#bet he'd get along with zack ;_;

[one-winged-dreams]

I'm definitely going to have to add Wedge as a platonic after that dream I just had.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE JAE YEOL (JAY HONG) HEADCANONS

You were the new student at the Jaewon High school and the teacher asked you to introduce yourself to everyone in the class. A certain blonde haired guy with his bangs covering his eyes surveyed you with slight interest. He could feel slight warmth settling inside him as he looked at you and your features. Your smile was enchanting and captivating. You sat next to him and extended your hand out to him with a warm friendly smile on your face. He simply blushed slightly and turned away without shaking your hand. You could tell he wasn't trying to be rude, he was just shy. You got to know later on his name was Jay Hong and was given the nickname of being the prince of the fashion department

Apart from Daniel, you're the other person who could understand Jay. Whenever you'd ask him if he'd like to go out with you somewhere he'd nod with a slight smile. You've never heard him talk but it doesn't bother you too much since you could understand him. You make him feel so...warm and contended, you make him feel heard despite not talking out loud. He loves it when you smile, he always wants to see you smiling and being happy, he doesn't like seeing you sad or upset. The other day you got a lousy score on one of your tests and you were down in the dumps. Not even the incessant needling from Zack telling you to cheer up since it's a stupid test worked on you and you were pretty bummed out about it. After the lunch period was done, Jay strode over to your desk and handed you a bag and as you opened inside it and looked in it, you saw your favorite chocolates, goodies and treats along with a heartwarming little encouraging note from him. You thanked him and ended up giving him a hug and he felt like his heart would stop beating at the moment. He wanted to hold you in his arms forever and never let go of you

He'll fall for you real fast and real hard too. When he does, he catches obsessive feelings for you quite quickly too which will result in him getting rather sulky and pouty when you talk to other people, excluding Daniel. You had to work on an assignment with Zack once and the entire time, Jay sat right smack in between you both despite the complaints from Zack on how he had to deal with an annoying blonde the whole time. However Jay didn't give a damn. He'd rather shoot someone than have them steal you away from him. Just because he's quiet and shy and nice to YOU doesn't mean he has to be nice to the other annoying people who try to steal you away from him. It annoyed and frustrated him to no end when the teacher refused to let him be your partner even after asking him to change your partner so he could be with you. However he couldn't do anything about it since you actually liked the teacher and he knew you'd be sad if the teacher left and he doesn't want to see you sad

You can bet your allowance he will stalk the absolute daylights out of you and will always have your location one way or another. Say goodbye to your privacy since there'll always be someone or the other in the shadows to ensure your safety. He has FILES of your likes, dislikes and his assistant gives him an update of everything that happens in your life. He knows you better than you know yourself by now and he takes great pride in that and could probably write a freaking thesis about you and your personality. He has unfinished love letters that he wanted to give you but couldn't bring himself to do so because he didn't want to ruin your friendship with him. Poor guy would be devastated if you started ignore him, something in him will just break. Look, he can tolerate insults and anger and people hitting him but you ignoring him is much worse

Like I mentioned before, don't underestimate the way he fights just because he never really interacts or fights on common occasions, there's a reason you should always watch out for the quiet ones. He would never forgive someone trying to hurt you, he'd send them a one way ticket to the hospital with zero remorse and empathy. Have you seen the way he fights? His moves are fast and quick and it's all thanks to his training with the one and only Alexandra Sophia herself, learning a variety combination of mixed martial arts which he'll put to good use so he can protect you. If Logan ends up picking on you or making disgusting lecherous comments about you, he'll just walk over to him silently without even saying anything and just break his hand like it's nothing. Logan will have a natural hatred for blondes now thanks to him lol

Jay will get slightly pouty and jealous and sulky when you receive gifts from someone else. He'll quickly find a way to one up them because...he's Jay Hong after all. Oh, someone gave you a nice dress for your birthday? Well, here's 5 duffel bags full of the most fashionable clothes that are trending these days. Someone gifted you a new gadget? You'll have plenty more from him. He'll just walk up to you with a smile on his face and set the bags down for you. Of course, he finds it rather endearing and cute when you end up getting flustered and embarrassed like this and will not accept a no from you. You're going to accept his gifts and tokens of love for you and no, you don't get to have a say in this

