#wedgeofavalanche

Anonymous asked: Who are some of your favorite people on your dash every day and why?

‘Ello, nonnie.

Pretty much everyone I follow can be counted as a “favourite person” but I’ll tag all the people whose chats I have up on the side of my screen because otherwise this post will end up longer than my combat analysis (I know, I know, I haven’t posted it yet and it’s been months).

I may have wrongly assumed some pronouns here so please let me know and I will fix them asap. 💙

PHYSICAL CONTACT STARTERS – @wedgeofavalanche // accepting

      Reno stood close to the man in front of him. His breathing still fast. He tilted his head to the side, slowly bringing his hand up the man’s side and bringing around to the back of his neck. It seemed criminal somehow – other than the obvious fact that it is Reno and Wedge – that this man who simply blushed scarlet at any mention of anything, who blushed scarlet under Reno’s gaze if he held it too long. 

      “Well that need’s correcting then, doesn’t it?”

Is that…Cloud?

Wedge feels pain sprouting from multiple areas across his body, some aching dully while others far more sharply and therefore more difficult to ignore. Cloud’s voice sounds so far away…but when Wedge forces his eyes to crack open, he can see the ex-SOLDIER hovering over him.

He groans, letting his head limply fall to the side. He’s tired. He’s hungry. He hurts. He can barely process anything happening around him.

Is this what dying feels like? Being so tired he can barely lift an arm? How anti-climactic.

“Mmm’ere.” He finally manages to slur out, unsure if it’s even loud enough for Cloud to hear.

When he accepted the job to clear this part of the slums, he wasn’t expecting to run into anybody this far out, much less a familiar face. His expression briefly drops from its usual stoic one, running over to Wedge’s slumped form the moment he spots him. For a moment, he hesitates, looking around them as if to search for the culprit before he kneels by the other’s side, calling for him.

Tense shoulders relax minutely as Wedge finally stirs, Cloud standing and taking a step back to give him room to breathe. Whatever or whoever had done this did quite the number on him. The guy looked in bad shape and likely felt worse with the obvious strain in any motion.

Knuckles rapped on the door with a persistent knock. “Wedge...? Wedge are you there?”

Leslie stepped back for a while, taking in the appearance of the house and checking it against the directions and address he’d been given in his phone. “Yup... this is it,” he muttered to himself before moving back to the door to try knocking again. He’d never met Wedge before but when his particular predicament came up, people around him were quick to point him to the guy.

The lump in his jacket let out a soft sound and Leslie looked down, concerned etched across his features. The kitten had the saddest eyes Leslie had ever seen.

“Hang in there little one... This guy should be able to help you.”

The people of Sector 7 had always been good to him.

He hadn’t had a real family since the death of his father several years ago but the community had always looked out for him. Despite only being ten years old, he’d stayed in the small home he’d shared with his father but his neighbours had checked on him frequently – the family next door in particular had always opened their doors to him at meal times.

As he grew, he was much more capable of fending for himself. He wasn’t the best cook, but he could manage some basic meals and he worked part time at the weapon store, cleaning and maintaining the weapons.

He had been following AVALANCHE’S exploits with great interest. Unlike the majority of people, he actually believed in their actions. He thought they were doing what was necessary. Shinra was out of control – they were destroying the planet. They needed to be stop and AVALANCHE seemed to be the only people willing to make a stand.

Noctis, wanted to be part of it. He wanted to make a difference. He’d heard whispers and he had his suspicions. He was smart enough to join the dots together. There was a group in particular he had his eye on – a group that spent a lot of time in 7th Heaven. Of course he didn’t know for sure if they were AVALANCHE, but he had his suspicions. It was after the explosion of reactor 1 that he finally approached one of them.

The eerie quiet of three am on a weeknight in the slums would never leave her. Not because it seemed out of place, but because it seemed like above the plate at times. Reminded her of the stillness of the middle of night in her parents house, of being laid awake, staring at the ceiling. This time, she wasn’t staring at the ceiling though, she was staring at the plate, hands wrapped around coffee, as she took a deep breath.

It wasn't meant to wind up that way. At least, that's what Cloud wanted to think; when, in hindsight, he supposed he should have known better. No quick, easy, in-and-out of Shin-Ra property had been exactly... any of that. Despite the way they all seemed to loathe Shin-Ra, their resourcefulness was undeniable, and AVALANCHE wasn't exactly unpredictable. And after blowing up Reactor 1, they had cemented Midgar's watchful eye on their every move. The world was bound to know what they were up to at one point or another, and Shin-Ra had their eyes everywhere.

Still, to think they would be thwarted before they even made it through the warehouse? Unfortunate, to be sure. And Cloud thinks, lying still and breathless amidst rubble, that he ought to up his fees. Ridiculous... They should have known it would be a trap. It was too easy to walk into an apparently empty store house, only to have it collapse on them.

He wasn't even sure where the others were. If they made it out. The last thing he remembered was seeing Sephiroth calling out to them before...