#Save/Crack: Rufus Shinra

[bylightofdawn]

Cannot escape the brainrot

Someone send help. The Tseng/Reeve brainrot is consuming me alive.

I keep thinking about that scene where Reeve is having the lowkey time of his life causing chaos and getting up to tech shenanigans and Tseng tells him to not have too much fun. And then this motherfucker has the AUDACITY to give one of the sexiest one-sided, so fast it's there and gone smirks known to man.

THIS MAN CAN SMIRK. REEVE TUESTI MANAGES TO BREAK THE STOICISM OF TSENG ENOUGH THE MAN SMIRKS AND MAKES JOKES.

I’m not saying Tseng is an emotionless robot. We’ve clearly seen him upset and mourning Zack. And tender with Aerith but who knew the boy had JOKES too?

This brain rot will not leave my head.

Also the shift my shipping has taken in my latest foray into this fandom is wild. Baby!El was all about that Tseng/Reno vibe like pretty much everyone else who were into Turks. Sure, you put a Tseng/Rufus fic in front of me I would read it. There used to be this huge fanfic series which was Reno/Tseng and then Reno/Reeve of all cracky things which has disappeared off the internet sadly. I've been trying to find it but alas, only fic title I remember was something like "Did I scare you?" which is prolly wrong and I cannot find anything online.

So my Turks/Reeve kink is hardly new. Then DoC went through and while I never even finished that game cause it was kinda...bad. I do remember shipping Reeve/Vincent.

But this time around? Somehow I never even considered the amazing not-so-crack ship but actually kinda perfect ship of Reeve/Rufus. Especially in a post FF7. You have Rufus, the corpobaby who decides he knows what's right for the planet because his ego is so huge that he decides he's going to take over his father's empire from the inside out. And Reeve, the hardworking guy seemingly from humble origins whose sheer idealism will not let him rot away in a corpojob and decides to say fuck it after the plate falls and is going to take Shinra down from the inside out.

And then the world ends and Reeve steps up to lead efforts to save the planet and Rufus is secretly funneling him money to run said world-saving organization?? (though I will admit my memory is a little shady on that last part. I think that happened but it could be fandom but what glorious fandom it is.) Also might I present to you Rufus and his two super hyper competent sidekick ship of Tseng/Rufus/Reeve who specialize in keeping his moral compass relatively on the side of good when the capacity to do so much wrong is right there.

SO YEAH, WHAT I AM GETTING FROM MY LATEST DIP INTO FF7 FANDOM IS THAT I HAVE TURNED REEVE TUESTI INTO THE FANDOM BICYCLE IN MY BRAIN. Give me all the Turks + Rufus/Reeve ships please.

#el plays video games #in which el is filthy multishipper like always #gods save me from my weird hyperfixations #FF7 shipping #reeve tuesti #ff7 rebirth spoilers #final fantasy rebirth spoilers #turks/reeve #tseng/reeve #rufus/reeve #also ship names in this fandom are lowkey an abomination. #tseeve?? tsengru

[aplistiarct]

@ofdeference asked: The rain falls so thick it becomes a wall before him, it's white noise echoes in empty streets and dulls the senses. The metallic stench of the metal city rises like a miasma from the torrential downpour. Nothing can quell the unease in his stomach save for that of the waiting limo beyond. The crack of thunder is loud even in the din. Shoulder aches with the weight of the storm's atmosphere and as he reaches to readjust bone into place he staggers under the agony that tears through him. Warmth spills down non-responsive arm, the silver street beneath him turns red. Fuck. Cover is the first thing he seeks, his gun the second. A flash of a muzzle and a bullet whizzes by his head. Another flash, another bullet whines. He takes aim, fires, a bullet between the brow. Good fucking riddance. He won't go down easy. No one will have that privilege. Another shot hisses feet from him, he fires back. The rain follows a steady stream down angular features into his eyes and he blinks it back, unsuccessful, dripping wet. His umbrella drifts unforgotten in the middle of the street, it's Shinra logo tumbling over and over itself as the top spins. An image of Rufus surfaces, hazy, water logged, glimmering and distant. He takes another shot and- There's a sound to his left, curiosity pulls his attention but the bite of another bullet tearing through his side chastises him for hoping. That's what you get. Veld... You're sloppy, tighten it up. Don't ever let them surround you. Tseng doesn't need to see to know where to shoot, their footsteps are rushed and loud. They're children thinking they know the game. He plays it better. Muzzle raised, the shot echoes out and the sick wet pop of skull separating from brain breaks the dull noise of the rain. He can hear whoever is left standing retreating. Angry hurried splashes in gathering puddles. He fishes in his pockets for his PHS, feels the hole burned through it and curses. Limps to the toll booth illuminated by the first street light to come on this evening. Change...he needs- gil. Other pocket...wallet- fuck. His fingers feel like they're frozen, slow to react they feel...heavy...swollen...they won't bend the way he needs but he's almost there. The coins plop in and ring metallic when they hit their fellow gil, the woman's automated voice is a blur. He can't understand her. His eyes feel heavy everything....everything....feels... The other line picks up.

Pedantic little fucks with their superiority complex, their small dicks and their fat fucking wallets. He tolerates them because he must. This company will be his one day and so will their money. For now he will laugh at terrible jokes, humor what-ifs and promises he never intends to keep.

Just when he's about ready to put his own shotgun in his mouth and pull the trigger, his phone vibrates. A little early, but he'll take it. Tseng's always had this uncanny knack of knowing him, body and soul, despite having only known one another for so little time in comparison.

A smile curls his lips in spite of himself when he answers, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Just in time I was about to die of boredom. Are you waiting for me downstairs?"

There is nothing but what sounds like static on the other end. He frowns and waits for the Turk's confirmation a whole of two seconds.

"Tseng?"

Static. Is that- a breath? Rattling, like he's breathing in water.

"Tseng." It isn't a question this time. It's a demand. Answer, you bastard. Quit playing games with him. Why is his heart pounding? Why is it louder than the fucking band playing twenty feet away in the god damn grand hall?

#ofdeference #Fuck. #You.

[meteodrives]

the lights were dimmed, almost as if it hurt their eyes to look at one another, adding to the already dark atmosphere. too much trauma & guilt had wedged itself between the cracks of their hearts. she supposed, because of such a divide, there was no way for them to truly be friends in the traditional sense. the ache of time had bonded them together, but he'd rather be elsewhere — even if he was unaware of it. she wondered just what was running through his mind & why he preferred the quiet moments, as opposed to her attempts at lighthearted conversation. 

   𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚄𝙳   :      ❛  do you hate me ?  ❜   cloud asked in the middle of the night, surrounded by nothing but silence as they settled down somewhere in the remains of midgar. the world was saved, but none of them came out unscathed. cloud knew he scathed her, abit with his sharp tongue but their connection to their home, being the last remaining pieces of it — it went much deeper than that. regret was not a feeling he was familiar with. rufus made sure of that. rufus was also dead now & shinra was no longer. was this everything she wanted, he wonders. 

          her head turned towards him, searching for any sign of life that wasn't bruised. he took her off guard, more often than she cared to admit. when nothing capable of being read was detected, her eyes glanced down to the scuff on her boots. it was far easier to face than him. did she hate him? could she ever? he had pulled quite a few strings to keep her from becoming another name on a list of the dead — whilst being the main reason she may end up on there. in some sick & twisted way, they cancelled one another out. that made up for the additional pain he caused. utterly grateful nonetheless, she was — it could only be described as such. in the midst of transitioning to this new life, perhaps she had forgotten to remind him of this or even tell him at all.  ( what a heavy burden an anxious heart was  ... )

❛   ...  you can be a pretty tough customer ,  ❜  she remarked, making up for all the failed times of getting the wording right. difficult, but not enough to be hated. are you afraid of me? he had asked her once before, only to be met with :  i don't know.  ( in some ways ,  such a response was worse than a confirmation . )   ❛  but i  ...  don't hate you .  ❜   he was no good at deciphering her words — especially when she tiptoed around them. it was a realization that came all too late. straightforward truths were the only way to keep troublesome thoughts at bay for both parties.   ❛  guess we were both pretty awful to each other ,  huh ?  ❜   all the turmoil she had unintentionally put him through ...   ❛  do you  ...  hate me ?  ❜   tifa voiced, low & soft.  ( a question asked  —  uncertain the answer was worth knowing . ) 

*      ◞      @cloudvii , unprompted !

#cloudvii #verse ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ) —— ⋆ ･ﾟ * // she mediated by turns on broken promises & broken arches . #WELL THEN

[ourhearts-beatasone]

@ivory-paragon asked:  ∗ 21﹕ sender  overtakes  receiver  in  combat . [ Fight me RENO ]

Growing up in the streets of Midgar had provided Reno with a lot of life lessons on how to keep himself alive with a minimum of resources and under the roughest conditions, which turned out especially helpful during his work as a Turk. He knew how to save his strength if he had to go without food or water for a few days, how to kill people stealthily from behind (if he managed to shut up for once), how to stitch up even the deepest cuts without any healing materia or potions on hand and most importantly he had an incredibly high pain tolerance. He was especially proud of the latter; more than once or twice his opponents had called him a tough son of a bitch and hard to kill, because no matter how bloodied they had beaten him he simply refused to stay down. Reno liked to act tough and cold, but the simple truth was that he cared, he cared so much. Not really about his own well-being, but the well-being of everyone that was dear to him.

The last mission had been a mess. Eventually they had killed the bastards that were preparing to bomb the Shinra tower and accomplished their mission, Reno would hot have accepted anything else, but they had paid a price for it. Reno was still sporting a couple of cracked ribs and a broken nose, his whole body was covered in bruises, but Rude had it worse. At the climax of their battle he had been shot and barely made it out alive, now he still was in the infirmary and as far as Reno knew still in critical condition.

Reno hated this! He was the second in command of the Turks, he was supposed to take care of Rude, what good did all his knowledge and skills do if they didn’t help him protect his partner?

Now Reno was back in the Turks’ quarters, their very own training room to be precise, and he kept slamming his bare fists into the punch bag, his knuckles  were already bruised and bleeding, but Reno didn’t want to stop, he just wanted to feel something, anything else than this unbearable guilt that was tearing him apart.

When someone else entered the room Reno didn’t bother to stop and turn around to see who it was, he didn’t care, but then someone grabbed his wrist to force him to stop and as he looked up he was actually surprised. “Rufus?”, the redhead asked as if he really couldn’t believe who was standing in front of him; Reno had expected Tseng to come down here and scold him, but the president himself? “I don’t have time for you right now, can’t you see I’m busy?”, Reno asked with an impatient tone in his voice as he pulled his wrist free and he cursed under his breath as he barely managed to dodge the punch Rufus was throwing at him. “Hey, man, what the fuck?!” But the only answer to this rather unspecific question was another punch, then another and finally a kick that hit Reno right in his injured ribs and left him breathless. What the hell was going on, did he fuck up that badly that the president decided to punish him and beat the shit out of Reno all by himself?

Reno growled in frustration, but if Rufus wanted to pick a fight with him then he would welcome the distraction and when he finally threw a punch himself he could hear Rufus’ oh so familiar laughter, a clear sign of him simply being amused by the situation and that didn’t help the hotheaded Reno to calm down one bit. He knew Rufus could easily hold himself in a fight, trained to use all kinds of guns with almost perfect aim and skilled in various self-defense combat arts, he was not someone to be underestimated. But he also knew that meant Rufus was not an opponent he had to go easy on. So he didn’t.

The both of them ended up sparring rather intensively, the room was filled with their heavy breathing and even though Reno was slowing down and obviously in pain from this demanding match he didn’t stop or ask for a break. Rufus seemed to notice that and he probably had enough of seeing Reno act recklessly like that, because there was one quick punch to his broken nose he didn’t see coming at all and then Rufus grabbed his wrist again, twisting his arm behind his back before shoving him face first into the nearest wall, his ribs connecting with the hard surface made Reno see stars for a second as the pain shot through his body and only with effort he managed to keep himself on his own two feet. “Okay, fuck! If this is your way of showing me I should slow the fuck down it was a real dick move! Fine, I yield! And now let me go, for fucks sake!”

