#recalcitrant redemption

[reigning-rhapsody]

Bittersweet

Strifesodos, past Gengeal; 2841 words

No TWs

The ear piercing noises of pots and pans and what sounded like now unusable plates briefly silenced the patrons crowding Seventh Heaven and let about everyone in the bar flinch in unison- all but one. Cloud merely quirked up a brow as his head shot towards the kitchen where the newest member of the staff, though it had been months since he’d joined and kept some work away from the ever so eager-to-work Tifa, had been on duty to cook for the evening.

I am, by no means, a great cook, he’d warned them at first, which turned out to be more than true, but his tastebuds didn’t lie, nor did his memory. He could tell what needed more salt and what had to stay cooking on the stove just a bit more until it was at its best, and he knew quite a few recipes for someone that, apparently, was no good as a chef. He wants to evade working any more than just as a bartender, Cloud assumed at first exactly because of that, but as good as the man was when it came to acting, as he had proven quite a few times, what he told was no lie.

Tifa insisted he should try cooking, and Gaia, it was worse than Marlene’s mud-pies from when she was younger. According to Barret, at least, who entered the establishment with a growling belly longing for a meal right as their chef in the making had finished his… attempt. A burnt pot and sore stomachs were the victims in the aftermath of Genesis Rhapsodos’ cooking despite everyone who passed him in the process paying attention to him wearing the glasses he was supposed to have sitting on his nose.

If one wanted to trust the promises given by Tifa, who insisted that teaching her new co-worker how to make some proper dishes was essential, he was a fast learner, and occasionally he even suggested to make a few meals he had memorized. No one knew as to why it was that he had recipes in mind, but no one bothered to ask either. One thing was clear though, the guy sure liked apples.

“Cloud, can you check on him?”, Tifa’s voice rung behind the blond addressed by it, barely able to be heard as the chatter and laughter picked up among the patrons again. She was busy, carrying two trays with food and drinks and a plate on one of her outstretched arms on top of it, so it was understandable she didn’t even wait for an answer and moved to the table that awaited their order. His next delivery would be in about twenty minutes and as slow as he could make himself walk, to evade whatever mess just occurred behind that door a few feet ahead of him would was impossible. Better get it over with quickly.

With a sigh, Cloud turned fully to face the direction of the kitchen and closed the gap that separated him from the door with a few swift steps slipping past filled tables. The blond swung the door open while his unoccupied hand rested in the pocket of his baggy pants. “Hey, the hell-?” He started, cutting himself off as his Mako infused gaze fell upon a kneeling Genesis staring at the floor like he was about to propose to it. Or rather, to the soup on the ground surrounding an upside down pot, porcelain pieces of what once upon a time were bowls circling the romanticized mess like ivory rose petals.

Genesis didn’t look up, nor did he answer, nor did he acknowledge Cloud and pretended the delivery boy wasn’t even present. He picked up the shattered vessels meant for the customers to eat what he begrudgingly prepared out of, seemingly doing his utmost to keep his eyes averted, or fully hidden to begin with.

Cloud narrowed his eyes and stepped forward so the door could fall shut behind him, swaying in and out of the room a few more times and allowing whatever curious mind sat in the much busier space of Seventh Heaven to catch a last glimpse of the scene playing out in the no-customer space, although who was sunken on the ground being covered by Cloud standing in front of him. He approached Genesis, both hands now in the confided space of his roomy pockets as he simply stared down at who he usually had to crane his head back for to make eye contact. Seeing someone who held himself so highly on the floor picking up shards with his own hands, it was amusing in a slightly sadistic way to say the least.

He knew that speaking up would only end in a discussion, then an argument and then a passive aggressive verbal fight that could break out into something physical at any given second. At least it sounded like that, anyway, but if it was the truth stood in the stars since the pair usually got interrupted when they got into another of their near daily banters. So he kept quiet and stayed put until the slender ginger would say the first word. And so he eventually did, pausing his task to exhale a defeated sigh and with what was left of his pride for the day.

And yet, he didn’t look up. “Not. A word.”, Genesis punctuated with a clearly irritated voice and Cloud just replied with an entertained huff. “Need help?”

“No.” “Uh-huh.” He didn’t have the time to put up with the mage’s stubbornness and crouched down, reaching out to grab the pot whilst his eyes remained on the culprit of the ruined meal. Finally eye-to-eye, Cloud noticed the missing black frame supposed to reach behind Genesis’ ears, “So, let me guess…”, the younger man started, turning the pot around and holding it by the handles, “You knocked this all over because you’re not wearing the glasses?”

