On The Seraph’s Wings

A curse falls from the Cetra’s lips. The outcome of the current fight was draining and quite infuriating. This fight was won the moment Sephiroth sealed her off from her team. What could he possibly want? She was nothing special. She was a useless tactician, a strategist. How would that benefit him in a fight? She’s not nearly up to parr with his strength, not as her friends would’ve. If she was brutally honest with herself, this battle was unfair, like throwing a mouse at a hungry cat. And yet, Aerith was stubborn. She wouldn’t dare think to call Cloud for help. It’ll damage her pride more than her weakness on the matter. After all, Cloud wasn’t her knight in shining armor, nor was she a princess that needed to be rescued from a Bahamut’s clutches. However, after this, she thinks the mighty summon would be child’s play compared to what she’s enduring. This dragon of a man, which she knew even that was too subtle of a title for him. With an imposing stance, Sephiroth creeps toward her, dragging the long blade of his weapon along the ground, its screech defending to the ear. It’s clear to her from his smirking face that the bastard was in no hurry. He wants to demonstrate the importance of the godly appearance he thinks he orchestrates. Clenching her teeth, Aerith grips her staff with both hands, preparing for the worst he could possibly throw at her. She vows nothing he does will force her to back down. Aerith furrows her brows angrily, concerned at the muffled screams of Tifa’s voice amongst the ruins, Cloud’s following closely behind. Aerith didn’t have the time nor the will to appreciate the dimension Sephiroth had taken them to fight while he took care of her himself. Not that she should give him the satisfaction anyway. Their painful screams become louder, the outlines of their figures becoming visible through the dense fog. Sephiroth follows her line of sight, his cruel lips widening. “Now, now, they won’t bother us.” With a wave of his hand, he warps space, further driving them apart until it was just them. Aerith’s breath is shaking with adrenaline, her heart hammering with a vengeance. She would not accept the fate that is slowly presenting itself to her. Sephiroth chuckles airily. “You can’t change fate, Cetra.” He announced as though he was reading her private thoughts. The shock that itches to slide on her face was honest. And then it morphs into anger. “Fuck off!” Aerith bites, glaring emerald daggers at Sephiroth. “You know, I feel sorry for you. This empty shell of a man who knows neither love, warmth, nor affection. You judge everything and everyone with a narrow-minded view and the moment you find a difference in people you don’t like you get annoyed. It’s why you hurt others, isn’t it? You think because you hurt, so should everyone else?” “You know, I see what you’re doing. You’re resisting the inevitable with meaningless banter that will not amount to anything.” Sephiroth says, not providing her with an answer to her own questions. “I don’t need to stall, I saw my future. I’m like a bone in your throat. Do you resent me because I am an Ancient? Or because I want to protect Cloud?” “You? Protect?” His lips curl into a cruel smile. “You can’t even protect yourself. Just look at you, already so exhausted. Such a feeble human.” “Quit toying with me! It’s only fair to first confess what exactly you are going to kill me over. My heritage or my desire to protect the person you rival most?” “Hmm…” Sephiroth chuckles, once again closing the distance between them. “Do you think only death can pacify you?” The flower girl raises a skeptical chestnut brow. Sephiroth always spoke in riddles, and it was often difficult to tell when he was serious or when he was mocking. If there was even the slightest difference between the two. When the opportunity presents itself to escape, Aerith won’t dare miss it. She doesn’t wish to die. “What do you mean?” She is almost afraid of her own curiosity. Nothing good will happen by showing interest to this man. “Your death is not in my plans.” Masamune disappears from his hand, giving way to Black Materia instead. Aerith knows that this is definitely not a good sign. Her Cetra blood irks at the sight of the dark orb. “I see you’re intrigued.” His voice was alien and distant. Sephiroth pauses, studying the silly girl’s incredulous expression. “Today I offer a choice: life in exchange for obedience.” “What am I supposed to do? Get on my knees and beg for your mercy?” The Cetra snorts with accentuated disdain. “We can get there later. Best not get ahead of yourself.” Streams of darkness rapidly fill the space, enveloping Sephiroth from all sides, like a cocoon. She listens to the grotesque sounds of bones breaking, joints crackling, and skin bursting. Three pairs of powerful white feathered wings are tearing apart the clothes of the former SOLDIER. His right hand, growing together with Materia, forms another but clawed, awkward. A large leathery wing. Aerith grimaced in horror and disgust. Her staff slips from her