#onewinged tragedy ~ sephiroth

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Emoji Trope Starter | Open

@soldier-lodbrok asked: 🩸 - @ any muse you feel like

Sephiroth had made reasonably quick work on his front, taking on a squad all his own as was expected. He hadn't been intimidated, he never truly was. But, getting used to working with Lodbrok and his team, it was.... Well, not hard, not difficult, he could...handle it, but it was simply...off, to not be closer so that he could be there to fight by their sides.

So, though few would notice given his cool features and mostly tamed movement as he wandered back to base to assess their progress, he was eager and a tad impatient. He had every confidence they were either back already, too, or would be soon.

What he hadn't expected however...was to find Glenn, laid up in the recovery tent. The tame steps turned into a sprint, until the young warrior was at the mans side, nudging past some of the medical attendants.

"Glenn, what happened...?!" he demanded, voice a little shaky, trying to get a look at their notes, but he was only asked to calm down, which he wasn't listening to. It wasn't the first time he'd seen anyone on the team injured, but this... The man looked like he had at least one or two broken bones, and quite a bit of scarring, it was hard to tell if he'd faced human enemies or friends. Or both. Glenn was certainly fool enough to face both. His voice became more serious. "Who did this...?"

He barely heard any explanations, from the attendants or from Glenn himself, all he could do was stare at the injuries. Injuries that could've been avoided if he was there. Injuries that could have been avoided if these battles didn't keep devolving into horrible extremes. Injuries he just...couldn't take.

Blue green eyes turned a bit colder, the voices speaking to him turning into more and more of a muddled jumble. "...I will return." he looked to the nurse. "Take care of him."

And then he turned, intent on seeking out the ones to blame. If anyone was left, Sephiroth would make short work of them.

[ghostofnibelheim]

onewinged-tragedy​:

The wind did leave him, as he huffed out, back hitting the table hard and now he was pinned under a firm hand that he was reasonably sure he couldn’t shove away from. That idea was a little thrilling, and not at all surprise. He caught his breath, smirking up at the other as he called him irritating, expressed his confusion for Reno’s apparent lack of survival instincts, then proceeded to call him a fool or adrenaline junky or both.

But he moved a hand to grip the others wrist. He wouldn’t bother trying to do anything with that grip, he wasn’t sure he could manage, and currently didn’t see the need to move. So much of his mind and body screamed DANGER, but then, so much of it screamed, MORE. And he found himself listening to the latter more prominently.

“You think too much sometimes…ya know that…?” he retorted in a strained voice at first, before laughing and coughing a bit.

“Maybe I get off on it–testing the boundaries of what will be allowed, what will get me punished, what will get me killed.” he chuckled again, then quirked his head, looking the other man up and down, and his chest pressed up into the touch still meeting his exposed chest, trying to sit up defiantly as the leg he’d propped up nudged against the others hip.

“I’m living with one purpose, man, my soul is bound to ShinRa. Doesn’t mean it always was. A wild animal, barely tamed, kinda tends to get restless. And with my fate sold to the cause, why should I not test the limits to see just exactly what’s waiting for me if I’m fucking daring enough to try?” he retorted.

He tried again to lean up, gripping Sephiroth’s forearm a little harder.

“Am I fool? Maybe, yeah. So what are you? And who do you really show what you are to?”

What a blabbermouth. Were it any other person, Sephiroth would suspect it was out of nerves that the redhead talked so much at a time like this, but no. He’d had him around long enough to know this was simply how the man acted twentyfour-seven. How could Reno possibly hear himself think, when his tongue never stopped long enough?

Boredom and contempt, that was what his features displayed to the provocation from the Turk.

Slowly, he leaned forward just enough, so close the electric hue of the agent’s eyes were clear and in detail to him, but not enough for his breath to touch the other’s skin. Carefully measuring the pressure he put on the other man, in a physical and psychological sense.

“My enemy.”

He replied that final question alone, implicitly answering the one just before as well.

Because he was nothing more than a weapon. An executioner. Just another tool like the man under him in the hands of President ShinRa.

