#manchasama

[rainyfroggy]

Commission for @manchasama !!! Thank you so much!

Birdie blorbos... This belong to their wing!au

[spectra-bear]

I don't always go off on an essay rant on posts i like, but when i do, it's because they are FANTASTIC! :> Glad you saw my comments, I really truly think it was wonderful and will keep me filled with warm fuzzies for weeks. Get some sleep!

love how we both thought of leaving each other an ask merely minutes apart, absolute syncing right there

[kooriicolada]

Oh geeze you know I have to. Seph/Cloud -Meter of how dangerous your soulmate is

READ ON AO3

It's more than a little disappointing.  The meter tracing up the inside of Sephiroth's wrist has been set at a low, cool green-blue since he can remember.  At first it had meant little to him.  Hojo had told him it was unimportant, and that to a specimen of his caliber should be ignored.  But then Angeal and Genesis had come along and he'd learned more about it, more about how deep a soulbond could be.  He could see how close it drew them, how much joy they found in watching their meters rise as they matched each other in growing strength.

Blow by blow it tied them closer and closer.

Sephiroth had found himself craving that, and the disappointment in the cool, unthreatening color of his own tore at him more than he cared to admit.

It was only one more piece of fuel on the conflagration of his anger. When it erupted, Nibelheim burned.

Too caught up in his own madness and rage, Sephiroth never noticed the little meter go from cool blue-green to achingly vivid red as Cloud's hands wrapped around the blade of Masamune where it entered his torso.

Extra: The Counter Crisis AU version

The helicopter skimmed low over jungle thick treetops: Mideel was a green expanse below them.  The coast was near enough that he could see water glinting off the ocean in a thin, distant line. It was galling that he was being called in for this: A bunch of mad hippogriffs.  Hewould have thought that a company of security personnel lead by Zack would have been more than enough.

Sephiroth supposed he didn't mind the opportunity to take out his unending restlessness on them.  He also supposed that this was the reason he was on stand-by after all.

Another pulse of sharp warmth radiated up from his wrist and he frowned.  It had been last night when it had started.  The sharp bloom of heat was painful enough to make even him hiss in surprise.  The soulmark, the meter of his soulmate's power, had gone from cool green-blue to a searing red, sudden and shocking.

What his apparent soulmate had done to themselves he couldn't even begin to fathom.

Sephiroth's hair was jerked by wind as the helicopter door was opened.  Before the pilot could say anything, Sephiroth leapt from the helicopter.  As soon as he hit the ground in the clearing below there was a rush of motion and then he was locking blades.  The face across from him was creased in determined desperation, brows knit and blue eyes half-wild.

And wearing a trooper uniform.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together and get the idea that someone had suddenly come into a lot of power.  Sephiroth's mouth tilted into a smile, something victorious and roaring rising through him.

Across from blue eyes widened. Yes, this one was his.

[kitsunebaba]

So I did a thing

Counter Crisis is my fave FFVII fic and being the huge nerd I am, I’ve been collaborating with our lovely Koorii and Sama to turn it into an audio book!

At long last it is up to date and so I feel comfortable posting!

This is my first podfic so be gentle on the beginning. I do get better, I promise. This has been years in the making!

Hope everyone enjoys!!!

[chantillyxlacey]

For that first sentence prompt meme: "The rain wasn't Vivi's favorite weather, but it had its perks."

The fleeting smell of the dry-baked earth soaking it in was one– one of her favorite scents that nothing ever managed to replicate, no matter how hard they tried to sell themselves as genuine petrichor.

Listening to it falling was a second: the gentle sound that both had and lacked a distinct rhythm and almost sounded like words if she tweaked her imagination enough.

The opportunity to share an umbrella with Lewis or Arthur was the best of them all, though. It was unwieldy and generally didn’t do much to keep them from getting wet at all, but then the point wasn’t to stay dry– the point was just being close. 

Sure they didn’t need excuses to tuck against each other, or loop an arm around each others’ waists, or close the already meager distance between them to steal a kiss– but it was nice to have one anyway.

[justicecookie666]

Our First Safe Haven

Hakone Pax Yoshino Hotel is our haven for the first few nights and it's lovely. Sama even brought tea~

[rainyfroggy]

Another commission for @manchasama

Thank you so much! I had fun with this! the idea of wing grooming and taking care of the feathers is so sweet!

