#but yeah i ended up preferring broadswords in the end anyway so it's fine

[redbootsindoriath]

Okay so before I can make my next post I need to make a separate introduction post for my...OC I guess...? who’s called the Messenger.

He’s not exactly an OC, but he kind of is.  Whenever I’ve read a new book or watched a new movie or whatever, his job is to go to my favorite character (or characters) and give them a button from his coat as a symbol of their rank.  Because I tend to always unwittingly choose characters who die as my favorites, I would imagine that these buttons have become a symbol of death in the entire fictional world.  I’ll put a few comments about his outfit under the cut.

He wears a short black cape and a double-breasted coat with long tails and gold and white trim at the cuffs and collar.  Sometimes he wears gloves and sometimes not.  The mask is to add a sense of mystery, since even I don’t know exactly who he’s supposed to be.

The dagger is for cutting the buttons off his coat.  The rapier is in case any of the characters try to turn down the proffered button and also because I was way into fencing when I first created him.

(And yes I know he looks quite similar to Alkali.  I came up with his design at a time when I could only draw one face shape and two hairstyles.)

So now that he’s been introduced, the next post later this week should make more sense.

#the messenger #my trash #/end classification tags #i actually tried to learn italian fencing the same year i came up with the messenger #had to give it up for lack of an instructor or a sword or room to practice #but i did memorize the steps and stances and hand positions #but yeah i ended up preferring broadswords in the end anyway so it's fine #i still think rapiers look cool though

[aimeelouart]

How about cursed cloud ending up in a universe where his and Sephiroth's roles were reversed?

The Calamity’s Cursed Child - 1789 words, ASGZC, dimension-hopping, may have a part two later

(Why do all my prompts go off the rails from what I expected? Whatever. I hope you enjoy it anyway!)

--

When Cloud first started bouncing between dimensions, he spent no more than a few minutes in each new world before being sent to the next. Then, slowly, the time between jumps started to stretch. First five minutes, then ten, then thirty, then an hour, then several hours. It was a mixed blessing at best. If he was in a good world, or at least a world that lacked the power to subdue him, then he had a chance to rest. If it was not, then he...endured. 

Always, he endured.

This newest world took all of three seconds to go sideways, and his only saving grace was that the previous world had afforded him nearly four uninterrupted hours of sleep. He drew in a breath as the buzzing faded, immediately diving to the side and smoothly drawing Tsurugi as he heard the whistle of air over a sword’s keen blade.

Sephiroth stood across from him, silver hair rippling in the wind. Cloud had narrowly avoided being impaled by Masamune for the...well, he’d long since lost track of the number of times he’d been impaled on that blade, actually.

Cloud wasn’t surprised. In fact, it was such a familiar scenario that he didn’t feel much of anything. He didn’t speak. He didn’t attack. He waited, ready to act once this Sephiroth revealed what kind of man he was. If he had to fight, he would. If it was better to flee, he would. He had neither pride nor preference left in him.

“Strife,” Sephiroth said, voice hard. 

Ah. That was a new one. Cloud cocked his head to the side. Sephiroth either called him Cloud, possessive as a hand around his throat, or he didn’t recognize him at all. Cloud had never been addressed with the cold distance of Strife before.

Zack was by Sephiroth’s side, expression equally hard. It wasn’t the first time Zack had been hostile to him, but it still burned like a physical wound. “How are you back, Strife?” he spat, sword in hand. “Haven’t we killed you enough already?”

Ah. Ah. Cloud thought he finally had an idea of what was going on. Well, this would either give him another chance to rest or he would be playing an unpleasant game of high-stakes tag against a mirror-image of the family he once knew. He blinked at them tiredly and spoke, not quite ready to holster Tsurugi yet: “Ah. No. I’m not the ‘Strife’ you know. Knew. The opposite, really. I’ve come from a different dimension entirely and I have no wish to fight you.”

Zack scoffed. “You expect us to believe that? After what you did?”

But Sephiroth held up a hand. “Wait. Zack, does he not look different to you?”

Cloud just stood silent, endlessly patient as the two SOLDIERs examined him closely. Zack’s expression in particular slowly melted from angry, wounded hostility to wary confusion. 

“Yeah,” Zack said eventually, tensed muscles relaxing. His eyes lingered on Cloud’s. “Yeah, he does.”