[neko-mun-rp]

@onewinged-tragedy

“I hope you’re looking for trouble Turk, because that’s all you’re going to find if you stick around here.” Sephiroth said in a cold smooth tone to the redhead. Reno always had a habit of coming around and trying to press his buttons. A very dangerous game to be playing with a first class, especially with Sephiroth who didn’t hesitate to send someone to the medical ward. Reno has been lucky enough to go unharmed so far, only because Sephiroth found his attempt at messing with him entertaining.

[projecth-aileth]

@onewinged-tragedy

He had rarely seen her out, as she was one of the ‘projects’ Hojo liked to keep to the shadows as he worked, he assumed, to perfect her (he would claim she was a part of the project, but the claim was so lax and almost inviting someone to challenge him so he could brag, and Sephiroth was no fool--he knew the grooming of  a tool or weapon when he saw it). Today, however, was different--were they allowing exposure as a part of her growth? He couldn’t yet say, he’d never found the patience to really care.

But something about how she’d look at him, and stare...it tugged his attention lately, and he was drawn by instinct, really, to begin staring back and observing her.

So when she was left at the Science Departments table in the mess hall, with nothing before her but a few simple small samples, he couldn’t say for sure of whether or not their were her pick, or her designated meal by others. Either way, it was pitiful. So he took up his platter, half eaten, and still with meat and a bagel and various other necessary food groups, and he marched over to where she had been left ignored apart from the bored gaze of an intern, and he slid the platter before her.

He waited for her eyes to meet his, feeling that instinctual tug once more, before muttering, “They have horrible taste in food. Give this a try. If they complain, tell them I gave you my leftovers.”

With that, he turned and made his way out.

There wasn’t exactly much going on in her head as far as thoughts went, the girls mind slowly catching up to the extreme growth forced on her body with constant exposure to time materia. She’d reached the proper ‘age’ to start more invasive testing and training and since the spell wasn’t needed anymore they’d removed the feeding tube and were attempting to get her to eat normally… but she didn’t know how. She sat staring at the humans to learn and the white-coat that had brought her didn’t help- only sat tapping away on a data-pad.

She was always drawn to him; eyes managing to locate that silver hair no matter what. It seemed to intrigue the Professor, those creepy glasses glinting and him feverously making notes. It was the same here, inhuman eyes locking on to their mirror, unblinking in their wide searching gaze.

She couldn’t speak yet, and this was the first time anyone had directly addressed her. Sitting quietly and reaching for a small piece of food from his plate as he walked away, tilting her head at the morsel and the pull that grew and stayed the further away he went. The white-coat now paying attention, because of the interaction, furiously typing out something to send Hojo; notes that spurred his research into another project he was hiding.

[chocobohaired]

x @onewinged-tragedy

Doubts. So many doubts. Regrets permeating his anxious mind. Cloud found it hard to think straight with everything rushing through his mind. His friends’ disappointed horror. Sephiroth’s irresistible allure. The fear that he’d made the worst mistake of his life getting this close to Sephiroth. 

He tried to hide away, to think, but it just seemed to make things worse. He was almost panicking by the time Sephiroth found him. He wasn’t surprised that the man would find him so easily. He always did. 

Being touched, held, always calmed him. He often felt like he had an ache deep down to his bones, and it always eased up the moment Sephiroth touched him. Now was no different, and he immediately leaned into the silver-haired man’s embrace. It would have been embarrassing if he hadn’t been so out of it. 

“Seph--” was all he managed to get out before he was kissed. A soft sound left his lips in response. It immediately calmed some of his raging anxiety. Like a balm for his mind. 

Sephiroth kissed with burning, addictive, irresistible passion. Cloud wrapped his arms around his neck without thinking, body pressing up against him as he kssed back. He didn’t want to think, didn’t want to doubt and regret. It was easier not to when he had Sephiroth’s intense presence to focus on, especially like this. 

[hiislegacy]

[Continued from HERE]

Cloud looked up at him, wanting to back away as far as he could, but he felt so planted in place. It was as if that sharp gaze were near-petrifying him to stay put. He hated what was being said, and how it truly felt like his entire being was on display for the other to see so easily. Every worry, and concern was etched perfectly on his face, and Cloud tried to avert his gaze to lessen that blow to his dwindling self-esteem.

