#infernocharged

[sometimesrufus]

❛ did i do good? ❜ (Reno)

"Yes, Reno." Rufus squeezed the Turk's hand and looked to the medic trying to staunch the blood flow. Compressed lips were all he got in response to his silent question, and his gut knotted that much tighter. At least he was still conscious. Rufus quietly hung his hopes on that little piece of knowledge. That, and the medics hadn't indicated it was hopeless yet. He'd probably lived through worse.

"Don't think that means you can slack off now. I still need you." His throat tightened on the last syllable. There was no way he was getting more than that out. It was dangerously close to sentimental and Rufus didn't do sentiment.

"Stay," he still commanded through the pain in chest, his hand holding on too tight without him noticing.

@infernocharged

[avataroftheswarm]

@infernocharged for Livio

If one were to ask Zazie their opinion, force them to be honest, they detested Conrad. He was a spinless hypocrite in their opinion, willing to carve his own kind to pieces, take them apart, remake them again, promising redemption and freedom and all these sweet empty words while he worked to remove humanity entirely along with Knives. Oh sure, he surely had some sort of secret motivations, but from the actions he took and the words he spoke, Zazie detested him. They would never let him do even a fraction of what he did to humans to the Worms.

That said, they didn't feel any sympathy or even pity for his little playthings either. The ones he didn't deem special, he had broken of anything that made them remotely interesting. Empty drones only good for pointing a gun at things.

Even the successes were usually uninteresting. Beyond Elendira, who was a menace and very rarely allowed beyond the labs, there was just the giant monster who'd lived long enough to be called a success.

And then there were two more. First a tiny thing with dark hair who was celebrated as a success before he even really began. Then one with paler hair then their own, desperately trying to keep up. So small at first. Zazie watches in the training yard, the only place they can observe the younger trainees, the ones who haven't been cleared for missions yet. The white haired one struggles. It makes something stir inside them and they watch him work so much harder then everyone else.

The next time he falls short, drags himself upright again, a half a cookie falls at his feet. Zazie looks down from above, perched on the bars that keep the prisoners trainees from simply hopping the fence and running. A pause and the wink at him, taking a bite from the other half cookie in their hand.

[rcseadorned]

@infernocharged​ 

Red. That was all she could see. The pure white stone of the throne room was.. red. Moments ago, the most prestigious of the Celestial Kingdom had gathered there to pay respects to their new King. And it was their new King who condemned them all to death. She understood why she had been given the order to remain in her room, and how she regretting deliberately ignoring it now. But how could she not? A coronation was meant to be a great celebration from the throne room down to the city below, she was rather affronted when she was told not to take part of it. 

But she understood why.. now. This wasn’t meant to be a celebration.. it was meant to be a massacre. 

The fear left her frozen to the spot just behind the furthest marble column, but even here, the pool of blood collecting on the floor had reached her. Everyone was dead.. and he had commanded it to happen. The words stuck into her mind like ice, chilling her from the inside. “Then, die.”

How was this the same person she had known all this time? A man so hell-bent on saving others, to keep the peace between Celestial and Demon. A man who only saw the good in others even through the years of war. Now he stood in front of the throne, and in all his regal splendor his first command.. was death. 

There had been a pain inside her for so long that had started to fade, but now seemed to return tenfold. Like sharp glass being driven through her own heart. What was she meant to think now? She hadn’t realized her legs had given out from under her and she had sunk to the floor, no longer hidden by the column. The blood.. just like the throne room, stained her legs, her robes... her hands. It almost burned..

“...why?” the word meekly drifted out of her and in the now silent room, that word might have carried all the way to the throne. 

[royalbratprince]

💀 for what my muse would say upon hearing about your muse’s death. (Ignis 😏)

What My Muse Says About Yours | accepting but forever slow 

“No.”

It was a word.  Without meaning, without tone.  He hadn’t even been aware that he’d said it, everything numb.  Dull.  Like the color just drained from the world.  He remembered the shock when he found out his father had died, but--

But, it...  “No.”  A little louder.  Still unmeant.  Unheard to him.

Ignis... Ignis wasn’t supposed to die.  The most skilled amongst them.  The most prepared, the most--

The most.  And longest.  And most deserving.

Before tears, before anger, there was emptiness.  Nothing.  A gaping hole and a cold breeze.  “No.”

[ghostofnibelheim]

◇ for my muse to to play with your muse’s hair (Genesis)

Platonic Affection || Always Accepting

The gentlest tug to his hairline had Sephiroth's eyes flutter open, lazily. Like a big cat in its cage after a full meal, he'd craved rest for just a few minutes. But he should have known that Genesis's offer of his own lap would come at a price.

