This is definitely not the outcome that Cloud wanted. He looks rather...deflated as he stares at the results on his PHS. He didn't make it into SOLDIER...god dammit. What's the point! They don't give a reason why, they don't show him anything, just a generic 'We're sorry to inform you' blah blah blah.
Dammit.
Sighing, he sits down on the nearest bench, still staring at the screen as if he could will it to change. That's when he hears Zack's voice from a distance, and he shoves his PHS into his pocket, trying to muster a smile when he's approached. "Hey, Zack. What's up?" He knows what's up. Why else would Zack be talking to him right now? "Got bad news, actually...I didn't get in."
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so...thinking...majority of clouds interactions with seph are (likely) when hes asleep/unconscious. or on that weird edge btwn awake and not. bc seph is literally in his brain. he cant escape him even in his own dreams 😀🥹 so hes probably an insomniac too bc of this lmao
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: suna rintarō is so much more than his bored eyes, the blunt between his lips, and his tendency to slack off—luckily, you're one of the very few people who know this; especially after he comes home to you sullen after finding out he didn't make it to the olympic players.
𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: female reader. fluff—established relationship. angst if you squint. comfort. mention of drug use. like, one swear word.
𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k
𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: in lieu of the influx of toxic stoner!suna content, i offer you a piece of appreciation towards him and all that he is. i was meaning to post this in my new blog but i thought there's so much of you here who would appreciate and need this more. written on a whim at 1AM and didn't proofread so for any errors, gomen. repost because tumblr tagging hates me. cross posted on ao3 under the same username. original post here. this was written before we got information that he actually made it to the olympic team. furudate really told me to stfu, huh?
It's you who find out first that there is truly so much more to Suna Rintarō than his expressionless exterior, sleepy eyes, and bored gaze towards even the most ridiculous situations. It's when his self assured stance dwindled as he walked towards you once upon a time, introducing himself first before asking you for your number.
"My number?" You echoed his request, trying your best not to gawk at his attractive features and six foot two stature towering over you so easily; making you feel oh so small. (Which is funny, given that you were already standing straight on your heels.)
"If you don't mind, 's cool if you say no," he replies, tearing his gaze from you as if he was actually anxious you'd say no.
It's funny, really. It's not every day a famous pro-athlete known for both his good looks and skills walk up to you, asking for your number and actually considering you'd say no to him and his pretty features—in fact, nevermind that he was pretty, it was more the fact that he wasn't so full of himself to actually think you wouldn't say no.
That's what makes you nod your head; your heart already beating right out of your chest as he gives you a lazy grin and his phone to press your number in. When you're done, you hand it back to him and you mentally pat yourself at the back for not visibly trembling.
"Y/N?" He reads your name from the contact information, and good God, did your name sound so beautiful coming out of his mouth. He doesn't wait for your reply anymore, looking back at you from his phone, the lazy smile still across his lips as if he knew it was a heart killer.
"Thanks, I'll text you later," is the last thing he said before he walked away from you.
It didn't take long for you to fall in love with someone like Suna Rintarō—underneath his detached personality also lied someone who was truly passionate with the things he set his mind to, gave his time to. Like you or volleyball or the video game he's been waiting to release for a whole month—it only had to be something or someone who was special enough, then, he would give it his all.
The smoke that filled his lungs occasionally did nothing to lessen your own intoxication of Suna Rintarō and his passions—because every exhale, his dark green eyes would meet yours and oh so easily, he offers you that same lazy smile yet one that was dripping with affection.
"Should you even be smoking that, Rintarō?" You had questioned him before, about the second time you've seen him put the rolled blunt in between his soft lips, inhaling it.
"It's a once in a while kinda thing, you don't actually think I'd sacrifice my career for this don'tcha?" He grins at you, amusement flooding his usually bored eyes — now glazed over with the effects of the weed—from the way he gazes at you with an eyebrow raised.
It's when you realize that Suna Rintarō was independent and knew what he was doing—did what he did with full awareness, full control, full flexibility. It's as if who he was in court was who he was in person as well.
"You're really interesting, y'know that Rin?" You had mumbled against his chest once before, it was at the first few months of dating—he had one of his arms around you with you cuddled on his side, watching a movie from his couch.
"Yeah?"
"I mean—you've always been so good at what you do, huh? But you still work for it."
"What makes you say that?" You can feel him looking down on face against his chest.
"C'mon, don't be silly. You were scouted at middle school and you only got better as you grew up!" You say, finally moving your head to meet his gaze.
But all you get is a flick on your forehead and his low chuckle, "'s not that deep, y/n," he answers.
But you already knew better.
Suna isn't one for words, and no matter how much you insist that he was beyond the description of words, he only rolls his narrowed eyes at you. You find out Suna Rintarō, your boyfriend, was a huge inspiration during your sixth month together when you finally met his little sister.
