#saishuu-heiki

[unforestalledreturn]

Only Teeth

a starter for @saishuu-heiki

It had begun innocently enough. It was a  young child’s dream to find that place again in the world, to find that warmth that was lost. Beloved jewel to unspoken disgrace, overnight, without warning or explanation, Genesis was left yearning for something he could neither describe nor tangibly hold. It was the scorn of the Banoran townspeople’s eyes, the pensive looks, the whispers. Once, they were filled with adoration, with smiles and laughter. But now, after so many years, such things were rose-tinted echoes that the freshly recruited SOLDIER hardly recognized. 

One would think admission to the most coveted ranks in ShinRa’s imposing army would have been cause for celebration. But even at the entrance ceremony, Genesis stuck out like a sore thumb. Amongst the rows of fresh recruits, he was quite a bit older. He was far more freckle-faced, far less muscular, and if these were all overlooked, the bright red sash on his arm that no one else in the crowd bore truly did separate him from the rest. And it was not in a good way. Genesis had only been accepted via a niche, scarcely used program that specialized in magic and materia usage as a primary vector. At first, he thought there would be plenty of others like him, that he would rise through the ranks and prove every naysayer wrong, and turn every scornful eye to respect. 

Genesis was wrong. And as the weeks turned into months, he became intimately acquainted with just how wrong he was. SOLDIER was predicated on the strength enhancing properties of mako and those that could withstand it. And it turned out that even those who passed the initial tests often dropped out to infantry as their tolerance failed. They dropped like flies. They puked during physical exams, were overtaken by fever, by memory loss, by a whole host of ailments that disqualified them from becoming the best of the best. 

And, as it was in nature, when the environment was brutal, only the strongest would survive. 

“Well, well, well… I guess 17 times the charm, Rhapsodos.” A brutish SOLDIER 3rd’s voice cut across the training room where Genesis had been planking on a mat. Even if his strength requirements were not the same to maintain his good standing, he had bare minimums. Cloudy eyes glared forward as Genesis pretended to not hear. 

Then, a boot was placed square on his back, pressure mounting. 

“I even heard they were so tired of you trying that they made up a whole new program. Isn’t that rich?” The 3rd chuckled as his little posse echoed his sentiments, surrounding their prey like a jackal. 

Genesis’ breath labored, arms shaking beneath the weight, arms screaming. But he grit his teeth to hold his silence. He reminded himself of his own promise-- to turn every eye, make each disbeliever swallow their tongue. The example of stoicism and refinement that one lauded Sephiroth excluded was secretly every SOLDIER’s dream, even if they never had the chance to meet the prodigy face to face. Most were lucky to even be deployed with that one man army. With grace and skill like that, one had no use to respond to snapping dogs. 

Only… 

The more Genesis sweat, the more his muscles ached and stomach knotted, the more he was faced with a bitter reality; he was not Sephiroth. And his arms buckled, body flattened beneath the oppressive pressure. This was met with laughter, the 3rd’s sharp heel digging into his shoulder blades. “Awww. City life’s hard for a little country boy. You know, I heard there are still openings in infantry for a toilet scrubber. That is of course if your dainty little self can withstand such hard labor.” 

Genesis did not have the luxury of grace or decorum. He did not have the reputation. He had only his teeth, his bones, his wrath, his indignation. 

From outside the training hall, those passing were only mildly aware of the drama within. Some lingered at the doorway, curious, but knowing better than to get caught up on a SOLDIER’s ego trip and continued on. Others idly gossiped at the common room nearby or just got some much needed coffee in their sleep-deprived bodies. It was a more or less unremarkable scene, until the entire floor of the building shook with an explosion. Those in the hallway were immediately enveloped in the plume of a fireball, and the common room was filled with hoarse choking and blindly fumbling through the smoke. The thick metal walls encasing the training room began to crack and in some places even melted-- that was until the fire alarms began to blare, water steaming down in an attempt to put out the blaze.

#saishuu-heiki #rp: only teeth #verse: I'm Still Here #here you are! #hope this works!