That earned him a venomous glare, but an exposed one. Unlike Genesis’, his own vision was just fine, and thus not spotting the black supposed to be added to the color scheme around his face wasn’t just an illusion. “I don’t need them,”, the redhead barked back, “As I’ve told you before. You all are being dramatic over nothing at all.”

Hearing him out of all people judging what crosses the line of being too dramatic made Cloud snort and shake his head at how ridiculous that was, much to the wannabe-cook’s further annoyance. They locked eyes, three triplets and one glassy, milky-white outcast cataract.

The cracks scarring the porcelain skin roped themselves from his left eye over the same side of his cheek, shimmering through the applied makeup that attempted to hide them in vain as it had been vanishing with the sweat glistening on the man’s face from standing in a hot kitchen for hours on. Like veins dotted with thorns, they reached down his neck, reaching over the visible parts of his equally pale chest that was exposed due to the button up Genesis wore being partially undone. He could only guess how much of his body they tainted. They are what caused that vision problems too, as he’d been told by Genesis.

“I know I’m just mesmerizing, but make yourself useful if you refuse to let me handle this on my own.” An arrogant voice pierced Cloud’s zoned out thoughts and he blinked himself back into reality, not having the best experiences with anything piercing him. If it wouldn’t have been a vocal trigger that brought him back though, it would’ve been the smell of something burning.

“Agh- shit!” Genesis cursed under his breath and got on his feet again, groaning at his aching legs that fell asleep staying in the same uncomfortable position for some time. Cloud followed and watched the man place down the pieces of the bowls he’d already picked up next to the stove where a pancake was smelling like the victims of his flames- although it wasn’t on purpose for once.

Another swear muttered as he turned off the heat, or at least what Cloud assumed to be one since it was spoken in the ginger’s native language, and grabbed a spatula that rested on the workspace to his right to try and scratch the pitch blackness off the bottom of the pan. After some hard work was put into saving what could be saved, or what he hoped to save at least, that being the pan, Genesis put the inedible dessert on a nearby plate flipped over.

Both pairs of eyes in the room stared at it in silence, Cloud approaching with caution like what was sitting there was a Behemoth about to jump up and eat both of them whole whilst minding the puddle of broth, veggies and meat on the floor. He then stood next to the creator of the ‘food’ and stared it down. Roasted darker than his outfit, the smell was absolutely unappetizing and nothing looked appealing about it at all. It even took he blond a bit to figure out that there were apple slices mixed into the darkness, swallowed by it like stars during a cloudy night sky.

“Well… not that it was satisfactory, anyway.” Genesis admitted in defeat, much to Cloud’s surprise, although his ego must have been knocked down a few from their earlier confrontation. He might even go as far and claim he saw the slightest, embarrassed blush tinting the ex-SOLDIER’s pale cheeks, though mentioning it would only result in more than just a pancake ending up scorched.

“How the hell did you survive this long?”, Cloud asked with a wrinkled nose.”

“Thank you for your, as always, comforting words.”

“And what do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. It’s-”, Genesis took a deep breath, tightening his ponytail by dividing it into two strings in his hands and pulling, “There was never a need for me to learn how to cook. As a child, we had someone that cooked for us, and when I went to Midgar I first lived off of cafeteria food.. which I, eventually, resented and blatantly refused to eat. Then it was takeout, mostly, and once we became firsts we got an apartment together, so I had Angeal cooking for me.”

The drop of his name briefly silenced Genesis who still had his leer cast upon the failed attempt of a pancake. His lips thinned and he swallowed dryly, hands placed flat on the surface of the workspace. He exhaled a breath through his nose and his shoulders twitched weakly in a half-chuckle. “‘You’ll stay out of the kitchen when I’m cooking. You’re banned from the stove, Gen.’”, Genesis mocked a deeper voice to the best of his abilities, a bittersweet smile curling on his lips, “Sugar sweet, no? I never needed to learn how to make anything for myself. It was a thing I had done for me, and people never minded, either.”

“Not that that would have gotten me to start learning.” He added after another few seconds filled with nothing but the mechanical whirring of the fridge a few feet away from them. “Angeal, he uh… He loved cooking, but baking even more. The pie he made was to kill for, and whenever he made it, I would sit there and watch. Talk to him, sometimes even help. Providing he let me, that is.”