Like the others he doesn't want you getting involved in gang stuff. The last thing he needs is for you to get targeted by some gang member but he's not really worried though even if that happens because he'll probably just murder them and find a way to cover up the body. Hey, when it comes to you, he's willing to do anything to make sure you're safe. What's a few dead bodies and gang members going to do anyway? He insists on dropping you off home on his bike and this is something you don't get to have a say on either. He'll just silently stand there and put his helmet on your head and gesture for you to get on his bike. He'd rather not take any chances when you're walking down the streets. He gets quite flustered when your arms are wrapped around his torso though, he'll be a blushing mess under his helmet and will be smiling smiling to himself, basking in the warmth and your soft gentle touch

He's not someone to play mind games with you or gas light you, he's too pure for that. He doesn't want to hurt you. However if your safety is being threatened, he won't hesitate to snatch you up from your life faster than you can even blink. You'll find yourself in a well furnished room on a soft large bed as you wake up. You'll of course, be quite confused as to what's happening and Jay will silently come into the room with a tray of your favorite things and set it down on the table beside the bed for you. When you ask him whether you can leave, he'll simply shake his head and refuse to let you go. You might not be bound by ropes or chains to the bed but that doesn't mean you'll be able to escape either. His loyal assistant is always there to observe you and snitch on you the moment you try anything funny

The security systems and the locks will be quite advanced and you won't be able to leave. By mistake even if you end up leaving, he'll just bring you back. He'll look at you with a slightly hurt look on his face and is sad that you tried to leave him but he understands why you'd leave him, you probably feel trapped and he gets your feeling. Which is why he'll take you out for private little outings to places he knows you'll enjoy. Just don't leave his hand, he needs to prevent you from running away again. However when it comes to someone stealing you from him...he won't have any mercy or remorse for them. They'll either get blacklisted from a company or their social status would be ruined or something. He'd do it secretly of course, without you ever finding out about it since he doesn't want you thinking that he's some sort of monster

He'll be quite hurt and devastated when you initially try to withhold yourself from eating anything and refusing to eat food. He'll look at you with the expression of a kicked puppy and a small tear will roll down his eye as he silently pleads and cajoles you to eat. He doesn't want anything happening your health, he loves you too much for that. Would you like for him to feed you because he's ready for that too. Just please eat something

He'd be flustered whenever you hug him or show him even the slightest of affection but he still loves it nonetheless. He loves it when you run your fingers through his hair, he'll let out a soft hum and look at you with a soft smile, like he has the world in front of his eyes. He'd like to touch your hair too and caress your cheek lovingly if you'd permit him too of course. He wouldn't do anything you're uncomfortable with since he's quite the gentleman. He likes holding your hand too and entwining and wrapping his fingers in yours as he kisses the back of your hand ever so gently. Overall, as a yandere, he'd be a nice one to have. Pretty chill and laid back who would ensure you're always by his side no matter what...

[galadrieljones]

Winter Season Three Word Prompts - bethyl, hidden tavern + twilight + empty glass

Thank you for another lovely prompt ❤️ This is sort of a prequel to Chicken Feathers, and part of a developing series of one-shots focusing on alternative events after the prison. You can subscribe to the series here. This story can also be read at AO3. ^_^

Nick’s Place

For the past two weeks, after burning down the moonshine shack, they had been living on the road, hardly sleeping, eating whatever bullshit they could find in the woods. Daryl shot a rabbit, got them through two nights. Each day he shot something, but it was never enough. It was only rodents left in those woods by now. Beth found a bunch of pecans in a grove to the east. She found some thyme growing by a dried-up old culvert, made a crude stew one night, out of squirrel meat and four wild carrots. She had grown quiet in those days. Daryl couldn't tell, but the fire felt like ripping the band-aid off Hershel's death, and now the wound was airing out and ripe to the touch. It was new territory for him.

The fire had brought walkers in from every direction. It was a circumstance neither of them had considered that night, half-drunk on the stoop, and this meant they had to get away. They diverged from the railroad tracks for miles, but then they stumbled upon some more railroad tracks, so it felt like they were running in circles, and everywhere they went, it seemed to be walkers. Now, the days were getting shorter, and the nights were getting colder, and they needed a place to stay. They needed shelter. Daryl couldn't believe it, thought they'd have come upon a sub-development or at least somebody's cabin or a farm by now. They spotted a cottage near the pecan grove but it was overrun with walkers, smoking like firecrackers in a toilet bowl, flooding in from the fire. Burning down that moonshine shack might have been cathartic in the moment, he thought, but it seemed to be their last chance at four walls and a roof, and it seemed to ring the dinner bell throughout the entirety of north Georgia.

