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Title: Bleeding skies 02: Calling part 1
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Sephiroth/Cloud
Rating: R for violence
Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters belong to me, I’m not making any profit from writing this. Just fun.
Warnings: violence, angst. Slash – male/male relationships. Spoilers – be prepared for everything.
Summary: Like it or not, he needed the blond. So now that he had acquired the boy, he was going to make sure to bind him in all the possible ways.
Word Count: 1800


Part 1

He woke up on an unfamiliar bed, still dressed, his head humming with a thousand hurts. Looking around left him even more confused. He was in a small, cozy room consisting of the bed he was laying on, coved in furs that tickled his skin, a small chest of drawers, and a huge fireplace crackling with fine. The white walls were oddly curved, almost luminescent, but it was the sight of the white wood beside the fireplace, the almost luminescent quality of it that nudged his memory.

The City of Ancients.

He sat up on the bed, letting his feet fall on the cold floor.

His head hurt, his eyes hurt and he couldn’t really remember what was doing here.

He still had his sword harness on, but his sword was nowhere to be seen. It was terrifying, being without the sword he carried for so long.

But what was he doing here? He tried to remember but the headache spiked, centering on his eyes, making him groan. He tried pressing the palms of his hands into his burning eyes, but it didn’t help.

Time seemed to escape from him, because the next thing he knew he was walking barefooted through the empty, white halls of the Ancient’s building towards… something. Something that pulled at him.

The first thing he seemed to notice as he stepped into the large room was the light.

Green light flooding the large, empty space from the pool situated in the middle of it. A pool filled with Lifestream, the oddly lit water shimmering and curling in mystical forms… and in the middle of that, submerged waist deep was a painfully familiar person.


Cloud could feel something in him whimper, screech with confusion and pain… before it too, slipped away. Like his memory.

The green light was casting odd shadows at that painfully perfect face. The General’s eyes were closed, head lowered in a gesture so very familiar and his hands were cupped almost gently around a single shard of materia that pulsed and glowed unlike any materia Cloud saw before. It would flare brightly for a moment and then dim until it was dark and dull, lifeless almost.

Something inside him whined at Cloud, screamed that it wasn’t right, that it should be bright and full of life… it felt familiar, like a memory on the edges of his mind.

But it all faded in the simple presence of the Silver General. As the man raised his head, the silver hair falling back in a silky wave and opened his eyes.

Green eyes, glowing as much as the Lifestream, with pupils elongated and slit like a cat’s stared at him without expression.

“Sephiroth.” He whispered, stunned by the sheer presence of the man all over again.

“Cloud,” acknowledged the man that was supposed to be twice dead already, and moved out of the pool.

Cloud stared, in a kind of horrified fascination as his nemesis started moving towards him, hands closing over the strange materia and hiding it out of sight. Not only was Sephiroth fully clothed, the trademark coat and sword harness criss-crossing his naked chest, but he was also fully armed.- the Masamune resting along his back while Cloud was completely unarmed. The older man moved with grace and power, leaving the pool of pure Lifestream as if it was air, untouched and unconcerned.

He didn’t even realize that he was backing up with every step Sephiroth made until the man stopped and tilted his head in what appeared to be curiosity.

“What are you doing here?” He managed finally, hating the way his nemesis made him feel, so young and weak and so very terrified, pain squeezing his chest so badly he wondered if he had broken ribs. His eyes also hurt. “Jenova is gone.”

The man smirked, oddly pleased.

“Yes, that she is.” He paused, approaching Cloud a bit more. “However while she was a big part of me, she wasn’t everything.”

The blond stopped backing up when he felt his shoulders hit the wall.

“Why…” He started but was interrupted by the older man.

“You are bleeding.” Sephiroth reached out to him and Cloud flinched instinctively, his body all too aware of the pain this man was capable of.

Sephiroth paused, an odd expression crossing his face, something that looked almost like frustration.

“Do not fear me”

Cloud had an incredible urge to laugh at that moment. The request was so damn ridiculous.
He hated the fact that he was unarmed, his sword nowhere to be seen. While he was fairly confident that he could take Sephiroth in a swordfight, this felt different.

First, he never really fought the man wholly sane before. While Jenova was powerful, she wasn’t really complicated, almost one-dimensional. She had only one goal and she had Sephiroth to achieve it. Sometimes, Cloud wondered why it was so… easy to defeat Sephiroth. A whole nation of Wutai could not defeat the famed General, and he with a bunch of friends managed what so many others couldn’t? The man had much more experience, tactical knowledge than all of AVALANCHE put together yet they could follow him so easily…

It was so obvious now, that he looked into the familiar face. Sephiroth was still as beautiful, as otherworldly as he was used to. But this man had more personality in him than the puppet controlled by Jenova. His eyes with slit pupils were hard to read, their inhumanity distorting whatever emotion the man was feeling. Yet his body language was different. It almost reminded him of the man he knew through Zack all those years ago in Shinra. If there was one thing Cloud remembered of the Silver General that seemed the most… odd… to Cloud it was how careful he was, all too aware of potential damage that he could deal to those unenhanced.

