5Picture a long golden ribbon on black background, with various Cetra slogans printed along its length, curled in such a way that it forms a large round loop. Picture a suspiciously chocobo-like 'lion' as it looks around curiously. Now listen to its impressive roar:
"Waaaaaaaark! Waaaark!"
…And now back to the author.
One fine day some few months back, after looking over a certain topic on the FFVII Story Request Forum, I got to thinking about crack-pairings – more to the point, thinking about writing them in such a way that they might just actually be IC and canon-compliant. This is one of the first batch out of half-a-dozen or so.
Rating: T. A low T at that.
Warnings: Language. Also (implied only!) non-con, bestiality. Because…
Pairing: (implied) Random Flock of Chocobos x Cloud's Mom. Yes, really. Also Cloti and very slight Yuffentine.
Summary: One fine evening, while Cloud's out of the room, Yuffie tells AVALANCHE a bedtime story. Perhaps he shouldn't have left…
Disclaimer: You know, it'd be funny if Squaresoft / Square Enix did this with their property… but they didn't. Aw nuts.
The Beautiful Choco-Master's Daughter,
or,
How Vincent Valentine was Proven to Possess a Sense of Humour
(A/N: Yes, yes, I know. Vincent doesn't possess a sense of humour, and therefore he's probably OOC by default here. You don't have to tell me. That's half the point.)
—ox-oxo-xo—
It was that time of night on that fine August evening, when the party that was an AVALANCHE reunion began to gradually die down as its participants suddenly remembered the various lives they had to return to the next day. But it hadn't yet reached the point when they could actually muster the willpower to end the fun and pass out.
Well, for most of them anyway.
"G'night, guys!" Tifa Lockheart swayed a little; clearly 'under the weather'…which was to say, quite inebriated. With Denzel and Marlene being looked after by Shera and Shelke over in Rocket Town for the weekend, the bartender had leaped at the opportunity to for once partake in meaningful measure of her own stock. (Cloud's arm around her waist might have had some influence on her decision to retire, of course. But the others didn't like to think of that. At least, they hoped they didn't.)
The others waved at the pair, with varying levels of enthusiasm and sobriety. The birthday boy (twenty-five this year – if he survived the next year, he'd outstrip Sephiroth in the last area that mattered to him, having already surpassed the General in the areas of combat, fangirls and finding true love) led the giggling Tifa upstairs to bed with a smirk only a fraction sloppier than usual; what with all the mako-enhancements, the poor guy had a hard time trying to get drunk nowadays.
The host and hostess faded from the others' view. Yuffie began to stir.
"…Wait."
She stared at Vincent's shrouded form, and his upraised hand. "What? What are you—"
Tifa's head poked back out from the stairwell, glaring with comical (and somewhat exaggerated) intensity at the young thief. Then Tifa's head disappeared with a yelp as Cloud began dragging her away.
Vincent dropped his hand. Yuffie flashed a grin at him as she vaulted the counter, grabbed several bottles and began mixing a really, really big drink. A grinning Cid swivelled on his stool to deliver some sort of comment; finding his nose inexplicably flattened by the barrel of a shiny golden pistol, he changed his mind and sculled down the remainder of his present glass.
Drinks were distributed. Drinks were consumed. The lack of baby-Cloud photos was rued for the fifth time that evening – mainly for the look of the thing. After all, at least one of them had been around for the really embarrassing dirt on Cloud Strife – a.k.a. 'The Lil' Blond Stalker', or 'The Lil' Blond Crossdresser', or 'The Lil' Blond Sephy-Sextoy'. (Okay, not really. That last lil' quip had cost Reeve a Cait-doll, but most of AVALANCHE considered its sacrifice a noble one. Several of them had shed proud tears over its grave – a.k.a. the rubbish bin outside the Seventh Heaven. They hadn't lingered too long there, though; the antiquated chamberpot that had inexplicably been emptied into said bin might have had something to do with this.)
Then Yuffie had an idea. Why this idea required that she stand on the counter was a question that her audience did not bother to contemplate, though the Round Island 'iced tea' (8.6 standard drinks according to Edge's regulations, or 1.4768246373 s.d.'s by Goblin-measure) that she'd just inhaled might have had something to do with it.
"Gather round, my fine young children, and listen as Yuffie the Master of Chronicles tells you a story…" She was probably trying for 'oration', but it came out more 'singsong' due to the aforementioned drink.
"…Master, my ass…"
"Shut up, Barret! And also, ewww!"
—ox-oxo-xo—
Once upon a time…
…there was a far-away village, in the shadow of a tall mountain.
(Vincent and Nanaki's ears pricked up at this point, and they shared subtle, conspiratorial glances laden with amusement and anticipation. While their hearing cancelled any need to guess at what Cloud was up to – they'd gotten used to it, over the years – it would no doubt serve as a gauge of how much attention he was paying to events elsewhere…)
It was a very remote village. Almost no-one even knew where it was. There was only one reason why anyone else went there, really: A Chocobo Stable, the best one in all the land.
