#final fantasy drabbles

[emmyc0z]

Can you write something for Sephiroth(pre-nibelheim) or Astarion? Your work is absolutely fantastic btw I’m in love with it ❤️❤️❤️

Not So Subtle

pairing : sephiroth x female!reader

summary : you have a teenage girl level crush on him, that you and zack talk (very loudly) about when you think no one can hear. but he does.

a/n : this takes place pre-nibelheim so everyone is happy and well! in honour of ff7 rebirth :)

“Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” You snap your jaw shut, eyes moving to glare at the young, dark haired boy who has decided to break your daydream. 

“It wasn’t even open.” He plops down beside you, shoulder touching yours. 

“Mhm.. and you weren’t drooling over our superior.” 

“Your superior,” you correct, eyebrow lifted with pointed sarcasm. If you could stick your tongue out at him, without it seeming childish to everyone around you, you would.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a first class soldier either,” He points out, amused. Your elbow makes contact with his arm, and his hand reaches to cover the area as he laughs.

Zack was younger than you, though he certainly never acted like there was an age gap. In his mind, you were the same age as him in some way or another. You had always trained together so you felt much closer in age even though you were at least 3 years older than him. At times, he felt like a younger brother to you.

Even more so when he found out you had a crush on the man he spent everyday training beside. Constant teasing, constant threats to spill your secrets, constant blackmail. You couldn’t even count the amount of times he had used your crush to his advantage on one hand. 

There was a time you had to put your foot down and tell him no more, cause it was wrong of course. But also mostly cause you were running out of money to buy his silence.

“Yeah but I'm older, closer to his age. So I don't have to talk to him like I'm below him, unlike some people.” 

“Can you even talk to him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then why are you sitting here staring..?” 

“He’s training..” 

“Mhm.” The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. Right now, it was the truth, Sephiroth was swinging his sword in the domed combat simulator, glass walls clear enough for you to see through. So the excuse of not being able to talk to him, out of fear of being sliced in half by his giant sword, was plausible. 

But any other time that you had sat staring at him, making no effort to speak to him, rendered that excuse inapplicable. 

“Shut it..” You push his shoulder with your elbow once more, and he snorts out a laugh. 

“I don’t get why you can’t just talk to him..” 

“Of course you don’t.. because you're obviously blind. Or you’ve been hit in the head one too many times in combat training.” You turn your gaze away from Zack to look back through the glass enclosing Sephiroth. 

His hair is tied up, hanging loosely against his back. It’s a rare sight, so you indulge yourself and stare a second longer than you should. It’s so relaxed, you think, compared to the seriousness of always having it pristinely down. There are stray hairs, flyaways, falling from the hair tie and hanging against his face. It’s unkempt, a nice contrast to his seemingly perfect lifestyle.

He swings his sword with calculated grace, a grace that you (or Zack for that matter) had yet to achieve. The control he held over his blade was impeccable, it never slipped or moved from his hold even when his hands were moving faster than his body could keep up with. Just another thing that had to be perfect in his life.

“How could I ever speak to him and not make a fool out of myself? For one, he’s first class, I'd totally ruin my chances of making first class if I said something totally outrageous. And knowing me, my mind would be so jumbled, I wouldn't even realize the words had left my mouth before he put me on some kind of ‘do not promote’ list.” 

“Oh so.. the only reason you won’t talk to him is because you're worried about making first class? Not.. I don’t know, maybe, the 12-year-old-girl-level crush you have on him.” Your hand slaps over his lips, eyes scanning around you. For the most part, no one looks at the two of you, and you figure the ones that are looking are doing so because of your hand covering Zacks blabbermouth. 

“Would you shut it?” Even with your hand covering his mouth, he manages to laugh at your widened eyes. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are a dead giveaway of his amusement. You remove your hand with a pointed look, one that says ‘keep it down’ in a far more subtle way than a hand over his face. 

“You’re so lucky you’re younger than me.” 

“More like so lucky you don’t want to make your boyfriend angry. Besides, you know I’m stronger than you.” 

“Mhm..” You roll your eyes, and with a sigh, you turn back to face Sephiroth. He stands still now and you realize all of the practice dummies have been broken. From your position, he doesn't even seem to have broken a sweat, even though he’s been in there for over an hour. His sword lies on the ground, thrown without care. 

Even with Zack beside you, and the silent teasing that exudes from his body, your eyes remain trained on Sephiroth. You realize it’s childish, to stare and never approach, but the idea of even standing next to him is enough to intimidate you. 

He runs his hand over his back, pulling the hair tie from his hair, allowing it to fall against his shoulders once more. He turns, presumably to leave the combat simulated, and his eyes meet yours through the glass. You knew your staring wasn’t subtle, it had never been before, but you had never expected to get caught. You had never been caught. 

You turn your head away so fast that Zack almost flinches, probably thinking you were going to hit him again. 

“Jesus,” he looks at you with confusion, “What’s the problem?” 

“He saw me.” 

“What?” 

“He saw me! Through the glass! He totally caught me staring at him..” You stare at Zack with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, before you head falls into your lap in shame.

“Would you relax? I guarantee he doesn’t care or he didn’t even see you. Maybe he was just looking at his reflection.”

You look back towards Sephiroth to see him leaving through the doors of the dome, and then you turn back to Zack with a pitiful whine. 

“This is so pathetic…” 

“I agree,” he smiles when you shoot him a glare, “Just talk to him.” 

“Talk to who?” A deep voice sounds from beside you, higher up than where you sit. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stick up, and Zack's expression is enough to confirm your suspicion about who stands next to you. 

You turn your head to face Sephiroth, and he stares at you expectantly. You think you catch the slightest smirk building on the corner of his lips, but you also think you might just be trying to make yourself feel better. Standing, nowhere close to his height, you hold your hands up. Zack takes this as his sign to stand too. 

“Nobody! Angeal!” You fumble out words, trying to throw out a name before he grows suspicious. 

“Well which is it, nobody? or Angeal?” 

“Angeal. Yeah! Angeal, so.. um.. I should probably go find him.” 

“It just so happens that I have to find Angeal too, allow me to join you.” 

You want to throw the nearest chair at Zack, curse him for speaking so loudly. And you curse yourself for not thinking of an excuse in a reasonable time frame, so you just nod, and excuse yourself from Zack. 

He gives you a pitiful smile, and when you turn to look behind you for support one last time as you walk away he gives you a thumbs up. His face contradicts his hands, and he seems like he’s in a far less teasing mood. 

“Whatever you have to say to him, it must be important.” 

“Hm?” You tilt your head up and to the side to look at Sephiroth, you’ve been walking together for a few minutes now, mostly silently. 

“You're walking fast.” You shrug your shoulders and continue walking. 

At least until your steps are interrupted by him stepping in front of you. 

“Is there a problem?”

“What? Of course not!” He practically glares down at you, arms crossed over his muscular chest. You can see the outline of his defined chest muscles through the straps of his top. And you realize you're practically drooling over him, right in front of him so you force your eyes to meet his once more. But his glare is replaced by a smirk, and amusement in his eyes. 

“I see now..” 

“See what?” 

“Really? Do you think you’re subtle?” Your face flushes and once again you want the floor to open up and consume you whole, but you're stuck here. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Step back, you scream at yourself, but he moves closer and it’s impossible to move your feet. They feel like lead underneath you, not even giving way to a small shuffle backwards.

“No?” His hand reaches up to rest on your cheek, it's gentle, far gentler than you would’ve expected. But the way his fingers tense against your skin has you feeling fuzzy, “You think I don’t notice the way you stare? Hm?” 

He stares at you, thumb moving to the other side of your chin, holding your face in his hand. He maneuvers your face, moving it however he likes. You realize he’s examining the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part like you want to say something. His tongue gives a humiliating click when your lips close, and the words are lost. 

“I hear you, when you talk to Zack,” he stops his movement, stilling your face to look directly at him, “You’ve never been a quiet girl. Why are you so quiet now?” 

When you don’t respond his eyebrows scrunch, its subtle and almost missable because it’s gone in seconds. He’s not satisfied by your silence.

Sephiroth bends his shoulders, moving closer to your face, “Although, I suppose you’ve never been very talkative around me.” He moves closer still, swerving his nose to the side of your face until he’s able to speak in your ear, “That’s not very nice. You might hurt my feelings if you keep ignoring me.” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out meekly, you're honestly not even sure it’s audible at first but he laughs quietly, breath fanning on your ear. His other hand, the one that doesn’t hold your face, reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he pulls away. The breath that leaves your body is almost embarrassing. 

“What’re you sorry for, hm?” He stares expectantly down at you, eyes never leaving yours. 

“F…for ignoring you.”

“So you ignore me?” 

“No!”

“So you’re lying?” You shake your head as much as you can within the hold of his fingers, “Then what are you sorry for?” 

“For not talking to you.” 

“And why don’t you talk to me, I'm sure you know it’s rude to stare and never speak to someone.”

“Because..” His grip loosens, hand moving back to your cheek, thumb resting on your cheek bone. 

“Because why? Cmon use your voice, the one you use to talk about me with Zack.” 

You stare up at him pitifully, and the way words fumble from your mouth has you wanting to throw up, “Because I have this stupid crush on you, and I can't talk to you without getting nervous. I know it’s stupid and I should have told you sooner so you could reject me and I could move on and I never meant to offend you or-”

You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close until his nose touches yours, top lip brushing against yours as he tips your chin up towards him. Your words fall flat on your tongue when you meet his eyes, or rather when you see his eyes that are focused on your lips. 

“Offend me.. that’s sweet..” He’s so close to you, that every word has his lips brushing against your own again and again. 

“Sephiroth..?” You suppress the urge to move the tiniest bit forward so your lips can fully meet his. And you're sure your face is impossibly red. 

“You should’ve told me about this ‘stupid’ crush sooner, such a foolish girl. May I?” You're confused, what is he asking for? His eyes flicker up to yours before moving back to your lips. When you realize what he means you nod your head perhaps too eagerly. 

Slowly, to tease, his lips press against yours, palm pressing into the skin of yours to keep you in place. Eyes fluttering closed, your hands find his chest, silently screaming about the position you’ve found yourself in.

His lips overpower yours in every regard, moving languidly against you. His other hand reaches up to the free side of your face, fingers tickling the skin on your neck and thumb resting on your jaw. 

When he pulls away you can only look at him with half lidded eyes, dazed. 

Al he does is chuckle, rubbing your cheek with his thumb and patting your head. One hand holds the back of your head, leaning down to kiss your temple, before stepping behind you, “Don’t be so shy from now on. Maybe we’ll end up here again.”

His steps echo through the empty hall as he walks away.

“Wait… wait.. I thought you had to go see Angeal?” You turn, taking one step in his direction, then stopping yourself in your tracks hesitantly. 

“I didn’t. And I know you didn’t either.” He only turns his cheek towards you to speak and then continues on down the hallway, tall and brooding.

[paithology]

𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙎𝙀𝙓 ☆ ݁ ⋆

- What it's like to wake up next to your loving boyfriend.

