#ffvi au

[siverwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Pigeon Man (Ghost Trick), Cabanela (Ghost Trick) Series: Part 57 of Final Fantasy VI/Ghost Trick Summary: Cidgeon could use some reassurance after a nightmare in his own grudging way

Fictober promptless from yesterday

[laughingmango]

happy birthday dear, dear @azurefishnets! Let me daaance...

Context outside the groupchat is for the weak but as it turns out, if AU Jowd has Sketch he also eventually has Control, and they both have their share of possession-based trauma to work through. For now, like this...

[icycoldninja]

Rapunzel (Sephiroth x Cloud)

A/N: Inspired by a post made by @meru-chanowo. Please note that this isn't going to be exactly like Tangled or the Rapunzel fairytales. The story is different; altered to fit the characters' personalities. With that short disclaimer out of the way, I hope you enjoy. 💜

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sephiroth sighed as he stared out the window, taking in the lush scenery before him. The sky was a gorgeous light blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds; the grass was a shining green, and the dewdrops that had accumulated overnight were glistening brightly in the shining morning sun whose bright rays also illuminated the entire tower through the window.

"I wish I could go out there,"

He mumbled, folding his arms and resting his face in them. He'd spent his entire life confined in that tall, tall tower in the middle of nowhere; all he knew was the dull brick walls and the little snippet of the outside world provided by his tiny window.

"But Mother wouldn't let me..."

Mother Jenova was a strict, strict woman, who always insisted the outside world was a cruel, dangerous place full of evil people and disgusting creatures. Throughout his childhood and adolescence, she repeatedly told him that the safest place he could ever hope to be was within that tower, safe and sound. Sephiroth had believed her for most of his life, but recently, he began to wonder: Was the entire world that terrible? Was that small meadow visible from his tiny window the only part of the Earth that wasn't corrupted? These kinds of questions created curiosity; curiosity created hypotheses; hypotheses need to be tested.

Sephiroth wanted to leave the tower more than anything. He wanted to explore and see the world for himself, rather than rely on Mother Jenova's words. Not to mention, he was lonely. So, so lonely. The only person he'd ever spoken to was Mother Jenova, and as stated before, she was a strict, strict woman. She would never indulge in fantasies, theories, or even speak of "what-if's", she was all about facts, figures, and more importantly, Sephiroth's safety.

"This tower is the safest place you'll ever be in, child," She would tell him, while brushing his hair out as she did every night before bed. "Here, you'll never want, never need, and never fear. This tower is your home. Don't ever think about leaving it."

But that was the problem, Sephiroth wanted to want, he wanted to need and to fear; he desired so strongly to experience things for himself, to live his own life.

In short, Sephiroth wanted freedom.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair," Shouted a voice. Sephiroth turned to the window and saw Mother Jenova waving to him from below, her curvaceous, blue-skinned figure wrapped in a blue shawl, a basket of groceries under her arm. Sephiroth let out a low chuckle, as this was an inside joke between him and his mother. The length of his hair as well as his ethreal beauty made him quite similar to the fairytale princess. In reality, he did not use his hair for climbing purposes; Mother Jenova possessed the ability to levitate into the tower on her own.

"Did you miss me, child?" She asked, setting down her groceries on the small wooden table. "Very much so, Mother." Sephiroth answered, quietly. He had learned over the years that Mother Jenova expected a very specific reply to certain questions, and that if she didn't get it, she would scream and shout for hours, even after her throat turned hoarse. Sephiroth knew what she wanted: To be seen as the perfect, loving mother, the ultimate provider and the only person upon which he should ever depend. In order to keep the peace, he would have to make sure that his words convinced her this was true.

"Oh, while I was out getting groceries, I came across this lovely-looking book and thought you might like it." Mother Jenova fished a thick, hardcover book out of her basket and handed it to Sephiroth. "Thank you, Mother," He said, graciously accepting it. "I shall read it right away." Mother Jenova nodded proudly before heading to the window. "I'm afraid I must go away again," She said, though Sephiroth doubted she was actually afraid. For someone who held such a dark view of the world, Mother Jenova sure enjoyed traveling through it. "I have another errand to run, this one a bit long, so don't expect me home for several days." Sephiroth kept a placid smile as he responded, "I understand, Mother, I'll simply busy myself with this book." Mother Jenova smiled widely before leaning forward and planting a kiss on his hair. "I love you so much, my child. Be well, and know that the world is a dangerous place."

