[Fanfiction] 'The Eye of the Storm'
LJ Edit: Formatted for Deviant Art. All user names given are for DA, unless otherwise noted.
Fandom: Final Fantasy 7
Title: 'The Eye of the Storm'
Author/Artist: Lynn Stardragon (Happy Dragon)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Sephiroth x Cloud.
Rating: NC-17... So NC-17 . . .
Warnings: Puppet!Cloud. . . . and Sephiroth likes his toys. . . . MIND HAXXZ AHOY!
Summary: It’s the final fight against Sephiroth, and everyone is by Cloud’s side. Even Aeirth. There’s nothing wrong with that picture . . . right?
Key:
“Talking aloud.”
Major P.O.V./Scene Change: * * * *
A/N: My notes/comments/ramblings
Story Start/End: ------
A/N: My half of a trade: Pr0nZ for art.
That said, I’m miffed that my PS2 can no longer read PS1 games. Angst! Rage! Unhappiness! So I’m basically taking artistic license with what, exactly, everyone’s weapons look like, since I can’t access my FF VII file, and any in-game descriptions are buried under more relevant data in the online walkthroughs (like names, stats, locations, and number of Materia slots and if they are linked or not).
Also, having played through FF7: Crisis Core, and FF7: Dirge of Cerberus, I’m taking massive artistic license with Cait Sith. Why? Because he was near useless originally, even if Reeve was awesome himself. Because his sneaking around missions in DoC make perfect sense for a mini-game that never happened in FF7. But mostly because his limit-break in Crisis Core was so fucking awesome I’m calling haxxz and saying he can buff the party like mage/priest/druid/whatever else can cast buffs on other players in WoW (World of WarCraft Online). Honestly, Curage Boost was like one of my favorites, right with Lucky Star, Healing wave, that Moogle one where all your Materia leveled, and Phenix--though you got that closer to the end game, to replace the nice potion lady with her free Phenix Downs.
Still, he’s gonna rock with Enemy skill Materia in this, if needed.
I apologize to all FF VII purists, but I’m using updated/more recent versions of Materia names (e.g.: Thunder vs. Lightning/Bolt), and calling her Aerith not Aeris.
Lastly, all ‘mistakes’ are there for a reason.
Rating: NC-17.
|Spoilers|: Only if you haven’t played FF VII before.
|Description|: Where Sephiroth goes, Cloud follows. Or is that the other way around?
|Warning|: Two hot, sweaty, beautiful men going at it like rabbits in heat. Swearing--because it happens. Non-Con/Dub-Con, depending on how you like your Cloud mind-fuckery (including consensual for you really twisted souls out there. XD). Mild to massive violence. Allusion to the inevitable sad things in FF VII. Oh, and mind games, because Sephiroth loves to break his puppet.
Beta'd by:
Criticism: Make a point, or Sephiroth might get all stabby on you. And Genesis will show you the real definition of ‘flame’. Constructive criticism will be acknowledged by Angeal, and forwarded to me.
Disclaimer: I do not own FF VII, or Kingdom Hearts, nor any of the settings or characters pertaining to those franchises. This fiction gets me no money, munny, or gil; it’s a labor of love that is its own reward.
Summary: Cloud thought AVALANCHE was ready to take on Sephiroth. Sephiroth showed him the truth.
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‘The Eye of the Storm’
Cloud was sent sprawling onto his back, Yoshiyuki spinning away from him due to the force of blocking Masamune. He blinked, not quite remembering what Materia, if any, he had slotted into the great-blade for a moment (probably no curative ones that could mitigate his throbbing temples) before Red XIII--Nanaki, was tossed aside just as carelessly, bestial body twisting his feet under him at the last second to rebound off a glowing tree. Somewhere to Cloud’s right Vincent was taking his shots from shadowy vantage-points in the crevices of volcanic rocks, only almost hitting every time by virtue of the ex-General’s inhuman speed. Berret cursed, fired off his Rocket Punch, and made a spectacular distraction of himself as Yuffie struck out with her Razor Wing-Ring-thing, Thunder charging through the weapon. Cid and Tiffa made for a pincer attack, but Sephiroth just suddenly wasn’t where he had been. He did that far too often for the blond’s taste, and hefting himself up, his blue eyes wandered over to the magic inclined duo. Still safe, with Aerith using her unlimited energy to heal wounds before blood spilled from them with Curaga, and Cait Sith making liberal use of his newest Limit Break, causing golden cloudbursts to fill his vision for a moment, before a trailing warmth took their place.
That had been strange, the first time he had suffered the effects of Courage Boost. Cait Sith had been a bouncing ball of energy, circling around him as he hopped, and ended by clapping his hands right at the end of his nose. Cloud had been seeing stars, and feeling all the ill effects of battle leaving him, right before all the monster attacks and spells started to bounce off of his skin and the Barrier and Magic Barrier he didn’t remember casting. [1] Thankfully the feline had learned how to spread the effects to the entire fighting force, and in such a way that didn’t get him underfoot. This consisted of the aforementioned golden clouds of energy than cracked like thunderheads above the battle area before dissipating to infuse all of AVALANCHE with that same warm energy trying to clear Cloud’s head.
Key word ‘trying’.
The ex-SOLDIER rubbed at his eyes and got an idea of where his sword flew off to. He made a beeline for it, right before Vincent fired off a Blizzara bullet over his head. The silver haired demon snarled, and from the sound of cracking ice it had encased the lower half of his famed blade. From the sound of Yuffie’s whoops, Berret’s hollering, and Cid’s yelled swears, half their group had just pounced on the opportunity provided.
How had they gotten here again? The wiry youth ducked into a forward roll, and scooped up the handle of his oversized sword. Looking over he saw the lingering protection of Courage Boost made the difference between Tiffa landing a kick or landing on her ass on the far side of the Ancient City. The cat-bot was trying his hands at L4 Suicide, and that seemed to stun the crazed man long enough for Nanaki to howl out Cosmo Memory.
If Cloud stopped to think about things, the events at the Temple of the Ancients were the last things he clearly remembered. Reeve sacrificed his stand-in--first stand-in, for the ‘fortune telling machine’ with them now was the spare body, which lead to the question of how much of a sacrifice was the loss of the toy to the Shin-Ra executive turned spy turned . . . whatever he was now. Did Shin-Ra fund him the money for the robots? Did Reeve pay out of pocket? The company wasn’t one for toy manufacturing, and yet for such a complex machine, did that mean the man had nothing and no one else to spend his gil on? And he had let one of them go without a second thought to help save Gaia by keeping the Black Materia away from Sephiroth.
Cloud had failed them all, given it away to the feeling of puppet strings winding round his core and tugging his arms up in supplication as his mind and soul raged uselessly against his body. And the ex-General had smiled down on him, a mad godling accepting a sacrifice upon his temple alter.
Kinda like the way he was now. That couldn’t have been good.
Yoshiyuki was up again before Cloud was even thinking about which defensive stance to use. Feral green eyes burned into his sky-blue ones, and the deranged man muscled him back and away through a puddle and almost over a hidden cliff. The blond dug his heels in, pushing back at the edge, toned muscles taunt and sinews straining in his lithe body. The Terror of Wutai, however, had height and training on him, and his corded muscles coiled under his black leather ensemble to whip the short warrior over the edge. Cloud watched the waterfall of silver hair flow over the side of the cliff, before the fiend turned away and back to face the rest of his friends.
Sluggish reflexes made him drive his long sword into the wall of the blackened volcanic shale, carving a track all the way down, and slowing his decent as he clung to the hilt. Gravity brought him to a lower level of the city, where the road led off into twisting paths, none of them going directly back from whence he came. So Cloud extracted his sword, dust and pebbles spraying over his blue uniform, and crunching under his brown leather boots as he turned to run down the path he was on, hoping to take a connection back to the fight. He looked up into the perpetually overcast sky, annoyed that he had no stars or other markers to navigate by.
His feet pounded down unpaved gravel, echoing in the vast space of the dead city. He cut through buildings, urged on by the sounds of his friends being distorted by distance. If there were monsters here, they were frightened off by the silver demon’s presence. Well that, and the staccato beat being played out by Berret using his Ungarmax attack. If it wasn’t already, the city was going to be in ruins by the time they were all done. Still, Cloud ran, downwards it seemed, always downward, which was getting disconcerting since he needed to get back ‘up’ to the fight. Considering they had stocked up before this battle, and Aerith wasn’t the only person capable of using the Cure series Materia and Phenix Downs (Vincent had a Mastered Revive [3] on him, as his transformations tended to heal him back from the brink of death, and his guns kept him out of the reach of most critters), AVALANCHE could hold their own until he rejoined them.
The path branched, and he took the fork that climbed.
How did they get here? How did he get into this mess? Separated from his friends as they fought against Gaia’s greatest enemy! Everything had been going well before, or actually, everything hadn’t been going well before but. . .
Cloud slowed, slid to a stop, and took a moment to breathe, forcing his thoughts to order themselves.
He’d handed over the Black Materia and . . . Aerith had realized how to stop Sephiroth. She had made it sound so hauntingly clear to him, all she needed to do was get to the Ancient City of the Cetra. She was the one to lead the way, because normal humans like them would get lost in the forest. He felt like he might have gotten lost a few times, but everyone was here now so that feeling didn’t matter. They were here . . but. . . somehow Sephiroth was here too. . .
No, Cloud told himself as he started to run again, that did make sense because this was the logical place for him to go if there was something that could stop him here. And Sephiroth was not a normal human, had power above and beyond the half-Cetra in their group, so finding an alternate way in was to be expected of him. Sephiroth was preventing them--preventing Aerith from getting to where she needed to be to . . . . Pray. . . pray for Holy. She had said if she could talk to the planet then Gaia would . . .
