InterfaceLeader

@interfaceleader.bsky.social

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FF7 fan since the golden OG years | Old enough | Any pronouns | Anti AI My Straw page: https://interfaceleader.straw.page/

Chapter 1: A shit show from start to end Chapter Text There was a flood light on the other side of the warehouse car park, its light starting to dim as the sky lightened. They were officially into early morning, and Reno was getting pissed off. It didn’t help that he was still dragging. Slouched miserably in the driver seat of the van, the thin polyester of his hoodie was no match for the hyper-sweats. He reeked of the peach-flavoured schnapps Mina had insisted on getting, its fruity-chemical tang seeping out his pores and making his stomach turn. Reno took a gulp of water, trying to wash away the cottonmouth, before dropping the bottle into the door. He rested one hand on the steering wheel, fingers drumming out a staccato rhythm. It was funny, really. When Sal had started pushing him into these driving jobs, he’d thought there would be more actual driving. He’d thought that maybe there would be cool cars. Hell, even a high-speed chase or two. In reality he spent all his time sitting around in shitty vans, waiting. He hadn’t missed the look of contempt in Kajtek’s eyes when he’d turned up forty minutes late. As if that smug bastard was so fucking virtuous. As if Reno gave a single solitary fuck about what that loser thought of him. As if this piece-of-shit job mattered.
Steel frying pan of vegetables, cooked ratatouille style.
A digital artwork of Barret Wallace and Cloud Strife from FF7. They are seen only as silhouettes in the warm glow of a tent. The night sky is dramatic and full of stars.
Digital artwork of Barret Wallace and Cissnei from FF7. Cissnei sits on Barret's lap, pointing into the distance. They are in a rocky, sunlit part of Gongaga.
A digital artwork of Barret Wallace and Myrna from FF7. They share a tender kiss in front of a sunset. The colours are rich yellows and red, and the sun flares over Barret's heart.
Dear Emma by InterfaceLeader Fandoms: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII General Audiences No Archive Warnings Apply Gen Summary Elena writes to Emma. Written for the Floor 62 prompt: “My debt…was to memory” (after Bernard Cooper)
Comic book style artwork. Cloud is lying on a massage table while Madame M holds his arm in a hand/arm massage. Cloud looks uncomfortable. Madame M looks confident and seductive. She says: "Oh Cloud, you poor thing... you're so tense" and then "Now stop squirming you little shit, or I'll stab you with a hair pin"
A colour digital artwork of Vincent Valentine from FF7. He is beaming a huge smile at the camera and holding his hands in a heart shape.
A black and white comic book style artwork of Vincent, Yuffie and Reeve from Dirge of Cerberus. Vincent hides a smile, Yuffie holds up a materia looking pleased with herself, while Reeve smiles at them both.
Rufus as a white tiger stalks forward, inviting Reno (not pictured) to follow him. Tseng as a raven sits on his back, looking ominous.
Digital artwork of Elena, sitting in front of a fire on a rug and looking at a diary. She holds a pen and is wearing a babydoll nightgown.
A digital artwork of Reno from FF7. He sits in a chair, one leg over the arm, holding a glass of whiskey and smoking a cigarette. The picture is in black and white, except for the light from his cigarette.
A colour digital artwork of Elena and Shotgun from Before Crisis (FF7). They are posing back-to-back. Elena is brushing a hand behind her head, and Shotgun has her ponytail in her hand. They smile at each other and for the camera.
Rufus as a white tiger stalks forward, inviting Reno (not pictured) to follow him. Tseng as a raven sits on his back, looking ominous.
All or Nothing by CreepyTouch Chapter 6: Take Content advisory: This chapter includes explicit non-consensual sex, painful anal sex and incredibly unsafe venipuncture techniques. --- Even though Rude couldn’t move, Reno could see him tumbling. Down, down, down, pupils constricting, muscles tensing and contracting; an internal fight that he couldn’t win. Reno’s breath quickened in tandem with Rude’s. Warmth snaked through him. He knew how Rude felt right now. This was bigger than a contact high. More intense.