“I’m not... not a hero…” That was so hard to admit out loud, but the words came tumbling out in a short mumble. He had always wished he could be, like Sephiroth had been for him, but instead he was just some mercenary-for-hire, and not what at all his closest friend had hoped him to be.

| @onewinged-tragedy​ |

[makoeyedmerc]

I got tagged by @reaperlight on my main, but since all my current WIPs are Final Fantasy related, I’m posting from this blog! Thank you, Reaper! 💕

Rules:  you have to share the last line from your latest WIP and then tag the same number of people as there are words in that line.

****

Sephiroth chuckled, his own gaze falling to stare greedily at Cloud’s lips. “If it will help balance the scales between us, you may take what you want from me, Cloud.”

That low baritone purr went right through Cloud like a shock, and he tensed, gasping as what felt like every nerve ending in his body lit up with pleasure at the same time. The sensation retreated to leave him breathless and flustered, and he might have bolted if it hadn’t been for the almost inaudible sound of pure want that fell from Sephiroth’s lips.

Cloud could feel the tension radiating off of Sephiroth’s body, the fingers on his jaw tightening subtly and sending another frisson of desire through him as he raised his gaze back to Sephiroth’s. What the hell, why not?

***

With five words in the last line, I suppose that means I’m tagging five! @my-one-true-l @onewinged-tragedy @the-wintry-mizzenmast @yuneyn @pyreneese No pressure! 🥰

[dreamsofasoldier]

[Because Seph is a little shit] FMK -- Kunsel, Aerith, Cloud

                       » » ❖ FMK OPTIONS │ @onewinged-tragedy — » ACCEPTING  

❖ │ │ ♛ ━━

        ❝ WHY?! ❞

           The raven can’t believe he has to pick between these people.

        ❝ I guess ... Fuck Kunsel and Marry both Aerith and Cloud. ❞

            Ain’t no one going to die. If someone really had to die then he guesses Aerith because she does die by Sephiroth’s hands.

[azure-steel]

@onewinged-tragedy​ said: [upon request for Sephiroth bullying] *Tragedy Seph proceeds to poke your Cloud with Masumune* Seph Bullies Cloud Week~

Though he’s quite sure Saphie is chuckling her tits off at this unfortunate circumstance, because aren’t all mundane’s just so cruel to muses they pertain to love...?

Cloud, on the other hand, is taking quite the exception to being poked, yet again, with a sharp thing and it shows with sheer amount of shade he’s throwing the asshole responsible. 

“Unless you want me to use that thing to turn you into a kebab I suggest you please refrain from poking me with it... stop it.” 

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Closed Starter | Sephiroth and Genesis | @hoshinierabareshimono

Today had been another restless day. The past few months back at headquarters, back in the milling around in the halls, in the cafeteria, in the labs occasionally yet far too often, and expected for simple interviews, had been a strange experience. It wasn't bad or wrong, it wasn't good or a relief, certainly not with the whirlwind of things he'd been experiencing between war and defections and so on for the last year or so but...

But he was still disconnected, he was...well, not lost, but aimless beyond simply following expectations. He needed something not expected. He needed to flex his own thoughts and instincts, and this was exactly what he found himself needed off and on for the past month...which meant sneaking beyond security, keeping beyond the watchful eyes of those in charge of SOLDIER members as well as the very man technically in charge of HIM/his health, and doing his own thing.

He was currently committing to such by opening up one of the panels and working through the different programmed scenarios, looking for something new yet unconventional. He wasn't looking for extensive or intense training, or true training either. He just needed to be active, work his mind on pointless things, of his own choice.

His own choice...

He was just getting the simulation started up, he only need enter the room...that's when he heard it. The thud and clack, faint as it was, was an unmistakable footstep. He shut down the simulation immediately, and moved to the nearest wall, ducking to hide and wait around the corner, his movement soundless as he had certainly learned it.

He waited with bated breath, instincts high, deciding to keep where he was, mostly shadowed by the corner he was in, and ready to make a run for it depending on the rank of employee he was to face. He was NOT going to get caught.

But then, finally, what he was met with....was a red head, near his height, and moving carefully in SOLDIER 2nd uniform. He was...sneaking...clearly. And his attention was on high alert. Sephiroth would be noticed eventually, but he was feeling something strange bubble in his chest as this young soldier was making careful steps...to the simulator. Finally, the feeling bubbled over.