Content warnings: Overstimulation, breeding, cnc

Men who appreciate every day they get to wake up to your gorgeous face and just love sharing a bed with you overall. Making sure your pussy is easily accessible to him at all times.

Every morning, the only thought that plagues his mind is your tank top stuck to your skin, exposing your nipples, the flush of your ass against your lacy panties, and the desperate look on your face when you wake up. It gives him a throbbing urge to sink his cock into your pussy.

He’d start with his hands wandering everywhere. from his arms wrapped around your waist to gripping your ass and rubbing you through your panties. 

Pulling them to the side to reveal your wet pussy. The feeling of his cock teasing your folds before he slides his cock in makes you whimper.

He can’t help but groan when your juices flow out as he pushes inside of you. You're just so wet. He loves fucking you from the side because it only makes his thrust deeper, hitting your spot every time.

He tries to silence your cries by shoving his tongue down your throat as you babble and whine about how you can't take much more. Your eyes are filling with pleasurable tears, and your mouth is welling with drool from overstimulation from the way the head of his cock hits your sweet spot nonstop.

He rubs small circles onto your clit, ass swaying from the sheer force of his hips. He begins to get so lost in the feeling of your pussy that he fucks you till he can’t stop. Fucking you through your orgasm His head is in the crook of your neck as he groans at the feeling of you clenching down on his overly sensitive tip.

After what feels like hours, you're reaching back to grip his hair, eyes rolled back. Just begging for him to fill you up again.

Suguru Geto , Choso Kamo, Yuta Okkotsu, Aki Hayakawa, Renji Abarai, Reno Sinclar

Work of: Paige, do not copy.

[meiluu]

omg omg omg I've got an idea!! So... mean and demanding Cloud when he was controlled by Sephiroth?? Like you know how he's usually so nice and soft during that time... well now he's the opposite? I mean only if you're comfortable with it of course

I love this idea and, so here's a little something that came to mind after reading this...

CW: SMUT 18+, a bit dark, Angst, Cloud isn't fully there and his actions are being influenced by Sephiroth. smut below the cut. *NOT EDITED*

Cloud your sweet boyfriend, who could be a bit icy on the outside but when he's with you that icy nature melts and underneath that layer is a young man who craves your love like he needs air. Wholly devoted to you, his heart handed to you for safe keeping forevermore.

But with the threat of the planet and the loaming shadow of sephiroth, cloud has been...different to say the least. Quick to give into his anger and frustration, especially on the battlefield. Acting strangely towards some of the other members in your merry little group. You had thought that maybe it would lessen over time, but it only seem to do the opposite. But even with all of this you made it clear to cloud that you were there for him, yet he seemed to brush you off nodding absentmindedly.

It hurt you to say the least, but you held strong and continued to remain by his side. And your efforts seemed to be paying off, slowly cloud had begun to seek you out after battles and when he needed your comforting.

Although this time seemed different from others, his mako infused eyes held an emotion that had your hair standing up on end.

A muffled cry of pleasure leaves you as Cloud continues his near brutal thrusts. On your knees with your head partially buried into your pillow, you can feel Clouds strong and unyielding grip on your hips as he ruts into you like he was a starved animal. When he had come to you after another day of fighting monsters as they followed the trial towards Sephiroth, you had expected a typical cuddle session or made some soft sex to come down from the stressful day. Not this.

Its not that you didn't like this, it was just something Cloud had never really done. He always took his time with you, relishing in your shared time together. And even when he did get a bit carried away you could always feel the love with his actions or with his pleasure filled words.

"Cloud- too much I-" your words are hard to get out with your moans breaking them up. Hands gripping into the sheets as you lift your head turning it to the side to see Cloud. Eyes focusing in on his gorgeous face, his eyes are locked onto where his cock is thrusting in and out of your cunt. His eyes rise to meet yours, pupils blown wide at the view in front of him. A smirk crawls onto his face, then he is moving his hands from your hips to beside yours that are still gripping onto the sheets. "You can take it, you were made for this- For me." His near patronizing words are barely registered with the new angle he has you in. Cock going so deep hitting the spots within you that had the breath leaving your lungs in a moaned cry. One calloused hand of Cloud clasps onto one of yours while the other goes underneath your chin. Acting as a makeshift collar, turning your head towards his. Mako gazing piercing yours.

"You're mine, this-" a thrust accentuates his words cock bullying itself deeper into your orgasming cunt, "is only for me. So perfect just for me."

[ariseur]

hii !! first of all i love ur profile and the entire theme. i initially came here from ur other account and checked out some of ur rules on here. i really like ur writing n was wondering if u could do a soft smut fic w cloud from ff ? obviously during the ages of him being above 20. i have a small scenario in which cloud goes over to readers house, apartment, or wherever theyre staying etc after a fight. it ends up with reader cleaning him up and stiching whatever injuries he has before reader takes the initiative to comfort cloud w praises and (suggestive) care. i noticed u weren't too keen on nsfw and obv i dnt want anything too extreme with the nsfw either perhaps js an indication smth happens. apart from that there's not much else i have unless u need me to support more details which im gladly happy to <33

melt into you | 2.2k words | light nsfw / slight sub!cloud

a certain feeling sneaks up on cloud when he crosses the threshold into your apartment, something warm and wiry, like molten clouds meeting sky. maybe it’s because of the fact that he can still smell the fresh flowers you had managed to get from aerith yesterday sitting on your table, the same ones that sink into your bloodstream, creeps into your breath, rooted within your hair.

or maybe it’s the fact that his shaky hand’s pressed up against the gash in his side.

cloud hisses, shutting the door quietly; in fear that you may be asleep. but if he really thought you were asleep, would he be coming to your apartment unannounced anyways? nonetheless, it’s a thought soon swept under a mental rug with the burning sensation of his wound getting worse by the second.

legs like lead, his sword feels heavier than before and with a grunt, he lifts his head to the sight of a familiar hair color and intrigued eyes. droopy, with a hand coming up to rub the sleep away from them.

“cloud?” you ask, drowsily.

his breath hitches. not asleep.

he gives a small hum in response, soon cut short with a deep breath in as he surveys your room — searching for anything of use to his situation. your head perks up, following his wandering eyes.

you prop yourself up on your elbows, blinking until your vision manages to settle. cloud’s lips twitch fondly at the sight, for the few seconds his eyes linger on you. “what do you need?” you ask.

“gauze, bandages — anything, really,” he says. his voice doesn’t sound so different as per normal, but if you strain your eyes ever so carefully, you can hear the ribbed noise of his breathing, traversing up his lungs in heavy bouts. you sigh through your nose and swing your legs over the edge of your bed, ignoring the cheap screws that screech in the process.

cloud’s head jerks over to you at the noise. a habit he’s never chased away. the hardwood’s cool beneath your bare feet, goosebumps blooming on your calves as your sleep shorts aren’t very warm without the safe haven of your bed. you walk over to the corner of the room, eye catching on the flower on your wooden desk; a cherry-pink peony bright and yearning to be looked upon, before you go and rummage in the box under said desk.

his eyes fall on a specific bruise starting to blossom on the sliver of skin peeking through the area between your sleep shirt and shorts, right on your hip bone, the one you’re always bumping against the doorway when you’re in a rush following him out the door. he only knows this because he always hears a small, “ow!” between gritted teeth before the sets of pitter-patter that follow.

shirt loosely hanging of your shoulder, hair tousled, he watched as you lazily dig through the box and thinks against the thought of urging you to go faster as his wound possibly couldn’t get any worse.

his mouth parts but before he can manage to get a word out, he sees you lift your hand in the air with a groggy, “ta-da!” and a roll of bandages clutched in your grasp. his lips fasten, before you look back at him; eyes creased softly with your dazed, close-lipped smile you give him.

he huffs, biting back a wince at the action. “ta-da? what are you, six?”

“seven, actually,” you tease. gathering the supplies, you get off the floor and make your way back to the bed, hooking a finger into cloud’s turtleneck to bring him closer, much to his pained dismay. his hands itchy with the sticky crimson that cultivates and starts to dry against the creases in his palm, and he swears he feels a little nauseous. not that he’d ever tell you, of course.

“now,” you smile, placing the rest of the items on your table with a soft thunk. “let’s get you patched up.”

he nods wordlessly, putting his sword against the foot of your bed before he sits on it. it feels like cardboard, although he knows you both won’t get any better as long as you’re in the slums. seeing the spool of thread and the bottle of disinfectant with its label haphazardly peeling off, his brows furrow fractionally.

“you sure you know how to do this?”

“cloud, how many times have i patched you up?”

he shakes his head. “doesn’t mean you know how to do it.”

you roll your eyes to his annoyance, slotting yourself between his legs as you slowly take a peek behind what his hand hides; a dark, bloody mess with the turtleneck adhering to his body. he wonders if you know how much it stings. he has a feeling you do, only because you grimace the sight, eyes softening up at him almost pitifully.

(his face blooms with heat. he must be getting a fever with how long you’re taking.)

you help him get his armor off, fingers careful to undo the clasps and get it off before you look down at his bottoms and boots. he almost chuckles at the way your face twists, going to your chest full of clothes before throwing him a pair of sweatpants and turning around.

“you— can change. . i won’t look,” you say, crossing your arms.

“i’m good,” he says. you whip around and scowl at him, explaining how he won’t be leaving anytime soon, how he might as well get comfortable. cloud thinks for a moment, looking down at the sweats in his hand before he goes to unzip his boots. you turn back around as he toes them off, letting them rest against the floor next to your bed.

you tap your foot and wait for him to be done, trying to pretend you don’t hear the rustling of clothes and soft hisses of pain he makes when he gets too close to the wound. you wait for the “you can look, now,” and turn back around, tilting your head when you see him shirtless.

“oh, uhm — okay.”

a pause. a very long pause, the tips of your ears burning with your words burning in the caves of your mind — until a low chuckle slips past cloud’s lips. it’s a little quiet one, though almost like he’s teasing you. you let out a small nervous laugh of your own, grabbing the roll of bandages and cloth before swooping in to patch him up.

“i feel bad for your patients,” he says, strained with the stings of the needle. you’re hard at work, meticulously weaving the thread through pale skin, paired with a rainbow trail of colors left along his oblique.

“i’m doing it, aren’t i?” you mutter, a hand settling on his abdomen to keep his breathing steady. . . even when his heart sputters at the gesture. you thumb at the ridges of his bones mindlessly, tracing the rib soothingly as the needle dips once more. his head tips back and he exhales sharply, his hands gripping onto the material of the pants.

“you’re okay. you’re okay,” you coo, taking a small break from stitching him up. looking up at him, you watch as his eyes scrunch shut uncomfortably. “i’m almost done, i swear.” a hand comes up to his white knuckle grip, and he resists the urge to move away, the warmth of your palm on his.