Cloud took a risk, slinging Tsurugi back over his shoulder and locking it to the magnetic holster. They might still try to kill him, but now he would have enough warning to bolt. In response, they slowly lowered their own weapons, though neither fully put them away.

“...Cloud?” Zack asked, soft, cautious...hopeful.

A tiny, tiny smile tugged at the edge of Cloud’s lips. “Most people do call me that, yeah, Zack.”

The dark-haired man’s answering grin was absolutely blinding in its intensity. He took a step forward, only to be stopped by one of Sephiroth’s hands on his chest. 

“Wait,” Sephiroth said, a hard light still lingering in his eyes. “Do you have any way to prove your claims...Cloud?”

He snorted. “I’m guaranteed to vanish into the next dimension within a few hours, but other than that, no.” He shook his head. “I doubt I could even offer you confirmable information. Where I came from⁠, and most of the worlds I’ve seen...well, I’m not the one Zack usually greets with hostility.”

They both blinked in surprise. “What?” Zack asked, head cocking to the side.

“This is just a guess, but by your reactions the Strife of this universe went Jenova-crazy and tried to destroy the world, right?”

Immediately, Zack’s expression shuttered and Sephiroth’s returned to coldness. “Something like that,” Sephiroth said.

“Mm,” Cloud hummed. “Well, sorry to spring this on you⁠—” he wasn’t “⁠—but nine times out of ten, Sephiroth is the one who gets...Jenova’d.”

 Zack looked at Sephiroth, aghast. “Is that⁠—would that have been better or worse?”

“I don’t want to know,” the silver-haired man said flatly. Cloud nodded in agreement. Apparently his words, or maybe his agreement, was enough proof for the silver-haired man to relax from outright hostility. Sephiroth finally dismissed Masamune and Zack followed suit, holstering the broadsword that...wasn’t the Buster.

Cloud didn’t want to know about that either.

Then Zack bounded forward. Cloud flinched as he was swept up into a hug without any warning. His feet were no longer touching the floor. He fought down the reflexive urge to cast a point-blank Firaga. After a few more seconds he even managed to convince his body to relax into Zack’s arms.

“It’s so good to see you again, Cloud,” the dark-haired man murmured, a world of weight behind his words.

The blond huffed. He didn’t share any history with this Zack, a fact which most Zacks tended to conveniently forget (or ignore), but the lingering wounds of his own Zack’s death made him willing to return the embrace and the words. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Zack finally let go, setting him down only to take his face in his hands in a surprisingly intimate gesture. He brushed his thumbs across the dark (and probably permanent by this point) circles beneath Cloud’s eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning in close. “You look like shit, babe.”

Oh boy. Cloud suddenly got the impression that he was missing some very critical pieces of information about the Cloud of this world. He’d also never been confronted by this particular issue before⁠—his mind went blank, which was unhelpful at best.

His expression must have been something to behold, because Zack immediately let go of his face and stepped back. “Oh,” he said, eyes wide, “oh, sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s uh⁠—” Was his face on fire? It felt like his face was on fire. “It’s fine. We⁠—I mean, you two were…?”

“Two?” Zack said, glancing at Sephiroth. “There were uh...a bit more than just us two involved?”

He stared. For once, something other than terror was steadily burning away his fog of tired apathy. “Sephiroth?” he squeaked. “We—I mean, you and him and Sephiroth?”

Then, to his shock (shock deep enough that his hand automatically jerked toward Tsurugi’s handle)  Sephiroth threw his head back and laughed. In fact, he laughed until he had to lean on his knees and tears streamed down his face. “Oh⁠—” he gasped, “oh it really is you, Cloud.”

Cloud looked to Zack for help, but the dark-haired man just grinned and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Me, and you, and Sephiroth,” he agreed. There was a mischievous gleam in his eye that immediately set Cloud on edge. “And... maybe one or two more.”

Sephiroth was still...giggling. Cloud didn’t think his eyes could get any wider without popping right out of his skull. “More? How many more? What the hell?”

“Oh man, is every version of you unbearably cute?” Zack cooed⁠—or maybe flirted, Cloud wasn’t exactly the best at differentiating⁠. “Dunno how you avoided it, but we five fell into each other like...gravity. It felt inevitable, really. You, me, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal.”

“I⁠—what? While I was at Shinra?” He and Zack hadn’t even met until the two commanders defected. A thought struck him. “Was I a SOLDIER?”

Both Zack and Sephiroth shot him odd looks. “Uh, ‘course? You were practically Shinra’s golden boy! Had a fanclub and everything!”

