#final fantasy 7

[aelkurai-art]

Of course Cid is one, Viny.

[altocat]

I hate summer 😔😔😔😔 how would agscz deal with this heat? It’s humid and hot asf I’m dying and musty asf I hate this I feel greasy

Angeal: AGGRESSIVE! SUNSCREEN! ACTION! Smearing that shit on top of EVERYONE! Do you WANT skin cancer when you're older, soldier? EMBRACE YOUR DREAMS AND HONOR AND COVER UP ASAP! YOU CAN WORK ON THAT TAN LATER, GENESIS! SEPHIROTH GET OUT OF THE WATER, YOU'RE STILL EXPOSED! ZACK COME OVER HERE AND DO YOUR SQUATS IN THE SHADE! I WON'T ASK YOU AGAIN, YOUNG MAN!

Genesis: Complains loudly about the heat but particularly enjoys complaining at Sephiroth's apartment. Sephiroth sits there on the couch and reads a book while Genesis lays flat on the tile howling up at the ceiling about HOW HOT IT IS and how THIS IS COMPLETELY UNFAIR and how he's JUST SO MISERABLE AND HOT AND POOR AND SOMEONE PAY ATTENTION TO HIM NOW! Sephiroth...just flips another page and tries to conceal the faint smile playing on his lips.

Sephiroth: Sephiroth is indifferent to extreme heat. Just as he's indifferent to extreme cold. He might work up the occasional sweat, but various temperatures mean nothing to him. His body just physically withstands it like it doesn't affect him at all. Hojo had done many studies on this when he was a child. Sephiroth's body simply balances itself out to endure all sorts of extreme weather. So the blazing heat and humidity barely makes a difference. If anything, he has no idea why everyone's complaining and being so dramatic. It's pretty irritating.

Cloud: Mostly just sticks to the usual Cloud schtick of sitting there looking quiet and miserable. He's pretty listless in the heat. And may or may not suffer from the occasional dizzy spell. He's trying very hard to hide it since his shitty bunkmates keep calling him a girl for fainting. His only consolation is when Zack spots him and buys him some ice cream.

Zack: Offers a free "summer car wash" service so that the locals don't have to fuel up in the hot sun. Mostly just involves him running around in his swim trunks with a garden hose grinding provocatively on people's vehicles to "impress the beach babes". Genesis passes by and verbally trashes the shit out of him...before joining him scarcely twenty minutes later.

[altocat]

If you lived on Gaia and had an opportunity to kill post-Nibelheim Sephiroth yourself, would you do it?

I can barely open a pickle jar lmao what makes you think I'm qualified to kill Sephiroth, much less LIFT a sword to stab him 🤣

If I had an opportunity to kill Sephiroth, even with the knowledge that it would partly be putting him out of his misery, I'm still not sure if I could. I'm not a particularly aggressive person and I don't think I could ever hurt or kill someone, even if they deserve it.

I'd just leave it to Cloud or Zack tbh. And I probably couldn't even watch it happen. It would just be really, really sad.

[fishmechs]

[aceduooooooooooooooooooooooooo]

Aquatic animal associations for AGS cause why not. If someone asks about any of these I'll elaborate

Genesis: Betta fish

Angeal: Orca

Sephiroth: Leopard seal

[spiraling-endlessly]

Tangled Roots

Another thing, Genesis/Angeal. Imagine them, if you will, in the Banora Underground after Hollander has told Angeal the truth.

No warnings. Some sexual tension, but not explicit.

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Genesis tore into a freshly picked Banora White, recoiled, spit seed and core and bits of pulp onto the rock. He leaned like a tilted weathervane, his lips fixed into a similar shape.

They sat in silence, the two of them, like bitter rivals or passing strangers.

Angeal's raven hair hung over his face like cloth, over his neck. His chest and arms were bare and clean and white, save for a single bandage, where the doctor had drawn a small amount of blood. He watched his fingers brush mindlessly at the fabric. The first since he'd joined them, it would not be the last.

A crooked smile waxed over Genesis's lips, he considered the mouthfeel of the flesh of the apple, was reminded of his own bandages. Hidden beneath his uniform, mottling his perfect skin. He swallowed and licked his lips.

"It gets easier." And Hollander never took too much, not all at once. His own samples had been carefully collected from long before they'd ever considered defecting, long before he did, at least. Such was the doctor's patience.

Angeal let out a sound like a faint hum, like a dying whisper. His eyes remained on the floor, as they'd been since Hollander, spooked by his insistent rage, spilled like a compromised dam, everything. He'd told him everything that he'd told him, and he'd watched as the color drained from Angeal's cheeks, the slow shake of his head.

