—not far enough to be awkward, not close enough to be intimate.

As their cabin slowly began its climb upwards, Aerith’s attention was pulled outside the window. The fireworks show was starting.

“Wow, look at that!” she exclaimed.

The sky was an explosion of colours, mixing together in beautiful shapes all around them. She couldn’t see the stars in the sky, replaced by the light of the fireworks. Below and all around them, the rest of the Gold Saucer’s attractions and events were in full swing, from the roller coasters to the Chocobo races to the flash mob in the Terminal Square. It was loud and chaotic and frenetic. And yet, inside the Skywheel cabin, all was quiet and intimate.

Aerith glanced back at Cloud, only to catch him looking at her the way he had back in Cosmo Canyon, the way that was forever immortalised in the picture Aerith kept carefully tucked in her jacket pocket. She bit her lip.

“I know I’ve been weird,” she said, quietly. “And a little unfair.”

Cloud shook himself out of his reverie and raised an eyebrow. “A little?”

She half-laughed and stuck her tongue out at him. “It hasn’t exactly been easy for me, either.” She frowned. “You know… when we first met, there was something about you that really bothered me.”

He furrowed his brows. “Hey,” he said softly, without any real animosity. “I know I was kind of a dick, but—”

Aerith giggled. “Not that. Although…” She winked and he rolled his eyes, then she shook her head. “No, it was something else. It was in the way you talked, the way you carried yourself… I haven’t seen him in five years, but suddenly there was you, and if I wasn’t careful I’d start thinking he was there, wearing your clothes and your face.”

Cloud nodded slowly. “Zack?”

She hummed. “But he wasn’t. It’s always just been you. You, running around the slums with me. You, saving me from Shinra HQ. You, here with me right now.” Aerith sighed and leaned back into her seat. “You’re different, and things are different, and that’s okay.”

“Aerith—”

“But… there’s still so much I don’t know,” she continued. “So much that’s fuzzy and unclear.”

The degradation, her stolen memories, Sephiroth looming over it all. It felt so much bigger than her.

She stood up. Cloud’s eyes were on her, she could feel them, but she couldn’t meet them. “The thing is, Cloud… I’m trying so hard to find you.” The words were just flowing out of her now, as if someone else was speaking through her. Cloud was Cloud, he was right there, but he wasn’t, and—

He echoed her thoughts: “But I’m right here.” He blinked twice at her.

Aerith sighed. “I know, but…”

He let a long, uncomfortable beat pass. “Degradation, right?” he asked, quietly.

She froze. She turned around. He’d stood up as well without her noticing, and he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, arms crossed and eyes planted on the fireworks show outside without really seeing it.

“…No,” she heard herself say. “Not degradation.” As she said it, she knew it was true. There was something else keeping him from her. But she couldn’t begin to guess.

Cloud took a tentative step towards her. “Then what?” he asked, maybe a little sharper than he’d meant to.

She flinched, and it seemed like the cabin flinched with her. The floor disappeared from under her feet, and she tumbled forward. Instinctively, she put her arms up to brace herself for the collision with the seat or the floor, but the only thing she hit was something warm and solid. Aerith blinked up at Cloud, as dazed as he looked. Maybe he’d caught her, maybe they’d just crashed into each other. Either way, she was gathered into his arms, feeling his pulse quicken under her fingertips in tandem with hers. He swallowed thickly as he looked down at her.

“I, uh, I think one of those solid holograms hit us,” he muttered.

“Oh,” she said. “Scary.”

“You’re okay. I got you.”

It was her turn to gulp down a knot in her throat. Cloud didn’t take his eyes away from hers, and they were so intense that they were burning.

“If it’s not the degradation, then what is it?” he asked quietly, not letting her go. “You said you want to find me—help me make that happen. I… I want you to find me. Just tell me how to let you.”

Aerith just stared at him, her mouth hanging slightly open. “Cloud…” she whispered. “I—I don’t know. I—”

The moment dragged on for a few tense, electric seconds.

A burst of fireworks exploded with a loud bang, and the sound cut between them like a knife. Aerith jumped out of his arms with a gasp as her world once again expanded to contain things other than Cloud Strife. “Woah,” she said, pressing a hand on her heart. “Is it just me, or was that way closer than the others?”

Cloud shook his head. “Uh… Oh, we’re just getting close to the top, I think.”

A glance out of the window told her that he was right. “I see,” she said, sitting back down. “This is safe, right?”

Cloud shrugged as he sat down too—again, just far enough from her as to not be intimate, the moment from before gone like a mirage. “It’s fine,” he said. “Not that Shinra gives a shit about people’s safety, but if this thing were dangerous, nobody would wanna set foot on it. Huge loss of profit.”

Aerith giggled and leaned back in her seat. “Reassuring. Kinda.” She sighed. “Well, we’ll just have to enjoy the show, then.”

He hummed, then turned back to the fireworks. Aerith studied him for a second. The moment was gone, but not forgotten. He still had a crease of worry between his brows, and her hands itched to reach out to smooth it over.

She bit her lip. Slowly, hesitantly, she scooted closer to him. “Forget about what I said, okay?” she whispered. “Let’s not worry about that. Not tonight.”