With that, she was gone, having leaped out the window and levitated off somewhere. Once she was gone, Sephiroth let out a loud sigh and leaned against the wall, the new book in his lap. Several times in his childhood, he'd asked to go with her on these errands, and each time, he'd been slapped across the face and told he was an ungrateful child. "When will I get to be free?" He wondered, absently fanning himself with his book.

The answer to his question was soon; very, very soon.

Sephiroth was leaning against the window, his long hair actually trailing out of it, reading the new book Mother Jenova had gotten him. It was an adventure novel, believe it or not, and reading it increased Sephiroth's desire to explore the world himself. He was so lost in the book, he never noticed the man on horseback speeding towards his tower-prison. "Hey!" The man shouted, causing Sephiroth to jump. Mother Jenova had always told him to avoid being seen by humans, should any stumble upon his residence. At this point, it was too late, as Sephiroth and his hair were perfectly visible by this strange blonde stranger, and his horse.

"You live here?" The guy shouted, nervously glancing behind himself for a moment. Sephiroth nodded, throwing aside his book, leaning out the window, and staring at this person intently. "Who are you?" The blondie scratched his head; his horse, which was an unusual bright red, neighed loudly. "I'm Cloud," He finally answered, sounding rather afraid. "Cloud Strife, merc-for-hire. But not right now." He cast another wary glance behind him and continued, "I'm being chased by The Turks. Think you could let me hide up in that tower?"

Several questions flashed across Sephiroth's mind. Who were the Turks? What was a "merc"? And why was he talking to this suspicious, yet oddly cute stranger? He was defying every rule Mother Jenova had ever set for him--and he was liking it!

"Sure, you can hide in here," He said, gripping the windowsill excitedly. "Except...I don't know how you'd get in." Cloud groaned and ran his hand down his face.

"How do you get in and out?"

"I don't. I live with my mother who does all the errands for me."

Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Well, how does she get in and out?"

Sephiroth shook his head again. "Levitation."

"Ah." Cloud frowned thoughtfully, looking around for something he could use to scale the tower. Then, he caught sight of Sephiroth's incredibly long, shiny hair. "Hey, how strong is that hair of yours?" He asked, completely serious. Sephiroth was taken aback for a second, his brain working to process this information. Eventually, he understood what Cloud meant.

"You want....to climb up my hair?" Cloud nodded; he didn't see any other way to get up into the tower.

"Alright...umm...come a little closer, then." Cloud obeyed, making the horde trot up to the tower wall where he was met with a very long, almost rope-like coil of shimmering white hair. Clearing his throat, Cloud grasped the long bundle, put his feet on the side of the wall, and began pulling himself upwards.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," Sephiroth winced; having a full grown man climb up a 40 foot tower using only his hair was more painful than he'd thought. However, he gritted his teeth and stood there, waiting until Cloud reached the window. Then, he took the mercenary's hand and pulled him through.

"Nice place you got," Cloud remarked, once he was inside.

"Thank you," Responded Sephiroth, as he gathered up his hair and flung it over his shoulder.

"You said you live with your mom, right? Where is she now?"

Sephiroth sighed. "She's out...running errands. Or so she says."

Cloud turned around, a curious expression on his face. "What do you mean?"

Sephiroth folded his arms, feeling both guilty and excited. He knew he shouldn't be telling a guy he just met all about his personal life, but he couldn't resis. For the first time in his life, he was talking to a real human--someone other than his mother.

"She leaves to travel and collect things, and never tells me what they're for. She won't take me with her either. I've...been stuck in this tower since the day I was born."

Cloud frowned; his brow furrowed. "Really? Wow...that sucks. If...if you like...I could get you outta here." Cloud had no idea why he said that, especially considering that he was a wanted criminal in most major cities, but something about this strange, beautiful man struck him and made him want to help him out of this trapped life he seemed to be living. Cloud watched with bated breath as Sephiroth's glistening green eyes lighten, feeling his own face heat up in the process.

"You'd do that? Take me away? Why? You don't even know me." Cloud shrugged, not sure of his own reasoning himself. "I dunno... I just kinda want to. So....uhh.?.you interested?"