Actually she never said what the planet would do. Odd. Or was it just they had to try everything? They did, really, this was the infernal shell of the man who had single-handedly conquered Wutai for Shin-Ra. So she would pray, they all would, that Gaia liked Sephiroth and Meteor less than it did the humans bleeding her dry.
He hated it when parts of Sephiroth’s rhetoric made a twisted kind of sense. It usually preceded the floor going out from under him.
And that’s why they had prepared, he remembered. The stops along the way to pick up potions and elixirs, and ammo, and armor and Materia and inspect weapons. Everything . . .
The weapons in the temple were powerful, but didn’t allow for the use of Materia, save for Aerith’s Princess Guard. Power in exchange for knowledge--magic use. Needless to say, Berret was only too happy to start wearing the big red robotic hand. And the Adaman Bangle Cloud had managed to steal from one of the large turtle-monsters from around Wutai. The man was so abysmal with magic that he only wore two orbs worth, and they simply boosted his stamina [4].
Actually . . . Cid was using that Trident they had found in the ruins. He was better with Magic than Tiffa, and both were somewhat better at it than Berret, but he was still no mage. He was leaving the casting, and the green orbs, to those who could make better use of them. Like Yuffie, though Cloud suspected she was adept from her long years coveting and stealing the solidified Mako. Vincent and Red XIII were closer to a true balance between the extremes of magic use and physical prowess, like himself, even if the same could be said of the Ninja. And, of course, none in their band could match Aerith or Cait Sith in magical abilities. They were laden with most of the party’s green orbs.
Of course, Vincent was paranoid--much as any good Turk was--and unlike everyone else had not one, but three weapons on him, two of which had complete Materia setups. The man had opened with his Sniper CR, the rifle being the most accurate of his guns, but weaker than the Shortbarrel he had under his cloak. The sawed-off gun also had an extra Materia slot. Still, if all else failed, or the sable-haired enigma had to press the advantage, he had the Silver Rifle from the temple for that extra bit of raw physical power.
Somewhere above his head a chainsaw sounded. Maybe HellMasker could put Sephiroth to sleep.
Cloud sighed, letting the dream go. That would have been too easy, and all too welcome. The blond ex-SOLDIER looked around, finding that he had managed to come to an intersection of sorts. There were about eight different ways out--nine if he included the path he’d just come up--but only five of the routes looked like they were heading back up. The blue-eyed boy looked each one over, before sighing again and hefting Yoshiyuki onto his back. He ran through the leftmost of the five, and hoped that it didn’t curl around like the caves under Nanaki’s home.
Five minutes of running in near full darkness proved that it didn’t. It also proved he hadn’t been going up.
Cloud stared out at the view, feeling so much younger than his twenty-one years. It was like looking out into the heart of the world, the Life-Stream itself welling up in a flare of Mako and boulders. The blond fighter stepped further out of the tunnel opening onto the ledge, looking up and around at the swirling green dotted with the occasional solid hunk of black-rock floating in space. [4]
At the bottom of what he could see, there floated an island suspended in the raging force of the Life-Stream. If he jumped he could make it. If he fell . . . Cloud turned around, preparing to leave. And it was the only reason he noticed the shadow descending over the rocks.
Instinct worked faster than thought, and he repulsed himself backwards by the sheer power of his leg muscles. The Planet was kind, he’d managed to arc out far enough to land on the island or another ledge below him. He looked up, seeing Masamune about to sheath herself into his skull, and brought up Murasame, bracing it with one hand on the blue-wrapped grip, and another on the blunt side of the blade.
And then Sephiroth was bearing down on him, with the power and fury of a mad world. The ground vibrated with the transition of his kinetic force into the solid rock. Cloud was pretty sure that there was now a six inch deep, two foot wide, divot under his feet, but he didn’t dare look down to confirm the sensation. A chuckle, and the 1st Class madman drew back. The blond dove to the side, rolled, got his feet under him, and launched himself up onto an overhanging ledge.
Another laugh, and Cloud spun, this time charging the Thundaga Materia he always carried with him. But the silveret seemed to no more feel it than he did the mystifying effect Cloud had added into his blade. But at least the ex-SOLDIER could feel the mental energy [5] needed to control such spells draining out of his once idol into him.
But it looked like Sephiroth could feel it too. He took his right hand--off hand--away from the grip, and took hold of the brown leather harness straps--Cloud couldn’t sheath most of his swords, and it had been standard practice in SOLDIER not to do so, just to strap the naked blades onto his back--crossing over his chest. And then his hand was suddenly, too suddenly, glowing red and angry, and Firaga bloomed in his azure vision, and sent him flying back into the glow of the Life-Stream.
He was pained to note that the Life-Stream here made for a rather effective wall. About two bruised ribs worth of pain. But he’d kept the grip on his sword, and dug the fingers of his off hand into the slick surface. A detached part of his mind took a moment to be stunned that he could touch and hold the green as if it was a solid. The rest of him mechanically followed survival instinct and training to get his feet under him again, and keep moving.
Masamune then embedded into the spirit-wall a hair’s breadth behind him.
Cloud launched himself up, found no boulders, and prayed to the Planet he wasn’t going crazy as he thought to run up the vertical plane of coalescing life energy. It was nice enough to let him, and put gravity on hold as he made some distance between himself and the Terror of Wutai. When he found another suspended boulder to leap to, Cloud jumped at the chance, summersaulting backwards in midair to it.
Sephiroth was just below him, eyes green and glowing Mako bright, the twisted grin on his face, the same one, the same one he had the night he killed everyone, the same one he used when he was so sure, so confident that he was about to have his kill, and--
In perfect slow motion as they drew closer, Cloud held out his off--left--hand, and activated Gravity. He smirked, feeling himself heal just the slightest bit as the attack hit. [6] Sephiroth fell earthward, and Cloud almost broke himself in half when he landed on the boulder. He took a minute to pat himself down, and see that none of the X-Potions in his inventory had broken. They were fine, as were the Turbo-Eathers, Phenix Downs, and lone Elixir. Too rare and precious for words, each of them had one to use as they saw fit for this fight.
But before he could make use of any curatives, a loud roar ripped through the air, signaling the other fighter’s disgust with the situation. Cloud got himself into a ready position, and closed up the pack before anything could be lost. Now he was at the top of the area, in the center of what footing the hunk of land had to offer him, with sight the only sense he couldn’t use to locate Sephiroth. He knew that man was probably still under him, and his perch blocked the man from view.
Readying himself, and straining his ears, he waited for the man’s attack. All too soon he could feel the vibrations of it running up his legs. Looking down, he feared for the worst, and moved just before Masamune managed to slice the ledge in half. However Cloud’s left leg was cut, a shallow wound to the outside, and then sprayed with debris from the rock he stood on. Sephiroth followed smoothly, turning his body to catch the blond mercenary with an off stroke. But Cloud already wasn’t there, having bounded away to the green wall, yet sliding towards Gaia’s core because of his unsteady footing. He ignored the dark stain covering his pant-leg. The terrible man wasn’t about to let him be for a quick Cure, so there was no reason to dwell on it yet.
Another boulder presented itself, and he leaped, happy to ready another attack. He looked up, casting Gravity again, on the off chance Sephiroth was too enraged to bother with avoiding the attack. Cloud felt the bleeding slow to a trickle, and then brought Murasame back up. Now, however, the once General was trying to grind him into the ground, and with a primal snarl, he kneed the blond in his gut. All the air rushed out of his lunges, before he was batted aside into a different hunk of sharpened rock, his back hitting first. He skidded across the surface, but still held his blade. The boy stood, shook his head and ringing temples, and brought up Murasame to block. But at the last second the sadistic silveret danced away.
Cloud growled at the feign, and tried to pinpoint where he would come from next. Which direction? Not from under him again, that would be too simple. Above? Behind? He whirled, blocking the attack that would have severed his sword arm. But there was still the fireball slammed into his face. He howled in agony, backing away a step. The flames danced for a moment before going out, but the damage to his eyes was already done. Now he needed to get away and heal before he was blinded permanently. And Sephiroth was still pressing his weight on Cloud’s sword.
“You make such interesting noises, Puppet.”
Cloud hissed, but said nothing.
“This is over, Puppet. Your band of merry fools are gone, already fed to the Life-Stream.”
“Lies!” Cloud put all his force into swinging the Buster Sword outward, its familiar weight a comfort in his hands. It was enough to push the demonic warrior away, that let him drop to his knees and just listen for the next attack. He dug into his pack anyway, pulling out an X-Potion. Something on top. The bottle felt like a Potion, but as long as it healed his body, his eyes would be fine. The other man was toying with him, a pale cat with a wounded mouse. He uncapped the drink and threw it back without tasting it.
Sephiroth slammed into his back, and he choked most of the liquid back up. His face smashed into the hard ground, and he heard the sickening crunch of it breaking. He made a sweep with his legs, and heard the madman jump away. Now to get his hands back on the Buster Sword, on something to use as a shield--with a thought, Barrier was up. Then there came a stabbing pain, in his outstretched arm, the burn of metal as Masamune was removed from him chasing it. Before he could respond, she sunk into his other, left, shoulder, shearing through bone. When the fallen angel took it upon himself to twist the blade, Cloud didn’t bother to hold back his screams.
* * * *
He jerked awake, hearing the sound of his own voice echoing in his ears. What . . . had . . . Cloud blinked his eyes, relieved to find that they could open, and that he could even look out upon the world. Was that a dream? He darted his eyes around the darkened room, finding it unfamiliar. Maybe they were at a new Inn? That was probably it. With a sigh, he bonelessly sunk down into the opulent bed.
Except . . . he didn’t.
Sapphire blue eyes flicked to the right. His arm was bound to the headboard! Looking the other way, so was his off arm. He kicked his feet, and found that they were bound too, to the footboard. And that the silk sheets were rubbing directly against his skin, including his most delicate areas.