“can you just keep going?” he asks, peeking an eye open and leering down at you. his tactics never deter you, though — you always keep going.

a soft smile and a rub of his knuckle before you go back to threading the last two stitches, wiping away the excess blood. he huffs when you finally disconnect the string and place the spool back on the desk. you wipe the scar one last time before sitting back on your haunches, admiring your work as cloud does the same.

“feel okay?” you ask, and he swears his heart’ll palpitate if you look up at him like that again.

“yeah, i guess,” he mutters, thumb rubbing along the stitch as he looks away. your gaze is heavy though, like a loaded gun — and he wants to tell you to knock it off, only to end up finding himself squirming at your eyes. maybe it’s just the discomfort of the bandages, though.

you eye the alarm clock that sits on your desk, green numbers illuminated the otherwise dark room, save for the dim lamp that bleeds warmth into the room and seeps along the cracks of your walls. it’s pretty late, you note, and you feign a tired sigh and sit next to him on the bed, thighs touching each other as you flop back on the mattress.

“waking me up for all of that,” you drag out all the syllables, and a fake yawn slowly morphs into a real one.

a puff of air escapes through cloud’s nose. “was gonna do it myself, y’know,” he says. “i don’t need you to do everything for me.”

an exasperated sigh, before you rise back up from your position and face the man, who looks at you skeptically. “what if i wanna do things for you?” you sleepily grin.

he shoots you a confused look, even if the comment may make his fingertips tingle. “it— it doesn’t matter, you patched me up anyway,” he responds. “thanks,” he coughs out.

his fingers curl up the sweatpants, bunching the cotton material with uneven nails as he ignores how they suddenly cling onto his ankles, just a little too short and it makes all the more difference. you’re inched just a little closer than he’d like you to be, and it makes all the more difference.

“you don’t have to do everything by yourself, though,” you say. he feels the back of his throat go dry, can feel his blood sing as he looks at you with big eyes.

“do you—“ he presses his lips together, thinking his words over a bit more carefully than he normally would. his voice goes low, that warmth creeping up on him again when he looks back at your eyes; tired and soft. “. . . want to do everything with me?”

it sounds corny, he knows it and he’s sure you know it, too, with the way you smile — but when it finally registers that you’re smiling, it doesn’t sound so bad.

“will you let me?”

the question practically shatters his psyche and he doesn’t even get the chance to reel the words back in before they spill from his lips.

“yes,” he blurts. the eagerness in his voice makes him cringe, and yet you lean in for a kiss anyway. lips melding with his, you linger for a bit before pulling away, looking back up and meeting azure eyes with a pair of your own; starlight shielded behind a layer of fatigue.

his hand finds its way on your hip bone, soothing the yellowing bruise he remembered you have. you kiss the corner of his lips, slowly shifting closer to him. another kiss, and this time, to the tip of his nose. another shift. another kiss, the cycle continues until you’re hovering over his lap, gently sitting down and pulling away from your kisses for a moment when you hear him inhale sharply.

you teasingly smile. “what’s wrong?”

he gives a small huff of amusement. “i think you brushed against my stitches.”

your face heats up with a raise of your brows. “oh! oh! i am— oh, i am so sorry,” you ramble, placing cool, gentle fingers against his abdomen. at his hand wave of dismissal, you continue, “are you— did i do a good job with the stitches?”

he nods, the tiniest smirk on his face as he looks down on you. “i guess, so.”

your beam’s worth it and you lean in, barely stopping with the way your lips brush against each other. “thanks. i think you did a good job, too.”

he tilts his head at you, face dropping as yours comes closer to him. “you’re weird,” he says, the last syllable cut short when you press your lips against his. with a shaky exhale, his fingers come up to grasp at the material of your sleep shirt with the slow rhythm your lips move in.

cloud strife, a stray cat baptized in a pool of love, howling from the rooftops to let the neighborhood know the beauty it saw while nearly drowning in the affection it settles in — and though not religious, the best hymn cloud knows is the sound of your name.

the slow rock of your hips against his makes him squirm and he momentarily breaks the kiss to grit his teeth, trying his damndest to keep the noises from slipping out. you hum lowly, lazily grinding against him with a hand on the back of his neck to bring him even closer than before; teeth gently bumping together as his tongue peeks out.

cloud can love but he loves softer than anybody else you know. his love spills out in tender streams and it shows in the little moments like these rather than grand gestures. gentle brushes of your pinkies alongside one another, soft humps against each other in the solitude of your own room.

even in moments where you can’t see it, where you’re too enveloped in the throes of your own passion to notice the way he gazes at you; he can only hope you understand the sheer worth of the love he holds for you. it’s always shining on you, ready to embrace you — you just have to let go and let it.

taglist ; @xiansiii @alieeelinn @ch3rryfiles @akerasia @meowieesilly

requests are open — april eighth, 2025

[c0smoshit]

Heyyy!

Was wondering if I could request a Cloud x reader? Where basically reader is playing Mario Party w/ Tifa, Jessie, Aerith and he’s sitting and watching but after a few hours of it wants to just go snuggle and read some books in bed w/ reader, so that’s what he does?

Ty in advance and sending hugs!

This is so cute!!

Thanks for the req and hugs to u too🫶🫶

Touch-starved kid ミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ fluff, very much fluff, cuddly and touch-starved Cloud

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠��𝕟𝕥 ≫ 1.300

"Noo!"

A loud whine emerged from Jessie's mouth, Peach had crashed against a green shell. Low chuckles could be heard from both Aerith and your mouth, she was always so competitive.

Silence fell once again in the room, concentrated faces matched with a bored one from a blonde, watching the TV.

You had been playing for almost two hours now, Aerith whining about how she had to beat you the next game. Tifa on the other hand, silently won half of the matches, earning some muttered out curses from the rest of you.

"You don't wanna play Cloud?"

A hushed groan left his lips, staring down at you from his seated position. You had offered him the space next to you, but Jessie was quick enough to steal it.

And you didn't mind, Jessie was actually a sweetheart with you. She often gave you advice of boys, how to read if they were into you or not.

And it weirdly worked with him.

The other brunnete's arm sneaked into your shoulder, bringing you down to the planet. You stared back at her face and then at the screen, your hands still holding the controller.

"Where are you going y/n?"

Red eyes stared confusedly at you as you got rid of the arm that trapped you into a warm embrace. You wanted to stay for a bit, playing with them was always so fun after stressful weeks.

However, your body noticed the lack of coldness in the corner of the room.

"I'll be back soon, I'm going... to the bathroom yeah"

A few more snickers lingered in the room before some quiet yelps and curses filled it once again.

Your socks touched the cold, winter floor, eyes searching around for a grumpy blonde. The hall was dimly-lighted, some cute flowers resting on top of a wooden table.

But that adorable little moment turned into a frenzy one as some arms wrapped themselves around your middle part. Your yell was muffled by a gloved hand, his chest being the first thing that made you realise who was holding you.

"Cloud!"

His hand then left your mouth, chin making contact with the crown of your hair. Your hands grabbed his forearms, letting out a breathy sigh.

"Don't scare me like that you idiot"

You could feel a little smirk burning into his face, arms tightening around your waist as he guided you through the house.

. . .

"What's got you so clingy hmm?"

"You"

His voice was muffled by your chest, head tilted to the right as he laid on top of you. His arms were both bellow your back, not caring if he got cramps thanks to it.

He looked so peaceful, a child who only lived fueled by your arms and warm body.

Your back rested on the fluffy pillows behind you, knees appart as his stomach rested on your lap. Your feet rested by his sides and your hands softly caressed his locks.

You looked outside the window, it was currently winter and you felt a scorching warmth enveloping your insides. You felt so cozy and calm on the warm mattress, but his body on top of you multiplied those feelings.

His touch was featherlike, always managing to boost your mood whenever you were mad at him.

You couldn't have a proper argument with him, no matter how hard you tried to distance yourself from him, yell at him. His hands were always soothing your back.

"Hold on, I'll be back"

But his arms trapped you further into the mattress, not letting you slip off his embrace so easily. His body weight was all resting on top of you like it would always do whenever he was feeling down or tired and you were there with him.

A few more silent whines left his mouth when you, struggling, got his arms finally off you and planted your feet back on the wooden floor.

You gave his saddened face a pleading smile before you dissapeared once again into the hall.

If you were a stranger and looked at him in the eye, you would've thought that boy was cold.

But in reality, he was just a touch-starved kid.

Your fingertips grazed a bookshelf, pupils trying to find a red book surrounded by colorful books Aerith liked to read. You enjoyed meeting up with her and talking about flowers, forgetting just for a few minutes what was happening in the planet.

She knew everything about them, her tone changing whenever she talked to you about tulips or roses.

She was the whiff of fresh air you needed in a polluted city.

Subconciously you smiled at those memories, you loved spending time with her and the girls. A relief from work and the tasks you had to do through the day, soothing hands that massaged your warm shoulders after an stressful journey.

You wouldn't know where you'd be right now without them.

You let out an audible sigh as your hands caressed the soft cover of your favourite book. You liked the smell of fresh books, reading them while you stayed up at night.

With your new friend, you walked your way back into the room, ready to cuddle for as long as he pleased.

However, when you opened the door again, he wasn't laying down on the bed, instead, he was waiting for you the way you were laying on the pillows earlier.

And before you could even mutter out a "Hi" his arms were all over you again, dragging you down to his chest. You took his seat now, your hair sprawled out on his chest and shoulders as your book ended up falling on your lap.

You giggled, happiness filling up his sore brain, he adored your little chuckles. Readjusting yourself on his lap, you two were now sat on the bed, his bigger legs enveloped your closed ones, side by side.

You couldn't even hide the big, pleasured grin that was now placed on your sweet lips.

Did a huge, cuddly dog swaped bodies with Cloud?

Well, you didn't mind if he actually did, you were more than happy to see this secret facade. Maybe if life would let you have more alone time with him you wouldn't need to seek out his warmth in cold, lonely afternoons.

You both were quiet, consumed by the endless words in front of you as he leant his nose further into your hair. He would never say it out loud, but you had him crazy for you just by your sweet scent.

The first thing that woke up his brain whenever you walked into a room, whenever you washed the dishes with him.

Then your calm tone would envelope his eardrums, it always soothed him down.

And finally your adorable eyes, eyelashes batting so cutely at him, blinking whenever you were confused.

You sinked deeper into the pleasant but icy night, the words now seemed to be blurred out. Your eyelids grew heavy and the grip you had on the book softened, a car passed by.

When your limbs appeared to weigh more, he took the book from your lap, smiling when your hands didn't take it away from him. You had fallen asleep on top of him, was his body that comfortable?

It sure was, although he didn't seem to in most people's eyes, he was really strong. The muscles he packed bellow his skin were the perfect pillow, his arms the best blanket.

Your personal warm tent.

Eventually his eyes closed themselves too, breathing slowing itself down as his head lolled into your own one. You both looked so cute right now, not noticing the door creaking and some small giggles following behind.

[frickingnerd]

covering up our love

pairing: zack fair x gn!reader

summary: zack gives you a hickey, despite the two of you trying to keep your relationship a secret...