"That look in your eyes almost gives me the impression you're planning to eat that." He said quietly, following the light play of his friend's fingers along the length of long silver strands. "I find it unsettling."

[annjiru]

  ❝  Genesis,  ❞  he  begins,  an  air  of  sadness  seeping  into  his  tone.    ❝  It  appears  as  though  our  flight  to  Banora  got  cancelled  due  to  some  inclement  weather.  Despite  our  best  efforts,  I'm  afraid  we  won't  make  it  home  for  the  holidays.  ❞

@infernocharged

[sepheroth]

Silver: How are you not famous for your writing? O_O

rate my writing by colors thank you so much. im so glad it's reached that level even though im not particularly certain how. its good knowing you see it this way otherwise.💖💖💖

[s-partan]

                𝐎𝐔𝐑  𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑  𝐇𝐀𝐃  𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍  𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃,    accepting  even.    hikaru  had  attained  kratos’  favor  through  hard  labor,    no  small  feat  for  one  who  hailed  from  a  far  distant  land.    to  no  surprise,    even  when  they  shared  an  harmonious  relationship,    what  should  have  been  a  humble  conversation  had  turned  sour      —    hostile.

kratos  bestowed  a  temperance  of  steel,    not  once  raising  a  hand  in    violence.    yet  hikaru  wished  to  put  a  point  across,    one  which  fervently  went  against  our  warrior’s    wishes.    as  soon  it  became  a  physical  dispute,    kratos  held  the  young  man’s  wrist  with  an  iron  grip:    it  was  far    fiercer    than  a  bear’s  constricted  jaw,    as  if  the  man’s  very  fist  had  been  forged  in  the  fires  of    𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬.

perhaps  in  an  act  of  desperation,    or  lack  of  thinking,    hikaru’s  teeth  took  a  bite,    sunk  ‘pon  our  warrior’s  forearm.    they  dug  deep,    far  too  deep;    they    pierced    the  very  skin,    lacerating  with  brutish  force  ‘till  blood  seeped  but  .  .  .    such  iron  grip  did  not  desist.    the  only  retribution  the  young  man  received  was  the  unforgettable  gaze  of  displeasure,    a  scowl  fitting  a  demon  whose  cage  had  been  rattled.    

Ω   𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 :     BLOOD   LUST  (  16  ) Ω   𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍:  @infernocharged​

[a-vctlan]

ɪɴꜰᴇʀɴᴏᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇᴅ ꜱᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ:

[ FOURTEEN ]  receiver was kidnapped,  sender shows up to save them. [ TWENTY-FIVE ]  for sender to have receiver stand by somewhere safe where they can watch sender kill on their behalf.  (Angeal and Genesis) @infernocharged

ᴀɴɢᴇᴀʟ ʜᴇᴡʟᴇʏ

There is an odd appreciation to be had with the heavy scent of smoke that trails after Genesis' coat whenever his temper sparks, and Angeal admits he might be the only one with the patience to deal with his dearest friend's attitude... and selfishly, he takes pride in it, in knowing what it is that causes him to burn so brightly and how to best talk him down least he is swept up in that same passion.

And maybe there could be an argument that he is biased, lets Genesis get away with too much, only stepping in when he toes the lines of Angeal's own convictions, and well, Angeal would agree with that sentiment, and he has zero intentions to change his attitude towards the other First Class.

Because he can see beyond the smoke and fire. He sees the young man standing there. The tremor to his frame, emotion overwhelming.

... Funny how that night sneaks up on him, even if with a decade now between them and it, two promotions under their belts, countless others close calls to sit back and reminisce on. But it is this night that weighs on his mind, for that was the night he truly had his beliefs challenged, the night he'd faced the true depth of Genesis' loyalty to them: a pair of non-assuming country boys who'd promised each other they'd raise to the top no matter what -- because no one else would be looking out for them.

And it was true, still a 3C operative, but so painfully hard-headed and a blind believer in honor, Angeal stayed behind to give the infantry platoon they were ordered to abandon a fighting chance -- not realizing that there was a greater reason behind it, still ignorant to their enemy's true intent in capturing a SOLDIER operative.

( In turn, Genesis refused to board their transport once Angeal didn't show and was told that he was to be considered a lost cause, a casualty and at worst, a deserter -- a classification that would spread to him as well, should he not board the transport. )

Angeal was blind sighted, spelled into sleep as much as he fought against it, and ultimately the squad he stayed behind to protect met the end he so wanted to avoid -- whatever they would do to him would be barely a spec of dust to the despair he felt at that realization, barely able to keep his eyes open as a disturbingly short fight broke out.