fingers, clattering against the concrete slab when beams of golden light form a double halo behind Sephiroth. No… this is no longer Sephiroth. This is a Seraph. This transformation is what the Cetra saw in her prophetic dreams. “You’re confused…” The Seraph says, boasting the superiority that was himself. “Obey me, follow my will, and I will not offend you.” “You just don’t give up, do you?” Aerith barks, tone dripping in indignation. “You pretend to be a god, brag about your immense untouchable power… Well, you know, I am not some obedient puppy. I am stubborn and will not surrender to you!” “Just how had that stubbornness aided you before but left you in ruins.” The man remarks sarcastically. “There’s no need to be afraid, today it’s not the sword that will penetrate you but my cock.” The Cetra’s eyes widened in mute bewilderment, her body frozen. Was her hearing off by chance? Maybe she interpreted his words. Was the sight of his naked torso affecting the musings of her deeply tucked away lewd thoughts? Staring at him like so, it must be acknowledged, even in her own mind, that she’s never seen such a beautiful body. It was strangely wonderful, but nevertheless, unrealistically beautiful. Even the huge wings, which replaced the Seraph’s legs, no longer seemed to be disgusting to her. “You’re cornered, Cetra, face it. The exit is behind me. You can try to hit me with your little bauble or run away. But you are not such a fool that cannot come to understand what consequences this is fraught with.” “Are you just going to fuck me, is that it?” Not once does embarrassment weaken her, and Aerith crosses her arms over her chest. She’s almost positive he’s testing her. Left alone to stalk and prey, now that he’s bored, he decided to have fun instead. Well, she can play too and willingly accepts the challenge. It’s not even a problem. She is not a prude who is afraid of losing her virginity before marriage. This is just a natural need, nothing more. Every being, human and monster alike has them. Even someone like him, too. “Great! Let’s get started! Your personal belongings, if any, will not frighten me!” “I’m glad you’re forthcoming of the situation. Rebirth has done you good.” Aerith frowns. She doesn’t want to think about what connected them. The lines of life are erased, and time goes in cycles, reviving the world anew, but the memory of ordinary people doesn’t notice alternatives. They live without remembering the day of their death. But Aerith remembers. Sephiroth remembers too… “Come to me…” He orders, but the Cetra doesn’t seem to acknowledge. She stands tall, ignorant of his demands. “You must obey me of your own volition.” “Who are you to tell me I should obey?! At this time, you’re nobody to me!” “Right, girl. Worry not, we’ll fix that soon enough.” His voice sounds too close… Aerith is startled and looks up at the man. He’s right in front of her, only the wingspan does not allow him to get close to her. Surrounded by golden rays, Safer was truly like a deity. The features of his face have not changed much. This is still Sephiroth, but his skin is darker, as if kissed by the sun, his hair is no longer subject to gravity — tending to heights, not to the ground. The girl’s emerald gaze falls a little lower, to the black leathery wing, massive pectoral muscles, and complex patterns of veins. He’s magnificent, it’s undeniable. She doesn’t dare to look even lower, although she casually notices that an interesting place is covered with swirling haze. So there is something he must be hiding. “Come to me.” Having sunk onto a stone block, the Seraph invitingly beckons with his hand. Now Aerith finds herself obeying. She’s even a bit bodacious. “Pull this up.” “Are you serious? Trap me and fuck me. What little matter is my clothing?” The words feel like dirt in her mouth, but the Cetra’s eyes burn with determination and indomitable hardness. “Do not flatter yourself. Your body is not a desired necessity.” “Then I don’t understand why? What and to whom are you going to prove how I get fucked?” “You only need to spread your legs at the right time, you don’t need to know the rest. If you do what I tell you, then I’ll let you and all your rescuers go.” “Like I should trust you?” “You already trust me. There is no point in continuing this useless conversation. Do what I say.” Aerith sighs sharply and angrily and pulls up the hem of her dress as instructed. Her cheeks tint slightly ashamed of her attire, the cheap, slightly washed underwear unpleasing to the eyes. Lacking all that attain attention, frills, embroidery, and lace. Not that it should matter, her picture of her first time was already ruined despite the unpleasant choice of panties. Safer pushes over the unattractive strip of cotton, and slides his finger along the delicate petals of her hidden lips. But contrary to his expectations, the bud of her floral clit meets him with unfriendly dryness. “You’re giving me quite the trouble.” He concludes grimly. “Oh, sorry!” Aerith feels horribly uncomfortable with such insistent or rather