“zaaack–!”

your boyfriend knew he was in trouble when he heard you say his name like that. he had lost himself in his little make out session with him and before he knew it, he had lightly bit your neck, only to now leave some very hard to miss marks.

“i told you to be careful! do you know how much trouble i'll be in if anyone sees those? what if they realize that you were the one who gave me those?”

zack knew he should've been more careful. your relationship with him was a secret and for good reasons. if the higher ups knew you were dating, they wouldn't let you work together anymore. and seeing you everyday at work was one of zack's highlights.

“h-hey, look at me–!” zack pulled away from you and smiled, trying to reassure you. “it'll be alright! we can find a way to cover that up and nobody will notice a thing. i promise!”

[bubbles-laughs-imagines]

FLuff Prompt Drabble #1:

"Did you just laugh?"

"No, I didnt."

˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡˚꩜

Cloud Strife x Reader

˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡˚꩜

When the sound met your ears your hands stiffed and you stared at him. Your sparkly eyes were in disbelief and a grin stretched across her features.

"Did you just laugh?"

At the mention of it, he turned away and crossed his arms over his chest.

"No, I didnt.", his voice was gruff and somewhat upset, a contrast to the light and clear chuckle from just moments before. You wanted to hear it again. You walked up to him, his back was still turned towards you, and placed your hands against his back. He stiffened.

"You didnt? I was sure I had heard it."

"Must've been your imagination."

"Oh really?", your fingers gently pressed into the muscles of his back and then began to gently, slowly stride towards his side. He immediately knew what your plan was, but you were not going to tickle him tonight. He swiftly pulled you into his grasp while you laughed.

You didnt think you were going to loose this battle against the former SOLDIER, were you?

[xxladyballadxx]

Lovebites

❥ Vincent Valentine x (Fem) Reader ❥

♡ SMUT ♡ 🚫MINORS DNI🚫 ♡ Wordcount: 475 words ♡

❥ Note: This fanfiction is not connected to the events from the game. ❥

❥ Summary: Vincent is very hungry for you and so he decided to fuck the brains out of you, wanting to feed on you as he makes love to you in bed. ❥

⟡ dividers : @saradika-graphics ⟡

Your beloved Vincent threw you on the bed aggressively, his beastly growl causing your whole body to tense up in such a wild swift of sensation as he pinned your wrists down to the silky sheets. His crimson bright eyes are feasting on you. “W-what are you going to do to me?” You whimpered, your voice felt shaky but it was not out of fear or anything like that. The way you spoke in a softly tender manner caused Vincent to make such a low growl as he pressed down his lips onto your neck, sucking it hard and deep. His deadly yet sweet kisses burning your skin, Vincent’s desire to taste you firing in excitement. 

Vincent dominantly stripped your clothing off before taking off his whole black attire along with his red cloak and throwing them towards the side. He slid his finger into your weak spot causing you to groan, twisting your opening  as he asked with that sexy voice of his, “Does that feel good to you, (Y/n)?” 

“Y-yes..” you croaked, whining. Feeling his finger curling around inside of you. To satisfy him more, Vincent placed another finger in you, wanting to spice things up. You made an arousing noise, your sweating body warming up. Vincent cracked a devilish smirk, he collided his body onto hers inserting his hard cock through your anus. Your hands whipped out onto his back, moaning loudly as he entered your whole paradise. You inched your head to the side to let Vincent suck onto your neck with kisses, marking you. All fell into a blur, your throbbing head began to wander elsewhere feeling your insides being devoured by Vincent’s long ass thick cock. 

“V-Vincent!..ahh!..fuck!..” Calling out his name in such a shameless manner got him all fired up, the music coming out of that horny mouth of yours brought more satisfaction to his needs. “That’s right, you little minx. Scream my name and let the entire world know that you belong to me!” Giving a good hard smack to your buttcheeks, Vincent gripped your lower body while his cock is still trapped inside your anus. You felt your whole body rocking hard, your breasts bouncing wildly. Vincent sunk his fangs onto your neck once more, marking your skin more with lovebites. 

Reaching towards your heavy climax, you moaned to Vincent telling him that you’re about to cum. As he slowly whipped out his dick away from your wet ass vagina, you heard a squirm of white fresh warm milk releasing, caressing against your sweating skin. Vincent gave a long slow panting, his body colliding on top of yours. He grasped your hand and kissed the back of it, “...I love you..” 

A hot stream of tears poured down towards your red dotted cheeks, your arms wrapping him into the warming embrace, “Love you too, my love..” 

a/n - IM SUCH A SHAMELESS LADY WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING SMUT FANFICS/DRABBLES XD ALSO VINCENT IS A BIT OF OCC IN THIS ONE SO YEAH....

STILL SHITE AT WRITING SMUTS BUT HONTESTLY I DON'T GIVE F*CK ANYMORE

HOPE YOU ALL LIKE THIS YOU HORNY ASS B*TCHES

XOXO

[crisiscutie]

the reunion...is nothing to fear.

Pairing: Pregnant Darling/"Fluffy" Sephiroth

Word Count: 680

Content Warning: Psychological/Emotional Abuse.

The grandfather clock ticked away as Sephiroth traced the stretch marks of your swollen belly. He used his other hand to work the tension out of your back as you kept your focus on the clock. Judging by the time, your triplet boys aren't done with school yet. Few more hours. If only you could turn time faster. But it doesn't matter. The man you were trying to escape from has now invaded your new, lovely home, humming his favorite lullaby as you sat on his lap. Your new, lovely home, now corrupted by his presence. Maybe that's why your unborn child is kicking so much now; for you to get away from him.

Yet there was something peculiar about the way his hold on you felt. It's gentle and loving, but also constricting and possessive. You're almost like a poor fly caught in a spider's web. The spider is just waiting for the right moment to feast.

Despite the effort and hard work you put into escaping with your triplet boys, it amounted to nothing. Signs of Sephiroth's presence were always around you; Your precious boys kept asking about those strange dark feathers around your new home, their school, and even in other places, like your favorite grocery store. They wanted to know when their father would stop playing games. But you simply brushed it off, telling them that their father wouldn't be joining you all soon. They were confused, sad even, but they understood the hint to drop the subject. You hated saying that to them yourself, but it was necessary.

The dark feathers you saw were some of the many invitations to the reunion that you ignored. And now, this is fate. Your precious, innocent boys will become like their father. You still loved Sephiroth, but you could never love the path he took. His relentless slaughter of innocents and confining you all in his so-called "tower of love". That's why you had to get away from him. You tried your best, but this is where your "best" landed you.

Your baby's movements grew more forceful as he stopped tracing your stretch marks. He whispered into your ear with that same charming, velvety voice, but you knew it wasn't his old self. He still had that dark look around his slit eyes and a dangerous edge to his voice. You knew that his heart still beats for his family, but it's forever enshrouded in darkness.

"I wonder," he asked, "what name have you chosen for her?" Your dull eyes darted to your covered patio door, watching the rays of the beautiful sunlight slightly retract. You should have opened more windows when you returned from grocery shopping. You're amazed that you could still see in this gloomy and dark setting. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing your voice. But his question weighed heavily on your mind. It's true, you hadn't considered a name for your unborn child, let alone knew that it was going to be a girl. Your unexpected pregnancy with this little one almost deterred you from making your getaway with the triplets, but you pressed on. In the coming weeks, you were so focused on getting away from Sephiroth, you've neglected almost everything else. You didn't even have to turn around to see that his lips curled into a smirk, almost like he knew what you were thinking. His lips pressed against your ear, speaking in a lower, ominous voice.

"...JENOVA... A fine name for her."

Your eyes had widened at both his voice and his declaration. Naming your child after a dead family member wasn't unusual, but something about it had made your heart race. Your baby had ceased her kicking as his hold on you had grown slightly more constricting. Gazing weakly at the grandfather clock, you had realized that not much time had passed. He had begun his delusional ramblings, a dark chuckle echoing in your mind, as a lone tear had trailed down your cheek.

"The reunion at hand may bring joy, it may bring fear, but let us embrace whatever it brings."

This fic is based on one of my favorite prompts I've done so far on this blog. Context: The darling fled with her children to find a better life after Fluffy Sephiroth's corruption in this alternative path of the Domestic AU.

Yandere Domestic AU chronology: Christmas Kids | The Reunion is Nothing to Fear | Wait for me | Homecoming | The Crowning Moment

A little support goes a long way! If you’d like to help me keep creating, you can do so at on my kofi!

[mooglemarauder]

Turk Cloud au ideas:

A bunch of dialogue ideas from a Turk Cloud au. Premis: Cloud saw too much on the Modeoheim mission so Tseng scouts him for the turks

Tseng: This is not just a punishment. You stood out to me.

Cloud:I never stood out to SOLDIER.

Tseng: Yes. You blend in. Not best for getting into SOLDIER, but perfect for the Turks. Our job is not to be noticed.

Cloud:…fine. I'll join.

Tseng: good.

Tseng: You will need a code name. Is there anything fitting you have in mind?

Cloud:uhhhhhhhhh Spike?

Tseng:…

Cloud:…

Tseng:…no.

Clouds code name is Fangs

Zack: why fangs?

Reno: Cuz he's got two sharp teeth at his sides, and hides like a lone wolf!

Cloud:…Tseng…picked it…

Cloud cleaning his blades:

Cissnei: hey Cloud, could you clean my chakram too?

Cloud: sure.

Reno: Oh, mind taking care of my batons too, pretty boy?

Cloud: Well…

Elena: And my gun?

Cloud: Um…

Rude: Here.

Cloud: Uuuuuuuuuh

Tseng: Stop putting your work on him.

Cloud gets paired with Roche often because he can match his freak

Rude:I thought you had motion sickness, how did you even make it a foot on his bike?

Cloud: the adrenaline rush of staying alive canceled it out temporarily.

Rude:’temporarily'?

Cloud: yeah, give me a sec, I'm going to go hurl

Reno:guess his stomach was doing just a many flips as Roche was…

Lazard: Tseng, I fear that we've created the most volatile group combination.

Tseg: You mean the clean up job with Genesis, Roche, and Fangs?

Lazard: Yes… I just received an update on the latest mission. The entire base went up in flames.

Tseng:Isn't that what we planned? Shinra intended to bomb the base.

Lazard: They did. The bombs never made it. It was already destroyed before the planes even got within sight.

Tseng:…Roche and Genesis are wild cards on their own, but I thought Fangs would still follow protocol…

Lazard: Apparently the peer pressure of being around two adrenaline junkies brought it out of him...

Cissnei: Looks like you were guarding Aerith.

Cloud:wh- how can you tell?!

Cissnei: the flower in your pocket. It's not uniform.

Cloud:////////

[emmyc0z]

I read your work for Sephiroth and was wondering if you could write another one!

