Death Be Not Proud

Picture of the week

2009-11-04T15:05:08Z

NyASAGI, Hide-Zou as (what I guess is) Ultraman, Hiroki as Winnie the Pooh and Tsunehito looking gorgeous (as per usual) and one can only speculate what Ruiza is.... IT'S WIN!

.

snofles

2009-10-12T16:19:52Z

Perfume AND Vamps? That's like, too much win in one show. Plus the silly subs, I love it XD

is not feeling the love

2009-10-09T09:13:55Z

Totally stolen from karadin

Happiness Meme Day 8 (Belated)

2009-10-01T09:43:58Z

Yesterday was quite a good day, being a wednesday. Lots to make me happy.

Downloading and singing Lady GaGa for the whole of the afternoon....
A conversation that should stay in the past with Georgie about recreation with ducks....

Said conversation came back to haunt me in Japanese today XD

Happiness Meme Day 7 (ON TIME 8D)

2009-09-29T12:25:02Z

Hmm the fact that I just realised that I only have one lesson left today made me happy. Other than that, photoshopping the picture of Sephiroth Sphinx asked me to do yesterday and I've just done was.... hilarious. He's not going to be happy with me now D':

And I'm eating hobnobs. That makes me VERY happy 8D

Happiness Meme Day 5 (also belated D<) and 6

2009-09-28T11:49:17Z

My god, I hate this XD

Yesterday, realising that I had a free today in which to finish my media work I set myself for this weekend - the scene breakdown of my script 8D Now I only have to write it! Yaaay /sarcasm. Oh yes, I got some more tetras, this time Cardinals because they're bigger than neons, to stick in with Gennyfish. He was not greatly impressed.

I think because I'll forget tonight, I'll do today's now.

Extended Project - I've finally worked out a plan of what to do in the lessons. Read and make these flunky notes of samurai and tea ceramonies at home (as is the plan, whether or not I get distracted is another matter) and the slightly more creative stuffs in the lesson. It saves me from lugging around a shed-load of books and then the frustration of forgetting the one I actually need for the lesson. Hurrah!

Happiness Meme Day 4 (also belated)

2009-09-27T11:18:05Z

I am so bad at this thing XD

Starting a new RP with Georgie. It is much fun 8D

Happiness Meme Day 3 (belated)

2009-09-26T11:27:19Z

8D I totally didn't forget.
So for friday, putting my siamese fighting fish (Gennyfish) into his new tank and watching his little adventures around to explore before hiding behind the filter. Bless. I get to get some fish fish soon <3<3

Also reading Sir John Suckling's 'Sonnet II' was pretty sweet. Nothing like some possible S&M in 17th Century Metaphysical poetry.

Happiness Meme Day 2

2009-09-24T12:35:56Z

In Media, I have to write a synopsis for my screenplay (that I haven't technically finished yet) and I finally have an ending! Of both the synopsis and the screenplay.
Big news for me, I'm nasty at endings.

Tagged by Sphinx.

2009-09-23T19:15:43Z

1. Post about something that made you happy today even if it's just a small thing.
2. Do this everyday for eight days without fail.
3. Tag eight (or as many as you want) of your friends to do the same.

Singing Perfume songs in Japanese with Jade... whilst we should have been writing down verbs.

~~Other than that, it was a mediochre day. Gloomy weather; having to sit next to loud people on the bus and my largest koi dying. Not good really.~~

I tag: Anyone left on my F-list that hasn't done this/wants to do it.

I'm insane.

2009-09-09T00:28:09Z

I just spent £13 on the next two volumes of Togainu no Chi. ~~Damn you Forbidden Planet for having them on offer!~~
I was meant to be saving up for the fabric to make my clothes TT___TT

Kidding myself into hating manga was a lot cheaper... oh well, 'least I don't buy Anime DVDs I guess... though Gackt isn't much cheaper.
Good side to this: There's only something like 4/5 volumes to the series 8D

Someone stop me before I blow my last £25 on the new Kingdom Hearts Sephiroth action figure D<

[Fic] Monomania [Sephiroth/Genesis]

2009-09-05T20:52:01Z

Since ff.net is still pissing about ¬_¬

Title: Monomania
Raiting: M
Pairing: Sephiroth/Genesis
Canon: Slightly AU-ed Pre-Crisis Core
Warnings: Smut...
Synopsis: Monomania. n. An obsession with one thing.
AN: sphinxofthenile asked for it, so don't say my childhood obsession got the best of me... I also need some help on how to write horror/suspence.

Night.
A pitch black enveloped half of the planet; making the forest more of a danger than it was under the sun. The Darkness could have concealed anything from a rabbit to an entire platoon of Wutaian warriors. Every rustle of a bush had the SOLDIERs on patrol clutching at the hilts of the swords strapped across their backs. Even those not on direct duty, permitted to rest in their tents until their lookout shifts, lay awake, fearing the silent enemy.

The campfire burned brightly in the centre of the base, throwing stark shadows against the moss-green canvas of the regimented tents. Wood moaned under the intense heat and sparks flew when it cracked. The sounds of burning overcame the low hum of the troops. Normally there would have been laughter, and jokes, and lewd comments that centred around three certain SOLDIERs; games of fantasies and dares, and rowdy chatter that would get them suspended if three certain pairs of ears happened to hear.

However, that night, there was only a low murmur. All the SOLDIERs’ interests simultaneously peaked: there was no thought of anything but the topic at hand. Fear hung heavy in the air, but not of a reprimand.

"Second Class Maynard is still ill," one SOLDIER whispered and roughly gestured towards the tent a few rows away – the Medic's tent – as though it wasn't already well known to all his comrades. "And Second Class Anders' condition hasn't improved."

A few mutters broke out between the armoured members of the crowd. "Is it contagious?"

The first SOLDIER shook his head. Although he wasn't certain, and he only knew what he knew because he overheard the medic's conversations from his own tent. And even they had no clue what was the cause. Their only diagnosis – blood loss. But even an untrained fool could reach that conclusion. Each victim had been found still bleeding from cuts to the neck.

Something untoward was happening in the camp and the superior officers were saying nothing about it.

"I heard that the Wuts have this monster-"

"Yeah, you hear everything with the size of those ears-"

"Shut up, Howell! He might be right. Think about it… they've all suffered from blood loss, from a gash in the neck."

The SOLDIERs stared at the masked speaker. His point stood unspoken but stark in the silence. Could it really be?

Howell's lips twisted, afraid of the conclusion. He reacted to the fear the same way many would have, if only it wasn't the only explanation that made more sense than delirium and forest rabbits out to get their revenge.

"C'mon Fulke," the SOLDIER dismissed with a wave of his hand. "You've been listening to Rhapsodos and his fairytale obsession too much. Vampires? Where would the Wuts get hold of a vampire?" He broke out into a laugh. As nervous as it was, others joined in, until the only one not laughing was the one who suggested it in the first place. Instead of enduring the humiliation, Fulke stood up and went back to his tent for the night.

For a moment, it was like nothing was wrong.

Green eyes stared at the raucous group of men clad in purple, blue and black with a curious disdain. They were as uninteresting as always, spouting insults and shooting each other down, throwing animosity around the campfire like it was cheap whiskey, and then the following morning they would be risking their lives for each other without a second thought.

Dullards. All of them. Their fabrications and rumours were useless.

Sighing, Sephiroth turned back to the hardy metal desk in the centre of the command tent. The ground around it had been trodden to flat, bare dirt – the grass vanished without contemplation within the week they first set up. Charts and maps, the ones that marked the gained and lost land of the monopoly of war lay discarded on another desk, pushed against the wall of the tent, where usually writing equipment and refreshments for the officers were kept.

The main table was a litter of SOLDIER profiles and medical history and the latest reports. All said the same story: a healthy young man from an average family, with his whole life set ahead of him – a fine career in SOLDIER. Different men all suffering from the same cocktail of causes. Exsanguination and a crushed trachea. And those two still grasping onto some hold of life were suffering from a mako poisoning that the usual antihistamines just wasn't clearing up.

"It's like the mako has mutated. Our drugs just aren't recognising it."

“Have the Wutaians developed some sort of biochemical weapon that reacts to average SOLDIER members?”

"Possibly. But that would not explain the other symptoms, General."

Sephiroth glanced at the pile of paper on the table before shuffling them into one stack and sorting them out to the SOLDIERs they related to. The order was simple and one he was used to after years of combat. Profile, death certificate and report.