Cloud flushed pink, and tried to flex against the bonds. He almost missed the sounds of the door opening.
A waterfall of shimmering silver faced him as Sephiroth backed into the room, and there was a soft ‘thunk’ and ‘click’ as the door was closed and locked. It was an affront to his pride, that the man had no fear of attack, no fear of the blond trying to strike out at his weak point. Cloud’s jailer turned, a tray balanced against his stomach, and both arms, and supporting a bowl that had the distinct scent of soup-based food about it.
“So, you’ve already regained consciousness. That’s good. Mother should only be served by the best tools.”
“I’m Not A Tool!” Cloud snarled out.
“Don’t act angry, Puppet.” Sephiroth strode across the room, before seating himself on a chair that was facing the blond’s bedside. “Mother and I forgive you for trying to fight us, so there will be no further discipline.” Now that the tray was on his lap, Cloud could see that it was indeed soup, and that the man even had utensils and napkins.
“Killing my friends was ‘disciplining’ me?” The ex-SOLDIER strained against the seemingly mundane leather straps holding him back from ripping the silver demon’s throat open.
“No, killing your friends was a lie. Without you leading them, I have nothing to fear. The girl will not call on Holy, knowing that I could kill you for such a slight. I surmise they will make a fool’s errand of your,” He paused, a strange light coming into his eyes, and a chuckle tinting his voice. “Rescue.”
Cloud shivered, and everything fell into place. His goal had been to kill Sephiroth. There were many ways to do that, but it was his only condition for victory. Meanwhile, the master tactician only had to worry about stopping them from carrying out Aerith’s plan, and that was a rather lax win condition by comparison. It explained why Sephiroth had worked hard, but subtly, to separate him from the pack, and why he would have avoided killing his friends. He didn’t need to waste the energy. He was using AVALANCHE against each other as bargaining chips, and decoys. He could go out and kill all of Cloud’s friends if the blond didn’t do what the man wanted, and the same man could kill the blue-eyed boy if they tried to stop Sephiroth permanently. Damn, Cloud had no way of seeing this coming, but it still hurt that he had fallen for it. The man had been so set on destroying everything. . .
He looked down, ready to brood over his situation, and saw a loaded spoon poised before his lips. Cloud blinked.
“Eat up, Puppet, you have to re-hydrate yourself.”
The young man leveled a stoney glare at his once idol.
“You can’t make me kill you in a fit of rage.” Sephiroth smiled sweetly. “And whether you struggle or cooperate, I will enjoy this victory.” He brought the spoon back up.
Cloud ran over everything he knew about Sephiroth in his mind, from before, and after, that fateful day. The General was not known for underhanded and, frankly, dishonest tactics. He was known for being clever. Lying and putting some form of poison into the food, after saying it was to help Cloud recover? No. Beating him to death with the spoon? More likely. Grabbing his head and lighting it on fire again until he was a charred mess not even Hojo could salvage for scraps? Second most likely way he’d die here, right after taking Masamune to his heart. . . or spleen if Sephiroth wanted to draw things out.
With a sigh, he opened his mouth, accepting the nourishment. Maybe he’d luck out, recover more strength than Sephiroth wanted, and escape that way.
“Ah, but then I could easily break the bones in your arms and legs, bring you back, truss you up, and heal you. . . If I felt like having you in pristine condition again.”
What? Was he speaking aloud? Sephiroth laughed, and looked at him with sparkling eyes. “No, Puppet, I’m in your head. . . . I have been since not so long after you first killed me.” [7]
Sapphire eyes widened at that, his mouth hanging open. The silveret placed in another spoonful of soup rather than allowing him the chance to retort. He swallowed obediently, and a flicker of a smile danced on the man’s lips. Cloud didn’t dwell on it, trying to get comfortable within his bonds. It occurred to him his legs were spread open, and his ankles were tied more to the bedposts than the footboard itself. The sheets and comforter, and other assorted bed coverings, were still shielding him from sight, so he felt reasonably comfortable. Until he realized Sephiroth had undressed him, and that must have been for a reason.
“I needed to clean you wounds. And you aren’t going to make it far from here, unnoticed, with no clothing on.” Another smirk.
Cloud glared, but opened his mouth for another spoonful.
He almost gagged it back up upon feeling Sephiroth brush his un-gloved fingers against his chin and bottom lip.
“Hush, Puppet.” For a moment, Cloud swore his eyes started to glow Mako green. “All is right with the world.”
For the life of him, Cloud couldn’t find any reason to doubt the sincerity in Sephiroth’s voice. So he smiled slightly, a smile that he could tell genuinely reached his fully dilated pupils, and opened his mouth for more soup. Sephiroth smiled more too, and all continued to be right with the world as he was given more soup.
Throughout the meal, his once idol continued to dispense small touches, and gestures of concern, be they just a brush of fingers over his lips, or a hand cupping his cheek, trailing down his neck, up into his hair, but every time Cloud started to feel uncomfortable, Sephiroth would murmur something and he would suddenly feel . . . safe and warm again.
On the last spoonful, the former General dragged the utensil against his pink lips. Cloud’s little tongue tentatively reached out after it, trailing along it for the last drop of broth. He flicked his tongue, working it over the curve, the inside of the arch, unknowingly straining towards the stem and the fingers holding it. This surely amused the silveret, for he started to chuckle. The sound distracted Cloud, causing him to look away from his goal.
“Time to clean up.” With that, the godly man set the tray, and other accouterments, off to the side.
The blond fighter resigned himself to the inevitable, as the man had cleaned him once already. The mattress dipped with the added weight of another human, and he looked up to find the silver menace already in close proximity to him.
“D-don’t you need water, and maybe something to actually clean me with?”
For an answer, Sephiroth chuckled, captured his chin in his hand, then tilted Cloud’s head back just so, leaned forward, and licked the corner of the young man’s mouth. The ex-SOLDIER recoiled, trying to pull away.
“No.” Sephiroth forced him to lock eyes. “Calm, Puppet. I won’t hurt you.” That gave Cloud a moment of pause. He knew the man was telling him the truth, but . . . something seemed . . off. If the silveret would just give him a moment to think about things, rather than continuing to kiss his jaw . . . although. . . that didn’t exactly feel bad. He shifted, letting the older male draw closer, and moved his head to properly receive those warm kisses being dropped onto his waiting lips.
The beautiful strategist gave a throaty purr, and Cloud felt pleasure and approval flood his senses. He whimpered, overwhelmed by the ideas, until the older man started to prod Cloud’s lips with his tongue, in a silent bid for entrance. The young blond gave it readily, opening wide for the dominating presence that pushed against his mind and body, and cocoon-ed them tightly in his hold. The silveret was through in his ruthless exploration of his mouth, even coaxing his own wetted muscle to twin and dance in sensual play.
Cloud felt the man’s fingers on his chest, trailing downward. It made him want to squirm, first to get away, and then to get more sensations after his keeper flicked one pert bud of pink flesh, sending shock-waves of amplified pleasure surging through his over-stimulated body. Cloud didn’t even notice that he’d started to lightly sweat from all of the attention, but it was becoming noticeable with the way his own oils changed the drag and friction of the silveret’s touches to his smooth-soft skin.
Those fingers continued to drag lower, down chest and abdomen, to play with the edge of the blankets. The other man’s mouth and lips worked tirelessly to keep Cloud’s mind occupied as the covering was pulled back, but the blond still noticed. But with all the wonderful attention being paid him, the fighter only hesitated a moment before he was filled with a loving confidence. So Cloud had no shame of being seen by the godly man. The silveret had picked him to be seen, after all.
Then those lips fell lower, down his body. They traced his mid-rift, paused over the lines and spaces of his ribs. The young warrior’s breath caught in his throat when he noticed green eyes looking back up at him. Sephiroth smiled, making his heart flutter wildly, before he dipped down, flicking wet attention into the blue-eyed boy’s navel. An explosive sigh fell from pale-pink lips, and Cloud writhed under the attention being paid his whole body. He suddenly wanted his arms free, so that he could tangle his hands in Sephiroth’s long flowing mane, to pull that talented mouth down where fervently wanted it to be.
But the silver savior was kind. As if reading Cloud’s very thoughts, he took pity on the boy, and nuzzled his way lower, taking the swollen head between his plump lips.
“A-AAH!” So warm! Sephiroth’s mouth almost burned with radiant heat.
The beautiful man began to kiss and suck on the salty treat in his care, reaching forth with one of his hands. The other went to keep Sephiroth upright, and the boy’s hips still. Strong, clever fingertips started to carde through the thicket of blond curls protecting the heavy balls just waiting to be massaged and fondled. And play Sephiroth did. He rolled the pair in one hand, working his lips lower, further along Cloud’s straining manhood.
Cloud himself was making a plethora of sounds. He moaned, cried out, implored that the silver general never stop his ministrations, and whined from the back of his throat. It wasn’t fair. Why wouldn’t his god let him touch him?
Sephiroth purred, and the sound reverberated up Cloud’s spine, to bounce around his mind, settling into the center, the core of him, wrapping his senses in pleasurable warmth. With a groan, he bucked up, trying to open his legs wider, offering himself up in supplication to the divine force pleasing him so benevolently. Yes, yes, he was right, Sephiroth was right and he didn’t need to touch him anymore than the man was willing to be touched.
He continued to tease and touch his prey, shifting from the side of the bed to between the willing blond’s legs. But his clothes were a bit of a bother, getting in the way of warmth and heat, and slick skin. So he decided that they were no longer needed, and winked them away, off of his body, and onto the chair by the bed. He smirked, satisfied with himself, and deep-throated the teen.
