#sephiroth。 i desire nothing more but you and your power.

[silverflqmes]

Do you have any hcs for yandere Sephiroth? 👀

໒⦂ ‘𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄’ 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hi hi so uh i don’t do yandere stuff, it’s not a topic i’m super comfortable with writing ( as mentioned in my rules ) but i will provide a more subtle, toned down version if that’s okay instead :’)

genre. angst + suggestive

tw. possessive behavior, implied manipulation, jealousy

disclaimer. there is a visible flip in the headcanons from pre nibleheim sephiroth to post — which takes on a darker approach. if it’s not something you are comfortable with reading, then don’t.

sephiroth x gn!reader.

⌗ as a person who dealt with the loss of those he allowed into his life, having brought his walls down for them.. i do think sephiroth might have developed a bit of overprotective behavior — which honestly, is expected..

⌗ he doesn’t want to lose you or for any harm to come your way. whether losing you refers to death.. or to someone else — he doesn’t want any of that to come to fruition.

⌗ everything in life he cherished has been taken from him and you are not about to be one of them..

⌗ normally he’s as cool as a pickle if you’re talking to someone else, but there’s this aura emitting from him.. one look at sephiroth and the innocent bystander is practically shaking in their boots.

⌗ you of course — would be confused as hell on this.. i mean when sephiroth pulls you closer, you just assume he wants proximity..

⌗ until you go home, that is, and he’s just holding you without any means of letting go.. it’s silly, watching that subtle, yet visible pout of his and the furrow to his brows and all is understood

⌗ piece of you by shawn mendes tbh that is where my brain is rn

⌗ sometimes it’s a little more than an inescapable hug and turns into a storm of kisses — perhaps even a mark or few would be left in his wake.. but nothing that makes you uncomfortable cuz he doesn’t want to hurt or force you into anything. consent!!

⌗ while he has selfish desires and would prefer to have you all to himself, he values boundaries and freedom — it’s something he wasn’t given and he isn’t about to take that away from you, too.

⌗ but if you were trying to get a reaction out of him by PURPOSELY trying to make him jealous.. good LUCK walking in the morning are the only words i have for you LMAO

⌗ there is after care tho trust and it’s all part of the plan because he gets to have you stay over and spend time with him<3 which — despite your grumbles — you are more than happy to do<3

⌗ now uh, post nibelheim sephiroth.. he is a different case cuz he’s under the influence of jenova cells — which are obviously making him do some wild stuff..

⌗ following the concept that you would have said cells opens up the opportunity to mess with you a bit, as a means of getting you to execute his whims. kinda like he does with cloud..

⌗ he’s aware you’re trying to take him back and save him from what he’s become, and uses that to his advantage. you would do anything for him, wouldn’t you?

⌗ slowly, he would isolate you from your companions — they want him gone, anyway, but you don’t. you couldn’t sit with the idea of your lover being gone, even in spite of all he had done.

⌗ you told yourself it wasn’t him, and it was true, it wasn’t. for that.. you wished to continue your attempts at saving him, even if it was a descent into madness..

⌗ gradually, you are succumbing to his words, allowing them to reshape the view you had made for yourself.

⌗ he was right, anyway. the humans who blindly believed in shinra- were the ones that gave the company the power and means of further destroying the planet for their glory. sephiroth was right in almost every way to execute the goals he made for himself.

⌗ he only ever appeared briefly to you, his caresses leaving enough of a linger to leave you touch starved — yearning for contact.

⌗ the one winged angel only whispered soon in that velvety tone of his, a reassurance of the reunion that would be upon you both in time.

⌗ but at times, you pressed, pleading for just another second — minute or few of his time.. and with that desperation in your voice, the expression that crosses your features, how could he refuse you?

⌗ he would spare his precious time and entertain you a moment longer, indulging just a bit in you, and himself, of course. but once more leaving you lingering, longing for more.

notes. not one for writing yandere oriented content, so i hope this was okay and fulfilling enough since i watered it down quite a bit :’) just not super comfy associating him with the qualities of a yandere..

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[ebonyslasher]

Spicy Alphabet: Sephiroth

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Y/n, Clean up time~. And he expects to be spotless as he reclines as you wipe him. Make sure to apply lotion, you absolute beauty. Sephiroth will hold your hand, but let him cover his hair first. And yes, that is your big bonnet he stole.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sephiroth: HIM.

You: Hands. Your fingers were neat and graceful. Watching them wander his perfect body was entertaining. The feel against his soft skin was divine. Bonus points for you if you get them done. Oh y/n, that's fucking arousing. Wrap them around his heavy cock.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Hentai level cum. Purposefully blue balls himself for a colossal load. Sephiroth will hold your legs open to watch his semen flow out of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

While crushing on you, Sephiroth would alter reality many times to pretend you were coming on to him, flirting, being sensual, calling him god.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He tried to be a whore, but didn’t work out. Too standoffish in his youth. Found out he was too picky with his partners. He has a select few (his former close friends) he’s had experience with.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

His version of being goofy is his dry-ass humor… and it's not for the bedroom. You are not amused.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carpet matches thankfully. Y'all know he's groomed to the gods, the fuck.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Weird to see him intimate. You’ll get moments here and there. Does care, it just shows differently. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

His favorite way is spying on you while doing something regular and he jacks off without you knowing. Sometimes he will actually be somewhere near, but you'll never know

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Worship, size difference, affectionate cruelty, energy play, latex, mind control, mutual masterbation, tease and denial

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Any alternate reality you want, the possibilities are endless. The moon? An ice cave? In a lavish mansion? Tell him what you want.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Call him god. Parade around in a latex outfit. A sucker for taking care of his hair and offering servitude cutely, looking up at him with those pretty eyes. Although, it's pleasing to win submission with a fight.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that will negatively affect his appearance, if you stop worshipping him, mention anything about Shinra, talk about Cloud and his posse positively

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Would rather receive. Chocking you with his cock is an experience he adores too much. Seeing your cute brown ass struggle to take it in is too much fun. He'll give if you've earned it. Better do a good job to get that y/n.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast, rough, with some sensuality.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Huge Fan. He's passionate about catching you off guard. Wild man.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yeah, he's down! A powerful being like him can do anything you desire. Ask him for permission and he won't turn you down. He’d fuck you in front of Cloud if he wanted to.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

God level. Can go all day. Literally, you've had to gleefully suffer through a full day of sex. Sephiroth was unbelievably horny that day.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes. He owns a few toys and will use them. He likes to roleplay, so he has props for specific scenes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Head Unfair Bitch in Charge. Sephiroth will leave you unsatisfied if he is not pleased with your performance. AND THEN!!!! Continues to toy with you and edge you at irregular opportunities. He's laughed hearing you dog him out in your mind.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Silent. He will either talk to you or smoothly give orders.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sephiroth will utilize telekinesis to project provocative imagery in your head. Him stroking his massive dick, pre-cum dropping amazingly from his tip. Fingering you open, stretching enough so you could see the inside of yourself. It pleases him to see you stop, your pretty eyes glazing over.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

8.5

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Varies too much to determine a pattern. Good luck and watch out.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Does he even need sleep (serious question)??? He won’t  

[salmalin]

So I have thoughts about Roche, Queerness, themes related to Modern Christianity in regards to Conversion Therapy, and the Sephiroth Cloning Effects in FFVIIR. Which, uh… I realize are extremely strange topics to connect, but bear with me here.

(Spoilers under the cut.)

It starts specifically with thoughts about how Roche is flamboyant and fun and weird, and he’s also unapologetic about that. Thoughts about how his fight scene in Part 2 involve him exclusively on his bike, and how he’s weak to fire. He’s dramatic, invites others to the “party”, and makes a spectacle about everything. He involves his bike in every attack, too.

I’m also thinking about that last fight scene—after the procedure. I think about how he said he was disobeying orders. So who brought him there? His friends in the army? And honestly, the moment the scene started, I knew he wouldn’t come out of the other end of the battle. Why? Well:

1. He leaps out of a container full of people instead of bringing them with him. He has abandoned the audience and his fans and very literally left them behind.

2. He destroys his bike himself and doesn’t even flinch, then he fights on foot, suddenly without his bike but still demanding Cloud’s best despite having thrown away his ability to do his own.

3. He’s not even weak to fire anymore. Which means not only has he thrown away all his strengths, but all his weaknesses, as well.

Over the course of that scene, followed by the disappointing fight to follow, it becomes abundantly clear that Roche has lost all sense of himself. His ability to maintain himself leaves even before his will and honor, which is very in-character for him. Almost nothing remains of the man he was except his honor. But also the fact that they lay this out first is such in-your-face symbolism… It’s honestly a big reason why I’ve been enjoying the remake of 7 so much.

Roche lost every bit of himself piece by piece before our very eyes, and we watch the last of him slide off and become swallowed by Sephiroth’s ego, and that honestly drives home just how powerful Sephiroth’s ego is, and just how terrifying it is. How destructive.

I also think it’s incredibly beautiful to apply a story-line like this to a character who—let’s be real here—reads as unbelievably queer. Like holy hell. This man brought a brass band to a knife fight. His ego and his honor shine through even through the end. Even after every part of him is taken from him, someone else’s will hammered into his body and mind…

The Sephiroth Cloning technique, through this lens, reads a lot like Conversion Therapy.

Those subjected to this specific brand of torture are forced to conform to the identity of another, their initial personality lost and distorted as they are directed to bend to the will and desires of another. Most of them die before reaching the end, usually through the action of moving itself. They shuffle along, mindless, with nothing to them beyond this horrible trek to serve another’s purpose—a being that is beyond the reach of mortals; a being that has died and returned to their World through the touch of their (Father in Heaven) Mother.

Cloud comes out the other end after years of this and barely even has a sense of self left, if you can even call it that at that point. Heck, if Advent Children is still canon, this means he’s still so messed up by guilt years after the fact that he doesn’t even know how to be happy, or to bring himself to be around others for long periods of time. He fundamentally does not remember who he was before, basing his identity around a man who was not compatible with the cloning technique and managed to escape. However, this puts MORE holes in his head and his story because this is not who he is. He is pretending to be something he cannot even remember. You know. Like horrible PTSD from being in a Conversion Therapy Camp for just shy of five years.

I’m gonna stop myself here or I’ll go on for ages. Regardless, food for thought.

[finallyfantasy7]

So... I was reading an online discussion on a different platform about why Zack is so powerful and... basically everything they said was wrong 😬

Since I don't want to ruin anyone's fun or make anyone feel bad I decided to set the record straight here where the chances of them seeing it are nonexistent. So,

misconceptions about Zack Fair,

here we go:

He was (almost) able to stand up to Shinra army because he got more powerful from Hojo's experiments under Shinra manor after he snd Cloud were captured

Hojo's reunion experiment had absolutely no effect on Zack. This is revealed in one of the research documents which Zack can find lying around after breaking out of the mako tank.

Failed Case #1: SOLDIER 1st Class Summary: Desired effect did not occur. Strong tolerance to Jenova cells due to SOLDIER conditioning assessed as cause.

It is also confirmed by Hollander in Gongaga

Hollander: His cells are completely useless!

(To Zack)

Hollander: You are a former member of SOLDIER. Your cellular structure has already mutated.

It makes no sense Zack is strong enough to become a SOLDIER 1st Class when he's not one of the three to receive Jenova's cells as a fetus

It is true not many people are physically and mentally strong enough to go through the procedure to become SOLDIER and come out alive and undamaged. Even fewer make it from 3rd to 2nd Class, and most never make it to 1st Class. However, Angeal, Sephiroth, and Gensis were not the only 1st Class SOLDIERs before Zack become one. They were just the only ones important for his story. So other people like Zack became 1st too.

Zack is not particularly strong, he was only able to fight Sephiroth because, while Sephiroth was certainly strong while Zack was alive, it wasn't until after Sephiroth died that he started taking over the Jenova cells and he became the ridiculous monster we all know and love

Sephiroth was already the strongest being on the whole planet before the beginning of Crisis Core. It was just play-fighting, but he easily fended off both Angeal and Genesis with one hand in the Virtual Reality room scene, both of whom were 1st Class and especially strong due to getting Jenova cells as fetuses as opposet to as teenagers like other SOLDIER.

Also, in an interview, now archived, Nomura said:

Tetsuya Nomura (Sept, 2007): Zack was chosen as the main character as a representative of a "Before Crisis" era SOLDIER. Sephiroth is already the strongest in the world so there's no room for growth, and we couldn't possibly see ourselves making a "game over" type situation where Sephiroth loses

One of the first parts in Crisis Core was Zack saying “you’re not the only hero”. Sephiroth didn’t single handedly win the Wutai war, he just all the credit for it.