10 SOLDIERs, a mix of Third and Second Classes, all dead in two weeks. Two more were still dying, lost in a coma that threatened to never dissipate.

With the lack of sense; where in the lack of answers, logic falls through a hole in the floor, Sephiroth could excuse the troops of their foolish murmurs. As long as they fulfilled their duties, they could dream all they want. And blame the mysterious deaths on beasts from Genesis' favourite epics.

Before he could quell it, the man's name brought a frustrated sigh to Sephiroth's breath. His fingers tightened around his phone and he cursed the primitive Wutaian wilderness that did not allow for a conversation-standard signal for a distance over half a mile.

The Scarlet Commander's camp was almost twice that distance; the other side of a strip of the Wutaian resistance's land. And that land would be hard to gain. The rebels were invisible, killing all SOLDIER operatives swiftly, without even being seen.

Ninjas. Sephiroth had heard them be named. They trained in stealth and silence and killed quickly. For the first few days, these black assassins had been held accountable, until the first survivor was found to have extreme mako poisoning. He died the next night from an acute antipathy to the new substance in his blood.

"Genesis," Sephiroth whispered under his breath. The red markings on the map on the side desk only helped to further the sense of alienation from his lover.

Was his camp suffering the same deadly enigma?

Perhaps strangely, there was no doubt in the other's being alive. Genesis was a SOLDIER, a First Class and a Commander. And the liveliest, most dynamic man the general knew. And if Sephiroth had a hard time felling him in a simple spar, then no war could handle him in a flat-out, no house rules battle.

Sephiroth sat down in the chair behind the desk and held his head up in his hands. Streams of silver slipped over his shoulders to obscure his vision. When he let his mind wander, he could hear Genesis' mischievous chuckle – the dark, teasing sound he made when up to no good, but that always promised something fantastic.
And the scent of him, everything that should be forbidden simply because it was everything that Sephiroth desired. It was so strong at times, almost as if the man himself was standing besides him – not fighting a battle miles away.

Too much stress was taking its toll. More than just the too-close-to-home murders, there was a war going on around him – invisible enemies threatening to cut off their supplies – and he missed Genesis… more than he ever thought he would.

Two months without hearing that voice, or physically smelling his hair, skin and cologne; hearing the boisterous SOLDIERs fantasise over what they'd love to do to the redhead should he ever turn his attention on them, were taking a physical effect on the stoic general. But he never let it show. He needed to remain strong, that beacon of strength that he always had been for his troops. For the sake of ShinRa's victory.

The noise outside suddenly doubled, a racket that was hard to decipher. No one voice could be made out: just a mass of hysterics. Sephiroth raised his head and marched across the tent to entrance.

"General! Sir!" A Third Class ran up to him, out of breath from sheer trepidation. "Another's just been found, Sir."

Sephiroth curtly nodded and paced over to the tent where all of the SOLDIERs had congregated. There was a lamp on inside the tent, and the shadow of a medic leaning over, assessing the immediate scene, was thrown against the wall.

The crowd parted immediately the second they saw the silver haired First approaching. Silence fell.

"Second Class Fulke, General. He's dead," the medic announced when he ventured out of the tent.

"He was with us up until twenty minutes ago!" one of the huddled SOLDIERs called out. "Until he lef-"

"This is your fault, Howell!" A First turned to the SOLDIER in question. He grabbed at the collar of his sweater and shook violently. "You and your big mou-"

"Enough!" Sephiroth ordered. It was low and quiet, but the hostility died immediately.

When did they all lose their minds?

Taking a moment, Sephiroth waited for the next fear-driven outbreak. There was none, only SOLDIER's heads turning in all directions like frightened rabbits. With the victim so freshly departed, whatever it was – man or monster – was surely still within the camp. Maybe if it were any other being, the SOLDIERs would've split up and hunted it down… If only they knew what they were looking for.

Sephiroth made a silent gesture to the medic and followed him into the small tent. It was just like one could expect of a troop. A large green bag was against one wall, a low camp bed against the other. A photo of a young girl was propped up in a plain silver frame next to the pillow. On the pillow was the unmasked head of a SOLDIER. Eyes glazed over and pure blue; his neck exposed at a distorted angle that held the gash in his flesh wide open. Blood was still moist and warm, not even showing signs of coagulating yet.

The only signs of a struggle were the twisted sheets under the body and the vicious bruises around the man's neck. There was only one thing Sephiroth knew that could overpower a Second Class. But he knew nothing that was stealthy enough to kill and escape a camp, when all SOLDIERs patrols were on high alert.

Maybe they were dancing with ghosts.

Genesis would laugh if he heard of Sephiroth thinking such thoughts.

Sephiroth inhaled sharply, not letting himself succumb to the same foolishness as his men. And then it hit him. There was a scent lingering inside that was certainly not one that he ever expect of a SOLDIER's tent. It was far too… refined. Far too spicy…

Far too Genesis.

The distance between them really was taking a profound effect. To have his subconscious slip the redhead into a situation like this, as if to soften the blows of his troops dropping like flies under his nose, was impractical as well as obtuse. He turned and entered the open again, where the phantom aroma was whisked away under pure apprehension.

The SOLDIERs still stood, wide-eyed where they did not wear their uniform silver helmets. They were mice, clustered closely together in a nest that offered no sanctuary. It was like a cage. They could not leave without direct orders, and Sephiroth could not move without direction from the President himself. All they could do was stay and wait to see if they would be next.

The sense of camaraderie within the ranks of SOLDIERs had never been more prominent. But hostility was also at an all time high. Fistfights were getting increasingly more common, and increasingly harder to break up. Mass hysteria, cooped up like chickens and a complete lack of privacy was driving each male insane. They slept in a large congregation around the campfire, where the light and company brought a security. Sephiroth recalled that Genesis had read to him of the behaviour before.

Commonly seen in animals: safety in numbers.

But in the pack, there were those always left on the outside, the vulnerable ones that the predator always picked off first. In the case of the camp – the night patrols.

The first of these – the fourteenth body – had been found two nights after Fulke. The scene was the same: little struggle, only scuffed grass on the ground, and where the SOLDIER had fought against his assailant, the bark of the tree he remained propped against grazed flesh. The throat was cut cleanly, blood darkened from oxidisation and glistening with the morning's dew.

The general found himself torn. The SOLDIERs wanted the patrols to be called off, to complete the fireside pack, every man side by side so they could force the murderer out into the open to be killed before it got another chance to strike. But the patrols were a necessary formality. They were at war, they could not risk Wutaian troops, whether the elusive ninja or soldiers, infiltrating their compound and sabotaging their equipment and weapons.

For the most part, Sephiroth wanted to solve the ordeal as passionately as his subordinates did, but he always had a duty of care, as their general, to protect them from the tangible enemy. So he made what was – in the eyes of the SOLDIERs – the ultimate sacrifice. Blinded by terror, they didn't even take into account the fact that Sephiroth was the most powerful being on the planet, and not even the enigmatic killer could claim him. At least, Sephiroth himself hoped that it couldn't.
Genesis would surely revive him and then kill him again just for dying in the first place.

The forest was near silent; only cicadas chirped their little beats over the distant hum of the frogs that lived around a pool a hundred yards through a dense, lush thicket. The full moon was high in the sky, shedding a shimmering silver light upon everything that the orange glow of the campfire could not reach. Behind him, his fellow SOLDIERs muttered amongst themselves, a mixture of doubts and morale boosters.

Sephiroth could hear their hearts as one collective beating.

It was the distant corners, furthest from the fire, medic, mess and command tents that were the darkest. And where the first victims had been found, cold in their sleeping bags come morning. Even Sephiroth, he who feared nothing, the revered Silver Tiger, felt unsettled as he walked through the area. It was unfortunate, that as the hotbed of most of the murders – and where the last body had been found that morning – it was where he had to stand alone for longer than he would've desired.

The general found relief in distracting himself, something that Angeal had taught him to do during an incredibly mundane mission in Junon years ago. He thought of his final night in Midgar, the fine meal he had had with his two friends followed by some harmless banter over a few bottles of wine to divert them from the thought that the following morning he would be leading hundreds of men to the slaughter.
He thought of the final night on the boat over to the Eastern continent; of how Genesis looked, flushed and frustrated, as he gagged himself to stop screaming too loudly. And then the look of distress in blue eyes as they docked in the morning.
Sephiroth never did get the chance to question that expression, and the wonder still haunted him.

