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rabid-heart · 3 years

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The Things Left Unsaid

For @sefikuraweek 2021 Day 6 - Prompt: Hanahaki

Because they say it is the greatest act of love to die for another. And while Sephiroth knows nothing of love, death is something he is intimately familiar with.

A dark version of a Nibelheim fix-it fic.

Rating: Mature Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death, Suicide.

I wrote this when I was in a pretty dark place and while I found that therapeutic, it might not be so for others. Please, take care of yourself and do not read if you find such content triggering.

If you are struggling and need help, please reach out to someone. You matter and you are important!

National Suicide Prevention Line

Read on Ao3 | Previous Day’s Post

He had made the choice easily, instinctually, like breathing, like blinking, like waking.

It hurt, at first, the stinging in his wrists and in his abdomen lightning up his whole body, crackling through his mind. But there had been a twisted relief in that anguish, because for the first time in months, his chest did not feel like it was going to burst open, and his throat did not cut with the sharpness of the thorns. Instead, the last flowers that emerged did so more smoothly, almost painlessly, as if the blood seeping out of him now had dragged out with it the final vestiges of his pain.

Absently, Sephiroth reaches for a petal of one such flower now, the weakness in his fingers barely registering in some tiny corner of his mind. When he did cough up roses, they were always white, but these petals are now painted red by his own blood. It is almost a laughable sight. If they had been truly red, the symbol of love, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps the paths that he had left to choose from would have been less crooked, less treacherous, and perhaps he would have allowed himself to hope for a different life.

Or perhaps not. After all, Sephiroth never learned the right words to say, the right actions to take to express his feelings, let alone understand them properly, because he had been trained since birth to believe himself incapable of feeling at all. And yet, the moment Sephiroth saw Cloud Strife and looked into those brilliant blue eyes, the impossible sentiments began to stir within him. They grew, unremitting and unforgiving, with each fleeting moment he shared with the blond, with each accidental touch, each passing glance into those eyes. They had spent relatively little time alone together – usually, Zack Fair would be with them, watching their interactions with a cautious and knowing gaze. But the brief words exchanged, the occasional meals shared at Zack’s apartment, the handful of impromptu training sessions – each second added to an inexorable pressure in his heart that rendered even breathing difficult. But even then, Sephiroth still did not understand, had not the proper experience or vocabulary to name what was happening to him, what was stirring in his chest.

Not until the flowers began their relentless march up his throat.

And then, it became momentously clear. He had seen the effects of hanahaki disease before, watched it nearly rip Angeal apart as the man agonized over his feelings for Genesis. In the end, those feelings had been Angeal’s downfall, motivating him to follow a man who had lost his heart to anger and betrayal and rage, until he could not follow anymore. From that example, Sephiroth knew, as soon as he clutched his own spit-covered petals in his hands, what message they meant to carry, what truth they told, and what fate they had assigned him.

Somehow, someway, he had fallen in love with Cloud Strife. And because Sephiroth knows no other way to express those thoughts than through the edge of his sword, it would most certainly be the death of him.

And thus, it this denouement feels inevitable.

The basement library is cold and damp and growing even colder. The lone ceiling light sways above him, flickering from years of disuse. On the shelves, the books begin to blur, the titles on their spines now indecipherable. And on the ground, Sephiroth sits, his famous sword resting beside him, the silver edge mixed with red. The stone floor beneath him is littered with his petals, stained with his blood. All there is now is to await the fate he had chosen, walk to the end of the path selected from the crossroads that had unfurled itself to Sephiroth when the truth of his existence was finally revealed.

Because if Genesis’s poisonous words in that reactor were correct, if the records and books housed in this abandoned corner of Nibelheim were to be believed – then there remained only two destinies for him. Sephiroth could give into the soft whispering in his mind, cajoling him to fulfill a fate of catastrophe and calamity, promising him a demon mother’s love and an ascended existence free from the shackles that fettered him to this painful human life. It had been such a lovely thought, and for a moment, he had almost allowed himself to make that choice.

But then, the consequences of what that decision would mean for the only thing his heart truly yearned for wrenched in his chest with another coughing spell. The petals that he choked up afterward, that were then strewn on the wooden table amongst the pages of the open books, were yellow like Cloud’s hair, like the sunshine of a bright and beautiful day. All at once, the horror of crushing a world capable of crafting such perfection wrecked through Sephiroth’s body. With that recognition and its impending implications, he had stumbled backward, collapsed on the floor against the closest bookshelf, and sobbed, freely and openly, in a manner he had not been able to since he was a child.

He found then that he could not fathom it, the utter destruction the voice in his head demanded. This was the town that Cloud grew up in, that his mother lived in. Sephiroth had destroyed before, villages and homes, an entire nation, and yet, this was something he felt he lacked the requisite will to execute. The realization ran counter to every instinct for death he had been schooled in since youth, the dissonance threatening to split his mind and his heart in half. He wanted to say no. He needed to. And yet, Sephiroth knew, despite the wild beating in his heart, that he could not resist the darkness now crawling inside him for long.

But then, it clicked. There was an easy way to resolve the conflict, one that would both free him from this pain, and that would allow him to render his feelings true and real, in the only way Sephiroth knew how.

Because they say it is the greatest act of love to die for another. And while Sephiroth knows nothing of love, death is something he is intimately familiar with.