[kooriicolada]

Here have a challenge. Vincent x Genesis -Each other’s initials on their wrist/palm/etc

PROMPT LIST   READ ON AO3

Vincent's soulmark is located high on his left shoulder and doesn't appear until he's well into his twenties.  It appears in dark ink, an intricate and stately GR in sweeping calligraphy.  He has no idea what it says about his soulmate except that they'll grow up to have great penmanship.  It also doesn't bode well for whatever fleeting thoughts of romance soulmates tend to engender.  Honestly, he'd thought his soulmate was long dead and had been grateful for it.

It had been easier loving Lucrecia and not worrying about having a soulmate out there.  Maybe he'll be a mentor to his young, erstwhile soulmate.

He barely has time to think though.  Hojo puts a bullet in him and Lucrecia puts something worse in him and then he just turns off.  Vincent is too full of regret and pain, shattered with grief and helplessness.

He wasn't able to do anything for the woman he loved or her unborn child.  What use was he for some other child out there that he didn't even know?

-

Angeal is dead and Genesis is as good as.  He sits in the depths of what used to be his hometown and contemplates the mark sweeping darkly across the back of his hand.  It's a slanted W as far as he can tell.  While it's not uncommon for people in this world to lack a last name it does make it harder.  It's useless, in the long run.

His skin around the mark is pale and cracked, bits sloughing away without his glove on to hold them.   The mark itself, however, is as stark and pristine as ever.

Genesis wonders if they'll feel anything at all when his initials fade from their skin.

-

The strangest part of waking up, of letting Cloud and his ragtag group drag Vincent from his slumber, is that his soulmark is still fresh as spilled ink.  Oh, it was a given that they could still be alive, but somehow…. Well, Vincent's luck wasn't that good.

Not that he'd seek them out.  What good was a soulmate still wallowing in lost love? A shattered broken beast with nothing left but vengeance and penance?

-

Weiss, when he wakes, tells Genesis the whole, long story.  About Deepground, about Omega WEAPON, about Chaos and Vincent Valentine.  Still, Genesis doesn't make the connection--a fact he's chagrined about later--until he's availed himself of the WRO's archives.

Reeve Tuesti is an interesting man, and though Genesis has no intention of tying himself to the organization he does have a vested interest in what's been done with his cells.  

It's there that it finally clicks in place.  Innocuous on a written report copied into the WRO's system.  A document signed with a familiar, slanted W which on closer inspection is in fact two V's running together.

Vincent Valentine. Of course.

-

7th Heaven is quiet at this time of day.  There's only Tifa at the bar, currently on the phone with who Vincent assumes is Cloud, and himself.  When he'd arrived Tifa had shoved a cocktail called a Tonberry Tickler into his hands and sent him to sit.  She's called his drink choices boring and predictable before.  So far he hasn't touched it.

Reeve had been vague about wanting Vincent to meet some new contact.  No name, no information.  It makes everything in Vincent, from beast to man, itch.

The door opens and Vincent lifts his head.  A man walks in in a flurry of red leather and long legs.  His bootheels tap across the floor in an unhurried staccato beat.  He's clearly someone who walks into a room and owns it, the very antithesis to Vincent's preference for crawling in the shadows.  Vincent sees Tifa watching him with narrow, suspicious eyes.

The man swans to a stop alongside the table Vincent was hunched over.  "You," he says, head tilted back haughtily, "have abhorrent handwriting."

Vincent gives a long, slow blink. He refuses to tip his head further than necessary to observe his new 'contact'.  "It was requested I type further reports," he says inanely.  Phones, typing reports…  He's not sure where they expect him to keep everything.  He doesn't exactly live anywhere.

His visitor sniffs and then deigns to slide into the booth across from him.  He doesn't seem to mind that the room is at his back.  Either he's good or he's arrogant.  Vincent suspects it's both. "Our meeting has been long fated," he says, pulling at the fingers of a glove as vividly red as his coat.

Vincent blinks slowly again, the claws of his gauntlet clicking together slowly beneath the table.  "Ah?"

A pale hand presses flat on the table between them, a vivid and familiar signature taking up the entire back of it.  "I'm Genesis Rhapsodos and you are my soulmate."

Ah, Vincent thinks, how unexpected.

All he can think to say is: "This meeting was a ruse."

Genesis looks at him for a long moment, then lets out a soul deep sigh.  "At least you're not a complete fool."

Vincent resents his tone, but it's a fair assessment.  His social skills do leave much to be desired, he's been told.  So he adds, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

That, at least, gets a quicksilver smile.  Vincent imagines for a moment that this isn't a terrible idea.