It's hard to say it wasn't amusing how snarky she was, just as he was to his friends whom you've met a few times before—Atsumu and Osamu Miya, you remember. She's quick with her tongue, easily retorting back to her brother's comments.
"Are you sure you didn't just pay Y/N-san to be your girlfriend, nii-san?"
"Nah, you still jealous I came out prettier than you?" Suna bites back, a teasing grin plastered across his face. His sister only scoffs, looking back at you.
"You can tell me if he blackmailed you to come here!" She attempts to whisper. You're not sure whether you should be worried or continue to laugh, but you do neither as you choke on the drink you were sipping on right as she told you this.
"Shit, Y/N," Suna curses as you cough, your throat burning at the drink's intrusion, but Suna's quick to rub soothingly against your back as he offers you his water, his eyes glazed over in panic.
"You okay?" He asks when you stopped coughing, and you nod in response—throat remaining slightly sore. Suna lets out an aggravated groan, "Be careful next time," he manages to scold you, but oddly enough, his words remain saccharine.
There's something about the way that his little sister doesn't seem the least bit surprised with his reaction that somehow lets you know that perhaps, Suna Rintarō might just be quite the caring brother behind closed doors.
After that, it was when Suna excused himself to take a call from his manager, leaving you with his sister.
"Hey, nee-san, promise you'll take care of Rin-nii? You won't break his heart, will you?" His sister asks, eyes gleaming with something akin to hope, expectation, wonder. It easily takes you by surprise.
"Don't you worry, I'll promise I'll take care of him, promise I won't break his heart," your voice easily softens, nodding. His little sister's gaze remains on you, as if she's assessing you and as if she would easily tell whether or not you meant the words that came out of your mouth.
It makes you hold a breath until she nods slowly, smiling at you lightly just as Suna comes walking back, eyebrows raised, knowing he must've missed something.
"Whatcha girls talkin' bout?" He asked as he slipped back on his seat beside you.
"None of your business, obviously," his sister quickly answers.
They're truly quite similar, it's enough to make you smile and get through meeting his little sister until both of you dropped her off back to the train station.
"What'd she tell you?" Suna nudged you after seeing her train leave.
"Nothing, Rin," you answered with a wide smile, leaning up to place a chaste kiss against his lips—yet just as you pull away, one of his hands has found its way behind your neck, pulling you back to him.
You never thought a kiss could feel so loving before—but it really seemed as if Suna Rintarō had a knack for proving you wrong, over and over again.
It was the day that the Olympic team was announced when you see so much more of Suna Rintarō. Quick like the blink of an eye, or lightning that leaves the thunder chasing it; Suna felt the exhaustion, the pressure, the burnt-out feeling that's been repressed in the back of his head. It comes to him, crashing down like boulders not just on his shoulders but weighing down every part of his body.
Did he lack somewhere? He wonders. Where did that lacking end and start? What could have he done? Was it training, where he spent most of his time now? Suna had end up seeing you less and less since the drafting of olympic players started and you've been nothing but patient.
What was he supposed to tell you? After all the time it has stolen away from you—that he didn't make it?
When he opened the door to your shared apartment, he doesn't look up at you with a relieved sigh as he usually would—he avoids you gaze entirely, he avoids your observing eyes from the couch you sat on, watching him slowly shrug his shoes off.
"I'm just gonn—" he started, about to make an excuse to avoid looking at you.
"Prepared your bath, Rin. C'mon," Suna hears you say but it doesn't sink in his head, watching you take his hand, leading him to the bathroom.
Suna remains silent as he looks down on the bath you prepared for him, warm and inviting.
"Meet me in the kitchen when you're done, okay?" He hears you say, followed by the echo of your footsteps walking away.
You easily understand that Suna Rintarō was more than his talents, his efforts, and every little thing about him when you feel his large arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressed against your back and his face buried on the crook of your neck. His fresh scent right out of the shower engulfing you and invading your senses, flooding you with him.
"'m sorry, bunny," he mumbles.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, Ri—"
"It's odd, thought I'd pull it off, thought it'd be nothin' if I didn't make it. Don't know why I'm so upset right now," he continues, cutting you off, "Been so patient for me too, bunny. Thought I'd be nice to make you proud, ya know?"
Your sigh comes out sharp from the heavy feeling from your chest, not knowing what to do to make him feel better—like he did with you, always knowing his way around your low moments.
You wriggle out of his arms, making him grumble until you fully face him. He looks back at you with a small frown, eyebrows furrowed, watching your expression.
"I'm always proud of you, Rin. Olympic player or not, you make me so proud," you speak softly, your hands cupping each side of his face.
"Don't even get why it matters to me this much, it's just—" it was your turn to cut him off, tipping your toes to press a lingering kiss against his lips. Suna smiles against your lips, carrying you to sit on the kitchen counter like he always did—knowing you always would have to tip on your toes to reach him.