He thought of what they would do the moment they found themselves in their apartment alone. Sephiroth was fully intent on reintroducing the redhead's body in every way possible to himself. Rediscovering every curve and contour; immersing himself fully into that spicy scent that followed Genesis everywhere he was. The perfect compliment to his being, like fire, like cinnamon. A scent so—

Prominent in the air. Sephiroth's eyes flashed open, darting around the area but seeing nothing. He calmed, though still tense where his muscles gripped onto his sword.

Then there was a rustle in the bushes to his left; a quiet laugh barely audible under the shrill song of Masamune striking the sound's location.

The bush was sliced almost cleanly in two, shaking from the shock, but revealing a flash of red leather as it wavered in a sudden, dodging movement.

"Well, that has to be the most vicious greeting I've ever gotten from you," Genesis' voice called out in the darkness, amused and flighty. As soon as Sephiroth lowered the tip of Masamune back to the ground and allowed the sword to disperse, the man stepped out from behind the thick trunk he had been standing behind.

He was pale in the light of the moon, something Sephiroth had rarely seen him in; eyes glowing brightly in the darkness. The first thought that crossed the general's mind was that Genesis not looking too well. Had the redhead been remembering to take the medication Hollander had begged Sephiroth remind him about… before the two had been split apart and sent to different areas?

But then the thought that this was Genesis burst into fruit and Sephiroth immediately lunged for his lover, embracing him deeply.

"Now that's more of a welcome," the redhead laughed. His arms found their way around Sephiroth's waist, tugging him closer as he angled his head to press his lips against the man's neck.

Just as he fantasised, Sephiroth breathed in everything he had missed. "What are you doing here?" he asked in a whisper.

"To see you, obviously. I finally realised how much I need you." Genesis' mouth turned frantic; his hands flattened to slide across Sephiroth's back. "What's a mile to sate a starving thirst?"

Scoffing, Sephiroth pushed Genesis an arm’s length away. "Not much at all, now why are you here?"

Genesis' expression darkened and he gripped a tight grasp around the younger's wrist, pulling him through the new cleft in the foliage and shoving him hard against the body of the nearest tree of a suitable size. The depth of the blue of his eyes was something so much more than Sephiroth was used to seeing. More than lust and simple want, it was a thirst – a burning need.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"You might as well be. I won't be with you when you wake."

Sephiroth's lips quirked upwards as Genesis lowered himself down to his knees. The ground must've been uneven and rocky, but all that showed on the redhead's face was a smirk. Hands worked their way over black leather in the same sensuous movement.

Genesis felt real, for the first time in weeks. The mouth that covered over his hardening member through the confines of his uniform was warm; more vivid than his memory. And his hair was moist and silky to the touch; leaves and small twigs matted it as evidence of the journey across the forest from his own camp.

Before Sephiroth had any real chance to make sense of what was going on, scarlet fingers were already releasing his cock from the tight confines of his trousers. He could only numb his gasp as Genesis took him past his lips.

There was something in the intimate touch, perhaps the most intimate one person could be with another, that was so familiar in the security and danger it evoked, that brought the general back to himself. Thoughts of the war, of duty and honour, of the murders and the killer still at large flew straight from his mind as Genesis began to bob his head with a languorous ease.

"Gen." Sephiroth tightened his fingers in cinnamon red hair, and tugged gently. Genesis complied and parted with a lingering open-mouthed kiss to the glistening head. As soon as he was back to standing, Sephiroth found his lover's plush lips firmly against his neck again. They were hot against his flesh, almost burning in urgency.

The redhead's fervour was consuming, incapacitating; as intense as a southern tropical storm so that all Sephiroth could do was what was demanded of him and ride it out. It was what he always had to do if Genesis was in any mood of heightened emotion before arousal sauntered its way back into his being with devastating consequences.

He set his hands on sharply angled hips, able to feel them under all the SOLDIER's armour, and anchored himself back in.

Genesis’ left hand snaked its way back down Sephiroth's pale, hard abdomen, tracing down the dips of defined muscle to coil back around the swollen flesh of his cock. Immediately, a rhythm was set: a frantic jerking of a wrist more suited for calligraphy than warfare.

"Gen," Sephiroth breathed out, resting his head back against the uneven bark of the tree that supported him. Maybe it was crawling with bugs, and carpeted in moss, but he didn't care. Genesis was surrounding him in every way he could've desired, rendering all senses thoroughly possessed. "Don't you want-?"

"In due time," the redhead hushed. He repeated it again, lower, almost a whisper in his lover's ear.

Sephiroth barely felt the hand that crept up his arm, and Genesis' lips pulling back; replaced with the cold metal of a carefully sharpened blade. Even the pain ceased to register, only pleasure… the pleasure from the hand, and the lips that resumed their position. The pleasant sensations still lingered even after Genesis withdrew his hand, preferring to use it to tilt Sephiroth's head further to the side to give himself better access to the open wound.

Slit throats…

Whether he was conscious of the action or not, Sephiroth let him continue, groaning from the feeling and pulling him closer. It was like a strange exchange – the cool of his body yielding to Genesis's forceful, pressured kisses, and the debilitating intoxication of the bliss that the redhead returned.

Mako poisoning…

From sounds, let alone the vigour of his mouth, it seemed that the experience was mutual for Genesis. If all of SOLDIER were wines, Sephiroth would be the highest quality vintage; the pride of the cellar. The others were common, without substance, watered down and expendable. A bottle a night was consumed, just to keep the taste quelled. But Sephiroth was one so rich and intense in flavour, only half a glass was needed for whole satisfaction. A dark taste; so overwhelming.

Though the contented haze of his mind, Sephiroth felt his breaths growing heavier, and harder to maintain. Genesis' fingers were tight around his throat, and getting tighter as the scent of death approaching grew stronger.

Crushed trachea…

Green eyes widened a little too late. Too weak to defend himself, in any way, Sephiroth succumbed to his killer just like fourteen other SOLDIERs from his camp.

In a cold sweat, Sephiroth bolted upright. The darkness that surrounded him was hot, humid and heavily scented. A light weight covered his lower body; the smooth touch and whispers as it moved were those of silk bed sheets. As he exhaled, a slim leg casually hooked around his own, and a soft murmur sounded out as Genesis pulled himself closer in his slumber.

Slowly, Sephiroth raised his left hand to his neck, only to find a moistness from sweat and a sticky residue left from lips that were fresh from the wineglass. He could still taste the liquid on his tongue, and smell it on the bed sheets, on Genesis' skin.

He remembered the evening, a pleasant meal with Genesis and Angeal… the extraneous conversations and games of eloquence over fine alcohol, before the darker haired of a trio retired for the night, knowing that the two lovers would need time together before departing for war the following morning.

…They hadn't even left Midgar.

Sephiroth sighed, running the hand on his neck back down to the arm around his waist. He followed the smooth skin to the shoulder, turning onto his side as he did so. Over the tousled mop of fiery hair that had buried itself into his chest, Sephiroth had a clear view of the bedside table Genesis had claimed for his own. And behind the clock that glared red numbers of the early morning, was the small white and blue bottle that the general had never seen his lover without. Except for in his dream.

As he leant over to retrieve the bottle simple to inspect it, Genesis stirred, releasing another mumble before opening his eyes.

"Seph?" he croaked out, voice still a little raw. He stretched in a habitual, feline way of waking before shuffling up to rest his back against the headboard as his lover was.

"What are these?" Sephiroth shook the bottle slightly. From the ring of the pills inside, it sounded near full.

"Mineral supplements," Genesis said simply. "Iron to be precise."

"Iron."

"I'm sure I've told you before that I can't digest iron from food?"

Sephiroth hummed. He vaguely recalled questioning the redhead about some of his additional medication when they first met, and due to the older's petulant reaction to the inquiry, Sephiroth had never mentioned it again.

"So, it's either these," Genesis took the bottle back from Sephiroth and placed it on the table once more. A low chuckle escaped his curved lips. "Or I might develop a sudden penchant for blood."

The silver haired male scoffed slightly, internally relieved as he was torn. What if the dream wasn't just a dream but a premonition? What if—

"It would be interesting though, wouldn't it?" the redhead settled back down to sleep. "I wonder if you'd taste as good as you smell,"

Sephiroth grunted, but followed the movement. And smiled as Genesis nestled back into him. The words that followed were not meant as an insult, no matter how callously they were spoken. It was just one more thing he had learnt about his lover over the years.

"You have no imagination, do you, Moonbeam?"

"None at all."