Cloud tossed her a sidelong look. “Forget about it?” He huffed a little. “You say the strangest stuff, and I’m just supposed to forget about it?”

“Yup,” she said, popping the p and forcing a playful grin on her face. “You know me. I don’t always make sense.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, doubt clearly painted on his face. Then, he sighed and turned away. “Fine,” he said, dropping his eyes to the floor. He still looked unsteady, though, and like he wanted to ask a million questions. That wasn’t a look she wanted on his face—not now, amongst the fireworks in the sky.

Aerith only hesitated for one more moment. In one swift motion, she closed the rest of the distance between them and took his arm in her hands, leaning her head on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen in surprise under her touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“Aerith?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Just for tonight,” she said. “Okay?”

Cloud didn’t reply, but neither did he relax. Then, just as Aerith was about to let him go, he slowly moved. Delicately, he took one of her hands from his arm.

Aerith frowned a little, but sat up straighter. That was fair. She couldn’t keep expecting him to humour all her mixed signals—to be okay with her constantly pushing him away while she held him tight. She opened her mouth, an apology ready on her tongue, but Cloud laid her hand down, palm up, between them. A fraction of a second, and his own covered it, threading his fingers through hers.

She gasped quietly and looked up at him. He was still turned away from her, but when he felt her eyes on him, he shot her a sidelong glance. Red dusted his cheekbones and the tips of his ears, but his eyes were focused, daring, challenging. And they were an open book.

Not just for tonight. It takes two, right? I ’m in if you are.

Aerith couldn’t help but smile up at him a little shakily, feeling as if her heart was going to jump out of her chest. She looked at her bodyguard, at her friend, at the man she loved. There he went, fighting for her again, and again. It took her everything she had not to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him silly, to apologise for everything she’d put the both of them through. But in that moment, just being there with him, holding his hand, would have to be enough. As she closed her own fingers around his, Cloud finally relaxed next to her, and gave her hand a light squeeze. Aerith let her head fall against his shoulder again and closed her eyes.

“Just for tonight,” she repeated softly.

This close, she could feel Cloud’s sigh hit the crown of her head, a veneer of calm betrayed by the pounding of his heart, impossible to miss from where she was leaning against him. Aerith wondered if he was looking at her, but didn’t check. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if she met his eyes and found love and longing there.

She settled for looking at the fireworks again, holding his hand just a little bit tighter.

Five minutes later, as they stepped out of the cabin, Cloud extended a hand to help Aerith down. She took it with a small giggle, and ignored the way he held onto her for just a moment too long with practised cheerfulness.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said, locking her hands behind her back. “I had fun.”

Cloud hummed. “Me too.”

She glanced at the dwindling crowd in the square in front of them. “Ready for tomorrow?”

“Course. You?”

“Born ready!” She flexed playfully, drawing a chuckle out of him. “We should go get some shut-eye. Gotta be in tip-top shape to kick Corneo’s goons’ butts.”

“Right. Let’s go.”

Cloud went ahead, and Aerith followed him after just a moment. He seemed a little distracted, as if he had something else on his mind. She shook her head. Probably thinking about their strategy for the battle the next day. She supposed the real anomaly was Cloud thinking about something other than their mission for a whole evening.

The walk back to the Haunted Hotel was a silent one, but not uncomfortably so. There was no hurry in their step, as if neither of them quite wanted the night to end. That late, the park wasn’t as busy or loud. It felt more normal, more like a real place with real people rather than an endless party. Aerith kept glancing at Cloud, feeling a small smile playing on her lips.

One night, one perfect night with him. It would have to be enough. It would be enough. No harm in wanting to draw it out as long as she could.

But there was still a limit to how much she could dig her heels in, to how slowly they could walk. In the end, they stepped out of the lift and onto their floor.

Aerith sighed, hopping ahead of Cloud. “Well—”

“I’ll walk you to your room,” he said, coming up beside her.

She shot him a bemused smile. “Isn’t it, like… ten metres away from yours?”

Cloud cleared his throat, looking away with a faint blush on his face. “Still.”

Aerith giggled. “Alright, then, Mr Bodyguard.” She took his elbow. “Do the gentlemanly thing.”

To her absolute delight, he actually held up his arm a little higher as he gently tugged her forward. As promised, they walked right past the boys’ suite, and stopped just two doors over. Aerith let go of Cloud’s arm to rummage in her pockets for the room key. She didn’t want to wake Tifa and Yuffie up.

As she finally fished it out, she turned with a grin. “Looks like we’re here,” she said. “Thanks for the escort.”

Cloud nodded slowly. He was still blushing and refusing to meet her eye. Aerith cocked her head to the side. “What is it?” she said, leaning forward to try to catch his gaze.

“Uh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I—If this really has to be just for tonight… There’s something I wanna do before tonight ends,” he said quickly, snapping his eyes back to hers.

Aerith blinked twice at him. “Oh?” she said.

He didn’t say anything right away. He gingerly took a step forward and took her hand in his, while his other hand hesitantly rose to brush over her cheek. Every move was slow and deliberate, like he was giving her the time and space to stop him or step away. But Aerith was rooted to the spot, frozen by his touch and what he was asking. She felt her eyes go wide, and she knew she had to say something. But when her mouth fell open, no words came out.

