Rule 34: Sephiroth/Wedge
Jul. 18th, 2021 08:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lithic_runeSummary: Look, don't challenge me when I say something exists. I'll make it exist.
Rating: PG
...yes, I know Rule 34 refers to porn, but this is the best you're gonna get with me.
The day started off so ordinarily. Well, ordinary by Wedge's standards, anyway. Really, it's not like the average person has to juggle holding down a job, feeding and keeping track of half a dozen alley cats (give or take a handful that may or may not be claimed by owners, shhh, they all belong to Wedge because he belongs to all of them), working with a group of friends-slash-acquaintances that miiiight actually be terrorists according to the law, except what they're fighting for is just so right and important, and- oh, yeah. And the Iron Claws.
Wedge would like to take back any statements about the Iron Claws being ordinary.
"Shit." Through the radio in Wedge's hand, Biggs breathes out the curse like a prayer, and honestly, Wedge can't blame him in the slightest. His own eyes are fixed on the silver flashing through the air, dancing between the monsters like human lightning. "Wedge, please tell me you're not still down there."
"...sorry, Biggs." Because Wedge can't lie. He's in the alley and he can't leave. Not without risking attracting an Iron Claw's eyes, and there's no way he can do that when Mittens and Whiskers are both here.
Biggs swears again, then, "Okay, just- just stay where you are, Wedge. That's Sephiroth they sent to deal with those things. He's a SOLDIER First Class. I'm sure he'll clear them out no problem."
He didn't say anything about Wedge's chances if the monsters cast Flare. Swallowing hard, Wedge decides not to bring it up either. No need to scare the cats like that.
In the street the alley he's in connects to, three of the hulking, human spider-like monsters lunge at the lone fighter between them. Sephiroth twists, then leaps into the air like that had been his plan all along. All three miss.
But Sephiroth doesn't.
When he lands, his katana is covered in blood, and one of the Iron Claws falls to the ground in two pieces.
"Wow..." For all that SOLDIERs are terrifying, as much for what they can do as for who they do it for, Wedge would be lying if he didn't admit that that was amazing. Even more so when in the time it took him to whisper that one word, another Iron Claw's been stabbed through whatever passes for its heart. "Whiskers, look at him go..."
The cat in Wedge's arms mews, clearly anxious, but still docile, still trusting. Wedge absentmindedly rubs the tabby's head behind the ears - not because he needs to soothe his own nerves, of course, but because Whiskers needs the reassurance. The last thing anyone needs is for one of the cats to spook and dart into that mess.
Speaking of which...
Wedge shifts his hold on Whiskers to free up an arm, then reaches to his other side for Mittens.
Only to grope through empty air. Wedge startles, finally tearing his gaze away from the fight. "Mittens? Mittens?!"
But the alley is empty, and no other cat meows. Alarmed, Wedge spins around, a sixth sense screaming at him to check the worst place the missing cat could be. Except it's not his senses screaming, it's the whine of magic, and that's worse, because if an Iron Claw's had enough time to cast magic, then-!
The whine cuts off before Wedge can even finish turning, and instead of a disaster, there's four corpses in the street. Four corpses, and Sephiroth, and-
...and a cat climbing the man's silver hair. Wedge freezes, eyes wider than they'd been even for the fight. SOLDIER First Class Sephiroth, the man who almost single-handedly ended the war in Wutai, who'd only moments ago cut through deadly monsters as easily as a cat plays with mice, and now Wedge's cat is clawing his way up like the SOLDIER is nothing but a giant cat tree, and if the Iron Claws were scary, the one who killed them is even worse, and-!
And Sephiroth's just standing there, looking bemused. The bloody katana in his hand hangs loose and ready, but doesn't flash to end another life. Which to be fair would be a little awkward, given how long that blade is and how close Mittens is to making it up to perch on Sephiroth's pauldron, but man, if anyone could do it, Wedge feels like Sephiroth totally could. But he's not. He's just looking at Mittens.
The little ball of black fluff mews.
The corner of Sephiroth's mouth quirks up. Then with his free hand he plucks Mittens off, turns to Wedge like he'd always known about his audience, and holds the kitten out.
"Yours, I believe?"
Their eyes meet.
Oh.
"Wedge. Hey, Wedge, you there?"