[Fic] Priorities [Sephiroth/Genesis]

2009-09-03T00:01:34Z

totally aced my Japanese exam *glee* and I celebrate with the Mpreg I totally remembered I wrote this morning :]

Title: Priorities
Rating: T
Pairing/Characters: Sephiroth/Genesis, Kadaj, Yazoo.
Canon: My Mpreg canon.
Warnings: None.
Synopsis: Kadaj brings his first boyfriend home for dinner and suffers Sephiroth's overprotective parental issues.
AN: No clue where this came from, or even why Kadaj is automatically gay... Other than that. Genesis is always prepared 8D

His name was Alex and he seemed a nice enough boy. Tall, blonde and handsome; the second son of one of the materia scientists that worked on the 49^th Floor. He was polite and cultured and intelligent – in essence, all Genesis could want in a first boyfriend for his eldest.

His name was Alex and he seemed a nice enough boy, but Sephiroth had already marked him as public enemy number 1. And all because the boy was showing a genuine interest in Kadaj…

Genesis had planned a pleasant meal, he recalled, but he spent most of it languidly pushing peas across his plate with a fork. His eyes were focused solely upon Sephiroth in a seat across the table, wedged between Kadaj and Alex like his very presence was a six-foot thick concrete wall build to keep them separate. For as long as possible.

And the man acted so cool and blasé about it, seeing nothing wrong; occasionally glanced up at Genesis and smiled, and commented on how nice the meal was.

The two teens sporadically glanced at each other and smiled, each time Kadaj mouthing an apology before Sephiroth snapped his head to look at him, instantly silencing him. Similarly, conversation was curt and clipped, more like how Sephiroth spoke to executives and subordinates than family members; more interrogating the poor boy than showing an active interest.

The redhead sat passively though his foot conveniently slipped into Sephiroth's shin whenever something inappropriate or something that conflicted with Genesis' beliefs passed through his lips. As far as he was concerned, there was no need for this. Protectiveness was one thing… home-wrecking was another.

And then the entire scene had tessellated to the main living room, with the exception of Kadaj's little brother who had scurried away to the quieter territories of his room, preferring to re-enact battles that his parents had planned, fought and won with his mismatched figures rather than be a spectator in silent psychological warfare. There were times when Genesis felt oh-so-close to joining him.

Soon enough though, as the evening was drawing to a close and soon Alex would have to depart back to his parent's house outside of the ShinRa building, Sephiroth stood and took the young blonde outside of the apartment for… one of those talks that fathers apparently give to suitors to identify whether their intentions were honourable enough to respect. And Goddess forbid – allow. Angeal had already given Alex his seal of approval, which had to carry some weight – the man being able to sniff out despicable behaviour from one hundred miles away.

The poor boy looked terrified as he scampered behind Sephiroth's officious strut. Without doubt he was certain that past that door stood his own demise. Genesis felt as pitiful for the teen as he was angry at Sephiroth. They had spoken about the general's evident protectiveness before Alex had even arrived, but it stubbornly remained, never letting its presence be forgotten. Not for one moment.

As soon as the door swung shut Kadaj turned to Genesis, green eyes flaring in his temper. He was the perfect mix of his parents – every resemblance of his father with every ounce of his mother's temperament. At 18 it was hard to see why some other teen hadn't tried to snap him up before… then again, he was Sephiroth's first-born son.

"Why is he intent on ruining my life?!" was spoken loud enough that Sephiroth was sure to have heard it on the other side of the front door. And so he should, Genesis looked at his son, eyes making clear his pride. Proud that Kadaj had finally found someone brave enough with enough confidence to present himself to two legends and manage to impress one… and that Genesis had taught him just to be a miniature, silver version of himself.

Genesis sighed and slung his legs over the other side of the sofa where he sat and transferred his gaze to his wine glass. "His speciality, I find."

Huffing in frustration, Kadaj flung himself back into the armchair, arms crossed and lips pouting. "It's not fair. He's going to scare Alex awa-"

"-if Alex likes you that much, there's nothing Sephiroth can do," Genesis assured with a smile. One of those smiles that made children instinctually know that their mother knew best and was always right. Without a question, contrary comment or doubt. Sometimes Genesis loved being a mother.

There was another sharp expulsion of air before silence between the pair. The only sounds came from the muffled murmurs from the corridor outside the apartment, the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchenette in the far corner of the room and Yazoo making strange noises and laughing in his room down the hall.

Then, what seemed like an eternity later, the door opened again and Sephiroth stepped into the room. Alone. But there was no blood on his suit, nor had that stoic expression left his face. Silently, the general made his way over to the sofa; picked Genesis' legs up before sitting down and settling them back over his lap.

Kadaj's gaze flickered between the door, his missing boyfriend and his father. "What did you do to him?"

Clearing his throat in a gesture that failed to give him any authority, Sephiroth simply replied. "His father called and requested him back home immediately."

Genesis rolled his eyes and lowered his glass down to the small lamp-table besides the large black leather couch. "Where are your manners, Sephiroth?" He then turned back up to Kadaj, whilst he fished around for something in his trouser pocket. "Catch up with him, Kadaj, walk him home." With a grin, the redhead tossed a small, square plastic wrapper at his son.

Kadaj caught it out of instinct and inspected it with a single glance in the palm of his hand. The expression on his face was somewhat stunned… and excited and all those other emotions that made Genesis' heart feel that little bit lighter. "You're the best, mum," the teen beamed, quickly thanked him and rushed out through the front door.

"I try," Genesis said to the empty air. But the calm didn't last long. Not when the temperature of the room was dropping rapidly. And the hands on his legs were gripping tighter and tighter.

"You just gave him-"

"What? My condition might have passed onto him." Genesis shot back bluntly. Turning to Sephiroth, for the first time he saw the fright and disappointment that haunted mako green eyes.

There wasn't a question of why. Kadaj was growing up; he wasn't that sweet little boy any more, and soon Sephiroth would have to transfer all his duty of care over him to someone else. And after all the years, seeing Kadaj grow from a bump in Genesis' abdomen to the charming young man he was now, Sephiroth didn't exactly want to.

Sephiroth sighed and lessened his grip on Genesis' legs. "I still don't like it."

Smirking, Genesis shuffled across the sofa so he was nestled tightly against his lover, breathing hot air down his neck where the collar of his white dress shirt failed to cover. "Don't you remember when we were that age? The things we got up to?" There was no shame in where Genesis let his hands wander; no contemplation in undressing his lover like he had oh-so-many times before.

"Yes," Sephiroth muttered, wholly unimpressed. He did not yield to the hands that caressed him, although he did move his own to transfer Genesis onto his lap so he could look straight into mischievous blue eyes that hadn't lost a single speck of colour and beauty over the years. "That's what I was warning Alex about."

Birthday Wishes!

2009-08-10T19:11:45Z

Happy Birthday to _ice_lady_ !!!!!!!!!!</span>

The ShinRaCest I promised a year and a day ago is on its way 8D

Lunch Time Lulz.

2009-08-09T14:16:00Z

After watching my new MARS Live DVD last night, the conversation over the lunchtable this afternoon took a rather weird turn.

My mother was discussing the size of Gackt's penis.

I died.

Kysis on Koakuma Heaven

2009-07-27T00:40:39Z

"It's like techno and an 80s power ballad had dirty sex in the back of a gay club"

Says it all, really?

8D

2009-07-24T11:38:57Z

Chaos now owns one shiny copy of DIABOLOS. Yaaay!

Shame it's the only album I can buy for under £20 D':

AAAAAAAAARGH

2009-07-21T12:23:07Z

No drinking water....
                                    No coffee....
                                                          Until Thursday?
                                                            *dies*

Meme: see how unpopular I am 8D

2009-07-13T16:47:50Z

The numbers will say it all. Anyway. Kysis tagged me, because secretly, I think she's worried that hanging upside for too long is going to cause perminant damage. Not like there's anything else to do right now D':
College work is too daunting right now. So have a meme.

1) Which was/is your favorite to write?
2) Which character is your favorite to write about?
3) Do you use OCs?
4) Do you pair canon characters with OCs?
5) What are your muses nomming on right now?

And I have about 50 more to upload to ff.net *dies*

1) I do miss writing The Eleventh Hour, despite its shitness and the fact I was still pretty new to proper fanfic, and was still developing... everything. It's horrific to read back now XD but the story was somewhat okay, plus its about vampires, which I still love, love, love. From the G100 side of things, There's Trouble In Paradise was fun to write, because I just enjoy evil!Sephiroth... that or Displace and Forget/Paradise Lost for obvious reasons.