Finally, he looked up again and turned his head to look at the other swordsman. “No matter what I will make, it won’t live up to what he did.”, his head then hung low once more, “Nor would it satisfy him.” The normally so confident and boasting voice, teasing and preaching highly poetic metaphors nobody but him understood, grew lower in volume, quieter with every word vocalized and brought to live by it, although it sounded dead, unenthusiastic. It wasn’t a voice that fit Genesis.

“Or me.” His hands visibly gripped the edges of the big table harder, like he was trying to ground himself so he wouldn’t fall into a void that existed to eat him up from the inside, fill him with the worst of what life had to offer. His eyes fell shut, knuckles turning white and his fingers shook ever so slightly until he straightened his posture to one that equaled that of a candle and let out a shaky breath between agape lips, mismatching eyes fluttering open again. “I should clean this up now. Don’t you have a delivery to fulfill, hm?” Genesis ushered, his intent to get Cloud out and not show any more weakness than what just occurred beyond noticeable. It went under his skin, let the hair on the back of his neck rise and spread goosebumps across his arms.

It was… so damn depressing to witness.

“Ah. Ah- yeah, right.” Cloud reminded himself and reaches for the PHS in his pocket, flipping it open to check the time. He had a few more minutes. Watching Genesis move to a cabinet where a few kitchen towels were stored from the corner of his eye, the blond warrior pocketed his phone again, ran a hand through his artfully spiked hair, took a deep breath that let his chest puff out, counted his blessings and took off a glove with his teeth to grab the round little mistake sprawled out on the plate. Leather glove dropped in his lowered hand once it returned from brushing back the sunny mess on his head, he made sure the golden-brown side was the one facing the floor and placed it against his lips. He swallowed, opened his mouth and took a generous bite.

The first few times of chewing were experimental, eyebrows knitted together and eyes nearly pinched shut, though he discovered that keeping the part which wasn’t tainted by the lord of the Underworld and all evil himself judging by the pitch blackness trademarking it did make it a lot more bearable. Whenever some of the burnt bit brushed over his tongue he just gave it his best to swallow that piece, his tastebuds welcoming the sweet flavor of the apples dancing over it whenever he was lucky to have some in his mouth the more bites he took.

Two down, about two or another three to go. It wouldn’t be a chore to eat it if it weren’t for the burnt side, he had to admit, so Tifa wasn’t lying when she said he improved and was indeed a fast learner.

“You’re insane, Strife.”

Cloud nearly choked on the load of pancake occupying his mouth the moment Genesis caught him forcing down the food. He cleared his throat and properly swallowed what was left on his tongue. He ‘tch’ed, glaring at the dessert like it was his worst enemy. “I didn’t eat anything yet today’s all. Don’t want Tifa to get on my ass for not eating again.” “And how would she know?” “She… just does- you should be glad I’m making what she’ll say to you less worse.” The sunny haired man silenced himself by ripping another huge piece out off the pancake, so much it only left one last bite instead of a possible three. Although his angles eyebrows raised into a less hostile expression when he saw the slightest bit of a smile growing on the auburnet’s plush cherry lips. He stopped chewing for just a moment, taking in- no, admiring what he did by refusing to let someone sulk and keep self loathing. “Get out, or I’ll tell Tifa all of what just occurred was your and only your fault.”

Cloud playfully rolled his eyes, though did as told and moved towards the door, no intentions of a further exchange made- not on his side, at least. “Oh, also-”, he was stopped by Genesis speaking up once more, coming to an abrupt halt and half turning around, “You should pay me a visit when I am on cooking duty again sometime, maybe I have more blissfully tasting food for you to devour.”

Cloud snorted, “No promises.”

“Don’t you speak to me with a full mouth, learn some manners.”, Genesis retorted with a playful hum before truly dismissing the other with a flamboyant wave of the hand that didn’t hold a soup-soaked towel.

This time truly exiting, Cloud pushed the last small bite of the pancake into his mouth and chewed with stuffed cheeks, hands returning to his pockets as he eyed the bar counter where the delivery was stored. Forcing down the rest of the half-bitter-half-sweet mistake, he glanced over his shoulder one last time to see Tifa hurriedly moving into the kitchen. He exhaled in amusement at the distant chatter coming from behind the door swaying door before it fell shut completely and blocked out the conversation though. Cloud moved behind the bar to crouch down and grab the package that needed to be driven to Junon and set on his way out of the warm and cozy confinement to let the cold air hit him full on.

Genesis sounded more like himself again, he noted.

[reigning-rhapsody]

Wide eyes stared at the sterling ring presented to him, an alabaster gemstone carefully placed on top of a small podium in a darker shade of decorative and artfully crafted, symmetrical silver. There were a few marks and scratches adorning the well shaped loop, but in no way did it make the gift any less beautiful.