Amusement.

And he chuckled under his breath, containing it as the other wiped around to face him, and he spoke up finally. "...You...might want to work on your stealth, Second..."

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Things Done While Sparring Meme | Open

@chosenbythecrystal asked: [ ARRIVE ]:     just as the receiver is about to lose hope and become defeated, the sender arrives at the last minute to help them fight their enemies. (Reverse so Seph saves the day)

Insurgents usually weren't an issue. Not for Sephiroth, at least. The 'team' sent to the small town was, as he usually assumed, for show. Heavy forces, he could manage within thirty minutes or far less. Smaller forces and the time ticked down lower and lower.

But, Sephiroth had gotten ahead of himself on a few fronts. One, he did not expect organized groups over crooks, and certainly not organized groups with trained beasts to boost their power of attack. Two, he did not expect the only other SOLDIER present, a 2nd, to rush in like they were equals. No sense the usual process, none at all. Surely some awareness of the danger, but even so, reckless in Sephiroth's mind. Because he was the fighter, he was the one sent to end things, quickly, and leave those around believing the best in ShinRa, and if its not the best, than at least they know their swift power.

But things shifted in ways that, for once, Sephiroth didn't expect. He'd taken down most squads, but there were two groups left with at least two ferocious hounds each, one gifted with elemental magic. And the third group? Some dwarfed behemoth--smaller in size, but still sizable and just as dangerous, moreso because it's increased speed due to it's size.

The 2nd had manage to take down one squad, and started on another as Sephiroth was dealing with the third. But the 2nd was overwhelmed, with one insurgent left, and the behemoth being sent to claw him into ribbons.

Sephiroth watched from afar, and with lightening reflexes, he sighed as he carved down the last group and made a swift move to leap. Moving like a flash of light, he arrived to tower over the 2nd and sent a blast of thundara to disable to insurgent and throw off the beast before gifting it threat swift slashes that just faintly made sharp noises through the air.

The dwarf behemoth crumbled to the ground, sliding up to their feet and release it's last, hot breath. Sephiroth whipped the blood of masamune, and then slowly turned to look down to the SOLDIER he'd just had to save.

"...Have you had enough?" he asked. His voice was calm, one could almost assume giving the situation he was taunting, but his tone was easy and without judgment. But, the 2nd had jumped in when he wasn't needed, and this is the consequence. He wanted to see how he'd face it, now, with a moment to breath.

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

"Shut Up" Kiss Meme | Open

@hoshinierabareshimono asked: [From hoshinierabareshimono's Genesis, for Sephiroth - 'cause Genesis being speechless for once, and for the right reasons at that, is too precious:] [SILENT] The receiver's kiss renders the sender momentarily speechless.

There had been too much talking, on both ends generally, but moreover from the red head, and it seemed to be getting them nowhere. Every other word seemed at the risk of pushing them in the wrong direction, and this was simply one moment Sephiroth could not allow to slip and shatter on the ground, like so many others.

For once, he would take this preciousness in hand, cradle it gently like the treasure it is, and protect it with all he had. Or so, he hoped. That is what led his hands to cup Genesis' face, firmly and then so tenderly, and what led nervous, inexperienced, yet sure lips to meet the others. He could risk his lips moving as much as he desired, not when he could not be sure what their press would bring. But he had to see. He had to try. And to feel Genesis' lips, finally, after silent and tormented days, months, years on end...?

It was breath taking and more than he could have imagined.

So when he had parted them once more, still standing close, but lips removed, and hands slowly falling away, save for brushing stray hairs from Genesis' eyes, he began to get....worried. Genesis was uncharacteristically quiet, and he wasn't sure yet if that was for better or worse.

"...Curse me to the depths, if that was wrong, and I will take it. I just...didn't know what other way...to make you understand...Genesis."

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Be Honest... Meme | Open

@sometimesrufus asked: "Sephiroth, be honest... have you ever thought about what it would be like with me at the head of the company?"

Sephiroth was mostly thankful for an excuse to be parted from the claustrophobic throngs of the business party, as too many talkative and social members had flooded in, in the last hour or so. He could socialize. He just preferred not to, in these arenas.