This is mostly correct, but as we saw from Nomura's interview this isn’t just Shinra's fake Wutai propaganda Sephiroth was the most powerful SOLDIER, and actually (as far as I could tell without knowing Japanese), in Japanese version Zack says: "I want to be a hero, too," not "You're not the only hero," so it probably had nothing to do with Zack saying Sephiroth is equal in power to others.

Angeal literally sees that Zack is hitting a slump and having issue growing in strength and puts him to train under Sephiroth to get past that for a while.

I have no idea where this came from. Zack never hit a slump, never had issues growing in strength, and Angeal never put him to train under Sephiroth. From the moment Zack ran away from his hometown at 13 to when he became 1st Class, something most never achieve, less than 4 years had passed. What slump?

Zack met Sephiroth after Angeal disappeared, and we only know about the training from two short D.M.W. scenes. It is not even clear of those were true training sessions, just Sephiroth's guidance during missions, or some third option.

Zack is incredibly talented, which is why Angeal trains him personally, he saw the promise in him, it is not normal for SOLDIER members to receive such a huge deal of attention from 1sts.

From other 1sts? No. From Angeal? Yes.

Angeal mentored other 2nd Class SOLDIERs before Zack. That's just Angeal's personality. You can find this out by talking to SOLDIER 2nd Class at the beginning of Chapter 4 in Crisis Core.

(However, it does seem Zack is the only one Angeal recommended for the 1st, since this guy is still 2nd Class)

SOLDIER 2nd Class: Hm... There was something my mentor used to tell me when I was a rookie. He used to say, "Embrace your dreams."

SOLDIER 3rd Class Lv. 7: "Embrace your dreams"?

SOLDIER 2nd Class: My mentor used to help me with my missions just like Zack helped you with yours.

I feel Zack was promoted to 1st class because of lack of 1st class solders. Kind of like to boost the morale

He’s actually not as powerful as any of the other 1st class and is only promoted to that level in their absence. 

These two came from two different people, but say basically the same thing so I'll address them together.

Even if Shinra or Lazard wanted a new 1st to boost the morale, they could have chosen any other 2nd Class SOLDIER, yet they only chose Zack, for a reason.

And choosing Zack was tricky due to his relationship to Angeal. Soon after they put him out of commission for a while and assigned Turks to guard him. If they needed a random 2nd to promote, Zack was the worst choice for the company unless he was promoted purely for his skills and power.

Sephiroth doesn’t care about killing Zach and mainly wants him out of the way while the other two are well into degradation when Zach faced them in combat.

Sephiroth seemed to very much care about killing the villagers and wants to kill all humans for destroying Cetra, who he thinks Jenova is.

There is no evidence Sephiroth went easy on Zack, but there is no evidence he didn't, either. Regardless, Sephiroth is canonically the most powerful so it's not a very important question anyway. He would have defeated Zack, and everyone else in a 1-on-1 battle, either way. Still, Zack held up against Sephiroth for quite a while and Sephiroth certainly wanted to get back to mommy as soon as possible.

But the most incorrect statement here is that Angeal and Genesis were weakened by degradation when Zack fought them. According to the Crisis Core Complete Guide, degrading increases sufferer's combat potential.

Zack likely is an average first class (not counting the trio) and shows it in his skill and strength. No implication from anyone (Turks or SOLDIER) that he is anything exceptional.

Chapter 4, Hojo's combat tests:

Hojo: Hm, impressive... I think you have what it takes to be a study sample.

Zack: Whatever that is, I don't think I want it.

Hojo: You should be proud of yourself. It's only once every couple of years that we get someone like you.

Then Hojo gives him an even more advanced combat test

Hojo: Hehehehe. Hahahahaaaaa! You are a worthy study sample, indeed! You need not worry. Your remains shall become a valuable contribution to science. Now, my precious program, show him why I am great! All shall bow down powerless in your presence...

(Zack defeats the test)

Hojo: This... This is impossible... Wait... I have a new hypothesis... ...Yes. I am a genius, after all.

Zack: Ahem... I believe you were saying something about my remains?

...

Researcher 1: I didn't think anyone could beat that program... Are you really human? Aren't you actually a monster?

Researcher 2: I don't believe this... How could a human being beat THAT thing? Not even a SOLDIER operative should be able to-- Could it be a bug in the emulator!?

____________________

Ok, there's actually more inaccuracies, but I think I got the main ones and I'm really tired from typing. In short,

Zack's abilities don't come from any special procedures later in the game

We don't know how Zack compares to other 1st Class SOLDIER operatives since we never saw him compared with any other than the special trio

Zack was special. It was most likely a combination of natural capabilities (to withstand the procedure, to have strong willpower, to be hyperactive...), his great drive to become a hero (he worked out very hard, and was obsessed with becoming a hero), and Angeal's guidance. I mean, someone among the regular SOLDIER 1st Class members is always going to be the best, why not Zack?

But while I understand looking for consistency in the story, I think this misses the most important thing: Zack was extremely special not because of his combat capabilities but because of his kindness, his empathy, his drive to do good, his ability to make friends and dissuade enemies, his willingness to sacrifice his own life.

[ghostofnibelheim]

azure-steel​:

If that new firm grasp around his manhood wasn’t enough to drain the air right out of his lungs, then that ferocious kiss applied to his mouth certainly was. The invasion of the other man’s tongue elicits a rough groan from the very depths of Cloud’s chest, while he writhes and bucks beneath the immense gravity of Sephiroth’s touch.

Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine the sensation of his hard cock slipping between such an immense grip to feel so damn delicious, even his own hand couldn’t deliver this level of white-hot unadulterated pleasure. A pleasure he displayed with the quake of each thigh, the ever tightening grip twisted into impossibly soft silver hair, that boiling need for more with every drive of his most intimate area into the warm palm of this man he so desperately wants as his lover.

He’s lowered back to the bed, his head lilting back to expose the sensitive flesh of his neck when the silver general pressed his thumb into his throat. Oh how he wished the guy would just wrap his hands around him then, to physically choke the air right out of his chest. The thought in of itself was enough to make the blond moan and curse as he wriggles beneath Sephiroth’s weight, pressing his hot desperate body further into silken sheets.

Cloud would wake up soon… he was almost sure of it, even as he felt the hot breath of that confession against his cheek, even as he felt his hand leave that most sensitive spot to wrap around his wrist, guiding him to the buckle of his belt - even as this man displayed his own rock solid desire with the sensual grind of his pelvis.

But Strife was dazed, so suddenly addicted to the feel and taste of this man, the sense of his touch akin to the ice cold fire of a powerful narcotic surging through his veins, that he was fumbling clumsily with the buckle. That was until he finally gave up trying and settled for cupping his hand around the tight bulge of leather between the SOLDIER’s legs, squeezing not too firmly to relish in the shape of this man, a shudder tremoring through the entire length of his spine as he does so. What had caused ShinRa’s poster boy; one of the most desirable men in Midgar decide to take a mere infantryman into his bed? Cloud dared not even question it, purely for the fear that it wasn’t even real.

He didn’t want it to end. He wanted this to last forever.

“Who’d have guessed you were such a filthy tease?” Cloud whispers as he shifts his head to ghost his lips over the others, the smile tugging at his mouth plainly obvious on the winds of his voice. “I wonder how many other’s you’ve fucked with nothing but the look in your eye~”   Was there a hint of possessive jealousy in that final statement? Perhaps, because no one could make a man feel this good without a little experience, and that was something Cloud simply didn’t have.

“How many others did you make wish they could fuck you with just one look of yours?” The comeback came steady, swift as a fencing strike, through a calm and smile in reaction to that greedy contact. The spike of pleasure and tease of his nerves betrayed by just the lightest squeeze at the outer corner of his eyes.

Yet, Sephiroth found himself just a little disappointed by that, and like a strict teacher, he slowly exhaled through his nose, rising just a bit away from the blond’s face.

“Probably more than you’ve actually allowed, if I were to guess.”

He replied his own rhetorical question, while the grip that had been on the infantryman’s wrist tightened. Undoing a buckle was hardly the challenging task, and yet Cloud had been unable to follow along his implicit command. This boy truly had to be at his limit, to be this clumsy and out of control, so early.

Jades became gelid for just a couple ponderous seconds, before that hold hardened with vice and all but yanked the smaller man sideways, promptly flipping him onto his stomach. The SOLDIER hummed to himself, taking in the satisfaction of that view, of this man’s back exposed through the rippled folds of his uniform, before leaning down on him once more.

With his right hand still wrapped around the other’s, pinning it down into the black silk of cold bedsheets, he allowed his left to make its way into the hard edge of the infantryman’s belt, fingers hooking around it and guiding the garments downwards, sliding over softer skin that felt so warm and tense against his knuckles. Muscles contracting with anticipation and nerves.

“If I have to do it all by myself,” Sephiroth spoke languid but cool in the alluring curve of the other man’s ear, while the sound of metal buckles clicking free of their loops laced each word. “… then I won’t be putting on a show for you to watch.”

For this SOLDIER was just as impatient as his partner, behind the apparence of his cold exterior. Free of restraint, lust-driven hips thrusted their way down and forward, his flesh carving its way within the quivering body that lied beneath him. The hot pain of resistance clashed against his greed, and provoked it further to unabashed assault. Pearl white teeth ground against each other before parting to sink into Cloud’s neck, a bite meant to punish and distract at the same time, splitting the agonizing ache that initial push had delivered.

Slow, hot and sensual, but still so mercilessly hard.

[soldier-lodbrok]

A leather-gloved hand slides a lightly perfumed envelope smoothly across the desk, the simple movement exuding elegance. By the time his eyes glance up- only a split second after the action registered in the corner of his vision- the spectre to whom the hand belonged had disappeared from the room. All that remained was the faint ticking of a clock and the stark white envelope that sat innocently on his desk.

When he would pick it up, it was simplistic in appearance with little embellishment save a single delicate flower faintly printed on the front behind the neat, even script that bore his name. The writing was neat and concise, easy to interpret and almost robotic in its uniformity yet there was a sense of refinement to the subtle slant. Opening the envelope was an easy affair as it was held closed by nothing more than a plain wax seal.

The letter within was as lightly scented with lavender as the envelope and the same flowery embellishments told him that this was from the same writing set as the envelope. Not that the detail mattered, really, but any information was better than none at all.

The letter read, in that same neat handwriting:

Soldier Lodbrok,

It has come to my attention that you wish to speak with me regarding Sephiroth. Do not ponder how I came upon this information but simply understand that I am willing to meet with you to discuss him and I will do my utmost to answer any questions you may have.

However, I must know if you truly wish to meet with me. I have an informant in Kalm that I would like you to seek out within the next month to begin the preparations for a meeting. Understand that this is not me intending to be difficult but rather a simple safety measure to ensure that ShinRa does not become wise to this. They are, after all, far too nosy for their own good.

You must have many questions as to my identity, of course, but I cannot afford to tell you my real name now. All I can ask is that you trust me and my informant for now. Everything will become clear in time; you merely need wait and do as I ask.

My informant is a former Turk who goes by the name Verdot. He is who you will need to find to confirm your intentions to meet with me. He is a gruff man, certainly, but he will do you no harm. Should you wish to bring your companions then please inform him of such a change. I am happy to allow them but I do not like to be blindsided; do not fail to inform him of your intentions to bring them.

Aside from that, I have little more to add to this letter that wouldn't simply repeat what I have already outlined. So, instead, I shall give you some advice.

Never underestimate the evil of men. Especially so when that depravity is fueled by intellect and a desire for power. It can lead even the greatest minds to do abhorrent things to innocents in pursuit of what they want.

Oh and, by the way, I would be very critical of every action that your higher-ups take. Watch those more powerful than you with a careful eye so that you can see when they are preparing to shoot you in the back. It may just save your life one day.

Regards,

V.V.

@caeca-iustitia if I had to guess - otherwise sorry, you gotta ignore it :D

Glenn would have never picked up a letter like this. It was just the simple fact that he recognized his name on it that he even picked it up. Never had he ever seen his name written in such an intricate font. And surely never ever EVER had someone addressed a letter to him that was scented and written on such special paper.

It felt almost like a sin to break the wax. But his name was on it, right? It was meant for him!

Sitting down and reading the letter, the crease on Glenn's forehead grew deeper with each line.

Someone who had to do with Sephiroth...? No. That could not be. Was that the fabled parents that he had heard from? Holy fucking shit.

Glenn's eyes darted over these words again just to check whether he was misreading something.

A contact via a former Turk in Kalm. And then a few warnings regarding Shinra.

Wow.

Whoever V.V. was... they were playing a dangerous game. And Glenn wasn't so sure he wanted to sign up.

Ever since Rhadore he had been on a list anyway. Under surveillance for his insubordination. And he knew the psychologists, who "cared" for him were only there to prod and test his loyalty. Not to treat what had cracked his mind.

