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whitesilverandmercury · 9 months

Text

zack/aerith headcanon vignette

compiling on AO3

in which zack thinks about aerith alone in his room

—

june [ ν ] εγλ 0001

He thinks of all the ways she says his name and all the ways she could.

Zack.

High in pitch, even in tone, placing it between them like a flower.

Za~ack!

Lilted by laughter. Gilded with giggles.

—Zack!

Surprised. He’s given her a play-scare. He’s tripped in public. His name in her mouth pivots up halfway through, punctuated by a pout.

Zack.

Slanted down firm. Under her breath. He’s done something dumb, said something dumber. Sometimes one of the somethings is at least cute and she’s trying not to smile. Sometimes she’s the cute one and she’s flustered, she’s giving him a light shove and he’s laughing.

Za~ck!

They’re in the market. She’s calling a puppy back to her side. Her hand is on the back of his arm or her finger hooked in the loop of his SOLDIER belt.

Zack .

They’re leaning nose to nose in a contest of flirting stubbornness, daring the other to give in first.

Za—!

Half his name. They’re half-wrestling. She’s winning. Her hair is messy and her triumphant grin is the sun.

Zack.

When Tseng has just left. When Tseng is just arriving. When she knows more than he does.

Zack—!

He’s heaved open the church doors, she’s turning with a whip of the braid and eyes green as a wildflower ready to bloom.

…Zack.

Quiet, gentle upturn of a question with no answer yet. Face open like a cupped palm, her smile faint but as present as the heart line curling through the middle.

Zack?

Short, sweet, beckoning his attention.

Zack…

Breathy. Soft. Warm. The tension of a gasp in reverse.

Alone in his First Class dorm, he touches himself.

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whitesilverandmercury · 9 months

Text

ff7 fic: (a)chronology of now [ 2 / ?? ]

timeline · ff7 chronology project

song pairings · francis forever, mitski / citizen/soldier, 3 doors down / the girl, city & colour / rule #9 - child of the stars, fish in a birdcage / happy just to know, tommy ashby, lydia clowes / boys club, ivory hours, luke roes / pretty boy, lennon stella / in darkness we trust, deadly circus fire / you're not alone, saosin / guilty hands, the senate / she, dodie / remind me to forget you, seafret / i've got this friend, the civil wars

content · profanity, allusions to / sexual content, blood, drug use

ships · zerith, clerith, zakkura, zack/aerith/cloud

chapter 2 / THE UNKNOWN JOURNEY AWAITS

—

october [ ν ] - εγλ 0007

He’s on a tree-lined street and the trees are glowing. They’re not trees. They’re streetlights or whatever wants to be a streetlight when it grows up. Look, a flower shop. ( ) flower shop. Cloud is getting distracted. Chittering filament in electric store signs, twisted into word shapes like balloons twisted into animal shapes it’s so fucking loud can everyone just shut the fuck up? Someone drags a corrugated panel down over a window click click click click like emptied chambers. Go home he’s going, fuck. ( ) on the corner fixing her braid. Keep moving go back he’s staring at a wall with so many broken bones little scales layers of teeth gotta get back ( ) waiting Not teeth, fliers. A public bulletin board at the station. Papers slipping and flapping in the heave of wind from trains coming, going. Ads. Arrival/departure. City map. Hell-ooo are you in there? Lost cat. Lost child. A dog with a soldier’s helmet. ( ) puts a hand on his shoulder babe let’s go home hey buddy watch where you’re going He’s going home home home what do angels dream of?

Someone’s singing. Someone’s cooking mako derivative in a pipe in the alley ( ) cooking dinner for them, Mom’s recipe hold your fire! The fuck you staring at gotta get back get back where? Home home home. Where is ( )? Fire. Alley bricks, such a lovely texture under his hand, one glove off and shoved in his belt for safekeeping mommy what’s on his face I miss you more than anything Sir are you OK? Spent clips. I think you’re bleeding welcome to the undercity bitch Fire. ( ) laughing sunlight. ( ) laughing gunfire. Ads. Arrival/departure. Map. Lost child. Lost. Sir are you a living legacy? Dog with a soldier’s helmet. Fucking hilarious. He’s laughing about it. Hell-ooo? ( ) is waiting at home or the church ( ) says meet at the station. He’s waiting. Heave of wind, trains coming, going, someone’s picking through the trash at the corner, someone’s nailing down scrap metal roof shingles, children are scrubbing cobbled stone for chump change, can we go home, someone’s arguing with a clothesline three stories up mommy he has a (gun) big sword! Blood on the blade. Blood and dirt and rain. Give ( ) kiss for me. Green glow at the belly of a sidewinder alley busted pipe arrival/departure. Home. Cloud rubs at his face, rubs at brick, lost cat. Lost fire. Lost flower. Losing baby teeth. Lost blood. ( ) lost. Lost ( ). Lost a gil, heads up for good luck? Lost his cookies. I miss you. More than anything. Waiting. One hand still naked, one hand out trying to close his fist on the windshear of trains coming trains going trains coming trains going where are they going? Where are they leaving him behind for? Let’s go home.