He can feel the old friend coming for him now, surrounding him like angel’s wings with a foreign and dangerous warmth. The light above him becomes hazier, his breathing slower and calmer, the flower petals in his fingers lighter and redder. It is time. Sephiroth summons every last bit of his strength to his mind, to imagine the lightness of Cloud’s hair, the vividness of Cloud’s eyes, the softness of Cloud’s skin, because he knows Cloud is the last thing he wants to feel before the end.

And yet, the thought of never bearing witness to such sweetness again manages to bring back some semblance of the old pain. A familiar tightness in his chest begins to build. The air feels too tight in his throat, like choking, like drowning, except now, the frantic rush and fear that normally accompanied such episodes eludes him. Curiously, some part of Sephiroth still clinging on recognizes that what lodges in his body does not feel like flower petals. Instead, it feels like words, heavy with regret and with sorrow, thrashing out against the inevitable darkness that threatens to seal them away. He knows what words they are too – because they are exactly what Sephiroth had thought he would never understand, what he believed he would never be able to say. Until this, his final moment.

There is no one to hear him now. With one last breath, one last tear, he lets go.

“I love you.”

---

When Zack and Cloud find Sephiroth – or more accurately, his body – the blood has dried the flower petals around the man to the point that they are brittle to the touch. It takes some time for them to register what had happened, but the traces of hanahaki, the slit-open wrists, the stab wound in the stomach, the dirtied edge of Masamune – they all say what needs to be said.

It is what remains unspoken, unheard that matters. But now, it is too late.

Cloud kneels down, strokes the cold skin of that perfect face, brushes back errant strands of silver hair with tender fingers.

“He never said anything,” he whispers, his hands shaking. “I thought—I thought…”

Zack closes his eyes. “Cloud, I am so sorry.”

And that is enough. Cloud buries his head into the crook of that shoulder and begins to weep, for all the things left unsaid.

#sefikuraweek #sefikura week day 6 #prompt - hanahaki #sefikura #sephiroth #cloud strife #cw: suicide #tw: suicide

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meleficar · 4 years

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"Only death awaits you all. But do not fear, for it is through death that a new spirit energy is born. Soon, you will live again as a part of me." - Sephiroth

#safer sephiroth #sephiroth #sephiroth ff7 #sephiroth ffvii #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ff7 fanart #fanart #videogames #video game art

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sephirothism · 4 years

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Out of curiosity, where did you get the quote, "Only death awaits you." on the Sephiroth and Cloud gifs?

oh! it’s actually a quote from the original game, which is what i get a decent amount of them for my gifsets cause there aren’t a ton from the remake. it’s during temple of the ancients, a flashback where seph talks to tseng (and presumably kills him but then he comes back in AC so...)

“Only death awaits you all. But do not fear.

For it is through death that a new spirit energy is born. Soon, you will live again as a part of me.”

^ full quote!

#rambled more than u need but. yknow #asks

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hugo-the-starving-artist · 5 years

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“Only death awaits you all, but do not fear. For it is through death that a new spirit energy is born. Soon, you will live again as a part of me. “

One of my favorite Sephiroth quotes!

This piece was a comission for @ phantomblack05 (go check out her tumblr, there is a lot of great art on it!) I had a lot of fun while doing it. There is just something about FFVII that always brings me so much joy ;_;

The remake can’t come soon enough!

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incorrectsmashbrosquotes · 5 years

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Destiny Arrives

*The Halberd is an absolute wreck as shots are still fired at it from the Death Egg, the LoV having boarded and either beaten or killed most on board. Only a scant number of survivors remain, Sephiroth stepping over an injured Shadow the Hedgehog and speaking in a mocking tone.*

Sephiroth: Hear me, and rejoice. You have had the privilege of being saved by the Great Gerudo King. You may think this is suffering… No. It is salvation. Universal scales tip toward balance because of your sacrifice. Smile…

(Chara stabs one of the remaining Hylians, Bowser and Phosphora standing among the League as Sephiroth continues his speech)

Sephiroth: For even in death, you have become children…of Ganondorf.

(Hilda gives a hateful glare toward Sephiroth, then watches as Ganondorf stands shrouded in shadow, looking out the large window of the bridge with a semi conscious Link on the floor just behind him)

Ganondorf: I know what it’s like to lose. To feel so desperately that you’re right… yet to fail, nonetheless. (picks Link up by his Champion’s Tunic, Link struggling feebly) It’s frightening. Turns the legs to jelly. I ask you, to what end? Dread it. Run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. And now, it’s here. Or should I say… (Ganondorf brandishes his gauntlet, revealing that he once again possesses the Triforce of Power) I am?

Link: (eyes barely open, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth) You talk too much…

(Ganondorf grabs Link by the head with one hand, looking at Hilda)

Ganondorf: The Triforce of Courage, or your brother’s head. I assume you have a preference.

(Sephiroth smirks at Hilda while Phosphora and Chara stand ready to fight, while Bowser simply looms with his arms folded across his chest, all awaiting Hilda’s move)

Hilda: Oh, I do. Kill away!

(Ganondorf looks surprised at first, but smiles all the same as he brings his Triforce wielding fist toward Link’s head. Raw power begins to surge through him, Link fighting at first but quickly losing and beginning to hoarsely scream in anguish. Realizing her bluff was called, Hilda loses face and quickly gives in)

Hilda: …ALRIGHT, STOP!