One day, they found a school. It was overrun inside, but there was a big jungle gym, surrounded by a locked chain-link fence. It had been spared. They took advantage of it for a couple nights, jury-rigged a tent on a raised platform at the end of the wobbly bridge, and Beth made jokes about it being like their castle.

"If I'm the queen, and you're the king, we're gonna need an army," she said. They were hanging out by candlelight in the tent. Daryl was fletching an arrow, and she was patching a hole in her sweater. "I bet we could conscript some walkers."

"The walkers are more like a moat," said Daryl. "We can route them around in circles, like water."

"Good plan," said Beth. "But then who are we gonna call up as knights?"

"Dunno," said Daryl. "Could be it's just the two of us. We'll have to fend for ourselves for a while."

"I guess," said Beth. This seemed to trouble her, and so soon thereafter, they went to sleep. It was cold, so she slept beside him, her chin to his shoulder, beneath a big flannel blanket they’d found by the side of the railroad tracks. It had been covered in burs and dried mud when they found it, and was tattered to shreds along one side.

When it came to understanding Beth, Daryl was flying blind. He'd always had a soft spot for her. Daryl had a complex about saving women. She was pretty and she seemed unsullied by all the ugly diseases of the world like he was. When he got Zack killed, he saw another little piece of her whither away, and it angered him, but then she embraced him, and the shock of that moment still lingered inside his body to this day. He couldn't shake it. That night, at the moonshine shack, she had given him a gift, just by listening to him, by shouting at him. Daryl wasn't used to people caring enough to shout at him. Usually they'd just beat the shit out of him or ghost, and God rest his soul, but that was true for Merle, too.

Sometimes, they'd be just going along, and Beth would stop, abruptly, and demand he stop as well, and she would do something like climb halfway up a tree just to pick a single apple, or scribble something in her journal, something she was afraid she might forget. Daryl didn't ask a lot of questions. These little actions were almost like rituals, and they seemed important to Beth. Him and Beth, it felt like just another malformation of the new order of things. If the world was the way it had used to be, a girl like her never would have trusted a guy like him. She probably would have thought he was creepy, or dangerous. Or maybe she'd have been kindly to him, but in the way kind girls are kindly to servants. He wasn't good enough for her, and that pissed him off at first, but now he just sort of gave in. It wasn't the old world. They weren't who they used to be, and it was Beth who taught him that. So he was just going to trust that she did not secretly despise him, and give her the space she needed to do whatever it was she needed to do.

One morning, the last morning they spent in the jungle gym kingdom, he woke up, and she was turned away from him, crying. He didn't know what to do, so he set his hand gently on her warm back, and immediately, she turned around and looked at him and wiped her tears away and sucked it all back so quickly.

"Did somethin happen?" said Daryl.

"No," said Beth. "It's nothin."

He didn't press her.

  They left that day. They needed something. They needed a place. They needed a miracle. They found a river. It was big. Daryl reckoned it could be the Chattahoochee, but he couldn't be sure. Didn't seem familiar enough. Could have been a tributary. They followed it for a little while, up a steep gorge, getting higher and higher until the water seemed very far beneath them. Beth said, maybe the river would lead them to a town, or a mill. Daryl said he was worried it would lead them right back to Atlanta.

When they got to a fork in the trail, Daryl thought he saw something down there in the water, something floating. He thought it was a doll or a stuffed animal, but then he realized he was just having a flashback to Sophia, and it wasn't anything at all, it was probably just some sort of carcass. When he took a step backwards off the edge of the gorge, feeling downright stupid, he landed on a patch of loose dirt, and he fell. He just fell, sliding down the side of the ravine, maybe twenty, thirty feet, not stopping till he got ahold of some rocks, then a hefty hickory root, as thick as a flagpole. 

Beth screamed after him. The effort was tremendous, holding on for his life, and he grunted loud from the center of his gut and shouted for her, looking up to the edge, where she was on her knees, hanging halfway off, trying to reach. But it was just no use, and it was dangerous.

“Stay away from the edge!” he shouted. He didn’t want her to fall, too. “I got this!”

She shouted his name. “Oh my god, Daryl,” she kept saying. “Daryl, what can I do? What can I do?”

“Just get away from the goddam edge!”

She obeyed, and he started pulling himself up the side of that ravine upon brute strength and adrenaline alone. This whole thing was all too familiar, he thought, but at least this time, he didn’t have a damn arrow in his side. Why was his mind like this? Why was he always goddam seeing things? Falling down places? A fuckin dumbass. Merle was probably shitting himself with laughter, watching this from some beat trailer park in the sky.