“Cloud—”

Cloud blinks. He turns to look, dirty hair dancing in and out of his face in the gust of a passing train. ( ) is elbowing her way through strangers. (She) calls his name again, dark hair swishing like the tail of a fish swimming upstream, futile and trying like it isn’t. (Tifa?) grabs his arm. “Cloud?” Her voice breaks. “Cloud, it’s me—” Tifa’s eyes, flicking around his face. Stop, he’s dizzy. Stop. They sit on the curb. Do angels dream of dying? Tifa is turning his arms over in her lap, looking for something. “Cloud, whose blood is that?” Thumb, tracing his veins. “OK, I’m just gonna ask, all right? You’ll understand.” Sure. “Are you using it?” Currents of people swim past them with or without second glances if even first glances. Tifa, snapping her fingers for his attention. “Mako. Are you self-injecting?” Not like it would matter, he’s got years of mako in him already. He’s First Class. SOLDIER. Wait, no, Tifa—ex. Ex-SOLDIER. The SOLDIER is dead.

Tifa stares. Swims. She says, “Let’s go home, Cloud.”

—

september [ μ ] - εγλ 2000

On the same stretch of upper dock where drill weekends are called, uniformed boys and men graduating from boot camp stand in formation listening to SOLDIER’s recruitment program introduction. The speech is led by Angeal, First Class. One of the Big Three. Or—the Big Two, now. Cloud was all nerves and fast heart but Sephiroth does not make an appearance. Angeal’s voice booms. Each new infantry member will engage in a baseline screening, with the sort of advanced biotechnology Shinra’s Science Department pioneers. Eligible candidates will be notified, invited to apply for the program. No Genesis, not for a while now, apparently. No Sephiroth, just Angeal walking and rewalking the same line before them, arms crossed, in the dull green overcast so close to the central reactor. Behind him—Zack Fair, Second Class. Mentee of the second most elite of the elite. Standing there all messy dark hair and hip cocked, manning the digital tablet from which presentation slides are cast to the projector which casts them huge and holographic against a backdrop of sleek topside buildings, Midgar expressway arching its back across a dark sky. Scary good, Cloud has overheard, more often than bitter infantry saying Puppy or Angeal’s Bitch. Zack Fair, scary good, on his way to First Class already, and unaware as is most everyone else how soon he will be filling the space Genesis left. This could be any one of them, Angeal says. This could be any one of you.

—

june [ ν ] εγλ 0001

He thinks of all the ways she says his name and all the ways she could.

Zack.

High in pitch, even in tone, placing it between them like a flower.

Za~ack!

Lilted by laughter. Gilded with giggles.

—Zack!

Surprised. He’s given her a play-scare. He’s tripped in public. His name in her mouth pivots up halfway through, punctuated by a pout.

Zack.

Za~ck!

They’re in the market. She’s calling a puppy back to her side. Her hand is on the back of his arm or her finger hooked in the loop of his SOLDIER belt.

Zack .

They’re leaning nose to nose in a contest of flirting stubbornness, daring the other to give in first.

Za—!

Half his name. They’re half-wrestling. She’s winning. Her hair is messy and her triumphant grin is the sun.

Zack.

When Tseng has just left. When Tseng is just arriving. When she knows more than he does.

Zack—!

He’s heaved open the church doors, she’s turning with a whip of the braid and eyes green as a wildflower ready to bloom.

…Zack.

Quiet, gentle upturn of a question with no answer yet. Face open like a cupped palm, her smile faint but as present as the heart line curling through the middle.

Zack?

Short, sweet, beckoning his attention.

Zack…

Breathy. Soft. Warm. The tension of a gasp in reverse.

Alone in his First Class dorm, he touches himself.

—

[ μ ] - εγλ 1989

She’s dreaming of dying bees, the tickle of wings and legs and stingers. Lots of flowers. The bees crawl up the stems and onto her fingers, up her hands and onto her arms. She doesn’t know how to explain what a bee is. They bite. They leave little dots up her wrists like the Doctors’ needles and she sits in her dream garden trying to peel up the edges of medical tape but it’s too hard. Aerith wakes up crying, she hates the Doctor room so blue and gray and blinking screens on the walls, she wants to be back in the room with Mommy. “Hey,” says the boy with silver hair and a knit sweater, reading a book in a seat against the wall. “At least she’ll be back soon.” What’s he doing here? “Checkup.” What’s he reading? Awkwardly, a pause. He says, “About bees.”

—

june [ ν ] - εγλ 0001

The first time he calls her Sunshine like Mom calls her Honey, a flustered warmth blooms in Aerith’s face and her stomach pinches. She wants to push him, she says What? You’re silly, Zack. He’s in a squat beside her, he’s laughing like he’s not nervous at all. “Nah!” He gestures, nods, props his elbows on his knees. His eyes, bright from mako and brighter from something else more pure. “It’s because flowers can’t grow without sunshine. Plus, you’re always sunshine on my rainy days.”

...

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