A little bolder and surer of himself, Cloud tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, a gesture so tender and gentle that Aerith felt a bit like bursting into tears. He pressed his lips together and swallowed thickly. “Can—Can I…?”

A stronger person might have said no. A stronger person might never had let them get to this point at all. But all Aerith could do was nod.

A flash of disbelief passed over his face, as if he’d still expected her to say no. Then he furrowed his brows and leaned closer to her until their lips were a breath apart—hesitant until the very last second, like she was going to break or disappear.

“Cloud?” she whispered.

He blinked and shook his head a little, as if coming out of a trance. Then, all at once, the hand on her cheek slid to the back of her head as he nudged her towards him to finally close the hint of distance between them.

Cloud’s kiss was just like him: gentle, nervous, but determined and a bit rough. Aerith felt her room key slip from her hand as she wrapped both her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back. Cloud’s other hand, the one not cradling the back of her head, went to her waist, pulling her even closer.

Aerith knew full well that this was a huge mistake, that she was throwing all her efforts to protect him down the drain. She supposed they would be in good company with her self-control. Because, damnit, she’d wanted to kiss Cloud for so long, and now that she was doing it she wasn’t sure she’d ever stop.

He broke away for a moment, but didn’t go far. “Aerith,” he murmured on her lips. “I—”

“Shh.” She closed the gap again. He seemed to have no objections to that, because his grip on her waist tightened as he pulled her even closer.

Cloud kissed her like he wanted to tell her something. It’s real, Aerith, it’s real, please, don’t let it be just for tonight, I’m tired of games and secrets, I love you, I love you, I love you.

And Aerith kissed him like she wanted to answer. It’s real for me too, I don’t want this to be just for tonight either, I’d lost our stupid game before we even started playing it, I love you, I love you, I love you.

She could feel the pounding of his heart almost as if it was coming from inside her chest, and she wondered if he could feel hers the same way. She smiled over his lips, and he just kissed her harder, while his hand at her waist shifted to rub gentle circles on her back. Aerith pulled him even closer, trying to commit everything about him to memory. His warmth, his taste, his scent, the way his hair felt threaded through her fingers—just him, just Cloud.

Down in the lobby of the Haunted Hotel, the grandfather clock chimed—midnight. And, just like in a fairy tale, it broke the spell.

Aerith froze with her hands tangled in Cloud’s hair as she returned to reality. The reality where they couldn’t be a normal couple sharing a good-night kiss after a date, where they weren’t supposed to be in love at all, where Aerith had to be the one to know better, despite how much it hurt.

Cloud pulled away from her. “Aerith…?” he called, voice a little hoarse. His whole face was flushed crimson, and his pupils were blown wide. His hair was even messier than usual and his mouth was hanging open, huffing a little through kiss-swollen lips. He looked stunning, and she’d done that to him.

Aerith screwed her eyes shut, willing that image to disappear from her brain. “It’s tomorrow,” she whispered, fighting to keep her voice even.

She felt him stiffen in her arms. When she looked at him again, it was like something had cracked in his expression. He stared at her like she’d just stabbed him, shock and hurt clear as day. She wished she hadn’t looked. “I’m sorry,” she said, slipping out of his grasp.

Cloud let her, and his arms fell limply to his sides. “Aerith, I—” He pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry,” he muttered then, averting his gaze.

Aerith shook her head. “Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She fought the urge to cup his cheek in her hand, settling instead for a quick pat on his upper arm. “Good-night.”

Quickly, she picked up her room key and unlocked the door. As she slipped through, she looked at him again. He hadn’t moved from his spot, and he still had his eyes fixed on the floor.

Aerith forced a smile. “Hey, chin up,” she said. “Gotta be in tip-top shape tomorrow, right? Better get some rest.”

Cloud blinked twice as he met her gaze again, then frowned. “Right,” he spat out, bitter and hurt. Aerith winced. He seemed to notice, and something in his face softened. “Right,” he repeated, gentler but no less upset. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Good-night, Cloud.”

“Night.”

If she looked into those big, sad eyes of his any longer, she knew she would have jumped right back into his arms, so Aerith quickly shut the door between them. With a sigh, she leaned her head against it and closed her eyes.

She hated herself.

And she hated fate, and the Whispers, and the Aerith of the past who was calling all the shots for the Aerith of the present, and her stupid, stupid feelings pulling her in every direction at once. More than anything, she hated the hurt darkening Cloud’s face, the bitterness in his voice, and she hated that she was the cause of all of it.

She felt like crying, but she didn’t deserve to.

After what felt like an eternity, muffled footsteps came from the other side of the door, and it occurred to her that she hadn’t heard Cloud walking away after she’d closed it. She gulped down a sob at the thought that he might have been standing there that whole time, alone in the hallway, maybe hoping she’d come back.

“I love you,” she whispered, barely loud enough for even her to hear. The words tasted bittersweet on her tongue: sweet, because they were true and beautiful; bitter, because she was saying them to a closed door.