That Chocobo Stable was run by a wrinkly old man. Because, you know, they always are. (The self-proclaimed Storyteller Yuffie's audience recalled Chocobo Bill – not to mention the Chocobo Sage – and nodded in agreement.) And that old Choco-Master had a beautiful daughter.
That daughter was the heir to the Chocobo Stable. And it was a good thing, too. Because she loved Chocobos. I mean, she REALLY loved Chocobos. I tell ya, it was a good thing her dad owned a stable, 'cause otherwise she'd have run off to join the nearest circus with chocobos in it. Seriously, she—
("…Yuffie."
"Oh, right. Thanks, Vince!")
Ahem! Anyway… One day she grew up, and the young men of the village saw how oh-so-beautiful she was. And she really was beautiful. Not like 'only-cute-girl-in-the-backwater-village' beautiful, but, like, 'fairy-tale princess' beautiful. And so, the young men of the village began trying to court her. But there was a problem.
("Let me guess: the choco-smell?"
"Shut up Cid!"
"What! Ol' Vampy interrupts you, and it's all 'aww, thanks Vinnie-poo!'? I say something and you tell me to shut the fuck up?"
"…! I said, shut up!")
You see, the beautiful daughter had spent sooo much time around her beloved Chocobos that the young men lost heart, despairing that she would never see them.
("…See, I told yer. It's the smell."
Yuffie Kisaragi glared at Cid from under her 'Storyteller Yuffie' hat. The fact that it looked distinctly like the headgear for her moogle-cloak was something her audience did not see fit to mention – especially when compared to the far more interesting question of how exactly she'd put the damn thing on without none of them noticing in the first place. "…Do you want me to spike your next drink?"
"Yes please!"
"Augh…!")
…And the beautiful daughter felt very lonely. Until one day, when there came to the town a handsome dark stranger from another village. This handsome young man had decided to go out and see the world… but he wasn't in a hurry, so he'd also decided to stop for a while at each village he came to and do some part-time work.
(Barret snickered. "Yeah, right."
"Bar-ret…!"
"…Sorry 'bout that, kiddo. Keep on goin'.")
Well, that handsome young stranger liked Chocobos too, so he got some work as a stablehand with the old Choco-Master's Chocobo Stable. And much to everyone's amazement, the Choco-Master's beautiful daughter opened up her heart to the handsome stranger. (Several mouths opened to deliver a comment. She glared at them. Several mouths closed.) All the young men of the village went, "Ohh! So that's how you get her attention!" and immediately tried out in the stables. But then they all remembered why they'd avoided working in the stables all this time. That smell, you know…
("See? See?"
A drink went sliding across the bar, to come to rest in front of the pilot. "Don't say I didn't warn you!"
"Cheers!" The drink was consumed with great enthusiasm. Several cameras were prepared.)
…And so the handsome stranger grew closer and closer to the Choco-Master's beautiful daughter.
And then it came…that fateful day. The day when they went off for a picnic, out on the plains. (The Wutain thief's mischievous face somehow contorted to attain a gravity that had never before been seen in any other circumstance – like, ever. The others gaped up at her in awe.) What happened out there that day, no-one ever found out. But as the sun set on that horrible day, the beautiful young woman came staggering back through the village gates, alone.
She was in a bad way, let me tell you. Her clothes were tattered and torn, and her pretty hair was askew, and she was covered in blood and yellow feathers. And she was weeping so hard, she looked like she wanted to just curl up and die…
("Lassie…are you sure ya haven't been gettin' intae the angsty wrist-slashin' poetry again?"
Yuffie threw an unopened bottle of beer at the offending Cait-doll. It glanced off the doll's shoulder and winged into its owner's hand. Reeve's subsequent applause at the timely bar-service mollified her somewhat.)
…Oh, and that handsome young stranger? He was never, ever seen again.
Well… the village doctor rushed over with his lovely Cure Materia, and the Choco-Master's beautiful daughter's life was saved. But she was never quite the same again. For some reason, the young woman who loved her Chocobos so much, never ever set foot into her wrinkly old dad's stable – Ever Again.
(Barret fell off his chair laughing. Cid just fell off his chair. The others spared him little more than a glance – after all, she had warned him. Besides, it wasn't exactly a rare occurrence. It was just a disappointment that he hadn't thrown up, or attempted to hit on Vincent, or tried to recycle his drink by pissing into his glass, or…well, you get the idea. So did they – most of the cameras were put away again.)
It was terrible! Her old man was so depressed, he closed the Chocobo Stable and was packed off to a nursing home. But that wasn't all.
Nine months after that, the beautiful daughter got really, really sick. The village doctor came over to visit again, and looked her over, and told her that she was about to have a baby!
(Nanaki began to roll around laughing. To be fair to him, his sudden outburst was largely due to a natural sense of bogglement at the concept of a den-mother going for almost the entire term of her pregnancy whilst completely failing to realise this. To be fair to the others, they had no idea of the firecat's train of thought; as such, the spectacle was greeted with a certain amount of astonishment, expressed in the popular form of slack-jawed gaping.
Eventually he reined himself in and rolled upright.