When he finally made it to the top, he was exhausted. His whole body singing in pain, distress. He stumbled for a second, dropped his crossbow and fell flat onto his back in the reeds. Looking up to the sky. It was milky and blue, turning purple at the edges. Some of the clouds were pink. Looked like cotton candy. Beth, who had been standing just away from the edge like he told her, fell hard onto his chest, crying, and this jerked him back to reality. It was like she thought he was dead, and she was alone. 

“Beth,” he tried saying. He was surprised by her reaction. But he was so tired. Not much was coming out clearly, and she was so upset.

“I shoulda done somethin,” she said.

"It was just some stupid mistake. There was nothing you coulda done. It’s all okay.”

She was crying.

Out of the woods, then, stumbled two walkers. One of them was a man with his t-shirt on backwards. Daryl didn’t know why this was the thing he noticed. It seemed to send a strange message about the path to come. It took his mind off the moment. He hesitated. 

But Beth saw the walkers for herself. She stopped crying. In some sudden tornado of rage, she stood right up, and she went at them. Daryl watched as she kicked the first one in the stomach, as hard as she could, twice. Once just to knock him backwards, and then again so that he tumbled off the ledge and straight down into the ravine. It was kind of a shock. Daryl thought he was hallucinating again. He moved for his crossbow, but it didn’t matter. Beth took out her knife, threw the other one, a female with only half a jaw, hard into a tree trunk, and stabbed her square through the eye socket. It happened so fast.

Daryl stared, half-confused, as she came back to his side, got on her knees, asking him if he was okay. Her ponytail was coming undone. Her face was all splotchy. She was saying they needed to go, because the light was leaving, and the day was getting cold, and they needed to find a place to spend the night. He just nodded, because he was tired and his back hurt and he thought maybe he bruised a rib, but also because he simply had gotten lost for words. He had never seen her do so much damage so quickly. The revelation blew him away. As she helped him up off the ground, he tried not to lean on her too much.

“Does it hurt bad?” said Beth.

“No,” said Daryl. “Are you okay?”

“Why?”

“Those were some serious moves you put on back there.”

“You needed me,” she said. “I just did what I had to.”

“I know, and thank you. I just didn't expect it. I never seen you do that before.”

“I watch you,” she said. “I learn. I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were stupid.”

“I know,” she said. “Come on, let’s go.”

He was flattered, by what she’d said, about watching him, and learning. Daryl was easily flattered, but this was different. He sort of felt the bottom fall out of his stomach a little bit. She had never really made him nervous before.

Beth had her arm wrapped tightly around his waist, and he had his slung around her shoulder. He was limping a little bit. It hurt pretty bad, but he was only jangled, and he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about his disposition. He didn’t have any broken bones, and he’d be mobile by morning. “I coulda had em,” he said.

"I wasn’t takin the chance.”

  They walked for a hour, heading away from the river, due east. The sun was melting through the trees, leaving a deep purple haze in the twilight air. It was getting cold. They were losing hope, and they were quiet. Beth seemed so focused on the road ahead. This wasn't like her.

“We’re gonna have to stop soon,” said Daryl. “Maybe we can find a culvert or a storm drain or somethin.”

“We gotta keep going. You're hurt."

“Beth.”

“A little farther,” she said.

"Till what? Till we hit more walkers, and we're too tired to fight?"

"No, Daryl. I just, I gotta feeling.”

He trusted her.

Together, they left the trail and entered the woods. The trees were all standing apart in the half-darkness, with telltale rodents and things skittering between them, a vast, botanical metropolis. These were pines, thought Daryl. They were going uphill. He no longer had any clue where they were. He knew this wasn’t the Chattahoochee. It was too small in hindsight. He began to wonder if they were even in Georgia anymore. Pines like this made him think they could be in Alabama. 

“We keep walking, Greene, we’re gonna end up in New Mexico.”

This made her laugh. It was a huge relief, to hear her laugh. “No we won't.”

He didn’t really care anymore, about what was coming, what was behind. Today had been a bad day, but they'd made it. They were together. They could walk all night. He’d walk all night with her, if that's what it took. The feeling flooded his insides with warmth.

But at some point, the woods started to feel impossibly dark, and dangerous. It didn't matter how good he felt inside. The darkness wrapped around them as tendrils from a sublime being. The moon was bright and big overhead, like a monstrous eyeball. Daryl was getting unnerved, but then he heard a strange sound. It was alarming, then familiar. 