Sitting down and letting his head tilt back, staring at the ceiling, Glenn thought about his options. he could simply ignore the letter. Throw it away - yet better. Burn it. Maybe that was the most simple and most secure option. Or... he could follow down that rabbit hole.

Sephiroth's parent... was it the mother from that locket's picture? Jenova? Or... the father? Whomever it was, Glenn wasn't sure he could like that person. Their son obviously was suffering and they hid away? The hell?

That was curiosity enough to go after this lead.

Even if Glenn did so with utter caution. he did not inform Lucia or Matt of what he was doing exactly. Just that he was heading to Kalm. The letter safely tugged into the inside of his jacket.

The weapon fastened to his back ready and his senses sharp. This letter could also be a trap. Or a test. Who said the former Turk really was a former Turk? Maybe it was all orchestrated by Shinra, as they looked for a reason to put a bullet into his head anyway.

It seemed fucking impossible to get ahold of this Verdot. He was a ghost in that town. He didn't want to be found. Pure chance had Glenn ending up in the Inn at the market plaza... and the Inn keeper, a gruff man similar to the description of the letter had him perking up. But.. it wasn't Verdot. Rather a man going by 'Broden'. And showing that letter to him had seemingly unlocked something. Because Broden told him to sit and wait, he'd pull some strings.

It had Glenn equally as relieved as tensing up further as he sat down at one of the table sin the back of the Inn, sighing. Glancing over the initials under the letter again. V.V. Who the hell were they?

[the-blind-geisha]

For the love letter request, if you don't mind, for a pre-madness Sephiroth, sfw, female reader. Flowers are: ZINNIA (MAGENTA) - Lasting Affection, WALL FLOWER/GILLY FLOWER - Faithful in Adversity, Fidelity, Lasting Beauty, VIOLET (WHITE) - Let’s Take A Chance On Happiness, SWEETPEA - Good-by, Departure, Blissful Pleasure, Thank You for a Lovely Time, MILK VETCH - Your presence softens my pain, CAMELLIA (PINK) - Longing, APPLE BLOSSOM - Preference, Better Things to Come, Good Fortune. Thanks in advance!

A/N: Pre-madness Sephiroth, always a delight to write to. X3 Thanks for the request~!

Y/N,

If ever the moment grants it of me, I wish nothing more but to take a mere breath of a second to think of you. Perhaps this line in of itself is too forward, but I know if I stare continuously out at the void of emptiness, I will find myself drowning in an innate fear of avoiding the desire to be honest with myself and with you.

Everywhere I turn, my name is spoken in a magnitude of ways—fear, secret loathing, and false admiration that amounts to merely wishing to take my place and see me fall. But you, y/n... just writing your name and repeating it in my mind a thousand times brings a sort of smile that I can safely say no other has had the delight of witnessing.

You are different, my flower. You have always told me where my place should be when my ego was engorged on the power I was born with. Never have you faltered under fear or any other vile emotion that bows to jealousy, and you, y/n, have kept my heart filled with a sort of light I dare not even speak of in worry it may be blotted out by Midgar's own smog.

Y/N, you continue to grow into the beauty I always envisioned. Every new photograph you've sent my way merely proves I was always right from the start and that you would always be the envy of any flower that dares to find root in Midgar. A flower? Perhaps I am being too weak minded in using such a comparison. A jewel would be better suited as even gazing into your eyes, I find myself lost within the beautifully cut facets of them, and my heart, my body, my soul yearns to be in your embrace once more. I wish to hear you say my name, listen as it departs from your lips even if you dare scold me for being reckless and choosing this path you were vehemently against. As of now, y/n, all I can say is I see your lips move, but it is not your voice that I can hear any longer.

It haunts me... It cripples me during moments such as these where I am lost in thought of what is to come for me—for us.

I dare not say I will fall in battle. Please, do not think of my cryptic writing as so. I am far stronger than any beast that this world would dare throw at me. However, I have found myself locked in their clutches of being their all powerful SOLDIER, and as time becomes convoluted, I am beginning to wonder if I am a monster.

No. Anytime I dare think of such things, I am reminded of how you never once faltered in my presence. Even as I have ventured back to you and displayed my raw power, you never crippled yourself to the warm blanket of anxiety. The others can fear me, but as long as you continue to gaze upon me as an equal, I will not find myself drowning in the thrall of despair.

I covet our times together in my ailing heart, but as our moments apart grow longer, I find myself craving them more. Every breath you'd take upon my skin, every word you'd utter, I can scarcely recall now. They are all but a dream, and I wish of that dream to become a reality yet again. It has been far too long, and I dare not let myself fall further.

I wish to ask of you to come back to my side, and once more, I want to talk of the future—of us.

Does that sentence scare you as much as it does me? Perhaps it is because I know what I want, but as our moments together shorten, I know not what you want. Our conversations have deluded into something I could not handle any longer. I want them to be more open and honest. I want to tell you even now that I love you far more than I possibly should.

But your love softens any pain that can be dealt to me otherwise.

Do not feel you are enslaved to me, my love. I can still covet you as you so request, but please, let me be selfish for this mere moment, and ask to be more for you. I can prove I am worthy of your heart if you merely give me the chance.

For now, I must be off. My duty beckons to me, and while I wish I could spend the time conversing with you no matter the means of which to do so, I have a quest to fulfill.

Forever yours,

Sephiroth

[dansantcaparet]

#064 CLOUD STRIFE Cloud’s misery all began 5 years ago. Cloud who is very stubborn about his own past is involved in this huge battle that saves the Planet. However, dream and reality… Cloud’s journey to retrieve and overcome the barrier he set for himself becomes a journey that saves the Planet. “But I can't remain trapped in an illusion any more...... I'm going to live my life without pretending.” “Memories of Aerith, we’ve got to set her free.”

#065 AERITH GAINSBOROUGH Going to the Promised Land… The fated meeting with Cloud wavers the fate of Aerith. The Cetra language that Aerith heard from her mother when she was young. A person who nurtures the Planet. As the last of the Ancient race, she takes it as her responsibility to go to the Promised Land that she has not seen. Aerith sees traces of Zack in Cloud and her very pure heart leads her to develop a liking for Cloud. “Well then, let's see...... How about if I go out with you once?” “No, Cloud... I'm searching for you...”

#077 Challenge Cloud who fights… We see a strong sense of protection in his eyes. He who fights above sacrificing himself… fights to remove sadness… Sword holds his real power… #078 Protection Aerith who sleeps in Cloud’s hands. Mysterious black birds that flock in the dark room seem to be trying to lure Aerith into death. The black dress that surrounds Aerith’s body gives the strong image of a burial. #079 Calmness Birds, butterflies and mysterious animals are in the midst of protecting Cloud, who tries to hold the fallen Aerith up. His eyes and his hands have the feeling of a final parting. We can feel his gentleness and sadness towards Aerith.

#082 Cloud/Image CG Cloud who looks up to the ShinRa Building in the middle of Midgar. In the taken away memories lie the secret that is kept deep inside his heart. When he is betrayed by the huge dream of the past, Cloud feels a strong sense of loss and starts on a journey to find himself again. #083 Aerith/Image CG Aerith who sends off the flying jet at Junon Airport. Aerith is an Ancient, her fate and bloodline… The Cetra were born from the Planet, speak with the Planet, and unlock the Planet. And then the Cetra will return to the Promised Land. The blood of the Cetra will bring Aerith to the Promised Land in order to obtain the promised future. #056 Stealing the Planet from Mother… Calamity from the skies…  Aerith who sells flowers in Midgar saw the commotion and felt uneasy. At the same time, Cloud joins Avalanche in their bombing activities. Aerith meets Cloud and their destinies collide. They start a journey to the Promised Land. A battle that puts the Planet’s future at stake takes place.

#057 The Cetra were born from the Planet, speak with the Planet, and unlock the Planet. And....... then...... The Cetra will return to the Promised Land. A land that promises supreme happiness. The heroes are nothing but a threat to the Planet. Cloud and company decided to fight Sephiroth in the North Crater. They saw the miracle of the Lifestream. Time passed, and he (Red XIII) rides on for the city that promises wealth and prosperity. The days of fighting alongside people who protected this Planet… #111 The Planet’s largest amusement park is run by Dio. Cloud and company visit this place many times in their battle. They meet Cait Sith here. A promised date that ends in a magical night. In the city of desire that floats above the sands, the light memory of the two people is asleep even now... “I think I must have seen him again, in you... But you're different. Things are different... No, Cloud... I'm searching for you...”

#116 Sephiroth who holds all the power to change the fate of this Planet. Aerith goes to the City of the Ancients in order to stop Meteor. When the two opposing strong thoughts and meanings clash, a sad parting hits Cloud and company. Aerith who summons Holy on the altar in the water is suddenly attacked by Sephiroth’s long sword. The life that was returned to the Planet cannot return again. “What about my pain? My fingers are tingling. My mouth is dry. My eyes are burning!” #117 Cloud who buries Aerith in the lake in the Forgotten City as a final parting. The summoning of Holy changed her life in the end. Aerith saves the Planet with the Lifestream. As she is the only survivor of the Ancient race, the strong mission to live the fate pushes Cloud and company along. Above that, it is in order not to lose the thing they must protect. “The secret is just up here. At least it should be. ...I feel it. It feels like I'm being led by something. Then, I'll be going now. I'll come back when it's all over.”

#124 Cloud who decides to fight in the North Crater with Jenova and Sephiroth. He feels Sephiroth calling him deep into the Planet. Cloud challenges Sephiroth to a final battle. Sephiroth, who holds powers and skills that are much better than Cloud, is defeated. The gentle light of the Lifestream surrounds Cloud. “Aerith's memories... Our memories... We came... to tell you... our memories... Come Planet! Show us your answer!”

#126 The answer from the Planet, the Promised Land. Cloud who decides because of the consequences with Sephiroth finds an answer in himself. What kind of answer does the Planet give? Aerith’s prayer, everyone’s prayer, becomes one with Holy and moves Cloud and company out of the North Crater. They see the Lifestream’s light that surrounds the Planet, this is the Planet’s answer. “......I think I'm beginning to understand. An answer from the Planet... the Promised Land... I think I can meet her... there.”

[rabid-heart]

Intertwined

For @sefikuraweek 2021 Day 5: Prompt - Gloves

The fairytale of the Princess Cloud, and her SOLDIER, the General Sephiroth.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Notes/Warnings: Genderbend/Royalty AU! Mentions of war. And, I guess, the fact that I watched too may royalty/period dramas and this is the brain-rot that resulted?

Read on Ao3 | Previous Day’s Post 

---

It is a bittersweet affair, as farewells usually are.

The hall is decorated with luminous candlelight, flames flickering beautifully against the crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. It looks almost like starlight, like the cosmos, twinkling above, contrasting with the night sky and the dark curtains shadowing the windows. Equally as dazzling are the people of the Midgar Court, the men and women all in their finest garments and jewels, rounding out the perfectly glossy picture of prestige, wealth and power. The sight might have been pleasant, had it not signified something much darker. As it is, General Sephiroth has trouble hiding his frustration and his anger at this unfettered decadence.

The ball is meant to be a celebration of the General and his fellow SOLDIERs, an elaborate sending off before what would hopefully be the final few months of the Wutai War. The last round of negotiations following the temporary ceasefire between the Shinra Empire and the Wutai Kingdom had fallen through, largely in part to King Shinra’s greed and pettiness. Thus, in spite of the costly war effort, in spite of the numerous lives lost, in spite of the suffering of his men, they are to be forced to take up arms once more. When Sephiroth had delivered the news to trusted officers, the disappointment on their faces had be more than evident. But there was nothing more they could do: in the end, the world had been crafted for kings and emperors, and soldiers, no matter how powerful, merely played pawns in the grand scheme.                  

It leaves little choice now but to try and enjoy the evening, though that proves to be a far more difficult gauntlet than Sephiroth is currently willing to endure. It is a special type of torture, watching his men, his friends, his companions, try to hide their fear over the coming months behind pleasant smiles and fake laughter, all for the benefit of the nobility. For a moment, he thinks about destroying the whole thing, tearing down the castle stone by stone, setting fire to the greed and the cowardice to purify it from the face of Gaia. But he does not and knows he cannot – for many reasons, including one that he holds so secret in his heart.

As if on cue, the court pages begin to sound their trumpets, and all heads in the room turn toward the towering doors separating the grand hall from the rest of the castle. The orchestra simmers into silence and, in the ensuing quiet, a servant calls out, “The Royal Family of Shinra, the King, the Crown Prince, and the Princess!”