intrusive attention. “As you can very much see, I’m not the one you need! If you thought I was a whore because I live in the slums then…” Before she has time to throw out her umbrage, someone’s strong hands grab her from behind, covering her mouth with a leathered palm. “Stay still and don’t move.” They whispered directly into the Cetra’s ear. His voice was deep and sultry, strands of silver hair fluttered before her eyes. H-How can this be? Sephiroth? The girl tries to turn around to see if she’s right, but he holds her tightly, one wrapping around her neck and the other sliding down her side. Strong but gentle fingers squeeze her in both places. He does not choke, only threatens. Aerith has no doubt this man is capable of breaking her in one short, practiced move. And quite possibly find the joy in it. “That’s it. Good girl.” He praises when she feigns resignation, his lips linger over her temple. They are cold and hard… She begins to idly wonder how they would feel on her own. “There are two of you?” Aerith’s eyes are a mixture of surprise and concern. “That’s not possible.” “Wrong, my little Cetra. My probabilities are beyond your comprehension. It’s time you learn the lesson.” “You still never answered me? Why? Why me?” “You are the one I need.” She swears she can hear his smirk. He did remember! Although it was immediately obvious that his goal was higher than carnal pleasures, otherwise he would have attached his cock to a more sexual person. To Tifa, for example. After all, Aerith has seen more than once how men stare at luxurious asses and breasts. And not only men! She herself… sometimes… So what? It’s hard to resist such a gift of nature. Sephiroth methodically strips her of her clothes, doing so with no hint of passion or madness. His actions are precise and intelligent, painless as long as there is no resistance. He gets the Cetra down on all fours, squeezing her ass with rough fingers, gripping her thighs, rubbing her clit, forcing her to shudder and scrape the ground beneath her. Safer watches them from a dais, like an impersonal spectator in a theater. He’s waiting for the first groans of tension, the first response of the body, and then he spreads his front wings, inviting the Cetra to him. No more questions. No more words. The ghostly haze no longer hides anything and his readiness is as obvious as day. What happens next is easily guessed. The girl’s face is scorched with treacherous heat, but Sephiroth pushes her back to the Seraph, lowering her legs lower and forces her to spread wide. Aerith is worried. The Seraph’s wings caress her back, the touch soft and gentle and then something else… Himself… Hot and big agasint the small of her back. The size of a monster if she’s ever thought to guess. His body temperature no doubt higher than the average human. And he smells so nice too… The sickening smell of blood absent. “Don’t be afraid. As long as you are obedient, I will be gentle for you.” He purposes behind her. “Oh, really? How fucking generous.” The Cetra asks hoarsely, hastily swallowing her building saliva. “I won’t rape you. How is it possible to call violence with what you feel for me? This is akin to masochism, but never brutality. These feelings scare you but at the same time you yearn to continue. You are too curious and, as you said, “stubborn”. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you want… me.” With the newest position, his fingers slide between her thighs with ease. Aerith bites her lip, trying to shake off the inappropriate, embarrassing arousal. It would be better if he fucked her while she was dry so at least a drop of pride could be preserved. However, as much as she hates to admit it, he’s right. Her curiosity is indeed a great strength. The temptation to succumb is very great… But what about after? What will become of her? Will he let her go as he claims? Her friends? She unconsciously touches his wings. The feathers are wide, developed, and flexible. Small soft fluffs stick out in some places on the Seraph’s sides. This unconsciously brings a smile to her lips, so Aerith digs deeper with her fingers to get to the hidden skin. How could she not explore? When will this opportunity ever present itself again? Simultaneously to her eager touch, Sephiroth presses his lips to her pussy in front of her. “Oh!” The flower girl squeals, shifting uncomfortably as she tries to change her posture. The Seraph behind her gave her no leeway to move. “What are you… No! Stop it!” “I told you not to move.” The Seraph’s voice sounds predatory. “Look at him. Watch what he will do to you.” And she does, blushing, legs trembling. Sephiroth’s long bangs block her vision, but Aerith feels every caress, every lick of his hot tongue. The sweetness of this feeling is inimitable. With his single hand, the Seraph squeezes and teases the Cetra’s small breasts. Her tender nipples harden under his commanding fingers. What is this feeling? Is it weakness? Or a desperate attempt to snatch a piece of pleasure? The desire to be with a man or the desire to