So, taking a few glasses and finding a semi private table with Rufus Shinra was, for the moment, appreciated, even if the visit was nothing but suspicious, especially when that question was asked. They were not strangers, but they didn't exactly work together much. But it's hard not to pass another Shinra possession and prodigy with how various figures within it's halls saw fit to shove and push them to grow into their best selves.

Sephiroth knew better than to take the question too lightly. He could imagine the many thoughts and considerations and...dare he say, schemes that could be running through the mans head. He was smart, to find ways to network with important figures and pawns within ShinRa while his father was still in power. And now he was basically asking Sephiroth's opinion. He would love to be blunt, but instead, he would be only half blunt, while still making use of carefully chosen words.

"Any ShinRa employee would be a fool not to be looking to the future. I wouldn't say, however, that it's an expectation of me to consider and therefor it hasn't been a constant thought. I'm a SOLDIER, and orders are my responsibility, not my opinions." he explained, taking a sip of his champagne. Useless as it was to drink, he enjoyed how they mixed this brand. He looked to Rufus then, emerald eyes with slit pupils considering him.

"But if you want to know what I expect? ...Many changes. I suppose we'll have to see, if they're for the better or worse. Sir."

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

@mezzomorendo | Zack and Sephiroth | Closed Starter

If ever the spawn of calamity had claws or teeth to latch and tear, they were certainly used, even if only energetically, in his greatest time of need. The desire, the intent, the burning hissing drive to return, tangible and living, even if in a form beyond what he once was, it was driving every last essence of his existence. It would burn, tear, and destroy to reach its goal--the existence stolen from him...

But it would take sacrifice. So many parts of him, memory and self, had been stolen by the cruel waves, and more he found himself given up to climb further...and now, power. Power that kept him going, but it would be the last sacrifices to finally reach the surface as the purest form of himself.

It was worth it. The core of him was all that mattered anymore as everything else clearly had become worthless, given it had brought him to this point in his existence, fighting erosion and a ceased existence. And as he clawed and climbed, he gripped whatever threads he could weave into ties and ropes, bound to the anchor that was...Cloud.

That energy, it was still connected, and permeated outward, even more so with the taint of all his malice and cruelty in that dark infection being deemed Geostigma. He would have his return, to power and self, to the divine figure he was meant to be...the...what...was it...again?

A purpose. He had a great purpose. It was stolen. He would take it back, even if by force. And by force it was, his newly reformed body feeling as if it was tearing forth from some stubborn fabric of reality. He stumbled through the deathly cold of Modeoheim, bare form raw to existence, but his will determined as ever. Reckless and stubborn, he ignored the needs that giving up unnatural levels of power had left him victim to--hunger, rest, thirst, so on--and marched on.

Back towards...Midgar. A defiant city forged at the very corners of corruption. Foolish, yet almost admirable. Almost. Every step he took drew emotions swimming around in the back of his mind, and every new corner brought sight and sensation of those afflicted with Stigma. It brought a great satisfaction, a thrill, a push to continue one to see their despair. If he could feed off of it, he would.

This city, it was here that he felt the threads tied to his anchor drawing him. He had not yet decided whether he would claim Cloud by will or by death when he faced him. That detail didn't matter as much right not, not as much as reaching that anchor.

And so, starving, thirsting, and gaunt with weariness, dressed in layers to conceal himself until the proper time, he wandered the edges of the city, head down and following sense rather than vision. It was a miracle he barely bumped into anyone, but he marched on. He felt he was nearing it...that source...it was strange, as if almost felt as if it fluctuated, trying to draw elsewhere, but he knew, that source of connection, memory, and energy was here. He could feel the Geostigma gripping his body.

Careful steps brought him to a building...a shelter? Hmmm...pitiful...an ripe with weakness. He sneered under his hood, vicious green eyes skating around, finally looking with more than his senses of the energy around him.

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

@azure-steel | Closed Starter | Cloud and Sephiroth

Moments turned to hours, turned to days, to months, to years. Advent Day had left it's impact; negative, frightening, and then cathartic and hopeful. Geostigma still lingered in various corners of the world, in stubborn or loss or struggling hearts, but the cure was closer than ever and those blessed in Edge were the image of the potential of the future.