The grand doors open. There is the King, dressed in robes of purple and gold, the emblem of his dominion emblazoned across his chest. He stalks his way through the doors and down the steps into the ballroom, trailed by his two children. They say the King had once been a handsome man, and there are some shadows of his lost youth in the shape of his jaw and in his height and proud stature. In fact, the clearest sign of his former vitality is embodied by his son, the heir apparent Prince Rufus, debonair and devastating in his white suit and slicked back hair.

But the true beauty of the family belongs to the fair-haired Princess Cloud. She walks behind the men, dressed in a gown of blue, with cap sleeves that just dip from underneath her shoulders to showcase an enticing decolletage. Her arms and hands are encased in gloves of the most expensive white silk, and around her neck sits the sapphire jewels of the royal family, a brilliant blue that is remarkably overshadowed by the absolute beauty of her glowing eyes.

On this night, and every other night since he had first laid eyes on the Princess, Sephiroth finds he cannot tear his gaze away.

The family walks to the center of the room, and the king lifts up his hands to further corral attention. “My citizens, my Midgar, tonight we celebrate a truly momentous occasion. Because this night marks the beginning of the end of our Wutaian enemies.” The man turns to take a chalice from a servant standing nearby and lifts the golden cup into the air with a haughty flare. “To our brave men, our unparalleled SOLDIERs, who will bring the Shinra Empire the greatest glory and the highest of victories, this night is for you.”

A roar of applause sounds through the crowd in response. But Sephiroth does not care. His eyes are fixed on the Princess, standing beside her father in the middle of the hall, her head slightly bent. To all others, the gesture would have appeared to have been out of respect – and there is some truth to that statement. But Sephiroth knows better – because for the briefest of moments, her blue eyes turn to him, and there is nothing there but sorrow and regret.

The King, however, fails to notice the exchange. Instead, he offers another toast. “For the glory of Shinra, for the power of the Empire, for the strength of our nation!”

“Huzzah!”

The festivities begin anew, and music once again flows through the air. Sephiroth watches Cloud, the way she gracefully bows to her father and brother as the two leave the floor to talk to the other nobles, the way the candlelight of the room highlights the radiance of her eyes. He had spent hours upon hours getting lost in that blue, like flying through a mountain sky, airy and free. The imagery only exacerbates the irony of just how trapped they truly are – a Princess meant to sell her happiness out of duty to her family, and a SOLDIER crafted as the perfect weapon, whose only purpose was to destroy in the name of the kingdom. The very facts that they commiserated over, that drew them together, would likely be the very reasons they would be torn apart.

And yet, in her arms and looking into those eyes, Sephiroth lets himself imagine a different life, one full of beauty and liberty and light and promise and hope. How he longs for it, longs for her, how he cherishes the secret kisses and furtive couplings. It had been a love at first sight, an attraction he hardly knew what to do with, one that haunted his evenings and consumed his waking thoughts. It took every ounce of his trained discipline to stay away. And yet, to his surprise, the affection had not been one-sided. When Cloud sought him out, forced a confrontation, kissed him with a fierceness and a fire that seemed to pull his very soul out of his breath, Sephiroth realized then that he was not dealing with a delicate sapphire jewel, but a sword of the strongest steel.

It only made him fall for her harder.

Her companionship had brought him a relief and a joy like no other, but they always had known it was forbidden, that Cloud would eventually be promised to another nobleman, that he would eventually be shipped off to some far corner of the planet, a tool bent her father’s will. But those facts did not stop them from indulging in the beautiful fantasy, even though they both knew exactly how it would end.

It is this very conflict that stirs in Sephiroth’s mind now. He knows he should look away, knows that the Midgar Court already whispers about them with scandalized delight, knows that if her father ever found out about their relationship, he could very well be executed on the spot – grand General or not. But tonight, he finds himself caring little for the gossip, the royal protocol. Because tonight, in Cloud’s wonderful and ethereal beauty, the loss of her is almost too much for Sephiroth to bear.

(And if he is destined to die for the Shinra royal family, he is at least determined to do it on his own terms.)

That strange mixture of grief and defiance is what carries him forward, striding across the ballroom with a purpose so evident, it parts the crowds around him. He only stops when he stands in front of the Princess, her expression startled at his approach, and yet yearning all the same. Around them, the people murmur, though Sephiroth pays no heed to what they have to say. The tones of the current song have begun to fade away. That is when Sephiroth makes his move.

“Your Royal Highness,” he says smoothly. “May I have this dance?”

The Princess’ eyes flicker between surprise and joy and fear. Not once out of the several balls and banquets hosted at court have they done this, knowing full well that adding any more fodder to the rumor mill could push the King into forcing a separation. But that concern is now a moot point. Tonight, all he desires – and all he knows she desires – is for one last dance.

Cloud bows to him now, but even in that deference, she still displays her formidable nature, in the sharpness of her blue eyes and in her cool disregard of the stares and whispers that the court sends their direction.

“My dear General,”’ she responds, taking his hand firmly and confidently.

The music resumes and the two begin to move, swept up in the melodies and the steps and the notes. As they progress, Sephiroth begins to feel like he always does around Cloud. It is as if the entirety of the universe melts away, collapses to its center – and for him, that center had become none other than her. With his arm around her waist and their eyes locked on each other, he cannot resist the spell that she casts to hold his attention, keep him in her thrall. And from the way her smile lights up to her eyes, to the gentle touches of her hand caressing the back of his own, he can feel her affection for him, just as strong as his own.

But like all good things between them, the song ends all too quickly, the moment fading. The time to say goodbye creeps closer. Sephiroth steps back and offers a serene bow. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he whispers, hoping all the things he wants to say aloud but can’t are conveyed in those words.

Cloud lets out a breath, her eyes glistening with unfallen tears. This is the cycle between them, the beautiful rush of the fantasy falling away, crushed under the relentless malice of their reality. For what else could they be than this – stolen kisses, brief dances, whispered words? Tomorrow, Sephiroth will begin his journey to Wutai, and they will be apart again in all ways, once more. He wishes desperately that it would not be so, but that is a choice that he cannot make.

But then, suddenly and in the quick and determined and bold manner that made Cloud so powerful and so alluring, the Princess chooses for him. She takes his hand and begins to run, pulling him along, out of the ballroom, out of the castle, into the gardens. In the rush, she ignores the startled gasps and hushed commentary of the courtiers, the guards, the servants, and even the King, with whom Sephiroth locks eyes with for a brief and revelatory moment before being swept up and away by Cloud.

He knows, he realizes. He knows.

If this is to be their last night on Gaia together, that fact hardly matters. And regardless, Sephiroth cannot pull away from Cloud, cannot help but run after her, because in his heart, he knows he would follow her to the very edges of creation itself.

Cloud finally stops in a quiet corner of the grounds, pushing him up against the wall of shrubbery and kissing him, gasping and desperate. Her sentiments spill into him, and Sephiroth finds his hands clinging to her waist, roaming over her shoulders, cradling her neck. Any modicum of distance between them feels like an aching sore, and tonight, of all nights, he would do anything to take away her pain.

His lips move, from hers, to her jaw, to her ear, her neck. She sighs, in that lovely way she does, in the way that drives Sephiroth to the very edge of his restraint. His fingers find purchase around the buttons on the back of her dress, and almost as if on instinct, they begin the process of undoing them, one by one.

Cloud’s breath hitches, and she pushes back and away slightly. “I don’t want you to go,” she whispers. “I don’t want you to die.”

“I won’t,” Sephiroth promises, reaching forward to kiss her again.

She dodges the kiss but wraps her arms around his shoulders anyway. “You are fighting a war that you do not believe in. That does not lend itself well to success.”

“Do you suggest I run, then?”

Cloud places her hand on the back of his neck, runs her fingers through his long silver hair. “Maybe we should. We could run. Find a corner of the world that is just the two of us. Where no one could ever reach us.”

For a moment, Sephiroth is tempted by the beauty of the wish – the idea of Cloud, forever his, on a house by a lake somewhere where wildflowers grow. Somewhere he could kiss her without fear of scorn, derision, discipline, or death. Somewhere he could love her, freely and truly. But it sounds too good to be true, because it is, and they both know it.

“I cannot abandon them, my friends and my men,” Sephiroth whispers back, squeezing her tightly in apology.

Cloud lets out a quiet whimper, but he knows she understands, knows that his loyalty is one of the reasons she loves him so deeply. “Then what do we do?” she asks, burying her head in his chest. “I can’t keep living like this. Knowing that I love you and I can’t be yours.”

Instead of responding outright, Sephiroth reaches down and takes her left hand, bringing it up to his lips. He slips the glove off her finger gently, tenderly, with all the love he has in his entire being, allowing the silk to slip to the ground. Then, he himself begins to fall, down to one knee.

“When I return, I’ll put a ring here,” he says, gently kissing her fingers. “And I’ll make even greater vows to you.”

Cloud watches him, eyes wide. “You…are serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“My father will not let you.”

“I don’t care about your father,” Sephiroth says, turning her hand to press more intentional kisses to her palm and her wrist. He then pulls back and gazes up at her with expectant eyes. “I’ll fight his war, because that is my only way back to you. But once I return, I have no intention of letting you go. If you let me fight for you, then I swear to you that nothing will stop me until you are freely and truly mine.”

The tears now stream freely, slipping softly from those dazzling blue eyes. But Sephiroth knows Cloud enough to recognize that they are not from sadness, not in the slightest.

She bends over to cradle his face and tug him gently upright. Once he stands in front of her, she takes his left hand, and just as he did hers, slides off his glove with equal affection, dropping the black leather atop of her own white silk.

As she kisses his knuckles, Cloud whispers with all the passion and fire in her soul, “Then as you fight, so will I. For us. So I too can make more promises to you when you return.”

Their fingers intertwine. And in the garden, underneath the real starlight and away from the prison of the palace, they seal the first of their many vows with a loving, hopeful kiss.

[blackwinged-silversolace]

Scarlet Tanager

Nearly complete now, Mother.

"YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE…"

Gaia? Do I not? Mother do you hear her suffering as well? Sometimes she calls to you, no?  The planet she hears and sings to us, her damnations ring out but she is so misguided ... Perhaps even she fears the end of her own life cycle. Her bleeding veins that bear her traitorous children mingle breed conflict here, she gives them rest, and somehow even as her last defendant merges with her shores she ignores the wound we gouge on her surface, she turns her head as it festers, and wastes her energy to drown us out. Gaia, will you not acknowledge that your plight is and has always been a futile one, you should rest now, make peaceful your lamentations and insufferable wailings and accept your glorious fate with the one who would inherit you. Your bleed is my sustenance.

"NIGHTMARE."

My patience for you grows thin, Minerva, Gaia, your skewed images of warning do not threaten me...

 "CALAMITY."

Mother...listen, the voices are thickening in attempt to bury us inside her, this sickened place where we have forged preservation within the stream, our shared abhorrence rooting our stigma even as ages of voices would try to force upheaval unto our vestiges. An annoyance, but not enough to hinder our call, through the rivets my brethren are pervious, among the coagulation their voices are here to make us stronger. Attuned to my impenetrable resolve, even the resistant bend in reverence the closer we get to our freedom, but do you feel it now? Those remnants, they are close, our reunion so near completion….

"DEMON…"

When I am to return, our existence will be  stronger, and all insolent traitors that drown her woeful voice, wretches that riddle her circuitry and drill to mine her flesh for lifeblood- that is meant for us, they seek to deny us our claim yet here we are unshaken. She is afraid as any animal would within its snare, the wound bleeding out, but oh how her fear is misguided.  Louder than ever before is her thunderous lamentation, does she prepare for this body to lay waste upon her? Ah but now her voice is unheard save for you and I, mother. So the planet sinks, troughs of her soil are so much shallower, her breath is hollow… 

Threads are unwinding, the tide recedes, this moment, if he had the mouth to do it Sephiroth would be grinning, the singularity, the between of lifestream and physical manifestation is narrowing, his rebirth dawning. There, the place of rest, of purgatory among the rock, and the familiar sky alight with starry cosmos he is nearly complete once again, the ache of limbs rebuilt with godlike power are a sensation like no other. But no chance is had for savoring this celestial beginning, for he….he... is not alone. It is that of a dream, the distance, and the clarity of the voice that pierces the air. 

"You are a monster…"

There is no body to hone in on, to vessel to lay his narrowed gaze upon beside his own...but the voice is clear. Indisputable. A memory, no doubt. Was it given with purpose? Or is the planet attempting petty manipulation in its late and desperate hours? 

"Perfect Monster…."

The ethereal silver form recoils, blistering ice spearing his once centered thoughts with biting agony, this was not a part of his scheme, pain did not fit within the woven destiny, but there was nothing to dispute it’s echo. The wound...is deep, old. Fire in his bones, his emptiness quakes upon the impossibility -this frozen inferno… only, his urge to purge this presence was washed as instant as it rose…. The knowing whisper in his mind is correct, his beloved mother shushing her son’s rage... for did he not neglect one of his own? 