Impressive Woman

pairing : sephiroth x female!reader

summary : he told you not to be so shy but when you try he's nowhere to be found. what if you train to pass the time? surely there is no way to embarrass yourself again.

c/w : reader uses a sword, mention of blood

a/n : urghh i do NOT feel good about this one. i hope this one lives up to the first part

part 1

The weeks that followed the incident in the hallway were anti-climatic.  

Immediately following your encounter with Sephiroth you returned to Zack, abandoning your fabricated meeting with Angeal. He was standing, in the same place you had left him, chewing on his nails. Once he noticed you, practically floating, back towards him his hands fell away from his face. 

“Oh my god, I thought you were a goner. Man, he walked back this way and he- jesus it was scary you should be glad you missed it- he was all like,” he furrows his brows and scrunches his face up, recreating Sephiroth’s ‘scary’ expression. You assume it was probably more frightening in real time than now, considering Zack’s face only makes you giggle. “It’s not funny, seriously! I thought I was never gonna see you again. I was ready for you to come out of there sobbing, and then I would have to show him-.”

“Show him what, Zack? You can’t even show the spider living in the corner of your bunk who’s boss. What exactly did you plan on doing to your taller, stronger, and definitely handsomer superior soldier.”

“Um, ‘handsomer’ is not a word. Also, that was completely unnecessary. I was really worried about you, and you come back completely unscathed and then start complimenting your hypothetical heartbreaker. Hey, speaking of, why aren’t you heartbroken and sobbing by the way.”

“Your faith in me is truly touching Zack,” you let out a half-scoff-half-laugh and roll your eyes. “I’ll have you know that things went.. better than expected actually. And I’m telling you, things are looking up for me.”

But they weren't. If anything, things were steadily declining as the days passed. You had barely even seen the impassive man, let alone had a chance to speak to him and fulfill his request to “not be so shy”. Just your luck that during the most important week of your romantic life, the main component would be missing. Sephiroth had been sent away on a mission concerning first-class soldiers only. Strictly first-class soldier business, strictly confidential, strictly unable to share any details. At least that was what Angeal had told you when you asked when he’d be back.

So, you sat, sulking and staring at an empty training simulator, sitting in the same spot you had watched him train not even a week ago. Your lips part with a soft sigh, chin resting on your fists. 

“You know he’s coming back right?” Zack’s voice breaks you from your sullen trance, mirroring your surprised jump when your head whips in his direction. 

“Christ Zack, don’t sneak up like that!”

“Why don’t you do something productive and try out the training simulator? Rather than, y’know, just staring at it and thinking about sweaty Sephiroth.”

Your eyebrows scrunch up, unimpressed, “Um- I was not thinking about that. And the fact that you thought of that at all is concerning.”

“Hey! Don’t turn this back on me. Gross..” His voice is shrill as he defends himself, exaggerating a disgusted shiver with his body. He laughs softly, eyes spotting a soft smile on your face that puts him at ease. “Anyway, you should do some training. It might take your mind off things. Think about it, kay?” Zack rests his hand on your shoulder, giving you a goofy smile before he waves himself off. 

Of course, he was right. And it was the perfect time to train because nobody was around for you to embarrass yourself in front of. Cough cough, Sephiroth. 

You pull yourself up from the plastic bench and approach the training simulator. You push your hair out of your face, roll your sleeves up, and grab one of the midsized training swords. The dome lights up blue, the artificial training dummies loading up before you. Gently, you rest the back of the blade against your forehead, breathing in and grounding yourself. 

You focus on the cool metal against your clammy skin, tying your thoughts into this moment. Training during the day is usually hard for you. If anyone asks, you blame it on not wanting to fail in front of a crowded room. Which is true. But in reality, it’s just demeaning. 

Shinra is a male-dominated place and a female soldier is hard to come by. It’s not like it’s uncommon for you to hear inappropriate comments or be offered help you don't need.

Usually something like, “You should lift your arm higher when you swing your blade,” “Position your feet closer together,” “Adjust your grip,” and “Why don't I give you a private lesson on technique?” It’s like they forget that you're a soldier too. They forget that you took the same training and got to the same place as them. 

The blade in your hands glides swiftly through the air, fracturing the training dummy into a jumble of artificial cubes on the ground. A hair falls loosely in the middle of your forehead and you pay it no mind save for a quick puff of air to move it out of your eyes. 

You’re not supposed to, but you can't help picturing the male soldiers who often approach you to offer their unwelcome suggestions. You should be picturing Wutai, picturing a real fight, but it is so satisfying to imagine the stunned look on a man's face as he gets cut down. Another dummy crumbles into a pile of digital squares. And another. And another. You plow through them, more concentrated than you’ve probably ever been. Skin glowing with a thin coat of sweat.

Standing in the middle of the dome, you realize that the training dummies have all fallen. But suddenly something heavy rests on your shoulder, gripping it. A reflex test maybe. But you don’t remember loading that in.

You swing your sword around expecting another artificial being but your blade misses, flying through the air unexpectedly and causing you to stumble. It moves out of the way. It’s a real person. You swung at a real person. The blade clatters against the floor, slipping from your hands as you turn to face the person who intruded on your training. 

“Well, that's not exactly the greeting I was expecting. I thought you'd be happier to see me.” He's seriously teasing you even though you almost cut him in half.

“Seph- Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t- I would never- Why would you come in here? I could’ve seriously hurt you! Jesus, I didn’t even hear you come in..” You look him over erratically, your voice trailing off as your eyes zero in on a tear in the fabric on his arm.

With otherworldly speed, your hands find his arm to observe where your blade made contact. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his other arm rise and begin to move towards you at your approach and then slowly fall back to his side, barely noticeable hesitance. “I cut you..” 

He looks down at his arm with you, hooking one finger in the torn fabric and ripping it further to get a better view, “Yes. I suppose you did.” 

You wrap your hand around his forearm pulling him behind you quickly, and to any onlooker's surprise, he follows with no resistance, allowing you to drag him to the nearest first aid room. You practically push him to lean against the table inside, searching with unsteady hands for something to clean and wrap the wound. 

Sephiroth curiously stares at you. Observes you. Did you seriously think that this was worth all this stress? It was a tiny wound, just bigger than a paper cut. if the paper was made of medal but- He had just been off on a mission, facing much worse than this, and yet you were acting like it was the worst wound you had ever seen.

He realizes, upon your return with arms full of medical supplies, that he hasn’t seen your eyes this whole time because you won't look away from this cut. 

You roll his sleeve up with gentle hands, ignoring the way his fingers begin to brush against the underside of your arm. Gently, you wipe away the blood that oozes from his arm, hands shaky while pushing the gauze down to soak up the red liquid. When you know that the bleeding has stopped oozing out, you wrap his arm in a thin layer of gauze. You suddenly feel embarrassed by the attention you’ve given him, knowing now that it won't even need stitches.

Two weeks ago you wouldn’t have even dared to look in his direction if there was potential for him to catch you. Now you have confessed your feelings to him in the middle of an empty hallway, let him kiss you in the same empty hallway, and then almost cut his arm off. All in the span of a week. Okay, maybe you weren't even close to cutting his arm off but still.

“I’m sorry, I probably didn’t need to drag you away for this.” You finally look up to his face. He smiles down at you, maybe it would feel condescending to anyone else but to you it's almost endearing. 

“You're probably right. But I appreciate your concern anyway,” he lifts his hand to your face to push a stray piece of hair from your forehead. “You’re all sweaty.”

“Sorry..”

“Don’t apologize,” Sephiroth’s eyes never look away from your face. You can still feel his eyes on you when you look away from him. “You’re a good fighter. How come I’ve never seen you train before?”

“How long were you watching?” Your embarrassment grows and your face must show it because Sephiroth lets out a small laugh. 

“I apologize. I must admit, I was watching from the moment you started. I expected to find you when I got back, Angeal hadtold me you were quite troubled by my absence. But you were in the training simulator. So I took the opportunity to watch, almost like someone else I know.” He moves his head to find your gaze, which you hide from him by looking to the side. You can hear his smirk before you see it, and you know he's referring to you admiring him in the simulator on multiple occasions.

“You are far more impressive than me when you train. I can’t imagine you saw anything impressive.” You cross your arms over your chest but his hands reach up to break your defense, pulling both your hands into his own. 

“You shouldn’t speak that way. You are a very impressive woman, you fight well. Half of these soldiers would be more than lucky to learn from you, don't forget that.” Even while leaning against the table he towers above you.

Your stomach explodes with tingles as his praise registers. Pride fills you. You had always admired Sephiroth as a soldier. Even before you developed your childish crush on him.

One of his hands leaves yours, finger brushing against the high point of your cheekbone. “Did you know you have a cut here?” All you do is shake your head. 

He maneuvers the two of you to switch positions. You jump up to sit on the table, expecting to be closer to his height to no avail. Sephiroth gently moves your hair out of his way, pushing it behind your shoulders; his fingers brushing against your neck sends a shiver through your body.

He grabs a small cotton ball from the pile of supplies you had dropped on the table before and pours a small amount of antiseptic on it. Gently, he places it on the cut you didn’t even know you had and wipes away the blood that has dried along its edges. “You probably did this when you first swung your sword, do you always hold your blade so close to your face?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, remembering that you were embarrassed just a moment ago, “It’s just something I do when I train, my dad used to say something about being one with the blade when I was a kid." You give him exactly 2 seconds to respond before you fall back on yourself, "I know that probably sounds stupid..”

“You’re very hard on yourself. I don’t like hearing you speak that way. You are so much more than you know,” he says it so casually like it’s the simplest thought he’s ever had.

He looks between you, your cheek, and the supplies on the table. Usually, you might be glad to have a break from his intense gaze but now every time he looks away you're filled with disappointment. His fingers are gentle as he places a bandaid across your cheek, a soft smirk on his lips. You can only imagine it’s something embarrassing but you can't bring yourself to care. 

“There. Now we're even.” He doesn't try to distance himself, hand brushing against your cheek.

“I- Can we train together? I mean- would you train me?” He raises an eyebrow at you, flicking the used cotton ball and the bandaid’s packaging into the nearby garbage can.

“I won't train you.” Your hopeful expression fades, mouth parted like a silent ‘Oh’.

“Ah ah,” he lifts your chin with his pointer finger before it can fall any further, “I won't train you. But we can train together. I’m not a teacher, and anything you have to learn you won't learn it from any simple pointers I have to offer. It’s the experience you need. I will give you that. But we'll do it together, yeah?” You can’t help but flush at the underlying flirtation in his words. "How's that sound, hm?" Once you realize he's expecting some sort of acknowledgment, you nod.

Sephiroth’s finger leaves your chin, palm coming up to pat your cheek. If it was anybody else it would feel demeaning but it only makes you crack a smile. “You come and find me whenever you like, and you can show me a thing or two about ‘being one with the blade’.” He smirks, teasing you as he walks out of the medical room leaving you to sit in your flustered thoughts.

“So I imagine you found Sephiroth?” When you don’t respond, Zack waves his hand in front of your face.

“Hm?” 