(Ganondorf ceases his torment, Link immediately speaking up)

Link: We don’t have the Triforce of Courage. It was destroyed on Hyrule.

(Hilda gives Link a knowing, sheepish look, and then she holds her hand out. Soon, before everyone’s eyes, the Triforce of Courage materializes in her hand)

Link: (disappointed but not surprised) You…really are the worst, sister.

Hilda: (steps forward, not taking her eyes off Link, now being her turn to reassure him) I assure you, brother. The sun will shine on us once again.

Ganondorf: (gives a low laugh) Your optimism is misplaced, Hylian.

Hilda: (glares at Ganondorf) Well, for one thing, I’m not a Hylian. (notes the brief confusion in Ganondorf’s face) And for another… (smirks with a wicked glint in her eye) We have a Doom Slayer.

???: RIP AND TEAR!!!

(A figure on par with Ganondorf in size and stature comes out of nowhere and slams into his side, knocking Ganondorf off his feat and clear across the room as Hilda dives to catch Link and dropping the Triforce. As Ganondorf gets to his feat, the figure is revealed to be the Doom Slayer, known to his friends simply as “Doomguy.”)

Doomguy: RIP AND TEAR! RIP AND TEAR YOUR GUTS! (immediately begins to pummel Ganondorf, quickly getting him on the ropes) You’re HUGE! That means you have HUGE GUTS!!!

(Doomguy continues the savage, relentless beating and pins Ganondorf to a wall, both his hands wrapped around the Demon King’s neck. Bowser steps in to intervene, but Sephiroth stops him without a hint of concern)

Sephiroth: Let him have his fun.

(Ganondorf soon breaks the stranglehold, Doomguy surprised as he fights with all his might and anger, yet Ganondorf overpowers him and lands a crippling punch to the demon slayer’s throat, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Doomguy tries to fight back, but Ganondorf counters every attempted punch and lands his own attacks to many pressure points, Doomguy’s armor cracking and breaking off at certain spots. Finally a blow to the face renders Doomguy limp and his visor cracked, Ganondorf hoisting the fabled Doom Slayer above his head before finally slamming him down to the floor. The Doom Slayer is out cold. Out of desperation, Link rushes toward Ganondorf and hits him with a piece of steel scrap from the ship…only for it to break harmlessly over his shoulder. Ganondorf responds with a swift kick, sending Link flying backwards and into scrap steel bindings that Sephiroth prepared telepathically. Shadow, looking at Link and using the last of his energy, brandishes his Chaos Emerald and sets his sights upon Doomguy)

Shadow: Chaos…CONTROL!

(A rainbow beam is summoned that overtakes Doomguy and transports him back to Smash World, out of Ganondorf’s reach. Perturbed, Ganondorf takes Chara’s knife and walks toward Shadow)

Ganondorf: That was a mistake.

(Shadow gives Link one last, knowing look as Ganondorf stabs him through the heart)

Link: Noooooo!!!

(Ganondorf runs the knife further through, Shadow dropping the Chaos Emerald as the ultimate life form draws his last breath)

Link: (in anguish) You’re going to die for that! (Sephiroth waves his hand and wraps Link’s mouth shut with bits of scrap)

Sephiroth: (brings his fingers to his lips) Shhhh… (walks over and picks up the Triforce of Courage, then gets down on one knee and presents it to Ganondorf) Here you go big guy, your own personal bling. (Ganondorf begins to shed his battle armor, save for a select few pieces that leave him in a more casual look) On behalf of demons, devils, and monster everywhere, I am happy to give this to you... my King. (Ganondorf takes the Triforce of Courage and holds it in his hand, admiring it) The multiverse…lays within your grasp.

(Ganondorf combines the two Triforce pieces and a bright flash of light nearly blinds everyone, Ganondorf grimacing as the raw power surges through him. Soon, he adapts, and he looks immensely satisfied. He admires the two pieces glowing in his hand, and only one more to go)

Ganondorf: There are two shards of the Triforce of Wisdom on Smash World. (Looks at the present members of the LoV) Find them, and meet me on Arbiter’s Grounds.

(The league, save for Bowser, bows to Ganondorf)

Phosphora: Father, we will not fail you.

Hilda: If I may interject. (steps in, breaking the groveling up) If you’re going to Smash World, you’re going to need a guide. I do have a bit of… (bites her lip) experience in that arena.

Ganondorf: If you consider failure experience.

Hilda: I consider experience experience. (begins walking toward Ganondorf with a regal gait) Almighty Ganondorf. I, Hilda, Princess of Lorule… (looks over at Link, still bound) …Hyliakin. The rightful Queen of Lorule…Sage of Michief… (Link notices that Hilda is discreetly holding a dagger out of Ganondorf’s sight) do hereby pledge, to you…my…undying fidelity.

(Hilda bows…then makes her move, lunging upward to stick the dagger right into Ganondorf’s throat…only to freeze in place and stay motionless thanks to Ganondorf’s newfound power, the demon king smirking at her)

Ganondorf: Undying… (grabs Hilda’s arm, making her drop the dagger) You should choose your words more carefully.

(Ganondorf releases Hilda from his power, but not before grabbing her by the neck and lifting her off her feet, choking her as she struggles for her life and Link looks on horror struck. He struggles against his binds, but they do not give. Despite her position, Hilda stares into the demon king’s eyes and says her last, spiteful words)

Hilda: (breathless) You will…never be…….a god.