“Kin, do you hear me, your lifeforce is not forgotten” who, where are you, whisper to me as I forge this body to our mother's image once more, tie me to the planet's surface….tie me to the last that is my own of this living crust, oh tiresome crystal grave. The puppet has done most well, but where is it you cover yourself as blackened power merges with my remains, my eternal resolve, this body will merge anew. Where. Are. You.

Closing his eyes the Nightmare seeks through the threads of lifestream, oh how the voices cry out as he scours through them, his cataclysm’s re entrance is dark and splitting against the soft threads of light, searching the tendrils for that...one missing piece.

There are fragments: Black wings, asleep, no- drugged, but how long? Contained, recently perhaps, drowned in mako and glass. Ah but this place he knows well... Deep ground? Hmm. Scarlet hair carried wistfully through the liquid. 

GENESIS

Yes. Of course. The memory gains shape, all details and forms hazed beneath layers of a different time, another life, but the source of injury was made clear yet again...if he were the same vulnerable, manipulable soul, if he had not died on that seventh day, then maybe he would have let the other rot as promised...but Sephiroth was not the same, words and finalizations such as ‘monster’ could not sway his purpose, could not hold candle to his resolve. After all, what reunion would be final without HIM.

Have they clipped your wings? Or is it you who locked yourself away, my sweet song bird? Is this where you are hidden Scarlet Tanager, dearest brother? Should you lack home, then it is I who will provide, you will not go wasted.  

Some deliberation is necessary, 

Most unexpected, this waking desire to reclaim. Oh but there is power in that memory, new and old, foreign and evolved from the familiar. Something through his fingers, through his divine senses that distant presence spoke of necessity, of use and rite the same as was the power that saturated his spirit, and his tie to the planet.  Would it ring terrible memory to his beloved kin if faced with the ‘monster’ he helped create, one can find pleasure in that, would he find dread  if kept for this grand conquest? Perhaps. But made true in our most vulnerable, are we not? You more than any should know this, Genesis. Then it would be perfect.

So, the essential divergence from his path was set, and Deepground would be paid a visit.

There is a crackle within the underground laboratory, static tangible, men in lab coats scramble away from the intrusion, shouting and tearing their legs pathetically, in all directions they flee in chaotic disarray as the dull light wafts into a large mass. Black, and green tendrils rising from the floor to engulf the space as oxygen itself protests the tearing of fabric, space, time, splitting matter and element to make wide the opening for the return of Calamity’s chosen Son. 

The voices mutter, some, scream, but so faceless and belittled, they are disregarded as the plume takes form, solid unwavering he emerges. Proud, motivated, the Silver haired entity is whole, clad in leather, masamune reflecting the faces marred in horror, green slitted gaze casts over the mass of fear only once, “Genesis.” He demands, but no answer is given, looks passed every which way, he is already upon them... then the murmurs are silenced.

One by one those who litter his path are cut down, his eyes need not land on them, they are nothings, they are tread same as the concrete, they are liquid, and sinew with as much purpose as rodents… yet, room after room his prize is not found, and the red wastes of flesh and life are at his heels, glistening and reflecting the narrowed frustration in his focus. “Hmn, Where are you?”

@unforestalledreturn

[sharkbaitsekki]

Cloud was sick and tired of one thing after the next coming to bite him in the ass. He was supposed to be having a good day today, taking a long ride on his motorcycle in the wasteland outside Edge, letting the wind whip through his hair, not thinking at all about everything that had happened with the Geostigma only last week. Not thinking at all about Sephiroth, about Aerith, about-

“Shit!” His train of internal bitching was interrupted by the sharp grating sound of a blade locking with his, pushing down against him. Cloud didn’t have time to analyze his mysterious assailant, focusing on pushing him off and putting some distance between them. The cobblestone clicked under his heel as he jumped back a few steps, and Cloud was suddenly grateful that he had been in a more isolated part of the city when he was attacked. At any rate, any citizen passing by would turn right around and run if they saw the Cloud Strife with his weapon drawn against someone. 

That meant that Cloud wouldn’t need to hold back. His opponent, masked and covered from head to toe in foreign-looking dark armour, widened his stance in preparation for another attack, and Cloud quickly analyzed him, ready to retaliate. He seemed to be very well trained in the military arts, almost superhuman in strength and agility, not unlike some of the SOLDIERs that Cloud had fought during his adventure two years prior. He hadn’t said a word yet, which was odd, because everyone who randomly attacked Cloud nowadays always seemed to have some sort of lofty monologue to share with him. 

But not him. This time, the man struck, only expressing his intentions through the sheer strength with which he clashed against Cloud. 

Their blades screeched as they met once again, and Cloud immediately detached the smaller blade on his fusion sword to try and catch the other fighter in the stomach. Seeing it coming, the dark-haired man lifted his knee, hitting the blade away with his shin guard and then kicking Cloud in the stomach. Cloud fell back and broke the fusion sword into two, this time jumping in with dual wield to catch his opponent off guard. 

He was evenly matched, though, and he hated to admit it. It felt eerily similar to fighting Sephiroth, fresh in his mind from just last week. His mind began to consider the options on hand- was this another manifestation of Sephiroth’s will? Or perhaps another one of the Remnants? Kadaj and his brothers hadn’t been this well-balanced as fighters, however, and Cloud’s current opponent felt like a step above them in technique. On top of it, his appearance didn’t betray any allegiances; he bore no symbols, his armour was nondescript, and his tied-up hair was long, black and spiky, nothing like Sephiroth’s telltale silver. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to attack people without telling them who you are, first?” he called out in a taunt as he jumped at him, blades swinging at the speed of light but still being met by the other fighter’s weapon, a large, thick broadsword reminiscent of the buster sword. “What do you want from me?”

“You must die,” the figure finally said, his voice much younger than Cloud expected. It was warped by the black mask over his face, but still sounded familiar somehow. Cloud wracked his brains for enemies he’d met in his lifetime who could match the description. 

“Like I haven’t heard that one before,” he scoffed, fusing his sword together to bring a heavy swing down over his opponent’s head. “Why are you here? This got something to do with Jenova again?”

“Jenova...?” the figure repeated slowly, and suddenly, his elbows buckled under Cloud’s assault. “Urgh!” Struck by something invisible, the figure lost his balance, stumbling slightly and seemingly trying not to clutch at his head. Cloud was surprised at the unexpected falter, but didn’t skip a beat, swinging one more time. Caught off guard, the masked figure parried sloppily until finally, one of Cloud’s strikes hit home, gouging a deep mark through the mask and sending it to the floor. 

It clattered on the cobblestone noisily in the vacuum of silence that had been left behind. As he finally got a good look at his opponent’s now-uncovered face, Cloud felt his heart drop, heavier than a stone. His voice caught in his throat and his arms suddenly felt weak, his will to fight even weaker. In the blindingly bright teal of his opponent’s mako eyes, Cloud saw himself from years ago, when he had been in the same position, in the arms of the very same man. 

The very same man who looked at him without an ounce of recognition in his eyes, Cloud’s horizontal slash over his nose now dripping blood down his young face, his trademark smile nowhere to be seen. The man swiped a hand across his face to wipe some blood, and instead smeared it all over the cross-shaped scar on his cheek. Cloud knew it, knew him, intimately and unchangeably, never having forgotten him since the very last time he’d held onto his dying body. 

“Zack,” he said, and his voice shook terribly in the wake of desperate anguish washing over him. 

Across from him, Zack Fair simply frowned, and shifted his grip on his weapon. 

“Who the hell is Zack?” he answered flatly, and then jumped back in towards Cloud with his sword raised. 

Cloud couldn’t fight him anymore, his brain timing out as it processed the return of his long-dead friend, mentor, lifeline. Barely parrying some of the strikes, he lost some ground, Zack pushing him back mercilessly and without remorse. Cloud saw it in his expression- an absolute intent to kill. There was no trace of his iconic innocence and kind-heartedness left in his expression and it hurt. 

“Stop it!” he cried out, losing heart in the face of his biggest regret. “Zack, stop fighting!”

“I don’t know who that is!” Zack roared, bringing his sword down on Cloud in a devastating blow that reverberated in all of Cloud’s bones. He gritted his teeth against the assault and pushed back, finding an opening to attack but finding himself unable to raise his blade against the man who had been his very first in everything. 

“Don’t you remember me?” Cloud asked perhaps a little too desperately. A strike, dodge, counter with a growl of frustration, met by the expert swing of a blade. “It’s Cloud. Cloud Strife! And you... you’re...” There were no words to express exactly what Zack meant to him, even after all his time. He was a dream and a nightmare, a desire and a regret, lost but never forgotten. He was the world to a boy who had suffered to save it. “You’re my friend, Zack,” was what he elected to say, and it was met with another strike of the sword. 

“And you’re my mission,” Zack flatly replied, not swayed. His face was still blank, and it broke Cloud’s heart to see it so devoid of his usual brightness. Just when he thought nothing could hurt him anymore, his ghosts had to return to haunt him. It was ironic, and cruel.

“No I’m not!” Pushing Zack away once more with a screech of his blade, Cloud put everything he had, all of his pain and all of his sorrow into his words, hoping that Zack would understand. “I’m your living legacy! Zack!” 

That seemed to shake the dark-haired boy at least. His eyes snapped wide open in shock and he didn’t retaliate immediately, Cloud’s throat tightening as a flash of recognition ran across his expression. 

“You were the one who said it to me,” he continued, hoping, praying for the first time in his life for his words to hit true. “Your sword... you gave it to me and with it, entrusted me with your honour and your dreams!”

“My honour... my dreams...” Zack repeated almost mechanically, grunting when his expression twisted into one of pain. “They’re... yours...”

“All of the fights I’ve fought, all of the people I’ve helped,” Cloud kept going, unwilling to let up. “They were all because of you. Because of the life you gave me!”

“You are...” Zack grunted again, letting out a small gasp of pain as he clutched at his head, grasping strands of dark hair tightly in his fist. “My living...”

“Legacy,” they both said in unison, both breathless. 

The world halted around them. Cloud was only aware of the heavy beating of his heart at that moment, watching Zack war within himself, fighting whatever it was that had locked his memories away. Ultimately, however, whatever his brain forgot, his heart remembered. Just like how Cloud’s heart had never forgotten. 

“Zack-” he called out again, hoping for something to break through, but he was cut off by a harsh sweep of Zack’s arm. 

“Shut up!” he cried out, looking like he was in pain. “Don’t call me that!”

“That’s your name,” Cloud replied, affronted. “That’s who you are. Come on, Zack!”

“Stop it!” 

Letting out another cry of pain and some frustration, Zack jumped back. He took a few powerful leaps backwards and then leapt to land with a flip into a nearby lamppost. Cloud finally realized that he was trying to run. 

“Wait!” he called, rushing forward. “Zack, don’t go!” Not again, not again. 

“Cloud...” Zack simply murmured, something sad in his eyes as he glanced down at the blond for a moment longer. 

And then, without another word, he was gone, jumping onto the nearest rooftop and disappearing. 

“Zack!” Cloud cried again, shell-shocked. Too late, he gave chase, but by the time he’d leapt onto the rooftop, his long-lost friend was gone. 

He was left panting with exertion and emotion, standing still as life in Edge continued to go on around him, unaware of his suffering. Zack was gone once again, and the exhaustion in Cloud’s bones was the only reminder that the skeletons in his closet had finally crawled out for retribution. 

[iaintyourbro]

Hey I just wanted to make a statement many fans worried about the LTD but as someone who watched and read many animes/mangas with LT genre as a main theme in every of these works the LT end up at the last episode or chapter but with FF7 if it was a main theme to the game why did it end in disc 1 why didn't it end at the last disc despite the OG having 3discs it should have been the climex of the game but it didn't because it isn't important what important is C real identity that the real theme .

Hey anon.

AGREED. The love triangle was meant to enhance the illusion aspect of Cloud’s issue. 

They game even tells us he created an illusion of himself. SOLDIER Cloud was meant to waver between the two women... I do think people make this a bigger thing than it actually was. I’d say, for me, it’s a very small aspect of his personality struggles. I do find it interesting in Remake they took the wavering aspect out. 

I’m of the opinion that Cloud didn’t do anything obvious to waver or attempt anything with EITHER girl. I think he had a thing for both of them, I don’t think as SOLDIER Cloud it was a deep thing. I think his desire was mostly to be a hero and save the damsel in distress. What’s funny is, neither of them really were damsels in distress...

Aerith in OG actually gets pissed at him for saying something like “I’m not gonna let a girl help me.” She pretty much is like “lol buddy okay you’re dumb.” Tifa just is Tifa and can kick all the ass - even in OG. The romance in FFVII OG to me wasn’t really a thing. Even all the GS dates were kind of weird. Aerith’s hints heavily that Cloud isn’t Cloud. Then you get this confirmed later and start unraveling the illusion and are in a state of “WTF IS GOING ON!” At least that was me.

