A Permament Promise

For 2020 Cloti Fall Festival.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, it's story, or it's characters.

"Are you ready?" Cloud asked.

Tifa nodded, flat on her stomach on the table and arms folded around the pillow.

"This will take a while. Let me know if you need to take a break, okay?" Tifa hummed, her gaze focused on the Buster Sword across the room.

You are the proof that I existed.

"Did you eat enough? Do you need more water?" Tifa turned her head, eyes teasing.

"You're taking too long."

His expression was serious, but his eyes crinkled. "Just making sure you don't faint on me."

She rolled her eyes at him, a soft smile on her face. "I'm ready." His eyes shifted to her back–– his gaze was as reverent as the gloved hand stroking her back. She rested her head back down, letting her hair pool off the worktable and breathing deeply to calm her nerves.

He grabbed a blue and an orange marker from his work tray, drawing directly onto her skin. He didn't want a stencil for this design. She knew that this would be the most important tattoo he would ever create, and he would gladly spend the extra time drawing to suit the grooves and crevices of her body.

When he finished outlining, he gave her a caramel chocolate bar to chew on, preparing his workstation with all the inks and needles he would need for the rest of the day. She munched on the chocolate, turning her head back towards the mirror tree and unable to pull her gaze away from the design on her back. When he asked what sort of tattoo she wanted, Tifa couldn't give him a clear answer. All she could say was that she wanted a tattoo that would immortalize everything she had gone through and everyone they had lost. He had spent three days working on the various sketches. When he presented the final design, she wept at how perfectly he had been able to capture what had been in her heart.

He talked her through the process for another four days. He made sure she ate full meals, walked her through breathing techniques. He washed her back when they showered together, assured her that the pain she likely imagined in her head would be far worse than it actually was. Not once did he ask her if she reconsidered, and she didn't think it was possible for her to love him even more for not allowing her to second guess her decision.

When he was ready, she laid back down on the table again. "You can't move from now on," Cloud said, "I'm starting. For whatever reason, if you need to pause, just let me know." She nodded her agreement as the humming of the rotary machine began. "Deep breath." She did, and he hovered over her as he brought the tool close to the back of her left shoulder. Then––

She pinched her brows and clenched her fingers around the pillow.

Cloud had been right. The first pricks did feel like a cat scratching deep into her skin, and it definitely was not as bad as she feared. Still, it hurt, and she bit her lip as she welcomed the pain as he continued. Not once pausing and moving so carefully and precisely across her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" She loved hearing those three words from him.

"I am," she responded, knowing he loved hearing those two words. Her eyes shifted to the mirror tree across from her, watching Cloud as he focused on whatever detail of the tattoo he was working on. He was beautiful during a fight. Cloud working on a tattoo was just as beautiful, if not more—his expression wholeheartedly more focused and purer.

Five years imprisoned in a Mako tube could not impede his muscle memory from how to draw. Or how to tattoo.

He had traded his SOLDIER uniform for black jeans and a black, wide arm-hole muscle shirt that exposed those beautiful sleeves on his arms and the tattoos on his ribs. A traditional, Wutain sleeve decorated his entire left arm of Phoenix, bold and dark as the blazing god of flame and rebirth wrapped around his arm with chrysanthemums and maple leaves. Tifa superstitiously wondered if, in getting that tattoo, Cloud would forever be blessed with the god protecting him from death.

Yuffie would arrive in a few weeks to have her own leg-sleeve done. She called Cloud every day to animatedly talk about the many designs she wanted, from ryus to karashishis to toras. Debated various elements to incorporate, such as cherry blossoms or flames or goldfish. Choosing either a color or a black and grey tattoo.

Cloud's sketchbook lay nearby, and it was opened to a page with a rough sketch of Leviathan wrapped in ocean waves and peonies. Wisdom, strength, and protection for the heir of Wutai.

After Yuffie, Cloud had also promised Cid that he would do a biomechanical skin rip on his forearm, similar to Cloud's sleeve on his right arm. Gears, coils, wires, and screws ripped out of torn black and grey skin rips. Cloud equally loved all of his tattoos, even the stupid party tattoos on his hips and knuckles, but he had a soft spot for that sleeve.