Cloud wailed in pleasure. “Please! I-I can’t! It’s too much, please, sir!” Then a string of curses spilled from his lips as his hot seed spilled from his body. The older man drank deep of his release, swallowing each drop, and milked him for more.
The blond sagged against his bonds bonelessly, a deliriously happy, and possibly somewhat silly, grin spread over his face. Mmm, Sephiroth was brilliant, perfect, wonderful, knowledgeable in so many ways. He could never ask for anything more than what the man would give him, as the silveret seemed to know him better than he knew himself.
That same man who was crawling up his lean frame. That same man who was staring into his eyes, smiling and leaning in to kiss him. The same man who was so warm against his thrumming body. The same man who was running his hands over his skin, touching, feeling him out in his most intimate places. Those strong, agile fingers that had ended the lives of so many unworthy were wet now, wet and searching, touching, tracing his opening. He whined again, still hating that he was being held down, and unable to play, to properly pleasure the man over him.
Sephiroth chuckled softly. “So persistent. . . . Patience, Puppet. Patience, and you will have your reward.” He kissed the blond again, inserting a single slim digit.
The younger man bucked again, taking the intrusion in as deep as it would go. Another purr rumbled against his lips, Sephiroth having leaned in to capture his mouth again. His body was already reawakening, shivering with new life and the way the sweat evaporated in the raw air of the heating room. His insides quivered when a second object was slipped into him. Then Sephiroth twisted those bedeviling fingers just so, starting to stretch and open him, to prepare him for the proper worship of his masterful lover.
The silveret suddenly switched to kissing his neck, free hand going to cradle the blond’s head. A breathy moan left the teen’s lips. With a final smirk, Sephiroth pushed a third finger in, and reached for that cluster of nerves which he knew would make the young thing howl for him.
And howl Cloud did. His whole body shook violently from the pleasurable assault on his self. He continued to moan, and murmur as he was stretched wide, legs and arms straining, constantly working to break the bonds holding him down so that he could draw Sephiroth closer to him, properly hold him against his body.
The older man chuckled again, pulling back to look into those dazed blue eyes. “I think you’re ready, Puppet. . .” With that he leaned away, to undo the belts holding lithe legs wide. Cloud almost immediately wrapped them around his waist and hips. This pleased Sephiroth greatly, but it was not exactly what he wanted. He took hold of Cloud’s ankles, and maneuvered the blond until both legs were thrown over his broad shoulders. Now the fighter was opened wide, fully exposed for his enjoyment.
And oh, how the man was going to enjoy his toy.
The silver beauty shifted until Cloud was in his lap, and the tip of him nudged the youth’s opening. Jade-green eyes looked up, seeing that his audience was still captivated by his actions. Another purr, and Sephiroth speared in.
Cloud threw his head back with a throaty groan. Having the other man inside of him was exquisite. It made everything else inside him pulse with delighted want. He did what he could to hasten his decent down the prolific length piercing his body, reaching into his soul. He could tell the silver god was pleased with his eagerness, and was rewarded with kisses being liberally dropped over his face and lips. It was perfect, a beautiful heaven like none Cloud could have dreamed up on his own: Sephiroth was sunk deep inside of him, filling him from both ends with the way he was paying attention to his mouth. He was held, and petted, and cared for, fawned over even, as the silver force inside him continued to radiate heat and lusting comfort into his body and mind.
Then Sephiroth shifted, pulling back, before rolling forward again.
Cloud’s vision of heaven was redefined.
The older man pulled back again, and started a brutal pace, arms wrapped around the blond’s torso. The boy pulled his mouth away to howl in delight, finding that everything was far more present, intense, than he’d ever thought it could be with the act. His body continued to be rocked with every hard movement and thrust Sephiroth made into and against him.
The bed-frame thundered against the walls, box-springs protesting every movement. Cloud found he didn’t care what the other people in the Inn would think. He had a savior to please.
Sephiroth bit down on the blond’s shoulder, marking him, and he angled his hips, shifting, questing for the same sport he had pleasured before, the one that would make the warrior submit to him completely.
Cloud’s back arched, forcing himself down. “Dammit!” He wanted more, and threw himself back against every one of the military man’s thrusts. His arms jerked, wanting to be free, to hold the god filling him with self-worth. But Sephiroth just hushed him, kissing his complaints away as he continued to pound them out of his mind.
Then there was a shift, and Cloud’s world almost seemed to collapse into one single sensation of pleasure.
Sephiroth smiled, having found what he was looking for. Another shift of his hips, and he bashed into the blond head on.
Another, louder, wail left Cloud then, and a string of babbled nonsense. It was too much, like Sephiroth was touching and stroking his insides, caressing all of his senses with pleasure and warmth. He tried to hold on, but ended up just swearing louder, shuddering and breathing hard. He felt so wonderfully, deliciously, hot inside, and keened in the back of his throat. Sephiroth continued to move inside him, through him, overtaking him, pulling him down into the maddening pleasure with him.
Then the man reached down to touch his starving body, and he was lost. Cloud gave himself up to the sensations flooding him, letting Sephiroth work his will through him, tangling his mind and soul around those strong nimble fingers. It was everything he could have wanted, needed, feeling the thickness throb and twitch inside him, filling him. He needed, craved, completion, but didn’t dare seek it before the masterful man was ready to be done with him.
“Beautiful Puppet . . . so obedient.” He kissed the blond, going back to nibbling on his neck as he continued to work Cloud’s length, and his own aching need. He plunged deep, twisting hard, and flicked his thumb over the leaking, pulsing head in his hand.
With a final shout, Cloud exploded, body going tight and rigid in Sephiroth’s lap.
The silveret continued to thrust inside him, until at last the carnal pressure reached the perfect fevered pitch, and he too fell into sweet oblivion. He bit down again when he spilled himself, filling the boy with his approval.
Cloud panted as he came down from his sexual high. His body still felt charged from all that had happened, mind buzzing with stray thoughts which couldn’t quite collect themselves. From beside him, or was it above him? Well, either way, he could hear Sephiroth chuckling again, as the silveret kissed him, paying attention to his shoulder.
“Mmm, I think you’ve earned a rest . . . Pet. So, sleep. Remember, no matter what, Mother and I treasure you. So, you must stay strong if you are to serve us.” And he dropped more kisses onto his little blond head.
It was with this overwhelming feeling of perfect contentment that Cloud drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
Cloud woke to a steady pounding echoing inside his head. With a groan, he groggily looked up to see that he was in a familiar room, and not the one he’d just dreamed about. The pounding continued. Cloud frowned, and shook his head, before looking up at the closed door. [8]
Oh. “Yeah?”
Tiffa opened the door without any hesitation. “Cloud! Aerith’s gone! She’s left to summon Holy!”
Owari~
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[1] Well this is part of what Cait Sith did for Zack, and Cloud has Zack’s memories so . . . . yeah fun.
[2] Why is there no revive series Materia in Crisis Core? Also, wanted to give Vinny Phenix Materia, but . . . well, you’ll read. And if it still doesn’t make sense, comment and I’ll find a way to answer.
[3] Or as we gamers call it, HP Plus Materia.
[4] Dissidia’s level for FF7. . . . Which I think was based off of the final fight with Sephy in the Northern Crater.
[5] How to call ‘MP’ anything but -that-, take one! Or . . . you know . . . Cloud has MP absorb linked to Lightning in this sword. . . . That he has always been using . . . since the beginning of the fiction . . . . What do you mean he started off with a 2 slot sword with a pink grip? Lies! LIES!! *Runs off*
[6] Because Gravity + HP Absorb is awesome. . . . even if Demi doesn’t work on bosses. . . . TRUST ME, THERE ARE REASONS BEHIND ALL OF MY ‘MISTAKES’. Just go with it for now, really.
[7] You know, and I know, Cloud didn’t remember he did that at the time. But I got a feeling that Crazy!roth never forgot--or why would he give a shit what AVALANCHE did after getting everything he needed for Meteor from them? And before you say Holy, I’ve found things that Invalidate the argument. Worst of all it comes from the game itself because, and I quote Red’s own lines from near the end of the game:
“It's too late for Holy. Meteor is approaching the Planet. Holy is having the opposite effect. Forget Midgar, we've gotta worry about the Planet!” Opposite. . . helping. . . . in the end, it’s the Lifestream/LifeStream--probably controlled/coaxed into action by Aerith (and Zack)--that stops Meteor. Yes people, if Seph had left her alive, he would have won. So *getting back on topic* consider Sephiroth’s comment part of artistic license.
[8] Yeah, when I started writing, I was going from memory. Then I started to replay FF7 on a ‘new’ PS2 that can read PS1 disks. Now I see all the things I got wrong, like originally Cloud was supposed to wake up in his room on the Highwind. So many inaccuracies. . . . Maybe I’ll do another version of this with less of them. @w@;;
A/N: I had started this before starting a play through of FF7, so I forgot Cait Sith’s true identity was exposed much later. Just go with it. *Sweatdrops* I can’t fix it without Cloud’s logic falling through, and then people would know this is a dream from the start.
Same with Holy and knowing what the City of the Ancients looks like. Part of it is suspension of disbelief. One could, however, argue that Jenova-roth/Sephi-nova is feeding information into Cloud’s head via his clone’s eyes and the prior knowledge that Mommy dearest has about the Cetra.
Yes. Sephiroth really did haxx into Cloud’s dream-talk with Aerith in the game canon. At the end. It’s why everyone went rushing off to protect her: because they thought he could get to her. You could say this is a ‘What If?’ where Sephiroth haxxz in, as per the game, but then takes it a step further with the long dream sequence.
And this is about the only kind of situation where I’m okay with the old, ‘it was all just a dream’, trick. I’m sorry if that switch at the end upset any of you, but it was the only way I could think to work in legitimate sexy-timez during the game-time.
Lastly, best wishes to SSCeles (of DA), because this fic was all for her. Hope you liked it!