Genesis kept looking back and forth, zoning in and out on the small piece of jewelry and he man on one knee holding it up to him in the exact middle of the both of them- but not daring to raise it high enough for their eye contact to break.

Genesis’ lips parted. They stayed agape, but no words slipped past them, neither did baritone to shatter the silence in the room as the question spoken in the low rumble of a voice was still out in the open, desperately awaiting to be answered.

Will you be mine, forever?

And Genesis was told he was sappy. And he was, as the happy tears assembling in the corners of his eyes confirmed. How couldn’t he be in a moment like that? A stupid inside the of the redhead “proposing” with a ring-pop as a child turned into a vice versa reality he could only dream of. And had been for a while.

He could only guess what debt Angeal probably got himself into for that ring. None, probably, if Genesis thought about how duty-conscious the man was and his distaste for unfinished business of any kind. Nonetheless, it meant he had planned it out for weeks, if not months even, just to hold a promise of something silly that shouldn’t have been taken seriously over two decades ago.

“You’re... going to kill me one day, Geal.” Genesis laughed breathlessly, followed by a furious nod. He joined him on the ground, his husband hugging him and receiving the same hold back. An embrace that spoke of nothing but tender warmth to be shared until the very end and safety, just like the ring that found its way onto his left ring-finger, to be closest to his heart.

The heart that beat with newfound purpose in what he believed to be a miserable existence.

[reigning-rhapsody]

//i have the hc that gen eventually moved on from only apple juice to things like apple cider and then got interested in mixing drinks. in the post-doc time he starts working at 7th heaven at some point (bc plot convenience for interactions and he needs to make a living SOMEHOW). obviously he only knows so much a country born boy pretending to be a city boy can know but he’s a natural at handling so many customers

(he’s not)

[reigning-rhapsody]

Continuing this thread with @angelic-armory​

Maybe I should’ve made it easier. Maybe, yes, but where would the buildup to a heartwarming reunion be? Angeal mysteriously and yet conveniently waiting right outside the cavern which housed him during his slumber- a happy end, but at what cost? There would have been a twist, something to flip it around on them, separate them in the end and make the happy tears shed take a depressive turn down their faces. Rather would he endure days, weeks, months more without his partner than to see him suffer as a payment for reuniting so soon.

They deserved to be together again.

And so they found each other, laying in one another’s arms once more in their lives, just like in all those nights they went stargazing during a pleasant summer or were huddled together in bed on a cold winter night. This time, it was much less romantic. On a tattered mattress laying askew on the floor in the middle of a near empty, rundown apartment, Genesis was kissing his teenage crush, comrade, partner. He would make it romantic, it was something he was sure of being able to do in this uncertain world.

Sweet cherry lips melted against sour ones to create the blissful flavor of adoration believed to be long lost when wings seemed to have given in a while ago. Like a praline, it was coated with luscious chocolate and the uncertainty to take it in fully just yet, like a teenager allowed to try one for the first time. Then the sugared cocoa liquidated and the alcohol flooded a curious mouth, trickling down scarlet kissed lips, numbing the taste buds into acceptance of this new and yet familiar experience. It simply had been a while.

Then he bit down on the cherry. He couldn’t feel the precious champagne tears run over his with wine dyed gloves but tasted his own as they mixed with the sweetness of the two warriors trying to heal their wounds and become whole again with honey. A near-sob masked as a gasp left him to realize he wasn’t the only one drunken off his significant other’s affection enough to spill his drink and gloved hands moved up with liquor flushed cheeks to let his thumb wipe away the result of their booze involving gathering that tender evening.

Angeal broke their kiss, Genesis let him. Mint-Mako marked pools were made visible once more and allowed to catch another glimpse of what is truly his ravenet guardian angel as thick lashes fluttered open. Every hot puff of breath hitting his paled porcelain skin and mingling with his own sent a shiver of anticipation running down the auburn stranded man’s spine as well as another affirmation that this was reality, he wasn’t having a cruel dream in the crystal he sealed himself in.

It was almost like an admonition to not play with fire, the words that came out of the taller one’s mouth. That he wasn’t the same anymore, that he was a changed man- it sounded like he wanted to warn Genesis of the monster he claimed to be ever since he defected from SOLDIER with a gaze of pure sincerity. It also sounded like he forgot that they were two sides of the same coin, and despite it being a warning, the fact that Angeal even assumed he needed to give one getting his chest to ache and tighten up, it also brought an immense sort of relief that, at heart, he still cared, he never stopped. He never would.