Their blood was on his hands, he failed them as SOLDIER. ( What did it mean to be SOLDIER? ) ( Did he fail them by not saving them, or by ignoring his orders? )

And as his thoughts darkened in tempo with the despair brewing inside of him, so did his sight, mind ultimately losing the fight against the sleepel spell. Whatever awaited him was earned by his failure, at least Genesis followed the orders to evacuate the premises -- in part Angeal always thought he had more of the viciousness necessary to thrive in SOLDIER... and these self-flagellating thoughts were the last thing on his mind as awareness left him.

When he wakes, he wakes to fire, blinding and surrounding, the sight of SOLDIER 3C boots and fatigues in front of him. And it is only as he picks himself off the ground, craning his head up to look who'd come back for him, that he recognizes that auburn hair, swept up under the sheer exertion of spell casting, the winds around them lashing wildly. Questions of how long he'd been casting, when he'd found him -- they lingered in the back of his mind, but only one thing stuck out, what gripped his chest was the simplest thought:

Genesis came back for him, fought for him.

And as the fires die down to a burnt camp, his capturers rendered into either charred carcasses or cut down with the efficacy and cruelty only a SOLDIER could muster, Angeal faces his would be savior... and the absolute fury present on his face, because he wasn't done, not yet.

He still remembers the absolute bite of Genesis' words, a tirade that seemed never ending in the other's criticism of Angeal's beliefs and stubborn hard-headed nature, and yet each insult seemed to simply slide down his shoulders as he picked himself up on unsteady feet, not missing how hands immediately snapped to steady him with a grip borderline painful, refusing to let go. And maybe it was the thoughts he'd been simmering with earlier that bring up the watering of his eyes, or maybe it's simply the smoke surrounding them. Maybe yet this had been the first time he'd been faced with the reality that he wasn't immortal simply for being SOLDIER, something he'd been vaguely aware of but never been willing to test. Emotions ran high, and just as Genesis seemed unwilling to let go of his uniform, so was Angeal in need of contact.

To reassure himself. To reassure Genesis. To reassure them both that it was okay now.

The other is still in the middle of a rant, questioning if Angeal was even listening, when he reaches forward and drags the fiery SOLDIER into a hug, trying to relieve the tension of the whole situation, and the way it grasped his heart in its clutches.

He strayed, and he failed. And Genesis still came back for him. Because if they didn't look out for each other, no one would.

[onewingedxngel]

Starter for @infernocharged 

This had been a foolish decision on Shinra’s part.

He could have easily done this mission without issue, on his own. He was the Demon of Wutai; they all feared him and he’d never failed before. So why had they put a much less experienced SOLDIER into this position? He knew Shinra had to test their SOLDIERs to see if they could go up a class (or down, if the results were disappointing), but this was... too much.

The ambush had separated them from their group. It had been quick, fierce, relentless. He’d not taken any issue in cutting them down, but the new SOLDIER by his side- Genesis, was it?- was a different story. With how frantic he’d seemed, it was clear that this mission was a jump from whatever the young man had been tasked to do beforehand.

Sephiroth shut his eyes for a moment, reminding himself of what he’d learned of looking after subordinates. Shinra didn’t necessarily encourage it, but was it not the least he could do?

“It’s over,” he said, looking at Genesis. “I understand you may be in shock- but we need to find our way back to the group. Or, at the very least, out of enemy lands.”

[adventures-written]

“It’s too cold for you to come out here without a jacket on.” (Vash to Wolfwood)

Protective

"The hell it is," he growled, "The desert night might be cold, but I can handle it. I've walked around in the dead of night before." He brushed by Vash to get outside. "If anything, the same could be said about you and your damn jacket when the suns are up and the day is blistering. How the hell do you deal with the heat like that?"

[woroti]

' unlike other opponents, i will remember you fondly ' (Susanoo)

𝙰 𝙵𝙻𝙰𝚂𝙷 𝙾𝙵 𝚂𝚄𝚁𝙿𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙴 passes across his face, eyes glowing in intrigue to mask the remnants of his stunned silence. Predatory god always watching and waiting, Orochi's lips curl in triumph. He is neither here nor there and his presence is an endless creation of nothing: smoke and fog, mirages in moonlight, echoing voices of a chorus in hiding. His fingers grasp at Susanoo's core, reaching and snaking about to ensnare it. Inescapable. It feels as much in the way that the collar of his robes clench tightly in the serpent god's grip.

❛ Should I be honored? That you find our exchange so memorable; that I have made such a strong impression on you? I will not be your opponent for long. ❜

HAND OF FATE. ◈ accepting.