As always people, feel free to review, and throw in your two cents about it.
Fandom: Final Fantasy 7
Title: 'The Eye of the Storm'
Author/Artist: Lynn Stardragon (Happy Dragon)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Sephiroth x Cloud.
Rating: NC-17... So NC-17 . . .
Warnings: Puppet!Cloud. . . . and Sephiroth likes his toys. . . . MIND HAXXZ AHOY!
Summary: It’s the final fight against Sephiroth, and everyone is by Cloud’s side. Even Aeirth. There’s nothing wrong with that picture . . . right?
Key:
“Talking aloud.”
Major P.O.V./Scene Change: * * * *
A/N: My notes/comments/ramblings
Story Start/End: ------
A/N: My half of a trade: Pr0nZ for art.
That said, I’m miffed that my PS2 can no longer read PS1 games. Angst! Rage! Unhappiness! So I’m basically taking artistic license with what, exactly, everyone’s weapons look like, since I can’t access my FF VII file, and any in-game descriptions are buried under more relevant data in the online walkthroughs (like names, stats, locations, and number of Materia slots and if they are linked or not).
Also, having played through FF7: Crisis Core, and FF7: Dirge of Cerberus, I’m taking massive artistic license with Cait Sith. Why? Because he was near useless originally, even if Reeve was awesome himself. Because his sneaking around missions in DoC make perfect sense for a mini-game that never happened in FF7. But mostly because his limit-break in Crisis Core was so fucking awesome I’m calling haxxz and saying he can buff the party like mage/priest/druid/whatever else can cast buffs on other players in WoW (World of WarCraft Online). Honestly, Curage Boost was like one of my favorites, right with Lucky Star, Healing wave, that Moogle one where all your Materia leveled, and Phenix--though you got that closer to the end game, to replace the nice potion lady with her free Phenix Downs.
Still, he’s gonna rock with Enemy skill Materia in this, if needed.
I apologize to all FF VII purists, but I’m using updated/more recent versions of Materia names (e.g.: Thunder vs. Lightning/Bolt), and calling her Aerith not Aeris.
Lastly, all ‘mistakes’ are there for a reason.
Rating: NC-17.
|Spoilers|: Only if you haven’t played FF VII before.
|Description|: Where Sephiroth goes, Cloud follows. Or is that the other way around?
|Warning|: Two hot, sweaty, beautiful men going at it like rabbits in heat. Swearing--because it happens. Non-Con/Dub-Con, depending on how you like your Cloud mind-fuckery (including consensual for you really twisted souls out there. XD). Mild to massive violence. Allusion to the inevitable sad things in FF VII. Oh, and mind games, because Sephiroth loves to break his puppet.
Beta'd by:
Criticism: Make a point, or Sephiroth might get all stabby on you. And Genesis will show you the real definition of ‘flame’. Constructive criticism will be acknowledged by Angeal, and forwarded to me.
Disclaimer: I do not own FF VII, or Kingdom Hearts, nor any of the settings or characters pertaining to those franchises. This fiction gets me no money, munny, or gil; it’s a labor of love that is its own reward.
Summary: Cloud thought AVALANCHE was ready to take on Sephiroth. Sephiroth showed him the truth.
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‘The Eye of the Storm’
Cloud was sent sprawling onto his back, Yoshiyuki spinning away from him due to the force of blocking Masamune. He blinked, not quite remembering what Materia, if any, he had slotted into the great-blade for a moment (probably no curative ones that could mitigate his throbbing temples) before Red XIII--Nanaki, was tossed aside just as carelessly, bestial body twisting his feet under him at the last second to rebound off a glowing tree. Somewhere to Cloud’s right Vincent was taking his shots from shadowy vantage-points in the crevices of volcanic rocks, only almost hitting every time by virtue of the ex-General’s inhuman speed. Berret cursed, fired off his Rocket Punch, and made a spectacular distraction of himself as Yuffie struck out with her Razor Wing-Ring-thing, Thunder charging through the weapon. Cid and Tiffa made for a pincer attack, but Sephiroth just suddenly wasn’t where he had been. He did that far too often for the blond’s taste, and hefting himself up, his blue eyes wandered over to the magic inclined duo. Still safe, with Aerith using her unlimited energy to heal wounds before blood spilled from them with Curaga, and Cait Sith making liberal use of his newest Limit Break, causing golden cloudbursts to fill his vision for a moment, before a trailing warmth took their place.
That had been strange, the first time he had suffered the effects of Courage Boost. Cait Sith had been a bouncing ball of energy, circling around him as he hopped, and ended by clapping his hands right at the end of his nose. Cloud had been seeing stars, and feeling all the ill effects of battle leaving him, right before all the monster attacks and spells started to bounce off of his skin and the Barrier and Magic Barrier he didn’t remember casting. [1] Thankfully the feline had learned how to spread the effects to the entire fighting force, and in such a way that didn’t get him underfoot. This consisted of the aforementioned golden clouds of energy than cracked like thunderheads above the battle area before dissipating to infuse all of AVALANCHE with that same warm energy trying to clear Cloud’s head.
Key word ‘trying’.
The ex-SOLDIER rubbed at his eyes and got an idea of where his sword flew off to. He made a beeline for it, right before Vincent fired off a Blizzara bullet over his head. The silver haired demon snarled, and from the sound of cracking ice it had encased the lower half of his famed blade. From the sound of Yuffie’s whoops, Berret’s hollering, and Cid’s yelled swears, half their group had just pounced on the opportunity provided.
How had they gotten here again? The wiry youth ducked into a forward roll, and scooped up the handle of his oversized sword. Looking over he saw the lingering protection of Courage Boost made the difference between Tiffa landing a kick or landing on her ass on the far side of the Ancient City. The cat-bot was trying his hands at L4 Suicide, and that seemed to stun the crazed man long enough for Nanaki to howl out Cosmo Memory.
If Cloud stopped to think about things, the events at the Temple of the Ancients were the last things he clearly remembered. Reeve sacrificed his stand-in--first stand-in, for the ‘fortune telling machine’ with them now was the spare body, which lead to the question of how much of a sacrifice was the loss of the toy to the Shin-Ra executive turned spy turned . . . whatever he was now. Did Shin-Ra fund him the money for the robots? Did Reeve pay out of pocket? The company wasn’t one for toy manufacturing, and yet for such a complex machine, did that mean the man had nothing and no one else to spend his gil on? And he had let one of them go without a second thought to help save Gaia by keeping the Black Materia away from Sephiroth.
Cloud had failed them all, given it away to the feeling of puppet strings winding round his core and tugging his arms up in supplication as his mind and soul raged uselessly against his body. And the ex-General had smiled down on him, a mad godling accepting a sacrifice upon his temple alter.
Kinda like the way he was now. That couldn’t have been good.
Yoshiyuki was up again before Cloud was even thinking about which defensive stance to use. Feral green eyes burned into his sky-blue ones, and the deranged man muscled him back and away through a puddle and almost over a hidden cliff. The blond dug his heels in, pushing back at the edge, toned muscles taunt and sinews straining in his lithe body. The Terror of Wutai, however, had height and training on him, and his corded muscles coiled under his black leather ensemble to whip the short warrior over the edge. Cloud watched the waterfall of silver hair flow over the side of the cliff, before the fiend turned away and back to face the rest of his friends.
Sluggish reflexes made him drive his long sword into the wall of the blackened volcanic shale, carving a track all the way down, and slowing his decent as he clung to the hilt. Gravity brought him to a lower level of the city, where the road led off into twisting paths, none of them going directly back from whence he came. So Cloud extracted his sword, dust and pebbles spraying over his blue uniform, and crunching under his brown leather boots as he turned to run down the path he was on, hoping to take a connection back to the fight. He looked up into the perpetually overcast sky, annoyed that he had no stars or other markers to navigate by.
His feet pounded down unpaved gravel, echoing in the vast space of the dead city. He cut through buildings, urged on by the sounds of his friends being distorted by distance. If there were monsters here, they were frightened off by the silver demon’s presence. Well that, and the staccato beat being played out by Berret using his Ungarmax attack. If it wasn’t already, the city was going to be in ruins by the time they were all done. Still, Cloud ran, downwards it seemed, always downward, which was getting disconcerting since he needed to get back ‘up’ to the fight. Considering they had stocked up before this battle, and Aerith wasn’t the only person capable of using the Cure series Materia and Phenix Downs (Vincent had a Mastered Revive [3] on him, as his transformations tended to heal him back from the brink of death, and his guns kept him out of the reach of most critters), AVALANCHE could hold their own until he rejoined them.
The path branched, and he took the fork that climbed.
How did they get here? How did he get into this mess? Separated from his friends as they fought against Gaia’s greatest enemy! Everything had been going well before, or actually, everything hadn’t been going well before but. . .
Cloud slowed, slid to a stop, and took a moment to breathe, forcing his thoughts to order themselves.
He’d handed over the Black Materia and . . . Aerith had realized how to stop Sephiroth. She had made it sound so hauntingly clear to him, all she needed to do was get to the Ancient City of the Cetra. She was the one to lead the way, because normal humans like them would get lost in the forest. He felt like he might have gotten lost a few times, but everyone was here now so that feeling didn’t matter. They were here . . but. . . somehow Sephiroth was here too. . .
No, Cloud told himself as he started to run again, that did make sense because this was the logical place for him to go if there was something that could stop him here. And Sephiroth was not a normal human, had power above and beyond the half-Cetra in their group, so finding an alternate way in was to be expected of him. Sephiroth was preventing them--preventing Aerith from getting to where she needed to be to . . . . Pray. . . pray for Holy. She had said if she could talk to the planet then Gaia would . . .
