All These Things That I've Done - Sephiroth/Cloud - NC-17
Title: All These Things That I’ve Done
Author: Ann V.
Pairing: SephirothXCloud, or maybe CloudXSephiroth. I HAVE NO IDEA ANYMORE
Words: 1,187
Disclaimer: Oh Square, where would I be without you Square. Oh, that’s right. Sleeping. Anyways, Cloud, Sephiroth, and Tifa all belong to Square. Just like Final Fantasy VII, Before Crisis, and Advent Children. Some of the things Sephiroth says are from The Killer’s “All These Things That I’ve Done” and so is the title. Other things are from WH Auden poetry and Advent Children and my own sick mind. (and probably other things, I’m such a plagiarist)
Sex disclaimer: You guys are gonna be so disappointed. I’m really sorry. I’ll try harder when it’s not CLOUD STRYFE.
After a lot of time passed and no one thought of it anymore, except for a few people and a different colored ribbon that no one understood, and really no one had seen it. Really, no one understood how he felt.
Not that he didn’t feel loved. Not that everything wasn’t more perfect than it had ever been. It was just…
So he still rode sometimes, and this time he’d run out of gas. So he started walking, which was really just stupid. He did it anyways. He walked and walked and God had he forgotten how hot it really could get. Just because Midgar was so grey and overcast, but out here. No, out here the sky was naturally scorched and naturally out to sear his pretty peach skin and fry his fair-haired scalp off.
He fell to his knees, totally overwhelmed by the heat. How long had he been walking anyway?
Someone kicked dust in his face, as he shielded it. He looked up. He saw boots. Long, laced up boots. Only slightly dusted with red soil, they were such a shining black.
It could be anyone, he told himself, but something in his stomach ran cold. It wasn’t even a comfort from the heat.
“There’s no where else to run.” A deep voice told him. It was like he was being touched, molested by words. He scrambled up, squinting against the sun the way it caught and reflected.
Tight pants tucked into perfect boots. Nothing else. Perfect, beyond pale exposed to the merciless sun. But he was so icy cold that he didn’t even sweat. He smiled in that sick self-satisfied way that he’d always had. Before it had been cocky, in control… attractive. Now it made his nostrils flare and he thought of spilt blood and destruction.
Whose blood was never clear. Whose destruction was even less clear.
“You are going to destroy yourself doing this.” He said. “You’re not as strong as you think.”
“Damn you.” He said, he took a fighting stance.
“Stop that.” He was told. “It’s pointless.” A hand was on him before he even saw an arm move. It was cold as ice, cold as all the corpses he’d ever held, cold as the Northern Crater, cold as the man who held him. Yes, it only made sense.
But it still bothered him.
“You are not a SOLDIER anymore. Are you, Cloud?” The voice drawled his name out, extending every syllable. “Don’t fight the war.”
Then he was enveloped in the cold. It touched his bare arm, reached up his shirt and caressed his over-heated back. He shuddered with disgust, but it seemed like a shiver. He felt a retch caught in his throat, but it twisted into a moan by the time it came out.
Had he forgotten how tall He was? How could he? Looking up to him for all those years. But lately, they had been equals. No, no, he had twice bested him. Twice he was the greater man.
But greatest didn’t offer him any additional height. He was totally swallowed up. He groaned and his face went flushed, but he didn’t think it was embarrassment and it couldn’t have been the heat anymore. He wrapped his arms around, fingers like claws to push him away, but they just went scratching up his back making Him moan.
Right into Cloud’s ear. He thought his legs might be buckling, and that was his logic for grabbing big fistfuls of oh Gaia so soft hair and pulling them steady, but gently. Until His head was bowed back, that long pale neck exposed like it was nothing. Like it meant nothing to just bare his neck to anyone.
He laughed. And then He stuck his (cold, long, cold) hand down the front of Cloud’s pants. He would have jumped, up, away, in shock, but it would have castrated him. And it felt so good.
Oh no. No. No. No. No. No.
“Stop.” He couldn’t help but bite his lower lip. “Stop this.”
“When everyone is lost.” He said. “The battle is won.” He whispered it to the sky, his head still pulled back by Cloud’s grip in his hair.
“What?” Cloud starred at him. Then He did something. Cloud felt himself flushing with anger.
Only… not.