“Ah...” was all Genesis replied with at first, his tears having stopped the heavy flow as only wet trails remained down his cheeks. He allowed his eyes to take a look around the interior nothingness the apartment was. It was neglected, barely taken care of- just like the one who resided in it. “You don’t say.” His lips thinned and he focused back on said owner of the flat, his hands moving away from the scruffy face to let one sneak around his middle while the other went to his own face, subtracting the mess of tears still in the corners of his eyes to zero.

“Geal...”, a whispered reminder of who the divine being was to him, a nickname given to him as a child in return of being called ‘Gen’ when his full name was too difficult to process for a young mind. The shorter of the pair sighed and leaned in, kissing away any excess tears from fatigued eyes that matched his own in a neon glow, his now free hand brushing a stray strand of grey tinted black behind its owners ear, tangling in it, dark as a starless sky with the intense sterling shimmer reflecting off of each strand twinkling like the suns that lit up the sky.

The ginger’s burgundy wrapped hand gave Angeal’s head a gentle push from behind as anemic tendrils seeped through his fingers like ash, the clothed digits gently combing through the tangled mess and against the scalp, their foreheads resting against one another. “Quite visibly, things aren’t the same, you’re right. I have my doubts about them going back to normality anytime soon as well.”, a soft voice began, and despite barely being above a whisper in volume, it was oozing with a determination to not leave his partner behind, in the dust, let him rot in his own demise.

He lifted his head, lips a mere inch apart as the hue of the Lifestream searched the soul that rested in the matching pools it stared into with such sincerity and tenderness, “And it doesn’t have to, but we can start anew.”, he suggested, slender arm tighening in the half-hug it returned, eyebrows furrowing.

“Would you like to try, together?”

[reigning-rhapsody]

“Nothing shall forestall my return.”

Five days.

That’s how long it took until he reached Edge, until he was back into what one could call a civilization. Until he stopped scavenging in the remains of the city that made him a hero- or pushed the dream of wanting to become one, that is. The admiration that pulled him into the metropolis manifested into pure jealousy, and a deeply rooted hatred aching in his chest when Genesis Rhapsodos learned he’s a monster- and so was his friend, so was his beloved.

Edge was the name of the town people built after... whatever happened that utterly destroyed Midgar and tore it into shambles, let it succumb to the earth and fall into a ruin with nothing but memories being worth anything between dust and dirt. All that ever had been worth anything to the fallen angel was gone aside from his voice that could speak pleas of a hopeless romantic, tales of a heroic trio; One becomes a prisoner, one flies away- and the remaining one, he becomes a hero.

If only it would’ve gone as foretold. Or, rather, without an unpredictable end of the curtains closing on him too son, maybe he would’ve been able to act out as the hero he dreamed of being and in favor of the two once closest to him, those who were imprisoned, those who flew away.

Ten days. That’s how long he remained in Edge as a nobody, introducing himself with nothing but the seventh letter of the alphabet to anyone that asked him for a name and declaring himself a mere traveler. It was almost insulting how nobody recognized him, but Genesis knew that pushing his need for the acknowledgement aside for the time being would be for the best- both for himself and other people. Although, that only lasted until two very loose acquaintances in form of a Turk pair were spotted by Mako infused pools in front of a building under construction. What they told him made this already surreal reality feel like a dream he wouldn’t be allowed to wake up from, and if he was fine with that was uncertain yet.

Angeal Hewley, he lived in Edge according to the Turk duo. The Angeal Hewley, the guy that had been with him from the very beginning until what seemed like the definite end, at least for the noiret man. Genesis thought he was dead, it’s what that lying scumbag of a scientist Hollander told him all those years ago, and now he was supposed to believe the only man that ever received his unconditional love, the only one that ever saw him vulnerable and vice versa was alive after all?

Seventeen days. That’s the amount of time it took until he eventually entered a bar and asked around for Angeal with Weiss parked at the nearest inn for the time being. People knew him,recognized the name here and there, but that was it. No whereabouts, nobody who was but another being trying their best to live anything close to a normal life in the post apocalyptic setting this whole play was happening. Genesis knew better than to reveal being unaware of the events that caused this global, at least from what he assumed, disaster, knew better than to show a loophole in an aloof and superior facade hiding longing feelings, a desire that made him desperately cling onto that tiny slither of hope dangling in front of his face that maybe, just maybe, even if it was just one last time, he’d be able to see his significant other again.