(Ganondorf gives Hilda an amused look as he increases his grip and squeezes the life from Hilda. Link screams through his steel gag, tears running down his face. Still holding Hilda’s limp, lifeless body, Gandonforf looks at Link and slowly steps toward him before dropping her at his knees)

Ganondorf: No resurrections this time.

(Ganondorf uses his power to completely decimate what remains of the Halberd, sending it on a course for destruction before teleporting himself and the LoV away. Link’s binding’s finally release him, leaving the hero to do nothing but crawl toward his fallen adoptive sibling and sadly embrace her)

Link: No…Hilda…

(Link lays his head into her shoulder as the Halberd finally explodes. Meanwhile, as Doomguy hurdles through time and space, Palutena and Rodin are descending the stairs of the Smash Mansion foyer as they discuss a vitally important topic; lunch)

Palutena: Seriously? You don’t have any money?

Rodin: Attachment to the material is detachment from the spiritual.

Palutena: (rolls her eyes) I’ll tell the guy’s at Tapper’s. Maybe they’ll make you a metaphysical ham and rye.

Rodin: Wait wait wait, I think I have 200.

Palutena: Gold coins?

Rodin: (smiles sheepishly) Zenny.

Palutena: Which is?

Rodin: (shrugs) A buck and a half?

Palutena: (sighs, realizing she’ll have to spot for him) What do you want?

Rodin: (feeling only just slightly guilty) I wouldn’t say no to a tuna melt.

(Suddenly a loud, massive crash and a giant rainbow beam burst through the roof of the Smash Mansion and through the stairway, Palutena and Rodin preparing themselves for battle and rushing to the new hole in the staircase. It’s then, to their surprise, they see Doomguy in the bottom of the hole, his armor damaged, his helmet gone, and a look on his face that nobody had ever seen in him before; fear.)

Doomguy: (grunts, panting) Ganondorf is coming…he’s coming…

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up-sideand-down · 5 years

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Back to the start

On the first day of April, Cloud was destined to reject a man, who would later murder her, for the first time. She wouldn’t think anything of it. April first was an important day for the temple, and as the Shrine Maiden she had a lot to prepare for that day. Most people in this village didn’t care much for the Temple of Aeris, but they liked April 1st. Aeris might care more for nature, but she was also a trickster at heart. April 1st was the time she woke up, and she had to make up for all those lost tricks during winter. Everyone was allowed to join in, so long as it was good natured.

The temple was cleaned and ready for people to come in and decide who had become Aeris’s Fool. And Cloud had a very long day sorting through offerings and watching out for tricks on her (since she was the biggest target today). She really didn’t have the time to respond to Weiss’s advances, nor did she really want to. She didn’t think twice about rejecting him. He hadn’t even begun to show his mean streak.

The first time Cloud had lived through this year, Weiss had accepted her refusal. It sat angrily in his stomach, growing bigger each time she would tell him no. Cloud wouldn’t know that.

What neither of them knew was that Cloud wasn’t alone for that year. A benevolent presence, never far away, but who would be devastated in the year to come.

And that was why this time, things would not go according to destiny.

Instead of walking straight back to the temple, Cloud stopped when she heard someone stumbling around in the woods.

“Hello?” she asked. She wasn’t afraid. More worried about the pranks starting early and someone getting the drop on her.

When they emerged she did scream.

When Cloud’s mother arrived, Cloud was leaning over the stranger.

“He just…fell,” Cloud said. Her mother helped Cloud turn him over.

He looked young, far too young for how beaten he looked. Scratches from branches and what looked like a wild animal covered his arms and legs. Bruises were all along him as well. His clothes were in tatters. A long cut was etched along his face and over his left eye. The only think that looked fine was his hair, long and silver and tied up behind his head.

In his hand, he held a long stick. As Cloud tried to take it, it became unsheathed. It was a sword. Cloud looked to her mother warily.

“We’ll take him into the temple until he wakes up,” she said.

He woke hours later. He didn’t thrash or turn, just groaned softly and tried to sit up. He didn’t open his eyes. Cloud sat back from where she was trying to change his bandages.

“Where…where am I?” he asked. His voice was deep, but very soft. Cloud had a feeling she had nothing to fear from him.

“You’re in a Temple of Aeris,” Cloud said, “We’re taking care of you. It looks like you’re going to be fine.”

“What…happened?” he asked.

“I was hoping you would know,” Cloud said, “You fell out of the woods, gave me a terrible fright.”

“I remember walking…” the man started. He paused a moment. “Sorry to have frightened you.”

“It’s alright,” she said, “You should go back to sleep.” He laid back down.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“I’m Cloud,” she said, “What about you?” He was quiet for a long time.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, and then he was asleep again.

Cloud’s mother took over watching the young man.

“Go out,” she said, “I’ll watch him…and this is your favorite holiday.” And Cloud did. She laughed and ran from children wanting to attach simple insults to her back. Or teenagers with a mean streak who had buckets of water to splash her with, as well as quite a few adults with terrible puns to share, but every now and then she would turn back to the temple and frown.

Everywhere there was chatter about the stranger who arrived. The Temple was for adventurers, travelers, and pilgrims to rest. Aeris’s famous story was about her own adventure to find her birthplace and her devotees would follow her trail to each of her Temples. This man did not seem to be one of them. Cloud heard them whisper about criminals, but she somehow doubted this man was one.