“Nothing now can ever come to any good.” He said. And Cloud was untwisting his fingers from His hair and pulling His pants down without any regard for how tight they must be, how much that must hurt, pulling the tight waist and the crisp seems over the softest, softest skin.
He didn’t care. And errant thought flickered in Cloud’s head. He wanted to smile, grin until his lips split. He was so fucking self-satisfied.
“Get on your knees.” He said. “I want to see you beg for mercy.”
“No.” That deep voice said. He was stunned, totally stunned.
And then He looked at him, those utterly distinctive eyes. For all he had tried in the past he’d never had eyes like that. The clones, the memories, the whatever, even they didn’t have eyes like that. Obviously they had to have looked like that before… Before everything. This is how He had always been, Cloud couldn’t imagine Him any other way.
“You don’t have any mercy.” He cooed. “Not any worth begging for.” And then He kissed him. He hadn’t thought about that in years, had maybe forgotten that he’d ever thought about it. Other memories, more painful, more constant had washed that part of their… his… something. It was definitely something. And that part, this part had been totally washed away with blood.
Then He dropped to his knees anyways, somehow totally naked all that white, white skin being stained with red dust. He couldn’t even feel that soft hair against his stomach, nothing. No real intimacy, just sexual gratification. Some play on Christian prayer. Some cheap rip-off of actually begging, or actually caring. He couldn’t even look directly at what was happening, too much light reflected up into his eyes like a corona of holy light.
But it felt good and watching Him with His spine curved till the little bones stuck out just to do this. Yeah, that felt good.
Suddenly, deliriously intoxicated with power like he’d been before. He was totally fucking terrified and it was such a fucking rush.
“Oh-“ But Cloud caught himself before he said that name.
Then He pulled away, some pearly liquid on his lips. Cloud felt totally unsatistfied. He was angry and betrayed, it was a normal feeling.
“This has not even begun.” He said. “Hold on.”
And then Cloud woke up. There was no desert. There was no motorcycle out of fuel. And no… No nothing. He shut his eyes, tried to will himself back. It didn’t work. Tifa woke up beside him, confused by his sudden awakeness. She looked at him, a soft smile on her lips.
He was so hard and she was so there and it just made sense. It made a lot more sense than most of the things in his life. Especially right now.
Author: Ann V.
Pairing: SephirothXCloud, or maybe CloudXSephiroth. I HAVE NO IDEA ANYMORE
Words: 1,187
Disclaimer: Oh Square, where would I be without you Square. Oh, that’s right. Sleeping. Anyways, Cloud, Sephiroth, and Tifa all belong to Square. Just like Final Fantasy VII, Before Crisis, and Advent Children. Some of the things Sephiroth says are from The Killer’s “All These Things That I’ve Done” and so is the title. Other things are from WH Auden poetry and Advent Children and my own sick mind. (and probably other things, I’m such a plagiarist)
Sex disclaimer: You guys are gonna be so disappointed. I’m really sorry. I’ll try harder when it’s not CLOUD STRYFE.
After a lot of time passed and no one thought of it anymore, except for a few people and a different colored ribbon that no one understood, and really no one had seen it. Really, no one understood how he felt.
Not that he didn’t feel loved. Not that everything wasn’t more perfect than it had ever been. It was just…
So he still rode sometimes, and this time he’d run out of gas. So he started walking, which was really just stupid. He did it anyways. He walked and walked and God had he forgotten how hot it really could get. Just because Midgar was so grey and overcast, but out here. No, out here the sky was naturally scorched and naturally out to sear his pretty peach skin and fry his fair-haired scalp off.
He fell to his knees, totally overwhelmed by the heat. How long had he been walking anyway?
Someone kicked dust in his face, as he shielded it. He looked up. He saw boots. Long, laced up boots. Only slightly dusted with red soil, they were such a shining black.
It could be anyone, he told himself, but something in his stomach ran cold. It wasn’t even a comfort from the heat.
“There’s no where else to run.” A deep voice told him. It was like he was being touched, molested by words. He scrambled up, squinting against the sun the way it caught and reflected.
Tight pants tucked into perfect boots. Nothing else. Perfect, beyond pale exposed to the merciless sun. But he was so icy cold that he didn’t even sweat. He smiled in that sick self-satisfied way that he’d always had. Before it had been cocky, in control… attractive. Now it made his nostrils flare and he thought of spilt blood and destruction.