Then he asked the bartender, and she told him to wait until someone named Cloud would come back, and so he did. For hours, even, with a coffee on the house offered by the raven haired woman that turned out to own the bar. It went cold eventually as the poet was lost in his horribly loud thoughts, then the wooden door swung open and he was introduced to the artfully spiked man by the bartender, who’s name turned out to be Tifa.

To be this lucky was almost a form of art, because Cloud did indeed know where Angeal was. The auburnet was directed there, but it seemed his lucky streak had an end, for five minutes of knocking were left unanswered. He sat down on the porch, exhausted with the strain of multiple days, several nights of searching straining his slender silhouette. Too-blue hues could not be kept from being enraptured into a deep darkness any longer with thic lashes fluttering, heavy eyelids failing him and faling shut.

There he sat, passed out, leaned against the wall of a house that could either crush his last hopes or lift them to blossom into something even greater.

@angelic-armory​

[reigning-rhapsody]

Continuing this thread with @angelic-armory

The nickname that stuck with him like it stuck to Angeal’s chapped lips, and has been ever since their childhood, made him huff out a breath of amusement through his nostrils, meant to be a chuckle but all his exhausted body could muster up to deliver was a barely noticeable quirk of his torso in unison with the exhale.”Nobody but a handful of people knew what happened, of course they would claim that.”

His mind traveled back to the fateful day both of the downfall of him as a hero and the accompanied rise occurred. Even though it was his own, one not to be acknowledged until the time was right, he promised himself to be a savior for those who need it. For his lost comrades, or believed to be lost. For those he has hurt and forsaken- but especially for himself. A redemption of sorts.

The silence that follows his question is absolutely nerve wrecking. He had warmth to envelope him, a shoulder to lean on and cry into, someone to seek desperately sought comfort that had been denied to him for what felt like an eternity, and yet the reluctance made him feel cold, unbalanced, alone. He swallowed dryly as mismatched eyes filled with a dying spark of hope peeked through a russet curtain, every second that ticked by filling the room with suspense induced incense more and more, the smoke deriving from it constricting around Genesis to keep an anxious grasp on him.

When Angeal pulled his head away and muttered what caused their current situation, the day he overreacted and ruined it all, the redhead’s lips pressed into a thin line and it took everything in him to not break eye contact and avert his gaze in a fit of shame and guilt. The quivering exhale of an uncertain breath dances against cherry-kissed lips that spoke of great tales and treasure once upon a time, and now all that was sealed away. 

As his partner’s neon blue eyes wandered to the shoulder that caused agony and torment for millions, the symbol of the event truly having happened hidden under ginger locks as well as burgundy and black leather, so did Genesis’, just for a moment and to take a breather. Thick lashes fluttered shut and a deep breath filled his lungs, the carbon dioxide his body didn’t require discarded into the little space between him and the ravenet man. Then his eyes blinked open and once again, their gazes met, though this time it was much less impacting and filled with a certain tenderness.

His hand was taken and Angeal spoke up and his heart felt like a huge stone fell from it with the relieve that washed over him at the approval of his proposal. He knew the answer would be yes, of course it would, Angeal loved him and still did. Why else would he have cried? Why else would emotions welled up in him bubble out at the mere sight of Genesis being alive, hearing his voice, feeling his touch and tasting his lips? And yet, despite that, he was scared, mortified even with that little ‘what if’ sitting at the back of his head, so small but so much louder than all the other thoughts occupying his mind.

Genesis leaned into the warm feeling of a calloused hand against his shattered skin, cracked from the degradation, one of many scars to prove he’s not just alive, but a survivor. Then it was the angel’s turn to ask a question, and it was one he prepared himself for the moment his knowledge of where Angeal Hewley was was expanded on. Not under the earth, but above it and breathing.

What happened?

The poet licked his dry lips, knowing it would be a longer epic for him to retell. “Very well. I had no intentions of leaving you in the dark about it, don’t worry.”, he assured, a gentle leer turning more serious as his brows angled ever so slightly, “Just promise me to not doubt my words, for lying to you is not an option for me. Not now, or ever again.”

Genesis adjusted his position and sat up properly. His head went back to a straightforward and balanced position instead of angling into the craved touch, the hand wrapped in scarlet that a tanned one held onto like it would never let go receiving a soft squeeze. To brace himself, to brace Angeal. “I went back, to Banora. It was where I slept when I could, the cave specifically. You remember for sure, don’t you?” He couldn’t help but smile at the fond memory of how impressed Angeal was when he was first lead to his best friend’s secret base.