#;ivory-paragon #hello new friend! #I've been looking forward to interact with you! #let me know if this is okay #we can also plot via dm if you like! #;reno #;answered #these two fighting is so hot #sorry not sorry #me writing a short starter? #not gonna happen

[marie-dufresne]

This week’s Prompt Roulette night at Starbucks with @novahstrife! Enjoy these 20min ficlets once again 💖

This week was.....interesting.

Characters: Hojo & Rufus Prompt: Star Crossed Lovers

It was acceptable for the young Lord Rufus ShinRa to frequent the brothels and the bordellos. It was fashionable for him to take a mistress. Even if he were to take a young man as a lover, none would question someone of his status. Even his father, as against such relations as he was, would look the other way as long as he married and produced an heir of his own someday.

What was not acceptable in any way, shape, or form, was to fraternize with anyone society deemed outside of their own realm, an oddity, or disgraceful.

Naturally Rufus opted to engage in an affaire with someone who ticked all three marks on the list.

Edmund Hojo was a scandal from birth. His mother had been disgraced when she left polite society in favor of a foreigner. She married in direct retaliation of the culture that had raised her, and when she bore a son, she returned to that culture to show him off.

Rufus had heard the cautionary tale of Philomena Croft and while his female peers followed the advice and warnings to the letter, he found himself admiring the woman.

When she had the audacity to show up to his father’s ball uninvited bearing her husband’s name, her son on her arm, Rufus nearly choked on the breath that caught in his throat. The disdain Edmund Hojo wore on his face matched the sentiments Rufus was not permitted to show.

He was not discreet about initiating conversation. Edmund fancied himself a scientist, a doctor even, and when he mentioned his work on cadavers, a direct test of his company, Rufus didn’t blink. When he further suggested working on the living, Rufus invited him into a private salon for a drink.

Beyond his birth, Edmund proved himself to be a difficulty for society. His mother was immune to gossip columns or those who chose to shun her, securing her place instead with Artemis ShinRa himself who had little moral ground to stand on, and thus securing her place in society forever, for no one dared question the great Lord ShinRa.

Rufus was not lord yet, his title nothing more than a courtesy, a nod to the man he would later become, so his choices were far more scrutinized.

When it came out that Edmund had experimented on addicts of the slums, discovering the effects of the junk they stuffed into their pipes on a cellular level, he was deemed mad.

Well, the papers accused him of murder but, to each his own opinion.

Associating with a madman was a bit much even for someone of Rufus’ standing, but the blond couldn’t help himself. He was entranced by the idea of the unholy nature of Hojo’s hobbies and laying strapped into a leather chair in the doctor’s laboratory, Rufus closed his eyes, listening to the steam powered machine that pulled his blood out of one arm, and inserted the blood of a supposed vampire into the other.

“If you are successful and I become immortal, I’ll make you immortal as well. We can rule this world side by side.”

At twenty six, Hojo gave a little snort. “I’m happy being your little dungeon secret.”

Rufus cracked a small grin. He supposed he liked him being a little dungeon secret too.

Characters: Marie & Cloud Prompt: Enemies to Lovers

It had been so easy to hate each other.

Well, it had been easy for Cloud to dislike her, not to trust her.

It had been easy for Marie to cry every time she approached him.

She had been inside the ShinRa building when it fell, the chaos of meteorfall destroying the city she had adored so much her whole life. She hadn’t made it out, nor had she been crushed, the debris giving her and several other ShinRa employees a small cavern in which to live on a vending machine of snacks and beverages before a rescue operation had saved them.

It was Rude that pulled her from the wreckage, and Marie had never been held as tightly as the silent TURK held her when he found her alive. She’d been the secretary of the Department of Administrative Research for several years. She’d watched as the department whittled down to the bare bones it was now. They barely even needed her.

Tseng had kept her on for convenience, and force of habit.

When she had left the city, not ready to face the destruction head on, the TURKs did not take them with her, though Tseng gave her more than enough pocket money to start a life for herself elsewhere and a phone to contact should they need her again. She traveled a bit, feeling useless and adrift, and when the town she was staying in was left in shambles, attacked by monsters and set aflame by its panicked citizens, she was alone.

It wasn’t time to move on this time. She stayed, she cried, she built a funeral pyre for the dead.

Then he was there.

Cloud. Strife.

She knew his name, it haunted her dreams. He was responsible for the loss of everything she held dear. He had almost killed Reno after the plate had so tragically fallen on Sector Seven. Marie would never forgive him for such brutality.

Or so she had thought.

She’d always been a compassionate woman, so when the blond man had hobbled into her one woman town, collapsing by what had been a water fountain, she couldn’t find it in herself to leave him to die.

She also wasn’t strong enough to carry him into the home she had taken up residence in, so she built a lean-to around him. It took some practice. A few pieces of lumber had barely missed his head when they fell from her wobbly structure.

When he was strong enough to stand, he made an effort to leave, but she didn’t let him,

“You took everything from me,” she told him, standing there in a torn apron, hands on her hips, her hair set in a wild braid, “you don’t get to just walk away.”

She was ShinRa. He knew her face. She’d been present at Tseng’s side at more than one encounter with the TURKs. At the side of a man like that, she wasn’t just some dumb little girl.

“I’m fine,” he said, ignoring her anger and walking away.

Marie wasn’t a violent woman, but after months of agony and grief that she had held in, she couldn’t help herself. She kicked him behind his knee and he collapsed.

“You aren’t leaving,” she repeated, holding out her hand to him, all dusty and bewildered on the ground, “until you’re actually healthy enough to do so.”

He listened. He didn’t want to, but he was tired, hungry, and so far she hadn’t killed him.

When she asked about the black rash on his arm, he didn’t answer. The truth was, he didn’t know yet. .

When his phone rang, he didn’t answer, and when she asked who was calling, he didn’t say.

He didn’t even check.

She turned out to be a pretty good cook even though she claimed not to be, and when after a few weeks, when finally he could sit up again, even though she stood beside the bed hopping and clapping for him, he wondered if he really wanted to go.

Here, in this desolate place…there was no one he could fail. It was just her. Just Marie.

He’d already ruined her life. What more could he possibly do?  

His hand reached out for hers and he expected her to laugh him off or slap him in the face, but she didn’t. She took it, she sat next to him on the bed.

She held him.

He didn’t deserve it, but she held him, and he felt a moment of peace.

“I can’t stay,” he rasped, “I have things to do.”

She nodded into his neck. Of course.

“Thank you for staying,” she whispered, “I’ve been so alone.”

Characters: Marie & Vincent Prompt: Reversed Roles

It wasn’t as grotesque as he had imagined it would be. When Tseng had put Vincent on a retrieval mission at the old ShinRa Mansion on behalf of the science department, he had expected more roadblocks. More…creepy crawlies.

He did find a key. It was an interesting looking key and he pocketed it, thinking to add it to a collection he gathered of finds on the job, but when he came across a door that looked just as fascinating as the key, he wondered if they were companions.

As it turned out, they were. With the document disc retrieved as ordered, he pushed the door open, allowing himself for a little exploration before he made his way back to the inn, then home to Midgar.

He was met by a room of coffins and lowered his weapon, crimson eyes surveying the room for a moment. Nothing to see here, he supposed. An old family crypt, perhaps. There wasn’t much interest he had in a bunch of dead ShinRas, but before he turned to leave, he felt an interesting energy coming from one of them.

Against his better judgement, he lifted the top of it, his gaze met with the sleeping form of a young woman. If she hadn’t been dressed in rags and bizzare golden armor, he would have pegged her for a fairy tale princess.

He might have kissed her to awaken her.

But Vincent Valentine was young and awkward with women still, so he did not kiss her.

He didn’t have to, as she stirred and muttered a bit before one of her clawed hands came to grip the edge of the coffin, sitting up and raising her hands up, stretching as she yawned. Frozen in confusion, he was still holding the top of her sleeping place open.

When finally she became aware of her surroundings, she took his arm in her golden clad hand, gripping him with a fierceness no woman of her size should possess.

“Who are you and why do I want to rip your throat out?”

The saccharine innocence of her tone clashed against the violence of her words and he stepped back, the coffin cover crashing down as he did. He aimed his weapon at her. He wasn’t afraid to kill a woman. Or a thing disguised as a woman.

The lid didn’t crush her. In fact, it barely hit the matted curls nested atop her head before her arm snapped up, deflecting it and sending it flying across the room.

He shot her.

Once. Twice. Three times. He was right to be on alert here.

“Oh will you stop that?” she asked, little more than irritation in her voice, struggling to climb out of her prison, catching on her impossibly pointy shoes.

“What even are these?”

Was she even speaking to him? He didn’t shoot her again, but stood, guarded and armed. Ready to make another attempt on her life. This might require magic.

She was looking at her shoes, making little annoyed sounds when she couldn’t grip them properly with her gauntlet.

“I am not going to kill him,” she hissed and Vincent wasn’t entirely sure who she was talking to, “just…just be quiet for a minute. I need to figure out what psychotic game of dress up I think I’m playing.”

When she stood, it was awkward and she twisted this way and that, observing the way she was dressed. “Oh this is awful,” she sighed, taking the ragged cloak between two of her fingers and dropping it with a look of disgust. When her eyes caught sight of said fingers, she cried out again. How horrifying! Her fingernails, always so perfectly manicured, were grown into unrecognizable body parts. Like a crusty old Halloween witch!

Her chest began to rise with panic. How…how did she get this way? Who was the last per—

Hojo.

With her claws to her chest, she gasped, and Vincent lowered his gun. This woman was probably more of a danger to herself than to him. He’d have to bring her back with him. The department could decide what to do with her.

“He shot me!” “I shot you three times,” he corrected, “and you’re fine.”

“No,” she pressed, throwing her ‘hands’ out in front of her, making a ‘stop’ motion at the ground. “Professor Hojo shot me.”

Ah. Vincent placed his gun in his holster. That made this entire situation very very clear.

“He shot me and then he—“

With another horrified, overly feminine gasp, she threw her gauntlet over her mouth, grey eyes wide as the realization of truth washed over her.

Marie Dufresne, former Science Department Secretary and Deepground Office Assistant, had been murdered.

She had been murdered, and then Hojosynthesized.

Characters: Hojo & Reno Prompt: Vampire AU

After his success in turning the young lord Rufus ShinRa into a vampire, Hojo took it upon himself (with the help of his generous benefactor) to perform the process again and again and again and again.

These little bloodsuckers did not see the freedom that Rufus did, but there were some specimens that were hand picked by the Duke (now that he’d done away with his father) that served as…bodyguards.

Supernatural bodyguards.

They were so much more than that. The general public didn’t know the truth, as Hojo had kept his word, remaining a little dungeon secret, but Rufus fully intended to rule the world with his powers, and those who shared it.

He was at the top of it all, having done away with any of those he had not created, and having absolute fidelity from those he had.

One of his newest was…having difficulty adjusting.

With fiery red hair, the newest member of their court threw himself at the iron bars of his captivity, snarling at the doctor who leaned back in his chair, observing.

“Come over here you little fuck!” He cried, clawed hand reaching out for the doctor’s throat, “I’m gonna tear you to pieces! I’ll rip out your throat and eat and eat and eat and eat!”

Edmund Hojo raised a thin brow, chuckling a little.

“There would be no sense in eating me, Reno,” he said, “I don’t have what you need.”

“Then I’ll do it for fun!”

He was on the bars now, like a spider on the side of a wall, arm outstretched and grasping. This one was far more agile than the last one had been. Rude had proved to be an excellent specimen. A silent, obedient killer.

Reno required…training.

At this stage of the training, blood deprivation was intended to put him in his place, starving him into submission. It was going about as well as Hojo anticipated.

“There are plenty of feasts to be had in the name of fun, but I am not one of them.”

“Shut up!”

The bars rattled with his ferocity. Thusfar he was the only one who had been able to move the iron from where it was cemented into the dungeon floor and had been for centuries. Hojo made a note to upgrade the cell security. Even if this one failed, there may be others that were born stronger.

“You are wasting your energy threatening me,” the doctor sighed, standing and bending to jot down a few notes on the notepad on his desk, “you are not ready to be released into society.”

With a growl, Reno thrashed against the bars again.

“Fuck your society! Fuck ‘em all!”

Hojo smiled. Yes, that was his idea as well.