---

Aerith was sure that the owner of the bar was going to kick her out any minute now. She just hoped that her half empty glass of foul bottom shelf… whatever would be enough to convince him that she still counted as a customer, rather than an anxious little thing hiding away at his counter far too late in the night.

No. Half full. Her glass was half full. It had to be, because then everything would be fine at the Temple and they’d get the Black Materia back and they’d all be okay and—

“That any good?” came  Cloud’s voice, soft behind her.

She straightened up, then shook her head. “No,” she said, not particularly caring if the owner heard her. She still pushed the glass towards Cloud as he sat down on the stool next to hers. “But you can try it, if you want.”

“I’ll pass. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink.”

Aerith shrugged. “Don’t do it often. I don’t like it when my brain’s fuzzy. Usually.” Tonight, I wish it was.

Cloud hummed. “Yeah. Same.”

Neither of them said anything for a long beat. Aerith bit her lip. They hadn’t actually gotten a moment alone since their date at the Gold Saucer. The day after had been… a lot. The Coliseum match, the Turks, Cait Sith’s betrayal, the panic and anxiety of it all. There had been no time to talk, no time to rest. Only once, in the night, had Cloud reached out for her. They’d been riding in the buggy, crossing the desert in their desperate rush to make it to the Temple of the Ancients before it was too late. Aerith had thought that almost everyone was asleep—except for Tifa, at the driver’s wheel, and Cid, operating as her navigator. Aerith couldn’t sleep, though. Thoughts of the Black Materia, of Cait Sith, of the Ancients, of Sephiroth kept running through her mind a mile a minute, and she just couldn’t stop. Until someone shifted next to her, and then suddenly there was a hand in hers, warm and solid. She’d turned to Cloud, blinking slowly. He hadn’t said anything, just brushed his thumb over her knuckles. Then, he’d nodded towards his shoulder—an invitation that Aerith had accepted with a sigh of relief, greedily taking in his warmth as she rested her head on it and closed her eyes again.

There had been no need for words that night. She wasn’t sure it was the same now. It was the calm before the storm—one night in Costa del Sol before they would board the Bronco and sail North. To face whatever was waiting for them there. Suddenly, the silence was suffocating.

“You worried?” she asked, folding her arms on the counter and sneaking him a glance.

Cloud sighed. “We’ll be fine. We’ll get the Black Materia back.”

“We will.” She hummed, leaning her forehead down on her crossed arms. “Still.”

“Still what?”

Aerith drew in a deep breath. “I think I’m more than worried. I’m scared,” she whispered.

She felt his hand land tentatively on her shoulder. “I got you,” he said. “I promised you I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?”

“You did.” She turned her head a bit to look at him. His eyes were soft, understanding, but determined and focused. “Thanks. I’ll keep you safe too.”

Cloud cracked a smile. “That’s not how bodyguards work.”

Aerith giggled, straightening up. “It’s how this one works.” She leaned on the counter again, this time on a propped elbow. “He acts real tough and strong, but he still needs his favourite florist to bail him out of trouble every once in a while.”

He playfully rolled his eyes. “As if.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, then gave him a small smile. “I protect you, you protect me. Deal?”

Cloud nodded slowly. “Deal.”

Quiet descended once again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but it was charged. As if they were both waiting for something.

In the end, Cloud was the one who broke it. “We need to talk,” he said, furrowing his brows seriously.

Aerith gave him a lopsided smile. “We are talking.”

He frowned, but it was almost more of a pout. “Aerith.”

“Yeah. I know.” She sighed. “Sorry.”

Cloud took a deep breath. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, with no progress on his starting sentence. Aerith giggled quietly, and he shot her an unhappy look. “Give me a break.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, still smiling. “Go on.”

He inched his hand forward on the counter until it brushed hers. Without breaking eye contact, he gently entwined their fingers. Aerith stilled a little, but let him.

Letting out a sigh, Cloud stroked circles with his thumb on the back of her hand. “If I ask you a question, will you promise to answer me? And tell me the truth?”

Aerith bit her lip. “Cloud—”

His hold on her hand tightened. “Please,” he whispered. “I need to know.”

She looked into his pleading eyes, and there was nothing she could do but nod.

Cloud broke eye contact, but didn’t let go of her hand. “Our game,” he started. “Still playing?”

Aerith wanted to laugh. They were still speaking in code. She supposed it was easier than the alternative.

Do you love me? Are you still trying not to?

A few days before, she would have tried to find an escape. She’d have teased him and avoided answering. But she was tired. So tired, so sad, so scared, and maybe a little tipsy too.

So, she shook her head. “No. I lost a long time ago.”

Cloud sucked in a sharp breath. “You did?” he asked, so quiet that she almost missed it.

Aerith hummed. “I tried. I’ve been trying. But… I guess I always knew I was going to lose, didn’t I? That’s why I tried to put it on you.”

“Too late,” he blurted out. He grimaced slightly, then cleared his throat. “It was always too late.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

He was blushing to the tip of his ears and refusing to meet her eye. “Yeah. I think the dream was when I knew, but…” He shook his head. “It’s like I told you in Nibelheim. It was inevitable. From the moment I met you, I was always going to—” He cut himself off and finally looked at her again.