When the sun set and the villagers left to continue celebrating in their own homes, Cloud closed the temple and went to see her charge once again.

“Is that you Cloud?” he asked as she entered.

“Yes,” she said, “are you feeling better?”

“Much,” he said, “I cannot begin to thank the two you for taking me in like this.” He was sitting up again. His head did’t move as she sat next to him.

“Do you remember anything else?” Cloud asked, “where you came from…if you have family.” He shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said, “which is a terrible shame…except…I think I remember you.”

“Me?” Cloud said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“I don’t think you did either,” he said, “but I remember your voice.” That made more sense.

“I am the Shrine Maiden here,” Cloud said, “I’ve taken the pilgrimage at least a dozen times and helped out at other temples. Perhaps you saw me there…I see so many people on those trips.”

“I think…perhaps that’s it,” he said.

“If you are a devotee to Aeris…perhaps she led you here for safety,” Cloud’s mother said, “she always does take care of her own.”

“I don’t know,” the man said, “though…I think I’ve always liked Aeris.”

“Thinking you like her is good enough in her book most of the time,” Cloud’s mother said. Cloud noticed his eyes were open. She had seen someone whose eyes had clouded over like that once before.

“You can’t see,” Cloud said.

“I’m afraid not,” he said, “but I can hear you all just fine.”

“You poor thing,” Cloud said.

“And I don’t want to crowd you two out of your own temple,” the man said, “But I’ve no money to speak of and going from how Ms. Claudia described how I showed up here…I don’t think anyone is going to take me in for nothing.” Cloud looked to her mother who nodded.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” she said. He smiled for the first time.

“Thank you.”

The first time around…Aeris wept when Cloud died. She felt it like a knife to her heart the moment the girl was gone. She hadn’t cried so much since her own mother was killed. Only months later would people note how much rain was coming down…too much rain. It killed the crops and drowned animals close by.

They’d only realize it was Aeris’s grief after they blamed her for Cloud’s death. Cloud had been one of her most devoted followers. She had been almost her entire life. From the age she could walk, she found beauty and wonder in Aeris’s domain and Aeris had thanked her in turn as best she could. But she could not stop Cloud’s death. Could not stop the hands of men from destroying the things she loved most. If they knew her teachings…then they would know that.

Her grief nearly washed into rage when the town leaders tried to hush it up. Attempted to not find the man who had done this. Lucky for them one of their daughters knocked sense into him.

“A Shrine Maiden was murdered,” Tifa Lockheart said, “Everyone knows they are the most innocent of all of us…the ones we all look to in times of trouble. You can’t ignore it…the other temples would curse us. Aeris would curse us! Cloud didn’t ask to die. She didn’t ask for any of this. She just wanted to do her life’s work…and now she can’t.”

Tifa grieved the loss of a girl she considered a friend…and Aeris started to forgive.

But like Cloud’s mother she would not forget. The poor woman was inconsolable. When Priestesses from other temples came to give Cloud her last rights, Claudia’s wails echoed through the valley. When Cloud’s funeral ended. Claudia spent many hours at her grave, begging any god to bring her daughter back.

But her temple remained pristine. Aeris saw to that. The villagers would note it once again, when it was much too late to be seen as the miracle it was.

But Aeris felt the tugs of grief still. Cloud, stubborn girl she was, refused to leave. Day after day, she tried to comfort her mother, the few friends she had, with only her soul.

Finally, Aeris came to comfort her alocyte’s soul herself…and she saw a miracle.

She knew Sephiroth, appreciated his work. Jenova was rightly feared, but her son was more so. Despite all that, Sephiroth was kind to the mortals in his care. He cared for the lost ones, the ones who could not bear to leave. He was gentle, persuasive, and above all very determined. He’d never left anyone behind. It was his job.

Aeris saw this same god, the god of lost souls, carrying her beloved child in his arms, telling her she must go.

“You are awaited,” he told her, “same as yesterday.”

“But I can’t!” Cloud sobbed, “they still need me. Can’t you see…they aren’t moving on!” And Aeris saw this god, close his eyes and set her back down. She saw his expression when he turned his back to Cloud…

…And Aeris got an idea.

#my writing #au idea #cloud strife #sephiroth #eventual sefikura #character death #undoing death #memory loss #blindness #murder #aerith gainsborough #tifa lockhart #not sure if I'm going to keep weiss #thinking on it #not sure if i will continue this either #but I like what I have here.

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leonchiro · 6 years

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“Only death awaits you all. But do not fear. For it is through death that a new spirit energy is born. Soon, you will live again as a part of me.” — Sephiroth, Final Fantasy Dissidia NT Photo by @muffin_geek_production PS : The Fire Sparkles were real. Make sure you check the backstage video too! 💥❤️ #Sephiroth #Cloud #Puppet #FinalFantasy #FFVII #LeonChiro #OneWingedAngel #Dissidia #DissidiaNT #Jenova #Cosplay #Model #Villain #SuperNova #Boss #Art #SquareEnix #Motivation #Materia #Masamune #PhotoOfTheDay #Cosplayer #Videogame #Playstation #RealLife #Interpretation #Heart (presso Warsaw, Poland) https://www.instagram.com/p/BnS7sVLnzxE/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=4wco2kq7jefa

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leonawriter · 6 years

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To Change A Sombre Morrow

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Characters: Genesis, Sephiroth, Angeal, Cloud.