"Beth, you hear that?" he said.

"Yeah. What is that?"

"That's a helicopter." 

They both looked up to the sky, and all around, but they couldn't see anything past the pines, nothing more than the great, fat moon. The sound was distant. "This way," said Daryl.

He grabbed her hand and together they leapt through the darkness, trying to find the direction of the whirring blades in the sky. They saw a walker, come stumbling out of the trees, had barbed wire wrapped all around it like a deranged Christmas present. Daryl shot it with an arrow and left it behind. They stepped over the carcass and into a clearing, where they kept looking up and all around but it was over. Wherever that helicopter had gone, it was a mystery now. The sound had faded away into the breeze and disappeared forever. 

"Dammit," said Daryl.

"Wait. What the heck is that?" said Beth.

They both stopped, perfectly still, staring at a yellow light coming through the pines. Like it was coming through a pinhole. They did not speak on it. That would have been a jinx. Instead, they just looked at each other, hastened their pace together, and went toward it. What did they have to lose? The rodents nipping at their ankles, the cold nipping at their necks and cheeks. They could see their breath. Then, just as the night began to suck them in completely, they entered another clearing, and they saw. It was an old tavern, one of these hidden places in the woods, maybe it drew farmers. Maybe log men. Or maybe it was new, a product of the new world, like a speakeasy. It had a parking lot, and a single lamppost. The parking lot was empty, but the lamppost was lit up, like a lighthouse.

“It's a bar,” said Daryl.

“It’s still got power,” said Beth.

“No,” said Daryl. “It’s kerosene. Fire. See?”

“That means somebody lives here. They been keeping it up.”

“Maybe,” said Daryl. “Stay alert.”

The tavern had a small sign out front, looked carefully made, letters embossed in cold aluminum. It said, Nick’s Place. That’s all it said. Nick’s Place.

“Wonder who Nick is,” said Beth.

“Or was.”

“Daryl, this place looks new,” said Beth. “We should knock.”

So, they did. There were vines growing all up and down the sides of the building. It was small, brown brick, with some windows that were blacked out from the inside. When nobody answered, Daryl pressed his ear to the door. 

“I hear music,” he said.

Beth knocked again. “Hello?” she said. “Hello? Is anybody home? We need help. We’re not gonna rob you, or kill you. We swear.”

Daryl gave her a look. “You think that’s gonna convince ‘um, huh?”

“Shut up, Daryl.”

“Come on,” he said. He leaned on the door knob, turned it sharply. It was unlocked. He pushed the door open, going in first, crossbow up. Beth was right behind him. Inside, it was like something from a movie.

There was a jukebox, and the song that played was “The Yellow Rose of Texas” by Gene Autry. Daryl recognized it from something a long time ago. He couldn't place when. A long, polished mahogany bar stood along the back, with big, clean mirrors behind. There were rich, red leather stools, in fine condition, and high-top tables of the same mahogany as the bar, plus a couple of corner booths on either side of the door. The floor was a dark wood, like pine treated with a vinegar soak, and there were more kerosene lamps, burning brightly, one on each table. Everything about the place was clean and maintained, but it was stark empty, and haunted by memories and dreams from another era, as if inhabited only by ghosts.

“Daryl,” said Beth.

“What?” said Daryl. He was fiddling with the juke box, but he couldn’t get it to stop, or to change songs. 

“What is this place.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But it’s kind of awesome.”

"We hear a helicopter in the woods, and it leads us here?"

"Is that what you think happened?"

“Yes."

"It was a coincidence."

"What if somebody comes back?” said Beth.

“We’ll deal with it,” said Daryl. “Don’t worry. We’re just staying for the night. We ain’t lookin for no trouble, or some kind of permanent residence.”

“Of course not.”

“Hey, look at this,” said Daryl. He found a huge leather-bound book behind the bar. “Holy shit.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a recipe book. It’s all full of old handwritten cocktail recipes. Damn.”

“Handwritten?”

“Yeah. Some good stuff in here. Come and see.”

She came around and leaned against the counter beside him. She stood real close, close enough to touch. As she flipped through the heavy paper pages, he stared at the back of her neck, the color of an egg shell, exposed beneath her ponytail.

“Too bad there’s no booze,” she said, looking up at him. “We’ll have to imagine what it would be like.”

“Yeah, we will,” he said.