He knew what he'd been thinking, in the moments then and the moments before. That none of this could be happening, that none of the words which Hollander spoke could be true. That he did not see a perfect replica of his friend growing in each of the tanks, that they were not made in the way that he said, that it could not be true that the same could be done of him.

And yet he'd wilted and buckled, and sat himself against the table, dispondent. Hollander saw opportunity like a raven, and let his vials drink their fill.

Poor thing. He remembered when he had felt as such, but without the benefit of company. Angeal could count himself lucky to have him, for him to love him so much.

Genesis shrugged away the shadows, discarded the skeleton of the apple, and stepped around him like tossing wind, like a dancing specter. He loved the look of him, his dark hair, his sculptural muscle, at every turn.

He wrapped his arms around his neck, perched his head utop his shoulder. How warm he was, as if he were the sun himself, or held it in his core.

"Don't be so upset, Angie." He whispered the words in his ear, felt his body flutter beneath his cold touch and warm breath. He pressed himself closer, so the fabric of his uniform touched his back. "It's just us again, like it used to be."

I need only you, and you need only me. Such was the way of monsters, he'd learned. They were attracted to one another in the same way flowers tangled at the roots. Roses of the same bush thought each other especially sweet. He kissed his ear before he pulled away and stood, and left his hands and his body cold and empty.

Angeal regarded him with piercing eyes, glowing like the stilled waves of the sea or like a lake. And he found in them no less depth, there was his friend from birth, who'd suckled from the same breast and shared the same earth beneath his feet. Whose body desired his in the same way a torso desired its arm, and like it they would spend all of forever in longing for a fruit which could never be obtained. The sweetest fruit, satiating to thirst and hunger.

But wanting without end was what would spur them on. What greater pleasure than hunting the beast which could never be caught? In this way they could creep up on it, and ready their rifles and fire a close, but missing shot. Exhilirating, the closer the catch, but never the winning shot. And they could do this again and again and again.

He peeled his coat from his shoulders, shivering. The doctor was away in his laboratory, and he wouldn't mind. He would understand and perhaps relish in it, of similar excitement was watching the hunter take his shot, betting on him, and waiting in those moments as he placed his finger upon the trigger, steadied his hands…

Angeal caught him by the wrist. "Stop."

Reservations, he knew. Like those he'd had before he agreed upon Hollander's price. The wrongness and the strangeness of it all, but he was already degrading and he was already a monster. Monsters were quite wrong and quite strange.

He traced the beautiful shape of Angeal's half-naked body, fit an arm around his narrow waist and held him close. Closer than lovers in a storm. Angeal did not resist him, he released his grip on his wrist. Watched him cautiously and curiously. Good.

A little skepticism was necessary to comprehend the truth.

Genesis drew nearer, enough to feel his breath against his cheek, however restrained. He smelled of exhaustion and thick summer sweat, a delicious smell. He pressed together their lips and kissed him, slipped his tongue into his mouth.

Angeal let his fingers linger near his cheek then, reservations overcome, slipped them into his hair. And he kissed him back, the way a stag accepted the dance of hunter and hunted as it twitched and it bolted through the thick of the woods. They could begin, but there was one more thing.

More tinder for the fire, the music to their dance. Anger and despair, overwhelming despair. Let Angeal feel it, he thought, and let him unleash the fury we together share upon me.

Genesis probed his back with two fingers and thumb, searching for the place, the slightly soft spot along his back. Between the shoulder blades, not too high nor too low. The same place the doctor probed him so very long ago.

He found it and he pressed. Skin gave, molded between his fingers, reshaped into something new, into what it always was but had not been. He felt it, he grasped it, and he pulled, hard, as if yanking chains from the body of his friend. Chains of humanity. He watched his face shrivel in pain, his mako eyes grow wide with realization that something strange had happened.

Yes it had. Something strange indeed.

Genesis stepped back, from his hovering grasp, and felt his own eyes widen. He traced the protrusion, watched Angeal scramble to feel it and he shouted something, something he could not hear but it was probably a question of how and why and what.

He found himself distracted, like a hunter happening on a swan upon a silver lake, the calm moments of breeze and grass as he cocked his rifle at the waiting doe.

He was a monster, like him, and he was beautiful, so beautiful. And the single wing which grew from his back was white.

[level99challenge]

i wonder if it'll take us approximately four more text boxes to read all two words of it. that'd be interesting, i bet

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Black trans lives matter