She hissed as he hit a sensitive spot at the edge of her right shoulder blade, a rush of adrenaline pulsing through her. But Cloud didn't stop, wouldn't stop unless she asked and trusted her to let him know if she wanted him to stop.

His shirt allowed her to see a bit more of his mother's portrait on his left rib cage.

"How did your mom react when she saw you come back with all those tattoos?"

He chuckled, moving down to begin tattooing the middle half of her back. "She was furious. She almost threw me out, especially after I told her that I was working as a tattoo artist." The illustrative, full figure black and grey portrait captured Claudia's unique beauty and graceful smile. Claudia had been a beautiful woman. Wearing a halter top and a skirt that reached to her knees, one could mistakingly think that she had been a model.

"She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that I ditched my plans to join SOLDIER after only being there for a couple of months. That even being an infantryman was more honorable than being mistaken for a delinquent covered in tattoos. She kept saying that the temptations of the city had influenced me and that I should find a mature girlfriend to set me straight."

Tifa bit her lip and let herself be reminded of the stabbing needles on her back to keep her from bursting out laughing.

"Did she come to accept it?"

"Eventually. I think it helped when she saw dad's dog tags right beneath her portrait."

Tifa could see in his eyes how grateful he was to that immature, brash fourteen-year-old Nibelheim boy for making those irresponsible decisions that led him on a different path. A path that now allowed him to have the last and only reminders of his parents.

The humming of the needle paused, and Tifa had peeked open her eyes to see Cloud removing his shirt with his back towards her.

She'd never stop marveling at the enormous Cetran backpiece.

A glorious, masterful piece Cloud's mentor, Evan, had gifted him after completing a year of apprenticeship. A monstrous backpiece, covering his entire back, replicating the Cetran Calendar, a historical and valuable piece of Cetran mythology that was found inside the Temple of the Ancients. It narrated the Planet's birth in a place the Cetran's called the Edge of Creation and foretold Gaia's future destruction against the Calamity of Creation––Meteor.

The entire piece had been done to replicate the calendar's calendar's original stonework, down to the tiniest details and small cracks, and every glyph masterfully done by Cloud's mentor. It was a stunning piece of artwork.

Aerith had loved it, too...

The story of the tattoo no longer held the same value as it did before for Cloud. It was once a marker of his hard labor and the bond he had formed with Evan. For his love of mythology and tattooing. Now, it was a marker of shame. Of his failure in giving Sephiroth the Black Materia to summon Meteor. For failing his beloved friend, who made the ultimate sacrifice to bring the White Materia to life.

Aerith was the last physical manifestation of Gaia's myths, living proof that all the stories that had survived for more than a millennia were real.

And she was gone...

"How are you feeling?" Cloud asked as he tattooed the middle of her back.

"I'm thirsty." He stopped his work to pick up a water pitcher and poured a cup before handing it to her. She steadily raised herself onto her elbows and took the cup from his hand, gulping down the water too fast and choking a bit. Cloud had chuckled, pouring water again into the cup and chuckling a bit more at the annoyed glare she made as she drank the water to calm herself. He poured himself a cup as well, and she greedily watched his throat as he drank the water before she shifted her gaze to the bold wolf tattoo on the side of his neck.

You are the living proof that I existed.

"How are you feeling? Do you need more sugar?"

Fussing. At times she loved to be the receiving end of his attention and care, and times she found it endearingly annoying. Possessive, even.

"My back feels so sore," she said, wincing and pinching her eyebrows as she exhaled a long breath. The adrenaline was slowing down, and she felt the burning across her skin.

"You're doing great," he softly praised as he wiped away excess ink. Tifa sharply gasped. "Breathe. If you tense up, it will only get worse."

"It hurts more when you wipe it than when you tattoo," she softly cried. Cloud softly pressed a kiss onto her temple.

"You're so strong, Tifa, so resilient. Not many people would have endured as long as you have. You're doing so good, sweetheart. If you need me to stop, just let me know. If it becomes too painful, you need to tell me." She breathed deep and exhaled again. If she was truthful, she really wanted to stop. Her skin was burning as if she skidded through hot asphalt.

