|joudama (stopthatgirl7) wrote in areyougame,|
@ 2008-07-17 22:19:00
|Current music:||Sami Yusuf - Supplication|
|Entry tags:||*final fantasy vii: cc, author: stopthatgirl7|
Fixation, Final Fantasy VII (Sephiroth/Genesis)
Fandom: Final Fantasy 7 (Crisis Core)
Rating: worksafe, PG
Word count: 1,715
Summary: All he wants to be is enough.
Prompt: Sephiroth/Genesis: possession – I am starting to feel very possessive about it.
A/N:Holy hell, I got it done on time. *cheers* However, I am sleep-deprived. Maybe that should be a warning. ^^;;
Ahem. Um, forgive the rather disjointed nature of this; it seems that this is kinda paired with another fic I wrote a few weeks ago, "Oedipus Tyrannus" (which is, um, better, I admit in advance). That was the Seph story; this one is Genesis. So...there's a lot less Sephiroth in it than I planned. ^^;;
This is kinda spoiler for both Crisis Core and Dirge of Cerberus--as spoiler as they can be, considering I haven't played DoC (I'm not a big fan of FPS or "my backstory is pastede on yay") nor have I finished CC (I admit it, I'm dragging my feet. See, while I might not like Gacktesis very much, I rather do like Zack and I'm not looking forward to seeing the end.) *cough* So, yeah.
As always, the translations of the game dialogue are mine and not the official English version, so if they don't match, there's a reason for it. ^^;;
In psychology, "fixation" refers to a state when someone gets an obsessive attachment to a person, animal, or thing. If this is love or not--or rather, if it's nothing more than an extreme expression of love--is debatable.
fix-a-tion [fik-sey-shuh n]
1. The act of fixing or the state of being fixed.
They were gone.
Angeal, long since was dead; killed by his own protégé, rather than live with the loss of his pride.
Sephiroth, gone but refusing to be forgotten, and what he had become was something so far from the hero of the war with Wutai that there was no resemblance.
They were gone, and he was the only one still left. And he felt the weight of their deaths their loss and his own role in it. He had brought about the destruction of both, and now he was alone.
And the cavern was flooded with the rush of the Lifestream and the gift of the goddess was finally something he understood, and so here he would wait, sealed within until he was needed to protect the planet.
He would wait.
He would wait.
He would wait.
2. [Chemistry] Reduction from a volatile or fluid to a stable or solid form.
He felt himself being moved, on some level, but wasn't aware enough of anything other than that, not until he felt the sunlight on his face, a chair against his back.
Not until he felt the apple in the crook of his arm.
"Everyone, let's eat!"
He didn't open his eyes; that was too much effort, but he knew that Zack's next words were directed at him. "I'm sorry it's not the real thing."
It was only when he heard the sound of Zack actually eating that he could find the strength to speak. "It good?"
"Is this the gift of the goddess?"
"This apple?" Zack asked, as always what was there in front of him flying over his head, and he knew why Angeal had given his will to this half-grown boy.
He managed to shake his head, no.
"Angeal..." he opened his eyes, just for a while, to look over at Angeal--whether it was truly Angeal or not, he didn't care, because for that moment, for that moment, it was enough, it was Angeal, and, "....my dream's come true..." he whispered, and then, for a moment, he almost smiled.
3. [Photography] The process of rendering an image permanent by removal of light-sensitive silver halides.
And instead of darkness, there was light.
He knew what this was, what it had to be--there was only one thing like this, only one force that flowed like a river of light, and that everyone had to one day join--the Lifestream.
So this is death, he thought, and stumbled over towards the statue of the goddess. And as he walked, as he made his way, the statue changed.
And he walked to her, unable to look away, reaching out to her in supplication and in hope, that she would reach out to him, that with death would come Her gift, that he would finally know.
Her smile was soft, and gentle, but instead of bringing him to her, there was a shake of her head and the Lifestream rushed over, between them, and once again he wasn't good enough, wasn't enough, and all he could think in despair was No, no, this isn't how it's supposed to be; why does everything go so wro--
And then he was pushed back in that rush of the Lifestream; out of the light, out of this space, back into that cave and himself, and suddenly everything was so clear.
4. [Psychoanalysis] A partial arrest of emotional and instinctual development at an early point in life, due to a severe traumatic experience or an overwhelming gratification.
"Don't die," Genesis whispered faintly as he sat by Angeal's side, not knowing if Angeal could hear him, and not caring. Angeal had never looked like this, never been so sick, like he was growing old and dying before Genesis' eyes. The doctors had come and they hadn't done anything but talk in low voices to Angeal's mother and say things they thought someone Genesis' age wouldn't understand. And he didn't understand all of it, but he understood enough.