[stingslikeabee]

A letter left in her charge and hers alone. In the wake of Hikaru Sephiroth's memories returning, his heart may have been nurtured to new heights, but his ideals remained the same, stubbornly. He sought to make the world in Jenova's vision and was terminated. There would be no return from the Lifestream nor any more mothering from Melissa. A letter and memories were all that were left — ❛ This comes only with the certainty of my demise which means I failed. Again, I failed. This world was not for me, and I not fit for it. On the precipice of true death, I am certain I regret not being in your embrace where I was the happiest I could ever imagine being. I should have stayed, shouldn't it? I can't hold regrets in the afterlife, but it is my hope you do not carry any regrets nursing me to health. I never knew what love was until I had you. Goodbye, Melissa. I am sorry. ❜

unscripted asks . always accepting

She knew.

Upon finding the sealed envelope on her vanity, Melissa just knew what it all meant - even if there had been no news network relaying the events taking place so far away from Midgar or if the penmanship had been a strange one, a mother always sensed things differently in relation to her children. And while Hikaru (or rather, Sephiroth) had not been born from her body, he was her son.

It was just how she viewed the man - grown-up and deadly when transferred to Melissa's care and thanks to Shiva's grace, but embraced by the innocence of a young boy with the amnesia that plagued (or blessed?) him at the time. Theirs had been a journey of discovery - of the delicate and yet intense bonds that bloomed from simple acts such as washing hair, discovering one's favorite fresh fruit or even celebrating birthdays together.

Sephiroth had caused the deaths of many - a man deprived of humanity and fashioned into a weapon, but not while living under a false name and at the inn. For a while, he had just been 'Hikaru' - the light in her life, a silent presence that yet offered so much joy to Melissa. All the misguided, suffocated love that lingered in her heart and threatened to overflow finally had a worthy recipient. Hikaru needed a mother as strongly as she needed to care for him.

Gone were the ideas of having in him an ally against Corneo, some additional protection for the inn employees and slum residents - that was all secondary. Selfishly, Melissa had thought that their bliss would not be cut short - they had endured their trials and the gods wouldn't be as cruel as to separate those meant to find one another, right?

Not quite.

The woman who clutched the letter to her chest and sobbed with abandon did not react as the average Midgarian would to the news of an iconic figure suddenly re-emerging and then returning to the Lifestream (again?). Sephiroth had inspired many, then terrified even more people - but Melissa couldn't (wouldn't) believe that he was the same. Whoever the general had been - Hikaru was now part of him.

Her son, her curious child, her loving offspring with beautiful mako eyes, tender hands despite the calloused palms, soft touches even if he had no shortage of excuses to be cruel. All the vile words that the news channel kept repeating and people commented about were wrong - hurtful vitriol, baseless accusations. It stained his memory and eroded his good deeds.

What about the homeless children he defended? The girls he stood for? The old and vulnerable who breathed a sigh of relief when he emerged from a dark corner to face those sent by Corneo? Hikaru (and Sephiroth, by extension) had been human, loved and admired without the pomp and circumstance of a 1st Class. He had been himself.

He had been her son and Melissa would never forget him.

"I will see you again, Hikaru," the words were broken, the sobs making it hard for anything to get out at all. No trace of the melodic timbre or the warmth of her eyes remained - just steel determination to make the same journey as he had, "I know. I feel it. I will see you again, my son."

#saishuu-heiki #saishuu heiki #v: the Evil Queen #replied #how dare #I'm working through my inbox and #how daaaare #her (mass-murderer) baby!!

[ceaselxss]

Impersonate.

Send “impersonate” for my muse to try and impersonate yours.

"Gaia exists to kneel for me or to perish; but the insignificant pests of this world fight back. Why do they fight? Is it something I can comprehend - their fight for survival when I have decreed otherwise? Why do they not simply give up to me? Am I not the perfect chosen one of this world? Could it be perhaps that people raised with any form of free will would not just accept death when told? Free will is not something I can fathom; manipulated and controlled throughout every facet of my existence... Why do they fight? Why didn't I?"