  For dinner, they sat in one of the booths by the door and ate some of Beth’s leftover stew out of an old Pyrex she’d salvaged some time back. Daryl said they should take turns keeping watch, just in case whoever owned this place should return. Beth said she wasn’t tired. She went over to the juke box. She pressed a couple buttons, and finally, it stopped. It was like crickets, like they’d stopped time or something. “Whoa,” she said.

They laid out the tattered flannel blanket on the floor and sat down next to each other, leaning against the door to the outside world, like they were trying to keep it out. They each had an empty glass. Beth’s was filled with an imaginary Manhattan, and Daryl’s an Old Fashioned Presbyterian. Maybe this wasn’t a bar at all, thought Daryl. Maybe they’d gone through some sort of portal to the past, or to an alternate universe. In any case, he didn't care. As long as it was safe.

“Gonna be winter soon,” said Daryl. 

“I know,” said Beth.

“I just keep thinkin,” he said. He was holding the glass, turning it in circles on the dark wood. “Thank you, for taking care of them walkers, up on that ridge."

"You already thanked me Daryl."

"But I mean it this time. I just, it left me speechless before. You did good, Greene.”

She seemed shy. Her cheeks turned red. She looked down at her cowboy boots, which were all full of hearts and flowers, just like she was. “You’re welcome. And thanks.”

“What a weird fuckin’ day,” said Daryl, taking an imaginary drink of his imaginary Old Fashioned. “Weird fuckin’ day.”

“Definitely.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. In an instant, she was asleep, and Daryl was alone in the tavern between worlds, feeling things he could not rightly place. Feeling like a bartender, maybe a cowboy, maybe a pilot, maybe a lover, maybe a king. 

[up-sideand-down]

Zakkura 13

Send me a romantic or platonic ship and a number and I’ll write a short fic!

13. "Only you can call me that"

"My name is Cloud," he said. His tone was short, while still being polite. Still good for addressing his commanding officer. Angeal Hewley took it stride.

"Cloud," he repeated, "It's nice to meet the face that goes with all the stories Zack tells about you."

"Likewise," Cloud said.

"So...what does Zack say about me?" Angeal asked. Zack was pleased to hear Angeal laughing at the story Cloud rolled into. Probably the time they were walking through the wetlands and Cloud had the Angeal-ish idea to take turns making noise to distract the zoloms and avoid fighting. Zack didn't believe it worked. Cloud called him an idiot (also something Angeal would do).

"He's not wrong," Angeal admitted. Zack exhaled. Cloud had Angeal's approval. They were probably on the route to fast friends. He'd know if they were swapping recipes.

"My name is Cloud," he said again. Still short and polite, but a bit more pointed. Genesis had been listening to Cloud talk to Angeal. Genesis blinked. It seemed like he was deciding if he should make this a big deal right now, or save it for later. Cloud chose for him.

"You must be Genesis," Cloud said.

"What gave it away?" Genesis asked.

"You're the best dressed here," Cloud said, like a statement of fact, but definitely a compliment. Genesis brushed off Cloud's tone earlier, letting it go entirely.

Besides...Genesis did kinda look good with longer hair in a ponytail, but Zack wasn't going to be the one to say it. Genesis was already loose and gossipy when Cloud finished his next story. Zack would bet it was the time Cloud used himself as a decoy to fetch back some stolen chocobos. He used to work with the mounted division after all. He'd been preened plenty of times before that. Genesis would love that story. They way Genesis snickered told Zack he was probably right. It was damn endearing and Genesis probably liked him for not being so embarrassed about it.

"My name is Cloud," he said. Still polite, but very pointed. A bit more polite since Sephiroth had kept his distance until he had to (as per usual when meeting new people).

"My apologies," Sephiroth said, "Zack calls you that."

"I know, but my name is Cloud," he said, a bit more gently. Zack did warn Cloud though.

"Where did he come up with Spike?" Sephiroth asked.

"I think it started with my hair and just stuck," Cloud said, "it's been a long time since we became partners." 3 years, 4 months, and 25 days to be exact. Not that Zack was counting.

"You put up with it well enough," Sephiroth said, "I didn't tolerate it when Zack tried to call me Sparkleroth." Zack had forgotten about that. Buried it actually.

"It could be worse," Cloud said, "Mounties used enough chocobo names for me."

"You worked for mounted division?" Sephiroth said. And that did it. He and Cloud were talking about the best training tactics for birds since Sephiroth was working on training his.

When they left, Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth gave a slightly warmer goodbye to Cloud than to Zack. Mission successful. His friends got along with his partner.