"Please, don't die," he said, his voice hitching. Angeal was the only friend he had, the only one who listened and didn't laugh, the only one who cared, and Angeal was dying. "You can't die," he said, and rather than start crying, he opened his book and began to read. When he read, Angeal would sometimes wake up and if he woke up he smiled, and so Genesis was going to sit here and read aloud to him until Angeal woke up.
"The gift of the goddess is what the three men seek
But their fates are scattered by war
One becomes a hero, one wanders the land
And the last is taken prisoner
But the three are still bound by a solemn oath
To seek the answer together, once again..."
5. A preoccupation with one subject, issue, etc.; obsession.
"Step back, Angeal," Genesis said, smiling only because otherwise, it would be a snarl. As it was, it was a near thing, and he didn't care one way or the other which was on his face. "I want to face him myself."
"Genesis," Angeal said, and he knew that tone of voice but ignored it. Angeal wouldn't understand, he could never understand something like this. Angeal was too good to understand all of the undercurrents Genesis had running through him, twisted and confused--Genesis barely understood himself, so he knew Angeal, simple and straightforward Angeal, could never understand any of it. He would have no reason to anyway--he was the one Sephiroth saw, after all, the one Sephiroth took seriously, the one Sephiroth himself challenged to put away the toy sword and fight him--that, even though Genesis had been the one to start it. It was Angeal Sephiroth went for first, Angeal whose blows he blocked first before the afterthought of Genesis, and it burned.
He would make Sephiroth take him seriously; the gloves were off. If Sephiroth wanted a real fight, it was Genesis who would give it to him. "I'm going to become a hero as well," he said, magic infusing the sword and the fire materia all but singing as he reached for it.
"Oh, really? Fine, then," Sephiroth said, and the way he said it, so coldly dismissive, made him burn more.
"That attitude of yours can't last forever," Genesis said, hand tightening on his sword, knowing one day, one day, Sephiroth would slip and Genesis would be there, and then Sephiroth would have to see him--not simply see him as a equal, but just see him.
And so they fought, with magic and sword, Genesis raging and Sephiroth remaining as always, that ineffably cold smile on his face that made Genesis angrier, more enraged, wanting more to hurt the other man and wipe that smile away forever.
Instead there was a rush, Sephiroth pushing him back, and he attacked more, harder, raging more against the way he was giving way than against Sephiroth, and no, he wouldn't lose, he would---
"Cut it out already!" Angeal yelled, jumping in between them. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Do you WANT to completely destroy the place?"
"All I want is to be a hero!" he yelled, the flames surrounding Angeal and pushing him away, and he thought dimly that he should care, but that was gone, all that there was was Sephiroth and--
And now, finally, now that he had shoved Angeal out of the way, Sephiroth was serious. The change was palpable, and he thought for one moment that he had won as Sephiroth sank.
And then he saw that smile.
And Sephiroth attacked; he was pushed back, knocked away, even as he threw everything he had into this battle, determined that he would win this, and there was nothing, nothing, nothing that existed in the world beyond himself and Sephiroth, and--
"That's enough!" Angeal yelled.
"Angeal?" Sephiroth said, and the way Sephiroth's face and voice changed, the way Angeal registered in a way Genesis never had, the way for once some of the cold contempt seemed to melt away--
"You're in my way!" Genesis yelled, wanting nothing more than to strike at Sephiroth, to make Sephiroth see him, react to him, and in his mind he triggered his materia, determined now that he was so close to defeat Sephiroth now that Sephiroth's attention was elsewhere and---
And it hurt. Angeal's sword--not even his real sword, the Buster, that one saved to block Sephiroth--had broken, with enough force to go spinning back, slicing deeply into Genesis' arm as it went, through the shoulderguards and into the flesh, the force knocking him back, onto his knees, and the VR vanished as he dropped his sword, clutching at his shoulder in pain.
...He had dropped his sword. He had fallen to his knees and dropped his sword, in front of both of them, in front of Angeal and Sephiroth.
"It's just a scratch. It'll heal fast enough if I leave it alone," he said, reaching for his sword and not looking at either of them.
He clutched his shoulder tightly, and then stood up straight, holding fast to his sword and not letting how much it hurt, how much any of it hurt, show. He walked off, his mind blank, and quoting Loveless because he had nothing else to cling to.
Even now, Sephiroth wouldn't look at him; instead turning away as Genesis passed.
This...this wasn't the way it was supposed to have been, some part of him thought bitterly. This wasn't what he wanted; this wasn't how it was supposed to have gone.
It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault things had gone like this, he thought, Sephiroth's coldly sneering face and his turning away, his "Put away that toy sword" and his "Angeal--," all fresh in Genesis' mind, something inside him flamed with rage.
This wasn't his fault, but, by the goddess, if this is how things were going to go, then he would not back down. He would take both their places--Angeal's place in Sephiroth's eyes and Sephiroth's place in the world, and then they would both see him.