"I think I know better than ShinRa, but all I know is because of ShinRa. Perfect specimen, perfect weapon, turned against them but still made, created, forged by ShinRa. How can I be better when no part of me doesn't still belong to them?"

#saishuu-heiki

[ofgeneticperfection]

Starter for @saishuu-heiki:

It was rare for Isrieal to stray far from ShinRa tower. There was a point in time where she wasn't allowed to leave it or rather the labs. Giving a bird wings, however, didn't mean that it would remember how to fly. For her to be found in the slums meant she was either scouting out a new test subject for Hojo that no one would miss or keeping track of old ones that were let back out.

Once or twice Hojo had tried to recreate Sephiroth since his disappearance, but disappointed with the results both men were discarded back into the wastes that they were dredged up from. Every now and then Isrieal made sure that they were not causing a disturbance to the populace and brought with her injections that would ease their discomfort. Although that was not part of her orders.

Dressed in a black cloak herself, she slipped between the shadows of the slums hiding her unique appearance. Although she held similar traits to the fallen Soldier she was not part of the Sephiroth project. Hojo had found her once half drowned from Mako in an old reactor and used her to re-create a living form of Jenova for himself.

Even though it had nearly been her demise that green, glowing substance never ceased to capture her. She loved to watch the glow in the sky from the tower and she was ever curious about the lifestream. Quietly, she steps through the tunnels of the slums in search of one of the failures that she knew to roam this area.

Something felt off here tonight, an electrical tingling that danced beneath her skin only when others with Jenova's cells were near, but the feeling of this was far stronger than the clones usually gave off. When she turns the corner of the tunnel she pauses in her tracks, eyes alight with the light from the green swirls flowing forth from the ground. Lifestream that had temporarily found its way through the cracks to surface and here she was to encounter it before it had faded once more.

She's transfixed in the moment, eyes wide with excitement and intrigue and not paying attention to what could be in the tunnels behind her.

#saishuu-heiki #Sephiroth - Renewed and Reborn #Sorry for the wait #I hope this works for you! Feel free to let me know - I can make any changes

[shinrascomputer]

❛ if you were wise, you would join my fight. ❜

He's stunned that Sephiroth would even offer him the chance to join his fight, and he took a deep breath. "I... Don't think I'm very wise, then, Sephiroth." He replied quietly. "I don't agree with what Shinra does, but... I've made friends and built trust. I can't turn my back on that."

#saishuu-heiki #You want some emotions right

[xenosagaepisodeone]

#Saishuu Heiki Kanojo #SaiKano #manga #its incredible how a series that stakes its whole premise on the love story ends up making the love story the least interesting #thing #bro can you stop intervaling between trying to bang your gf and calling her stupid. just compliment her or something. PLEASE. #the date scenes were CUTE. why couldnt there be more of those...

[therosecrest]

#Saishuu Heiki Kanojo #Saikano #She the Ultimate Weapon #The Last Love Song on This Little Planet #Chise #Shuuji #Anime #gifset

[doyouknowthisanime]

Do You Know This Anime?

#saikano #saishuu heiki kanojo #she the ultimate weapon #anime #polls

[gcldfanged]

@saishuu-heiki

The ground had been too hard with ice to bury the old man, so Jae had spent the better part of an entire day chopping down trees to fashion a pyre for him. Despite the steel coloring his once pitch black hair and beard, he'd looked as handsome as he had in the photos of his youth: a towering sequoia amongst a forest of lesser men, great iron muscles straining and thick veins splintering blade, bullet and lash-tortured skin. His anguish was their suffering, the austere Loyalists who bled for home and country. They were nothing more than primitives that the Modernists now laughed at, for not whoring themselves, for covering their superior human forms in hand me down skin and hides like simple animals.

If they were seen as little more than a sidestep away from basic savagery, then he would continue to stalk the wilds as one of them. Wrapped from head to toe in mink and thick wools, none of the glimmering liquid gemstone colors of industrialized silks, nor the pinstriped cotton-twills of Junon's boxy suits and jaunty fedoras. His shoes were traditional gutals, handcarved leather and insulating fur, stocky with their slightly upturned toes and soles that left barely a footprint in even powder-snow. Surrounded by drooling, panting mountainous 'shepherd dogs' only a handful's generations of careless breeding away from wolves- They were as one, of the same razor-edged instinct and unified mind focused solely on the hunt. On the kill. Wolves wished they killed with the ferocity that they did.