That explained it. Part of it. He didn’t understand why he felt like he’d dodged a bullet. “I never made it into SOLDIER. I was Infantry when we met for the first time.”

At his words, Sephiroth sobered back into the nearly emotionless mask Cloud was used to. “But you are enhanced, clearly. Based on the way you spoke, I would guess that you are enhanced to the same levels that Strife was.”

“Enhanced, yes.” Cloud smiled with bitter humor. “SOLDIER, no. This was Hojo’s doing. I caught his attention by killing my Sephiroth as an ‘unworthy little Infantry brat.’”

They both winced. “I’m...sorry,” Zack said, sincere and awkward. He glanced down, arm still heavy on Cloud’s shoulders. No one seemed inclined to continue that line of inquiry, which was fine by him. “Listen, I⁠—this is selfish of me to ask, but...you said you have a few hours before you leave, right?”

“Four, give or take,” Cloud confirmed. He’d been planning on stuffing himself into a nondescript hole somewhere to sleep, but he was willing to do a lot for Zack. “What is it?”

“Would you...would you come home with us? Not like that!” He added the second part when Cloud blanched and flushed crimson. “It’s just...the others, Gen and Ange, they….they deserve to see you too.”

“Zack…” Cloud sighed, “I’m not the Cloud you knew. You understand that, right?”

Zack’s lips pressed together. He stepped away, letting his hand slide over to rest on the top of Cloud’s shoulder even as he put some distance between them. “I do. I do get that. But you’re still...you. And you are...you’re sane. You’re...whole. It’s enough just to see you. Please. I know it’s selfish. You can say no, we’d still help you, but...” He reached out with his free hand and brushed a thumb over the dark circle under his eye for a second time. “You can just go right to sleep on the couch if you want. It’s enough just to see you. Please.”

He understood the impulse. Hadn’t he been thinking earlier about how soothing it felt just to see any version of Zack alive and happy? For some unfathomable reason, Cloud glanced over at Sephiroth. He nodded in agreement, an unfamiliar softness to the set of his eyes. Huh.

“Alright, Zack,” he said, relenting with a sigh. “I’ll sleep on your couch. All the...boyfriend wrangling is on you, though. I’m not much of a conversationalist even at the best of times.”

Zack just laughed, squeezing his shoulder once before letting go entirely. “I promise I’ll wrangle my boyfriends for you,” he said with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Cloud regretted his decision immediately.

#ask #fic reply #cursed to strife #ASGZC #cloud strife #zack fair #sephiroth #ff7 #aimeelouwrites #my fics

[merlevum]

Dormiens rex De Aurora

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum Characters: Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Nyx Ulric Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, cyrofreeze, cryovat Summary: Noctis and Gladiolus are forced into a cyrofreezing chamber to secure the future of a new dawn. What they don't realise, is that a thousand years is a long time and things have changed more than they originally thought. At least one mission remains the same: take back the crystal and wake the slumbering Astrals. That is if Noct and Gladio want to bring about the dawn again. They'll need a bit of help though. Perhaps not all hope is lost.

[Basically, what would happen if Gladio and Noctis end up frozen for a thousand years because Insomnia fell before the peace signing ever happened. Now Gladio and Noct are going to be picking up the pieces. I'm terrible at summaries.]

Iris laughed as Gladio choked on his dinner. It was just the two of them, sitting on a couch in an apartment. Nothing glamorous, but it was enough for what they needed. Everyone else part of the resistance was in the same boat, after all, living in abandoned apartments as the Niffs continued closing ranks.

They rebellion was all that was left to go against Niflheim. The abandoned apartments of Insomnia were perfect for hiding out. The streets and other buildings not being used for residency were useful for urban warfare. The remaining Kingsglaive would give the Niflheim a run for their money, and what Gladio would give to be right alongside them.

Over the course of the years, their numbers waned, and now it was just a handful of rebels left. The worst part of it all, their leader and rightful king of Lucis was killed earlier that weak. Moral was low and it was tough trying to keep everyone from sinking. Thankfully he had Iris there to remind him of why he was fighting and why they needed to pull through with this asinine plan. In truth, Gladio should have been with the prince, considering he was the prince’s shield, but things had changed.

“You have a what? Come on, Iris. You’re only now telling me?” Gladio sighed, forgetting about his meal for a moment as mediocre as it was. How could he know anything about a boyfriend when his sister just now told him that she was seeing someone for months.