Pairings: None.

Summary: The gift of the goddess could be argued to take on many forms, it was said. Genesis had already experienced it in the form of a second chance once, when he had asked and expected it. This time, his second chance was far less obvious, far more time consuming, and had a great many more far-reaching consequences.

Perhaps this time, his role could be the hero, even with the goddess as his only witness.

...

The last thing he saw was blinding light, and deep within it, the impression of her face - the face of the goddess herself, her immaculate beauty something that he had never forgotten in all this time, smiling at him - encouraging him. It was an indulgence... but also a challenge.

He understood her expressions as well now as he had before, when that one disappointed look had made it clear that the one thing that had kept him going for the past six years had been wrong, that he had not been the hero, that he had never been the hero, only mistaking himself as such as he walked further into a prison of his own making, and required someone such as Zack Fair, a disgraced fugitive who no longer even had any reason to have a positive tie to ShinRa, to remind him what his pride as a SOLDIER even was.

Then, even her face was lost to him as he fell, the pure white of her holy light fading into the more natural blue of a clear day, not a cloud in sight.

The wind whistled in his ears, and for a moment he thought that he could hear something, a sound in the distance, but the wind took it away from him. Whatever was happening, it was no matter to him, no business of his-

Closer.

The wind turned. Smoke - something that smelled of burned metal and sparks flying.

He was holding his sword. The feeling of its weight in his hand a reflex as he tightened what had been a loosened grip on the weapon he had lost so recently.

"-Genesis!"

His name, he realised as he fixed his freefall into something more manageable. And spoken by one whose voice he would know anywhere.

The lifestream? No, something else!

He wasn't dead yet. There was something he had to do - if there were not, then what else had the Goddess wanted of him?

"-ephiroth, stop this! Something's wrong!"

His mind shuddered, instincts taking over from a trained swordsman's technique and finesse, that and the fact that his body knew how to fight even when his mind was no longer there.

Something he had become intimately acquainted with, recently, and had no desire to return to, even for one moment.

Sephiroth.

Silver hair and silver sword appeared, green eyes glinting at him as though he had called them with the thought of the name. His world narrowed down to one thing - the man in front of him. No other sounds, no other opponents.

They had been friends, once. Genesis was no longer fool enough to say that he had no fault in their downfall, the three of them. He had been afraid, and desperate, and full of self-loathing. A dangerous combination.

His own sword rang out against Sephiroth's Masamune, and if he noted that the man was being more reserved than usual, the words he was using seeming more curious, as if to test him rather than taunt him, then that merely helped him focus better on what he was doing.

His feet touched something solid - not ground, at least he didn't think so, but it gave cease to the sensation of falling, and as they stared at each other, Genesis' mako-blue eyes meeting Sephiroth's Jenova-green, it almost seemed as though time stood still, or slowed down, even though he knew that no Slow spell had been cast.

A third sword was added to their stand-off. Lesser quality, something that was bound not to last.

He didn't pay it any attention, just as he hadn't for quite some time now - and that was his downfall.

Something changed, and time began moving normally again, but somehow he was now gasping on the floor (a floor, a flat surface, not something found and hollow) and blinking in the bright lights (electric, with no blue sky in sight) and, worst of all-

His hand reached for his shoulder, and came away red.

He'd been here before. This room. This fight. This injury - he'd been here before.

The goddess, looking at him with encouragement and indulgence in her eyes - but also a challenge.

He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his vision blurring at the edges in the aftermath of being thrown into what his body had been convinced was the middle of a life-or-death match, and then forcibly brought back down to earth again.

"My friend, do you fly away now? To a world that abhors you and I?"

His lips opened to mouth the words, but he was uncertain whether he ended up speaking them loudly enough for even a SOLDIER's hearing to pick up before the darkness took him.

All that awaits you is a sombre morrow, no matter where the winds may blow...

He wished, a fleeting thing, that the goddess was more prone to communicating in more than expressions and deeds.

...

"If you could go back. To the past, and change even one thing... would you?"

The sun had been rising - a new dawn over the ruins of Midgar. And yet, even with the light hitting the fallen buildings, only a rare few times had it ever appeared even slightly like nothing had changed.

The place had been levelled during Meteorfall, and become a literal war zone when the WRO had waged their war against Deepground.

They were both sitting at the edge of a building, the height not holding any threat for either of them. For Genesis especially, he had lost the remainder of his fear of high places and falling when he had first learned that he could fly.

He turned to Cloud, who was staring resolutely forward and toward the sky, one boot lightly kicking the bricks of the roof they were on, as though he hadn't just asked that kind of question.

Genesis had smiled, then.

"My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment. To find the end of the journey in my own salvation, and your eternal slumber."

Perhaps it was right, that they would be the ones to ask such things of each other. Everyone else was gone. Everyone who had been involved to that degree, at least. And no one else had quite the same experience with questioning their own humanity, and coming out somehow cracked and broken in places, but still in one piece, more or less. Despite everything, neither of them had truly lost who they were.

"Does that mean you would, or... you think you've done enough?"

Cloud, Genesis had slowly started to realise, was the kind of person who didn't really care for the art of drama, but never said that Genesis was taking the play too seriously, or too far - but he also questioned what Genesis' intent was. Something that not many had thought to ask.