Aerith could only stare at him. She’d known he had feelings for her now, but… “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “All this time—”

Cloud scoffed. “After two weeks? After two days? That’s creepy as hell.”

“I suppose,” she said, giggling as she drew closer. “But it would have saved us a lot of headaches.”

He frowned a little. “And you? You could’ve said something earlier.”

“I could’ve.” She dropped her gaze to the ground. “But I told you—I was trying to protect you. Guess I was always doomed to fail there, huh?” She swallowed a knot in her throat. “I’m scared.” Then, she felt his hand on her chin, gently tilting her head up to meet his eyes again.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “And I’ll be here. As long as you want me to.”

Aerith pressed her lips together. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen now. I don’t know what we’ll find at the Temple. I just—”

“We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

She nodded a little shakily. Then, she closed her eyes. “Okay.” His hand slowly shifted so that he was cupping her face. As he gently stroked the skin under her eye, Aerith sighed and leaned into the touch. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” she whispered, covering his hand with hers. “You’re still here, fighting for me, despite everything.”

Cloud chuckled. “I told you before. You’re you and I’m me. You’re worth it. That’s all.”

She smiled. “Inevitable, right?”

“For me it was. But it takes two.”

“Well, it was inevitable for me too,” she replied, stealing a kiss from his palm. “But I just want the record to show that if anything happens, I tried.”

Cloud scoffed. “Noted. But I won’t let it.”

Aerith hummed, studying his face. His eyes were focused, but soft—soft like in the picture, soft like on the Skywheel, like at the water tower, like at the bonfire, like on the beach, like in the dream. She leaned a little closer to him. “Can I kiss you now?”

Cloud stilled for a fraction of a second. Then, instead of replying, he just closed the distance between them. This kiss was nothing like their first: no rush, no nervousness, no uncertainty. Just quiet affection and relief.

“I love you,” murmured Aerith without breaking contact. “I love you.” And, this time, it was all sweet. So sweet.

In response, Cloud let go of her hand to cup her face with both of his and pull her even closer to him. He muttered something against her lips, something she couldn’t quite make out, but it didn’t really matter. She had a good guess.

Cloud was the one to pull away first, this time. His eyes shone with love and relief, and Aerith thought that she wanted to drown in the Mako blue. “I won’t let anything happen,” he repeated, barely above a whisper. “I’m not losing you, no matter what.”

Aerith smiled, tracing his jawline with a delicate finger. “Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

[tinynightmarewoman]

Mine and my brothers favourite thing about TDPA, and by extension any SMG story games, is you can always identify three specific types of characters we've lovingly named 'The Wet Rat', 'The HUH?!', and 'The Punching Bag'! There is always at least one character that fits in to one or two or maybe all three of these types!

Punching bag is pretty self explanatory, its the character that SMG decided really needed to get bullied and beaten, absolutely pounded, trounced, belittled! Battered and Fried with salt and vinegar in a roll of newspaper and whether or not that character fights back or takes it like champ... varies greatly. Every other QTE leaves them with a fresh bruise, gaping wound of broken bone, easy to wound yet doesn't die very easily. Plot armour is strong but blunt force trauma is stronger.

The HUH?! character is exactly what you think, the one character that just has... nothing between there ears... You can look in their eyes and see the back of their empty skull! The world is fresh and new and they are baffled by existence itself, a true marvel of humanities ability to just be the dumbest thing that exists. Somehow live for either a very long time or is dead before the big bad shows up, never an in-between.

My personal favourite is The Wet Rat, just the character you look at and go "... damn...". Just the biggest, soggiest and most pathetic rat you find digging in the bins. Its doing its best but its just... so soppy, so stunted and you can't help but love them or wish to put them outta their misery... yet sometimes they do a 180 and are the scariest fucking things to walk this earth and are a threat to anything in a 10 mile radius... truly chaotic 10/10

[nonbinary-thot]

Spiderman definitely has a thing for bondage!!!

a/n please note that this is not about marvel peter park (tom Holland) as he is 16 and does not progress in age. Please don't bash me about this as I am making a statement before I posted this !!!

Spiderman, aka Peter Parker was your boyfriend of three years, and he had told you two years in that he was Spiderman. He couldn't really hide it well, he always came home beaten up and you'd fix him up.

Peter was having an especially hard day today. A villain had gone berserk today, robbing bank after bank and peter just couldn't seem to catch up.

So after fighting the villain for so long, he had come home beaten up, just wanting to rest in the warm crevice of your pussy. He didn't even wanna fuck, just wanted to eat you out for a couple hours.

But when he came home, and you fixed him up, you refused to let him anywhere near you or your body. "Peter, as much as I fuckin' love you, I can't keep fixing you up after every beaten. I'm tired of it. Either stop getting hurt, or go to someone else to patch you up." You huffed, crossing your leg over your right leg. You were dressed in that silky nightgown he had gifted for you, and it turns him on so much seeing it on you.

Peter just groaned slightly, feeling his cock stir alright. "Baby please.. just a bit? I just wanna taste.. just need it baby.." peter begged, getting on his knees to sit in front of you. His eyes half lidded, a prominent pout on his now glossy lips he had just licked.