But this pain––she'd endure it for a little bit longer. Remembering why she was doing it in the first place.

"Keep going."

"All right."

He stopped asking her if she was okay, trusting her to speak if she needed to stop. She looked up into the mirror tree to watch him. She could see the wolf tattoo as he extended his neck.

The first time she had ever seen that tattoo was when she met Zack in Nibelheim. She saw it peeking out of his turtleneck, and he happily pulled the neckline aside to show off his freshly done wolf tattoo. She was fascinated by it. It was the first time she had seen a tattoo worn by anyone. Nobody in Nibelheim had one, and so to see someone with it amazed her. She had asked him why he chose a wolf, and he had proudly declared that it was a matching tattoo with his best friend who had done it for him. His best friend, who had just completed a year of apprenticeship and Zack had repeatedly begged to be the first person to be tattooed by him.

Had she not been so focused on the tattoo and trying to distract herself from her blonde SOLDIER fantasies, she might have asked more about his friend. Would have found out that his friend had traveled with him to Nibelheim, his hometown, to visit his mom and break the news that he didn't join SOLDIER and became a tattoo artist.

He kept himself hidden, Cloud told her when they were in Mideel recovering from the Lifestream, hardly leaving his house and only came out during the night to walk around. Had begged Zack not to let her know that he was back in town and was content to just watch her from his window whenever she left the house. Watched as Zack sometimes accompanied her home in the evenings to make sure she was safe, happy to see how his best friend had gotten along with the girl he was madly in love with.

Zack had simply told him to grow a pair and go see her, that he should be the one with her.

And when she found Cloud at the train station in Sector Seven, five years later and her village burned down, wearing that exact same wolf tattoo, she had asked him why he had that tattoo. And she was horribly confused when Cloud told her about a friend who left SOLDIER to become a tattoo artist. Who wanted a matching tattoo with him to commemorate his first year of apprenticeship. It was like Cloud had stolen Zack's words, but he made no mention of the raven-haired SOLDIER.

How she wished that Hojo was alive just so she can kill the man herself for the five years stolen from Zack and Cloud. For warping Cloud's memory and forcing him to forget his best friend and ––

"Did you know," he began, cutting her off from her dark thoughts as if he had known precisely what she was thinking, "that after Mideel, when I got all of my memories back, I would watch you wearing your skirt and top, and I would imagine all of the tattoos I could do for you?"

"Oh?" she said, a smirk gracing her face. She used to catch Cloud watching her legs with that glint of hunger in his eyes.

"Yeah...You have so much skin for me to work on. I'd think about how good you would look in color, covered in tattoos. How I am going to be the only one to ever tattoo your body."

She scoffed. Of course he would think that.

So possessive, she thought.

He continued to work well into the evening, and as he did, she remembered her beloved dead. Her mother and father, for their unconditional love. Jessie, for her cheerfulness and being a source of laughter while sharing a pizza when the days were hard. Biggs, for being an older brother and watching over her even when he knew she could take care of herself. Wedge, for his continuous trust in Avalanche and everything he fought for. Zack, for being a friend for the time he had known her.

Aerith. Her soul-bonded sister, her friend…

Tifa didn't have enough words for Aerith. There never would be.

All of this was for them. Wherever they were in the Lifestream, Tifa prayed that they were all together.

She endured the needle flowing across her back, watched Cloud in the mirror tree. He never broke his focus, tending to her while he worked. As if he was in the middle of a holy ritual, not needing any words to let her know how honored he was to be able to do this for her. To be able to share her sorrow, mourn for all their losses, allowing the memories to silently flow in between them––

Together.

She knew that wherever she would go, he would go with her. Whatever life was offered to them, they would find a way to make it work and never be apart. As if they were two stars locked in orbit, searching for each other and never being able to leave.

As long as we're together...With you by my side, I'll never give up, no matter how bad it gets.

"Tifa," Cloud whispered, coaxing softly.