Actually she never said what the planet would do. Odd. Or was it just they had to try everything? They did, really, this was the infernal shell of the man who had single-handedly conquered Wutai for Shin-Ra. So she would pray, they all would, that Gaia liked Sephiroth and Meteor less than it did the humans bleeding her dry.
He hated it when parts of Sephiroth’s rhetoric made a twisted kind of sense. It usually preceded the floor going out from under him.
And that’s why they had prepared, he remembered. The stops along the way to pick up potions and elixirs, and ammo, and armor and Materia and inspect weapons. Everything . . .
The weapons in the temple were powerful, but didn’t allow for the use of Materia, save for Aerith’s Princess Guard. Power in exchange for knowledge--magic use. Needless to say, Berret was only too happy to start wearing the big red robotic hand. And the Adaman Bangle Cloud had managed to steal from one of the large turtle-monsters from around Wutai. The man was so abysmal with magic that he only wore two orbs worth, and they simply boosted his stamina [4].
Actually . . . Cid was using that Trident they had found in the ruins. He was better with Magic than Tiffa, and both were somewhat better at it than Berret, but he was still no mage. He was leaving the casting, and the green orbs, to those who could make better use of them. Like Yuffie, though Cloud suspected she was adept from her long years coveting and stealing the solidified Mako. Vincent and Red XIII were closer to a true balance between the extremes of magic use and physical prowess, like himself, even if the same could be said of the Ninja. And, of course, none in their band could match Aerith or Cait Sith in magical abilities. They were laden with most of the party’s green orbs.
Of course, Vincent was paranoid--much as any good Turk was--and unlike everyone else had not one, but three weapons on him, two of which had complete Materia setups. The man had opened with his Sniper CR, the rifle being the most accurate of his guns, but weaker than the Shortbarrel he had under his cloak. The sawed-off gun also had an extra Materia slot. Still, if all else failed, or the sable-haired enigma had to press the advantage, he had the Silver Rifle from the temple for that extra bit of raw physical power.
Somewhere above his head a chainsaw sounded. Maybe HellMasker could put Sephiroth to sleep.
Cloud sighed, letting the dream go. That would have been too easy, and all too welcome. The blond ex-SOLDIER looked around, finding that he had managed to come to an intersection of sorts. There were about eight different ways out--nine if he included the path he’d just come up--but only five of the routes looked like they were heading back up. The blue-eyed boy looked each one over, before sighing again and hefting Yoshiyuki onto his back. He ran through the leftmost of the five, and hoped that it didn’t curl around like the caves under Nanaki’s home.
Five minutes of running in near full darkness proved that it didn’t. It also proved he hadn’t been going up.
Cloud stared out at the view, feeling so much younger than his twenty-one years. It was like looking out into the heart of the world, the Life-Stream itself welling up in a flare of Mako and boulders. The blond fighter stepped further out of the tunnel opening onto the ledge, looking up and around at the swirling green dotted with the occasional solid hunk of black-rock floating in space. [4]
At the bottom of what he could see, there floated an island suspended in the raging force of the Life-Stream. If he jumped he could make it. If he fell . . . Cloud turned around, preparing to leave. And it was the only reason he noticed the shadow descending over the rocks.
Instinct worked faster than thought, and he repulsed himself backwards by the sheer power of his leg muscles. The Planet was kind, he’d managed to arc out far enough to land on the island or another ledge below him. He looked up, seeing Masamune about to sheath herself into his skull, and brought up Murasame, bracing it with one hand on the blue-wrapped grip, and another on the blunt side of the blade.
And then Sephiroth was bearing down on him, with the power and fury of a mad world. The ground vibrated with the transition of his kinetic force into the solid rock. Cloud was pretty sure that there was now a six inch deep, two foot wide, divot under his feet, but he didn’t dare look down to confirm the sensation. A chuckle, and the 1st Class madman drew back. The blond dove to the side, rolled, got his feet under him, and launched himself up onto an overhanging ledge.
Another laugh, and Cloud spun, this time charging the Thundaga Materia he always carried with him. But the silveret seemed to no more feel it than he did the mystifying effect Cloud had added into his blade. But at least the ex-SOLDIER could feel the mental energy [5] needed to control such spells draining out of his once idol into him.
But it looked like Sephiroth could feel it too. He took his right hand--off hand--away from the grip, and took hold of the brown leather harness straps--Cloud couldn’t sheath most of his swords, and it had been standard practice in SOLDIER not to do so, just to strap the naked blades onto his back--crossing over his chest. And then his hand was suddenly, too suddenly, glowing red and angry, and Firaga bloomed in his azure vision, and sent him flying back into the glow of the Life-Stream.
He was pained to note that the Life-Stream here made for a rather effective wall. About two bruised ribs worth of pain. But he’d kept the grip on his sword, and dug the fingers of his off hand into the slick surface. A detached part of his mind took a moment to be stunned that he could touch and hold the green as if it was a solid. The rest of him mechanically followed survival instinct and training to get his feet under him again, and keep moving.
Masamune then embedded into the spirit-wall a hair’s breadth behind him.
Cloud launched himself up, found no boulders, and prayed to the Planet he wasn’t going crazy as he thought to run up the vertical plane of coalescing life energy. It was nice enough to let him, and put gravity on hold as he made some distance between himself and the Terror of Wutai. When he found another suspended boulder to leap to, Cloud jumped at the chance, summersaulting backwards in midair to it.
Sephiroth was just below him, eyes green and glowing Mako bright, the twisted grin on his face, the same one, the same one he had the night he killed everyone, the same one he used when he was so sure, so confident that he was about to have his kill, and--
In perfect slow motion as they drew closer, Cloud held out his off--left--hand, and activated Gravity. He smirked, feeling himself heal just the slightest bit as the attack hit. [6] Sephiroth fell earthward, and Cloud almost broke himself in half when he landed on the boulder. He took a minute to pat himself down, and see that none of the X-Potions in his inventory had broken. They were fine, as were the Turbo-Eathers, Phenix Downs, and lone Elixir. Too rare and precious for words, each of them had one to use as they saw fit for this fight.
But before he could make use of any curatives, a loud roar ripped through the air, signaling the other fighter’s disgust with the situation. Cloud got himself into a ready position, and closed up the pack before anything could be lost. Now he was at the top of the area, in the center of what footing the hunk of land had to offer him, with sight the only sense he couldn’t use to locate Sephiroth. He knew that man was probably still under him, and his perch blocked the man from view.
Readying himself, and straining his ears, he waited for the man’s attack. All too soon he could feel the vibrations of it running up his legs. Looking down, he feared for the worst, and moved just before Masamune managed to slice the ledge in half. However Cloud’s left leg was cut, a shallow wound to the outside, and then sprayed with debris from the rock he stood on. Sephiroth followed smoothly, turning his body to catch the blond mercenary with an off stroke. But Cloud already wasn’t there, having bounded away to the green wall, yet sliding towards Gaia’s core because of his unsteady footing. He ignored the dark stain covering his pant-leg. The terrible man wasn’t about to let him be for a quick Cure, so there was no reason to dwell on it yet.
Another boulder presented itself, and he leaped, happy to ready another attack. He looked up, casting Gravity again, on the off chance Sephiroth was too enraged to bother with avoiding the attack. Cloud felt the bleeding slow to a trickle, and then brought Murasame back up. Now, however, the once General was trying to grind him into the ground, and with a primal snarl, he kneed the blond in his gut. All the air rushed out of his lunges, before he was batted aside into a different hunk of sharpened rock, his back hitting first. He skidded across the surface, but still held his blade. The boy stood, shook his head and ringing temples, and brought up Murasame to block. But at the last second the sadistic silveret danced away.
Cloud growled at the feign, and tried to pinpoint where he would come from next. Which direction? Not from under him again, that would be too simple. Above? Behind? He whirled, blocking the attack that would have severed his sword arm. But there was still the fireball slammed into his face. He howled in agony, backing away a step. The flames danced for a moment before going out, but the damage to his eyes was already done. Now he needed to get away and heal before he was blinded permanently. And Sephiroth was still pressing his weight on Cloud’s sword.
“You make such interesting noises, Puppet.”
Cloud hissed, but said nothing.
“This is over, Puppet. Your band of merry fools are gone, already fed to the Life-Stream.”
“Lies!” Cloud put all his force into swinging the Buster Sword outward, its familiar weight a comfort in his hands. It was enough to push the demonic warrior away, that let him drop to his knees and just listen for the next attack. He dug into his pack anyway, pulling out an X-Potion. Something on top. The bottle felt like a Potion, but as long as it healed his body, his eyes would be fine. The other man was toying with him, a pale cat with a wounded mouse. He uncapped the drink and threw it back without tasting it.
Sephiroth slammed into his back, and he choked most of the liquid back up. His face smashed into the hard ground, and he heard the sickening crunch of it breaking. He made a sweep with his legs, and heard the madman jump away. Now to get his hands back on the Buster Sword, on something to use as a shield--with a thought, Barrier was up. Then there came a stabbing pain, in his outstretched arm, the burn of metal as Masamune was removed from him chasing it. Before he could respond, she sunk into his other, left, shoulder, shearing through bone. When the fallen angel took it upon himself to twist the blade, Cloud didn’t bother to hold back his screams.
* * * *
He jerked awake, hearing the sound of his own voice echoing in his ears. What . . . had . . . Cloud blinked his eyes, relieved to find that they could open, and that he could even look out upon the world. Was that a dream? He darted his eyes around the darkened room, finding it unfamiliar. Maybe they were at a new Inn? That was probably it. With a sigh, he bonelessly sunk down into the opulent bed.
Except . . . he didn’t.
Sapphire blue eyes flicked to the right. His arm was bound to the headboard! Looking the other way, so was his off arm. He kicked his feet, and found that they were bound too, to the footboard. And that the silk sheets were rubbing directly against his skin, including his most delicate areas.