Whose blood was never clear. Whose destruction was even less clear.
“You are going to destroy yourself doing this.” He said. “You’re not as strong as you think.”
“Damn you.” He said, he took a fighting stance.
“Stop that.” He was told. “It’s pointless.” A hand was on him before he even saw an arm move. It was cold as ice, cold as all the corpses he’d ever held, cold as the Northern Crater, cold as the man who held him. Yes, it only made sense.
But it still bothered him.
“You are not a SOLDIER anymore. Are you, Cloud?” The voice drawled his name out, extending every syllable. “Don’t fight the war.”
Then he was enveloped in the cold. It touched his bare arm, reached up his shirt and caressed his over-heated back. He shuddered with disgust, but it seemed like a shiver. He felt a retch caught in his throat, but it twisted into a moan by the time it came out.
Had he forgotten how tall He was? How could he? Looking up to him for all those years. But lately, they had been equals. No, no, he had twice bested him. Twice he was the greater man.
But greatest didn’t offer him any additional height. He was totally swallowed up. He groaned and his face went flushed, but he didn’t think it was embarrassment and it couldn’t have been the heat anymore. He wrapped his arms around, fingers like claws to push him away, but they just went scratching up his back making Him moan.
Right into Cloud’s ear. He thought his legs might be buckling, and that was his logic for grabbing big fistfuls of oh Gaia so soft hair and pulling them steady, but gently. Until His head was bowed back, that long pale neck exposed like it was nothing. Like it meant nothing to just bare his neck to anyone.
He laughed. And then He stuck his (cold, long, cold) hand down the front of Cloud’s pants. He would have jumped, up, away, in shock, but it would have castrated him. And it felt so good.
Oh no. No. No. No. No. No.
“Stop.” He couldn’t help but bite his lower lip. “Stop this.”
“When everyone is lost.” He said. “The battle is won.” He whispered it to the sky, his head still pulled back by Cloud’s grip in his hair.
“What?” Cloud starred at him. Then He did something. Cloud felt himself flushing with anger.
Only… not.
“Nothing now can ever come to any good.” He said. And Cloud was untwisting his fingers from His hair and pulling His pants down without any regard for how tight they must be, how much that must hurt, pulling the tight waist and the crisp seems over the softest, softest skin.
He didn’t care. And errant thought flickered in Cloud’s head. He wanted to smile, grin until his lips split. He was so fucking self-satisfied.
“Get on your knees.” He said. “I want to see you beg for mercy.”
“No.” That deep voice said. He was stunned, totally stunned.
And then He looked at him, those utterly distinctive eyes. For all he had tried in the past he’d never had eyes like that. The clones, the memories, the whatever, even they didn’t have eyes like that. Obviously they had to have looked like that before… Before everything. This is how He had always been, Cloud couldn’t imagine Him any other way.
“You don’t have any mercy.” He cooed. “Not any worth begging for.” And then He kissed him. He hadn’t thought about that in years, had maybe forgotten that he’d ever thought about it. Other memories, more painful, more constant had washed that part of their… his… something. It was definitely something. And that part, this part had been totally washed away with blood.
Then He dropped to his knees anyways, somehow totally naked all that white, white skin being stained with red dust. He couldn’t even feel that soft hair against his stomach, nothing. No real intimacy, just sexual gratification. Some play on Christian prayer. Some cheap rip-off of actually begging, or actually caring. He couldn’t even look directly at what was happening, too much light reflected up into his eyes like a corona of holy light.
But it felt good and watching Him with His spine curved till the little bones stuck out just to do this. Yeah, that felt good.
Suddenly, deliriously intoxicated with power like he’d been before. He was totally fucking terrified and it was such a fucking rush.
“Oh-“ But Cloud caught himself before he said that name.
Then He pulled away, some pearly liquid on his lips. Cloud felt totally unsatistfied. He was angry and betrayed, it was a normal feeling.
“This has not even begun.” He said. “Hold on.”
And then Cloud woke up. There was no desert. There was no motorcycle out of fuel. And no… No nothing. He shut his eyes, tried to will himself back. It didn’t work. Tifa woke up beside him, confused by his sudden awakeness. She looked at him, a soft smile on her lips.
He was so hard and she was so there and it just made sense. It made a lot more sense than most of the things in his life. Especially right now.