be with him? Aerith doubts the correctness of all options. She whimpers and arches her back, moaning and writhing, clutching his angelic wings when Sephiroth opens her lower succulent lips like a blooming flower. A sweet spasm twists within her young body. Her soul approaches the stars and disintegrates into billions of particles in order to come together again. Both fear and tension disappear somewhere. It gets so good that Aerith gets drowsy in pleasure. She feels as though life is floating around her, like she could fall asleep right now on the Seraph’s chest, wrapping herself in his warm wings. Except someone deprives her of the cherished warmth, her back now in contact with a blistering cold surface of stone. Aerith can’t resist the shiver. She’s naked and relaxed, completely vulnerable to a predator that is about to devour her with vigor. The silence is broken by the rustling of clothes and the snapping sound of trousers. The zip of a zipper. What she expects should happen, happens so quickly that Aerith doesn’t have time to think, let alone prepare, mentally or physically. A sharp pain burns her pussy, breaking away her feigned purity. Aerith screams, jerking, trying to move away from the source of pain. Sephiroth says otherwise and grabs her by the hair. This doesn’t stop her as she tries to kick him. But it’s too late… A powerful dick pushes onward, stretching and forcing past the tight resistance under him. Luckily, the pain doesn’t last forever, subsiding. Sephiroth almost freezes when he completely immerses himself in her, only rocking his hips slightly, allowing her to adjust and relax. It’s like a breath of air before jumping into the abyss. For as long as Aerith could remember, she wanted to be loved, kissed. To be given written letters and be read poetry. She wanted men to do all sorts of stupid things like Zack once did for her, but at the very first frictions, she understands that Sephiroth will never do such evocative things, he may almost be a god but not a quivering lover. He thrusts into her so hard, confidently, cool that he does not fuck her but directly attacks, penetrating his natural blade into the victim’s body. He slams into her, frenzied only to suddenly move away. Not to say that this was a disappointment, but Aerith feels unpleasant annoyance, cold and empty inside where she was just once warm and full. An extremely strange feeling really. As just a moment ago, she dreamed of tearing a handful of hair out of his head, but now she sighs resentfully. To her bitter thanks, Sephiroth returns her to her previous place from before. Now facing the Seraph, he forces her to kneel. Oh, how in vain that it was her that gave him this idea! “Touch me.” Safer’s words tickle and tease her nerves, though the Cetra doesn’t see the need. His manly cock already rises like an obelisk. She hesitates, undecided, unsure. Her mind absently wanders over his muscles, thirsty with hunger and she finally musters the flame within her to proceed. Her green eyes cling to the delicate path of silver hair running down from his navel. Wings flapping excitedly, changing course. “You should taste me. Devour the gift of the gods.” He puts his hand on the back of her head, pulling her closer. First with her hand, then with a timid kiss, the Cetra grasps the hard, hot flesh, tracing her tongue over the swollen veins. It’s definitely not as scary as she once thought. Her main thought was that he does not force her to act like in all sorts of those lascivious books she reads. Otherwise, it will be worse for him if she closes her teeth on him from surprise. Fortunately, Safer does not require any virtuosity. Through the noise in her head, Aerith hears the rustle of movement and understands perfectly just what kind of sounds they originate. Oh, Gaia! A shiver of anticipation runs through her body. She arches her back and exhales noisily, feeling the rough skin of gloves on her ass, the hot touch of a slick tip at her sex. She inhales at the sharp penetration. Sephiroth moves slowly and smoothly, wrapping the Cetra’s braid around his enclosed hand. He stretches her inner walls, massages them with his cock, stirring her blood and awakening her sensitivity. It’s not ecstasy, of course, but it’s tolerable. It could almost be called good. “Sit on me and let me be inside you.” The Seraph demands, pulling the girl out of her rising oblivion. He pushes forward the front of his wings adjust to her, bending for her convenience. The girl doesn’t protest and eagerly moves away from the previous activity and climbs on Safer quite boldly, drowning her feet in countless white feathers. She feels a hard touch below and involuntarily turns to look at Sephiroth. But he’s disappeared. There are only piles of stones mixed with fragments of debris. “He accomplished his task…” Safer explains, protecting the Cetra from an accidental fall with a hand on the small of her back. It’s almost gentlemanly dare she admit. “Sit. The sword must go into the scabbard.” Trying to look as relaxed as possible, Aerith finds