“God, I have to get you out of here. He’s melting your brain with his evil soldier powers. Look at you,” his hand dramatically clasps the fabric of his tank top with one hand and touches his forehead with the back of the other. “I’m losing my best friend to his necromancy. He has hypnotized you with his love magic.” He gasps, “Oh god, what if he’s some sort of ancient being sent here to prevent you from ever having a decent conversation with me again.”

“Zack.”

“Yeah?”

“This has to be in your top ten most dramatic outbursts, I didn’t think you could get any worse. Why didn’t you become an actor? You seriously missed your calling.”

“Now that you mention it, I have been thinking about getting into acting,” he puts his hand up to his chin in fake thought, laughing when you push him and he loses his balance. 

Suddenly he pokes his finger into your face, touching your cheekbone, “Hey, by the way, what’s up with the kiddy moogle bandage?”

[strifebloom]

Loveless

Part 1.

Summary: In Midgar, everyone has a soulmate. Except of course, the woman who could never find hers - and the man who never bothered to look. Who knew that forcing the two onto a mission would be like a moth to a flame.

Tags: Cloud Strife x Reader, Soulmate! AU, Avalanche Member! Reader, hurt/comfort, slowburn, heavy angst, pining, unspoken feelings, temporarily unrequited love

Note: I recently picked writing this back up after a 2 year hiatus so I thought I'd finally post it on tumblr too!

Ao3 link

The rain was heavy that night. 

People poured out of the doors of Shinra corp, rushing to the station to catch the last few trains for the evening. Thunder sounded in the evening sky, deep murmurs brushed past you as people complained of Mako reactor failures within the country. You slowed your pace, hanging slightly behind the crowd that were leaving the Shinra building, hugging yourself slightly in the rain. It had been the worst downpour of the year, and of course the one day you would forget to bring a damn umbrella or any decent type of coat. Working for Shinra within the day was hardly a dream, in fact - it was merely an excuse. After all, what good would the mole of Avalanche be if they couldn’t get themselves a high-up job within Shinra. 

As you walked behind the other employees, your eyes scanned the crowd with intent. He was supposed to meet you today.

A slight fog hung in the air, lowering the visibility that was already hardly there in the first place. Footsteps rushed past you, splashing in the puddles on the concrete as they made their way to the trains. In and out. You followed behind the crowd, making your way to the station amongst those who were on their way home for the evening - to see their loved ones and family. 

As you boarded, your eyes slipped down to the wrist of the woman next to you; the small tattoo-like initials indented in small print as plain as day. They say that once your paths cross, and the connection forms between two soulmates - the initials of the lovers fade onto the wrists of both lovers. The train swayed slightly, you glanced down to your own wrist - a discontented sigh left your lips at the bareness.

Sure, there had been no complaints at the course of your life, so far. With such an important job as playing the part of Avalanches mole from the inside of Shinra itself. You lived a comfortable life, not a soul from Shinra suspected you and your facade upon the plate. However, that’s all it was. You were no business woman from a lavish background living on the plate of sector 4, you lived in the slums, commuted daily to work and then to the cells to give out any information that could’ve been of importance. A small sigh left your lips as you glanced out the window of the train, watching as different sectors passed you by the minute. All these people you’d met throughout the years, and still no spark. 

Still no soulmate.

Snapping back to your senses you realised the man you had been waiting for hadn’t appeared at the station. A slight wave of anxiety brushed over you as you stood in the middle of the crowded last train. Perhaps he’d forgotten, perhaps you’d missed him and left him stranded waiting on the platform. You chewed on the inside of your lip, what the hell would you tell the splinter cell say if you’d lost their merc? In the carriage, your colleagues pointed glances of curiosity at your sudden irritation as you shuffled impatiently - bothered by your thoughts. Flashing an apologetic smile for pushing past someone, you moved to the next carriage - Cloud Strife would stand out if he was on the train, there would be no way you’d miss the SOLDIER uniform and spiky blonde hair. 

The next carriage was just the same, lined with grey suits, sodden from the rain. People with crossed arms and drained faces either babbling about their day or trying their best not to fall asleep. You walked down the middle of the carriage, grimacing slightly at the feeling of your blazer clinging to your shoulders. The train was warm, only reinforcing how damp you were after the rain. Small puddles were only the metal floor from the people gathered - a small line of them moving to the next carriage. With no sign of the blonde ex-SOLDIER, you decided to follow them, hoping you’d encounter Cloud sooner rather than later instead of having to write an apology letter to Tifa. 

An echo of metal bashing against itself could be heard as the train manoeuvred the railway. The next carriage was emptier, mainly pedestrians and hardly any from Shrina corp. Your shoulders slumped in relief, glad to be away from the crowd of equally damp employees.

“You look like hell.” A blunt, unapologetic and hardly audible voice sounded from behind you.

Almost immediately, you glanced to your right. Cloud stood against the corner of the train. Arms crossed in front of him, head leant back. Apart of you wanted to be mad at him - he’d obviously followed you on board but never made any mood to greet you. But you were far too tired for that, this evening at least. 

“And you’re trying to say that you don’t?” You replied in a voice of similar tone, moving to stand next to him - assuming almost the same position. 

That was the thing you found you liked about Cloud. The two of you were very similar in your approach to all things avalanche: no nonsense get it done. Unlike Tifa, who could be known to be a darling, Cloud was scarcely liked and known for having a temper. But it wasn’t entirely off putting. A part of you highly admired his approach to most situations and yet you never had enough time to speak with him. The only times you see each other were days like this - for a transaction.

The ex-SOLDIER looked down at you. His mako-infused his subtly assessed the position you’d taken before a small grunt left his lips. Something that appeared much more endearing to those who knew him. 

“Never said anything.” He replied after a moment, shifting his gaze to the door across from him. 

“You know, I meant at the train station - not on the train, right?”

You raised your brow, a slight hint of frustration in your tone. Cloud simply blinked, like he was trying to process your annoyance. 

“We were both going this way, there was no point in standing in the rain all day.”
 He replied, that matter-of-fact tone making your blood boil. Although you couldn’t exactly reprimand him for being wrong. 

You brushed your hair out of your face as the train slowed, arriving at Sector 7. Most of the news you had been overhearing at work as of recent was of no use to Avalanche HQ - they were far too hesitant to make any rushed moves. However, the splinter cell were always prepared to accept you, and whatever news you’d bring. Your feet echoed against the metal of the steps as you made your way towards Seventh Heaven, mentally preparing yourself incase Aerith was hanging around this evening. Her energy brought a glisten to your eye and a genuine smile to your face, however you admittedly could get burnout by her energy fairly quickly. You were much more of a ‘straight-forward tell it how it is’ kind of person.

A small sigh left your lips as the two of you walked. The woman from the train’s wrist was still on your mind, out of selfishness it had forced you into a terrible mood. As the two of you walked, the ground crunched underneath your feet. You looked over at Cloud, his face unchanging as he walked next to you. A part of you wondered if he had met his soulmate. No one was probably aware if he had, the ex-soldier was a very private person and those leather-bound gloves he wore never seemed to leave his hands.

The man felt your eyes upon him, he glanced over at you as you walked - raising his brow slightly. 
“You need something?”

Mulling over his rhetoric, you decided there would be no better time than to press him about his personal life whilst the two of you were alone. At the bar, Cloud spent most of his time with Tifa, and whilst she was lovely, you didn’t feel right pushing Cloud for questions in front of the person who knew him best. Perhaps she’d find you silly for even thinking to ask such simple things. 

“Do you believe in soulmates, Strife?”

Cloud scoffed slightly, a smile threatening to pull at his lips. 

He looked up, eyes studying the underside of the plate as the two of you walked. His side profile was illuminated by the dim streetlamp of the Sector 7 slums, highlighting the sharpness of his facial proportions. In this light, you supposed he looked quite pretty. After a moments pause, he furrowed his brow, like he a foul memory had resurfaced - something he wanted to forget.

The man shrugged “Not like you can’t believe in them.”

He fell silent for a moment, still lost in his thoughts .

“Not in Midgar.”

You frowned slightly at his words, trying to understand what he meant. People say that when you lose your soulmate, you lose apart of yourself. Cloud had always seemed so…distant - you’d always wondered if there was something more than just the horrors he endured in SOLDIER behind his demeanour. 

He kicked a stone, swinging his arms slightly as the two of you made your way through the back alleys - taking the shortcut towards Seventh Heaven.

A million thoughts rushed through your head, a million questions you felt the need to ask. You looked over at Cloud again, a heat rushing to your face due to the anxiety of needing answers.

“Have you met yours? Your Soulmate, I mean.” 

You asked hesitantly, voice growing quiet before you finished your sentence - your stomach dropping slightly with the feeling of overstepping. 

Cloud clenched his jaw, his body stiffening slightly as he walked next to you. You slowed your pace, moving away to give him room. 

“Don’t be stupid.” 

Was all he said, as you both walked into the night. 

The door to the bar creaked slightly as you pushed it open, revealing the small knit group of the splinter cell in their usual places. Tifa behind the bar, chatting to Aerith and Jessie, Biggs and Wedge laughing at something indiscernible and Barrett talking with Marlene. 

You looked over at the man who had walked with you, a small scoff leaving your lips as you pushed him into the bar. The two of you had walked back mostly in silence after the minor soulmate conversation, it was comfortable - Cloud was someone who didn’t need to make conversation to let you know he enjoyed your company. 

You would be a fool to deny that Cloud Strife wasn’t someone of interest to you. The mako-infused blue eyes that could almost read your soul as he looked you over. He was fascinating, and the two of you had a smilier mindset. When you had first met, a part of you had hoped that he would be the soulmate you’d been searching for - with your similarities. 

But things are never as simple as that. 

His brows knitted together slightly as he felt your eyes on him, those blue eyes shifting to meet yours. Cloud nodded slightly at the others, a small grunt leaving his lips. A greeting that was far more endearing to those that knew him. 

Tifa’s eyes shifted from Aerith to the two newcomer’s within the bar, her eyes brightened at your presence briefly but then shifted to a state of worry as she hurried past the counter towards the two of you. Her hands immediately moved to your shoulders, a disapproving huff leaving her lips as she felt the wetness from the rain. Sure enough, a pool of droplets followed your trail. Quiet rain droplets fell from your coat as you stood in front of the bar owner, who was absolutely mortified at the state you were in.

“Oh my god, how bad is it out there?” The woman asked, her voice gentle and filled with genuine worry.

The man next to you tutted, crossing his arms over the front of his chest as he met Tifa’s gaze.

“Take a guess.” His reply was blunt yet again, but he was hardly one to complain. Cloud himself for the most part was in a far better situation than you - the weather hadn’t caused his hair to flop miraculously at least.

Tifa shook her head, ushering you towards the counter and she mumbled quiet thoughts of worry. 
“No this won’t do, what if you catch a cold?”