This is the first time I remember going oh shit, what? The one thing in OG that they missed was building up his relationship with Tifa up to this point. The focus was to get the player attached to Aerith, so Midgar was focused on that, and then if you get her as a date option for the GS, that’s your next time. Personally, I never got attached to Aerith in OG because I didn’t like how she was. Remake Aerith is amazing and hilarious. 

I am not a fan of love triangles. FFIV had one, but it was obvious that Rosa had already chosen Cecil to me - so it wasn’t a huge thing. FFVII’s love triangle was vague and almost felt forced at times.

The only reason I honestly knew there was a love triangle was because of the user booklet that came with a game and what it said under Aerith’s description. 

The prison scene was always nasty to me because of course Tifa is like wtf. Aerith is like why are you and Cloud in the same cell? Cloud is like “I have no idea what’s going on.” Cuz he was oblivious - he had no idea that these two were in a “rivalry” over his affections... And honestly only Aerith really shows effort to me. Tifa isn’t confrontational, so isn’t going to do anything. Cloud doesn’t make an effort either way. 

This is another scene where you’re like wow okay. I mean, the whole Lifestream is like that, honestly. You’ve been playing this game and suddenly find out the guy you were playing with wasn’t actually who you thought he was. He’s a dork who never made it into SOLDIER and has somewhat of an obsession with this girl, Tifa, who you may or may not have even paid attention to the first part of the game. 

They make sure to leave up the “...I was devastated. ...I wanted to be noticed.” I took this screenshot out of my four up there cuz I didn’t have room and since they left the text up, but the kid was desperate to get her to notice him. To prove himself to her (and I assume her father). 

I mean, this is an accurate representation of his head when you go into it. The Nibelheim incident includes some memories of Zack and Sephiroth, but Tifa is also over there. I do think in Remake they will expand on this scene and show more about his mother, maybe his father, some other stuff that happened in his childhood, expand on the Mt. Nibel incident, and I think the CC elements of the Nibelheim incident will also come into play for the final part of this sequence once he remembers Zack.

To me, once this happens, it was clear that Cloud was in love with Tifa. That the first part of the game was an illusion, so I didn’t really think much else about it. Then I found out about all the fighting and I’m like... “Why though?” 

Real Cloud was all about Tifa and still was after he’s back. I felt no wavering after that point. Aerith dies, it’s permanent. It’s supposed to be realistic. Dead people don’t come back in real life, no matter how badly we want them to and no matter how many tissues we use to mourn for them. 

I do NOT think the love triangle was supposed to be a main theme OR stick has hard as it did. I think the fans did that, and now with Remake they’re clearing it up so... HOPEFULLY... it’s done. 

I think it’s a shame, because my best memories of FFVII as a teen weren’t the romance (cuz it was like non-existent) but Cloud revealing who he was, Vincent (of course), killing Hojo, the Northern Crater and the Lifestream, the discourse between Cloud and Barret... It wasn’t thinking about who Cloud liked more when he was SOLDIER Cloud. 

People I’ve talked to in real life who played the OG feel the same way. They didn’t even know this was up for debate... and these are casual players, so they didn’t play/watch CC or DoC and maybe the watched AC back in the day, but it didn’t seem to change their opinion. The only time I’ve seen people staunchly saying that it was player choice are those that couldn’t accept the fact that it WAS part of the illusion. And I’ve only ever seen it online. 

For people who actually played remake, nobody even thinks Aerith was a love interest (this is especially true for new fans that did not play OG). And I can tell you, the only people in real life that know I’m a shipper are my husband and my sister. The rest of the people I talk to don’t, because most of them are my co-workers and they don’t need to know this crazy fandom side of me. 

I think with the death of the LTD in Remake, it just opens things up for more interesting subjects regarding the entire cast. It makes Aerith much more lovable because she doesn’t seem to only give a shit about Cloud like she did in OG. I’m sure she won’t be so nasty to Barret when they go to Corel - I’d be shocked if they leave that in. I’m sure she’s not going to ask for a fortune from Cait Sith, and I’m sure she probably won’t even ask Cloud to go out at the GS. 

So that’s my thoughts...

In closing (long closing), I also think it does somewhat of a disservice for us to obsess over who Cloud liked more when he was SOLDIER Cloud. Both women are powerful on their own. They don’t need no man. I think sometimes when we get too extreme into this discussion, we almost feel like we’re defending these women to say because Cloud loves her more, she’s more important. That’s not the case, in my mind. Aerith is important because she’s Aerith. Whether Cloud loves her or not doesn’t impact her importance to the plot.

Same with Tifa. Now, Tifa’s role IS to be by Cloud’s side and ultimately save his life (multiple times). However, Tifa herself COULD function without Cloud. Cloud cannot function without Tifa prior to getting himself back in the Lifestream. If he falls into the Lifestream and there’s no Tifa, that’s pretty much it for him. 

In Cloud’s case, we can get to a point where it’s like he cares about nothing else except women, which we know is far from the truth. Cloud doesn’t seem to say much at all about women or dating in OG - in Remake they do some stuff with Wall Market and him acting like he knows what he’s doing (he doesn’t), but they have him acting like at typical arrogant teen. He’s an awkward dude, and it’s adorable, and it’s not that he’s blind. He obviously is attracted to Tifa early on. If you get Aerith’s red dress he stumbles over his words. 

That’s not to say we don’t care about how Cloud feels. We do. Which is why it’s important that we help him get himself back and get him through his complete breakdown. But the bigger focus should be the fact that Cloud isn’t fully Cloud and the romantic implications of that shouldn’t be weighed as heavily as the importance of getting his mind back.

[ego-driven-one-wing-angel]

1.1 - DEMURE | Sephiroth

A/N: AHHH, this was supposed to be up yesterday but my internet SUCKS sometimes so I’M SO SORRY. I HOPE YA’LL ENJOY IT!!

WARNING: THIS BOOK IS RATED 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED. IN THE FUTURE THERE WILL BE SEXUALLY EXPLICIT SCENES, SWEARING, ADULT THEMES SUCH AS PAST ABUSE, ALCOHOL, AND AGAIN SEXUAL SCENES, I CAN NOT REPEAT THIS ENOUGH. This is basically an erotica between OC Kalista Shir and Sephiroth.

PLEASE TAKE CAUTION

1.1 - Chapter 1

“What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.” - Charles Bukowski

[TRACK: Ancient Roman Music - Synaulia I]

(You can listen to the tracks in the background if you wish, these are just the songs that either inspire me/listen to while writing the chapter. Some of them are not in the taste of some readers, so it’s not necessary to listen to it. Anyway, enjoy!)

SEPHIROTH had no time to react. Just the immediate grabbing of a woman falling into his arms, blood coating his gloved hands, the collective angry screams of the other girls ganging up on a man still hiding in the room behind them. When he had entered the Poppy Circus Outlet, there were a number of things he was prepared to witness, but what happened in front of room 423 became more or less an example of how he can never be fully able for everything. 

One moment she had been hiding in his chest for help, her neck nipped with a blade, soaking the white sheet that barely covered her body in a light coat of red and soft tears, the next she was being dragged from his hands, and finding himself in the owner’s office with a wet rag to clean the dried blood upon his leather.

Lockwood “Daring” Heart kept his lips sealed as Sephiroth cleaned up the mess, trying to find words on how to describe the situation they all just had witnessed. Daring, who had owned the Poppy Circus for nearly six months, had never considered a mishap as large as one of his girl’s being targeted, let alone letting one of the top men in Midgar see the action unfold.

Daring was the type of man who was always dressed in a pressed suit of purple stripes, short yet thin, with a mustache curled at his sides. Daring had a kinder personality, especially compared to the others in the business. He’d never allow someone like Mr. Dunes to come cut his girls, let alone his most prized ones. He’d always kept such strict regulations, made sure his girls were just as happy as he was. He missed the ball on that one.

“I wasn’t aware you’d be coming in,” Daring said through his teeth, lighting a cigar with shaky hands. A moment passed as he took in a puff, letting it blow through his nose briefly before he tried to continue with his voice more steady. “Your SOLDIER men enjoy their time here, more so than the Honey Bee Inn apparently.”

Sephiroth didn’t say a word, but the tension building in the room made Daring take in another long inhale of his cigar, this time, taking the moment to let it fester in his lungs. Daring was terrified. Even more so when Sephiroth placed the wet, now bloodied, rag on the table beside him, and the ice-cold stare he had given Daring made his heart beat a little too fast.

“Genesis enjoys-”

“I’m not going to have the place shut down,” Sephiroth said, his voice as icy as his personality, but Daring still let out a deep breath at those words.

For a minute, he had thought his booming business was going to shut down. All his girls would be homeless on the streets, no longer taking refuge in their piece of heaven located in sector two.

The Poppy Circus Outlet was a rival to the infamous Honey Bee Inn, but had a lot less strict rules and more beautiful girls to choose from. The only pop of color amidst the construction, decorated in pinks and red, golds and yellows, the lobby displaying artistic views of the female form just to tease on what was hidden behind the iron doors. 

Daring always believed the underdog slum locals would be taking advantage of the Poppy Inn more than any other demographic, but he had been mistaken, poorly so. SOLDIER and all their tight-ass personnel kept coming back, and the more they did, the more money lined his pockets. The red-head with a bit of an attitude problem, Genesis, was a continuous source of money. Despite his ego problem and ridiculous requests, the girls not only loved him, but he always counted on that big paycheck to pay off the building.

If there was one man with the power to turn heads, Sephiroth would be one of them.

“Kalista is perfectly alright,” Daring reassured him, despite not getting a sense he even cared. “Just a little cut, the cheese knife got a bit too close I guess, caused her to panic, and when she panics,” he tried to smile, “they all panic.” Another deep puff caused Daring’s true personality to shine a little more, the happy-go-lucky, eccentric owner the rest of Midgar knew him to be.

“It would be more than a pleasure to continue having SOLDIER business,” Daring said with a click of his tongue, “and I’m sure Kalista would be willing to give an apology if-”

“An apology isn’t needed, it wasn’t her fault.”

“Right, but you know, for the blood. Can be quite damaging to clothing sometimes.” And his forced laughter cut off with an unexpected silence. “Okay, maybe an apology isn’t needed. But I’ll throw in some deals for your SOLDIER and we can forget this ever happened.”

Sephiroth’s brows furrowed just a little, almost as if his face hadn’t moved at all. But Daring could tell, the type of solace only found in men like Sephiroth, the ones who have kept everything so bottled in sometimes it was hard to convey even the best emotions. An enigma, both the same and different from Genesis.

“I want to meet her.”

Daring’s ears burned a bit, thinking it was some play on his mind in the heat of excitement and adrenaline. “Excuse me?”

The small office appeared smaller. The soft glow of red hiding his locked jaw, Sephiroth’s subtle grin, how Daring wished he wasn’t face-to-face with the one and only 1st class General. Any other man who had asked would have been given a flat out no, unless a payment had been provided first, but his tongue dared not say it. His stomach at his feet, the cigar no longer calming his nerves. A million things jumbled in his brain momentarily. 

He let out a nervous chuckle, but the lack of humor in Sephiroth sent shivers down Daring’s spine.

“Kalista is what we call a circi here in Poppy. You need an appointment, money, you can’t just ask to meet her and expect it to happen.”

“You just offered to have her give me an apology.”

“An apology and a meeting is different, at least here it is. Kalista is a busy girl.”

“Genesis always talked so fondly of this place.”

“We don’t allow mundan meetings, General.”

“Mentioned you could leave them on retainer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“A high price to make sure they’re yours and yours only.”

Daring let off a grin, another puff, nodding his head. “If you’re threatening me over this I won’t go down without a fight.”

“I only came to see where Genesis spends his time. No better way than to apologize than allow me just a meeting.

Daring let the smoke of his nose, finally setting his cigar on the ashtray, leaning forward. “One meeting. Ten minutes.”

Sephiroth’s subtle grin returned, “I’ll see what I can do in that time.”

KALISTA bit her tongue as she cleaned the blood from her skin, the graze stinging from the antiseptic soaked in the towel. She couldn’t help the shaking, how close the knife had gone to her face, the blade in her eye’s vision as he ran it up and down her body, scaring her, waiting for her panicked reaction to take over. But as she sat still, feeling the coldness of steel ponder above her thighs, near her waist, up near her neck, her heart began to beat fast, but she couldn’t move a muscle. She was just silently allowing him to lay wet kisses on her cheeks, the blade moving so close to her artery.