Soon, the lingering kiss turns slow and passionate—lips softly grazing the other, and it feels more like pouring the heavy weight of love out of your chest and into the other. A kiss so loving, so reassuring, so passionate—the kind that easily takes your breath away and makes your mind go blank. When Suna pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. You smile at him because it's all you can do when your heart feels like it's going to leap out of your throat just to offer itself to him entirely—and Suna smiles back at you, pecking your lips before wrapping his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You run your fingers through his hair, hoping it would help soothe him, and then you say, "I promise that you'll make it next year, Rin. I'll be with you now, and I'll still be with you then."
It only makes him hold you tighter, closer to him, "I love you, Y/N."
"I love you, Rintarō. You deserve the world and all the stars in the galaxy."
"'s too bad there's nothin' more I need than you, then."
That's what Suna tells you—Suna, who was smoke in his lungs, dumb videos of the twins to blackmail them with, little mistakes, bored eyes, and lazy attitude. The same Suna who was slow kisses, passion, and genuine smiles reserved for you—the same Suna who gave his passions his all, the same Suna who held you securely in his arms every night, the same Suna his little sister admired. Most of all, the same Suna Rintarō you loved with every beat of your heart, every fibre of your being.
There were plenty of towns that ShinRa took interest in. Somewhere riddled with backwater citizens out in the middle of nowhere. The main benefit of establishing a resource in one of these towns was under the sole purpose that they could supply the townsfolk with little pay, just enough to maintain a diminutive life out in the ‘sticks’. President ShinRa (Winston) didn’t visit these areas of developments but he sent his scouts out collecting data and soon enough large tanks of Mako reserves were built. They were grand in scale, cylinder in shape, and located in the town itself.
After the fall of Midgar and the world was once again trying to regain their composure of the catastrophic events. Mako was a precious fuel that was no longer suctioned from the planet’s core. Any reserve of it was instantly zoned in and used for emergencies requiring energy in part of the world devastated by the uprising of the lifestream. This was just the reason why Rufus had visited the town. It was certainly a surprise to see someone of his caliber touch the soil of their town with his highly-polished wing-tipped shoes. There were utter bewildering thoughts as well—what purpose was he here for? Should they be angered at the state of the world now even though, in the end, they seemed untouchable in this remote area away from all city limits and high density of population.
Quite literally, they lived in their own protective bubble.
They didn’t have the need to tap into the Mako that filled the tank for they lived on their own resources away from the harmful chemicals that Mako could inflict. Rufus glanced over the town with the expression of being jaded of it already, the people were drab with their way of life; the clothing they wore and the sophistication they lacked. He leaned over towards his Turk who was in tune with observing the lax way the people went about. They had stopped briefly to watch this man make his appearance along their cobblestone entrance, tapering off to the soil itself.
They only saw him in newspapers.
“What is the name of this place again?” Rufus inquired, his eyes then locating the sign stationed on the side of the road. “Spectre,” he answered for him.
“Population is less than 150,” Tseng announced as they progressed into the town.
The tank had been sanctioned off in the edge of the town, their buildings holding an old-world atmosphere similar to the architectural designs of Kalm. The place was teeming with beasts to work for the farmers that held crops on the offset of the area—mostly of large yellow birds. They silently strode towards the main focal point of the entire town, of their entire trip.
The tank was 50 ft tall and 90 ft in diameter containing as much as 2,300,000 gallons. It sent a rush of excitement to ripple across the skin of the President. “I believe this would last us quite a while, at least until Edge is properly constructed.”
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It's not really a big deal, Cloud thinks. He'd do it for Denzel and Marlene just as readily, but all Sephiroth has is those god awful ShinRa branded clothes. He doesn't really know what Sephiroth likes...or if Sephiroth knows what he likes, so he got several different styles of clothes. He had to guess the size, too, but considering they're the same height, he just went off of his own size.
He holds the bags out to Sephiroth, feeling a little awkward. If anyone told him a couple of years ago that he'd be in a situation like this, he would've laughed. "Go try 'em on. Tell me what you think. I wanted to surprise you, but you can come with me next time."
Cloud stumbles back with a grunt as he's pushed away, but all he does is laugh. He laughs and he laughs like someone just told a joke, but only he could hear it. "Enough? That's enough? Can the great Sephiroth not take poor, little Cloud in a fight? Hm, I guess that checks. I mean, you couldn't stop me in Nibelheim either." He looks so incredibly off as he speaks, his pupils slits and his grin almost too wide for his face. Somewhere deep inside, Cloud is screaming.
"Anyone who stands in my way is my enemy," he says simply, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Cloud stalks back towards Sephiroth, pulling his sword back with a smirk. "So are you going to defend yourself? Or are you going to let me run you through again? It's your choice, but the clock is ticking."