Wolves never attacked unless you'd wronged them, somehow- Then they would take you, if they could. Normally they would merely hunch in the snow with baleful eyes and curl their tails between their legs miserably, saliva glistening on their fangs from one too many days without fresh meat. They knew better.

The Han were a proud nation of survivors, from the barren terrain and the frigid temperatures stymieing new growth and life, to the hostile occupation by Wutai stomping their pride and faces into the frigid, muddy earth. They were the product of a culture and an ideology that, as far as everyone else was concerned, no longer existed. They'd been worse than just cast out- To sink so low as to accept foreign aid, to fall so far as to do terrible and cynical things. Men and women would sacrifice themselves for 'The Greater Good'. This, he knew. His grandfather's entire life had been committed to the belief that it had all been voluntary.

But that wasn't the problem. It wasn't the dying. It was living and dying for what their leaders had become. Unbeknownst to them, to the old man whose last words were a long rattling wheeze and a hand thrust out at his grandchild and a strangled "What was it all for...?", to everyone else who'd worked and toiled and sacrificed so much, their great country was nothing at all.

Fucking nothing. Somehow their most promising generation had turned heel to greedy capitalists and as the old ways deteriorated, it didn't take long to find the trails of blood and mako they'd left behind. They bowed before and kissed the polished leather of Shinra's dress shoes as their industrial engineers swarmed over the bloated carcass of Haneul like a plague of botflies. The natural flora and fauna withered and twisted into mako-poisoned mutations, jobs became scarce due to rampant automation, their sons and daughters prostituted as the company grew fat off their blood, sweat, and bitter tears.

As far as he was concerned, The Silver General may as well be the court jester prancing about for an oligarchy of human parasites tearing into their great nation's pride and simple dignity- It's humanity. He'd seen it and lived in it, the desperation and poverty. Distinguished intellectuals and artisans selling themselves on the street. The Loyalists labeled 'rebels' and 'criminals'.

It was almost a relief his grandfather had passed when he did, just to prevent him from the knowing- That they hadn't just fallen, but passed hitting rock bottom and carved it's way into the chthonian underbelly of modern man's gravest sins.

Chaebols had become a byword for crooks, because natives understood what the decadent West's idea of business was. It was only a quest for ownership. It wasn't fair trade. It wasn't about equality. It was zero-sum savagery. It was taking what you wanted and giving your victim the illusion of consent.

The profiteers 'enriched' themselves, bloated their accounts with foreign gil. There was rarely even the simple poetic bliss in one of them getting torn apart by a reactor bomb planted by AVALANCHE. They survived. The shitheads always survived. The assholes always did.

So what did that mean about him?

His gaze is twinned black holes and merciless, spearing his gimlet eyed stare down the nose of a stolen rifle. It was anger and outrage and pain- A once great nation's desperate denial of the inevitable.

"Shinra isn't welcome here."

The words aren't ungainly on his lips, they never had been. Han was his language, but they'd learned Common in primary school, babbling syllables in other tongues.

Their enemy's and their ally's: He'd learned Wutainese when he attempted training to enlist in counter-intelligence. He'd felt the weight of hungry eyes more than once as Shinra's science department sniffed around, attempted to slobber all over him. It was disgraceful- Disgusting, the way they posed and preened and invited him to become more than 'just a farmer with a gun', not even Public Security, but a SOLDIER.

To Hell with them.

To Hell with anyone.