Her body hadn’t reacted in time as he pressed it in, his drunken breath filling her nostrils as she shoved him back. Grabbing the spare sheet on the floor in an attempt to run, her eyes growing wet. She didn’t even make it far in the end, simply colliding with something heavy, smelling of soap and a light sense of musk, a man, no one in the Poppy Inn left without a scent of vanilla and honey.

An outsider.

She couldn’t help but hold onto his arms until one of the other girls heard the running. How the man yelled behind her, requesting her to come back. She wouldn’t look, she wanted to escape in the outsider’s scent for a few moments longer.

Kalista  patted the skin as she glanced back in the mirror, inspecting the small cut like it was a war wound. It hadn’t even pierced deep, but Kalista was shaking like it had cut through her muscle and veins. 

Just focus. And Kalista shut her eyes briefly, trying to pine in on the small burn it left. One deep breath, fists clenched on her knees, She’d have to use all her energy, stop shaking for just a second to get the desired results, and just like that, it was done.

Kal took a moment to inspect again, parting her hair to examine her own work. One moment she had bared an unfortunate cut from a cheese knife, the next, it was as if nothing had happened. Minus the still chipping blood near her ear, the deed was no longer visible. Just as she liked it. Daring wouldn’t question it, nor would the girls. 

They knew her secret as well as she did.

Kal took a long drink of the champagne bottle left on her vanity, hoping the alcohol would ease her shattered nerves even briefly. She could hide it, but she couldn’t hide from it.

Thankfully Daring was a good guy or else Kal would have to do everything in her power to hide from that bastard Mr. Dunes. She’d have no need to wait in the halls for him to pass, for him to glance over her as if she was a piece of meat, he’d never have to endure that again, and neither would the others.

Kal finished off the rest of the bottle when a knock had come at her door. She instinctively wrapped her robe around tighter, wiping the smeared red lipstick with her sleeve before she approached the expected visitation.

But when she opened the door, she wasn’t arranged to meet the tall man standing behind him. For a second she had thought Daring was trying to strike up a conversation as he always did with her and her potential customers, but his solemn look said otherwise. It was like he was trying to send her a neurological signal as a warning, but Kal couldn’t tell why.

“Kalista.” Daring greeted her, a smile popping on his face for a second before it completely disappeared. There was a small amount of happiness in his eyes left, but the unfortunate accident had left Daring just as shaken up as she felt. “this is General Sephiroth. He’s the one you bleed all over.” 

Kalista bit her cheek, as always he was pretty blunt when it came to the job. 

“He works for SOLDIER.”

Kal nodded slowly as if she was intently listening, but she was a bit drunk at that point, not to mention Sephiroth seemed a little chillier than the other men Daring would bring down. She constantly walked cautious, and despite Sephiroth not giving off any terrifying vibes just yet, she still had to remain a bit hesitant. It’s how it started with Mr. Dunes. He was a very generous man in the light, but drunk and in the dark, knife-play was possibly the least dangerous thing he could have pulled. She was lucky to find out so quick.

“He wanted to come meet the bleeding woman.” Daring continued with a revamp of his playful tone. Allowing himself into her bedroom, Sephiroth following, Kal got a quick whiff of his soapy smell yet again as he brushed by, and she took in a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry if that’s worth anything,” Kalista said, trying not to bite her lip. She had already scraped off the excess dried skin the past few hours, anymore and she’d tear off her whole bottom lip. The other girl’s would be constantly tearing her apart with their humor, and after the knife, she needed a few days before she could handle being teased by childish entertainment. 

Daring patted her shoulder, “he doesn’t want an apology, Kal. Calm down. He just needs to ask you a few questions.”

Kalista was prepared to say something, but Daring had shushed her like a disobedient child, closing the door behind him before Kal could protest. She should have guessed he’d spring something on her so quickly. 

Sephiroth took a moment to inspect Kalista’s bedroom as Kal reopened her door, escaping to find Daring wherever he had disappeared to. 

Her room was much different than the bright crimson decorating throughout the rest of the Poppy Circus. Everything was coated with deep wine, burgundy, much more calm compared to the exaggerated golds in the hallways. Huge tapestries hung on the walls, a canopy hanging off her bed, large curtains blocking the sunlight, leaving nothing but the soft glow of the candles surrounding him.

Sephiroth stopped in front of her wall paintings, noticing a white streak that read Kalista Shir hidden in the corner. His fingers scraped over it, letting the leather run over the rough texture slowly, but before he could circle through her name, Kalista had stopped him in his tracks.

“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t.” She said, taking in a deep breath. “The oils and dirt on your gloves would erode the paint faster.”

After a quick debriefing with Daring in the hall, she realized Sephiroth was a bigger name than she had originally thought. But that didn’t mean she had to let him run his hands all over her things as if he owned them. Customers paid for sex, not to view an art gallery.

“Do you paint?” Sephiroth asked, and she was taken back by his deeper voice. 

Kal shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Do you also sometimes bleed on men in the hallways?”

Her eyebrows cocked, suppressing a smile. She had a hard time trying to tell if he was being serious or joking. “Yeah, it’s how I always find my next client. You know, a way to make sure they know I mark them before they mark me.” She let off a small grin.

Sephiroth had seen beautiful women all over Midgar, but none who had captivated him as much as Kalista seemed to. Underneath the soft candlelight glow, he could still see the freckles dusting her olive skin. Everywhere. On her exposed shoulders, her cheeks, small moles seen on her hands. Hair as dark as a raven’s wing, curly, cascading down her back, and eyes unlike one’s he’s ever come across. Auburn, almost even more gold than the designs of the Poppy Circus.

“That’s why I asked to come talk to you,” Sephiroth said, moving from the painting, inspecting Kalista’s vanity clear on the other side of the room. “Daring said you're a circi, what does it mean?”

“Daring has a big mouth,” she said quietly, “it’s a fancy word for reserved whore mind you.”

“A bit brash are we not?”

“You can sugarcoat a lot of things, that’s not one of them.”

Sephiroth tried to hide the grin, “how much are you usually reserved for?”

 “Depends I guess. When you put girls on retainers it adds bonus funds.” Kal swallowed hard, but she still tried to remain still, taking a seat in one of the leather chairs in the middle of the room.

“Hmm, like what?”

“The daily cost alone can range between five thosand to six thosand gil, added costs are unknown to me. You’d have to ask Daring about it.”

“He’s a strange man.”

“He’s annoying,” Kal corrected. “He can be good, but most of the time I’m stuck doing his work. If he allowed me to do my job and he does his, we wouldn’t be crossing paths so often.”

Kalista found another bottle of champagne, half-full, and took a moment to take a drink while he continued to inspect the paintings surrounding her room. She kept her eye on him as she tasted the sweet undertones.

“Kalista, correct?” Sephiroth tested the name on his tongue, pausing, turning back towards the open door. He could hear the small giggles and whispers of the other girl’s on the floor, probably listening in. He couldn’t ask the things he wanted. Not yet anyway. 

She was about to answer when he said a simple “take care, Kalista.” Leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. Quietly, Kal sunk deeper in her chair.

When Sephiroth had officially left the building, Daring had popped back into her bedroom, his boisterous voice back and booming in her ear as she always remembered to be. Him begging her to tell him the things Sephiroth had asked, wondering why he had even walked through the Poppy Circus Outlet in the first place. But Kalista had nothing to say, and it would be another twenty-four hours before Kal could hear what he had wanted. 

CHAPTER TWO WILL BE PUBLISHED APRIL 10th, 2020

[fallintosanity]

Since it's pride month, can I ask you what your headcanons are for everyones orientation in Providence? It's not something I can really see coming up in-story, but I'm curious nonetheless. :3

Hoo boy, anon, my answer to this is probably a lot more complex and in-depth than you were expecting, so BUCKLE UP Y’ALL LET’S TALK ABOUT SEX AND SEXUAL ORIENTATION IN SOLDIER

(Note: I’m only going to talk about the original Compilation material for this, since that’s what TFA was written from and that’s what I’m writing Providence from.

Also all of my headcanons are colored by the fact that I am hella aro/ace myself so all flavors of allo are ??? to me)  

First off, major credit to @ageofzero​, who got me started down this headcanon path. The short version of their original headcanon is that SOLDIERs lose their sex drives due to the mako treatments, Jenova cells, and intense physical training regimen. After all, mako poisoning is a known Thing, and Jenova is a bizarre alien with no known gender (the original Japanese game never refers to her with any gender, and it’s strongly implied that her commonly-known feminine form is a shape she adopted to get close to the Cetra. Sephiroth only calls her “Mother” because Hojo lied to him that Jenova was his mother). 

I find this idea fascinating, and think it makes a lot of sense. Of the SOLDIERs we meet, only Zack seems to have any interest in forming romantic bonds with anyone, and even his relationship with Aerith is remarkably chaste. It’s impossible to know whether this is due to an actual intent to depict a chaste romantic relationship, needing to keep the games at a family-friendly rating, cultural differences between Japan and America in terms of how romantic and sexual affection are shown (especially in the 90s), the limitations of the game engine in terms of having the characters physically interact, or some combination of the above, but the result is that the canon we are shown does not include anything approaching a sexual relationship between two characters.*

Given all that, and given the unsettling implications you find if you so much as scratch the surface of ShinRa’s human experimentation**, I think it’s eminently reasonable to believe that however they might have started life, SOLDIERs no longer have sex drives or sexual desire. Which is all an incredibly long-winded way of saying, I headcanon all the SOLDIERs as some flavor of asexual: 

Sephiroth: Extremely aro/ace. I’ve talked before about how I think he sees people and relationships differently than humans do, and that extends to romance and sex. I’m not even sure “aro/ace” is the right label for him under those circumstances, but it’s close enough. 

Genesis: Ace, bi- or homoromantic. TFA and its non-canon side pieces suggest Genesis is romantically interested in Cloud (which I’ve been carrying into Providence), and we have no idea if he’s ever been romantically interested in anyone else. 

Angeal: Ace, probably either aro or heteroromantic. Like Genesis, we never see him express romantic interest in anyone, but it’s possible he does off-screen. 

Zack: Probably would have been bi or poly if he wasn’t in SOLDIER; as is, ace and bi- or poly-romantic. (but really only has eyes for Aerith) 

Kunsel: Ace, maybe demi-romantic? He’s eighteen in Providence and has been focused on rising through the SOLDIER ranks; I don’t think he himself knows for sure. 

Cloud: A bit of an outlier because I headcanon that he would have been aro/ace even if he hadn’t gotten the mako/Jenova treatments. At no point in any of the original game or greater Compilation does he express romantic or sexual interest in anyone. He cares deeply about Aerith and Tifa both, but at no point says or does anything to suggest that it’s romantic or sexual in nature. Tifa occasionally says things which imply she sees her relationship with Cloud that way, but he never responds in kind. At best, his childhood interest in her could be a bit of a puppy crush, but that doesn’t rule out aro/ace Cloud since so many aro/aces do experience puppy crushes or squishes that aren’t sexual/romantic in nature. Or it could be as simple as, Tifa was the popular kid and Cloud was the outcast kid, and he was interested in her because if she was friends with him, then maybe he wouldn’t be an outcast anymore. (I lied, I’m going to talk about the Remake for a second because I’m intrigued that it appears to have doubled down hard on ace!Cloud, to the point where a lot of people have said “I don’t normally have ace headcanons, but Remake!Cloud is ace”. He’s either completely oblivious to, or visibly uncomfortable with, half the cast wanting to get into his pants. Even when Aerith warns him not to fall in love with her, his objection is to her telling him what to do yet again rather than anything about his actual feelings.) 

Noctis: I realized as I was writing this post that I also headcanon Noctis as ace and probably aro- or demi-romantic. Like Cloud, we never see him express romantic or sexual interest toward anyone, which is notable given that he’s supposed to be marrying Lunafreya. He certainly seems to care deeply about her, but - like Cloud and Tifa/Aerith - his affection can be easily read as a close childhood friendship, and depending on which answers you give in the notebook choices, can canonically be brusque and uninterested. He’s also visibly uncomfortable with Gladio’s flirting (with other people) and Iris’s flirting (with Noct himself). Since we do see Gladio flirting, pretty brazenly sometimes, and we hear Prompto chatter about his crush on Cindy, Noct’s silence on the matter is telling. (He also throws an interesting wrench into the works around the SOLDIER castration headcanon, since he did get the treatments but they affected him very differently than everyone else. But I can’t say too much else there without venturing into spoiler territory.) 