him by touch and guides him into her, wincing at the slow intrusion, burning and somehow painful once again. It seems that this form surpasses Sephiroth at all levels. Body and magic. “Move, Aerith.” Her name from his lips sounds oddly strange to her. This was the first he’s addressed her by name and not the faceless legacy of the Ancients. “It hurts.” She admits, shying her gaze away. “Pain is the other side of pleasure. Dive into it. Let it exist.” With a massive leathery wing, Safer blankets the Cetra’s back, the course rough feeling not lost to her. If she had to guess she’d say it serves as a defensive mechanism for the Seraph. He exponentially pushes upwards, aiding her discomfort. Grasping his shoulders and balancing on the verge of pleasure and torment, Aerith repeats the given rhythm, swaying, as if on waves, up and down. His muscles tense, his wings tremble amusingly in a dance as ancient as the world. Seraph doesn’t groan, doesn’t pant, and his face doesn’t distort the rapture of bliss, but his eyelids gradually fill with heaviness, his lips part, exposing the white line of teeth. Unable to resist, Aerith reaches for him, wanting to taste his forbidden kiss. But their carnal contact breaks and Safer immediately opens his eyes. “Hey, now! Please show me some respect!” Aerith snorts, embarrassed at being caught red-handed, but still eager to get what she wants. “Didn’t I deserve a kiss?” “Do you want one?” His face is still unreadable. There is not a single emotion present. “What if I said yes?” Without any further permission, he leans forward, falling back with Aerith to a flat surface, and presses a weightless, truly unearthly kiss to the girl’s lips. She hears the rustling of his wings, and he crushes her comfortably under him to restore the connection with one strong thrust, now completely entrapped within her. He takes her until his male seed spills into her tormented womanhood.

***

“Thank Gaia, you’re awake!” Tifa’s voice suddenly exclaimed, giving the girl a soft, kind smile. “You slept for almost a day. What happened between you two?” “Between me and who?” Aerith questioned groggily, taken aback. The accumulated fatigue and stress clouded her memories. Now she could only remember vague images, blurred by the nuances of the sensations experienced at that moment. “When Sephiroth separated us, Cloud and I rushed after you, wandering through the labyrinths of dimensions for who knows how long. Then we found you unconscious. But there is no visible damage, so that’s good. There are no bruises or wounds on you that I could see either. Cloud of course, always has to be treated, as we both got a buttload of injuries. Luckily you were unscathed.” “Yeah, lucky… So he healed me…” Aerith muttered under her breath, then added more prominently. “So I… D-Did I have any clothes on?” Tifa blinked once, twice. “What a strange question! Of course they were!” “That’s me for you…strange….” The Cetra chuckles nervously, waving her off with embarrassment. “I must’ve thought my nightmare had come true.” “Oh! That’s okay! I sometimes get bad dreams that feel real too. Are you sure you don’t have any pain?” “Yeah, I’m fine. I must have passed out so he lost interest. He needs battles, otherwise, he would have killed us all a long time ago.” “I also thought that too. In fact, we are the ones chasing him, not him us. Well, except for yesterday. He just seemed to appear out of nowhere. I think, now you have to be careful. It’s not known what will come into his head now. Oh! While I got you, Marlene sends her regards. Cloud has some business to take care of so it’s unlikely that he will come by today.” “Oh, that sounds like him. I have no doubt we’ll survive this…” “That’s the spirit. Now, c’mon, looks like you need to eat and recuperate, you’re deathly pale.” The modest care of her friend is sincerely touching to Aerith. And she smiles, following after the fighter. Honestly, everything seemed to be normal again… Like it really all was just a horrible dream. Aerith was once again back to laughing and enjoyed life again. She looked after flowers in an abandoned church. She was fond of new acquaintances, traveling, like a sponge absorbing impressions from the world around her. But she was getting too exhausted far too quickly lately. She wants to blame the unhealthy snacks or untested herbs they scavenge but even healthy food from inns didn’t seem to help her body any. Day by day she grew increasingly sicker, mostly in the mornings and sometimes in the middle of the night. Her days of fun now were just tired drowsiness. Nanaki was the first to react to these changes. Due to the peculiarities of his species, he had an excellent sense of smell and one day tactfully hinted, but Aerith didn’t understand or rather didn’t want to acknowledge his hits. Then Tifa (without ulterior motives) praised her for her change. Ecstatic that she is eating better to gain healthy weight. That if she kept it up her breast will just keep getting bigger, along with other parts of her body. Expect was food supposed