But something stuck out for Zack.

"Do you hate that I call you Spike?" Zack asked.

"No," Cloud said, "not at all."

"Then why..." Zack trailed off.

"Only you get to call me that," Cloud said. And Zack understood. Warmth spread from his core to his fingertips. He felt the blush rising up his neck and face in a way only Cloud could do. Cloud squeezed his hand back when Zack slipped his fingers between Cloud's.

Other couples might have names like "Beloved" or "Dearest" or "Snookums". They had "Spike."

And there was no changing that.

[silver-wield]

Morning yall! Time for your daily dose of delusion destruction! This time we're focusing on second best bros, Cloud and Barret! (because Barret and Red is brotp, I don't make the rules I just follow them lol)

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven’t played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it’s gonna be middling.

Also, this is one person’s interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that’s cool and we’ll agree to disagree.

You’re also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I’m grabbing them from Youtube and it’s frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Please check my master post to see if I've already covered your question, thanx

Let's mosey!

Sorry for the no cut, I'm on my phone, so I'll have to add it later.

This line. Eugh. I've seen so much damn romantic coding thrown at it I'm sick to my back teeth how people ignore literally every other relationship Cloud has with people.

This is not about Aerith.

This is about Barret.

Remember? This is what happened like five minutes prior to this line. Cloud literally lost his friend. Another one. And right after he saw a simulation of that same friend dead after being forced to watch the girl he loves get killed. Again. Because he thought Tifa died in Nibelheim and that grief is still in him.

In the last couple of weeks, to Cloud, he's lost his mom, his home, Tifa and Zack. In the last day he's lost Jessie, Biggs, his new home and now Barret.

This is his goddamn expression at the time. He's frozen in place, breathing hard. He is trying so fucking hard not to cry. He's been in a very bad place emotionally through this whole bit in the Shinra building. He cried when the grunts reminded him about Zack dying. He was so terrified of Hojo he hid behind Barret and didn't say a single word until it wasn't even possible to carry out that bravado filled threat.

Cloud doesn't want to lose his friends. Every one of them is precious to him. He cherishes them all, or did we think that AC line was more dumb ship talk?

The second Barret gasps, Cloud slid to a stop. He looks back and we don't get to see his expression here or in the rest of the cut scene. It focuses on Tifa's relief, then gameplay resumes. Because I'd bet good money Cloud looks far too emotional that Barret's OK, and we're not supposed to see this much of real Cloud behind the mask.

So back to the point this makes the whole damn thing about Barret.

Cloud stops Barret from going after Rufus and comes up with a very logical reason why. The same thing he's been reminding Barret of whenever he got too over enthusiastic about busting Shinra heads. Several times Cloud says, "Stay on mission/remember our goal". It's not "oh we must save the damsel", it's mission time.

Cloud appeals to the leader in Barret. You know, the one where he literally leads a cell of Avalanche, makes sure all his people get home? That's what Cloud is referencing. It's Barret's desire to do the job and make sure everyone goes home.

Aerith is the job.

Now, if yall actually pay attention to Cloud's face like I do then you'd have noticed his eyes look suspiciously shiny during this bit. He can't quite hide that he was as broken up by Barret dying as the others were.

He knows Barret's an all guns blazing kind of guy. I mean Cloud literally jokes about "Why did we bring you along?" before they go into the building because Barret's suggestion is a full frontal assault. Then if you take the stairs you get him saying he'd choose a last stand over this.

Cloud is protecting Barret by making him leave. Because he doesn't want to lose his friend again.

And Barret understands this immediately because he looks cut up behind those sunglasses. It's a "you care about me, you lil jackass?" look and accompanies his putting his hand to the back of his head, which is a masculine gesture to convey embarrassment.

Guys (mostly) touch the back of the head or neck when they feel embarrassed or vulnerable because it's an instinct from hunter/gatherer days when they had to watch out for predators going for the back of the neck. In modern times it's become masculine body language to show emotional vulnerability.

In conclusion

This whole bit has very little to do with Aerith. She's an excuse Cloud used to save Barret. His friend. The one who just came back from the dead.

Hollow, ykno, that thing yall also think is romantically coded, speaks of if Cloud had a second chance what he'd do differently. It's not just about girls. It's about everyone he loves. Cloud loves so many people and can't bear losing them.

Ofc he'd do everything to keep them safe.

[augment-techs]

52: Bulk/Kim. Coinless universe + end of the world, however you'd love that~ ^^

The End of the World is a euphemism. Like the Death card in the Major Arcana.