#I really struggled with the Cloud one. like a lot. #though I was cackling my whole way through Marie's very Kuzco-esque situation with Vincent #final fantasy 7 #ffvii #Rufus Shinra #final fantasy fanfiction #ff7 #ff7 hojo #ff7 reno #reno of the turks #vincent valentine

[infractedink]

Rufus Shinra Tag Drop

#Reflection: Rufus Shinra #Thread: Rufus Shinra #Save/Crack: Rufus Shinra #Starter/Plotting Call: Rufus Shinra #General: Rufus Shinra #Headcanon: Rufus Shinra #About/Musings: Rufus Shinra #Aesthetic: Rufus Shinra

[multi-fandom-imagine]

The SOLDIER and The Baker || Cloud Strife || Pt6

Part 1 || Part 2. || Part 3 || Part 4. || Part 5.

A/n: Oh boy oh boy...do I apologize this took me for ever. and this is another short chapter but I really wanted to put something out.

The next part is going to be much longer since it is going to have all the action...like the Train scene { though I am going to be changing a lot }

The scene with the Pillar not dropping thanks to the votes with the reader preventing it from happening.

and the Reader sharing moments with Rufus along with her father and Cloud realizing his own feelings after he speaks with Tifa

Falling....it was a rather odd feeling, everything felt slow even though everything was rushing past you. 

Was how you were going to die?

Squeezing your eyes tightly shut you braced for the impact of the ground, you waited for the inevitable and as you did so you missed a bright light engulfing you and the others as everything went black.

--

When Cloud woke up the first thing he felt was a dull ache in the back of his head. Feeling a tightness in his chest he pushed through the pain as he finally got a barrings of his surroundings. “Sewers....wonderful” Now standing, his eyes adjusted to what little light their was. Eye’s going wide for a moment he spotted Tifa, Aerith...then finally you. From his position he could see something on your face.

Not thinking he rushed off to your side as his fingers moved to the nape of your neck. Letting out a breath of relief he was happy to feel a slight pulse under his finger tips. Holding you close he frowned looking for any injury but the only thing he noticed was some bleed leaking from your nose.Gritting his teeth he used his gloved hand to wipe the blood away from your nose.

Groaning, you stirred in the mans arms. Your eyes slowly opening, feeling a wave of nausea hit you, you waited for it to pass.

“You alright?”

Blinking a few times you glanced up noticing that Cloud was holding you. Fighting back a blush, you managed to give the man a weak smile. “I’m alright.”

Letting Cloud help you to your feet you glanced over spotting Tifa help Aerith stand, the woman’s hand lingering on hers for a moment.

“God it smell’s horrible down here.” The ringing in your ears didn’t help at all either.

“Cloud....we have to get back to the slums right now.” Tifa stepped closer to you both though she suddenly frowned as she looked over at you and Aerith. “But I don’t want to drag you in on this y/n....or you Aerith.”

“Tifa....it’s okay...we already agreed to help you.” You have the young woman a bright smile as Aerith quickly nodded her head. 

“That’s right....you’re not gonna get rid of us that easily.”

Sighing, you turned to your friend, your hands grabbing Aerith as Tifa pulled Cloud aside.

“How do you three know each other?”

“After I saved her...Aerith she took me to meet y/n...she’s a baker and Aerith thought I’d like something sweet....one thing lead to another...it’s just complicated.” Cloud rubbed the back of his head.

Tifa glanced at him, she was still trying to wrap her head around it all.”Is that all?...you know Cloud it’s alright if you like her....everyone deserves a little happiness.”

“Right.” Tifa deserved happiness, so did you and Aerith but him, no he didn’t think he did. “Can we just talk about this later.” Waving the woman off he glanced over to see you and Aerith peering out of a large hall.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Tifa rolled her eyes. “You’re....hmp fine but we are going to talk about this later.” Rushing over to where you are, she gave you a smile. “Good thinking, all the sectors will be connected and if you’re lost then smell the air and follow the stench.”

“I’d rather be smelling y/n cookies.”

Laughing you glanced back at Aerith, giving her a smile you let your hands clasp behind your back. “Well how about this! Once we save everyone...I’ll bake everyone’s favorite dessert.”

Aerith let out a small squeal as she grasped onto Tifa’s hand. “Oh! you have to try her cookies! Y/n is an amazing baker.”

Laughing you shook your head feeling your cheeks grow warm, that was Aerith for you. “Well lets stop talking about me and just focus on getting out of here.”Feeling your chest tighten you continued to walk down the pathway, ignoring the rubble on the ground.

“So there should be a big waterway just up ahead, we should get to or find that first.” 

Frowning you nearly stumbled over a stone, if it wasn’t for Cloud catching you, you were positive that you would have cracked your head open. “Oh...thank you.”

Cloud cleared out his throat then turned his head away as he held out his hand for you to take. “Here, take my hand...it’s dark and I rather you not trip.” he states.

Smiling softly you grasped his hand enjoying the warmth. “Thank you Cloud” Biting your lip you two continued on your path as Aerith and Tifa chatted behind you though your body tensed when you heard the name Shinra.

“He want’s power....he is a horrible man....I..I used to be friends with his son Rufu’s then ....well memory has been a little fuzzy.”

Feeling Cloud squeeze your hand you did your best not to look at him as your heart pounded in your chest, you could’t wait to get out of this darkness.

#cloud #cloud strife #Final Fantasy #final fantasy vii #Final Fantasy 7 #final fantasy crisis core #Final Fantasy Advent Children #final fantasy 7 remake #final fantasy vii femake #cloud x reader #cloud strife x reader #female reader #reader insert #mini series #one shot #one shots #aerith x tifa #tifa lockhart #Aerith Gainsborough #ff7 #ff vii remake #FF VII

[azure-steel]

@ivory-paragon​ asked:

A small package is placed on Cloud’s carpenter workbench, amongst the shavings of wood and other unfinished projects.

Delivery Request:

You’ll see in the envelope that a few photographs of my faithful dog have been added. I request a wooden replica of her from your chosen craft you have cultivated. The payment will be handsome. If you so choose to accept this commission, I’ll personally visit to receive it.

- 𝑅𝓊𝒻𝓊𝓈 𝒮𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑅𝒶.

Unprompted Asks - ALWAYS ACCEPTING

It was no real secret that Cloud had developed a taste for carpentry; a hobby he’d began to cultivate after the construction of the new Seventh Heaven situated in the heart of Edge City. It just so happened the former mercinary-come-SOLDIER wannabe was exceptionally skilled with his hands.  

What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was that knowledge of his (in Cloud’s honest opinion) meagre skills would reach one Rufus ShinRa. He didn’t particularly like the man - then again Cloud didn’t particularly like anyone, he was, indeed, a man who liked to keep himself mostly to himself - so of course he was apprehensive about taking on this new project presented to him in the form of a carefully wrapped parcel containing images of Rufus’ pet. 

A hideous creature, this dog, he’d always thought the animal a little unbecoming of a man of Rufus’ supposed stature, and Cloud thumbs through the pictures with a grimace tugging at each corner of his mouth. The drive to merely decline the work ghosts into his mind at least twice, he certainly wasn’t interested in ShinRa’s money, that was for damn sure. 

In fact, Strife isn’t entirely certain what gave him the inspiration to go through with it, but before he knew it the vague shape of the hound was carved into his chosen piece of timber salvaged from discarded beams surplus to requirement from the bars initial construction. The wood was of good condition and with a little polish and shine there was no reason to believe that he couldn’t make a decent job of it. He quite enjoyed it actually, watching the creature take shape in his hands as he shaves away the excess, he couldn’t quite remember the last time he had lost himself into a job quite like this.  For three days he’d worked tirelessly, making sure it looked perfect, in his own eyes anyway. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder after all, and the references gifted to him were of a rather ugly animal, at least in Cloud’s opinion. 

But then, disaster strikes and the wooden dog develops a fatal split running across the centre of its head. An injury that could not be healed this late into the project. To say that Cloud was heartbroken about having to potentially start from scratch was an understatement. He sulks for a while, as one does, close to just throwing in the towel until he’s hit with an epiphany, sure fire to save the ailing project he’d started three days prior; all it would take was a little resin, some clever placement of holes in the base of the statue and a little more time.  

Also, not common knowledge to most, but this delivery boy also honed a little skill in electronics, all thanks to his interests in two wheeled vehicles and their maintenance. 

The creature would glow a brilliant ice blue upon completion along that once mortal crack and some extra carving served to make it look like it was breathing a strange fire from its open maw. 

The perfect guardian for any desk, he was certain of it. 

The letter penned for Rufus to collect his commission is delivered into Reno’s hands, a common patron to Tifa’s bar:

- Rufus.

The commission you requested is ready for collection.  I was forced to take some artistic liberties which I’ll explain to you upon collection. 

Regards - 

#ivoryparagon #{what do you want? - asks} #answered #I had this in my inbox for AGES #I'm so sorry it took so long

[im-totally-not-an-alien]

Final Fantasy 7 prompts no 50 (!!!)

1. Cloud died on the mountain when he was young, but his mother refused to except his death. Instead, she lights a candle in the front window of her home every night, praying for the gods to return her little boy to her.

When Sephiroth and Zack arrive she begged for them to look for her little boy while they were on the mountain, to bring him home...even if it's just his bones.

They hesitantly accepted.

Cloud, as a ghost, appears to them and throws snowballs at them. The pair, ignorant about how long the boy had been missing, immediately attack to capture him, but he seems to disappear behind trees and rocks.

They kept losing him and they stayed with mama Strife for the night. The process repeats day after day.

She eventually starts mothering Sephiroth and they start filling the voids in each other's hearts, until one day the boy came to Zack and Sephiroth, thanked them, asked them to take care of his mom, and them faded away right before their eyes.

2. Both Zack and Cloud survived on the the Midgar cliffs, but where captured by the Turks and brought to Rufus to serve as his personal bodyguards.

Its clear that Rufus has other intentions for them, but Zack doesn't have a clue what they could be.

Cloud has an idea, since a lot of monsters have been escaping from the science department lately...

3. Sephiroth and Cloud are Soulmates.

Cloud thought soulmates were overrated and that he wasn't good enough for the general, not to mention he didn't really know anything about him.

Sephiroth, however, is almost obsessed with Cloud, and the idea of a fated love.

Genesis thinks its hilarious...for the first two weeks, afterwards its really annoying and the paperwork from the "romance incidents" started piling up, prompting Genesis to try teaching the Silver General to flirt, and when that failed he began pulling different people into the fiasco, making more and more of a mess until Strife finally surrenders and goes on a picnic near Kalm with his soulmate...and actually enjoys it now that he wasn't feeling forced and suffocated by everyone's expectations.

4. Sephiroth peering into Clouds shattered memories cause he has nothing better to do while being trapped in the lifestream.

5. Chocobos rescue Zack and comatose Cloud while they were running from Shinra, and accepted them as honorary Chocobos...though that might've been because of their hair...

6. AC cloud wakes up lying on the ground near a river with the General leaning over him. He scrambled into a salute, even while laying on the ground, "General, sir!"

Sephiroth peered at him, as though inspecting him. "At ease SOLDIER."

The blond looked dumbfounded for a moment before looking down at himself and making a small noise of surprise.

He was soaked and his chest and throat ached fiercely, but he was in a modified SOLDIER uniform. He was a SOLDIER!? When had that happened?!

Sephiroth, however, had already put together that Cloud had amnesia, and decided he was going to milk it for all it was worth. Besides, he deserved it for preforming CPR on his precious puppet and saving his life.

He basks in the glow of Reunion, thinking this is how it's supposed to be when he notices Cloud obeying every order he makes without question or hesitation, they fight together fluidly, destroying any monsters or towns they come across. Not once do Clouds memories threaten to come back, instead, his hold over his puppet only grows with time.

What people don't seem to realize is that Sephiroth was raised in the art of war, thus he was a genius strategist and could be ruthless and manipulative when he wished. He disposed of the blonds former friends one by one before they even had a chance to interfere. Starting with the fistfighter.

7. Time traveler Cloud becoming Midgars local cryptic.

8. Alternative reality Cloud walked into a W.R.O. meeting room but instead of seeing Reeve when he looked up he saw a bunch of glowing SOLDIER eyes staring at him. Worse, one pair belonged to Sephiroth.