Screenshot from AO3. Until the End of Time, by InterfaceLeader. Yuffie and Vincent reminisce. Written for the Floor 62 Weekly Prompt Challenge: "I remember once, in..."
Reno felt his own breath quicken. Warmth snaked through him, as if he had shot himself up. He *knew* how Rude felt right now, knew it at a cellular level. This was bigger than a contact high. More intense. Reno leaned forward, over Rude’s body, hands pressed into the bed. It was like watching a diamond shatter. All that self-restraint, all that control, falling to pieces. Rude left gasping, skin damp with sweat, eyes wide and astonished. “Gets right into your fucking soul, don’t it? Makes you feel like, whatever happens, it don’t matter. Nothing matters. You’re safe and you’re happy and nothing can touch ya.” Reno put his hand on Rude’s arm, felt the way the muscles had relaxed. “At least, not until you come down.”
Comic of Remake Rude, Remake Reno and OG Reno. ReRe: WAIT I didn't say NO--
Remake Reno and Rude are speechless. ReRe: ... Rude: ... OGR: Okay good talk.
Comic of Remake Reno and OG Reno arguing, while Rude watches and drinks coffee. ReRe: If we weren't so fucking hot I would break your fucking face, asshole. OGR: How about I just break your asshole?
Comic of Remake Reno and OG Reno arguing, whilst Rude enters stage left. OGR: Oh yeah? You sure you don't wanna bounce around talking shit for an hour first, twinkle toes? ReRe: Fuckin--Rude, can I kill this fucking guy? Rude: For multiverse reasons ... no. OGR: /You/ take orders from /Rude/? That's /adorable/.
Comic of Remake Reno and OG Reno arguing. OGR: So like is your /entire/ personality being an obnoxious slut orrrr ... ? ReRe: Hey /fuck you/, hobo. OGR: I mean I guess it sucks that Shinra's so broke you could only afford half a uniform-- ReRe: A least I can afford a /washing machine/ and a /shower/-- OGR: Oh yeah? You exfoliate in there, princess? ReRe: I will exfoliate that smirk right off your face, fucker!
“Still alive?” Rude came into the tank. He was carrying a plastic bag. “Yeah, I’m doin’ great,” Reno said. “Never better, yo.” “Hmm.” Rude adjusted his sunglasses as he looked Reno over. “I brought you some things.” He dropped the bag in front of Reno. Reno pulled it towards him. It contained a pack of wet wipes, mouthwash, breath mints, deodorant, and— “Oh thank fuck, you brought me a hairbrush.” “And detangler.” Rude considered him. “You’ve got the shakes. She said they’re fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Shift forward.” Reno scooted forward enough for Rude to get behind him and sit on the tree. He sighed as Rude started working on his hair. Patiently separating it into sections, using his fingers to gently loosen the knots. “Hey Rude,” Reno mumbled. “Mmm?” “Do you think I’m fucked up?” “Extremely.” Rude sprayed a length of hair, started brushing it out from the bottom. “Oh. But in like, an awesome way, right?” “Sure.” Rude chuckled. “You’re extremely fucked up in an awesome way.” “’S what I thought.” After a while, with Rude gently running the brush through his hair, Reno stopped trembling. His muscles relaxed. His eyelids grew heavy. He was drowsing, with his head on Rude’s thigh, when Dr Raleigh’s voice sounded over the intercom. “That’s your fifteen minutes. Rude, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to clear the tank. We need to prep him for surgery.”
“If I was gonna do this, what would I need to do?” “There’s a control room overlooking the ground floor.” Tseng’s boss said. “You can get to it from a ladder from the ground floor, or by descending the stairwell from the first floor. Either way, you’ll end up on the walkway that leads straight to it. Once you’re inside you’ll see a control panel on the left with a red button. Push it, and it will ask for an authorisation code. The code is 142128. Got that? 142—” “I got it,” Reno snapped. “Good luck, kid.” “And thank you,” Tseng said. He sounded sincere. “Whatever.” Reno hung up and dropped the phone on the floor of the duct. With a little luck, maybe he’d be able to reclaim it later, but right now it was of no help. He inched his way along the duct, towards the screen he had removed earlier. It was likely the Wutai soldiers had found it and were waiting outside. Maybe with the Vajradhara. But they wouldn’t know he was coming. He would surprise them, make a dash for it. He was fast. Faster than them. Probably. He was sweating through his hoodie. His heart hammered in his ears. A square of light in front of him, illuminating the sleek metal walls. He could do this. With a little luck, he could do it. He never liked to trust in luck. With a snarl, Reno set his hands onto the walls and launched himself through the square of light.
