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I don't know how many of you have read Outside Looking In, but here is one of the companion pieces I said I would write. I hope you enjoy it.
FF7, Sephiroth/Zack/Cloud
Author: GW Katrina aka![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
icedark_elf
Title: Powerless
Warning: Hints of non-con. Just some, but enough I felt I should warn you all.
Powerless
He is powerless.
The military isn’t really his, it belongs to Shinra, who can take it away at a moments notice. His body isn’t his own, it is taken to the lab too often for him to claim it as his. Sometimes he wonder if his thoughts were his own, or if they were just rhetoric imbedded into his head since his birth and the labs;
But this, this was his.
The First Class had been his since he had seen the boy as part of the passing cadets into the SOLDIER program. All of fifteen, bright, vibrant, he had caught Sephiroth’s attention. Twenty two at the time, he had been the General of Shinra’s military long enough that when he requested certain people to his office, the most that happened was that the person’s friends and squad mates offered their condolences and said they would be waiting with supplies. Usually, when Sephiroth asked to see someone, he thought they were either a bad influence that needed to be dealt with, or they had potential, and needed to be dealt with. Both usually ended up with a great deal of bruising, as Sephiroth’s favorite method of dealing with things was to spar.
But that wasn’t why he had called the boy in. He had called him in simply because the boy had caught his eye. It had to be the ridiculous hair, spiky black hair, the complete opposite of Sephiroth’s own. Then, when he had pulled the boy’s file, he had seen that picture looking back, violet eyes glaring off the paper bright and defiant.
And they had glowed that night as well. It was the glow of the early Mako treatments, and it wasn’t defiance that was in them. At least not alone. There was fear as well, and that should have made him stop. But he couldn’t, and he had been more than a little rough with the boy that night.
He tried to make up for it later on, but nothing seemed to make that fear go away fully, and he discovered something.
He liked the fear there.
When it had almost vanished, he did something else, like coming up and shoving the boy into an empty room and taking him then and there, with little regard for what he wanted. Or sparring with him, then, when he was hurt and bleeding, forcing the boy to swallow him down until he was choking, and take his mouth.
There was power there, and he tried not to use it often, for fear that it would lose its power, be weakened, and he would have lost the one thing that was really his.
The rest of the time, between the times he made the fear rise up again, he cared for the boy, delighted in his presence, even if he didn’t show it clearly.
And the boy got better, got faster, got stronger. He climbed the ranks faster than anyone besides Sephiroth himself ever had, becoming a Second Class, then First within two years.
Finally, Sephiroth installed the boy in as his second, and had access to him whenever he wanted.
That made the power fade some. Familiarity and constant exposure lessened the impact he had on the boy, and he realized the boy wasn’t so much a boy anymore, but someone who was seventeen, and was growing a man.
He still brought the fear to his eyes, but he was more content to simply absorb the affection and care the boy gave him when he wasn’t afraid.
So Sephiroth went hunting again.
It was his similarity in hair to the boy that drew his attention to the newest one. This child was even younger than Zack had been, barely fourteen, all spiky blond hair and bright blue eyes.
He sounded so much like Zack that first night, when he had simply taken him in the office, without bothering to ask. And, when he looked at Zack that night, he had seen the fear there once again.
They were his, his boy and his child. His power laid in the fear and affection they had for him, and he would not let another touch them. He knew that they comforted each other occasionally, in the darkness of the night. But that was more than fine.
He did have power. All he needed to reach it was to come up on them too fast from behind, or simply look at them in a certain way.
He had power, and he had something that was his alone. Their fear was for him, and he would never let another have it.
FF7, Sephiroth/Zack/Cloud
Author: GW Katrina aka
icedark_elfTitle: Powerless
Warning: Hints of non-con. Just some, but enough I felt I should warn you all.
He is powerless.
The military isn’t really his, it belongs to Shinra, who can take it away at a moments notice. His body isn’t his own, it is taken to the lab too often for him to claim it as his. Sometimes he wonder if his thoughts were his own, or if they were just rhetoric imbedded into his head since his birth and the labs;
But this, this was his.
The First Class had been his since he had seen the boy as part of the passing cadets into the SOLDIER program. All of fifteen, bright, vibrant, he had caught Sephiroth’s attention. Twenty two at the time, he had been the General of Shinra’s military long enough that when he requested certain people to his office, the most that happened was that the person’s friends and squad mates offered their condolences and said they would be waiting with supplies. Usually, when Sephiroth asked to see someone, he thought they were either a bad influence that needed to be dealt with, or they had potential, and needed to be dealt with. Both usually ended up with a great deal of bruising, as Sephiroth’s favorite method of dealing with things was to spar.
But that wasn’t why he had called the boy in. He had called him in simply because the boy had caught his eye. It had to be the ridiculous hair, spiky black hair, the complete opposite of Sephiroth’s own. Then, when he had pulled the boy’s file, he had seen that picture looking back, violet eyes glaring off the paper bright and defiant.
And they had glowed that night as well. It was the glow of the early Mako treatments, and it wasn’t defiance that was in them. At least not alone. There was fear as well, and that should have made him stop. But he couldn’t, and he had been more than a little rough with the boy that night.
He tried to make up for it later on, but nothing seemed to make that fear go away fully, and he discovered something.
He liked the fear there.
When it had almost vanished, he did something else, like coming up and shoving the boy into an empty room and taking him then and there, with little regard for what he wanted. Or sparring with him, then, when he was hurt and bleeding, forcing the boy to swallow him down until he was choking, and take his mouth.
There was power there, and he tried not to use it often, for fear that it would lose its power, be weakened, and he would have lost the one thing that was really his.
The rest of the time, between the times he made the fear rise up again, he cared for the boy, delighted in his presence, even if he didn’t show it clearly.
And the boy got better, got faster, got stronger. He climbed the ranks faster than anyone besides Sephiroth himself ever had, becoming a Second Class, then First within two years.
Finally, Sephiroth installed the boy in as his second, and had access to him whenever he wanted.
That made the power fade some. Familiarity and constant exposure lessened the impact he had on the boy, and he realized the boy wasn’t so much a boy anymore, but someone who was seventeen, and was growing a man.
He still brought the fear to his eyes, but he was more content to simply absorb the affection and care the boy gave him when he wasn’t afraid.
So Sephiroth went hunting again.
It was his similarity in hair to the boy that drew his attention to the newest one. This child was even younger than Zack had been, barely fourteen, all spiky blond hair and bright blue eyes.
He sounded so much like Zack that first night, when he had simply taken him in the office, without bothering to ask. And, when he looked at Zack that night, he had seen the fear there once again.
They were his, his boy and his child. His power laid in the fear and affection they had for him, and he would not let another touch them. He knew that they comforted each other occasionally, in the darkness of the night. But that was more than fine.
He did have power. All he needed to reach it was to come up on them too fast from behind, or simply look at them in a certain way.
He had power, and he had something that was his alone. Their fear was for him, and he would never let another have it.