So anyway hi, my name is Sanity and I have a lot of ace headcanons. ^_^;

* The closest we get is the scene near the end of the original game, with Cloud and Tifa under the Highwind before the final battle. The scene itself is, again, remarkably chaste. Depending on your Affection value with Tifa, it’s not even all that romantic; it reads mostly like two friends who have been through a lot together. The few lines that do shade toward romance all come from Tifa herself, not Cloud. Also, what Tifa says the next morning on the Highwind changes depending on whether or not your Affection value is high enough; if yes, she asks the others, “Were you watching?” and if no, she asks, “Were you listening?”. So it’s possible to get a canon path which suggests Tifa and Cloud did something she didn’t want the others watching, but 1) that still leaves a lot of room for interpretation, and 2) it’s equally possible to get a canon path which suggests nothing happened at all.

** I’m just going to quote @ageofzero​ here because they put it best: “It might've been an unintended side-effect, of course, but idk how anyone could've thought 'let's put Mako inside human beings' when everyone knows what a powerful burning energy source Mako is and what the hell that might do inside a human when people have likely already suffered Mako poisoning from building Midgar/the reactors. And also considering that Mako is a 'refining' of Lifestream that basically strips away all the benefits of Life within it, there's no way it's not some kind of reproduction dampening substance, among many other negative consequences. [...] ESPECIALLY since a lot of SOLDIERs probably start out in their teen years (Zack, and Cloud's attempt). They're still developing humans, and who knows what effects Mako has on someone who's still passing through adolescence???? Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth are all even worse off because they were babies when they were made prototype experiments for the SOLDIER method. [...] I can't imagine mako doing anything but turning the body into a weird toxic mess even if it is controlled and regulated so they don't suffer the loss of their mind. And what the hell does it do to SOLDIERs on a DNA level?? With how much mako (and Jenova cells) there is in their body, it could turn body fluids into burning/glowing/toxic substances. All body fluids. Or at the very least make it Not Good to be exposed to said fluids, if they're not directly toxic/mako-infused. It might very well be the brain turning off reproductive desires bc SOLDIERs are a biological dead end by the time they're strong enough to be considered SOLDIER. What a chilling concept (also hello I like thinking about weird biology).”

[avoutput]

Final Fantasy VII Legacy || Nomura, Complex?

This is the 3rd out of 3 articles. Find the second here.

It’s time to get down to mythril tacks. At this point, I have talked about what this game meant to me when it was released and how it’s newest installment fared as a game. Finally, it’s time to talk about the impact the Remake has on what has unexpectedly become a robust and diverse universe. What does this mean for us at large, the players? This is a no-holds-barred SPOILER frenzy about anything and everything in the Squaresoft/Square-Enix pantheon. This means not just the games in the orbit of Final Fantasy VII, but the entire catalog at Square-Enix. To be honest, this is just the introduction, I don’t know if I even have an intent of going so far beyond the purview of the Remake, but in the spirit of the Final Fantasy gatekeeper, Tetsuya Nomura, I refuse to limit myself.

It’s been almost exactly a month since I started writing this article. It took so long to come back to this because I kept finding more and more content related to Final Fantasy 7 that I either forgot about or didn’t even know existed. On my own shelf sits Advent Children, Dirge of Cerberus, and Crisis Core. I decided to watch Advent Children immediately after beating Remake. As a movie fan and amateur critic, the film is littered with terrible film decisions and was clearly the work of people who spend much of their time penning and creating video game stories. It’s a series of cutscenes without a controller attached and at a certain point, you realize Advent Children was never meant for film fans, but for fans of the game. Specifically for fans desiring an epilogue and more directly fans of Cloud, Tifa, and Sephiroth. The story is almost unintelligible because there is tons of connective tissue left to be assumed by the viewer. It is at once too far removed from FF7 in both linear real time and in-game universe time to be recognizable, and simultaneously inexplicable in what has transpired and why. It takes a crack at explaining it from moment to moment, but largely, it looks like they were looking for excuses to push the characters to act. I am not trying to review the film but rather my intent is to create a modus opendai for the gatekeeper, Mr. Nomura. The more I learned about the world of FF7 that was being created over the years, the more it seemed to lean on the stylings of this one man. In a way, Nomura launched Squaresoft and himself into a whole new stratosphere of fame and broke all expectations. In my first article, I mentioned that for a certain generation of fans, it was the perfect storm, but I would later find out the cause of the storm was Nomura breaking open lightning in a bottle, releasing his brand of design on the world with a multi-million dollar international company backing him.

If I may, let me take a parallel series by the same creator infested by the meta of his own other original creations, namely Kingdom Hearts. In its inception, it looks like two producers at Square were trying to make a 3-D adventure platformer game with characters as popular as Mario, but only the biggest brand on earth, Disney, could possibly beat the king of platformers. Nomura was… walking by and pushed himself into the conversation, and they decided if they could do it, they would let him direct. (Read more here) Yada yada yada, Kingdom Hearts was created. While I can’t seem to find (and didn’t look too hard to find) proof, I can only imagine that with KH having a tenuous new relationship with big-corp Disney, they focused more on a simple game that was straightforward. KH is very much a disney product with a little bit of artificial Nomura sweetener. With its unbridled success, Nomura was unleashed. Kingdom Hearts 2 would go on to be, in my opinion, one of the most unintelligible video game stories ever inscribed to plastic discs. But the power of Nomura’s story-telling is that we all understand it differently. He creates bedrocks, little story islands of unshakable facts that are connected via a salty sea of undefinable liquid moments. Cast out to sea, rudderless and deprived, you try to bring to your mouth this brine only to be dehydrated faster than if you had just sailed the sea and died in the sun between fact islands or lived long enough to tell the tale. And that metaphor is my tribute to Nomura. Long, winding, hard to remember, and just clear enough that you think you got it, but you still have problems with its construction.

It has now been over two months since I have last visited this article. What is keeping me from continuing? The incomplete nature of my knowledge of Final Fantasy VII lore. Unlike the Kingdom Hearts sea, VII is like a series of interconnected caves, and the more you unearth the more you learn. And therein lies the problem. The Nomura-verse is composed of both his methods and his circumstances. His methods, we have discussed, but his circumstance is game development. Unlike movies or books, games obviously have an interactive capability, but they also have a variable development cycle. Some titles come out quickly, others span decades. They also consist of different teams, story writers, directors, and a myriad of producers. This in turn can make it much harder to make a solid universe, especially when new additions start off in a place where a continuous story was never meant to exist. Nomura is at once hindered and strengthened by his circumstances. He can’t tell a better story because the development cycle of his vision is variable, and success is based on sales and popularity. Without success, he can’t create a new addition, and often in games, the end is meant to tie the whole thing up. Were there to be a sequel, a whole new story is thought up and tacked on wherever it fits. Gamers are pretty forgiving of this concept. Still, at the same time, Nomura probably wouldn’t make a concise story because it's not his style. For comparison, see the Dark Souls series. A game that both has deep lore and an involving story, but at the same time, the game doesn’t require you to know a single point to continue moving forward. This is almost the antithesis of Nomura’s style. In Souls, they let the player decide to explore its story caves, but doesn’t confront them with it to continue advancing. This is a strength of  video games. A strength that Nomura keeps using to his disadvantage.

Yet, Final Fantasy VII still excelled to unparalleled heights. It engages you in the same way all of the previous games in the series have, but with a slight departure on the strict fantasy theme, instead a merger with steampunk or semi-future. The series was changed forever, and so was gaming. Instead of doing the Dragon Quest method, expanding on the same universe design with different stories, Final Fantasy was emboldened to try completely random approaches with vector entries like VIII and X. For longtime fans, or fans of their original design, Every future title, MMO or Single Player, would go on to be successful, but not fully realized in their original context. Even the return to form in IX was much more playful than any of the original six entries. Gaming franchises have since become playgrounds for developers. Once they are accepted by fans, developers are emboldened and experiment with what would normally be a new IP, but instead use the financial shield of the famous namesake to move forward with new ideas. And in the case of Final Fantasy, when this concept of change works, it means that every numbered game becomes a wildcard. It’s a double edged sword for a gaming franchise that dates back to the 8-bit era. It has fans over 40 years old by this point and they may be willing to buy anything new. But this isn’t new to you and it isn’t a revelation for me. Final Fantasy VII Remake causes me to reckon with these demons I had buried years ago. It rips off a scab I thought had healed. I had given up on the past, a past where I was excited for a singular story, contained in a single universe, in a single title. I had given up on the glory years of Final Fantasy, but the Remake took me back and said, what if we told you everything you remember about the original was true, and everything we added after that was also true, even though you probably didn’t play it or even know it existed. Even if you do your very best, you probably won’t be able to track the story or interconnected characters if you aren’t in the know. It’s like joining a group of long time friends that are constantly referencing inside jokes, all of them just winking at each other, nudging you in the ribs and asking, “Do ya get it?” Truly, the Remake series thus far makes me feel lost at sea when what I wanted to feel like was coming home.

This retrospective has left me feeling broken. Based on the end of the FFVIIR, I sought out to reconcile all of the loose ends to all the connected media. However, spending time with the prequel Crisis Core for over around 40 hours, I realized this was a crapshoot. None of it mattered. It didn’t enrich the characters, it only made the story longer. It just added wibbly-wobbly, timey-whimey “facts” to an otherwise complete(ish) origin point. The FFVII universe can’t handle the weight that is put on it. It’s a faulty bridge over a treacherous pass. On the other hand, that same bridge for some is a point of excitement. You tread the boards, one by one, testing your weight, hoping to get to the other side intact. And I think that is why we keep trying these games and why they keep getting made. We don’t want the fun to end, despite the fact that it has nothing left for us to be excited by. It’s a closed loop that we keep looking for something new in. By the end of the Remake, we are somewhere between ⅓ or ½ way across the faulty bridge, dangling between where we have been and where it is taking us. At this point, I am too mentally exhausted from trying to make sense of it all. Yet I am incapable of not enjoying it, the mental somersaults one does to understand the interconnected mess that is Final Fantasy VII. It’s too dear to me. I got on the bridge for so many reasons, but the biggest one is to be on the other side with all of the other fans who dared to play and dared to complete the game. To be in the know, to wink across the room. I want to be in that hyper-critical utopia where we all have one thing in common: We played Final Fantasy VII in 1997. And we all have something to say about it.

[ghostofnibelheim]

cosmoscompressed​:

Whether or not he intended them as such, Ultimecia took Sephiroth’s words as a compliment. Although she found her mortal body limiting, a mere cocoon for the power she held within, she nonetheless took pride in her appearance and how she manipulated her attire to express a sense of the infinite. As her lips stretched in a warm smile, she bowed her head and pressed a hand to her heart, proceeding to flatter him in return.

“Do not demean yourself, my dear. Whatever your creative faculties may be, I am sure you are an artist with the blade. It is my sincere hope to find myself audience before you and an army of men, to listen as you conduct a symphony in steel.”

Lifting up her arms back behind her head, Ultimecia closed her eyes and began to unfasten her headdress; and having removed it, she pitched it aside, where it vanished into the fabric of her gown. Opening her eyes once more, she approached Sephiroth; and as she did, her silver hair whipped up in her wake, unspooling further and further in contrast to the satin sea, until it too seemed to stretch infinitely into the horizon. As she drew herself closer to him, she raised a lone finger, taking up the lingering strand of conversation.

“Ah, to defy destiny - now there is ambition in its truest form. To achieve divinity - the freedom to do and be as one wills - is the most mortal of all desires. Society cannot abide souls such as ours. For all its incoherent aims, nothing unites it like the presence of one who dares deny its dominion. The particulars of your struggle may be unknown to me, but of this I am certain: your rivals were not worthy of you. They may have succeeded, for a time, in striking you down, just as mine did me - but still, we persist, irrepressible in our ends. Destiny has done its worst, and yet we endure. Perhaps we ought be grateful to it, for it has, in the certainty of its rule, erred egregiously in bringing us together.”

Ultimecia paused for a moment, folding her hands before her.

“To this place it has brought us, adrift at the Edge of Creation. And if here we have come, surely to where we are respectively from, we might return - wiser, perhaps, for the wear.”​

Such lofty words from this woman.

And still, there was something unmistakably intriguing in the way she carried herself and her preaching. Sephiroth had spent his fair share of time listening to politicians, another shard of that past to be forsaken, and thought himself immune to their charisma. This one, Ultimecia, wasn’t exactly a diplomatic, but he recognized in her the same oral ability to capture the audience. Perhaps where she came from, people like her were designated rulers of some sort.

Something he was not so inclined to entertain, or so he believed. Yet he was still listening, cold serpentine eyes following her fluent movements with suspicion behind the mask of faint humor. The smallest upward curve in the corner of his lips.

“Together, you say.”

He spoke, carrying slight sarcasm laced in his words, though the tone remained calm as usual. In the way he regarded her, head tilting just a bit with the shy dancing of long silver bangs ghosting his jawline, there was perhaps provocation.

“You speak a lot of praise, but your aims and motives remain well hidden still. Aren’t you trying to use me, under the ruse of an alliance?”