"My apologies. Please continue, Yuffie."
"Thanks, Red." Her muttered 'weirdo' comment was tactfully ignored by all…except for Cid, who still hadn't moved since falling off his stool. He just ignored it, sans tact.)
So the midwife was called over, and the doctor left – because really, what self-respecting woman would want some strange guy wearing rubber gloves hanging around to watch that kind of thing? But THIS doctor was a good doctor, so he left without having to be chased with a broom. And he even took his camera with him. What a nice doctor…
("…Yuffie."
"Oh right, I'm gettin' sidetracked again. Thanks again, Vince!"
A muffled complaint issued from the general vicinity of the floor. It was so unintelligible that the customary string of symbols which aren't being used for this story wouldn't have been required anyway.)
The midwife asked who the father was, because it was such a scandal that the beautiful daughter had just given birth to a bouncing baby bastard-boy. (Cait Sith stood up and clapped. Reeve tried to swat the doll, and somehow managed to miss.) The daughter told her that the handsome dark stranger was the boy's father.
And as the midwife looked down at the newborn baby's tuft of bright yellow hair, and listened to the newborn baby's ever-so-distinctive wail – "Waaaaaaaah-k! Waaaaaaaah-k!" – and recalled the feathers the beautiful daughter had come home covered in that awful day nine months ago, she decided not to argue…
—ox-oxo-xo—
Yuffie struck a pose, wobbling only slightly, standing on the counter with a proud grin as four-fifths of her audience (five-sixths, if you counted Cait Sith and Reeve as two people) exploded into riotous laughter. 'She did not just go there!' was the general consensus.
(Meanwhile, the odd man out of said audience quietly prepared his camera again. This, he thought, should actually be mildly entertaining…)
"But…!" the littlest ninja (second-to-littlest if you included Shake, which Yuffie didn't) continued, "That baby grew up to be a very special little boy! A boy who went on a journey to the big city, and made a heap of friends, and defeated this evil wizard with his really, really big sword—"
"Yuffie…!"
That worthy spun in place on the counter, somehow contriving not to fall over. Her every feature suddenly exuded innocence by the bucketload as she looked down at the newcomer.
"…What?"
Yuffie shrugged. Cloud glowered back.
Tchick!
"…Cloud."
Six sets of eyes swivelled to goggle disbelievingly and with varying levels of focus at Vincent Valentine. He glared at the ex-birthday boy (twenty-five years and one day, by this point), somehow contriving to look as if he'd had absolutely nothing to do with the camera which had just taken a flash-photo of Cloud Strife's face at that fateful moment. Given that the offending object was still sitting in his hands, this was particularly impressive.
"While it is true that you have made a great deal of progress… one must be careful to avoid backsliding. In neglecting your wife, you appear to have forgotten that." He shook his head sorrowfully. "I am most disappointed in you. For shame, Cloud."
Six sets of eyes carried on staring. The face attached to one set turned bright red.
At which point a burst of incredulous feminine laughter, pealing away from up the stairs – punctuated by a thud as the hysterical Tifa fell on the floor – triggered a great tide of answering mirth from down the stairs. More thud followed as stools and chairs (and the counter, let's not forget the counter) were abandoned for the greater stability of the floor under their feet.
And at the centre of Ground Zero, only two remained upright. Cloud glowered at Vincent, his bright-red face releasing enough energy to provide central heating to 5.3 medium-sized homes. Vincent just sipped at his drink.
Well... not 'just'.
Tchick!
—ox-oxo-xo—
It was one fine afternoon, nearly ten years later, when Yuffie finally got around to telling Denzel and Marlene the story of that fateful evening. Over the years her high-pitched voice had mellowed a little, and her skill at oratory had improved noticeably. But then, 'Aunt Yuffie' had always been the best storyteller (at least when she wasn't inebriated).
The two young teens listened, spellbound by her only slightly exaggerated tale, as she wound to a close.
"…And that's how we all proved that Uncle Vincent has a sense of humour!"
The pair burst into spontaneous applause; Yuffie took a bow. Then W.R.O. Pfc. Denzel Strife frowned as something occurred to him.
"So…let me see if I heard right…"
"Huh?"
"So…it took a story about Cloud's Mom being…" He paused, glancing sidelong at Marlene, and revised his phrasing slightly. "…um, ravished by chocobos…to prove that Vincent has a sense of humour…? Isn't that a little—"
"Denzel…!"
That worthy spun in place on his chair, gaping with surprise and a little terror at his de facto father's figure at the door. But only for a moment: Yuffie felt a great burst of pride as the adolescent's every feature suddenly exuded innocence by the bucketload.
"…What?"
Denzel shrugged. Cloud glowered back.
And then, following the iron laws of narrative causality, Yuffie Kisaragi fell off her chair laughing.
Ending A/N: So, um…yeah. As stated in one person's review of the last crack-pairing fic I posted – 'AVALANCHE: not nice people.'
Reviews would be nice? I'm quite liking the idea of all these crack-pairings, but I could always do with a little more in the way of encouragement and/or further ideas…
Until next time. Thank you for reading.