2) Well, looking at the stories here, about 90% of them star Genesis. I do like writing as him because he's a fun, fun characters. And blatently gay. I also did like writing as Sho and Kei because they're such angst buckets. I miss my angst. Someone give me some angsty bunnies. I need to write some more Moonchild fics... Georgie will want me to, no doubt....

3) So far the only story here with OCs are in The Eleventh Hour... they are all based off old friends of mine, which actually might lead to the reason why I quit it XD Hah. Other than that, The Ignorance, It Was bliss stars yours truly as the magical summon from angeal's pants (see dA chibi comics for an explanation). Then there is the first non-coursework prose appearance of my lovely OC Vampire, Argent - the main protagonist of the screenplay I'm writing in media. He was in the story where Genesis bought a book... which currently isn't on ff.net D:

4) I used to. But I don't now. The line between OC and Mary Sue is too narrow for me to pull off nicely. I used to all the time, and looking back, those characters are so painfully Mary Sue and.... somewhat self-insertions of my old, emo self. Which is baaaad. BAAAAD.

5) My muses were omnomnomming on a legion of smutty bunnies that decided to set up camp in my brain, but it seems that they've gone again now *sighs* Apart from the obligatory Sephiroth/Genesis that has so strongly taken root in my heart, I'm itching to write my screenplay for media... I have to do all the planning and stuff first, which is gonna be reeeeally fun <3

CHAOS NEEDS HELP!

2009-07-09T16:53:46Z

For my media work – which I need to get a distinction for to get into my chosen University course – I have to do a questionnaire to find out what an audience requires to enjoy a film of the genre I am writing this project for.
I'm no wizz at making questionnaires but it makes sense.

So, if you would be so kind as to give me a hand and answer this questionnaire, I shall be forever in you debt.<3<3

If you could copy and paste the questionnaire into the comment box and answer accordingly please...

Before we begin, for analysis purposes, could you please include your age?

Section 1 – Content
Please quote the most relevant number to your opinions

A) Which aspects do you deem important in a Vampire film?
5 – Most. 3 – Middle. 1 – Irrelevant

Violence/Fighting/Action -
Blood Exposure/Gore -
Gothic Content -
Sexuality of the Characters -

B) How important is it that the protagonist wins in the ending in a Vampire film?
5 – Most. 3 – Middle. 1 - Irrelevant

C) How important is it that the antagonist wins in the ending in a Vampire film?
5 – Most. 3 – Middle. 1 – Irrelevant.

D) How comfortable are you with a homoerotic content?
5- Most. 3 – Middle. 1 – Irrelevant.

Section 2 – Style
Please give written answers.

A) What things does a film need to make it Gothic?
Please list e.g. 'lots of blood, dark lighting, little dialogue; more violence/gore etc

B) What is your favourite Vampire film?
Please give clear reasons relating to narrative structure; how characters/content are portrayed.

C) What would you like to see in a new, original vampire film that is different to what has already been produced?
Please give clear answers e.g. less female/female content. More focus on the hierarcht of the social structure of Vampires

Birthday Fic...ness 8D

2009-07-09T11:52:15Z

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GEORGIE, MY LOVE!
Thanks for (almost) always being there and keeping me company during the boring hours at college <3

Title: Fit For Purpose
Raiting: T
Pairing: Sephiroth/Genesis (though mostly implied)
Canon: Pre-Crisis Core.
Warnings: Ooh, so much fluff.
Synopsis: Genesis was rooting around in his stuff from Banora and found something Sephiroth just can't understand.
AN: Her birthday. Her prompt. 8D

Genesis had been in his room for hours. The silence was sublime, but unsettling. Once Angeal had warned that nothingness was suspect and to be feared. Occasionally, Sephiroth glanced up from his paperwork, but saw nothing but the old, black leather recliner that Genesis usually occupied when reading. The left arm was strangely distorted, the stuffing being compacted by years of having legs slung lazily over it.

The lack of sufficient distraction was distracting.

Knowing that he would get no work done without the gentle soundtrack of accented poetry, or at least nothing to drive him to finish quickly, Sephiroth sighed and stood. It was peculiar working in the scarlet First’s apartment as it was; the fabulously decadent décor and sense of Genesis’ inherent wealth Sephiroth found stifling. There were times when he could understand why Angeal – a down-to-earth country boy through and through – felt uncomfortable.

The door of Genesis’ room was a little way down the hall, having the bathroom and private office (or a storage room in disguise) coming first in the narrow corridor. Paintings lined the metal walls of different sizes like a timeline of Genesis’ life. There was one of he and Angeal at what Sephiroth supposed was school. Then there was Genesis and his younger brother, who couldn’t have been more than two or three, if Genesis’ rosy cheeks betrayed his age. Another of the siblings was next to it, with the latest black-haired addition.

Lastly, closet to the door way, was a photo a couple of years old of the two First Class lovers on their first excursion to Banora that Angeal had taken from under the shade of a fruit-laden apple tree. It was bright and colourful – qualities needed when living in the dreary mako capital – and, as Genesis would say, adorable. Such things could certainly not be associated with the photographs that the lovers took of themselves when left alone with a camera for too long.

Well, colourful was a debateable observation.

Sephiroth placed a bare hand upon the cold metal of the handle, but would not enter without permission. Forcing himself into the room would give Genesis the wrong ideas, and then his work would be neglected until the morning. However, when no response was given to his patient knock, there was no choice but to intrude.

Inside, the overhead lights shone brightly. Genesis usually loathed them, preferring his scented, coloured candles which, as Angeal would laugh and say, gave the room the classification of ‘boudoir’, which was not a proper term for a man’s room. Genesis, however was more than content.

Genesis himself was sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, the skewed sheets littered with old books and objects. He was hunched over in casual dress, working at something tentatively in slim, careful fingers.

Sensing the drop in temperature due to the opening of the door and Sephiroth's arrival, Genesis looked up and smiled. There was a fierce concentration lurking in his eyes. “Afternoon, Moonbeam,”

Sephiroth let his gaze wander from that pretty, androgynous face that looked so much more feminine when not clad head-to-toe in armour and leather. In Genesis’ hands was a mess of thin plastic, brightly coloured and twisted into a chaotic ball with neither a start nor an end. “What is that?” He gestured to it curiously before lowering himself to his lover’s side.

“I was going through my old stuff and I found my slinky and… I’m trying to untangle it,”

“You don’t seem to have progressed much with it,” Sephiroth noted. He spared a look to the white boxes by the large built-in wardrobe that had been commissioned when Genesis was first promoted to the SOLDIER elite and therefore given his own extensive apartment. They were brimming with strange novelties like nothing he had ever seen, as well as more photographs. It was hard to tell if Genesis loved the visual memories or just himself.

Auburn hair fell back into place concealing a vast majority of his face as Genesis put his attention once more into his troubled belonging. "It's better than it seems, trust me."

Long ago Sephiroth had left to retrieve his paperwork and returned back to the room – breaking Genesis' cardinal rule that no work was to enter the place he slept and preened and pleasured - but he didn't seem to mind so much now. In fact, Sephiroth would've gone as far as to say that his company was welcome.

Then Genesis sounded a sweet victory and flung his arms wide. A complete, perfect spiral dangled languidly from his index fingers. "Done it!" he cried, never looking so accomplished in years.

Sephiroth stared in bemusement. The 'slinky', as it had been called over the time passed - along with 'you bastard' - rolled from palm to palm in a strange, canon movement of each separate section. It was interesting to look at, no doubt but the entertainment value was… questionable at best.

"What does it do?"

Cracking into a smile, Genesis pushed himself to his feet, stretched out briefly and stood grinning down at the general. "That is a very good question. Follow me."

"We are going to be reprimanded for this, may I remind you," Sephiroth mumbled dutifully as he trudged up the usually sectioned-off red carpeted stairs to the highest level of the ShinRa building's great entrance hall. Genesis was already at the top, not a care in the world tainting his shining features. It wasn't as if ShinRa would really do anything to their top SOLDIERs… and they were only having a little fun on a Sunday.

"This is what a slinky does." The redhead knelt, placing the object on the top step before he nudged it gently into motion. That odd movement, like the legs of a centipede, returned as it walked down the stairs, past Sephiroth until it completed the red and set off down the blue, all the way to the ground floor.

"You spend hours untangling that thing… for that?" Sephiroth huffed, joining the pleased Commander at the summit.

His reply was an enthusiastic nod. "Now, go fetch it and bring it back up here."