Yes. Yes, he was. Sephiroth was so interested that he would have flung himself out of the window if he could, but then he remembered something Cloud had mentioned earlier.

"Aren't you being chased by...turkeys, or whatever you called them?"

"Turks," Cloud corrected, "And yeah, I am. But it's OK, cause I'm hiding up here with you, and if we do get spotted, Red XIII can outrun them easily."

"Red XIII?" Sephiroth inquired, confused.

"My horse," Cloud clarified, pointing to the window. "He used to be a warhorse--very fast and very strong. The Turks got nothin' on him."

"So who are the Turks and why are you being chased by them?"

"The Turks work for the royal family, y'know, King Vincent and Queen Lucretia. They're after me cause I'm a mercenary--someone who performs odd jobs, usually violent ones, for money. I've pissed off more people than I can count, most of em upper-classmen." He turned to Sephiroth and realized that the long haired beauty had no idea what Cloud was talking about. "Uhh...you probably don't know what any of that meant, huh?" Sephiroth shook his head, retreating to the shadowy corner and folding his arms tightly across his chest. "No worries, once things calm down a little, we'll leave this place and I'll show you what the world's like." A wide smile spread across Sephiroth's face, one of genuine happiness that filled Cloud with a sense of warmth he'd never felt before.

"That would be lovely," Sephiroth said, a tiny blush beginning to form on his face. "I'm honestly quite excited to see the world...for myself." Cloud bobbed his head in agreement, placing his hands on his hips.

"It's settled then." Cloud stuck his head out the window and surveyed the ground below. "Looks like the Turks have given up the chase--I don't hear their horses anymore." He turned back to Sephiroth, a mischevious glint in his eyes. "Let's make our escape." Sephiroth nodded excitedly--perhaps a bit too excitedly, and sidled up to the mercenary, who leaped out of the tower and landed on his horse, who neighed loudly, but was otherwise unaffected. "Jump," Cloud instructed, holding his arms out. "I'll catch you." Sephiroth clambered onto the windowsill and hesitated; the drop was long and if he missed...

"Just jump," Cloud shouted again. "Red XIII's a tough dude, he can handle it!" That wasn't exactly what Sephiroth was worried about, but whatever. Sucking in a deep breath, Sephiroth took the leap, soaring out of the tower and literally crashing into Cloud's arms. Their eyes met; for a split second, Sephiroth thought he was staring up at a handsome prince.

"Right....should we go?" Cloud asked, looking rather anxious. Sephiroth blinked, then remembered the seriousness of the situation.

"Ah, yes, of course..." He allowed Cloud to lower him to the ground, then circled over to the back of the horse. With some difficulty, he managed to scramble onto it and wrap his hands around Cloud's lean waist.

"Ready to go?" Cloud asked, his face practically on fire.

"Yes, of course."

Though there was much he had left to learn about the world, the way things worked, and Cloud, the mercenary, one thing was certain: After years, and years of longing, Sephiroth was finally free.

[wannabeblockb]

I have some headcanons about my Reno buddies with Cloud!AU of FF7

Reno once offered Cloud a cigarette and Cloud nearly choked from it

Reno is the only person Cloud shared with that he had a crush on Zack

Reno called him funny nicknames like “Cumulus” (fluffy cloud)

When Cloud told Reno about Tifa, the first thing he said was: “Is she hot?”

At the Sector 7 pillar when Reno said “Who knows,” it was the kind of sarcastic line he used to use on Cloud

When and if Cloud’s memories are restored, he would meet Reno again and it would be similar to when Roxas remembered Axel

[wolfsfandomblog]

The Dance of the Ambassador

Written as a tribute to @laughingmango @siverwrites and @azurefishnets Ghost Trick/ Final Fantasy 6 AU, which I binge read the entirety of in about two weeks.

Set some time after Cabanela becomes the ambassador to Figaro, but before Jowd and Alma have gotten to know him.

‘Another day, another meeting,’ Jowd thought with an internal sigh. Across from him and Alma sat the Vector ambassador and another Empire official. This particular assembly was for yet another try from the Empire at getting Figaro to agree to some kind of alliance. Thus far their advisors had found fault with no less than four attempts at contracts, and had sent all of them back to be revised.