Fuck.

He stared at the rooms occupants and they stared back, before the aforementioned silverette softly asked, "Cloud? Is that...really you?"

Cloud took a deep breath, turned around and walked right back out the door, deciding there wasn't enough coffee in the world to make him deal with this mess. It could be someone else's problem.

Sadly, the portal to that other world remained open, even after he heard the whoosh of the automatic door behind him.

8. A very confused Witcher hunting a very confused Cloud

Crack and angst. Crangst? Is that a thing?

It is now.

9. Clouds abilities interfered with Shelkes, causing both of them to be bodily transported into Cyberspace...and 10 years into the past.

The problem is that they can't get out. Shelke seems hesitant at first, but admits there's a reason the doesn't stay in her net dives for too long. Prolonged exposure can cause mental and emotional degradation, essentially robbing them of their sanity and eventually rendering them braindead.

Now their only hope is to contact someone in through technology, which thanks to their powers still interfering with eachothers, comes off as glitches in machinery and poltergeist activities. How will they get help in time?

10. Merman Cloud saving AVALANCHE in Junon after Merc. Zack had saved him in Midgar and released him into the ocean the first chance they got.

11. A heavily medicated Sephiroth overhears Time traveler Cloud admit that he was created using Cloud and Sephiroths DNA.

Sephiroth bursts in like, "You're my son?!"

"Oh, gods no." The blond muttered, mortified. He wasn't even given the chance to react beyond that before the general scooped him up and ran out the door, proudly proclaiming Strife to be his son and holding him in the air for all to see, all the while he kept muttering, "nonononono" and was powerless to do anything thanks to the combined efforts of shock and the Generals sheer joy emanating through his j cells.

"Congratulations General." A SOLDIER 2nd said calmly. Strife died a little inside as Kunsel snapped a photo

Later, a copy of the photo was blown up and the image of Sephiroth holding Strife helpless in the air was on display in the mess hall for all to see.

An anonymous letter was also sent to Hojo, congratulating him on his grandchild.

The scientists enraged screams could be heard even six floors down

12. Barret and Tifa where digging through the abandoned remains of the new Nebilheim, only to come across an underground series of chambers containing the slightly burnt items belonging to the villiagers before the massacre.

The brawny gunman brought the items belonging to child Cloud and his late mother to the blond, expecting a small thanks.

He wasn't expecting Cloud to break down over a picture of his mother, or to sob into his chest. He softly patted the former merc as he cried. Barret had no idea what to do with a rainy Cloud.

13. Some idiot left Cloud and Yuffie in charge of the boat.

When Cloud found the note he was livid. What kind of brainless morons left the two people with intense sea sickness alone on a boat?! What were they supposed to do if intruders arrive? Groan at them and hope they take pity?

14. Cloud never thought he'd be so grateful to see Sephiroth calmly walking towards him with his sword drawn

15. So, it turns out Genesis can use magic as a frog.

#cloud strife #sephiroth #ff7 #sefikura #zack fair #sephiroth+x+cloud #final fantasy 7 story prompts #final fantasy story prompts #prompts #genesis rhapsodos

[chocobonugget]

Fragile Tender Heart

Title: Fragile Tender Heart Rating: T Word Count: 8,061 Summary: Once upon a time, there was a prince with a teddy bear.  And then, there was neither a prince nor a bear.  The story of how a newborn chocobo nugget transforms into a beautiful gentlethem.

-1- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

The first time Yuffie holds her baby, she's exhausted, bathed in sweat, but she's still the most beautiful thing Cloud has ever seen.  She's glowing, eyes bright and mirthful as ever despite their baby's painful, intensely arduous journey into the world.  He smiles at her as the midwife counts the correct number of digits on hands and feet that are so unbelievably tiny and fragile.  Cloud leans over and kisses her forehead, running his fingers through dark hair wet with perspiration, and he mutters something about how proud he is of her, how amazing she is, how much he loves her.

Yuffie just grins as the midwife takes the infant once again, to tend to him and making sure the rest of him is as healthy as his lungs and vocal cords seem to be, and she's clearly delirious with exhaustion when she laughs breathlessly and says, "Cloud, we did it.  We made a chocobo nugget."

-2- "Mama's yukata is pwetty," Yuki says, squirming around in his lap.

"It is," he whispers, tapping at his son's mouth with an index finger, "but we have to be quiet until she finishes her speech.  It's very important, and we don't want her to mess up."

It's not exactly fair to ask a three year old to sit completely still as his mother announces the newly-made agreement between her country and the reformed, rebuilt Shinra Company.  It likely won't go over well, but she is the Empress, Her Imperial Majesty, the Daughter of Leviathan, and her people trust her not to let their home be ravaged by senseless war ever again.  She says as much to them, reminding them that she has been actively in the fray since she was sixteen years old and has aimed to restore her country to its former glory since the war with Shinra ended.  She loves and respects her father, she tells them, but she would rather die than allow her people's culture to be reduced and trivialized, to once again let an oppressor overtake them and turn their precious traditions into a show for tourists.  

She makes a hell of an argument, and Cloud is quite proud of her for acknowledging Wutai's righteous anger at Shinra.  She doesn’t dismiss their obvious concerns about this partnership, and makes a point of assuring them, not only that she feels exactly the same, but also that she knows Rufus Shinra personally and can tell when he’s lying.  She tells them all the ways how she knows that he is serious about making peace between their two groups.  

(In another life, she once told him, she might have married him to establish this same bond with her people, and can you even imagine that, Cloud, how gross would that be, he's like, a million years old, eww.)

Near the end of her speech, she very casually says, "If Rufus violates our agreement, I reserve the right, in addition to enacting the fines and sanctions and other political punishments that I’ve already talked about, to cut his dick off—like, the whole entire thing!—and shove it down his throat."  And how can anyone can doubt her sincerity when she adds, "And then, I dunno, murder him or whatever"?

Yuki lets out a giggle, because he's never heard his mother threaten to kill anyone outside of a joke before and has no idea that, right now, she is completely serious.  Cloud cannot help but hope that his son does not inherit his mother's sense of humor.  "Daddy," Yuki says in the loud half-whisper so common to children his age, "I wanna be a empwess like Mama someday and wear pwetty yukatas."

Cloud hushes him again.  "You'll be the Emperor when you're all grown up, Yuki, don't worry."

-1.1- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

She's smiling at them as she gingerly lays the infant in Yuffie's arms, obviously proud of both herself and of her patients, and she adds, "He will make a fine Emperor, Lady Yuffie, I can already tell."

"You say that about every baby you deliver, Midori," Yuffie mutters, and Cloud is the tiniest bit impressed that she still has the energy to be sarcastic after the ordeal she's just been through.  "'He will make a fine priest, I can already tell.'  'She will make a fine wife, I can already tell.'  When I was born, you probably told my mother the exact same thing; 'She will make a fine Empress, Lady Kasumi, I can already tell.'"

The midwife grins, a sharp sparkle in her eye, and replies, "I told your honored mother, I said, 'She will be a right terror, this one, I can already tell.'  And I was right, wasn't I?"

"Hey, I didn't turn out so bad!  Helped save the world a few times, made a bunch of good friends, got a crap ton of gil and cool materia.  I even bagged myself a man without anyone's help, thank you very much."

"Well," the midwife murmurs, running her fingers over the few soft, black strands of hair that are already on the baby's head, "let's just hope this son of yours turns out to be more like his father, hmm?"

-3- It's somewhat common, he's been told, for little boys to go through a phase where they want to dress up in their mother's clothes.  So he's not worried when he finds Yuki in their closet, digging past Cloud's pants and shirts to get to his mother's things.

What does worry him is the make-up smeared inexpertly on Yuki's face and hands and how the boy is transferring it to anything close to him at an alarming rate.  Cloud snatches him up and pulls him away from Yuffie's more formal clothing before Yuki can christen it with the dark eyeshadow that makes his wife's eyes shine or the bright red lipstick she wears only when she's angry at or annoyed with her advisers.  The boy protests, letting out a shriek as Cloud methodically cleans him up before he can do anymore damage.  

Yuki squirms in his lap the whole time, small hands pulling at his father's arm and begging him to stop.  "You're ruining our clothes, Yuki; I have to get this stuff off of you."

"No!" he screeches, digging his tiny, sharp nails into the back of Cloud’s hands.  "No, I wanna be pwetty like mama!  Stop it!"

"Boys don't wear make-up, Yuki!" he scolds, and his voice is much louder than he intends it to be. 

And it's so strange because the wriggling mess of a child in his arms immediately goes still.  Yuki looks up at him, and while Cloud takes the lack of movement as an opportunity to finish cleaning the boy up, Yuki murmurs, "But I'm not a boy."

Cloud's immediate response is a distracted, "Of course you are," which causes a round of silence in addition to the stillness.  He manages to wipe off the last vestiges of make-up from the boy’s hands and face, working quickly before his son can start the wiggling and the protesting again.  But Yuki is still quiet when the work is done, and for a long moment, Cloud is haunted by a feeling of dread, knowing it was a mistake to negate his son's feelings right away like that.  He remembers people dismissing how he felt as a child.  He knows exactly how many scars he still carries from being told that how he felt was unimportant or wrong.

It’s important to him that he apologizes for yelling.  He never got that as a child, and he wants things to be different for his son.  He’s not perfect, but he doesn’t have to be.  He just has to be able to admit when he makes mistakes and do better next time.  

Yuki only shrugs, jumping up from his lap and bouncing toward the door.  "You're right, I am a boy."

Okay, wow, big sigh of relief for that.  It doesn't seem like his son is permanently harmed or anything.  He would have to be more careful about controlling his temper in the future, though.  Cloud never wants Yuki to feel like he couldn't talk to him about anything at all whenever he needed to.

"But," his son trills, elongating the vowel in the exact same way his mother does right before she attempts something mischievous, "maybe I'll be a girl tomorrow!"

Cloud shakes his head.  That's all it is, then.  A game.

Nothing to worry about, right? 

-4- The summer after Yuki turns 5, Cloud wins a teddy bear for him at a festival booth.  He calls it Nanko, despite his parents telling him that isn't a real name, and it immediately becomes his favorite toy.  He goes nowhere without it, and he's seen by the public with it so much that the bear soon becomes an unofficial member of the royal family.  That brand and style of teddy bear gains an immense popularity, and Yuffie cracks a joke one evening about her son being a fabulous trendsetter at such a young age.  "Just like his mother," she sighs, dropping a kiss onto Yuki's forehead.

The boy is sleepy, soft and pliable in her arms, and not really paying attention to anything.  He's fighting sleep like it's a master tonberry walking toward him with the intent to kill shining bright in its eyes, and Cloud can't help but smile.  "We should probably put him to bed."

A muffled protest issues from the vague area near Yuffie's lap that his son occupies, but they both dismiss it.  When he's tucked in, Nanko held tight in his arms, the boy is so adorable that Cloud has to take a picture.  He can't not do it.  He's physically incapable of not memorializing this moment in time, of not getting hard proof of how his child is quite possibly the cutest thing to ever exist.

As they are leaving the room, Yuki mumbles, "You didn't say night to Nanko."

"Good night, Nanko," Yuffie murmurs.  

"Daddy too...."

Cloud smiles.  "Good night, Nanko."

More content, his son curls on his side and snuggles into his bed, letting out a soft sigh.  "He says night too."

-1.2- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

Well, she's not technically wrong.

-5- A few days later at breakfast, Yuki says, "Nanko wants to eat chocolate chip pancakes!"

"Well, tell him we're out of pancake mix," Yuffie replies.

"Her."

"Hmm?"

"Nanko wants you to call her 'her'."

"Why?  I thought Nanko was a boy?"

"Nah," Yuki replies, holding the bear out in front of him and considering it very seriously.  "Nanko is a girl today."

-6- "Daddy!  You keep calling Nanko a girl!  Nanko is a boy, and he wants you to talk to him that way!  Why are you being so stupid about this?  When Nanko is a boy, you call him a boy, and when Nanko is a girl, you call her a girl!  Got it?!"

-1.3- "It's a boy," the midwife says triumphantly, the pride of helping to birth her country's next emperor clear on her smiling face.