#saishuuheiki #saishuu heiki #◈ rp threads #◈ Han Loyalist!Verse tag pending #I think Jae was initially supposed to be less hostile but uhhh this happened #if I need to edit or change anything PLEASE let me know I do not mind #also sorry this literally took like 50 years to complete because work has been draining my creative juices #Jae: *looks like crazy-ass hermit who lives in the woods* #... actually it wouldn't be out of the question to assume Jae is some eccentric like the USA's extremist Libertarians #'GIT OFFA MAH LAWN'

[cyberpunkboytoy]

I’m the only one who understands her (she’s round and soft)

#and also my daughter #Saikano #Chise #The last love song on this little planet #She the Ultimate Weapon #Saishuu Heiki Kanojo #fanart #my art

[unforestalledreturn]

‘ i know i’m not the person you want, but i’m here. ’

「   RP MEME :  RANDOM DIALOGUE 2.0   」     || Status : Accepting!

Everything was so wrong. His flesh and bone felt anything but his own, the way things moved beneath. He felt the organs from beneath twist and flip, the electricity jolting at the synapse of every nerve. But the pressure was the worst. Human flesh was rather elastic-- it did not easily break, not from what was neither a cut nor abrasion. Yet, as Genesis writhed and gasped on the ground of some dilapidated hut on the outskirts of a Wutain village, the pressure mounted. His head pounded, and he pled. He pled in the tongues he knew, in the one's he did not, helpless as the individual fibers of his back muscle sundered. And, so it was in the violent baptism of red that Genesis ceased being human, a single, slickened wing limp on the ground beside him. And in his final, dizzying thoughts, in the frame of the doorless hut, he thought he saw a set of familiar boots, heard, a familiar voice. It elicited a tired, punctuated, but no less relieved exhale. But in a flash of lightening, the boots were gone. A hallucination? Well. He did reckon he was bleeding quite heavily. Cruel tricks for a mind to play, especially when it felt so real.

#saishuu-heiki #ask #c: I give you some body horror #and maybe a hallucination? #spoooooooOOOky and sad

[stingslikeabee]

Amnesia or no, Sephiroth never had a grasp on the concept of celebrating one's birth. The amnesia did add an element to innocence however, and it was through the honeybee chattering gossip that the man caught wind of the incoming date and the importance of it. He knew not what to do, and furthermore no one expected anything from him. With what little resources he had, he kindly asked one of the women to buy a beautiful card worthy of her presence. The words had fallen from his mouth before he gave it much thought, and the card which was presented to him seemed to fit that description. So he hoped. Calligraphy was far from stellar that point, but he inscribed a message inside. Short but honest. 'I wouldn't know what to do if it wasn't for you. Thank you for everything.' It was bare bones, but Sephiroth Hikaru knew nothing else.

unscripted asks - birthday edition! . always accepting

Once the girls from the inn had grown used to the presence of Hikaru, they had also loosened up when his imposing figure was around. The average worker under Melissa knew better than to question their queen's choices when it came to the people she chose to mingle with and, quite frankly, Wall Market was unlike anything else. If Shinra turned a blind eye to the district, so did the laws of logic.

So rather than suspicious, the honeygirls were delighted to assist Hikaru with his sweet request, excited that he seemed to care to be generous to his benefactor on her birthday. After all, for an outsider, it seemed like the old ghost of the Sector 6 turned into unofficial brothel protector had lucked out - he had been taken in by someone good and caring when the world was nothing but; he was so fortunate to have Melissa at his side.

But when the card did make to her room, among other trinkets and gifts gathered during the course of a normal business day, the self-styled queen felt differently. Was really Hikaru the lucky one upon a closer look? His had been no joyful existence, but it hadn't been compromised by external dangers. One way or another, the silent shadow watching over the more vulnerable from Wall Market had been doing his job just fine until their paths crossed.

But Melissa? She had her girls and other members of the staff to fuss and reign over like a good mother, but Hikaru was different. The man that was such a fascinating contrast between lethality and innocence needed her on a level that hadn't been required before - where every drop of kindness multiplied by tenfold. Maybe the former stranger thought he didn't need anyone only to find priceless support in Melissa; and perhaps the madame believed herself fulfilled when she hadn't been. Not really.

Not with all that latent affection with nowhere to go. In Hikaru, however, it came to fruition - it blossomed, it thrived and she glowed. To care for another, to see him evolving (speech turning more coherent, appearance getting healthier, the eyes shining brighter with immensurable intelligence) was the truest gift. For a soul that needed to love like Melissa's, to have someone willingly basking in that feeling was better than anything.