All or Nothing | CreepyTouch Chapter 5: Crave Reno took his time stripping Rude. He removed each article of clothing slowly, revealing Rude's body inch by inch. Inspecting him. Committing him to memory.
This was just a thing Rude did. Reno wasn’t special, he was convenient. Reno looked over at Rude, stretched out on the bed. Peaceful. Breath slow and even. Rude had never been out of control in his life. He’d never had desperation flood him. He’d never had that terror, the sense of being sucked under, the frantic struggle, the hopelessness. He’d never felt the lurching disorientation of your body betraying you. He’d never fought against the noise, the terrible cacophony of your own furious frightened self. He’d never hurt himself because it was the only way to shut yourself up. His body wasn’t a war zone, he’d never lost, he’d never cried, curled up in the dark, bleeding and broken on the inside, *no no no too much too much too much*. Because some fights were unwinnable, some problems were unsolvable, and some people were a lost fucking cause. The craving caught him off guard. Sudden, urgent, undeniable. Reno dropped the photographs back in the drawer and slammed it shut. *Just one hit*. He rubbed the cuff of his shirt against the skin of his wrist. It smelled like vomit. *He* smelled like vomit. *You’re disgusting. Just one hit.* His jacket and trousers were on the floor near the bed. Just one. Reno picked them up. He should shower before he put them back on. You need a hit. He stared at the dark fabric, the Turk suit he’d let Rude take off him. *Just one just one just one*. He hooked his phone out of the pocket and opened the contacts. *Just one moment where everything feels right.*
Rembrandt etching, descent from the cross
page from a notebook showing where to give a dorsogluteal injection
Digital artwork of Vincent and Veld. The touch each other with their prosthetic hands, astonished by the changes the years have wrought. The background is wisteria blossom.
A digital artwork of Rude the Turk from Final Fantasy 7. He drinks from a cup of coffee. He looks strong.
Comic book style panel featuring Remake Reno and OG Reno from FF7. They are arguing. The speech bubbles read: OGR: So like is your /entire/ personality being an obnoxious slut orrrr ... ? ReRe: Hey /fuck you/, hobo. OGR: I mean I guess it sucks that Shinra's so broke you could only afford half a uniform-- ReRe: A least I can afford a /washing machine/ and a /shower/-- OGR: Oh yeah? You exfoliate in there, princess? ReRe: I will exfoliate that smirk right off your face, fucker!
Straw page drawing of a radiating heart.
“What the fuck?” Bear’s voice. Loud. Angry. “What the hell happened?” Reno opened his eyes. He was curled up on the floor of the Tank. His arm was numb, he’d fallen asleep with it trapped under him. His head hurt, and his chest ached. He pushed himself up to a sitting position. Bear and Doughnut had come through the doorway. Doughnut was looking around with a bewildered expression. “Are you okay, Red?” Bear looked furious. “Who the fuck did this? Is anything missing?” “Uh…” Bear looked around again, his frown deepening. Reno followed his gaze. Liquid was dripping down the side of the pool table. The floor was littered with broken glass, bits of metal, and cereal. Light cut through the hole in the wall. By some quirk of luck, it illuminated Reno’s area. His stuff was noticeably untouched. “Where am I meant to sleep?” Doughnut was looking at his mattress, leaking springs and stuffing. “You’re sweating.” Bear’s voice was icy. Reno dragged his arm across his face. Hyper-sweats. An inevitable part of the comedown, alleviated only by another hyper. “I gotta go to work.” He jumped to his feet. “Are you outta your mind?” Bear stormed towards him. Reno stepped backwards, heard something crunch under his boot. “I’ve put up with a lot from you, Red, but this is taking the piss.”