He reached up to flick a few errant hairs out of his eyes, and watched as the sun's rays reached the Shinra building itself at long last, the reds and yellows of daybreak making it seem almost as though the building were on fire.

Fleetingly, he wished that it were, and he had been the one to set that fire. It would have been satisfying.

"I have regrets enough that there's plenty I'd change. If the opportunity presented itself, of course. And yet, those regrets are in the past, along with everything that caused them. For myself, there is nothing I would go to such drastic measures for." He turned back to Cloud, smile on his face once again. "And you? You were the one to bring this up, were you not? You owe me an answer of your own."

Cloud ducked his head, and Genesis almost - almost - regretted having asked. A shadow fell over them for just a moment, before the blond not-SOLDIER smiled again.

"I'd never be done with just one thing, if it was to make the future better for everyone. But... all the people I care about are safe and okay, and things are improving." Cloud's shoulders shrugged, awkward as a teenaged trooper even though he was in his twenties now. "So, I'm okay with things as they are."

...

"-can't say you didn't notice something wrong. You could have stopped, like I was trying to tell you to."

Reality came back to him lazily, with muted voices sounding as though they were being heard through a great distance, but up close at the same time.

"I did notice. And I deemed it unwise to simply 'stop', as you would have had me done. What would have happened then, Angeal? Two of us injured, instead of just one." The old pain in Genesis' shoulder spiked with Sephiroth's voice, although something was wrong about it - almost as though it had been reopened, like an enemy picking at an old weak spot.

It wasn't just that, though. Something about Sephiroth's voice sounded off-

"You're saying-?"

"Some trauma he had preferred not to speak of, for the sake of his pride, perhaps? Whatever the cause, our fight turned from a training room spar, to..."

Realisation struck him like a blow to the chest, along with all of the disjointed memories of the events leading up to his falling unconscious in such a way. He gasped, cutting off whatever Angeal might have said in response.

His attempt to sit up on his own was hindered by Angeal's hand on his good shoulder. No longer in the midst of a fight for what he had believed was for his very life, he had the first chance to take the time to understand what this meant - this was Angeal as he remembered him, with no pale hair and no ashen complexion. No white wing flaring out on one side.

The Buster Sword, still attached to his back.

There are no dreams, no honour remains... the words no longer held the weight they once had. The arrow had not yet left the bow of the goddess.

"You know, I wonder if Sephiroth might be right. First that fight, now this - you should talk to someone about this. One of us, or one of the psychiatrists. It is their job, after all. And maybe get someone to have a look at that shoulder and-"

Genesis didn't even let him finish, eyes narrowing as he shoved Angeal out of his way in order to not only sit properly, but also stand. A fainting spell was humiliating for a decorated SOLDIER First Class, but he was no invalid. Even suffering from the later stages of degradation, he had never been that.

"No."

They both turned to look at him, and perhaps it should have hurt how alien an expression of honest concern was on Sephiroth's face, after so long of either expecting it to be nothing but pity, complete disinterest, or only the slightest attempt at pretending that even a drop of compassion could exist.

"If it is for your own good," Sephiroth said slowly - cautiously, unmoving - with that same expression still on his face, "then you are the only one that you are inconveniencing by choosing to decline."

"The last thing that I want, or would be good for me, is the idea of being poked at, and especially not by scientists."

Being at Hollander's mercy for the better part of seven years purely on the desperate chance that the scientist would find a cure for the degradation had been bad enough, especially on the realisation that no cure was forthcoming. Then, despite his hope that his restoration at the hand of the goddess would be the end of his trials... Deepground had taken him.

He had had far more than enough of scientists for one lifetime.

It was the slight widening of Sephiroth's eyes, the minute nod, that put him off balance, however. Even remembering what he knew of his... friend's past, he hadn't expected to be reminded of it in such a human way, opposed to the wings of destruction and control that he had become accustomed to.

"Very well then. As long as that is your decision."

And then both he and Angeal were staring after Sephiroth's back as the silver-haired general swept out of the training room as the repair techs started to file in, fire extinguishers in hand.

It'll heal up soon enough, he told Angeal on the way out, using all of his willpower to not put his hand to the old (new) wound. We've all of us had worse on the battlefield. This is nothing.

The words turned to ash in his mouth. Pretty little lies. A dramatic sort of poetry, in that it was almost as though he were repeating a previous verse, but this was his life, and not a poem, or script, except in one way - that like LOVELESS, what had once been his immutable past was now open to... variation.

...

AN: Okay so this came about because I love time travel fics and I love FF7 time travel fics but although I love Cloud time travelling my mind threw up but 'what if it was Genesis instead' - partially, I wonder, because I'd been having a hard time imagining any Sephiroth from the future regaining himself enough to want to change the past for the *better*.

I have a few vague ideas for the missing adventure that Genesis will be referring to occasionally, but it might just be small scenes and glimpses into what goes on, rather than a long-term thing.

As for the main story itself, I've got a specific idea of where I want to go with it in some places, but as for others it might have a few time skips.

#final fantasy VII #ff7 #ff7 stuff #genesis rhapsodos #Leona fic #to change a sombre morrow verse

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bulletprccf · 7 years

Text

& they say that soulmates are two halves of one whole.