She scolded you gently for hanging around for so long, but her smile was still bright and loving. A part of you wanted to protest, if it wasn’t for Cloud’s expertise in hiding in plain sight, you wouldn’t of had to wait for so long outside the station, and furthermore maybe you would’ve avoided the worst of the downpour. Despite your protests, she urged you towards the spare room in the back of the bar to change. Jessie spared something clothes, joking about how much nicer they’d smell due to your perfume. You smiled and shook your head as you changed into the new, far warmer garments.

Regardless, you had witness reports to share, and information to give. Once you had changed, the members of the splinter cell had rearranged themselves around one of the larger tables in the bar. You took a seat between Cloud and Aerith - smiling warmly at the woman who nudged your shoulder in greeting. 

“Right.” Tifa hummed, flipping to a fresh page in her notebook “shall we get on with it?”

You spent a good few hours telling the sector 7 Avalanche members what you had learnt from your job within the day. It was nothing of high importance to HQ, however their plans to renovate the warehouses in sector 2 meaning they would be left unattended for a few days was something that definitely took the interest of Barret. The man nodded his head, tapping his fingers against the desk as he watched Tifa write down her notes whilst listening to you. As expected his focus snapped entirely to you once you’d mentioned the warehouse opportunity. 

“For how long?” Barret asked, leaning forward slightly with an eagerness.

As you were about to answer, Cloud cut in.

“They won’t leave it for more than three days” he stated bluntly, his eyes flicking from Barret to the annoyed expression on your face “If you wanna get in, gotta do it quick.” 

You sat back in your chair, watching the cogs in Barret’s head turn as he thought things over. The table grew silent, everyone knew not to interrupt Barret’s thoughts if you didn’t want an ear full. Even wedge had placed his snacks back on the table - an air of tension settling over everyone. 

“Will we go?” Cloud asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. His tone was a balance of confidence and boredom, like he wanted Barrett to hurry his decision, like he had somewhere else to be. 

From across the table, Tifa shot him a warning look as she shook her head slowly. Her eyes shifted to yours, a small smirk forming on her lips. You knew her cue and were more than happy to take the opportunity. Swinging your leg slightly, you rammed your boot into Cloud’s ankle; a warning to shut him up. The man’s brow furrowed, he instinctively hunched over slightly in pain before glaring at you in childish manner. Cloud swung back, aiming his own foot for your ankle. An eye for an eye - as he would casually say when you went to reprimand him. 

Once the meeting had ended, the two of you stood up almost immediately. Like two children who couldn’t stand to be near each other after a fight. 

“Sit..” A soft voice chimed, trying not to let out a giggle as they watched.

Aerith was laughing at the two of you and your childish display, Tifa still at her side. You’d been kicking each other throughout the rest of the meeting - both too stubborn to give into the other. As you looked down at Aerith, you noticed the slight shadowing on her wrist. Your eyes widened in surprise, the woman had never spoken about her soulmate before, you had never realised she had one.

Aerith wasn’t an entirely private person, you knew almost everything about each other. But as her arm rested on the table, revealing the darkened lettering, a small feeling bubbled inside and you wondered if you really knew her at all.

Her eyes followed yours, a knowing smile playing upon her lips.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She hummed, her voice quiet and knowing. 

Cloud raised his eyebrow, leaning back in his seat slightly as you sat forward. The lettering hadn’t bled, like a tattoo, still fresh - still permanent. 

Z.F.

The others had departed and the bar was now quiet, a soft yellow glow filled the room from the lights that had been left on within the main room. Tifa sat with her hands in her lap, her eyes had also shifted to the initials marked on Aerith’s wrists - a gentle frown pulling at her brow like she too had been entirely in the dark until now. 

“I didn’t know you’d met your soulmate..?” You hummed, a small grin of curiosity spreading across her face.

It was a wonderful thing to see but also, entirely confusing. You’d never once met anyone Aerith had been remotely romantically interested in, or had at least appeared to be. In the past, you’d potentially considered Cloud as you’d observed the duo upon your various meetings, but had then concluded that her playful nature was far too sibling like to be the soulmate type. In this world, soulmates were head over heels, it wasn’t uncommon for them to be joined at the hip. Glancing over to the ex-SOLDIER, you noticed he too was now leaning forward. His brows were knit together, a look of both frustration and confusion painting his face as he stared at the initial on her wrist.

You gave him a slight glare, it was unlike Cloud to be so obvious when snooping - let alone so annoyed with something he hadn’t at least tried to comprehend. A part of you thought he was potentially jealous, but there wasn’t a soul he had seemed to have interest in. 

The woman glanced down at her wrist, her jaw clenching subtly as she looked down at the mark. Something in her eyes changed, that sparkle fizzled out slightly. Aerith’s entire demeanour shifted within those brief moments - catching the attention of Tifa who gently lifted her hand to her should. Her posture slouched slightly as she chewed on the inside of her lips. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but a rush of worry shot through you, like you’d overstepped. Like you’d never noticed the mark of her soulmate for a reason.

She laughed softly, albeit it was entirely half hearted. Aerith subtly turned her wrist over, hiding the mark of her soulmate as she looked up at the two of you.

“Had.” 

The woman mumbled, her voice carrying a wave of sadness and defeat. You hardly had anytime to pick up on what she had said before she was clearing her throat, shrugging off whatever burden was weighing on her soldiers. 

You sat back slightly, a wave of guilt washing over you. Next to you, Cloud uncrossed his arms, face softening slightly as he watched her. Aerith shook her head and laughed slightly.

“That’s not why I asked you guys to stay, Barrett wanted us to ask you both to carry out the next mission.”

You frowned slightly, sitting forward with your mouth open to say something. That wasn’t your role in Avalanche. You were just the messenger, you didn’t take part in the missions - not that you’d never been interested in doing so; but you’d never had the training. The bar was silent as a million thoughts rushed through your head - only interrupted by the sound of rain against the roof. 

“I’m sorry but that makes no sense, that’s not my role..?”

You didn’t want to sound selfish, but you knew your lack of experience would only irritate Cloud. The blonde ex-soldier wasn’t the kind of person to be patient, especially not on a mission. He nodded in agreement at your words, a small hum leaving his lips. Of course, you’d be no help to him, surely Tifa would be a much better fit?

Aerith nodded, her smile brightening once again as she leant forward.

“Exactly! No one will know who you are! That’s why you’re perfect.” She chimed, clapping her hands together softly.

The man frowned slightly, the sound of his leather gloves tapping gently against the wooden table. Cloud’s eyes shifted to yours once again, his expression blank and unreadable - but you could tell he was trying to work out what value you could bring.

Aerith watched for a moment silently. She had always been aware there was some sort of connection between the two of you on your side, however, in truth she was nervous about about the mission herself. The whole team had been. No one knew how you would react, let alone how convincing the idea would be. 

Next to her, Tifa cleared her throat as to cut in. It was like she could read your mind, she could tell that a fear was brewing - not just because of your lack of experience, but also your reputation. You were both well known and well respected in Shinra, a primary reason for your value to Avalanche and one slip up on a mission could ruin everything. 

“Cloud has some undercover work on the plate next week,” Tifa began, her voice lowering to an almost whisper “but he can’t go on his own - and the rest of us would look far too focused on the mission..”

His brow furrowed, a small scoff leaving his lips.

“You? Focused?”

The woman gasped and playfully leant forward to slap him on the shoulder. She shook her head, swinging her legs due to the height of the stool slightly. 

“No, the point is... We need two people to pretend to be soulmates and, to my knowledge, neither of you have one - right?”

Tifa’s voice was as kind as her smile, but there was a hint of teasing behind it.

Cloud’s eyes widened slightly, obviously taken aback at the proposal. You had no idea what he was thinking. He stiffened slightly, shooting you another glare like a child would do after a scolding, in response, you simply rolled your eyes - a heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

Clearing your threat, you avoided eye contact with almost everyone in the room in those next moments. 

“Well I mean, yeah.” 

It was embarrassing to admit, most people had met their soulmates by your age, if not at when they were younger. The women across from you shared a teasing giggle yet their eyes remained sweet. Tifa leant forward slightly, her aura reassuring as she rested both elbows on the wooden table of the bar.

“Can you play this part for me? I promise it won’t get in the way of anything else, plus! There’s obviously an incentive” Tifa added, knowing that the extra money would be like music to the ears of the blonde mercenary.

A million thoughts rushed through your head. Was this really a good idea? You’d never heard of people convincingly pulling off faking soulmates, and whilst you and Cloud had similar attitudes neither of you were the romantic types. 

Out of curiosity, you glanced to Cloud. He too seemed to be in thought. The man’s arms were crossed, his gaze focused on the large wooden doors of Seventh Heaven. There was a slight twitch to his brow as he felt your eyes upon him. Cloud glanced your way, a small hum leaving his lips. 

He shrugged, raising his eyebrow slightly.

“I’m up for it if you are.” His voice was unphased, if not seemingly interested - the money was definitely sweetening the deal.

For a moment you simply stared at him out of utter surprise. You weren’t really sure if it was the selfish part of you that knew there was money up for grabs, or maybe the curious side that wanted to see how successful this mission could be…but before you knew it you were slowly nodding.

And god, the two of you had no idea what you were getting into.

[asha-mage]

Could you do a snippet of Asahi from FFXIV for the prompt "voice"?

[Send me a fandom, character, or pairing and a one word prompt and I'll write a quick drabble for you!]

(CW: Child-abuse, victim blaming and general Garlean-Doma cultural problems.)

There are certain things that are not said in the Naeuri household.

Asahi's parents are very efficient at teaching him this lesson, without ever needing to put it into so many words. 'No' is the biggest taboo. His parents might occasionally phrase things as questions or requests, but the acceptable answer is always clear cut and obvious: ‘yes’, ‘at once’, ‘of course father’, ‘right away mother’. A negative answer is never expected or acceptable, even to rhetorical questions. If it ever seems like what they want is no, then what they really want is for him to stay quiet and express nothing.

On the rare occasion they actually want to know something specific- usually how his lessons on imperial etiquette or the Garlean tongue are going- they want a clean, concise report of what he has learned.

He’s long since mastered the art of giving his answers in a cool monotone, keeping a tight clamp on his emotions to prevent disappointment or excitement from showing. The best-case scenario is a sharp word and a reminder to stay on topic, the worst case well…

It had only needed to come to that once or twice.

Asahi knows that his opinions and feelings are of no consequence. His parents are only interested in his progress and the value it represents. His mother is tight fisted with their meager gil and every coin they pay to his tutor is spent with the hope of one day being repaid. Their questions are not made with the interest of parents in their son’s education, but stakeholders checking on an investment. Sentiment is for other people. People who don’t intend to rise above their circumstances.

Asahi’s parents are very aware of what they want- both from him and the world- and remarkably clear headed about how to get it. Asahi will learn to speak perfect Garlean, and master the manners and mores of the Empire. He will attend the military academy and find service with a high ranking legateus. He will make good connections and marry well. His parents will have comfort and wealth and never again have to toil in the dirt and crack their own fingernails. Anything that contradicts this plan is not to be considered or spoken of. To speak something is to threaten to make it real in their eyes- so doubt, reservation, and contradiction are ruthlessly and efficiently stamped out. And if it can not be stamped out, it is ignored.