(If only it were that simple.)

-7- "Don't ever let this thing out of your sight again," he tells Yuffie, presenting the newly-washed teddy bear to his wife.  Yuki lost it two weeks ago, and the level of agitation and worry that the boy has exhibited over the disappearance of his favorite toy is very unsettling.  He's been restless and inattentive, unable to sleep at night, and his emotions have been incredibly volatile.  At times, he's seemed withdrawn, given to very sudden bouts of anger or weeping, but nothing either of them does can console him.  Cloud had nearly been at his wit's end when he happened to catch a glimpse of the distinctive brown and tan plaid ribbon that was tied around the stuffed animal's neck sticking out from beneath a piece of furniture.  

"Absolutely not," she sighs, taking the bear from him.  "Come on, I think we'd better get these two back together as soon as possible.  Not sure I can take another night of having a wiggly chocobo nugget in my bed waking me up with another nightmare."

"I know," Cloud agrees, taking her hand.  "I feel bad that he's so upset, but it's getting exhausting to deal with him."

There's a long period of silence as they walk toward Yuki's suite, and just before they enter the hall that leads to his front room, Yuffie chuckles.  "You wanna take a bet on whether Nanko's a boy or girl today?"

-1.4- "It's a boy," the midwife says with a smile.

-8- When Yuki sees the bear, a grin splits his face wide open.  "Nanko, I missed you so much!  Mommy, where did you find her?"

-9- Years go by, and Cloud nearly forgets that his son's bear is still around.  It sits high on a shelf now, dusty and untouched for nearly a decade.  He tries to convince Yuki to get rid of it, but the boy refuses.  It's odd, isn't it, for a teenager to want to hang onto a childhood toy?

But if a little teddy bear is really that important to him, Cloud's not going to force him to get rid of it.

-10- The smell of smoke wakes him in the early hours of the morning.  Not immediately seeing the source as his eyes quickly scan the room for flames, he turns to wake his wife, only to find that she is already climbing out of bed and stumbling toward the Conformer.  It's the third time in as many months that they've been confronted with this scenario before, and each and every time, the culprits have attempted to torch a new section of the palace.  No one is exactly sure who is to blame or why they're doing it, as the preferred method thus far has been Molotov cocktails thrown through windows that have opened to let in the cool summer breeze at night.  They've since ordered all windows shut and locked at all times.

It forces the criminals' hands a bit, and this time, they actually have to break in to set the fire.  Fortunately, he and Yuffie catch them before they can make their retreat, two men and a woman dressed in all black like some kind of ridiculous play on the stereotypical ninja's garb.   Yuffie hands them over to the guards, bloodied from the beating they'd given them, and though she doesn't exactly cut an intimidating image in her silky pajama shorts and pink crop top, her shuriken and fists speak for her.  The fire is put out before it can seriously damage anything else, and everyone in the room save for the three people in custody breathe a collective sigh of relief.

But even still, the would-be arsonists don't seem entirely disappointed to have failed their self-appointed mission yet again or, for that matter, to have been caught.  The woman stares at him as he walks by, and he can't help but notice the smug grin on her face.  He pauses, considers her for a long moment, but before he can demand an explanation for her oddly good mood, he detects the faintest hint of smoke in the air once again.

A scream shatters the silence of the room.  One of the guards shouts, "The prince!"

By the time Cloud turns toward the long hallway leading to his son's suite of rooms, Yuffie is already halfway down it.  He catches up to her as she's reaching for the door handle, but even as her fingers are closing over the knob, he can tell the knob is burning hot.  She lets out a curse and yanks her hand away.  He tries to break the door down, but the wood has expanded with the heat of the flames he can hear raging behind it, and there's no use of trying to get in this way.  The only other option is to try and break through the window in his bedroom.

The idea occurs to them simultaneously, and while they run outside and around the enormous building to find the correct window, Cloud prays that they're not too late.  The smile on the woman's face is the only thing he can see clearly in his mind, and it does nothing to dampen the worry clouding his thoughts.  They arrive to see their son standing in front of the window, pounding at it to no avail.

"Move!" Yuffie screams, holding up her shuriken so he can see it.  "Yuki, get out of the way!"

The drapes beside him are suddenly ablaze, and although he hasn't moved at all--is probably too frightened to think clearly and without a safe place to get away from the fire--Yuffie launches her weapon at the panes of glass.

The next few minutes are all a blur.  Cloud grabs his son out of the broken window and runs with him thrown over his shoulder.  Someone hauls out an Ice materia and extinguishes the fire.  Yuki is crying, and when Cloud sits him back down, the boy screams in pain and falls to the ground.  It's only then that Cloud notices the burn on his foot and ankle.  Someone is there almost immediately with a Restore, and in the blink of an eye, most of the burn is gone.  A potion will take care of the rest of the wound, but later.

The guards have followed them outside, their prisoners in tow, and the woman starts cackling when she catches sight of the chaos before her.  "It's too bad," she yells.  "Even if nothing else, I had hoped we could exterminate the vermin from Leviathan's sacred household.  His own daughter has betrayed him!  She's contaminated herself by fucking a man who belongs to Shinra--" She pauses long enough to spit in Cloud's direction, "--and she had the audacity to taint the holy blood of her family by producing that half-breed spawn with him.  Lord Godo should have forced the vile thing from her belly before it drew its first breath!"

Cloud has seen Yuffie kill before.  He's seen her ruthlessly take down a horde of attacking monsters.  He's seen her defeat Shinra troops and members of DeepGround in battle like it's nothing.  The only context in which he's ever seen her take a life, however, is self-defense.  This is most assuredly not self-defense.  This is angry and rough and uncontrolled.  This is Yuffie screaming and grunting with the effort as her shuriken lands home again and again, ripping open flesh and tearing through viscera in an instant.  This is Yuffie not caring that her skin and clothing are covered in a sickening amount of blood and gore.

This is Yuffie taking pleasure in murder for the sake of revenge, and it's the most frightening thing he's ever seen in his life.  The only thing he can do is pull Yuki into his chest so he doesn't have to see it himself, cover his ears to block out the sound of metal ripping through clothing into warm flesh and flinging hot, red blood everywhere.  A few droplets land on Cloud's face and the back of Yuki's shirt.

Yuffie sinks to her knees with a grunt next to the woman's remains, and even at a distance, Cloud can see how much she’s shaking.  She throws the weapon away from her and barks out an execution order for the two men.  The guards only look at each other and shrug before complying, snapping the mens' necks in the practiced, efficient manner he remembers seeing so many officers in Public Security at Shinra trying to perfect.

They quickly survey the extent of the physical damage to the palace, and they find the body of a fourth accomplice in the corner of Yuki's bedroom.  The corpse is pinned to the wall by Yuki's sword, skin black and blistered from the fire. 

"He tried to suffocate me," the boy explains.  "I got away from him, but then he threw a bottle at the other wall and it caught on fire.  And I didn't know what else to do, so I just..."

"It's okay, Yuki," he says, running his hand over his hair and hugging him close.  "You had to protect yourself."

"I could have incapacitated him, though.  I didn't have to kill him.  I'm a ninja.  Ninja are trained to--"

"Sometimes, Yuki," he interrupts, "just sometimes, just once in a great while, it's kill or be killed.  They took that choice away from you when they trapped you like that.  Don't blame yourself."

First kills always weigh on the heart like a heavy stone, and Cloud could only hope that his son will recover well from this horrific event.  He is a strong kid, and Cloud is confident that he will eventually be alright.

Until, that is, Yuki discovers the charred remains of Nanko in a pile of debris that is taken from the room.

-11- "My Lady, I'm sorry," says Yuki's exasperated tutor, "but the Prince is acting very strangely during his lessons as of late.  He has become very argumentative, and the obvious effort he used to put into his work is gone now."

Yuffie sighs and glances over at Cloud.  "This is all your fault, you know.  He inherited your wild adolescent chocobo genes.  We'll have to chain him to a wall to make sure he doesn't try to join SOLDIER."

Cloud rolls his eyes.  "...she says, as if she didn't run away from home around this age and join an eco-terrorist group."

Yuffie shrugs.  "Whatever.  We'll talk to him."

And talk they do, several times when the issues never seem to be resolved, but they can't get down to the heart of the matter.  When they ask what has changed recently to cause him not to enjoy school anymore, he only shrugs.  "Dunno.  Just boring, I guess."

Over the course of the next three months, the apathy worsens, and eventually, Yuki becomes combative about going to school, insisting that he has been taught everything he could possibly need to know, refusing to go sit in a room and be talked at for hours on end, as he describes it.  One day, he even goes so far as to push his tutor out of the way when the man stands in front of the doorway, blocking the only exit that Yuki has.  He had run outside and up the mountain, the tutor tells them frantically, and if that's the case, then there's only one place he can possibly be.

Ever since he was a tiny child, Yuki has been fascinated with the cave at the top of Da-Chao.  He and Yuffie have told him the story of how a fire raged inside for hundreds of years, until they found the scales of Leviathan and extinguished the flames.  He has always been enthralled by the scorch marks on the stone walls, and he would often ask to be told the story over and over again.  Now, he hid in the very back of the cave and let his thoughts wander.  It helped calm him down, he would say, to give him a quiet place to think about his life and everything that happened to him.

So Cloud and Yuffie climb the mountain, and they do indeed find their son inside the cave.  He stands as soon as he sees them, asking, "Am I in trouble?"

"Why would you be in trouble?" Yuffie asks sarcastically, crossing her arms.  "You just assaulted someone.  No big deal, right?"

Cloud holds out his hand.  “You'll be in less trouble if you willingly come back down and finish your lessons today.”

He does, but his obvious restlessness about his education doesn't lessen at all.  His grades continue to hover barely above a passing mark, but nothing they do, no punishment, no encouragement or reward, no amount of time spent talking about why school has suddenly become so abhorrent to him or about what they could do to make it less so, makes the situation any less bleak.  One of them suggests moving him to a public school, where the presence of other children his age might help him out of his funk, and although Yuffie's advisers flip their collective shits about the decision, within a week he is enrolled and attending a school that's less than a ten minute walk from the palace.

The improvement in his grades is neither dramatic nor immediate, but when their son comes home with a smile most days and doesn't fight them every morning on whether or not he needs to get out of bed, it's well worth the adjustment.

-1.5- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

-12- Cloud suffers from the occasional sleepless night, and it's never really bothered him.  Most people take spells of insomnia, whether due to stress or illness or anything else, so it's not exactly abnormal.  Usually, he self-medicates with a glass or two of wine and a cake pop binge, but it's not helping at all tonight.  He's scared to pour a third glass, as he and Yuffie have an extremely important meeting in the morning and being hungover isn't the best idea when they're meeting with the leader of a rebel faction who could easily instigate his followers into a death-match against the Empress's army and win.  

What he decides to do in the end is watch television.  Wutai has some of the craziest programs he's ever seen, and at night, he can't say they get any less weird.  But if he's very lucky, which he is tonight, sometimes the wild and crazy bright-flashing-lights sort of game shows are foregone in favor of an eastern movie.  It's dubbed over, of course, but his wutai is more than strong enough by now that he doesn't have any trouble understanding the fast-paced sentences.  He does ponder over a few of the translation choices, but it's all a part of the late-night TV experience.

He's so deeply entrenched in his second movie that he doesn't really hear the door open.  Or rather, he does hear it but doesn't think anything of it.  It's not quite 4 in the morning, and that's around the time when the guards change shifts, so he's not worried.  If one of them forgot something in the house or simply wants to take a shortcut through the kitchen to get back home, he's not going to say anything.

The odd thing about it is...why aren't any of the other guards coming through the house?  There's never just one poking around during a shift change.  Usually it's all of them coming in at once, a dozen people exchanging information and gossip and news and anything and everything else.   Right now, Cloud can only hear one set of footsteps making their way very slowly and deliberately up the hallway, and that cannot be good.  Because from the way the sound reverberates, whoever this is is trying to sneak into...

Cloud jumps up as fast as he can and races back to his son's bedroom, the memory of the fire and of Yuki's injuries and his wife's bloodthirsty, determined face springing to mind.  He can't let anyone else hurt Yuki, he just can't, he can't lose anyone else ever again, not like last time, please Aerith please, please, please, just let Yuki be okay, let his son be okay--!