to make them so painfully tender? It wasn’t until she missed her menstrual cycle that she began to realize. Aerith was frantic, almost howling in denial. With trembling hands, she somehow managed to pull on her dress, and boots and quickly ran out of the house like a bullet. She rushed along the narrow paths as much as she could, frivolously believing that it would become easier. However, her body wasn’t having it for it grew exhausted within a matter of minutes. She pants, finding a spot to sit down by the side of the road, and stared mournfully at the darkening silhouettes of buildings. “I know you are there.” Her thoughts were confused, exemplary. Self-control slowly leaves the girl bit by bit. “If you have even a shred of courage, you’ll show yourself. Or I’ll lie down with my bones. But don’t think for a second your safe because I will get to you, and shake out your foul little soul, scattering it in the Lifestream!” He showed up almost immediately. Small stones and debris crunched deliciously under the soles of his boots. “Why did you want to see me?” “Like you don’t know?” Aerith nearly lashed out at him with her fists, damning her sanity to shreds. “Do you even comprehend what has happened? Well, do you?!” “I do,” Sephiroth replied with a detached voice, but also with some willingness to clarify the conversation. “You… Ugh, so that was your plan…” Her voice trembled as tears slowly began rolling down her cheeks. She had to take a deep breath to keep from going into hysterics. “But why… Why do you need a child if you still want to destroy the Planet? Where is the logic in that?” “You’re not entirely correct.” He stood next to the Cetra and patiently waited for her to stop crying, after which he slowly proceeded to enlighten her. “Part of me belongs to a species alien to Gaia, that’s undeniable. Jenova is different from humans. Some call ’her’ a monster, some a deity, but in fact ’she’ is neither. Despite the feathered wings, the life cycle ’she’ carries is divided into stages, more similar to the insect’s metamorphosis. Since human genes predominate in me, these stages are inexact, the instincts are mixed.” “Why is this relevant? I don’t need to know this.” Aerith didn’t really understand. “I thought that I was chosen by the Planet, but my knowledge was not correct either. This form is only the beginning of the metamorphosis. Its goal is to accumulate strength, develop and improve. Bizarro is the stage of maturation and dormancy. As Bizarro, I am sedentary and exist mainly on the basis of previously accumulated energy. The Black Materia allows me to skip this stage by forcibly stimulating maturation. And, finally, Safer… This is the last and perfect form. Safer’s main mission is resettlement and reproduction. Only then does my seed become fertile. And only then will I be able to leave the Planet to look for another suitable place for life. Not here. Gaia is not what I need.” Sephiroth glanced at the silent Cetra, who is sat without the slightest hint of interest on her face, but she doesn’t interrupt. “So before taking the next step, I prefer to test the ground first.” There was an oppressive and uncomfortable silence. Aerith mutely digests the information, turning away and wiping the salty streaks on her cheeks. “Of the entire population of Gaia, why me? It’s so…wrong.” Her stomach almost turned inside out. “Do you want to make sure your lineage continues? Logically, I understand. But you have hordes of fans, they would gladly give you at least a hundred children!” “You already answered your own question. We’re similar. We’re not humans, but we’re lost amongst them. Everything ends with us. One child will be enough. To start with for now.” “I can get rid of it.” “The one who values life cannot take it away.” “It’s unfair! I dreamed of a simple and peaceful life. I liked the way I lived until I met you! Sometimes I want to hate you, so I could relate to Cloud, maybe even envy him…” “You’re foolishly driving yourself senseless… Don’t be afraid. This life is precious.” “It’s easy for you to say! You will not bear a child under your ungrateful heart! It won’t tear you apart from the inside! So I have every right to be afraid!” Aerith falls silent again, eyes drawn to stare only at Sephiroth’s boots. No way they could be feet beneath those black soles, much too big, have to be paws or some other inhuman feature. They couldn’t be human, he wasn’t. As she compares his large foot to her tiny one, she is reminded of that day. A unhelpful memory of how this two-meter asshole, done fucked her. Firstly giving her bliss, then he took that away, take, take, take! Her freedom, her virginity, her womb, her life… And he will probably take the baby away too. He’s already used to taking now. What would be stopping him? Her? Aerith almost fucking laughs. “What will happen to me when it’s all over? Will you kill me?” She didn’t dare look Sephiroth in the eye, afraid to see the confirmation of her fears within the green pools. “Don’t you know, my little Cetra? Every child needs a Mother.”