The ambassador, Cabanela, sat back in his chair looking nothing but relaxed, as if he were having a simple chat and not part of an increasingly frustrating stalemate. How he kept his composure all the time Jowd would never know.

Alma spoke, “Ambassador? What are your thoughts?”

“Weeeeell,” Cabanela started, “I believe the Empire has successfully addressed any and all concerns you may have had, my Queen. I find no fault with the Empire’s treaty this time, baby.”

With a voice as smooth and convincing as Cabanela’s it was hard not to believe what he was saying, but his eyes betrayed him. Others may have been fooled by the ambassador’s façade but Jowd had enough practice analyzing others to see through it. There was no real emotion behind his words. Just placations fed to him by the Emperor to, in turn, feed to them. ‘Just how many people have joined the Empire because of you,’ Jowd wondered.

Jowd sighed aloud this time, “We’ll need to have our people look over this new contract. If it’s as good as you say, there should be no problem with that, correct?”

Before the dignitary (who Jowd very pointedly did not bother to learn the name of) could speak, Cabanela did as much of a bow as he could while seated, “Of course we have nooooo problem your Majesty. Take all the time you need.” The lanky man gave a smile, warm and soft.

Alma, bless her, called the meeting to an end, sensing her husband’s patience waning. Together they stood up and exchanged real bows with the diplomats before leaving.

As they walked down the hall Alma grabbed Jowd’s hand and rested her head on his shoulder, “I just don’t understand.”

“Understand what, my dear?”

“Why the ambassador doesn’t give us real feedback on the Empire’s stupid contracts that are full of loopholes and flowery language that no layman can decipher!”

Jowd chuckled, “He may be Vector’s ambassador to Figaro but the Empire is where his loyalty lies. Of course he doesn’t point out the flaws, it’s his job to win us over without us asking too many questions.”

“That may be true, but just once I’d like to hear his real thoughts,” She puffed out her cheeks slightly.

The king brought his queen’s hand to his lips for a quick kiss, “I would too. But it’s not likely to ever happen.”

–

If there was anything Jowd hated more than inane meetings, it was grand balls. Too many lights, too much sound, too many people. And worst of all, the expectation to dance. Which was why he had made it very clear to Alma that he would not be dancing and instead would ‘supervise’ from the throne. In solidarity (and possibly the desire to not have to socialize) Alma stayed with him and observed the festivities from afar.

Just their luck, a band of foreign royals ‘touring the world’ had stopped by the desert kingdom and had become enamored at their ‘way of life’. And of course, as a courtesy, the king and queen held a ball to welcome them.

“Couldn’t we have just told them all to go away?” Jowd grumbled quietly.

Alma smiled back, “You know we couldn’t. Besides, do you see who’s actually having fun?”

She looked pointedly out at the room and her husband’s eyes followed. His eyebrows raised as he spotted exactly who she was commenting on. Cabanela in his bright white coat certainly stood out amongst the sea of deep rich colors. The ambassador was clearly in his element, dancing and twirling and drawing all attention to himself. It seemed nobody could resist his magnetic pull. All he had to do was flash a smile and lean into a dramatic bow and anyone in his path was compelled to dance along. Women giggled into their hands and men would sputter embarrassedly but all would join him in his chaotic yet elegant whirlwind. And once the dance ended the person would stand there dazed and confused before returning to their original activity. Cabanela didn’t seem to need any breaks himself but nonetheless stopped every once in a while to eat, drink, and converse with the nearest diplomat.

Jowd was utterly entranced. Even from the other side of the room he could feel himself wanting to get up and invite this strange being to look his way, if even for a moment.

Alma touched his arm, breaking the trance, “You don’t suppose this is his way of making connections for the Empire, do you?”

“I doubt it,” Jowd sounded out of breath, “I think he’s really just like that. Wait, aren’t I meant to be the cynical one?”

“Oh you are, I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. I for one am glad to know somebody enjoys these parties,” The queen said.

The rest of the night was mostly spent either watching the Vectorian ambassador or making silly comments to each other about the visitors, seeing who could get who to laugh the hardest. Eventually to the king and queen’s relief, people started filing out and towards their guest rooms. Once it was just them and their staff they thanked the workers graciously before heading out themselves. The pair had almost made it all the way to their bedroom when Alma groaned.