Cloud flushed pink, and tried to flex against the bonds. He almost missed the sounds of the door opening.
A waterfall of shimmering silver faced him as Sephiroth backed into the room, and there was a soft ‘thunk’ and ‘click’ as the door was closed and locked. It was an affront to his pride, that the man had no fear of attack, no fear of the blond trying to strike out at his weak point. Cloud’s jailer turned, a tray balanced against his stomach, and both arms, and supporting a bowl that had the distinct scent of soup-based food about it.
“So, you’ve already regained consciousness. That’s good. Mother should only be served by the best tools.”
“I’m Not A Tool!” Cloud snarled out.
“Don’t act angry, Puppet.” Sephiroth strode across the room, before seating himself on a chair that was facing the blond’s bedside. “Mother and I forgive you for trying to fight us, so there will be no further discipline.” Now that the tray was on his lap, Cloud could see that it was indeed soup, and that the man even had utensils and napkins.
“Killing my friends was ‘disciplining’ me?” The ex-SOLDIER strained against the seemingly mundane leather straps holding him back from ripping the silver demon’s throat open.
“No, killing your friends was a lie. Without you leading them, I have nothing to fear. The girl will not call on Holy, knowing that I could kill you for such a slight. I surmise they will make a fool’s errand of your,” He paused, a strange light coming into his eyes, and a chuckle tinting his voice. “Rescue.”
Cloud shivered, and everything fell into place. His goal had been to kill Sephiroth. There were many ways to do that, but it was his only condition for victory. Meanwhile, the master tactician only had to worry about stopping them from carrying out Aerith’s plan, and that was a rather lax win condition by comparison. It explained why Sephiroth had worked hard, but subtly, to separate him from the pack, and why he would have avoided killing his friends. He didn’t need to waste the energy. He was using AVALANCHE against each other as bargaining chips, and decoys. He could go out and kill all of Cloud’s friends if the blond didn’t do what the man wanted, and the same man could kill the blue-eyed boy if they tried to stop Sephiroth permanently. Damn, Cloud had no way of seeing this coming, but it still hurt that he had fallen for it. The man had been so set on destroying everything. . .
He looked down, ready to brood over his situation, and saw a loaded spoon poised before his lips. Cloud blinked.
“Eat up, Puppet, you have to re-hydrate yourself.”
The young man leveled a stoney glare at his once idol.
“You can’t make me kill you in a fit of rage.” Sephiroth smiled sweetly. “And whether you struggle or cooperate, I will enjoy this victory.” He brought the spoon back up.
Cloud ran over everything he knew about Sephiroth in his mind, from before, and after, that fateful day. The General was not known for underhanded and, frankly, dishonest tactics. He was known for being clever. Lying and putting some form of poison into the food, after saying it was to help Cloud recover? No. Beating him to death with the spoon? More likely. Grabbing his head and lighting it on fire again until he was a charred mess not even Hojo could salvage for scraps? Second most likely way he’d die here, right after taking Masamune to his heart. . . or spleen if Sephiroth wanted to draw things out.
With a sigh, he opened his mouth, accepting the nourishment. Maybe he’d luck out, recover more strength than Sephiroth wanted, and escape that way.
“Ah, but then I could easily break the bones in your arms and legs, bring you back, truss you up, and heal you. . . If I felt like having you in pristine condition again.”
What? Was he speaking aloud? Sephiroth laughed, and looked at him with sparkling eyes. “No, Puppet, I’m in your head. . . . I have been since not so long after you first killed me.” [7]
Sapphire eyes widened at that, his mouth hanging open. The silveret placed in another spoonful of soup rather than allowing him the chance to retort. He swallowed obediently, and a flicker of a smile danced on the man’s lips. Cloud didn’t dwell on it, trying to get comfortable within his bonds. It occurred to him his legs were spread open, and his ankles were tied more to the bedposts than the footboard itself. The sheets and comforter, and other assorted bed coverings, were still shielding him from sight, so he felt reasonably comfortable. Until he realized Sephiroth had undressed him, and that must have been for a reason.
“I needed to clean you wounds. And you aren’t going to make it far from here, unnoticed, with no clothing on.” Another smirk.
Cloud glared, but opened his mouth for another spoonful.
He almost gagged it back up upon feeling Sephiroth brush his un-gloved fingers against his chin and bottom lip.
“Hush, Puppet.” For a moment, Cloud swore his eyes started to glow Mako green. “All is right with the world.”
For the life of him, Cloud couldn’t find any reason to doubt the sincerity in Sephiroth’s voice. So he smiled slightly, a smile that he could tell genuinely reached his fully dilated pupils, and opened his mouth for more soup. Sephiroth smiled more too, and all continued to be right with the world as he was given more soup.
Throughout the meal, his once idol continued to dispense small touches, and gestures of concern, be they just a brush of fingers over his lips, or a hand cupping his cheek, trailing down his neck, up into his hair, but every time Cloud started to feel uncomfortable, Sephiroth would murmur something and he would suddenly feel . . . safe and warm again.
On the last spoonful, the former General dragged the utensil against his pink lips. Cloud’s little tongue tentatively reached out after it, trailing along it for the last drop of broth. He flicked his tongue, working it over the curve, the inside of the arch, unknowingly straining towards the stem and the fingers holding it. This surely amused the silveret, for he started to chuckle. The sound distracted Cloud, causing him to look away from his goal.
“Time to clean up.” With that, the godly man set the tray, and other accouterments, off to the side.
The blond fighter resigned himself to the inevitable, as the man had cleaned him once already. The mattress dipped with the added weight of another human, and he looked up to find the silver menace already in close proximity to him.
“D-don’t you need water, and maybe something to actually clean me with?”
For an answer, Sephiroth chuckled, captured his chin in his hand, then tilted Cloud’s head back just so, leaned forward, and licked the corner of the young man’s mouth. The ex-SOLDIER recoiled, trying to pull away.
“No.” Sephiroth forced him to lock eyes. “Calm, Puppet. I won’t hurt you.” That gave Cloud a moment of pause. He knew the man was telling him the truth, but . . . something seemed . . off. If the silveret would just give him a moment to think about things, rather than continuing to kiss his jaw . . . although. . . that didn’t exactly feel bad. He shifted, letting the older male draw closer, and moved his head to properly receive those warm kisses being dropped onto his waiting lips.
The beautiful strategist gave a throaty purr, and Cloud felt pleasure and approval flood his senses. He whimpered, overwhelmed by the ideas, until the older man started to prod Cloud’s lips with his tongue, in a silent bid for entrance. The young blond gave it readily, opening wide for the dominating presence that pushed against his mind and body, and cocoon-ed them tightly in his hold. The silveret was through in his ruthless exploration of his mouth, even coaxing his own wetted muscle to twin and dance in sensual play.
Cloud felt the man’s fingers on his chest, trailing downward. It made him want to squirm, first to get away, and then to get more sensations after his keeper flicked one pert bud of pink flesh, sending shock-waves of amplified pleasure surging through his over-stimulated body. Cloud didn’t even notice that he’d started to lightly sweat from all of the attention, but it was becoming noticeable with the way his own oils changed the drag and friction of the silveret’s touches to his smooth-soft skin.
Those fingers continued to drag lower, down chest and abdomen, to play with the edge of the blankets. The other man’s mouth and lips worked tirelessly to keep Cloud’s mind occupied as the covering was pulled back, but the blond still noticed. But with all the wonderful attention being paid him, the fighter only hesitated a moment before he was filled with a loving confidence. So Cloud had no shame of being seen by the godly man. The silveret had picked him to be seen, after all.
Then those lips fell lower, down his body. They traced his mid-rift, paused over the lines and spaces of his ribs. The young warrior’s breath caught in his throat when he noticed green eyes looking back up at him. Sephiroth smiled, making his heart flutter wildly, before he dipped down, flicking wet attention into the blue-eyed boy’s navel. An explosive sigh fell from pale-pink lips, and Cloud writhed under the attention being paid his whole body. He suddenly wanted his arms free, so that he could tangle his hands in Sephiroth’s long flowing mane, to pull that talented mouth down where fervently wanted it to be.
But the silver savior was kind. As if reading Cloud’s very thoughts, he took pity on the boy, and nuzzled his way lower, taking the swollen head between his plump lips.
“A-AAH!” So warm! Sephiroth’s mouth almost burned with radiant heat.
The beautiful man began to kiss and suck on the salty treat in his care, reaching forth with one of his hands. The other went to keep Sephiroth upright, and the boy’s hips still. Strong, clever fingertips started to carde through the thicket of blond curls protecting the heavy balls just waiting to be massaged and fondled. And play Sephiroth did. He rolled the pair in one hand, working his lips lower, further along Cloud’s straining manhood.
Cloud himself was making a plethora of sounds. He moaned, cried out, implored that the silver general never stop his ministrations, and whined from the back of his throat. It wasn’t fair. Why wouldn’t his god let him touch him?
Sephiroth purred, and the sound reverberated up Cloud’s spine, to bounce around his mind, settling into the center, the core of him, wrapping his senses in pleasurable warmth. With a groan, he bucked up, trying to open his legs wider, offering himself up in supplication to the divine force pleasing him so benevolently. Yes, yes, he was right, Sephiroth was right and he didn’t need to touch him anymore than the man was willing to be touched.
He continued to tease and touch his prey, shifting from the side of the bed to between the willing blond’s legs. But his clothes were a bit of a bother, getting in the way of warmth and heat, and slick skin. So he decided that they were no longer needed, and winked them away, off of his body, and onto the chair by the bed. He smirked, satisfied with himself, and deep-throated the teen.
Cloud wailed in pleasure. “Please! I-I can’t! It’s too much, please, sir!” Then a string of curses spilled from his lips as his hot seed spilled from his body. The older man drank deep of his release, swallowing each drop, and milked him for more.