Feeling The Fiyaaaaaaaah

2009-07-02T15:55:41Z

ENGLAND: WHEN DID IT GET SO DAMN HOT?!

More WORD meme because no one else has had any recently D':

2009-06-30T16:58:47Z

Given by Georgie... I noticed this morning I only have 10 days left at college... and then Summer!! <3<3

Reply to this meme by yelling "Words!" and I will give you five words that remind me of you. Then post them in your LJ and explain what they mean to you.

I. Whale - I guess she means this of the bioluminescent type. Well, the B!Whale was my invention, somehow coming from a conversation about Kei and Sho (Moonchild) having sex on the beach, because I'm like that... and how we could hide in the dunes watching on the pretense of watching bioluminescent whales(which obviously don't exist).... My mind works in strange ways. Anyway. I kinda like whales and then I don't. They're a bit boring, tbh, but very beautiful and enigmatic and I did cry in The Crocodile Hunter when they all beached themselves D':

II. Tsunehito - The totally adorable, totally 25 year old bassist from D. Not only has he beeeeautiful big eyes and a very pretty face, he also seems like a really fun guy. Watch the making of Ouka Same Saki ni Keri (or whatever it is) if you don't believe me. Anyway, he's also a very good bassist or seems like one to me XD and I do like bassists, because I'm hopeless at playing them... despite having one D':

III. Hobnobs - I can't remember how this happened, only that they are a delicious biscuit and the last time I had them properly was sitting opposite West Quay in town with Georgie. That was fun. I preferably like the dark chocolate ones, but we pretty much only ever have milk chocolate in the house so I have to make do D': A stable foodstuff and is fantastic when feeling all miserable.

IV. Brain Melting Pairings - Why thank you, I try. I'm guessing this is to do with my lasted few ventures *cough* Hojo/Hollander, Genesis/Hollander and Kunsel/Everyone *cough* I do it for the kicks, and to get a reaction. And booooy do they get a reaction every time. It won't be stopping some time soon, I promise you.

V. Neil Oliver - He's just fucking sexy, look at him!! My love of him came from my father ALWAYS watching Coast on the TV, whether it be brand new or reruns or a damn omnibus of it on UK TV. He's just so amazingly talented! And knowledgeful. And he totally presented that show on Egypt I complained about earlier this year. You might have guess I was being sarcastic at the start of this. I can't stand him. He's annoying and just generally stupid. "Look at me I wurve lighthouses!" ¬_¬ Can he just bugger off back to Scotland plz?

Random Giggles.

2009-06-29T13:13:24Z

For the last week Georgie and I have been quoting this to each other... a bit weird in the middle of a phone conversation but nonetheless, it seems to be a good example of silly English humour.
Found by my brother on b3ta.

There are more. I find #2 particularly amusing... whilst Ice might like the #4 XD

Samurainess VI

2009-06-14T21:20:40Z

Title: Renaissance
Rating: M
Pairing: Sephiroth/Genesis
Canon: The samurai AU Universe. Again.
Warnings: Smut and a surprise coming from me 8D
Synopsis: It was time for a new beginning.
AU: My god, this has to be the last one. PLEEEEASE?! Georgie hates my STYLISTIC use of Semi colons. *glares*

In the two months Genesis had been gone the capital had not changed. As was to be expected. The painted women still reigned the district they were confined to and haunted the hearts of the men who walked freely. Truly, it was the women in his world that held all the power. They controlled the money that was deemed below the male class of samurai and were able to seduce and coerce a willing, ignorant man into anything.

That was a part Genesis enjoyed. Sephiroth seemed to have no trouble with his redhead toying with another, as long as he stayed his. Of course, such a position was quick to be reaffirmed with sharp teeth and nails, or the blade of a wakizashi placed teasingly close to his neck with a wicked smile.

Loosening the muscles of his neck with a fluid motion of rolling his head on his shoulders, Genesis let himself be reabsorbed by the city after so long in the countryside. Instead of the mountain breeze and smell of lush foliage his senses were besieged by smoke, spice and colour and the perfumes of the women around him, bowing humbly as he walked down the straight roads to the shogunate palace.

The roofs that overhung the nure'en of every shop and house now lacked the bright red and gold paper lanterns that had been decorating them over the matsuri of the New Year. Instead, the colour came from delicate pink blossoms of sakura wavering in the cool breeze. In gusts of wind the petals floated to the clear ground like snow.

Genesis had missed the capital, regardless of his captivity within it. Two months of freedom at home in the province of his birthplace with Angeal, able to go wherever he pleased whenever he pleased - so long as it was within reason. He had had a jump in his step that morning, thoroughly refreshed with who he was, always had been and always would be. The familiar touch of Angeal's hands – that treated him as a friend, and equal and a samurai – had brought everything back to him. Whilst the soft, tender handling Genesis endured had rekindled the fire that burned deep inside him, the one that no one but Sephiroth could quell.

When Genesis had entered the palace and requested an audience with the shogun himself – as the façade of lord and retainer required – only to be turned down, that eagerness deserted him. Instead, he had been ordered to his quarters to rest until the following morning when a full report of the journey and the stay and what had been discussed and discovered in that time would have to be given.

Helpless to press otherwise, the redhead had backed down and wandered up to his rooms. A bath first, he decided as he climbed the stairs, to wash away the journey and the blood of insolent peasants who failed to show the correct amount of respect when encountered.

In his time locked up in the porcelain shell of the fairer sex, he had forgotten neither how the world worked for the serving warrior class nor how to use his sword with devastating effect. It had surprised the samurai he travelled with to see this, as well as the speed and ruthlessness that he had been renowned – and feared – for in his days as a General. Yes, a bath first and then—

Sliding the shoji of his room aside, blue eyes met with nothing – not his clothes, belongings or even Sephiroth's gifts - but a small girl, no older than 15, staring timidly at him from her knees. She bowed lowly. Genesis frowned. He stepped inside, feet heavy upon the tatami. Everything was gone. Everything.

Immediately, a flare went up in Genesis' mind, screaming that what he had been dreading ever since he could remember had happened. In his absence, Sephiroth had taken another lover – a female – and abandoned him and his arrogance. He turned back, eyes as hard as the stone walls that made up the palace.

So this was the girl? The one so obviously more deserving of Sephiroth than himself? What did she have, with her slim, diminutive figure and delicate, pitiful hands, that he didn't? Humility, passiveness and subordinance were a few things he could note. They were a few things he had always assumed that Sephiroth had despised in a lover. Maybe he had failed in the judging of his Lord's character.

Genesis’ mind sought to question the girl; interrogate her; break her mentally and then see how Sephiroth liked that. Instead, his temper smouldered dangerously behind his blue eyes. He watched as the girl slowly rose from her bow and glanced at him, smiling. Black eyes were as wide as a doe, trying to work that feminine magic that would never work on him. Not when he'd learnt to master it himself.

She was spiting him. His jaw tightened and he jumped at the girl, right hand drawing out his katana. Her response was fearful, quick but clear.

"Lord Sephiroth sent me to show you to your new rooms."

Immediately, Genesis desisted and stood motionless above the cowering girl. The sword slid comfortably back into its sheath with a sound of relief. Taking a pace back, he waited for the girl to rise to her feet and shuffle out of the door noiselessly. To the trained eye, there was no grace to her steps; her arms slung limply, head not held high enough. They were probably mistakes that came with her age – not being properly trained yet – and it comforted Genesis to see it. Sephiroth insisted upon perfection. Everything. He could never have put up with a creature like this.

He was left alone in his new rooms, ones that were twice the size of his old ones and adjoining to Sephiroth's own. Everything within, the tatami and futon, were brand new and spotless and soft under his tired feet. Folded up on the floor in the centre of the room was a new uniform, of a higher quality silk, lighter and softer for the coming summer in which the humidity would be unbearable. Atop it rested his two prized swords, gifts from his father when he first became a samurai, which he had not seen since long before Sephiroth became shogun. Their red lacquer had been meticulously polished until it shone a welcome in the light from small windows.

Slowly, Genesis stepped closer. The shoji slid shut with a whisper behind him. He knelt but did not take what was rightfully his. Instead, he stared at them in bewilderment. Why was Sephiroth giving them back to him? Why now?

Reaching out attentively, he handled the blades like one would a venomous serpent. Beneath them was a small note, resting atop the black silk of the new uniform, with a single character written on it. It brought a curve to Genesis' lips and he rose to his feet to change his clothes. Finally, he slid his precious swords into his sash and left the ones he had been using on a low table beside a wall that was piled high with his books.