“What? I couldn’t have told you till now. You’d go and find him and beat him up, Gladdy. I don’t want that,” she said, smirking. “Besides, you had more important things to deal with.”

Gladio could see it, the unshed tears starting to gloss his sister’s eyes as her smile wavered. Of course, she’d wait till the last fucking minute to tell him about a boyfriend. He had hardly been around to really be there for her in the last few months. Not with the Niffs drawing closer and closer and his detail of protecting the prince. Not to mention he and their dad were fighting about the cryofreeze they wanted to put him under in hopes of a better future.

‘You are a shield and part of the house Amicitia, Gladiolus. Start acting like it.’

Was his father’s way of saying there was nothing more to discuss, despite Gladio being old enough to make his own choices. But this decision was not coming from his father, it was coming from the head of the Kingsglaive along with the Crownsguard now. It was an order to a soldier and not a son. Perhaps he resented that part of his father, wishing that he wasn’t the head of the Kingsglaive and the one everyone was looking to for hope when the king fell.

The two hadn’t spoken since. Gladio too furious at his own dad for wanting to freeze him because of a prophecy their king had before his death, and Clarus-- well who knew what his dad was thinking.

“Nothing's more important than you, moogs,” Gladio reached over ruffled her hair. “But if he’s not treatin’ you right, you tell dad, yeah?”

She nodded, sniffling. “I-I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too, Iris. Me too. Trust me, if I didn’t have to, I would stay right here.” Gladio rubbed the back of his neck. He hated making his sister cry, or even just on the verge of tears. How was he supposed to protect anyone if he couldn’t even keep his kid sister from crying?

“I-I’ll write letters, and maybe even record something for you. You’ll just have to find it, kay?” Iris said, tears now spilling over her eyes.

She hiccuped before flinging her arms around Gladio and cried. He patted her head and held her. Even if she did those things, there was no telling if he’d actually be able to find them. But for her sake he nodded, afraid his voice would crack if he tried to speak. If only she could have come with him. She would have been able to keep him in check and give him something even worth fighting for, but it just wasn’t possible. Instead, it would just be him and Noct. He cleared his throat when she finally let go of him.

“Good. Now, did ya make your favourite brother dessert?”

Laughing, she shook her head with an apologetic look. “No. They didn’t have what I needed…..sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Gladio pushed his plate aside, no longer all that hungry.  

He hugged her once more, wanting to convey to her how much he loved her and that no matter the time or distance he always would. He practically raised her when their dad wasn’t around and now that things would only get worse from here on out, he didn’t want her to be alone. Holding her, he had a feeling it would be the last time he’d get a chance to do it. She would grow up while he remained a frozen corpse essentially until they woke him up again.

If he was ever woken up. This was more like a suicide mission really, if no one actually woke him or Noct back up. The thought sent a shudder through him. None of this was to his liking, but with his sister next to him, he finally drifted to sleep. They slept like that until Clarus came to fetch his son the next morning.

“Gladiolus,” Clarus started before sighing.

Gladio ignored him as they walked down the corridor that led to the cryovat chamber. They were several floors below the basement of a building that had served as some sort of science tech lab before Niflheim decided to invade. The way he saw it, the making of the cryovat made Gladio wonder if maybe this was a plan they had all along, since the beginning of the invasion. To throw the prince into a cryostasis because they fucked up too much to actually win. He knew he was being bitter and didn’t care.

“You know why you must be the one.” Clarus put a firm hand on Gladio’s shoulder, who was ready to all about shrug it off, but didn’t when he looked up at his dad. “Noct knows you. Your vats are synced up. If he wakes up, so do you and he’ll need you. Along with this.”

Clarus held up a ring. It was small in his father’s large hand. The metallic black held the image of the royal seal of Lucis. In the middle of the seal was an icy blue crystal. Gladio took it gingerly. The only way his dad could have gotten a hold of the ring was to be with King Regis when he died or sought the body after he was killed. Or had King Regis given Clarus the ring before he was killed? So many questions and there was hardly any time for answers. Whatever the answer was, he just hoped that Noct wouldn’t ask him later.

“That is the ring of Lucis and very important if you are going to help his high- his majesty win back the war later.” Gladio could see the pain behind his dad’s eyes. Noct was technically king now, not that the kid acted like it. Not yet anyway, but Gladio would help him. “Everything has been put in place, except your willingness to go.”