Jowd peered over to his wife, “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot my earrings in the ballroom. They were starting to hurt my ears so I took them off,” she turned to head back.

“We could let a servant get them, I’m tired,” Jowd pouted.

Alma waved a hand, “No no, I don’t want to inconvenience them too much. You can go to bed but I’m going to grab them.”

For the millionth time that day Jowd sighed, but he followed the queen back towards the room anyway. As they approached the two shared a confused look. There was still music coming from the ballroom. It was much quieter now, as if being played in secret. The closer they got the clearer they could hear not only the music, but also laughter. And under that laughter was a familiar voice.

Finally, they peeked their heads in to watch the scene. Sure enough, the music was on, the lights slightly dimmer, and in the center was Cabanela, dancing with a waitress. Some time after they had left he had apparently shed his overly bright coat and underneath was a light gray dress shirt. He was as smooth as he had been and yet… somehow this dance was even more alluring. It was slower than the tornado from earlier, more intimate. Just as dramatic, but the drama had a certain flair that they hadn’t seen prior. It was elegant, full of enticing movements that hadn’t been present before. And when the waltz was over, Cabanela fell into a deep bow and kissed the back of the girl’s hand. Then he held out his own hand to a different worker. She shook her head, told him she needed to clean, and eventually blushed and accepted the outstretched hand anyway. One by one, Jowd and Alma watched as the Vectorian danced with everyone. 

They stood captivated and noted the smile on Cabanela’s face, the most genuine one they had seen from him. Truly and clearly in this setting, late at night with just staff to see him, Cabanela was just Cabanela. Not an ambassador, not an Empire diplomat, just a man who wanted all in his sights to have a good time. This was certainly not the first time the king and queen had found Cabanela to be quite attractive, but it was the first time they saw something more. A certain warmth radiated from the man, as if he held the sun and was sharing the light with others at his leisure.

When there were no more dances to be had, Cabanela started helping gather dishes while their servants rushed to quickly stop him. They had to listen closely but could hear him say something along the lines of ‘it’s the leeeeast I can do after distracting you all for so long’.

Not wanting to get caught listening in like a pair of children, Jowd and Alma snuck back out and to their bedroom, earrings completely forgotten about. Inside the safety of their room, the two fell onto their bed after changing into their sleep clothes.

Alma breathed out, “Did that just happen?”

“I think so, as long as you saw what I did,” Jowd chuckled softly.

“Cabanela was dancing with all our workers, and seemed to be having much more fun than he had earlier? Not to mention how handsome he looked?” The queen asked.

The king answered, “Then it did happen. He seemed… happy. And free. I’d like to see him like that more often.”

“Me too, Jowd. Me too.”

The pair fell asleep in each other’s arms, both dreaming of a certain tall man and his dazzling smile.

–

They were awoken the next morning by a gentle knock at their door. Alma sleepily got up and opened it, Jowd trailing behind at an even slower pace. They were greeted by the sunny countenance of Cabanela, somehow completely put together despite the time.

Straightening his back a little at the sight of the queen and king’s attire Cabanela said, “Ah, my apologies if I woke you, your majesties!”

Alma waved her hand lazily, “It’s no trouble, what brings you here ambassador?”

“It seems that last night you may have misplaced your earrings. I saw them on the throne and decided to return them to you,” Cabanela held out the jewelry.

Taking the accessories Alma looked up in surprise, “Oh! Yes, I did. I meant to grab them but…” she raised an eyebrow, “Well, it’s not every night that you catch the ambassador dancing with all of your staff, is it?”

Somehow straightening his back even further, one could almost assume the statement had startled Cabanela. Effortlessly he bowed and said, “Oh, you saw that? I’m teeeerribly sorry for keeping your staff from their duties!”

“On the contrary,” Jowd cut in, “Not many people treat our workers like, well, people. It was nice to see them having fun.”

Alma added, “Plus, it was nice to see you having fun as well.”

Cabanela’s face turned the slightest shade of red and stood up out of the bow, “I had fun all night not just at the… ‘after party’. Reeeeally, your ball was one of a kind!”

Jowd snorted, “Now I know that’s not true. Parties like that are as common as they come. What my wife meant is that it was a pleasure to see the man behind the ambassador.”

“Exactly!” Alma exclaimed, “You’re always so formal when you speak to us, I’d love to have the real Cabanela show up more often. Especially in meetings where your true opinions would be appreciated.”