A Vincent/Lucrecia ficlet by Sennen. They say that soulmates are two halves of one whole, a single being who cannot fly for its wings being rend apart. We, of the Planet, know far better than to question seraphs of one wing, but perhaps there is something to be said of how lovers will reflect each other in their eyes, in their words, and maybe even in their deaths.

( Do not stand at my grave and weep. ( I am not there; I do not sleep. )

( But we loved with a love that was more than love-- ( I and my Annabel Lee-- ( With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven ( Coveted her and me. )

A cascade of long brown hair glowed auburn in the fading sun. Those eyes glittered like gemstones as the light kissed her skin good-bye. A name was shaped by lips that always seemed to have just a touch of cosmetic, and his name came by a voice so lovely it rivalled a harp. “Vincent.” The memory dissolves as the sound of rushing water brings him back to his senses. The towering cascade replaces the vision of brunette locks, and a cool mist paints across his face, enticing him with a lover’s touch. Ruby eyes open.

When they had stumbled across this cave, the kids had rushed in, eager for treasure though ever wary of specters like the one at their tails. A sudden hush had piqued that very person’s interest--what new horror awaited them, what new massacre of Shin-Ra? And when he had entered the cavern, a woman, far lovelier than he had remembered, had greeted him, wrapped in solid materia. Like a shot from a silver handgun, her name had burst, painful and unwilling, with a voice so hoarse it might have sobbed. “Lucrecia.” She had stirred--partially, at least. A specter, like one they had wished to avoid, of her had appeared and had showed all the kids what had happened thirty years ago. Seeming to recall what Sephiroth had done at the crater, Cloud had remarked, “She’s Sephiroth’s mother, all right.” And oh--Sephiroth. When she had asked after her son, he had not been able to bear telling her that they were going to kill him. And so, with a lie, ghostly eyes closed.

“The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, “Went envying her and me:-- “Yes! that was the reason (as all men know, “In this kingdom by the sea) “That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling “And killing my Annabel Lee.”

( And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side ( Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride, ( In her sepulchre there by the sea-- ( In her tomb by the side of the sea. )

His soul had been in such torment, he would have given anything to swallow the pain that just seemed to push upward, outward, that took the form of death as he rampaged against unsuspecting beasts. Even after all that, he had been filled with a need to go back. And so now he enters again, but this time she does not greet him, instead leaving him the silence of her mako coffin. As he kneels at her altar, he reaches out toward her crystal. Beautiful Lucrecia, whose true sparkle laid in her intelligence and drive, powerful enough to tear a man asunder, as if he’d been rend by a bolt of lightning and not the mere critical gaze of glittering eyes. For memories, fond and fair, are the most gorgeous epitaph one could give, far more lovely than a headstone comprised of frozen time and illustrious crystal, and when visage gazes upon it after thirty years of hearts dead and buried in boxes, in caves, beneath not six but sixty feet of earth, the love comes crashing back like a tidal wave, enough to knock a man to his knees, and then it ebbs away to a place he cannot reach, replaced by regret as cold as a corpse laid bare on a silver table and encased in a glass tube–a nightmarish specter, the beaten and the damned, the imperfections cut away until nothing but a shell is left, on display for all to come and knock on the cage, and observe the new king of death ( hades forgive me, i wanted naught but to be a man ), adorned with a fire that provides the only warmth he needs and hounds that bark out his commands with lethal howling. There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for another ( and we know so much about that, my dear–if i am to claim hades’s throne then come with me and i shall crown you persephone; you will stand as an eternal memory to the warm breeze that has turned chill and sour ) but in the end– ( i did nothing. )

Her soul had been in such torment, and how she would have cried out against his touch if she could have, but her voice is silenced, encased, inwardly pleading to stay away, stay away, stay away from the beast that will consume all. Even after all that, his hand connects, with a brush of bare fingers against her home. This first time, she cannot say a word, and instead it is the howl of a daemon that surfaces as the dark Lifestream flows into its unsuspecting and perfect coffin. As it recoils back, it reaches for the freedom of the world outside. Quiet Vincent, whose true merit laid in his attentiveness and understanding, soft enough to build a woman mighty, as if composed of mountains and not just the words of someone who sought the truth in her. For belief, warm and light, are the best gift he could have given, far worthier than jewelry of ice or flowers of flame, and when ear hears all elements after thirty years of sealing that leaves a woman deaf and dumb, in caverns, behind waterfalls that roar when she cannot, the love comes drifting back like a breeze, enough to cause a woman’s head to raise, and then it buoys away, taking her with it, whisking her from her prison of experiments and pain as foreign as an alien life form until nothing but the glass is left--a museum of beauty only Valentine can see, for she has withered away to dust but he refuses to see, for she strove to bring illumination to the world and shine a new sun--”forgive me, icarus, your lessons did not hold”--, and such advancements have made him blind, made him a monster that calls the end with lethal growling. There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for another ”i took him from you and i took you from this world--this damnation of you is all i could accomplish; i did the best i could, but i fear you will stand as an eternal memory to the warm breeze that has turned chill and sour. my dear, i tried” but in the end-- “i’m so sorry.”

“Do not stand at my grave and cry; “I am not there. I did not die.”

“Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep” Mary Elizabeth Frye (1932). “Annabel Lee” Edgar Allen Poe (1849).

#vincent valentine #lucrecia crescent #final fantasy vii #writings;#@ my soul rifp #i shouldn't write anymore for this pair #i always slay myself

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