"Cha?"

When in bloom, the garden could boast to be the most beautiful in the empire. Where the acers lacked in their foliage, still recovering from the takings of autumn, the sakura supplied. A mixture of species, from the vivid pink petals and red leaves on the trees brought down from the mountains to the smaller, lowland varieties that seemed to give more than they possessed on their branches.

Lost amongst a thicket of lush rhododendrons of green and violet, dotted with vibrant cerise, was where Genesis took himself. The black tiles of the roof of the chashitsu were evident against the spring blossoms. With one hand proudly resting on the hilt of the longer of his two swords, Genesis approached. It was hard to contain his smirk to a simple quirk at the corner of his mouth. If he knew Sephiroth like he believed he did, things would work out splendidly. Each step was light; there was no effort to disguise his zeal.

Sephiroth was seated on the nure'en, chin held high and eyes closed. He was deep in the thought of meditation. The longer strands of his decadent silver hair were pulled back, as always, and fastened at the nape of his neck with a strip of silk. A loose black robe covered all of his body, concealing the true shape of every curve and dip of muscle. Genesis knew each of them perfectly. He was the only one to know how much Sephiroth had changed from when he was simply an heir to the title of daimyo.

Green eyes opened slowly. Black pupils dilated to let in the sudden white light and a smile cracked across serene, slim features. His gaze raked languidly over Genesis, taking in the smooth lines of the kimono over his chest, to the seven organised pleats of the hakama and glimpses of white tabi as the wind blew the flimsy material around effortlessly.

Genesis bowed formally, lowly, and had Sephiroth return the gesture, only not as deeply. Next, he went to a small basin of clean water, taken from the stream that ran through the garden amongst a field of snowy chrysanthemums, and took the long-handled wooden ladle and rinsed first his hands and mouth then the soles of his zori. Such an act was not superficial – not just cleaning his skin – but deeply symbolic. Cleansing the mind, body and soul to be ready for the peace and tranquillity that waited within the chashitsu.

Sephiroth watched observantly; tracing droplets of water that tickled down pale wrists and into the shadows of Genesis' new kimono. The silk glistened with iridescence in the afternoon sun, making Genesis shine. The pink blossoms reflected in crimson hair; it was hard to avert his gaze even if he wanted to.

When the ritual cleansing was complete a hand was offered out to Genesis but lost in the long sleeves of the shogun's gown. Without a second thought, he stepped upon the veranda, leaving his zori on the river of white gravel that he had walked along to get to this secluded, ornate construction.

Instead of inviting the redhead to sit, Sephiroth stood and turned, grasping a hold of Genesis' wrist and drawing him into the main room of the chashitsu, then pulling the shoji back across the threshold. The windows of the side walls were open an inch or two at most to let fresh air circulate, but enough to dissuade any inquisitive eyes. Not that there were many now. After the first season, the staff of the household knew better than to interrupt the shogun, no matter where he was, when there was a redhead with him – male or female.

However, it had inevitably circulated after one incident that the two were quite actually one and the same. Once this was public news, grabbing hands, eager to possess, had begun to lunge for Genesis again, especially when painted and adorned, which had led to Sephiroth sending him back to their home province until things had died down. Or for those grabbing hands to depart the world of the living until they were reborn again in another place, far away.

Placed in the very middle of the room was a dark wood table, low to the floor and fully equipped for the making of tea. Sephiroth took up his position on the opposite side of this table to Genesis. They sank to their knees and sat cross-legged, staring at each other for a moment.

Perhaps it was strange, for lovers to meet again after so long apart and not say a word of greeting. But all Sephiroth needed radiated from the deep azure of Genesis' eyes. Genesis, however, just flourished in the attention he received. He was the only one who obtained it, after all. He was the only one that ever would.

Sharply, Sephiroth inhaled and raised his hands to the table. The small kettle of water upon the brazier was beginning to boil. "I know marriage was the exact word you used." His voice was deep, unaffected; indifferent. "Obviously such a thing can never occur now, with even the peasants of this town knowing of you." This was uttered disdainfully. The emotion echoed in deceptively stolid eyes. "With this, we can bind ourselves together. Simple, private and perpetual. Nothing can be done to undo what shall happen here. Do you consent?"

"Of course," Genesis blurted without second thought. His grip tightened with anticipation at Sephiroth's smile, wide and ravenous. Blue eyes watched appreciatively as the shogun began to busy himself with making the tea.

First the powder was measured out precisely with a carved stick of bamboo that Sephiroth's long fingers wound tightly around. His right hand held the deep sleeves of his gown out of the way. Next, a little water was added to create a sage-green paste. Then more water and it was whisked until smooth with another tool crafted from bamboo.

The process was as practical as it was symbolic: every movement and motion had significant meaning and took an immeasurable amount of skill to perfect. As he watched, Genesis could see just why Sephiroth always watched with ravenous interest as he performed the acts commonly associated with the decorated, expensive hostess of the district teahouses. Only a master could achieve the smooth, delicious tea that the empire thrived on.

In time, a small cup without a handle was offered to Genesis. A wide beam upon his face, he bowed again and accepted it. His first few sips were anxious, testing the temperature of the liquid and still busy watching Sephiroth make his own cup. Though the same as every other cup he had drunk since childhood, this tasted better; calmed his mind more; helped him reach that perfect level of elation.

Raising his eyes, Sephiroth seemed to detect this and smiled one of the rare smiles that only a few could claim to have seen in their lives. He watched as Genesis' eyes flickered like the flame of a candle down to the half-empty cup and up to his face. Deep in thought, weighing up the positive and negative consequences of whatever he was planning. And trying to estimate what the response would be. Another quirk of the full lips he longed to kiss; Genesis' arm extended towards him.

Genesis knew that when it came to sake, sharing a cup was a sign of friendship, trust and affection. He noticed that his hand was shaking from a nervousness that was unnecessary. Sephiroth would not refuse him, not when he had initiated the ceremony, hosted it and decided to fulfil Genesis' request of binding.

When with his childhood friend, the redhead had spoken of his wishes; his frustration and longing. For so long he had had to put his own aspirations behind himself to accommodate that which Sephiroth impressed upon him, just so he would not lose the object he was so dangerously fixated on. But now, with the quarters of a trusted retainer next to the shogun and his two priceless swords, it seemed Sephiroth had realised that Genesis also had his own desires that smouldered deep within him and had for years gone unseen.

The shogun rose to his feet, long hair streaming behind him elegantly, ethereal. Smirking. He paced over to where Genesis sat and lowered himself to his knees behind the redhead's back. They were close, close enough for each of the man's breaths to waver Genesis' crimson hair and cause it to tickle irritably at the back of his neck. Due to his position, the collar of Genesis' kimono distorted to reveal more of his neck; the ridges of his spine cast delicate shadows across the flawless skin. Sephiroth stared, lips curving further as he bridged the gap and pressed a gentle kiss to that exposed flesh.

Genesis’ response, either intentional or instinctive, was physical. He sighed, resting his head back on Sephiroth's shoulder, smiling. Amused, Sephiroth reached forwards to Genesis' hand, brought the offered cup up to his lips and drank with a thirst that far surpassed anything that tea or sake could ever sate. Sometimes he wondered if Genesis was enough to quench it, as after every encounter, even with just a brush of hands as they passed in a corridor, the craving possessed him again.

The cup was finished with another taking from Genesis' lips and lowered back to the low table to rest discarded with all the dirtied utensils. His eyes were closed and he was grinning, wet lips glistening in the light that filtered through the shoji. He lay back, moving to every inhalation of the shogun, loving the silent intimacy that they shared. Moments, little moments, like feeling Sephiroth's heartbeat against his shoulder blade; noticing how it quickened when he sounded his approval to the ministrations lavishing his neck made all the trials and tribulations he faced meaningful.

"I want this to be like it was in the beginning." Sephiroth's hands ghosted across his chest, pressing him back and closer until the force had Genesis gasping. His voice was a quiet murmur, like it was on their first night as lovers, as he loomed over Genesis commenting on his… virtues. "You're a samurai. My general. My retainer."

To prove this point, Sephiroth's hand ran the length of the hilt of Genesis' katana. Both their eyes were drawn to the motions; in the shadows there was only the contrast of pallid skin and the dark material of Sephiroth's sleeves and the altering red and black pattern of the sword. A thumb rubbed tight circles over the very tip, sending a shiver straight down Genesis’ spine. He pressed his hips forwards, bringing the sword further into Sephiroth's grasp.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Genesis inquired, smirking; enjoying the one-handed show that was working wonders for his subconscious. The heat between his legs was growing uncomfortable and as much as he tried, Sephiroth would not relieve him.