“It was there, where he struck me down, your student. I...”, he cut himself off, reluctance tugging at his vocal chords, worry of sounding like it’s a story the poet made up in a spurt of creativity. But he continued, for he was certain the sincerity in his voice, eyes, actions, they got across the truth. “I saw her, the Goddess. Minerva. She graced me, put me out of my misery for good, though not in a morbid way. Despite the torment I caused upon Gaia, I was spared, cured from the degradation and left to realize that my honor, my pride was what truly gifted me... worth.”

“I don’t recall much of what happened then aside from seeing a dumbapple laying there, and one in Zack’s hand, fulfilling my dream of handing one to Sephiroth.” Genesis paused at that, at the name that rolled so easily off his tongue but sat heavily within the room. He sighed, untangling his hands from his partner’s messy hair only to curl it in his own ginger mess as he brushed what was bothersome in front of his face behind his ears instead. “I was taken to Deepground, though it has changed from what we knew about it. A dictatorship, almost, with morbid things happening within. I was asked to engage in overthrowing the leaders of it, though declined, promising to come back when the world would need a hero in yours and his stead.”

“And thus, I went and searched for a place, a quiet and deserted one, which I found. In a cave beneath Midgar, I sealed myself away into a crystallized slumber.” His voice was hoarse, sore. His hand wandered to hover over where Angeal’s heart thumped with a newfound reason to live for underneath impressive pectorals, palm gently pressing there to ground himself. “That plan... Visibly, it did not go as intended. I woke up, about two weeks ago. I think so, that is. I heard about you being alive, and yet nobody knew where but a certain blond man. And now, I have found my way back into your arms, my dear~.”

A silence lingered after his explanation and a weak attempt at making it all seem a little less whatever one may describe the air in the room with a flirt that was much below the usual quality they had coming from him, shattered like porcelain that adorned his cheek by a scoff from Genesis. He shook his head, smiling bitterly. “Silly, is it not? The story, though all my cards are splayed out on the table, as ridiculous as it may sound.”

He didn’t say any more, made no advances to get Angeal to believe him through guilt or pity. Genesis just smiled subtly.

[reigning-rhapsody]

Continuing this thread with @angelic-armory

His whole body was stiff, frozen into a cryogenic stasis for just a few seconds, and despite remaining in the same position like an ice sculpture for those moments, he was so warm. It was something Genesis longed for, desperately, to just embrace the man who made him the pretentious poet he grew to be. The ideas had always been there, but the execution needed funding in form of encouragements, a sponsor in the shape of a certain dumbapple thief who would utilize the tire swing attached to a Banora white tree as a step stool to commit his crimes that were unable to ever be forgiven. Or something along those lines, at least...

A calloused hand reached for one of his own slim ones that clung to the shirt the ashed sterling divine being wore. He didn’t want to pull away just yet, it was too soon, way too soon when the only time he believed when he could feel his guardian angel’s touch again would be in the aftermath when the curtains would’ve closed once and for all on the play of his life. The attempt to reciprocate the intimacy was understood though when caramel tried to mix with sweet cherry. As the recipe required, Genesis let him, interlacing the digits with one another and tightening his grip once more.

Hearing the crystal clear baritone with a slight static noise of what seemed to be rust on the ex-SOLDIER’s voice caused the auburnet to tense up ever so slightly. It was obvious, and it was expected, that it was still the exact same if you subtract the raspy touch it had, and yet it was so weirdly unexpected and magical to an extent where it sent a shiver down his spine. The acknowledgement was returned, and while he was still blanking on what to bring to paper himself, reading off a template for his words would work until he could muster up a newfound courage to think of something to tell his beloved eventually.

“Even if the morrow is barren of promises…”, a softened voice began, barely above a whisper and so much quieter than when he asked about the man that then wriggled out of his embrace, getting Genesis close to complaining and protesting about it. If it wouldn’t be for the fact that Angeal turned around to face him, to look at him, that is. Strong arms, also just as he remembered, wrapped around him and not a single millisecond was wasted to mimic the action of engaging in a comforting hug, one that both needed, wanted so desperately. “Nothing... shall forestall my return.”

He missed him. That’s what he said, so much. “I missed you too, Geal. I have combed through this entire unfinished city to find anything about you- and now we...”, then it hit him; he was being held, and holding, Angeal, the Angeal. It hadn’t dawned on him like it had in that moment, and any acting skills were thrown out of the window as his lower lip quivered and he pulled the taller warrior against him, pressing into him as much as humanly possible, with one hand clutching his shirt, the other running through the long, silvery tendrils as the fallen angel attempted to comprehend any of what was happening to him. He was too fortunate, his lucky streak would truly reach a proper end eventually.

