the edge of creation

Points Of Unconnected Light // a post-advent children sefikura/kurasefi story for @bladesmercy 🩵

“You know, it's damn rude to enter someone else's place while they're not even there,” Cloud grouses. It's maybe a little ridiculous given that they've been meeting like this for over a year now, but. That unnamed burning anger underneath his skin has to go somewhere.

After tossing his keys on the counter, he walks up to Sephiroth’s side, opens the cupboard above the sink and takes out a glass.

Fills it.

Drains it.

Sephiroth still hasn't said anything, which makes those burning sparks rise again. Except, the moment Cloud whirls around to face him, suddenly arms like steel catch him under the armpits and unceremoniously lift him onto the counter between the fridge and the sink.

“What are y—”

“Cloud.” Because he's ridiculously tall, Sephiroth is still looming over him even in this position. His gaze is as unyielding as his voice as he cups Cloud’s face with one hand and tilts it back, forcing eye contact. “What has happened?” 

Read on AO3

Star Born ║ part 5 of my post-advent children sefikura story I'm writing for my dear friend @bladesmercy, beta read by @merriweather-boat.

Blue.

The lake is…blue. Sunlight is glittering on its calm surface.

It's still day. It feels like it should be night. Like it should be dark.

How long have they been kneeling here?

Cloud stares at the lake.

A final tear drops onto his collarbone from where Sephiroth’s face is still buried in his neck. Then, the tall frame of his enemy shudders one more time and goes still.

Is that his own breathing that he hears? Or Sephiroth's? Does he even need to breathe?

The lake glitters. Cloud's eyes feel dry. Maybe he should blink or something. Maybe he should move.

He doesn't move.

His enemy does.