raisedbymoogles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raisedbymoogles) wrote2024-09-08 10:15 am
raisedbymoogles) wrote2024-09-08 10:15 am
this is not turning into yet another longfic i swear
Sometimes getting words out is like pulling teeth. And sometimes a scene drops into your head at 9 AM and won't leave you alone until you write it.
Based on this fill from 3SF and its companion ficbit.
*
It took a meticulous arrangement of pillows to get Sephiroth resting comfortably, with all his new appendages flopping around. He slept for two days, woke up ravenous, ate two bowls of Miz Strife's chili and another of blueberry cobbler before he was coherent enough to string more than two words together. So Zack waited until then to sit down on the edge of his bed and confess, "So I kind of killed Hojo."
Sephiroth stared at him. Zack immediately started studying the vase full of silk flowers on the end table like he'd be quizzed on it later, but he could feel his friend's intense, uncanny gaze on him as the silence stretched. At last Sephiroth asked, "What do you mean 'kind of'?"
Zack huffed a laugh. "I mean I ran him through, he was dead before he hit the ground, and then he started sprouting tentacles." Sephiroth made a quiet, sharp noise like he'd just been stabbed. "His Turk bodyguards just about crapped their pants. Pretty sure they've gone AWOL, and good for them."
"Zack," Sephiroth protested, strained.
"Anyway, I tried to kill him again," Zack forged ahead, "but he's a lot tougher as a mutated corpse, I guess. In the end I only managed to force him away from the town before he decided he'd had enough, knocked a tree down on top of me and escaped. Me and Cloud have been doing regular patrols ever since but no sign of the bastard."
"Zack," Sephiroth repeated, urgent, and Zack finally looked up. Worryingly, once he had Zack's full attention Sephiroth seemed to not know what to say, nakedly uncertain in a way Zack had never seen him. "....tentacles," he repeated at last. "Not - wings?"
....oh. "No," Zack assured him. "No wings."
Sephiroth sighed, put his head in one hand, eyes sliding half-closed. Poor guy looked exhausted. "....thank you," he said at last. "I wish I'd been there, but well done. I'll join you for patrols starting tomorrow."
"Hey, hey, what is this 'tomorrow' business," Zack scolded. "You just sprouted four extra limbs, you think you'll be in fighting shape by tomorrow?"
Sephiroth blinked once, slowly. "Well," he said, "I am an overachiever," and Zack thumped the mattress laughing.
Based on this fill from 3SF and its companion ficbit.
*
It took a meticulous arrangement of pillows to get Sephiroth resting comfortably, with all his new appendages flopping around. He slept for two days, woke up ravenous, ate two bowls of Miz Strife's chili and another of blueberry cobbler before he was coherent enough to string more than two words together. So Zack waited until then to sit down on the edge of his bed and confess, "So I kind of killed Hojo."
Sephiroth stared at him. Zack immediately started studying the vase full of silk flowers on the end table like he'd be quizzed on it later, but he could feel his friend's intense, uncanny gaze on him as the silence stretched. At last Sephiroth asked, "What do you mean 'kind of'?"
Zack huffed a laugh. "I mean I ran him through, he was dead before he hit the ground, and then he started sprouting tentacles." Sephiroth made a quiet, sharp noise like he'd just been stabbed. "His Turk bodyguards just about crapped their pants. Pretty sure they've gone AWOL, and good for them."
"Zack," Sephiroth protested, strained.
"Anyway, I tried to kill him again," Zack forged ahead, "but he's a lot tougher as a mutated corpse, I guess. In the end I only managed to force him away from the town before he decided he'd had enough, knocked a tree down on top of me and escaped. Me and Cloud have been doing regular patrols ever since but no sign of the bastard."
"Zack," Sephiroth repeated, urgent, and Zack finally looked up. Worryingly, once he had Zack's full attention Sephiroth seemed to not know what to say, nakedly uncertain in a way Zack had never seen him. "....tentacles," he repeated at last. "Not - wings?"
....oh. "No," Zack assured him. "No wings."
Sephiroth sighed, put his head in one hand, eyes sliding half-closed. Poor guy looked exhausted. "....thank you," he said at last. "I wish I'd been there, but well done. I'll join you for patrols starting tomorrow."
"Hey, hey, what is this 'tomorrow' business," Zack scolded. "You just sprouted four extra limbs, you think you'll be in fighting shape by tomorrow?"
Sephiroth blinked once, slowly. "Well," he said, "I am an overachiever," and Zack thumped the mattress laughing.