It had been long enough. The shadow skating the return of daylight had been biding it's time. The returned calamity fell to Cloud's sword once again, the last of his grasp on the corporal having faded in the blessed rainfall, and leaving the belief that the world was safe from such madness once more. So it was to seem, and so it was to be believed. Such was the intention of the shadow.

But the ghost of the apocalypse that was ended before Meteor was cast away, the warped figure referred to as Sephiroth remained. The figure, not a man, not a god, barely existing in any normal sense to even be claimed as a monster either, he had continued on in so many forms after so many deaths already...he knew how to tame his presence and existence, to survive. If nothing else, he would always survive, but he hungered for more. He desired it. It was rightfully his, to claim more. And so he would take it all.

In time.

He seeped through the pain of the world, through the dark infection still fighting purification within the planet and the wretches living upon it. He coaxed the pain to continue to fluctuate and grow, but he knew better than to push it any further, or himself. He had to contain his existence, if he was to make another try at reclaiming his right as this worlds god. He continued as he had before, after those remnants had come and gone through their own existence; tapping into and tasting the remains of memory and fear bound to his memory, and it kept him empowered in his lessened state. But it was the anchor that kept him flowing on...and it was the anchor that kept drawing him...

Most especially when that source of all his greatest connections to the corporal, the real, and the living continued to think of him, even if only fleetingly. There was a wicked pleasure every time he felt it, like a whisper of his name, and he drank it in, no matter whether it tasted of rage, of sorrow, of fear, of confusion...every taste was the greatest tonic.

Cloud would always be his resurrection. He was ready...to remind him of that fact.

He could feel it now, a distant thought, a flickering of rage and disdain, and a sense of longing... Oh, did the last hero of a damned species miss the fight, just as he did? Oh perfect.

Cloud....

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Quotes That Broke Me | Open

@mezzomorendo asked: ❛ don’t look at me! i don’t … i don’t want you seeing me like this. ❜ [[for sephiroth]]

Zack was...crying.

Zack was crying.

They had only been talking half an hour ago, and Sephiroth had sought out the First Class SOLDIER once more. Before had been official business, talking possible upcoming missions, but now was simply...because, the days always felt easier, the longer the interacted, the more often. Sephiroth was drifting on autopilot, a state that took over often these days.

Autopilot was safe. Save for a collection of protected, precious moments with the raven haired male, that was the state he stayed in to protect his daily stability. He could not falter now. Too much depended on him, especially now. Strong was all he had left, and he couldn't let it slip anymore than he already had.

And yet now, here he stood, in the VR training room, which he proceeded to lock the moment he recognized what was going on. But as Zack stuttered and tried to turn his back, to cover the display of what was happening, to what was so clearly some level of a breakdown, Sephiroth couldn't be bothered to head the request, nor remember why strength was so important, at least not enough to figure how to demand it of Zack right now.

It wasn't necessary, for Zack. It wasn't necessary, because hearing the strained sobs, seeing the tears, feeling the sadness coming off the other man...he understood.

He walked over to him, standing there above him for a few more moments as Zack tried to pull himself together but continued to fail, despite the frustrated noise of effort. The frustration that he couldn't keep himself together. The heavy weight of all this brimming to the surface. Sephiroth didn't need to ask the why's or what's, for he knew; their connections and the depths and ways of them may be different, but he knew they both bore the same despair, the same grief, and the same weight of responsibility.

"Zack..." he spoke, his voice addressing him to garner his attention, almost close to any usual cool commanding tone he might have, but the careful tenderness was brimming, before it dropped to a voice far more careful the he ever usually used. "Look at me."

Zack resisted, and so Sephiroth put careful but firm hands on him to turn him. Knelt before the other man that had been hugging at his knees and who seemed to be recovering from some level of hyperventilating. He knew the signs, perhaps a recent attack.

Sephiroth was to bear the weight and never shatter, he knew this, but...Zack...

He took a breath, reaching to cup the back of Zack's neck, and drawing the younger SOLDIER to press into the spot between his shoulder and the nape of his neck, the few places with exposed skin for direct contact.

"...I know..." he spoke, almost soundless, but with those two words, he took shuddering breaths himself, heaving another out as he wound his arms tight around the other. "I know."

That strength...

It was shattering.