Yuki is fine.  He's covered in a mixture of body paint, sweat, and glitter, but he's okay.  He jumps when Cloud barges into the room, which is more than understandable considering he's in the middle of undressing and has exposed the hot pink lipstick smear someone has pressed to his stomach.  “Dad, stop it!” he hisses, yanking his shirt back over his chest and turning away very quickly.  “Just get out!”

He does, but there will be no letting anything he saw go without comment and explanation.  He waits for a bit and knocks at the door again.  “Yuki, I'm not leaving.”

After almost ten minutes, the door is finally opened for him.  Yuki is clean once again and has changed into his pajamas, but there's a distinct scent in the air that lingers on him.  Cloud can't quite figure out what it is.  He sits down beside the boy, intent on talking about why he found him sneaking back into his rooms at this time of night and where on Gaia he had been to get so filthy, but the stench knocks him over, takes his breath away.  All of a sudden, he's back in Nibelheim, 16 years old and watching helplessly from inside a body he can no longer control as he's dumped into a tank filled with mako and left to die.  He shakes the memory from his head, but the scent is still there and it's coming from Yuki.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Cloud notes.

Those dark eyes, exactly like his mother's, look away from him and roll.  “So?”

“So,” Cloud replies, worried and disgusted at the same time with a hint of anger roiling underneath his skin, “there's only one reason for that.”

“You're so clever, aren't you?”

“This is serious, Yuki!  How long have you been using mako?”

Recreational mako use was nothing new, but for obvious reasons, it was thought to be a thing of the past.  Apparently not.  Cloud couldn’t say he’d never done it himself as a teenager in Midgar, where tiny vials of the stuff could be purchased on nearly every street corner both above and below the Plate so long as there was no one from Public Security on patrol.  It gave the regular folks of the world a small taste of what it felt like to be a SOLDIER, a high that included temporarily enhanced senses and a ton of synthetic confidence.  It wore off fairly quickly, and first-time users were often left with nausea and a killer headache after they crashed.

Yuki didn’t seem to be exhibiting those symptoms, so Cloud could only assume it wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

Not much was known about the side effects of what was effectively a self-administered mako injection not dissimilar to the ones SOLDIERs received at Shinra.  They were much weaker, of course, but most off-label uses before this involved mixing other illegal substances with mako to enhance the high.  This stuff was diluted, sure, but it was still mako, straight from the Planet. Who the hell knew what this could do to a person’s body with prolonged exposure?

And his own son is shooting it into his veins, slowly destroying himself from the inside out.  Cloud is determined to put a stop to this even if that means locking Yuki away from the world until the storm has passed.  He will not let his son waste his life like this.  He will not take the chance that Yuki has inherited his susceptibility toward mako poisoning and could be only one high away from slipping into a coma, or worse.

Yuki shrugs, still looking away from him.  “Why do you even care?” 

“Maybe because I'm your father,” he replies, “and I don't want to see anything bad happen to you.”

His son scoffs.  “It was just a party, Dad.  Not a big deal.”

“No, it is a big deal,” he counters, taking hold of his son's shoulders and forcing Yuki to face him.  “Do you have any idea how dangerous mako is?  What it could do to you one day?  You're fourteen years old, Yuki; this stuff could kill you.”

Yuki still isn't meeting his eyes.  “Fuck you, okay?” he grunts, shaking himself out of Cloud's arms.  He stands up and takes a few steps away.  “I just wanted to feel like a normal kid for once in my life.”

Cloud ignores the swearing.  He can tell they are getting close to the root of the problem, and that's more important.  He'd said “normal kid”; is this about rebelling from the expectations and pressure put on him as the prince?  Yuffie's counselors and advisers are sometimes quite harsh with Yuki under the pretense of preparing him for inheriting the throne.  In reality, Cloud knows that at least some of it is due to the fact that he is half-eastern.  Yuki will be the first mixed-race emperor Wutai has ever seen, and none of the officials can really agree if the country is ready for him or not.  They themselves aren't ready for him, because most of them still cling so tightly to the traditional aristocrat's idea that non-Wutai are somehow beneath them, and that mixed blood is tainted.  

He remembers the speech one of the extremists gave the night Yuki was attacked, and although he hasn't heard anything of the sort with his own ears, he has heard rumors from some of the residential workers that certain of Yuffie's advisers had been disappointed that his son survived.  It's no secret that they all hate Cloud, but being unable to take it out on him directly, they poke, prod, question, and attempt to forcibly mold Yuki into the kind of ruler they want him to be, to make sure that his undesirable eastern heritage doesn't interfere with his ability to competently govern his people.

Cloud can't say he doesn't empathize.  “Normal kids don't do drugs, Yuki.”

The boy lets out a loud grunt, slamming his fists down on his desk.  His back is still turned to Cloud as he screams, “But normal kids know if they're a boy or girl!”

The silence that follows that statement is embarrassingly long, and it takes Cloud much longer than it should to understand what his son is saying, to parse the words and formulate an intelligent response.  A boy or a girl?  What in the world does gender have to do with anything?  His mouth is hanging open slightly, and he's peripherally aware of Yuki turning towards him and glaring at him, the sharp gaze falling heavy and intrusive on his skin as his son awaits some kind of response.  When he can form words, all Cloud can manage is, “So...you’re trans?”

Yuki's eyes drop, and his entire form goes slack as he sits down on top of his desk.  “Yeah?  No.  I don't know!”  A sigh escapes him, and when the boy looks back up at him, his dark eyes are shining with tears. “I don't know, okay?”

This is serious, but Cloud has absolutely no idea what he's supposed to do.  Comfort his son, of course, but beyond that?  No idea.  So he does the only thing he can think to do and hugs Yuki.  “Hey, nugget, it's okay,” he whispers into the boy's hair. “Don't cry, alright?  You don't have to have yourself figured out just yet.  Nobody's gonna pressure you to be anything you're not.  Just take some time and—”

“Everybody pressures me,” Yuki interrupts.  “Maybe you don't notice it, but I do!  Everybody calls me a guy, calls me the prince, or calls me your son, and sometimes it feels so wrong that I just want to punch them!  But then it's like...other times, I don't care, you know?  It feels okay to be called a boy.   But it makes me so frustrated, because where do I get off being angry at people when I don't even know what I am?”  

Cloud is completely out of his depth here, but he can't let it show.  He can't let his discomfort show, lest Yuki take it as a sign that his struggle is unfounded.  He can't let Yuki think that he's being rejected, that this moment of uncertainty is grounds for any amount of distrust or hatred from his parents.  Because it's just the opposite.  Right now more than ever, Yuki needs him, needs strength from his father to make it through this without breaking down, and he's not going to let his child suffer alone just because he's unsure of himself, unsure if he even can help, unsure if he'll only make things worse.  The pressure to be a perfect father was immense, but Yuki didn't need him to be perfect.  Yuki just needed him to be there, to hold him when he thinks the world's coming to an end, and to make sure he knows he's strong enough to come through it.

What he decides to do, when Yuki has mostly stopped crying, is to take to the worldwide network.  Cloud turns on the boy's laptop and opens up a browser page to the Moogle search engine.  He coaxes Yuki onto his lap and tells him to type and search, that they'd try to find an answer together.  And he does, and they spend hours there reading articles and watching videos and, most importantly, talking about what Yuki thinks about everything he's reading. 

Eventually they come across a page that lists a variety of different gender identities.  It begins with cisgender, which Yuki is vehemently sure he is not, and transgender, which they've already marked off the list as well.  Then there's non-binary, a term they'd encountered earlier that Yuki had taken a liking to.  As they read on, though, they discover the word genderqueer, and a few minutes later, genderfluid.

Yuki's eyes light up.  Cloud can almost feel how excited he is with every word he reads.  He gets through to the end of the paragraph and says, “That's it, Dad.  That's me.  It's—that's exactly what I feel like.”

“Okay,” Cloud replies, feeling incredibly relieved himself.  He can't even begin to imagine what his son feels like right now.  He's grinning ear to ear, and it's the most beautiful thing Cloud has ever seen.  “Genderfluid.  Alright.  Have you been thinking anymore about pronouns yet?  Not that you have to decide right now, but—”

“No, yeah, I think...I think I like 'they.'  Yeah.  'They' and 'them.'  That feels pretty good.”

Cloud nods, but before he can say anything else, before he can assure Yuki that changing his mind later is always an option if he needs to, Yuki's stomach growls audibly.  He can't help but laugh.  He's getting a little hungry himself.  Glancing at the clock, he notices that it's nearly 7am already.  “Hey, you know what we should do?  We should take my bike and go down to that 24-hour diner for breakfast.  Just you and me.”

Yuki's eyes glisten with mischievous pleasure.  He looks exactly like his mother.  “Mom will kill you when she finds out we went without her.”

He gives his child a wink.  “I won't tell if you won't.”

-1.6- "It's a boy."

-13- Although he does his best, it's hard at first to overwrite the part of his brain that thinks of his child as "he."  He's honestly pretty bad at remembering to use Yuki's pronouns in the beginning, but eventually he starts catching himself before the "he" can escape his mouth and replaces it with "they."  It's awkward at first, because every time he messes up, he can't help but think how hurt Yuki must be, can't help but cringe and hope that this mistake won't be the last straw for his child, the moment when they give up on ever being accepted by their own family.

A few months after the initial introduction of his child's preferred pronouns, he sits Yuki down after a particularly tense and silent dinner and apologizes.  "I know it's important, and I really am trying, I promise.  It's just hard sometimes."

Yuki nods, but he--no, they--won't look at him.  "Yeah."

"Are we still okay?" Cloud asks, putting an arm around his child's shoulders.

"...yeah."

"You don't sound too sure."

The silence hangs between them for a long time, which tells Cloud that, no, they're not still okay.  There's something else Yuki wants to get off their chest, and even though Cloud wants them both to clear the air about everything, the choice to speak up has to be Yuki's.  If not tonight, then maybe another day, but now that Cloud knows something is bothering them, he can't let it fester for very long.

Just as he's about to press a kiss to their forehead and tell them they don't have to talk right now, they whisper, "I miss Nanko, that's all."

Cloud pauses, uncertain of how to proceed.  The subject of Nanko is a touchy one, hard to maneuver without making Yuki intensely upset or viciously angry.  He tests the waters with, "Nanko was very important to you.  Makes sense you would miss them."

"I guess."

"But..." and he can only hope as he runs his fingers over his child's hair that this doesn't end badly, "...you don't need Nanko anymore, right?"

Yuki shrugs.  "Guess not."

"And if you hadn't lost them--"

"You used to make fun of Nanko."

There it is.  This is the source of Yuki's discomfort, and Cloud has been trying to work out what he would say about this subject for months now.  "I did," he answers, meeting their eyes even though it’s the last thing he wants to do.  He wants to say more, to explain everything and apologize again all at once, but he pauses to let Yuki finish expressing himself.  Themself.

"You and Mom used to make fun of them right in front of me.  And then you laughed when I got angry."

"Yes."

"You thought Nanko's gender stuff was a joke."

"I did."

"So...do you think I'm a joke too?"

Cloud's heart starts pounding.  He can't just say, "Oh no, of course not, Yuki!" and move on, because that won't help anything.  And pointing out that Cloud had been the one to help him find the terminology and the language with which he could express his gender identity, although strictly speaking the truth, is bound to only make things worse.  Cloud has done severely wrong by his child, and it's not something he can ever fix.  Unintentionally, he's left scars on Yuki's heart that will maybe fade over the years, but they will never go away.  He can only take ownership of his mistakes, admit them instead of dismissing Yuki's very valid fears and concerns, and focus on changing his behavior in the future.

So he hugs Yuki close, lays a kiss on their forehead, and says, "I'm sorry for the things I did and the way I acted when you were little.  There was no excuse for it.  If I could go back and change it, I would, Yuki, in a heartbeat.  But I can't.  Instead, all I can do is make sure I respect your identity from now on.  And I do.  I know that sexuality can be fluid; it only makes sense that gender can be too, and I wish I had realized that before.  You're not a joke, nugget.  Don't let anyone ever treat you like you are, especially not your mom or me.  All I ask is that you continue to be patient with us while we relearn how to think about you, and that you never, ever let us get away with misgendering you.  Because if we're allowed to, then your friends will think they are, too, and so will your teachers, and Mom's advisers, and the entire country.  You'll be in charge one day, and I don't want you to have to fight to be respected then.  So start fighting right now, and begin at home."