Quickly Cabanela said, “Of coooourse my lady! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some business to attend to!”

Cabanela turned around abruptly but the two could swear they saw the tips of his ears turn bright red. He ran off just as fast as his words and they watched until he turned the corner. Closing their door, the Figaro royals went back into their room, Alma dropping the earrings on the bedside table.

Jowd flopped back onto the bed, “Do you think we scared him off? What are the chances we’ll ever see the ‘real’ Cabanela now?”

Alma sat next to her husband, “I don’t believe our chances are as low as you think, dear. It probably helps that we told him he didn’t do anything wrong. But I suppose we’ll have to wait for now.”

–

The queen and king of Figaro sat across from the ambassador and the Empire diplomat again, ready to start negotiating the contract. Cabanela looked relaxed, as if he had completely forgotten their talk. The one noticeable difference however was that he appeared to be bouncing his leg a little. Nervous habit, or excess energy? Jowd would hazard to guess both rang true.

“Ambassador Cabanela,” Alma started, “Before we bring in our advisors the king and I would like to ask you once more, do you have any thoughts on this draft of the alliance papers?”

Cabanela took a breath. Locking eyes with both husband and wife, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and stood up. Striding over to their side of the table where the documents lay, he placed his pointer finger on a specific paragraph.

The other Empyrean representative appeared shocked, eyes wide and questioning.

The room was still and quiet for a second, and then Cabanela spoke, “The waaay this is worded, baby, would give the Empire complete control over your imports and exports.” 

Jowd could feel a smile start to form.

Cabanela flipped a few pages and landed on a new section, “And thiiis would allow them to dictate who is and isn’t allowed into the kingdom.”

After finding several other faults in either wording or policy, Cabanela stared at his fellow member of the Empire and stated, “This may as well be taken back for a total rewrite after we jot down what needs to be fixed. A complete revision, nothin’ like it!”

Sputtering and fuming, the official excused himself from the room. The king, who had been holding back laughter, let it burst out and watched Cabanela’s back straighten. Yes, that was definitely what he did when startled. Jowd placed a hand on that back and felt it relax the tiniest bit.

Alma let out a few giggles of her own before taking Cabanela’s hand in hers, and the faint blush on his face was back. She looked up at him, “Amazing! I knew you had more to say than you let on!”

Ambassador- no, just Cabanela- smiled at Jowd and Alma, small and genuine. It practically filled the room with sunlight. Placing his unoccupied hand over his heart he spoke softly, “Well, my job is to help do what’s fairest for both the Empire and Figaro, yeeees? Wouldn’t be very fair if the Empire’s getting the better end of the deal, right?”

When the emissary came back, the four began to write out every issue that popped up in the treaty. Hours later they finally took a break to eat. The entire way to the dining room, Cabanela, Alma, and Jowd walked side by side engaged in conversation. To the king and queen it just felt right to have him there. As if it was where he had always been, and always should be.

[laughingpinecone]

For @fyeahghosttrick‘s Ghost Swap exchange, @arbuthnotblob asked for a certain FFVI AU and I can only oblige! Memry is, ahem, “a gambling vagabond who finds freedom from society's narrow views of morality aboard her airship”... Cabanela is many things (Imperial ambassador, opera floozy, cause of the world’s impending destruction) but right now he’s just an old friend. They get each other’s ambitions just fine, among other things!

[siverwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Bailey (Ghost Trick), Jowd (Ghost Trick), Lynne (Ghost Trick), Sissel | Amnesiac Ghost, Alma (Ghost Trick) Additional Tags: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, FFVI GT AU, Fluff Series: Part 11 of Final Fantasy VI/Ghost Trick Alternate Branches Summary: Their newest member of the group has some moves to show off. Jowd has one of his own.

Fictober Day 07 Promptless

This doesn't time out correctly in the main AU, as Bailey had joined the group in the World of Balance for the first time, but he's new to them here in the World of Ruin, so it's in the alternate stuff.

[siverwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Jowd (Ghost Trick) Additional Tags: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, FFVI GT AU Series: Part 127 of Final Fantasy VI/Ghost Trick Summary: Alone, Jowd travels on in a ruined world

Fictober Day 3

Whumptober Prompt: Isolation