Still You Listen For Her Song by InterfaceLeader Fandoms: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, On The Way To A Smile: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake and Rebirth (Video Games 2020-2024) Teen And Up Audiences No Archive Warnings Apply F/M Complete Work No Archive Warnings ApplyCissnei & Reno (Compilation of FFVII) Cissnei/Barret WallaceCissnei (Compilation of FFVII) Reno (Compilation of FFVII) Barret WallaceCissnei POV Self-Discovery divided loyalty Character Study Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD not angst not fluff but a secret third thing no gen ai Summary “I don’t know how to be, I don’t know how to settle. Always listenin’ for the sound of gunshots. Shinra’s gone out there in the world, but…” he tapped his head. “They’re still in here, where I can’t fight ‘em.” Written for FF7 Turk Week 2026: Day 1. Contingency Plan Cissnei is trying to figure out who she is, Reno asks her for a favour, and Barret comes to town.
Straw image: drawing of Reno in a shirt that says "I am Renough". A speech bubble says "Fave most obscure Reno HC"). It is amazing.
She still had a few minutes before the agreed upon time, but she pulled her radio from her backpack anyway and turned it on. She swung her legs back and forth while she waited. She could see most of the jungle from up here; it curled across the landscape and eddied up into the ruins of the reactor that dominated the horizon. Even after all these years, she was still amazed at how loud it was; the buzz of insects, the cries of birds, the occasional deep roar of a grandhorn. When her watch hit noon, she thumbed the talk button. “This is Shuriken reporting in. Over.” She flipped the receive button and waited. She couldn’t deny that she missed cell phones. But most of the cell towers were gone, and reception was spotty at best. The WRO were meant to be working on it, but then, they were meant to be working on a lot of things. The radio repeaters were old, from before Shinra, from when the Turks had been an independent outfit. They should have been left to fall into ruin, like everything else that pre-dated mako. But Veld had his disaster scenarios, and his contingency plans for each of them. The repeaters had ended up coming into their own, despite the drawbacks. He had never planned for his daughter to turn up alive. There had been no contingency plan for that. Turks were not prone to optimism. “Yo Ciss, how’s it going? Over.” She smiled despite herself. Even through the static his drawl was unmistakable. “Oh, you know. Enjoying the country lifestyle, gathering mushrooms, hunting down stray chickens. That kind of thing. How’s things with you? Over.” “Yeah, fine, been learnin’ all about concrete. Ya think you’ve seen it all, then bam, you’re doin’ construction. Listen, I got a favour to ask. Over.”
The bass vibrated through the crowd like a shared heartbeat. Everyone was dancing, Mina raw-boned and wild, tossing her hair back and laughing, all her teeth on display. Colette with her hands in the air, her eyes closed. She had gone entirely into the music. Mina pressed something into his hand. A familiar shape, smooth plastic casing warm from Mina’s skin. He didn’t even think about it, just put it against his arm and felt the quick prick. Let the empty vial drop to the floor. The lights flashed, bathing everyone in purple, blue, red. The day receded, washed away by the ocean of neon and fog and music. Everything here was simple. Easy. The blood on his hands, the smell of burned flesh, blackmail photographs, regrets and bitterness, all of it—melted away. Nothing mattered here. Maybe nothing mattered anywhere.
Sketch of two women on a motorbike, Tifa is partially detailed.
mindflayer, zappy play, lingerie, and most importantly… RENO BEING HUMILIATED IN FRONT OF A VENGEFUL CROWD?????? thank you. and corneo getting revenge for that da chao move lmfaooo i love to see it, our love language really is just shoving Reno in the worst situations ever isn’t it?
Halloumi, yoghurt, veg on couscous
A digital artwork of Lucrecia and Vincent Valentine from FF7. They are in the Shinra basement. Lucrecia is pregnant, and holds up a vial of glowing green liquid. Vincent is crouched over at her feet. There is a hyacinth in a pot in the foreground.
Digital artwork of Vincent Valentine and Veld from FF7. They stand in front of an arch of purple wisteria. They touch each other with their prosthetic arms, trying to take in the changes of many years.