But for the moment, he was crying into his significant other’s shoulder. Lifting his head soon after, messy brunet strands stuck to his cold sweat-clad forehead, to his with tears stained cheeks. He din’t care how many hair were probably in his mouth on accident when both his hands traveled up to press against a scruffy jaw and pull who it belonged to into a kiss that truly gave the word “bliss” a definition.

Genesis had been in love with Angeal since he was 13 and he never stopped.

[reigning-rhapsody]

Continuing this thread with @angelic-armory

A bright vermilion enraptured him, overtaken by an alabaster veil that held the culmination of terror Genesis endured when the degradation was the only fate he knew. A porcelain hand morphed with the nothingness of white that surrounded him, reaching out into, against, though- he couldn’t identify what it was that held him captured. And yet he didn’t feel claustrophobic in any way, even when the ashen void seeped into his veins and corrupted the Mako-mingled blood with another substance that never belonged there to begin with.

His screams were a crystal clear silence, molten snowflakes accompanying paled pearl tears running down chalky sky that was cracking, shattering, a body that was decaying, rotting away into dust, about to combust and be forgotten about as the pain split him apart and tore his very being into pieces. It hurt, so much.

Then he woke up, and he remembered that, no, the agony he experienced, it stopped three years ago and was never to affect him again. Waking up still felt foreign after not doing it for so many days, weeks, months no matter what spot in the sky the sun got comfortable settling in. He promised to rise from his slumber when the need for it would make him, but, as it seemed, he was late, and horribly so. It could be a certain divinity’s call that woke him, the same that made it possible to wake up underneath a blanket instead of a pitch black wing.

A fatigued gaze stared at the ceiling, directly at it and yet focusing on nothing in particular. What he did notice, though, was the much appreciated mattress his sore being had the honor of residing on instead of the usual stone-cold place on the ground he claimed as his own for the few hours the defected warrior allowed himself to sleep. It was a bit tattered from what his burgundy leather-clad fingers could feel as he flexed them, tips of the digits brushing against the worn surface and coming across a hole or two.

He turned his head ever so suspenseful and slowly that it seemed like he wanted to create a surprise in seeing if his predicament of who he truly believed to sit to his right being there. It took so, so achingly long for him to fully face to the side despite the glimpse of broad shoulders he caught in the corner of his eye already giving away that it was indeed him- his guardian angel.

Genesis opened his dry mouth, deserted from the waterfall of words which created the oasis that vaporized entirely the very moment he saw him sitting there, turned away and hunched over. Unkempt, long ravenet roots with a very apparent sterling shimmer to them wrapped their tendrils around the man like a scintillating curtain. Plush, chapped lips met one another again as his mouth shut once more, the desire for words to come out present but the true meaning behind them hollow, just like what truly ended up being expressed in the end.

He was a poet. Artfully crafted phrases were how he expressed himself and they always had been, so why was this so hard- especially when they were supposed to be heard by the one he’d been searching for the past week, day and night and whatever may lay in between that timespan. As hard as he tried, nothing worked, nothing came to mind as much as he wanted anything to happen, just something to make this reunion worthy of being called one.

The auburnet man swallowed a lump in his throat, a breath he silently exhaled shuddering with the sheer fear building up in him. He refused to let it come to a climax though and utilize his acting skills to pretend he’d fall asleep again, getting a grip of himself, the one his counterpart tried to force upon his own very being, and sat up. Pushing the blanket aside and positioning himself right behind the divine warrior in the same blink of an eye to wrap slender arms around him, tightly, holding onto that last scrap of the true gift that remained in the mortal realm for him. Burying his face in one of the strong shoulder that had always, always been there to lean on, he said shakily.

“You’re alive.”, and with just the warmth he longed for so, talking became much less of a chore.

[reigning-rhapsody]

Verse age update

Because “around 25″ on his wiki page is a fat lie.

i was lookin at the timeline page on the wiki and noticed that all three gen, seph and angeal were born in ‘80 while the cc events start at ‘00, so they do have proper ages and not just sumn estimated. my guess is that their pages existed before that was updated and nobody noticed or bothered to fic it so? yea. but now i know so

Mainverse [Rampant Rhapsody]: 25-29 > 20-25

Sideverse pre-cc 1 [Radiant Resilience]: 19-25 > 17-20

Sideverse pre-cc 2 [Resplendent Rise]: 8-19 > 8-16

Sideverse doc [Recalcitrant Redemption]: 34 > 28