That's how you ended up... Your hands webbed to the headboard, your legs thrown over his shoulder as he pounded into you, his fingers pulling and flicking at your nipples. All you could do was cry, fat tears running down your cheeks as your cunt clenched and spasmed around his thick cock.

Peter wasn't exceptionally big per day, he was 5 inches with an upward bent, but god was he thick in girth. It was so girthy and delicious, it made you cum so hard your legs would shake. And that's how we liked it.

"fuck, I just wanted to eat you out, mama.. but you just have to be so fuckin' bratty, huh?" He growled, on of his hands leaving your nipples and gripped your waist, slamming his cock deeper into you. Your jaw was slacked, drool dripping and eyes rolled back.

He was just so.. deliciously thick, it was hard not to cum. And he could tell by the way your cunt was suddenly squeezing, the way your cunt shifted from not so tight to tight told him you were close. "Don't you fuckin' cum, bratty bitch. You wanna be a brat? You can get treated like one." He whispered, slicking the sweat off your neck and bit down lightly, licking at the indented teeth marks.

You couldn't help but clench at his threat, and the thrusts he was giving? It was to much !! You came with a broken moan, your legs tightened and closing around his neck. That made him stop.

You panted, the sticky residue of salty tears on your cheeks and his deepening glare at you only fueled you. His hand suddenly landed on your neck, tightening so you could barely breathe, but wouldn't pass out.

"Dirty girl, how could you not listen to me? It was such a clear instructions.. I guess we'll keep going, and this time I'll make sure you don't cum."

Reposts are appreciated !!! Thank you for reading :))

[mdhwrites]

Would you consider explaining here, in your opinion, the decline of the Emperor's Coven as an antagonistic force or even broadly as a concept within TOH's world? And - if you don't mind me asking - do you think it had that much of an adverse effect on the series?

So I'm going to break this up into two sections to answer the two questions here. The first is going to be their decline and then why that had an actually pretty big adverse effect though not one you'll immediately feel. I'll do bold text and what not to help clarify in case you want to go to each.

The Decline of the Emperor's Coven

So it is important to recognize that there is a decline at all because it is important, regardless of how quickly it happens. The first time we see an EC guard is during the Covention demonstration in episode 5. Before then, we only have the bumbling guards of the Conformatorium as the protectors of the Isles. They have all magics, Lilith beats Eda in a witch's duel implying that she is even stronger than her, bare minimum due to not having the curse, and in general is treated with reverence. They fill out an entire stadium of people wanting to join them. Amity's biggest motivation and desire for the future is to join them. They're a BIG deal and implied to be real threats. Enough so that Eda will actually hide from them unlike in episode 1 where the regular guards made her not worry about needing a disguise of any sort. She isn't reckless with the guard but they are definitely less than the EC, even if not absolutely stated.

But... The decline starts almost immediately as the next time we see them is episode 8, Upon a Swap. Not only do they struggle with keeping Luz entirely under control while in Eda's body but they have a humiliating loss at the end of the episode when Eda swaps everyone's bodies around. I believe we still see some Conformatorium guards, something that effectively stops by S2 but this is the origin of Steve. Still, they lost Luz from other madness going on and the joke at the end is followed up by Lilith's resolve. It could be brushed off.

Unfortunately they don't really ever get another big moment. They turn into the name drop for turning in Eda but otherwise, until Agony of a Witch, we don't see any EC members besides Lilith. Unfortunately, Lilith just lets Eda go once, loses a Grugby match a different time and that's it for TEN. EPISODES. Mostly just jokes as Lilith refuses to actually do her job.

Until in Agony of a Witch, Lilith and an entire squad of scouts are beaten... By Hooty. As a joke. Yes, at the end of the episode, Lilith gets a big fight against Eda but this isn't an even fight like before. They use all the same spells they did in the previous fight but Lilith has to cheat in order to not be immediately obliterated by the power gap between her and Eda. It's not an intelligence thing either as Eda isn't using tactics besides BLOW THE FUCK UP ALREADY. Lilith has to be saved effectively by the timer running out on Eda's magic because she never had a chance. Even if she's acting high and mighty... It still leaves a worse impression for how good her magic and her ability to fight are and she is the COVEN HEAD.

Hunter does not fix this in S2 either. His accomplishments are: Bullies a couple people without magic.

Steals defenseless palisman before losing them.

Beats up Kikimora while she's under sleeping drugs.

Kind of a step down from Lilith getting to claim to have beaten the most powerful wild witch in the Isles, isn't it? On the influence on the Isles side, we don't get a lot but Amity forsakes them kind of just because. No argument or debate about this still being her world and her needing proof that Belos and the EC are evil or can't be changed from the inside. No, she's just now a wild witch because her girlfriend is because otherwise we don't get a reason. Worse, Sport in a Storm... exists? An episode where multiclassing students have less than zero interest in joining the Emperor's Coven despite that being the only way for them to legally practice the type of magic they want. Also, just by concept, it requires that people are so disinterested in the EC that they now have to actually try to recruit people versus 20 years ago when people would curse each other just for a chance into the limited positions available.

