↳ ffvii (final fantasy seven) one shots || vol. 1

fractured memories || scenario - sephiroth

anonymous asked: Hello! Would you please write a sad/fluff/little bit of pain Sephiroth x Reader Drabble. It's up to you. Thank you so much! ✨💖

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warnings: mentions of death, blood and injuries.

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The memories were the worst part.

His smile haunted you now, a ghost of your past. His smile was never a grin, smirk or stretched from ear to ear, it was small, demure, barely an upturn of the lips. Yet it was dazzling all the same, melting away his aloof exterior, but still holding an air of professionalism about it. His smile was a secret, sent discreetly in your direction when you made a joke, when you greeted him, when you jumped back to your feet after sustaining an injury determined to carry on. It was a rare prize, earned only though fierce dedication to the cause, and you were the only winner.

His graceful, elegant voice could send tingles down your spine, grounding you. It rang in your ears like a bad song, plaguing your mind whenever you happened across something that reminded you of him. In the heat of battle you'd hear him criticize your technique, tell you to stand up tall and confident - the enemies would find you an easier target if you curled into yourself. And you found yourself obeying to those words, even without his presence, the scrutinisation as he watched you still hot on your neck even after all these years.

His eyes, a perfect amalgamation of blue and green. The striking cat-like appearance of his pupils. It made him all the more interesting, and it was all too easy to get lost in them. The colour barely differed from the other SOLDIERS, but there was something more to them. Jewels that held all of the answers to life, something men spent their entire lives searching for, succumbing to their own humanity on the doorstep of the answer.

His touch was addictive, the gentle caress against your cheek when he rouses you into consciousness after a particularly hard hit to the head, the tenderness as he helps you wrap up your bloody wounds. Even the harshness of his arm colliding with your stomach when he guides you away from a surprise attack, the electric waves that course through your blood with adrenaline, the pain morphing into pleasurable tingles. The way he had held so tight onto your hand, not enough to hurt you but enough to keep you alive, brow furrowed with concern as you fought the oily black claws of death in your slumber.

The coolness of the tear, the only one you had ever seen him shed, as he gripped onto you tightly with one arm, spare hand wondering over you putting, wondering which deep gash he should put pressure on to stop the blood. It was refreshing when it hit your face, neatly landing on top of all the grime and blood, distracting you from the pain as it slid down your cheek slowly. His soothing voice cracked, his reassuring smile faltering, his eyes glossed over with fear and distress.

So utterly, utterly human.

He was there by your side, there for every step of your recovery. In early days, he would hardly let you sit up on your own, had a doctor to do everything he would do if his responsibilities as a SOLDIER took him away. Uncharacteristically disobedient, willingly ignoring work in place of you, the apple of his eye. The love that seemed to engulf you with every touch, the dedication and whispered promises to never let you be harmed again. He nearly failed you once, but he never would again.

Perhaps you should have noticed. Sephiroth never broke his patterns, he never would have left his work, not even for you. His actions seemed slightly more manic, his smiles even rarer than before to the point where you questioned whether they had existed in the first place. Whenever SHINRA was brought up in conversation, he'd grow suspiciously quiet, his gorgeous eyes flashing with a rage you'd never seen before. He grew even more manic, eventually expressing his belief he was "the chosen one", how he'd lead the planet and you'd be by his side, where you were meant to be. He talks about your attackers, obsesses over them, expressing his vengeful desires, until one day he speaks as if he experienced it, and you don't miss the small bloodstain on the hand that grips yours.

And one day he's gone. Forever. Lost to his own sanity, perhaps always his fate.

It hurts, fractures your heart into a million pieces. How could someone who filled you with such love and joy destroy you so brutally?

The memories hurt the most, the ones of the Sephiroth before, and the ones after too. He became the embodiment evil, but when you start to see him more, what you assume to be a figment of your imagination, but so real you can feel the coolness of his fingers against your skin, you fill with love once more. You know, truly, he will never leave you, even in death.