Her eyes fluttered open, shutting them tight again as he applied a jelly over her back. She winced as he rubbed his hand right over the back of her ribs, moaning a little as the jelly helped alleviate the raw burning on her skin. He leaned over her, his breath tickling her neck and ear. "Are you okay?" She hummed, a few tears streaming down her face but wiping them away before Cloud noticed. She gingerly rose, agonizingly slow, to her elbows and almost falling. Cloud watched her, letting her rise on her own and ready to help should she ask.

She approached the mirror tree, turning, and finally seeing herself.

A steady stream of tears came again, rolling and unending as she let out all of her love and sorrow. He cupped her face, pressing his forehead to hers for a moment before she rested her head against his shoulder. She felt him look up to see their reflection in the mirrors.

It was his best work of Cetran Script he had ever done for anyone. Cetran text scrolled, left to right, across her entire back, from her shoulders down to the small of her back. Three lilies rested in front of a black and grey Buster Sword in between her shoulder blades.

It was the story of her––

A story that began when a promise was made under a starry sky between a young girl and a young boy.

It told the night when her hometown burned and the night of the Fall of the Plate.

It confessed her sins.

It honored her parents, Avalanche, Zack, and Aerith.

It narrated her journey to stop the monster who destroyed her home and nearly eradicated the Planet.

And towards the bottom was the promise she made to herself––forgive. For without forgiveness, to herself and the ones who caused her heartache, she would forever live in the shadow of her memories that would give permission to impede her from her future.

Cloud wrapped a clear plastic wrap around her entire back and chest, silent as he finished tending to her. He rearranged his work station in front of the mirror tree, a new set of fresh ink and needles across his work table.

And then he began. He had chosen the area over his heart, tattooing his promises in Cetran.

On my behalf, you will live. You are the proof that I existed, on one line.

You take care of yourself, on the second.

Tifa never left his side as he worked, silently sipping on an herbal Wutain tea he said would help alleviate the aches. She watched with silver in her eyes, but there were no tears, no words needed.

When he finished wrapping a plastic wrap over the tattoo, Tifa peered her eyes up towards him, his eyes already watching her.

Will we be all right?

He softly shook his head.

I don't think we will be for a long time.

Her heart clenched, her gaze falling as he gathered her carefully into his lap, his hands carefully bracing her hips. She settled her hands on his shoulders, pressing her forehead against his as they sadly gazed at each other.

They would live with a lifetime of sins on their shoulders. A day might come when they might have to pay for them, and their past may catch up to impede their future.

But for tonight, they would put all of that aside to bask in each other's presence.

For a while, he held onto her, his thumb affectionately stroking slowly and softly across the small sliver of skin not covered by the wrapping. She softly smiled as she threaded her fingers into his hair, rubbing her thumbs soothingly, and found pleasure at seeing him bow his head for affection. Then he rose to his feet slowly as she wrapped her legs around his waist, careful not to press into his chest.

He carried her out of the studio and into the chilly night of Bone Village. He walked until he knelt to his knees atop of a small hill carpeted with blooming little white chrysanthemums not too far from the little wood cottage.

"What do we do now?" Tifa asked quietly, afraid to disturb the silent night and the peace that surrounded them. Cloud sighed, and he didn't reply. He broke his gaze to look up at the sea of stars. Her eyes followed the bright bridge of starlight that spanned across the sky.

"I think," he began, "it would be wrong if we didn't try to begin a new life. To keep on living. I want to try building a new life. Even if I fail, I want to try." He chuckled bitterly and then shook his head, trying to ward off whatever dark thought crossed his mind. "It's funny because I'm always failing at something. Or someone…" She tenderly cupped his face, forcing him to look at her.

"That's not funny at all," Tifa said, "trying and failing for something that you want." He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. It would be a long time for him to find that new life, but she prayed to whatever stars were listening to her heart to guide him to it.

And for her to be a part of it.

He took her hands, entwining their fingers, and drawing patterns into her palms. Or maybe writing a silent vow onto her skin.

"Will you be there, for when I finally have that new life?"

Her eyes burned as she hid her face into the crook of his shoulder. "You've always had me," she nearly cried, "We've kind of always had each other, haven't we?"

"Yeah, but now I know what that means," he said, stroking her arms and her shoulders and lightly running a finger across the plastic wrapped around her back. Ebbing away whatever darkness, whatever doubt, that threatened to coil out from her heart.