Hell, by the end, it seems like most EC guards are honestly one bad day away from quitting, with no repercussions, because of Steve and the guard Dana voices who goes to the cute cat coven which isn't even one of the big nine.

Also means that the cute coven joke, which happened three episodes before The Day of Unity where everyone needed specifically one of then sigils (though why EC coven members were affected without a representative in the ritual is unknown) had to go past Dana so many times she VOICED IT.

Sorry, got off track. On the power side, we only had Lilith before Hunter and Hunter doesn't have magic so the members have to keep up the slack. They are then immediately replaced with Abomatons and the Abomatons lose to... Everyone. They are literally never a credible threat except to Luz who had the worst chances of beating one when that came up because she already been worn down by the rest of the demonstration. Otherwise, the only moments the scouts or the abomatons are treated as real threats are when the Emerald Entrails are captured because they don't actually have a reason to fight them and cause problems for the school and when Amity tries to pretend Willow should be worried about them. Not all of them, only Willow and it's pointedly to make sure the audience knows that Amity is an idiot when it comes to Willow. That she is blatantly wrong about how much of a threat these guys are. That's still worse somehow than in Once Upon a Swap where they at least recognized these people could kick their asses without a distraction of some sort.

But that's how it falls. With how few times it shows up though, it raises a question:

2. Why Does the EC's Fall from Grace Matter?

It's actually pretty reasonable to wonder about this. Besides Hunter, they don't get a lot of appearances so why does it matter that they're inconsistent? Well... For one big reason:

They our only sign of Belos being a bad ruler. Of him being a dictator. Of him... At all. They exert his force more than even Hunter does because Hunter is constantly questioning him and not doing his job. For a villain like Belos, who is effectively not in the series for 90% of it since he doesn't take an active role until the Hollow Mind effectively, before then it's always just sweet words to people that are all lies, THAT'S A PROBLEM.

If we can't take his coven seriously... Why should take him seriously? Worse yet, why should we take Luz's opinion of him seriously? When she yells about him lying to people and she claims he's hurting people, you're left asking how? The guards are bumbling fools without direction or ability. Most of them, Hunter included, are just one push away from not doing their job. That's not what happens with a dictator and it's not what you should be thinking abut when EC members become the primary threat to our protagonists.

Instead, the show has no tension for its second half except against Belos effectively. Whenever EC members are around, victory or loss is just entirely plot dependent and we know that. That's how Willow can effortlessly bury a person and their abomaton and then they just... show up, covered in vines once we're actually pretending these people are threats. It's why they during the entirety of Labyrinth Runners, its only Gus and Hunter we're following because their lack of magic makes them able to be threatened while Amity and Willow getting in each other's way is the far larger threat than the trained soldiers. An abomaton and captain of the guard is just one not that fancy combo move away from being beaten because they're that little of a threat.

For an adventure show, that's just explicitly bad. From a thematic standpoint, it actually gets worse the more times WILLOW specifically beats them. After all, Willow is the poster child of the regime. She practiced the wrong type of magic at first before finding the one that the Titan blessed her to be able to be a master of. The more times she specifically beats the EC handedly, despite them using multiple magic types like Luz and Eda preach you should be able to... It makes you question if Belos isn't right. The evidence amongst the main characters, Gus included, is that he is and them conquering his forces better than Luz, Eda, Lilith, Barkus, Jerbo or Viney just reinforces that they're better.

Even Amity, who still only practices one type of magic, eventually beats the poster boy of the Emperor's Coven, something Luz never does in a fair fight. So is Belos wrong in thinking witches should only be using one coven?

Yes, him lying makes that the case but the show supports his arguments far more while also discrediting him as some grand tyrant who is a force that needs to be opposed. Hell, Terra tried to poison kids and its his guards, and his laws, that protect Eda and Raine during Them's the Breaks because why not? The EC scouts don't like doing evil. Steve and the cute cat coven members make that clear.

It discredits the final villain and ruins the themes while also just making the show worse at its genre. So yeah, it's a real problem... But only a problem if you think about it. If you care about the worldbuilding. Otherwise, the lack of stakes is the main one that will dig at the back of your brain because you'll want to be invested in what's happening but everytime a fight scene breaks out, it's nothing. Because you know the result.

And as Belos' only manifestation for absolutely the first season and arguably the second... That should be the last thing you feel when one a squad of these guys steps up.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[solradguy]

....so got any sol johnny headcanons

:) <3

I don't think there's any actual love between the two, it's purely carnal and situational

Tbh I imagine Sol as the top in most pairings, but Johnny is so smooth and one of the few characters in the GG cast that Sol doesn't seem to view as an existential threat, so I think in certain circumstances Sol might bottom for Johnny

Denki Akiba writes their interactions (in Heliogenoms) with them kicking each others' asses and realizing it's kinda hot seeing another beefy guy sweaty and bleeding and that's probably like 90% of how anything between the two happens. It Just Makes Sense™️

There's a lot of gay chicken between the two and eventually it went too far because neither tapped out and it turned out they were kinda into it

I know Johnny talks about hooking up with hot babes all the time in the actual canon, but he brings it up so much and they show it actually happening like... maybe once... So I think he's actually gay as hell. There's no reason to really lie about that in a setting like GG's where it seems to be pretty chill about LGBT people though. BUT a lot of Johnny's persona comes from how he viewed his dad, so it's possible he's clinging to that memory and overcompensating slightly. Performative heterosexuality as a coping mechanism.