He can't quite see Yuki's face, but five minutes goes by very slowly as neither speak, and when they raise their head from his shoulder, there is a small damp spot in his shirt.  "Thanks, Dad," Yuki says.

"I love you, nugget," he responds, and although Yuki just nods on his--their--way out of the room, Cloud feels like a weight has been lifted off of him.  

He hopes Yuki feels it too.

-14- "So, I've been thinking, right?  About what my legal titles will be when I inherit the throne.  I need you and mom to go to bat for me with the advisers, because I'm not just a son of Leviathan, you know?  But it's too wordy to say 'sometimes a son, sometimes a daughter of Leviathan,' that's a crap title.  So this is what I came up with instead: 'Their Imperial Majesty, Kisaragi Yuki, Child of Leviathan, Sacred Ninja of Da-Chao, and Rightful Emprex of Wutai.'  Will they go for Emprex, you think?  I mean, I could use 'Ruler' instead, but I kind of like the sound of Emprex.  It was a pain in the ass to get them to call me Heir, and I guess I'm willing to compromise about Emprex, but at the same time, I should get the final say, right?  It'll be my country, and it's my title.  Why can't they just use gender-neutral language all the time, anyway?  Wouldn't it make things so much simpler in the long run?"

-1.7- "It's a boy."

No.

Yuki is a healthy newborn, perfect and tiny and the most beautiful thing on the Planet, and that's all that Cloud has ever asked for.  Son or daughter, neither or both--it doesn't matter.  They are his child, and he will love them with everything in his entire being until the day he dies.

-15- For their 17th birthday, Cloud buys Yuki a teddy bear.  Well, he can't actually go out and make the purchase himself, because his health doesn't allow it, but he commissions Yuki's bodyguard Jun to do it, gives her explicit instructions on what he wants, and tells her not to bother with anything that isn't perfect.  In the end, she can't find anything to suit his specifications, and so he calls Tifa, still living in Edge, to see if she can help him.  He can hear her smile when he tells her what he wants, and she lets him know that a specialty shop recently opened in town that lets people custom-build a stuffed animal.  As long as she can find the right kind of ribbon, it should be relatively simple.

The finished product arrives two days before the party.  Cloud opens the box to inspect its contents, and he hasn't been this happy in months.  He undoes the ribbon around the bear's neck, attaching the small charm he bought weeks ago, and ties it back.

It's perfect.

Later on that night, after the main part of the party is over, after the food has been eaten, after the advisers and counselors and public officials and other Important People of Wutai have offered up (as Yuki calls it) their “politically-correct, ass-kissing gifts”, the Imperial family has their own celebration.  Cloud has managed, with some help from Yuffie, to get up from his wheelchair and have a seat next to his child.  The nurse assigned to him for the day protests, but he waves her concerns off.  Yuki looks happy to see him up and about, but there's a certain sadness behind it.  Everyone in this room knows it's only a matter of time before he dies, but none of them are willing to admit it.  

His doctors tell him that he shouldn't give up fighting, but he knows he won't make it to Yuki's next birthday, so he has to make this one count.

He saves his gift for last, and the emotion that crosses Yuki's face as they unwrap it gives him chills.  Tears well up in their eyes as they grip the teddy bear in their hands.  Cloud puts an arm around his child, and they melt into his side, unable to control their emotions.

The bear is as identical to Nanko as possible, with one change.  The ribbon around the bear's neck is now a color gradient, rather than the neutral-palette plaid of the original.  The colors might not seem significant—pink fading into purple merging into blue—but Yuki immediately understands.  And the charm Cloud has attached to the ribbon is unique as well: an emblem that blended the stereotypical male and female symbols with an infinity sign.  

When Yuki is nearly composed again, Cloud asks, “Any thoughts about a name?”

Yuki hums thoughtfully, holding the bear out in front of them and considering it very seriously.  “I think...Jiikyu.”

Cloud smiles, immediately recognizing the source of the name.  Jiikyu, as in GQ.  Genderqueer.  “That's an awesome name,” he says, laying a kiss on their forehead.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You're welcome, Yuki.” 

#;;yuki #;;mom #;;dad #;;nanko #;;headcanon #;;backstory

[facetious-wanderer-blog]

“This is Hell’s territory and I am beholden to no gods.”

Calamity. Usually that was the title for a time when the earth beneath their feet would be terrorized. Life would be threatened and fear plucked a haunting cord in the hearts of the living. Fear led a many things in reaction. Good, bad, protection and selfishness. All sorts of thing would come, but one thing was above all else. Instinct. Instinct drove beings to continue forward, no matter what direction.

Primals had been heralded as Deities to Beast Tribes that sought out their power. Some could even be summoned by other means than a lot of crystals. Primals were usually taken care of by Warriors of Light. If left in the world, they could disrupt the fragile advances of survival. But how about keeping the power of a primal without having the primal around? The thought would seem to be such a foolish idea. Now, when beings with bright minds and clever tricks start at it.. they can do some pretty major things.

That Rufus ShinRa had plans. He wanted that power that Primals had, so a swift hand commanded his wishes to be done by any means. Something did start up, but it was rather secretive.. Even from most of the Turks. It was indeed a dangerous things they were working towards. Primal power infused weapons have been known to be a thing, though rare. Even as they were rare, there was also a rather.. complicated requirement for their usage.

~~

Bartz had been hanging around at times when bored. He was never told to LEAVE, but nothing told him to stay. Well, he had a feeling as of late that trying to leaving would provide complications. Nothing ever said, but it was something about what was in the eyes of the Turks he came across. Also something about how those eyes /followed/ him quite often. Oh well.

~~

Reno had ended up snooping where he shouldn't be. Curiosity brought him to this 'Secret Area' of totally super secret information. For why should something be denied to everyone while it was in the same building? It was fairly easy for him to sneak around and soon he came to the fruit of his adventure. Curious, it was just a box with some metal claws or something. They looked pretty cool though, so why not try them on? After putting them on, everything changed at a rapid pace.

Warm radiated from the claws as they gripped and tightened to the Turks' hands. Magic erupted from the claws, a miasma of amber hues. Something unusual about the magic, were the butterflies of bright lights that birthed from the magic and floated around him. Just to disperse, go back to the claws, and repeat. The power was overwhelming, and it simply just changed him. In a split moment of his humanity, Reno escaped far. A desire to protect others from himself? Or perhaps humiliated by his actions?

There was panic around the building. Murmurs fled around and the Warrior tilted a head in confusion. It took some aggressive encouraging on one of the lower ranked ones to get information out. The prime worry were High Priority weapons were taken. The other whispers were that it had been Reno. lastly, he heard mixed feelings about the situation. Some say he would have to die, others said they might could use him. Why were they talking like this? That Reno was the weapon now. Nonsense, Bartz just had to do something about this. After even more aggressive encouragement, he was able to get the info on the Turks location. He couldn't understand how they knew where he was, but weren't doing anything. What?

Well, he finally got to the location. A place of just dry land and no one around. Seeing Reno, he understood. Was that.. Was that even Reno anymore? Sure he wore his suit and had that bright red hair.. but those weapons corrupted him.

Magic had sort of.. altered his appearance. Well it wasn't physical but more like, the magic had created an image around Reno. Armor.. Multiple arms.. horns.. transparent wings. He knew what the look reminded him of and he could feel the magic. Ravana. Reno had the Dead Hive Claws.

No no no.. The weapons weren't supposed to do that. He knew primals weapons. It was like.. Like as if the weapon had been altered. Bartz was right of course. Those clever minds decided they wanted to amp up the power on those weapons.

Reno had seen Bartz walking over. When he straightened up and cracked his head over in the Warrior's direction, there was a pause. It was.. It was still Reno, right? "R-Reno?.. Hey.. Why don't you put those down, mkay?"

As Reno's arm raised to put towards Bartz, one of those translucent arms pointed a sparkling image of a sword. "Art thou Warrior, or Craven?" That voice was not Reno.

Hands came up in a calming gesture and he stopped his travel forward. "Reno.. Is me.. Bartz. Remember me, right? Hallway Gremlin? Constantly terrorizes you?" This wasn't looking good, not at all.

"Art thou a fool, then? I am RAVANA, fourfold master of the blade!" Arms were raised, magic being giving off of the claws in a rather proud fashion. A smirk spread across Reno's face as he peered over at Bartz again. "This is Hell's territory.. And I am beholden to no Gods! It is simple, fool. To live is but to fight! Life, or death?" A challenge as the primal that had possessed Reno would start to form a stance.

Primal weapons aren't meant for regular beings, Reno. Only Warriors of Light can wield them.. Maybe that's why I was being held along by a crimson thread. Those were meant for me to use.. You're just a fool that got to curious and had a burden thrust upon you.. that's okay. I'll fix this.

A shaken breath was taken before Bartz whispered to himself. "I'll save you Reno, and then we'll go home so we can get yelled at." A bit of a saddened smile was given towards the being before him. Arms came out before him as Light would start sparking. Moving his arms a certain way and the light started to form a physical appearance. The wind around him started to pick up, rustling through his clothes. He was blessed from a Crystal of Wind. He was also a Freelancer. As he was being held up in the air, the light arched and formed a large bow that was longer than his own body. Drawing back the fine thread of magic of bowstring, a large arrow was crafted. A mass of magic, of Light. When Bartz blinked, those pale eyes seemed to shine a bit more than usual.

I'll save you, I promise.

#yes its a long mess #I was a bit inspired #ff14 influences as well #I'm so tired #sadistic-second

[up-sideand-down]

AU Idea: Cloud becomes Rufus's or Lazard's personal assistant and is committed to being 100% perfect at his job. Even with the whole abetting terrorists thing.

Rufus didn’t really want a PA, per se. It just kind of got handed to him. He did one thing a little bit late and his father threw a hissy fit and gave him extra help, “since it seems you need it.” To be fair, Cloud didn’t want to be there either. Failing the SOLDIER qualifications was mortifying enough. Getting out of infantry by becoming a secretary? Positively humiliating. The only benefit was the pay. Ma told Cloud to just suck it up and keep the job until he had enough saved up to get the fuck out. 

All it took was one tiny criticism for Cloud to go all out. Rufus doesn’t even remember what he said, but Cloud does. Cloud had dropped his fancy PA tablet and cracked it and Rufus made a joke about how he didn’t need clumsy assistants. Cloud’s motivation then switched from the need for money, to pure spite. He was going to be the best goddamn assistant Rufus ever had. Rufus would weep the day Cloud quit. Cloud would make damn sure of that. Ma told Cloud to give them hell. 

After Cloud’s vow of spite, it took one month for the Turks to earn a healthy fear of Cloud. Rufus had plenty of access to a lot of things in ShinRa. As his assistant Cloud had almost the same amount. He learned everything about everyone he could. Even the Turks. Not that Cloud actually used much of that info, but he knows that the Turks know that he knows. It would be a terrible place to be...if Rufus wasn’t above him that is. And the only man who who over-rule Rufus...doesn’t give two shits. The Turks keep out of Cloud’s way. Ma told Cloud that he was kind of becoming a monster, but it was too funny to stop. 

Rufus was planning to aid AVALANCHE on his own, but Cloud found them, and dragged their high ranking members to Rufus himself. All without him asking. Rufus was terrified, but Cloud had the AVALANCHE guys scared shitless. Rufus decided it would be easier not to ask. He just wanted to make his father’s life miserable...or end altogether. Rufus finally realized why people were terrified of Cloud when Cloud informed him, very sternly and calmly, that those terrorists he was paying were killing many innocent people and were probably going to destroy the world. And it was all Rufus’s fault and everyone would know it because Cloud would tell them after Rufus was dead. Ma cackled when Cloud told her how Rufus quickly got the Turks to put an end to it, pretty please because Cloud told me to. 