The blond sagged against his bonds bonelessly, a deliriously happy, and possibly somewhat silly, grin spread over his face. Mmm, Sephiroth was brilliant, perfect, wonderful, knowledgeable in so many ways. He could never ask for anything more than what the man would give him, as the silveret seemed to know him better than he knew himself.
That same man who was crawling up his lean frame. That same man who was staring into his eyes, smiling and leaning in to kiss him. The same man who was so warm against his thrumming body. The same man who was running his hands over his skin, touching, feeling him out in his most intimate places. Those strong, agile fingers that had ended the lives of so many unworthy were wet now, wet and searching, touching, tracing his opening. He whined again, still hating that he was being held down, and unable to play, to properly pleasure the man over him.
Sephiroth chuckled softly. “So persistent. . . . Patience, Puppet. Patience, and you will have your reward.” He kissed the blond again, inserting a single slim digit.
The younger man bucked again, taking the intrusion in as deep as it would go. Another purr rumbled against his lips, Sephiroth having leaned in to capture his mouth again. His body was already reawakening, shivering with new life and the way the sweat evaporated in the raw air of the heating room. His insides quivered when a second object was slipped into him. Then Sephiroth twisted those bedeviling fingers just so, starting to stretch and open him, to prepare him for the proper worship of his masterful lover.
The silveret suddenly switched to kissing his neck, free hand going to cradle the blond’s head. A breathy moan left the teen’s lips. With a final smirk, Sephiroth pushed a third finger in, and reached for that cluster of nerves which he knew would make the young thing howl for him.
And howl Cloud did. His whole body shook violently from the pleasurable assault on his self. He continued to moan, and murmur as he was stretched wide, legs and arms straining, constantly working to break the bonds holding him down so that he could draw Sephiroth closer to him, properly hold him against his body.
The older man chuckled again, pulling back to look into those dazed blue eyes. “I think you’re ready, Puppet. . .” With that he leaned away, to undo the belts holding lithe legs wide. Cloud almost immediately wrapped them around his waist and hips. This pleased Sephiroth greatly, but it was not exactly what he wanted. He took hold of Cloud’s ankles, and maneuvered the blond until both legs were thrown over his broad shoulders. Now the fighter was opened wide, fully exposed for his enjoyment.
And oh, how the man was going to enjoy his toy.
The silver beauty shifted until Cloud was in his lap, and the tip of him nudged the youth’s opening. Jade-green eyes looked up, seeing that his audience was still captivated by his actions. Another purr, and Sephiroth speared in.
Cloud threw his head back with a throaty groan. Having the other man inside of him was exquisite. It made everything else inside him pulse with delighted want. He did what he could to hasten his decent down the prolific length piercing his body, reaching into his soul. He could tell the silver god was pleased with his eagerness, and was rewarded with kisses being liberally dropped over his face and lips. It was perfect, a beautiful heaven like none Cloud could have dreamed up on his own: Sephiroth was sunk deep inside of him, filling him from both ends with the way he was paying attention to his mouth. He was held, and petted, and cared for, fawned over even, as the silver force inside him continued to radiate heat and lusting comfort into his body and mind.
Then Sephiroth shifted, pulling back, before rolling forward again.
Cloud’s vision of heaven was redefined.
The older man pulled back again, and started a brutal pace, arms wrapped around the blond’s torso. The boy pulled his mouth away to howl in delight, finding that everything was far more present, intense, than he’d ever thought it could be with the act. His body continued to be rocked with every hard movement and thrust Sephiroth made into and against him.
The bed-frame thundered against the walls, box-springs protesting every movement. Cloud found he didn’t care what the other people in the Inn would think. He had a savior to please.
Sephiroth bit down on the blond’s shoulder, marking him, and he angled his hips, shifting, questing for the same sport he had pleasured before, the one that would make the warrior submit to him completely.
Cloud’s back arched, forcing himself down. “Dammit!” He wanted more, and threw himself back against every one of the military man’s thrusts. His arms jerked, wanting to be free, to hold the god filling him with self-worth. But Sephiroth just hushed him, kissing his complaints away as he continued to pound them out of his mind.
Then there was a shift, and Cloud’s world almost seemed to collapse into one single sensation of pleasure.
Sephiroth smiled, having found what he was looking for. Another shift of his hips, and he bashed into the blond head on.
Another, louder, wail left Cloud then, and a string of babbled nonsense. It was too much, like Sephiroth was touching and stroking his insides, caressing all of his senses with pleasure and warmth. He tried to hold on, but ended up just swearing louder, shuddering and breathing hard. He felt so wonderfully, deliciously, hot inside, and keened in the back of his throat. Sephiroth continued to move inside him, through him, overtaking him, pulling him down into the maddening pleasure with him.
Then the man reached down to touch his starving body, and he was lost. Cloud gave himself up to the sensations flooding him, letting Sephiroth work his will through him, tangling his mind and soul around those strong nimble fingers. It was everything he could have wanted, needed, feeling the thickness throb and twitch inside him, filling him. He needed, craved, completion, but didn’t dare seek it before the masterful man was ready to be done with him.
“Beautiful Puppet . . . so obedient.” He kissed the blond, going back to nibbling on his neck as he continued to work Cloud’s length, and his own aching need. He plunged deep, twisting hard, and flicked his thumb over the leaking, pulsing head in his hand.
With a final shout, Cloud exploded, body going tight and rigid in Sephiroth’s lap.
The silveret continued to thrust inside him, until at last the carnal pressure reached the perfect fevered pitch, and he too fell into sweet oblivion. He bit down again when he spilled himself, filling the boy with his approval.
Cloud panted as he came down from his sexual high. His body still felt charged from all that had happened, mind buzzing with stray thoughts which couldn’t quite collect themselves. From beside him, or was it above him? Well, either way, he could hear Sephiroth chuckling again, as the silveret kissed him, paying attention to his shoulder.
“Mmm, I think you’ve earned a rest . . . Pet. So, sleep. Remember, no matter what, Mother and I treasure you. So, you must stay strong if you are to serve us.” And he dropped more kisses onto his little blond head.
It was with this overwhelming feeling of perfect contentment that Cloud drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
Cloud woke to a steady pounding echoing inside his head. With a groan, he groggily looked up to see that he was in a familiar room, and not the one he’d just dreamed about. The pounding continued. Cloud frowned, and shook his head, before looking up at the closed door. [8]
Oh. “Yeah?”
Tiffa opened the door without any hesitation. “Cloud! Aerith’s gone! She’s left to summon Holy!”
Owari~
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[1] Well this is part of what Cait Sith did for Zack, and Cloud has Zack’s memories so . . . . yeah fun.
[2] Why is there no revive series Materia in Crisis Core? Also, wanted to give Vinny Phenix Materia, but . . . well, you’ll read. And if it still doesn’t make sense, comment and I’ll find a way to answer.
[3] Or as we gamers call it, HP Plus Materia.
[4] Dissidia’s level for FF7. . . . Which I think was based off of the final fight with Sephy in the Northern Crater.
[5] How to call ‘MP’ anything but -that-, take one! Or . . . you know . . . Cloud has MP absorb linked to Lightning in this sword. . . . That he has always been using . . . since the beginning of the fiction . . . . What do you mean he started off with a 2 slot sword with a pink grip? Lies! LIES!! *Runs off*
[6] Because Gravity + HP Absorb is awesome. . . . even if Demi doesn’t work on bosses. . . . TRUST ME, THERE ARE REASONS BEHIND ALL OF MY ‘MISTAKES’. Just go with it for now, really.
[7] You know, and I know, Cloud didn’t remember he did that at the time. But I got a feeling that Crazy!roth never forgot--or why would he give a shit what AVALANCHE did after getting everything he needed for Meteor from them? And before you say Holy, I’ve found things that Invalidate the argument. Worst of all it comes from the game itself because, and I quote Red’s own lines from near the end of the game:
“It's too late for Holy. Meteor is approaching the Planet. Holy is having the opposite effect. Forget Midgar, we've gotta worry about the Planet!” Opposite. . . helping. . . . in the end, it’s the Lifestream/LifeStream--probably controlled/coaxed into action by Aerith (and Zack)--that stops Meteor. Yes people, if Seph had left her alive, he would have won. So *getting back on topic* consider Sephiroth’s comment part of artistic license.
[8] Yeah, when I started writing, I was going from memory. Then I started to replay FF7 on a ‘new’ PS2 that can read PS1 disks. Now I see all the things I got wrong, like originally Cloud was supposed to wake up in his room on the Highwind. So many inaccuracies. . . . Maybe I’ll do another version of this with less of them. @w@;;
A/N: I had started this before starting a play through of FF7, so I forgot Cait Sith’s true identity was exposed much later. Just go with it. *Sweatdrops* I can’t fix it without Cloud’s logic falling through, and then people would know this is a dream from the start.
Same with Holy and knowing what the City of the Ancients looks like. Part of it is suspension of disbelief. One could, however, argue that Jenova-roth/Sephi-nova is feeding information into Cloud’s head via his clone’s eyes and the prior knowledge that Mommy dearest has about the Cetra.
Yes. Sephiroth really did haxx into Cloud’s dream-talk with Aerith in the game canon. At the end. It’s why everyone went rushing off to protect her: because they thought he could get to her. You could say this is a ‘What If?’ where Sephiroth haxxz in, as per the game, but then takes it a step further with the long dream sequence.
And this is about the only kind of situation where I’m okay with the old, ‘it was all just a dream’, trick. I’m sorry if that switch at the end upset any of you, but it was the only way I could think to work in legitimate sexy-timez during the game-time.
Lastly, best wishes to SSCeles (of DA), because this fic was all for her. Hope you liked it!
As always people, feel free to review, and throw in your two cents about it.