Now, watching the man watch him with inscrutable eyes, Cloud saw the same kind of control, containment, that was such a big part of Sephiroth before all hell broke loose.

“Why?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him. “Why did you intervene… before?”

*    *    *

The silver-haired man dragged his eyes very slowly over Cloud, measuring him, weighing him in a way that made Cloud’s heart stutter. From the dark clothes, over the bare arms so different from the scrawny teenager he used to know, through the long neck that was perfect and unmarked up into the face that was both familiar and not.

“You were slipping away.” Came the simple answer.

Sephiroth was rather distracted. Being close to the boy made him feel oddly unsettled. He was aware that he didn’t have all of his memories, didn’t even have most of them. He also knew that there were some memories… that were not his. Odd, foreign, yet almost familiar memories that filled the void inside him temporarily, letting him hold onto that little bit of sanity he managed to preserve so far.

He didn’t remember feeling this... need in himself before, but he could no longer trust his memory. As he watched the strong, compact body smelling so strongly of mako, he felt something inside him stir. Something powerful, foreign but not threatening.

Ever since coming back to life he was guided by flashes of insight from the odd materia. It was the same presence that filled the gaps in his mind, in his soul, giving him time to heal himself. Time to rebuild.

That same presence fanned his need this time, making him see the blond man as someone... interesting.

He needed Cloud Strife, his instincts screaming at him that the man was necessary for his survival. The blond has whatever it was that Sephiroth needed. So now that he had acquired the boy, he was going to make sure to bind him in all the possible ways.

Sephhiroth reached out to touch that golden skin, unmarked, stretched so tightly over the surprisingly vulnerable line of neck for such a powerful warrior. Oddly enough the image of this blond man with beautiful face and alluring strength kept overlying with an image of a young teenager, all huge eyes and gangly arms, staring at him with emotions in his eyes that were simply incomprehensible to the silver-haired man.

The blond flinched when his fingers reached the slender neck, and tensed.

The heat of his body woke something in Sephiroth. With a small smile, he reached deep inside himself where he hid all those things he managed to free from Jenova. He gripped the control of remaining Jenova cells and Called, his control firm and unyielding. The cells might have once belonged to Jenova, but now they were his and only his to control.

It was most pleasing, to watch as the blue eyes dilated suddenly and the muscles that held so much power relaxed, making the boy almost slide down the wall. He caught the blond before he fell and hissed at the intensity of their contact.

It was exhilarating to have someone powerful enough to defeat him in an outright battle so submissive in his arms. The exhilaration, the odd need that had kept on beating at his mind for hours upon hours ever since he awoke turned into something less complicated. Something familiar, something he associated with the presence he could never remember, could never truly grasp.


Sexual desire.

His body reacted sharply to the nearness of the blond, heating up and hardening, the scent of warm flesh, blood and mako stirring his sex in an almost violent need.

For a brief moment it angered him, this lack of control, and he briefly considered taking out his frustration on the cause of such feeling but as soon as the thought entered his mind, the materia in his bracer warmed up.

...not hurt…





The urge for violence passed quickly under the unforgiving need, leaving only desire to possess, to claim, to bind the blond to him with bonds that could never be broken.

He could feel him fighting the Call, fighting to free himself from the urge, the need to submit to please, to just be close. It made him impatient, and still oddly reluctant to hurt the boy.


He would satisfy his curiosity and also make sure he didn’t cross a line he didn’t see. It wasn’t like he was cruel or evil. He knew human emotions and could recognize them in others. However it often required a level of empathy that he simply lacked.

Sephiroth was however always aware of his shortcomings and unlike most humans, he didn’t try to deny them. He simply worked around it.

Calling again and feeling an unexpected surge of heat as he watched the blond go boneless in his arms, eyes rolling back and knees giving out. As the long-haired man lowered them both to the floor he turned towards one of the many shadowed entrances to the chamber, towards the vague flash of movement there.

He realized that if left to his own devices he could damage the pretty toy beyond repair. So to counteract his lack, he brought along somebody better equipped to deal with that aspect of human psyche.

“Yazoo, come.”

The end of part 1

AN: smexing in the next installment, too sick today to write it.

AN2: the numbered installments (Bleeding Skies 01, 02 etc) mean that those stories go in order. Those without numbers are free standing, out of order things.
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