Wedge forgets even to respond. His eyes have locked with a pair of cat-slit green and they're beautiful.
Oh no. I think I'm in love.
Rating: PG
...yes, I know Rule 34 refers to porn, but this is the best you're gonna get with me.
The day started off so ordinarily. Well, ordinary by Wedge's standards, anyway. Really, it's not like the average person has to juggle holding down a job, feeding and keeping track of half a dozen alley cats (give or take a handful that may or may not be claimed by owners, shhh, they all belong to Wedge because he belongs to all of them), working with a group of friends-slash-acquaintances that miiiight actually be terrorists according to the law, except what they're fighting for is just so right and important, and- oh, yeah. And the Iron Claws.
Wedge would like to take back any statements about the Iron Claws being ordinary.
"Shit." Through the radio in Wedge's hand, Biggs breathes out the curse like a prayer, and honestly, Wedge can't blame him in the slightest. His own eyes are fixed on the silver flashing through the air, dancing between the monsters like human lightning. "Wedge, please tell me you're not still down there."
"...sorry, Biggs." Because Wedge can't lie. He's in the alley and he can't leave. Not without risking attracting an Iron Claw's eyes, and there's no way he can do that when Mittens and Whiskers are both here.
Biggs swears again, then, "Okay, just- just stay where you are, Wedge. That's Sephiroth they sent to deal with those things. He's a SOLDIER First Class. I'm sure he'll clear them out no problem."
He didn't say anything about Wedge's chances if the monsters cast Flare. Swallowing hard, Wedge decides not to bring it up either. No need to scare the cats like that.
In the street the alley he's in connects to, three of the hulking, human spider-like monsters lunge at the lone fighter between them. Sephiroth twists, then leaps into the air like that had been his plan all along. All three miss.
But Sephiroth doesn't.
When he lands, his katana is covered in blood, and one of the Iron Claws falls to the ground in two pieces.
"Wow..." For all that SOLDIERs are terrifying, as much for what they can do as for who they do it for, Wedge would be lying if he didn't admit that that was amazing. Even more so when in the time it took him to whisper that one word, another Iron Claw's been stabbed through whatever passes for its heart. "Whiskers, look at him go..."
The cat in Wedge's arms mews, clearly anxious, but still docile, still trusting. Wedge absentmindedly rubs the tabby's head behind the ears - not because he needs to soothe his own nerves, of course, but because Whiskers needs the reassurance. The last thing anyone needs is for one of the cats to spook and dart into that mess.
Speaking of which...
Wedge shifts his hold on Whiskers to free up an arm, then reaches to his other side for Mittens.
Only to grope through empty air. Wedge startles, finally tearing his gaze away from the fight. "Mittens? Mittens?!"
But the alley is empty, and no other cat meows. Alarmed, Wedge spins around, a sixth sense screaming at him to check the worst place the missing cat could be. Except it's not his senses screaming, it's the whine of magic, and that's worse, because if an Iron Claw's had enough time to cast magic, then-!
The whine cuts off before Wedge can even finish turning, and instead of a disaster, there's four corpses in the street. Four corpses, and Sephiroth, and-
...and a cat climbing the man's silver hair. Wedge freezes, eyes wider than they'd been even for the fight. SOLDIER First Class Sephiroth, the man who almost single-handedly ended the war in Wutai, who'd only moments ago cut through deadly monsters as easily as a cat plays with mice, and now Wedge's cat is clawing his way up like the SOLDIER is nothing but a giant cat tree, and if the Iron Claws were scary, the one who killed them is even worse, and-!
And Sephiroth's just standing there, looking bemused. The bloody katana in his hand hangs loose and ready, but doesn't flash to end another life. Which to be fair would be a little awkward, given how long that blade is and how close Mittens is to making it up to perch on Sephiroth's pauldron, but man, if anyone could do it, Wedge feels like Sephiroth totally could. But he's not. He's just looking at Mittens.
The little ball of black fluff mews.
The corner of Sephiroth's mouth quirks up. Then with his free hand he plucks Mittens off, turns to Wedge like he'd always known about his audience, and holds the kitten out.
"Yours, I believe?"
Their eyes meet.
Oh.
"Wedge. Hey, Wedge, you there?"
Wedge forgets even to respond. His eyes have locked with a pair of cat-slit green and they're beautiful.
Oh no. I think I'm in love.