Sephiroth's lips tightened and he lowered his head back down to the other's ear, where red hair hung in a perfectly ordered array of disorder. "I've broken you in. You're completely mine. Undeniably mine," he whispered.

"So dressing me and treating me and making me act like a woman was simply to tame me? To acclimatise myself to submitting to you without a second thought?" Genesis asked, curious and slightly irritated. He had served Sephiroth's father, and indeed Sephiroth himself, loyally all his life. But still the silver haired man deemed him unruly; in need of domestication before anything else other than a weapon was to be made of him.

"I could never expect you to understand my motives."

Genesis blinked slowly, eyelids drifting closed as Sephiroth's cool hand finally turned attention onto him. It clasped around his member, concealed behind the silk hakama, and squeezed rhythmically until the material became damp with his fluids. He lay heavily back in Sephiroth's embrace, bucking his hips up into the warmth of that palm.

Smirking, Sephiroth grasped harder and shuffled back, bringing the mewling redhead with him. His other hand immediately went to stripping Genesis out of his uniform. The daisho was removed first, placed tenderly to the side in a slim shaft of golden light from the setting sun the other side of the flimsy walls.

Then the plain sash was shed, the motion drawn out as Sephiroth moved around to the left to lie Genesis back on the tatami. His expression was washed of his characteristic haughtiness, leaving nothing but a sheen of elation to each of the shogun's touches.

Clever hands continued their work, sliding hakama effortlessly off raised, slim hips. Genesis bit his lip as the soft silk brushed over him, and then he was surrounded by cool air that relieved little of his affliction. His kimono was smoothed open across his chest and left to hang around his shoulders, incapacitating him somewhat. But Sephiroth thrived on this factor; a forced submission.

The lack of thick, cushioning futons underneath him, offering a comfort much greater than that of the tatami, reminded Genesis of the rough intercourse he welcomed during stifling nights on the battlefield. When light from campfires threw their shadows against the woven tent walls for any on looking eye to see, but they were always too absorbed in each other's obsessions to care.

Genesis looked up through hazy vision, seeing Sephiroth a decade younger, when the stress of leadership he succeeded in hiding in the company of others was non-existent across his features. Young, fresh and entrancing, Genesis had let him sink almost too deep into his being.

Reaching up, Genesis cupped a hand over Sephiroth's slim jaw line and led him down for a thorough kiss. As he hadn't for so long, the redhead indulged himself and made Sephiroth fight for the right to pillage his mouth with his vigour and eagerness. His hands were pinned either side of his head at the wrists. Fingers curled in delight and Genesis smirked, succumbing to a defeat he didn't really mind. For once.

And then Sephiroth was pulling away, taking Genesis' bottom lip with him until the redhead whined with the discomfort. He freed his left hand but the right remained on a slim, golden wrist. Blue eyes stared up, wide but smirking, as if two kami had possessed him. One innocent, vulnerable and tender; the other sordid, dark and lusting. And slowly, after losing his robes, Sephiroth tightened his grip and pushing his hips into Genesis', eyes darkened and the latter kami was victorious.

Genesis ground his hips upwards, into Sephiroth's cupped palm as it fell into place around his member. The shogun rewarded him with a few firm pumps before withdrawing completely, reaching out under the low table a few feet away and pulling out a lacquered pot, small, round and black.

As it was obviously deemed much more important than his own pleasure, Genesis tilted his head to see, and beamed widely. "My Lord, I seem to be unable to recall any oil in the beginning."

"You bled that night. To do so tonight will only ruin the tatami," Sephiroth replied brusquely as he twisted the lid to pull it off. He crawled back over Genesis, covering his body like the night's sky does the sleeping Earth. "Unless you wish to give more of yourself to me." He leant over Genesis, breathing calmly into his ear.

The redhead's lips tightened, nothing more than a bitter sneer, exposing a glimpse of a white canine. "Is there anything left to give?"

"There's always something remaining." Sephiroth thrust his hips up against those under him. The friction of such an action ran straight from Genesis’ cock to his brain and had him momentarily breathless. But that audacious expression remained.

"Not tonight, my love." His hands rose to attentively stroke the shorter locks of Sephiroth's hair out of his face; then running down the stark curves of his shoulders to be lost in the moonlight silk completely. "For this is a time for love, devotion and dedication."

There was a slight uplifting of the corners of Sephiroth's mouth, barely noticeable before it vanished without a trace. Its very transitory existence could be questioned with the speed. Without a further word, Genesis took the opened pot from his lover's hand and dipped two fingers in. They came out generously covered in sweet smelling oil, dark and iridescent in the feeble; weakening sunlight. Immediately he took Sephiroth’s cock into his hand. The reaction was divine.

The muscles of his strong stomach tensed, defining every valley and ridge of strength in the soft shadows. It was like a recoil – as if the touch was unexpected or painful – but the shogun's throaty purrs and steady, sinuous sliding of the hard heat of his manhood in Genesis' elegant hand testified otherwise. In the boneless state of euphoria, having not felt as such in the months Genesis had been away, Sephiroth was easy to be pushed onto his back. Silver hair splayed out on the sage-green tatami beneath them, glistening ethereally in the light.

Searching blindly, Sephiroth found the discarded pot, lubricating his fingers quickly, sparsely - enough for comfort but not overly so. Those fingers travelled immediately behind the bend of Genesis' hips and over the firm curves of his buttocks and trailed down to his only target. In this action, it was Genesis' turn to vocalise his approval, demonstrating such through his entrancing mastery of his own lithe body.

Sephiroth had often wondered just how and when Genesis had learnt all about himself, what he could and could not do and how to exaggerate or conceal either one. Did he spend the hours that he was not training as a child, exploring himself in the privacy of four opaque walls? His own fingers searching; gaining a reaction; learning the mechanics of his own instincts… Sephiroth lowered his head to Genesis’ lips and consumed his own fantasy through them. The redhead was so willing, without boundaries, to do anything, his estimation was not a likely delusion.

And Genesis was the first to break for air, moaning as Sephiroth’s fingers pressed inside him. He waited for a moment before shifting his hips to find his prostate. The shogun continued to lie still; eyes regarded everything from azure shielded behind cinnamon lashes, the smooth, hairless chest to the darker hairs that brushed against the back of his cock.

"I seem to remember you being far from passive," Genesis murmured against Sephiroth's lips. Every word was punctuated with a deep breath and wavering exhalation. On the contrary to his utterance, his hips kept to the pace.

Smirking, Sephiroth drove his wrist upwards, earning a strident moan from parted, plump lips. Letting his desire devour him, he pushed Genesis onto his back once again. He continued preparation until Genesis couldn't take anymore; he was reduced to a mewling, writhing creature on the brink of release but frustratingly denied. So Sephiroth stopped hastily. After all, everything he had ever done was for Genesis' benefit, whether the man noticed so or not through his glazed eyes of arrogance and decadence, and malice.

The moon spun its delicate silver threads around the garden. Lush green leaves reflected the stars and threw their shadows against the mirror surface of the pool that the stream led to before running on to the city's river and then out to the great sea. The world outside of paradise was vast; indomitable no matter how much men deluded themselves into believing otherwise.

As a single, delicate white petal drifted in the gentle breeze to the water, echoing its tranquil beauty around, distorting shapes and the reflection of the moon fleetingly. The aesthetics of reality became transcendental.

… If only there were eyes to observe. The heavens were deeper, darker and much harder to reach when seen in Genesis' eyes. He smiled temptation; a promise of fulfilment, already fulfilled. Sephiroth would kiss him, accept his offer, when he had caught his breath and collected his thoughts from the admiration of the sharp-featured elegance of Genesis as he stared up at the sky. Skin pale, cheeks flushed and lips moist and red, he was a pleasant contrast to the dark material that clothed Sephiroth's lap. Out on the nure'en, the wind was welcome, calming pleasure-scorched flesh.

Sighing, the shogun threaded his fingers through tousled red hair and flexed gently, silently gaining the man's attention. "I only have one request of you, Genesis," Sephiroth started. His eyes scanned pin-pricked azure, fearing the insecurity that possessed him. "That you love me."

Genesis' lips curved upwards warmly; his eyes softened and he pushed himself up to wrap his arms tightly around Sephiroth's neck. "I do, my love. I do."