But Rude? Rude was unflappable. Untouchable. Even when everything was on fire, the target had given them the slip, and they had lost an entire squadron of Shinra soldiers with nothing to show for it. He would adjust his glasses, issue a single order, and get the situation back on track. It pissed Reno off. Who did he think he was kidding? It was all an act. Of that Reno was certain, and it wasn’t just because he’d watched Rude lose it over Reno eating some fucking pizza. All Turks were proficient with a range of weapons, but most of them had a favourite. Something that complemented their specialist skills. Tseng with his gun, Cissnei with her shuriken, Jett with his slingshot, Balto with his katana, Isla with her bayonet. Rude was the only one who liked to beat his opponents to death with his bare hands. Or gloved hands. Whatever. The point was, it was both brutal and intimate.
InterfaceLeader dressed in purple with pink shoes and a happy smile (she's giving Twilight Sparkle)
“What’s the dot mean?” Tseng stirred his coffee. “I could ask the same question about your tattoos. They don’t match any gang sigil I’m aware of.” “You know ‘bout earning your red wings? I got ‘em to commemorate the day.” “That’s… about what I should have expected.” “So why the dot?” “It gives me second sight,” Tseng said, impassively. “The ability to see the future comes in handy in this job.” Reno stared at him. He looked completely serious. Was it true? It couldn’t be. Except there were all sorts of crazy rumours about what Shinra got up to... The corner of Tseng’s mouth twitched. “You’re bullshittin’ me!” “Well, I would hate for you to think you had the monopoly on bullshit.” Tseng lifted his coffee. “It’s fortunate we ran into each other. We’re overdue an in-person meeting.”
Re-draw of the official art of Reno from FF7. It's been done in a sketchy black & white style.
There was a silence when he’d finished. Reno waited, shifting from foot to foot as the silence stretched out. He snuck a glance at Tseng. The Turk was watching him. He looked back at the ground. “Try again,” Tseng said. Reno sighed, and fished the materia out of his hoody. “Addie gave it to me,” he said, holding it out. “Hmm.” Tseng took it from him and held it up to the light. “Interesting. Do you know how much this is worth?” “I dunno,” Reno said. Materia were contraband, but they weren’t that rare. “Maybe, like, a grand?” “This is a fully mastered lightning materia,” Tseng said, “It could fetch somewhere between 40 and 45,000 gil on the black market. And you say that Pechman gave this to you?” Reno opened his mouth and then closed it. Forty grand? He felt dizzy. What could you even do with that kind of money? He had a sudden vivid memory of his Dad, dancing around the room they shared. I knew our luck would turn! We’re rich, kiddo, rich! C’mon, let’s go give that old bag her money—then I’ll take you out to celebrate! You watch, we’re gonna ride this hot streak all the way topside! “… It’s more like I borrowed it,” he said. “Start your report over,” Tseng said. “And this time, don’t leave anything out.”
Woman sitting with her head on her knees
Sketch of man's profile
He also found his attention drifting over to Rude more often. They didn’t overlap a lot—Rude was a senior Turk and constantly being pulled into meetings and missions. But, when he was in the office, he worked silently at his computer on projects that looked as if they were incredibly boring. He didn’t talk to Reno much, but then, as Reno quickly learned, he didn’t talk to anyone much. In fact, there was an air of mystery that surrounded the man. He revealed so little about himself that rumours ran rampant. There was the rumour that he had fled Costa after killing the mayor’s aide in a sudden inexplicable rage. The rumour that he was actually a billionaire slumming as a Turk for shits and giggles. The rumour that his entire body below the suit was covered in obscene tattoos. The rumour that he moonlighted as a pyrotechnic. The rumour that he had 33 piercings in his dick. The rumour that he was one of the President’s illegitimate kids and shaved his head because he was actually blonde.
He had been sincere when he said he wasn’t interested in hooking up with Rude though. That would get real messy real quickly, and Reno was trying his damnedest to be less of a mess.
A very in-progress WIP. Two people on a balcony overlooking a city scape. There is a reactor in the distance