That card signified just that much - she had saved Hikaru from the sewers, but had been saved in return by his sincere admiration and support. And little by little, that bond had been reinforced like no other, and the queen bee felt in her bones the resolution that once fueled her need to escape to locate her missing sisters; the same drive to slash Corneo's throat open and liberate herself.

Melissa knew she would do anything for Hikaru - irrespective of any blood ties, he was hers to protect. The swordsman had the madame's back from physical harm, and she would make sure that his heart endured no more strife.

Such purpose, this dedication - nothing could ever surpass that type of birthday gift.

#saishuu-heiki #saishuuheiki #v: the Evil Queen #birthday shenanigans 2023! #replied #in which this turned very emotional #she has a lot of feelings for him #11/10 would scratch the eyes of anyone who dared hurt him #(nevermind he's lethal enough on his own 8D)

[ceaselxss]

does tseng indulge in one-night stands?

//Indeed he does

Tseng is a hedonist at his core and he uses sex for stress relief; and he has a very stressful job. He also doesn't have time to maintain relationships for the most part, plus with the danger and secrecy of his work, he really isn't in the position to date

So, yeah, more often than not he is having one night stands. He's very open about it, and also quite firm on it, in the sense that he doesn't want people to get attached

He also goes to sex work a lot, he's got a few places in Wall Market that would consider him a regular - he's very well liked because he tips very well, and he's a very respectful client. This is usually when he doesn't feel up to the dance of flirting at a bar, but also because he doesn't like showing his scars to random people because the reactions annoy him, but when he's paying for it and people know to be quiet about them its easier. This is the lowest energy option for him and he does indulge quite a bit

#thank you! #saishuu-heiki #nsft #i visualise you all alone. [headcanon]

[myristicisms]

Small villages and close knit communities were... Vastly different compared to Midgar, to ShinRa as a whole; For years Zack never quite understood the ways of city folks, the idea of not looking out for one another even in mundane day to day life was an oddity that often left the starry eyed teen confused if not outright sad simply because Gongaga had been a village full of people watching out for one another regardless of inconvenience. Everyone knew everything about the rest of the community and did their damnedest to do what benefited the village rather than the individual themselves and Zack had grown up being taught to value kindness and respect over everything.

His mother had long since drilled into the young Fair that his dignity tied into his kindness, that a man with any semblance of honor and worth would do his best to assist those in need simply because it was the right thing to do and not because it provided some sort of benefit, that sort of kindness was a rarity in Midgar and that too was something that left a bitter pit deep within the raven haired man's heart, left it weeping for those that seldom got to experience a kindness without any strings attached simply because that was one of the beauties Gongaga offered. It takes a village to raise a child, after all, and Midgar certainly was no village.

That's why it comes as no shock when Sephiroth approaches him, concern evident between fine silver brows despite the ever present calm expression upon the older man's face and Zack has to bite his cheek to keep a straight face. That wasn't the first time he'd heard something similar and were Fair a betting man, he'd bet his life savings on it not being the last, still though it's nice to know that his efforts to provide some sort of warmth within his area hadn't gone unnoticed. “ If it's not my kindness then it'd be something else, don't'cha think? ” Aqua eyes close momentarily while leather clad fingers run through sable spikes in thought, trying to formulate something less defensive.

“ I know it's dangerous to be so soft hearted in our line of work but... Well, you can take the kid outta the village but you're not taking the village out of the kid, y'know? ” And it felt wrong to try and suppress that part of himself, there wasn't a mean bone in his body and Zack knew damned well that his choice of career certainly clashed with that golden heart that he never quite learned to fully harden despite all the grief he's come to experience. “ And honestly if it does end up getting me killed then I think I'd be fine with that, not that I'm trying to get myself killed but I'd rather die as someone that people who knew me would be proud of; That's getting a bit into downer territory though and I'm not sure you wanna hear me talk about dignity and kindness and all that, I know I hated hearing it from my parents as a kid. ”

@saishuu-heiki | Sephiroth

→ ❛ i fear one day your kindness will get you killed. great strength and tremendous weakness weaved in one, zack. ❜

#muse;; zack fair #saishuu-heiki | sephiroth #• answered ic!