She would confront that darkness later, face her demons and one day acknowledge them. Accept them. She would fulfill the promise she made to herself and live. For there was no other way to be forgiven than to live. In her breaking and in her healing, for whatever length and time, she would be forgiven.

He peppered kisses across her shoulder, running his lips up her neck, purring as he threaded his fingers and gently pulled her hair, arching her neck to grant him more access. He pressed more kisses onto her neck as his free hand stroked her backside. Her legs tightened around his waist, and her hands roamed across his back and biceps.

She had forgotten language, but she figured she didn't need it. She still had her senses. And the world smelled so wonderful, of sweet blooming flowers, the salt of the sea, and a masculine scent tinged with earth and mint citrus. She heard faraway waves crashing, nightingales singing to the stars overhead, and a litany of her own name as Cloud chanted into her skin. She tasted new colors and sounds as her lips explored his shoulders and neck before plunging her mouth into his.

Gods, the taste of him...

She nearly sobbed at how achingly and tenderly he cared for her, digging his fingers gently into her hips and biting her lower lip. But he was teasing her, and Tifa did not appreciate being toyed with and shifted in his lap, smiling as he moaned her name. More, she wanted more.

More.

More.

More.

His. She was his, and he was hers. She never had a thought as lovely as such.

He worshipped her ear with his teeth and tongue that had her arching her back––

And hissed at the pain webbing across her back and the unpleasant friction of the plastic wrapping, protecting her freshly done tattoo from the elements of the outdoors.

And gods-damn them, he stopped and pulled away. She whined at the loss of contact.

"Easy. Your nerves are still a bit shaken from all the needle punctures that went into your skin." That look of absolute hunger in his near glowing Mako eyes. Her toes curled, and her core pounded with frustratingly delicious heat. "We should wait for you to heal a bit more."

Like hell they would.

She rolled her hips over a particularly sensitive spot, smiling as he cursed.

"Hmm, are you sure?" She rolled again, relishing how her name sounded on his lips as his brows pinched and his eyes clenched. "After all, you brought me outside onto a hill under the night sky. I'm starting to think you like making love to me outdoors at night."

He groaned a laugh, but she knew he couldn't deny it.

She pushed his shoulders, gripping the muscle, until he was on his back, smiling at his utter obedience. She stroked him over his pants, leaning down to palm his cheek with her free hand as he moaned and pleaded with her name on his lips. She pulled away long enough to strip her pants and her underwear, eyes never leaving Clouds and–

Awe. Unfiltered awe etched across his face as he stared at the naked, tattoed beauty standing over him and the stars glittering all around her.

She was his constellation, the one he followed to find home––and home had always been her. Just as he was hers. She settled over him, and they both stared at one another. And Tifa was perfectly content to just do that.

"Promise me something?" he rasped beseechingly, hands stroking her thighs and her waist.

"Anything," she said while she leaned down over him, her thick, long hair pooling around them like a curtain hiding their words from the world. But the darkness surrounding them couldn't hide everything that Cloud was offering in his eyes.

A future. His future. Their future.

One hand gripped her neck while he gently rubbed her lips and stroked her cheek. Locking her in place and locking her gaze with the most pleading eyes she'd ever seen him make.

"Stay with me."

Her mouth wobbled as she pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss that made her heart soar, her soul twinning to his. She moved down, pressing kisses over the hollow of his neck, licking his pulse point, and moved down, down, until she reached the area of his new tattoo.

Tifa tenderly kissed the skin above his promises in reverence and benediction.

On my behalf, you will live. You are the proof that I existed.

You take care of yourself.

She sealed her own promise with her kiss.

"I will be with you, always. I promise."

Author's Note:

This piece ended up being the culmination of all the themes and all the prompts for Cloti Fall Festival Week. From chrysanthemums to tradition to resilience, etc.

Inspired by Valentine Ninja's "Ink Addiction", which I read over again from time to time, and from my long, addicting hours of watching Ink Master.

Thank you, Readers, for taking the time to read the first of many stories. Reviews and comments are much appreciated.