“Can you blame me?” Gladio asked shrugging out of his dad’s grip. He glanced to his dad as they made their way into the room that held the cryovat.

“No.”

Gladio sighed, stuffing the ring into the pocket of his pants, much his father’s chagrin. The air in the room was chilly, but he knew in moments he would be much colder. People flitted about, working on machines he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Not that it mattered. He didn’t really want to know what the hell they were doing; Gladio prefered the weight of metal in his hand or a good book. Would they have books when he woke up? He sure as hell hoped so. Maybe they should have packed some gear or something and left it in the room for them? Not like his dad actually told him the plan for how they were supposed to wake up aside from the fact they weregoing to wake up.  

“I’d rather stay and fight, but if Noct needs me fine. I’ll do this.” Gladio stripped himself of the jacket he wore and shirt, knowing that the pants and the shoes were about the only thing coming with him.

The tattoos he got when he joined the Kingsglaive and then later the Crownsguard were revealed. Nothing new to him and Clarus, Gladio could feel the technician’s gaze on his arms. The feather tattoos had been Nyx’s idea, and Gladio had to admit they were pretty nice to look at. What would the future think of his tattoos? Not that it mattered, they were more for him in the first place, just like his father had a pendant of his usual broadsword hanging around his neck. The technician applied pads to his chest when Clarus cleared his throat. Gladio distracted himself by looking at his dad.

“J-Just….keep everyone safe. Kay? And make sure you check on Iris every once in a while, she misses you.”

And I won’t be around to pick up the slack anymore.

“I’ll do my best Gladio.” Clarus came forward with quick strides when the technician was finished hooking Gladio up. He could feel his dad’s love through the hug, strong and a bit hesitant. Neither of them wanted this, but it was the only way to secure the future. Gladio just hoped he and Noct didn’t fuck it up. If they couldn’t do it now with his dad and Cor, he wasn’t so confident they could do it in the future either.

“I’ll do my best too...dad,” Gladio said, a lump forming in his throat.

“Time to--”

Sirens blared to life. Shit, Astrals take him, those fucking Niffs had somehow gotten into the cryovat building. Gladio made to grab for his clothes, screw being put into the cryovat. He would fight alongside his dad. They could put the ring in the cryovat alone for all he cared.  But Clarus held out a hand and shook his head.

“I’ll make sure they don’t get this far. Get into the vat, now.” Clarus assumed his role as head of the Kingsglaive and the Crownsguard. Gladio didn’t want to part like this, but the order was there and he had been raised to follow orders. “Please... So they can start the process. And Gladio….no matter what happens, I’m proud of you.”

Gladio bit back the tears, watching his dad walk away. Niflheim would pay for what they had done and going to do. Letting it all go, Gladio turned his attention to the machine that would be his home for an insurmountable time. It was large and rather crass compared to some of the tech Insomnia had produced in the past, but then this tech was still fairly new. The large chamber released small puffs of crystal air as it was opened. One of the techs helped him inside, hooking up the remainder of the cables to the machine. When everything was good, the door closed. It took all of Gladio’s will to push down the sudden fear of the enclosed space.

This wouldn’t be the end. He would get woken up again. He had a job to do and he was going to do it. Wait for Noct to wake the fuck up and then kick some ass. A cold crept through him as the air around him began to crystallize as if Shiva herself was freezing him. He watched outside the little window from the vat. He could see the technicians scurry this way and that, shouting something or other. The lights flickered, but the power to the vat stayed the same. Gladio wanted nothing more than to rip open the door, but when his hand went to feel for the handle, he quickly realised there was none. He was trapped until someone would open it for him.

Panicked, he tried to steady his breathing, but it hurt. Gods did it hurt. His breath came out in short bursts of crystallized air. Slowly his body began to shiver and after another minute or so, he couldn’t even feel his legs anymore. He didn’t dare look down at them, panic and fear making him wish he had never set foot in this damned thing. Instead, he focused on the commotion outside the window through his ragged breathing.

Right as his hands started to go numb, he saw it, his father come barreling through the door. Someone had pushed him. Rage and anger filled him, seeing his dad get tossed by some Niff trash. The old man had better get up. Some of the technicians pulled out weapons of their own, coming to his dad’s rescue. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move his hands to bang on the door of the vat, calling out to his dad.

It was just so damn hard to keep his eyes open.

Fucking Six.

It was just too damned cold.  

#ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #fanfic: dormiens rex de aurora #gladnis