It is this blindness that Asahi learns to manipulate early and often. If he leaves out a difficulty he is having in his lessons, or fails to bring up how a Garlean solider spat on him and called him a ‘filthy black eye’ then his parents will never learn of it on their own. They don’t want him to be struggling and so will accept his reports of success without question. As long as he keeps a tight grip on his emotions and tells them what they wish to hear, he has nothing to be afraid of.

It's something Yotsuyu has never managed to figure out. Yotsuyu presumes that, because something is true or right that it should matter. Yotsuyu thinks that because her anger is righteous, it deserves to be given voice, that because their situation is unjust and cruel, that is reason enough to speak about it. Her stubborn refusal to master her anger and outrage is the reason she ends sobbing and carrying heavy pails of water on a back striped with bloody welts so often, or else sent to the dark of the barn without supper or a blanket.

It’s her own fault, Asahi tells himself resolutely and frequently, every time mother seizes Yotsuyu by the hair or father hurtles a dish in her direction. It is not as if they have been unclear about the rules of the game with either of them. She acts as if her refusal to play at all is somehow noble. As if acknowledging that it’s wrong, all of it- the Empire, their parents, their society- will somehow change anything.

But Asahi knows better. Giving voice to such things is a useless exercise. The only way to change things is with power, and the only path to power is to play the game.

He tells her that one night as he’s helping clean and dress the cuts along her back and she laughs at him.

“You think if you get enough head pats and good marks and smiles you’ll have power?” She says through choked, ugly tears. “Real power? That if you bow and scrape and please enough, that it will matter somehow?”

Anger surges in him and he clamps it down before he can do more then press down the cloth a little to hard. Still Yotsuyu hisses and throws him a glare.

“I think it’s better then giving up.” He says quietly, instead of throwing down the cloth the way he wants too. He knows Yotsuyu hates him. He hates her a little bit too, for the strange cold feeling that blooms in his chest every time he has to watch her beaten, and for the voice that whispers do something do something do something in the back of his mind, even though there is nothing he can do.

Yotsuyu tries to scrub some of her tears away, but all she succeeds in doing is pushing the wet streaks of dirt around her cheek. “That’s exactly what you’ve done. I’m still fighting, but you…you refuse to admit theirs even a problem.”

Asahi clenches his fist. “You call this fighting?” He snaps, then forces a breath through his clenched teeth, and makes his shoulders relax. “Yotsuyu, please if you would just-“

“No.” She says firmly. “Never.”

“If you don’t bend they will keep going until you break.” He says, closing his eyes tight and only opening them when he’s sure that no tears will come out. He’s gotten very good at doing that over the years. When he does Yotsuyu has turned around to stare at him. Her eyes are cold and dark, like the ocean on a stormy night.

“Then I will break.” She says quietly. “But at least I’ll be able to live with myself till then. Will you?”

Asahi hates her so much in that moment. He hates the unspoken accusation of cowardice, of weakness. He hates that he knows it’s true.

He wants to tell her that he loves her, that’s she’s the only person who has ever understood him. That she’s wrong, that it isn’t her against him and their parents, but that it’s him and her together against their parents. He wants to tell her that he hates seeing her suffer and he just wants it to stop. He wants to tell her that he will find a way to make this right.

But there isn’t a point. She wont believe him, and he’s learned long ago that giving voice to something, even it’s true, is useless.

So instead, he lays the cloth aside and stands and says. “At least I will still be alive to regret.”

And then he leaves.

[ariseur]

since requests are open and i just read about ur reply yo the soft sephiroth anon, i was wondering/hoping if u could write something domestic about cloud!! maybe a simple day between him and reader, something sweet and calm after yhe whole mess of what their life is, you know? always fighting, adventuring, here and there! obviously if this is too vague or/and u dont like it, it’s fine! honestly ill take any cloud x reader i can bc ur works are always Perfect. Amazing. I send u a kiss mwa!!! 🩷

cloud doesn’t get why you like seeing the scars on his body.

not fresh, of course — as he can always notice the pinch in the center of your brows get a little tighter whenever he comes home with a fresh bandage or when one of the others has to tell you about what happened first.

but at times, when you lay at night, he’ll see you tracing the scars that litter his body. regardless of whether they’re from a paper cut, a bruise from an old hinged door, or a gash from one of the more infesting creatures in the slums. certain scars that spells can’t take away, as they always leave a little patch of pinkish skin behind rather than its original color.

exhausted, your limbs sprawl out across your bed, wincing at the bruises from your body after earlier that day. a hot shower can’t even scrub away at the difficulties of your job.

cloud hops in bed next to you, watching as you shift around. he sheds his second skin (his buster sword) and lets it rest against the desk next to your bed, turning on the lamp as he sits in the bed and allows the ache in his muscles to just rest.

(a tired sigh slips past his lips, and these pillows have never felt better.)

his hair’s still a little damp from the shower earlier, droopy like an umbrella soaked from the evening rain. you stifle a chuckle at his similarity to a wet cat, big eyes and all.

your hands find his leg, almost in search of something; twisting and turning as your eyes follow the slope of his toned calf. eyes widening fractionally, a small hum escapes you as your eyes land on a small mark extending across the bone of his ankle. your hands warm against his leg, a feeling that cloud has gotten used to after being able to sleep soundly within the same bed as you.

azure eyes peer down at you, the dim glow of your apartment light gracing your face as you hang upside down, feet propped up on the headboard of the bed as he sits upright — your thumb grazing a long scar on his ankle. his face twists, a head tilt in confusion.

“what’re you doing?” he asks.

your hand pauses in its ministrations. “what do you mean?”

“you always do that,” cloud’s brows furrow in confusion. “look at all my scars. how come?”

you shrug, though it’s a bit awkward from how you’re positioned. looking back up at him, you cross your feet together at the ankles and gaze in thought.

“i just do, they’re like little stories,” you give a small laugh, dripping in sincerity. it makes cloud’s breath hitch a bit, admiring the way you tilt your head with the engulfment of dingy, warm lighting, before he scoffs and crosses his arms.

“cheesy.”

“you love it,” you grin. he hates how he really does.

he huffs, and lolls his head back against the headboard. “why don’t you lay down like a normal person?” his hand gestures to how you’re sitting, fingers now splayed and interlocked on your stomach.

“because i have to get all these stories, even the ones down at your feet,” you say, finger tickling at the ball of his foot. he grimaces and tucks them away from you.

“if you do that again, it’s not my fault if you get kicked in the face.”

you smile, and do it again. turns out, he wasn’t joking. you now restrain yourself from tickling cloud.

taglist ; @meowieesilly @akerasia @alieeelinn @ch3rryfiles @xiansiii

requests are open — may fourth, 2024

sorry this is like actually so short and so buns.. it is currently 2:58am and i am very delirious and have been studying all day. hope this was okay 💔

[divan-daikon]

i do not care what sqeenix tries to tell me w modern sephi but istg

that man does NOT have the energy to smirk as much as he does. bro looks like he's dissociating all the damn time. you call his name and he responds w the most hollow, tired, and mumbly "hm?" you've ever heard in your life. you try to hold a conversation w this man and he has the most tired and detached look in his eyes.

he just looks so ungodly done and miserable to me in the og art, like he's just holding on to reality to do his job and then just blip out of existence again bc of how draining it is to simply think

homeslice would most likely cry sooner than he'd smirk, that's for sure. i refuse to let go of the personal hq that he cried hysterically after zack left the library

i just enjoy my emotionally spent murder man

[c0smoshit]

Sunday mornings ミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ none!! Just fluff, not proofread

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ slow mornings with mr. Strife ;)

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ I can't get over this man

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 700

"I don't wanna get up"

Your roughed up voice ringed inside his ears, skin glistening under the already burning sun that peeked through the window and into the bed, bathing the room in a natural lighting.

"Cmon, those 5 minutes are over already"

Groaning, you pushed your face into the pillow he had laid his head on just a while ago. Muffling your protests into the cushion you also smelled it, that familiar masculine aroma filling up your nostrils.

You were just about to doze off once again until a pair of arms wrapped around your legs, pulling you down the mattress with a yelp before they quickly turned you around, snatching you up.

With your head spinning you rapidly grabbed into whatever would make you more stable, it being his lower back as you opened your eyes only to see that the floor was weirdly up.

"Hey- put me down you animal!"

He didn't respond, how weird.

He started walking, and with each step he took the sleepiness of your brain was starting to dissipate, making notes of every feeling around you once again.

His right hand had you hanging off his shoulder as he grabbed your lower waist, just with one hand.

Always showing off

Your words fell deaf into his ears and you were starting to suspect that he was actually enjoying carrying you around like that. He always did; grabbing your hips to pull you up so you could grab whatever you wanted to, princess carrying you to bed whenever you fell asleep working on your desk or in the sofa, snatching you up whenever he wanted to cuddle...

He really loved manhandling you everytime he could, the way you would try to pull yourself off him was such a cute view for him.

"Are you done?"

He looked into your face for once, a small smile forming on his face at your pout. He had finally put you down, on top of your kitchen counter, hissing at the coldness of it.

"Want something?"

He locked eyes with you as he held some eggs on his hand, toast in the other. You smiled, appretiating his cooking attempts on slow mornings like this.

Oh how you loved him, dearily.

Always dreaming of watching his dried up drool on his cheek, his messed up hair and shallow breathing. The morning sun kissing all over his torso, making you jealous. However, he also looked weird, finally settled down with you, no more hidden emotions and no more fighting for the planet.

He was truly ethereal to you, the same way you were also for him. You had saved him from the darkest pit inside his head, staying by his side even when he had pushed you away.

"Seen enough yet?"

"Oh shut up"

His smirk grew wider and you finally saw that he was starting to make breakfast for you too, exactly what you would have told him to cook.

"I don't want breakfast-

You said with a mumble as you nudged his shoulder, grabbing it and pulling him into you, opening your legs so he could nestle between them.

He let you hug his neck, trap him in between your legs as he reached out to mix the eggs in a bowl. Starting to pepper little kisses into his neck you noticed the small hairs on his back stand up, smiling into his skin as you raked softly your nails against his back.

You smiled, noticing his sudden clumsiness as you had him nestled inside a love trap, your legs pulling him closer against you.

"Y/n, I'm gonna burn the toasts"

He sighed at your giggles, trying to break free until he noticed that you had both of the toasts already on the plate he had prepared, giving him a wink.

"You sure are a minx"

He laughed out before giving you what you really were needing until he stopped midways, his nose touching yours as he looked into your already closed eyes, waiting for his taste.

When you opened them you knew you had already fucked up, managing to catch a glimpse of greek yogurt on his fingers before he had smoothered it on the tip of your nose.

"Gotta pay more attention"

He cutely mimicked your wink, finally being able to do so the way you had previously taught him too, laughing at his attempts.

"You-"