If Kim hadn't made the first move nothing would have happened. Things would go on rather the same until another Big Bang hit, or the world turned again to fire and blood. After the speeches and the battle, after the arguing with Scorpina and Trini and Zack, after setting up a code of conduct and rules for going forward. After a whole twenty hours of standing on her feet and finally being led to a room that had once been hers as the Ranger Slayer. She was only just aware of the hand at her arm belonging to Bulk and the Red Sentry that left them at the door being Skull before they said something about food and rest and, "I'll take care of it," passing between them. She was wobbling in her steps, with her head on Bulk's shoulder as he lifted her up like the bride in a fairy story and shut the door behind them with his foot on the way to her bed. "There's that exhaustion at the End of an Era I was betting on taking you down hours ago," Bulk chuckled into the crown of her hair, setting her on the edge of the bed fit for royalty (oh, that was her now) while he made sure the bedding and pillows weren't covered in dust or toxic mold or traps; pulling back covers and linen fine. Kim was struck with the image of his hands; the gloves having been removed some time between the great battle and trying to get everything organized. There were big, and callused, fingernails down to the quick, but clean. Little nicks and scars and burn blemishes from the long years between her being incredibly stupid going after Drakkon on her own, and the now that they were in. They had both changed, of course they had, but this was something that left her feeling set afire; and she didn't even know why. Until he looked back from the bedding to smile at her; tired and kind and-- She wanted to fuck him. She was exhausted as he'd said, but she was suddenly filled with heat zinging from the crown of her hair where he'd kissed her and down into the heat between her legs where she had no memory of being touched in decades; though in that, she couldn't be sure. (Kim didn't want to remember if Drakkon had fucked her--she could remember him doing so to the sentries and anyone that caught his fancy, but she had no waking memory of his hands doing more with her than slimy caressing of her shoulders and face. But she could not be sure--she had to sleep some time.) When he looked back at her, saying something about leaving her to her rest, she didn't hesitate. She pounced. And if there was a moment where he seemed askance, taken aback, hesitant, it didn't last when she uttered words in between the kisses and her hands exploring under his clothes. "Want you--" …There were small bladed weapons strapped to him, little collections of bullets in all of his pockets that she grinned at every single one when she passed them over to the side table. "Missed you--" …Her bra was so ugly that the school girl in her felt ashamed for about a blink when he got her top off and used deft fingers to remove the straps and latch and knotting in the fabric; like an expert bomb technician that couldn't even be bothered to look at what he was doing while she pulled in his bottom lip with her teeth and his thumbs traced her nipples out in the open. "Please, please touch me--oh." She knew what she looked like naked, but she hadn't been prepared for what Bulk looked like under his own clothes when they were both rolling in the covers, grabbing and tracing the lines of each other. Tasting and biting, leaving marks along the grooves of scar and burn tissue. Bulk had her beat on cut and burn scars, stretch marks from growing into himself much too quickly as a teenager, impact and retrieval marks from bullets and arrows. It would take Kim a long time to trace and kiss, lick and suck and memorize each one. (But there was time now; she'd do it eventually.) He was so fucking huge she had to breathe hard on an inhale, open mouth wide without screaming, when she took him down over eight inches and he had to hold her aloft to keep from going too

hard, too fast. His big hands cupping her under her ass as Kim wrapped her arms over his shoulders and held on for dear life as Bulk set the pace on his knees at the center of the bed. They bounced with his thrusts, and when she blinked down to look at the expanse of his chest, the length and width of his cock, she could feel him fill up places she was aware she had, but never felt touched. Kim was so wet, enjoying everything he did to her, that a little puddle formed beneath the two of them well before she came--twice--in the hour; once still held up, him speeding up the pace so she felt as if she was riding a plough horse in a derby before he grooved just so she could come screaming; the second time laid out on top of him, her back to his front. He kept working her clit while holding her wrists tight in one hand, breathing heavy in her ear, "Oh, fuck...oh, fuck," until she turned her head to kiss him just so; her hair was in her eyes and his. She bucked into his palm, tightening around him, but still slick as she road the wave; sensitive but grinning stupid when she felt the condom fill up, full and hot, as he let go of her wrists to keep her steady with his arms wrapped around her in what qualified as a hug. (This was not the worst way to fall asleep; in a nest of tangled, chaotic bedcovers and sheets with him still inside her and both of them fucked out. In fact, it would become rather the favorite between the both of them.)