Sol is bisexual. I won't budge on this. Daisuke hasn't outright said it but I know it in my heart of hearts.

SO. Johnny is gay as shit but surrounded by cute women all of the time and May hovers around him like a gnat 24/7. Man has zero privacy at home, he's gotta be dying. There is NO WAY he would EVER phone Sol up and be like "let's bang, ok." Probably. Sol would laugh at him and hang up. I think, if the stars aligned, Johnny would call and be like "there's [x thing] happening at [y place] with a bounty of [z world dollars]. could be worth it" just absolutely dripping with subtext.

Post-GG Xrd it gets harder to imagine Sol and Johnny hooking up though. Their chemistry is best between roughly GGX through Xrd. Once Jack-O' gets more involved I just can't see Sol and Johnny engaging in their ritual "beat the shit out of each other" roleplay anymore, and that's kind of the core of how I imagine their interactions. I also don't think Jack-O' and Johnny have any (sexual) chemistry either, but they'd probably at least be friends. Johnny's cowboy-Zorro thing and Jack-O's disco girl thing are fun platonic dynamics and it's fun imagining them with Sol (and possibly Axl too) just sitting around somewhere drinking crappy beer and laughing about the absurd stuff they've been through together.

Neither Sol or Johnny are very big on opening up emotionally to other people, but the two of them have been through some serious shit, especially with Gears killing loved ones and being forced (willingly or unwillingly) into almost savior-like roles they would rather not have ended up in. Eventually I think they'd realize they have this common ground and it would lead to a massive increase of respect for each other. That said, they're both so weighed down by having repressed their emotions for so long that I haven't imagined a scenario (yet) that feels convincing enough for them to ever talk about it in a major way. This aspect of their dynamic is the most interesting to me though.

Sol and Johnny are incredibly similar, yet process their traumas in completely different ways; they were both beaten down and spit on by the world, and I enjoy exploring that aspect of their characters. While Johnny focused that trauma into something positive—by becoming a father figure for so many girls/young women orphaned by the Crusades and making sure they never had to go through what he went through—Sol isolated himself, blamed himself for everything bad that happened to him and his loved ones, and forged his trauma (and himself) into a literal weapon that he then used to better the world through destructive force. Lighting fires to contain an even bigger fire, in a way.

If Sol had had someone to rely on, that could have kept pace with him, would he have been able to truly prevent the Crusades? Johnny is only a mortal human man, but he can keep pace with Sol, and I genuinely think that's fascinating.

[kharmii]

I wrote this as a reply to a post, but maybe it should get added to the tags so anybody getting into the ship has a place to look up origins all in one place for context. There are too many people with 'Queen Bee Syndrome' going around pissing in people's cheerios telling them what they can and can't ship. It isn't as bad as they say, yo. It was supposed to be humorous! Anyway....

I've been seeing so much Catholic guilt on Twitter these days where people be like, "I can't believe I used to like Trainwreck! It makes me want to vomit! Why would I think it was sexy to see a guy beating up another guy!" It's either pretentious virtue signaling, or it's coming from scared young girls being brow-beaten by the threat of cancel culture into having to prove how good and perfect they are in fandom. Get over yourselves and check out my collection of vintage Trainwreckshipping posts that (facetiously) explain the context of why violence was funny.

Emmet goes to fight God but Arceus hides behind a pillar and points to Volo.

Manipulative Volo laughs about what he did but...oh no! Here comes the pissed off brother!!

Princess bride meme rough handling of Volo.

Emmet chokes Volo.

TAKE THAT YOU VILE FIEND!! (Emmet punches Volo meme)

Emmet chases Volo riding on Arceus.

Emmet chokes Volo but ends up with a knife pressing into his gut.

Volo plays a mean prank to mess with the twins.

Sexual tension with a knife part 1.

Sexual tension with a knife part 2.

Sexual tension with a knife part 3.

Volo so smug and manipulative; Emmet so crazy.

Death threat.

Emmet bloodies Volo's nose.

Where Volo is actually evil and bad ends Emmet.

Emmet coming to whoop some ass.

Giratina possessed Emmet threatens to assault Volo.

Emmet goes after Volo with a brick.

Brave soul who is still doing toxic trainwreck in modern times.

Oops (It never gets old).

Me taking the piss part 1.

Me taking the piss part 2.

If I missed any, please pm me and I'll add them (and I'll keep adding to this post as I finds 'em).

This might be an unpopular opinion, but if someone gives you a hard time for being into this ship, you could always reply along the lines of, "Fuck you, pretentious, virtue-signaling twat. I don't owe you or anybody else anything. Nobody should be judging a person's morality based on what silly thing they ship" It might not get you any friends now, but I'm holding out hope we one day get past cancel culture. Currently, we give too much power to seasoned bullies who use the current political environment as a way to get around the social stigma of anti-bullying campaigns.