[axgmented]

❛ do you see yourself a monster as I see myself? ❜

@saishuu-heiki

it had been a good night.

drinks had come back to back, the honeybees were putting on one hell of performance, and everyone was in high spirits. The nightlife was thriving down the alleys and buildings of wall market-- a night of celebration after a few successful missions; turks blowing off steam in a way of r & r. rem had even gotten a cute girls number, scribbled on the inside of a gum wrapper and tucked safely inside the pocket of her blazer. rem had thought about giving her a ring on her way home-- there was just something about a pretty blonde…

their merry band of misfits and delinquency parted ways, Rude keeping a very intoxicated reno up on wobbly legs as if he were a newborn fawn. He was grinning, mouth stretched in a smile and when he attempted a two-finger salute, Rude pressed his mouth into a tight line to keep himself from grinning at his partner's antics. Something told Rem he was probably going to have one hell of a headache in the morning. at their departure, rem had just finished off a cigarette and flicked the spent filter towards the side of her figure as she exhales the toxins into the air.

she shoves her hands into the pockets of her blazer, the fingers of her right hand sliding into the designated slots of her brass knuckles as her left fingers grazed the foil of the gum wrapper that the girl had shoved into her pocket. The thought makes her lip twitch in another smirk as she turns the corner, cutting down an alley in an attempt of a shortcut as she makes her way home. the turk had plans to hit the gym in the morning, to cross a few errands off of her list and maybe even visit the bar to check on the kids; if they had been good for a certain bar-tender, she might take them to the fair.

Her boots pause, the heel scuffing against the uneven asphalt before a sharp pain throbs behind her eyes and the suddeness of it all steals the breath from her lungs. the world stops, it has to, because nothing feels real. the wind no longer rustles trash along side the buildings, she can't hear the fading music from the clubs and no longer does she hear the chatter from the people indulging in what wall market has to offer. There's nothing-- just her shallow breathing and the pain behind her eyes.

Rem can feel her pupils flickering, reacting-- and she manages to lift her head just a fraction against the invisible force that presses against her whole being before her tongue dries out in her mouth. He stands before her, like a phantom come to life. Sweat breaks out across her brow, the colour draining from her face and the roots of her hair tingle with the feeling of fear. her body is unresponsive as her mind screams at her legs to move, to backtrack, to do literally anything but stand like a frozen fawn in the presence of a starving lion. her shuddering breaths sound far too loud in the eerie silence that surrounds them.

❛ do you see yourself a monster as I see myself? ❜

his voice releases the pressure around her throat, like an invisible hand recoiling and allowing her to breathe. The pain in her head is constant now, speeding up with the tempo of her heart. still, her figure does not move-- it does not obey her panicked thoughts of "run, flee, get away". chest heaves as she greedily sucks down air only to have it leave in a fearful exhale; hearing his voice confirms that the nightmare stands before her.

he has no idea, how much of a monster she is. how every night she wrestles with the desire to give into the haunting shrieks and ghostly demands of a woman who claims to be mother-- how the cosmos cries for her body to burst into starlight and bring forth the ruination of the planet. how desperately does she wish to paint the inside of the presidents office red, to tear his throat open and watch the very life drain from his eyes. Rem staggers, footsteps sounding just as deafening as her laboured breathing-- a hand shoots out, palms scraping across the surface of the rough brick in an attempt to keep herself outright. When he steps forward, her knees buckle and she grits her teeth together, ivories clenched as a wounded noise leaves through them.

"…am no monst'r.. y-ya weren't eith'r… at least.. no'back then…"

#answered;; #saishuu heiki #saishuuheiki

[therosecrest]

#Saishuu Heiki Kanojo #Saikano #She the Ultimate Weapon #The Last Love Song on This Little Planet #Chise #Shuuji #Anime #gif