[rcseadorned]

@infernocharged​ |  sender brings receiver a potted plant rather than a bouquet so it will last longer. (Taisha)

A gift? No one had ever brought her a gift before.. What was she meant to say? Thank you? The words hardly had the chance to even rise up before the overthinking took over. What was the reason? There must have been one. Gifts weren’t given freely, not in her case. There was always an exchange. Bring her a gift and she will heal your illness. Bring her a trinket and she will dance for you. Bring her a prize and she might read your future. She was always made to have something to offer in return. But she couldn’t think of what the offering would be in this case.

She stared at the potted plant, as if trying to read the answers on the leaves and petals; but of course it was simply a plant, contained in a delicate vase. She held it close and one of the flowers rested against her cheek as if giving her a kiss. There was a happiness beginning to bloom somewhere inside her but she wasn’t sure how she was meant to show it. 

“ Thank you, ” she said so quietly that maybe only the flower heard it. 

[royalbratprince]

Headcanon + blankets

Headcanon meme | accepting but forever the slowest

“Blanket addiction” was a joke phrase.  Prompto’s, specifically, teasing about how Noctis could wrap a blanket around him, any blanket and anywhere, and fall immediately asleep.  It happened once during lunch at school, but happened a lot when Noct came over to play video games at his house.

Of course, Ignis had known about the “addiction”, but didn’t have a phrase for it.  He just outright hid the blankets when the prince was going to be required to pay attention and not to escape into a nap, but there was only so much success one could have when one’s charge knew about every possible blanket-hiding location in the apartment.  And the Citadel, it had to be said.

Gladio tried insisting that they “lock up” the blankets in a chest or something while on the road.  While Noctis developed some seriously worrying pick-pocketing skills getting the key, it was also discovered that he wasn’t limited to just blankets.  A coat would do.  Oh, sure, he could fall asleep without anything to wrap up in, but that wasn’t as satisfying.

But maybe the less said about being wrapped up in someone, the better.

[ghostofnibelheim]

’ i may not go down in history, but i’ll go down on you. ’ (Genesis)

Dirty Pick-up Lines || Always Accepting!

Was that so? It was ironic enough for Sephiroth to huff a chuckle.

“Sounds like you’re dropping one challenge... only to raise the bar with a much harder one. But I suppose it wouldn’t be like you, if you didn’t complicate things for yourself every now and then. I like a man who can stay true to himself... For the good, and the bad.”

[sepheroth]

[ WOUND ]:          upon noticing a recent injury on the receiver’s person, the sender carefully moves closer, running a thumb (or hand) across the wound in a gentle, troubled manner. (Tseng)

The skin on his forearm was broken and he had gained a few in detailed bleeding, and the wound was ignored by it's wearer. Wasn't something for him to be proud about but nor was the silverette seemingly fazed by it. This entire time the third class attempted to address it and running over by himself over and over about how he'd explain to Tseng what had happened and he shouldn't stress himself out over it when he was clearly still alive and kicking. And occasionally, the barrage of questionings would come. It wasn't disappointment that he could already see, it was increasing worry being told to him that he could predict. He didn't like worrying him about the possibilities of what might've or what could have happened while he was out on a mission. What helped aid him was remembering the hours they talked earlier on during that day. That'd he'd get to return. Shinra's rather confident and did not see any mile of ever the need to worry. They'd often sent him out into lion's den and he always managed to escaped with only a few scrapes all the time. Sephiroth more than not felt maybe he shouldn't have worried about his life either? He had to admit that that was enough to give him confidence. And yes, the boy had quiet obviously had been aware his uniform by the shirt was torn in the few places and he's disheveled and covered in dirt or what some might be able to make as good as the next that he was covered in debris, his pauldrons gained new knicks and scratches, and scrapes too. But at least they did protect him. This wasn't the first time war caused him to dirty or nearly run to rags.

Once he was finally able to meet up with Tseng who would be careful to observe his wound, as much as he would attempt to not yelp both of his eyes would close instantly each time, and he would hiss. Not due to anger but due to it having to stung. It was coupled by the fact that his muscles were sore and he still ached. He'd need time to recover before Shinra decided they wanted to throw him back out. Sephiroth laughed once he remembered that. He laughed because Tseng was tender and careful with him. He laughed because he knew he cared about him and part of him realized guilt start to surface as he was the source for Tseng's worrying. Between each pause while he sat and straightened up to stare his shoulder at the other boy behind him. He winces again only to muffle out a shorter, longer sharp sounding 'ow' only to wince again. "Hey, I-I'm f-fine. P-Please. St-Stop worrying..." says the SOLDIER he who came back almost limping and almost completely out of breathe.