The Turkified-Rufusized version of AVALANCHE was a bit better. It still caused havoc, but in the right places and at the right times. With Cloud’s careful, spine-tingling instruction Rufus was replacing his father within a year. The day he took over Cloud tossed his letter of resignation on Rufus’s desk. Rufus blinked at it, not sure if he should agree, but did sign it because he was kind of afraid of what Cloud would do. Cloud relaxed the moment the ink was dry. “What are you going to do Cloud?” Rufus asked. Cloud leveled him with one last icy stare. “No offense Rufus, but that is none of your goddamn business.” His Ma was proud of him. 

#headcanon #Cloud Strife #Rufus ShinRa #the Turks #fflove190

[ghostsandwhiskey]

Story + 11

@axgmented

The First Time Your Muse Broke My Muse’s Heart

   “It’s Geostigma.”

    Théo tilts his head, even thoughhe’s heard the words perfectly clear.Two cups of coffee in cheap, styrofoam cups are still grasped in his hands, theliquid cold by now. He stands very still, feels like he’s been punched in thegut.

    “Well fuck’n check again!” Reno, pacing manically up and down the medical winghallway, nothing but a blur of red hair and agitation.

    Somewhere in his periphery, thePresident’s son reclines, cool as a sphinx – expression unreadable. Dark Nationsits dutifully at his side, the tail-like tentacle on it’s spine swishingagainst the sterile, white floors. There’s something about the combination ofthe two of them that puts the SOLDIER onedge, in ways that Reno never could.

    The doctor clears her throat, adjusts herglasses in an eerie way that reminds Théo vaguely of that creep Hojo from the labs, and repeatsherself, more sternly. “It can’t beanything else. The symptoms are very distinct. The degeneration. The ink-likedischarge from the dermis. Her organs are struggling, trying to fight thetainted cells in her system. And with her… unique… genetic makeup, there’s no telling how else it might manifestitself.”

    Reno makes a noise like a threatenedanimal, half desperate, and half furious.

    Théo wants to kick in the hospital roomdoor, pick up his partner and get her the hell away from here. He hates thisplace. He hates the doctor talking like Rem is some sort of science experiment. He hates that shestarted as such, and hates that he even has to acknowledge that much of how sheis, is because some asshole decided toplay god. He knows better. In the year that they’ve worked together – rockyas it started, he discovered with each passing day that beneath that spiny,volatile exterior, there was a twenty-year-old kid who liked granola andcould drink any SOLDIER underneath the table. A twenty-year-old kid who haddumped an entire bucket of sand on his head in Costa Del Sol, took an hour torouse from sleep when she was hung-over, and once blew up a Marlboro with dynamite to save Théo’s ass.

    Somewhere along the way, he had toldhimself – never again. She deservedto live as a human being. Not anyone’s pet or project.

    “Treatment?” Rufus Shinra waves the doctoron, a trace of irritability in his voice.

    “…We attempted to stabilize her with makotherapy. Injections. Although with her history,her body could very well reject those also. There’s also some highlyexperimental medication, similar to chemotherapy that’s been mildly helpful intreating the symptoms of the disease. Though of course, it comes with more sideeffects. Perhaps with more study and observation---”

    Théo feels sick, puts the cups down on anearby chair. He’s been subject to regular mako injections since he joinedSOLDIER some ten years ago. Had gotten violently ill, like everything on hisinsides was wanting to get outside,for about 70% of the doses. He can’t even imagine – what with Rem damn neardrowning in the stuff when she was young---

    He doesn’t want to think about it. But all he can see is her bitter, tear-stainedface, wild mess of hair as she’d drunkenly told him her stories one night in amotel outside of Gongaga. She’d crawled into his bed, smelling heavily ofliquor, placed her small, cold hands underneath his shirt. He’d initiallyfreaked out, started to scramble away, but then she’d started speaking.Speaking with a dead expression, a monotone voice. Far off eyes like she wasn’tquite there. And every word hadbroken his goddam heart. He’d lether sleep there that night, curled against his arm like a kitten, after she’dscreamed herself hoarse and left the room in pieces. He can still remember herhair tinted by the colors of the OPEN sign through the window. Blood red, likeher irises. Blood red, like all the tortures of her past. He hadn’t moved,feeling her labored breath return to something peaceful, reminiscent of sleep.She didn’t acknowledge it in the morning – back to her feisty, spirited self,but the night did repeat itself in other motels in other places, and he hadlistened every time – understandingfor the first time what it was to care about someone so much that you would doterrible things to protect them.

   “---but she refuses. She almost broke thenurse’s arm, you know. Won’t let anyone touch her. Started becoming violent assoon as she even saw the needles.” The doctor continues.

    “No shit.” Reno deadpans, incredulous.

    “And those are the only possibletreatments at the moment?” The President reaches out a hand to stroke DarkNation.

    “At the moment. But like I said, with moreobservation---”

    “…Let me ask her.” Théo cuts in, voicesounding loud in his ears after so much silence.

    “What?” The doctor snorts, gives theSOLDIER a once over, “---And who are you?”

    “That’s her partner.” Reno cuts in.

    “Let me try.” Théo says it again, thistime with more conviction even though the volume of his voice remains the same.“…She trusts me.”

    Stilted, awkward silence.

    “Couldn’t hurt.” Rufus drawls.

    “Your funeral.” Reno adds.

    “Hm.” The doctor stares at himskeptically, then steps out of the way.

     Inside the room, Rem is awake. But she’spale as a ghost, dark shadows beneath her eyes, lips parched and cracked, andso many wires and monitors hooked up to her that she looks like she’s part machine. She looks smaller somehow,skinny legs drawn towards herself beneath a billowing hospital gown. She glaresbalefully at the nurse at her bedside, who’s writing on a clipboard.

    Théo nods towards the door at the medicalstaff. They’re about to protest, but the steely look he casts toward them isenough to drop the temperature in the room by several degrees, and they quicklyshuffle out. He lopes over to his partner’s side, looks down at her – lookingsuddenly delicate, like her fire’s slowly distinguishing, and feels likesomeone’s reached into his chest and squeezedhis heart.

    “Hey Theola. Come to bust me out? Thisplace is a fuck’n dump.” Her voice sounds hoarse, a weak whisper, but there’s atrace of that smirk that’s so purely Rem,he could cry.

    His mouth twitches at the corner slightly,even though there’s a lump in his throat. He settles down awkwardly on her bed,can’t make eye contact, hates himself for what he needs to say next. “...Takethe mako, Rem.”

    She draws herself back from him like she’sbeen scalded. “The fuck did you jus’say?”

    “…You need the injections. You’re dying.”

    “FUCK YOU, I ain’t tak’n NOTH’N!” Shereaches over to shove him, and her strength is still something to beholddespite her being bedridden.

    “Rem.”

    “NO! YOU CAN FUCK’N GO TO HELL WITH THEREST OF ‘EM!” There’s a tremor in her voice now, her eyes bright and wet withtears and she lunges at him, tries to strike his face.

    His arms come up to shield himself, butalso to wrap her struggling form in an embrace. She wails furiously againsthim, claws at him, tries to bite him, but he hangs on to her like an anchor,takes every thrown curse word and abuse stoically, because he can. He needs her to know that he’ll always be the steady to her storm. That no matterwhat, his life is forfeit if her life is even remotely in danger. When finally she tiredly deflates, he can feelwetness against the front of his uniform, can feel her trembling beneath histouch (like so many times before, in dingy hotel rooms, and road stops). Ittakes every ounce of his strength to plead again. “…Rem, please.”

    “Fuck you, Théo.” Whispered and strained.But a surrender, none the less.

    Her cheek rests against his chest whenthey give her the first shot, and Théo makes sure to not break eye contact,even as her face distorts with pain and he can see her muscles tensing with thewill to fight. A hand comes up to rest on the back of her head, surprisinglygentle for someone of his stature. A reminder that he’s here. He’s solid. She can lean on him anytime, and he will notcrumble, no matter how it rends his heart. Even in the face of her demons, andher nightmares.

#axgmented #rem #•°•silence has meaning | asks•°• #blood tw #illness tw #welp

[heartlcsss-blog1]

The Dark One

Introduction of Character

Name: Cloud Strife

True Name: N/A

Age: 17-23

Gender: Intersex Male

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Bisexual with a preference for males.

Nickname(s): Cloudy, Spikey.

Alias(es): The Cat Thief

Date of Birth: 08/11

Status: Active

Astrological/Zodiac Sign: Leo/Tiger

Species: Human tainted by darkness

Ethnicity: Caucasian (White)

Blood Type: AB+

Affiliations/Organizations: Himself

Occupation: Resident Thief

The Character’s Appearance

General Appearance:

Height:5′0″(17) - 5′7″(23)

Weight:120 lbs (17) - 150 lbs(23)

Handedness: Right

Tattoos/Birthmarks/Scars: None

Jewelry/Accessories: His bell charm, collar and belt bracelets.

About the Character

Personality: Cloud is the kind of person that just prefers solitude to company unless he knows the other person well. He’s mainly active at night and loves the thrill of a chase. Usually he’s the one being chased, but chasing someone works just as well too. 

Favorites: the night, shiny things, sweets

Least Favorites: The police

Hobbies/Interests: Stealing, a certain mopey brunette (Interest only)

Phobias/Fears: Hypodermic needles, getting his blood drawn, getting shots, doctors and labs in general

Habits: Sucking his thumb, wringing his hands, tilting his head.

Mannerisms: Cloud likes to talk like the streets he was raised on, so a lot of street slang and cuss words are present in his vocabulary.

Skills/Talents: Dancing, Stealing, getting other people mad, knows many different types of martial arts.

Best Qualities: Loyal if his trust is earned, loving if he likes you that way, flirty and mischevious 

Worst Qualities: depressive, aggressive, trust is hard to earn back if you break it

Morality/Ethics: He doesn’t really have any

Goals/Motivations/Dreams: Doesn’t have any.

The Character’s Relationship With Others

Reputation: Most consider him a nuisance, but those who truly understand him will see a loyal friend.

Love Interest(s): Squall/Leon Loire (Not sure if he knows about it)

Friends: Rinoa Heartily (Friend) Zack Fair (Best Friend) Yuffie Kisigari (Friend) Aeris Gainsburough (Friend) Tifa Lockhart (Friends)

Enemies: Heartless Orginization XIII

Relationship(s):

To be added when I get interactions with others

The Character’s Abilities

Powers/Abilities: Martial arts, sneaking and stealth, quick fingers, lock picking and combination lock cracking

Element(s): Fire

Strengths: Very quick and agile

Weaknesses: low actual strength

Restrictions: Only uses it to boost his physical abiilties

Fighting Style: Hand to hand combat, some swordplay

Weapon(s): Buster Sword

Weapon(s) Appearance(s):

Preferred Weapons: His fists, Buster Sword

Knowledge: 8/10

Conceptualization Power: 9/10

Motivation: 6/10

Will to Act: 9/10

Agility: 10/10

Power Control: 5/10

Swordsmanship: 10/10

Hand-to-Hand Combat: 10/10

Long Range Accuracy: 2/10

Offense: 7/10

Defense: 8/10

Social Skills: 4/10

The Character’s Familial/Biographical Information

Birthplace: Radiant Garden

Family:  Claudia Strife (Mother, Deceased) President Shinra (Father, Unknown whereabouts) Rufus Shinra (Half-Brother, Active) Lazard Deusericus (Half-Brother, Active)

Familial Background: Cloud was raised by his mother, so he doesn’t really know about his father’s side of the family. Character Background: Cloud was raised by his mother in Radiant garden before and after the fall. He knew Squall (Leons name back then) and his other friends, but when the fall happened he was cursed by the darkness and saved from becoming a heartless. His mother lived as well, but she went mad after the experience. She killed herself when Cloud was 9, leaving the boy to scrounge for food and water in the remains of the now dubbed Hollow Bastion. As time passed he learned to use the portals of darkness to travel to other worlds. 

And so his life of crime began. He stole at first to survive, but found fun and enjoyment in it. So he now runs a shady second hand shop full of things he doesn’t want that he has stolen in the lowest portion of Hollow Bastion. Shady thugs who made the journey to his shop alive were rewarded greatly and paid lots of money. When Hollow Bastion was restored he was older and preferred to keep away from what he called the above platers. 

His business is still thriving even with the restoration of Radiant Garden going on, as it’s hidden deep within the remains of the old castle.

#outofdark #about