FIC: Of Adoration
Title: Of Adoration
Word Count: 9,749
Pairing: Seph/Cloud
Rating: NC-17
Universe: Pre-game, AU
Summary: Sephiroth finds all is not as it seems in Nibelheim. Angst, Mindfuckery, Slash, AU
AN: ...It literally took me two weeks to write the dang smut. I am soooo not good at it.
****
Something was calling him…
His boots made no sound as they clambered up the rusted metal stairs of the abandoned reactor. No hum from the mako pods that contained monsters within. No sharp electric clap as his sword slapped against the steps, neglected by the hand that held it. Only the peaceful melodic notes of sweet promise… For a better life, for respect, for…he almost didn’t dare to think it…
Love…
Affection, tenderness, dulcet hope radiated from the poor creature trapped within the confines of the mako prison. She had once been so beautiful… She still was… He felt so small all of a sudden, like a feeble infant, compared to her - to her feline grace, her unrivaled beauty, and her infinite wisdom. To call such a creature…
Mother?
It seemed inconceivable. Yet underlying the maternal feelings was the aching longing for another. Too long she stayed in isolation. So alone for so long… Betrayed by the ones she cared for. Imprisoned for longer than he could imagine. She wanted to be his mother. She needed him…
I’m here for you
His hands pressed against the frozen glass, the shock of cold rippling over his skin before Mother’s gentle tendrils reached for him, warming him with their reassuring and delicate caresses. The underlying gratitude in each and every soft stroke made the feeble infant fall even weaker, wallowing in guilt and wondering how he could deserve the attention of so wondrous a being.
Then a single pet to his mind
The feeble infant retreated, not enough to wrench away from the warmth, but enough to show alarm. The warmth began to pull away, as though regretful, afraid she had overstepped her bounds. Hurt and anxiety, fear to be alone again.
NO!
In a bold move, he reached for her, pulling her towards him in a pathetic embrace. Please, no, don’t go. I’m sorry. I was just startled. Please stay. Please… The gentle warmth returned, almost hesitant. He smiled, opening up the layers to his mind, inviting her to it. Do as you will, Mother dearest.
I trust you with my very soul
Her entirety escaped from the hollow corpse and nestled safely within him. Their enchanted joining was their premature happily-ever-after. The feeble child was never more content, wrapped up in his Mother’s warmth: souls and minds entwined forevermore.
What would you like, my sweet child?
Her voice, so melodious, ripened with wizened years and soft yearning, stunned the already overwhelmed infant. More? There was more? No, this was already too much. He didn’t deserve all this. If he asked for more…
It will all go away
Dearest, you deserve more than this, my child. You deserve to have the entire world in your hands. Her crooning voice sent a ripple of pleasure through the emboldened infant. Just name it and it will be yours. Encouraged by Mother’s tender prodding, he timidly relayed the single word to her, not even daring to let the syllables spill from his lips.
A rich peal of laughter
Very well, my darling child. You shall have all you desire…
With a harsh gasp he awoke, his cat-slit eyes glowing in dark recesses of the night.
****
The General was even more distant than usual.
His troops were already so intimidated by the man’s ice-cold exterior. His speech was mere monosyllables, eyes always uncaring and apathetic to his own troops. His coldness even physically manifested itself in his flowing mercury hair, his snowy complexion, his towering height and most importantly his inhumane, emerald cat-slit eyes. Naturally, the seven foot blade that perpetually accompanied their leader was a justifiable deterrent. More enemies of ShinRa fell to that blade than any other in the history of warfare.
However, he ceased to speak altogether, resorting to mere huffs and grunts. Rather than ignoring his troops, he physically distanced himself from them. And whenever they weren’t looking at him, the regulars could feel his subzero eyes upon them, vengeful and accusing. In any case, it was a relief that the General seemed to be taking up residence in the abandoned mansion as of late and that his second in command was in charge of affairs now.
“Zax, is it alright if I go visit my mother?” one of the regulars asked timidly.
Zax of Gongaga, one of the most promising SOLDIERs in ShinRa Electric’s army, glanced over at the regular despite knowing who spoke. Running a hand through his long black hair, it took the 1st Class SOLDIER all of about two seconds to come up with answer. “Yeah, sure Spike! You go ahead,” he answered, his glowing violet eyes curling to smile at his small colleague. “Just be sure to report in tomorrow morning bright and early. No sleeping late at your girl’s house.”
The recruit merely nodded and fled, his reaction to that particular comment hidden away by his helmet and visor - to Zax’ disappointment. Oh well, he had better things to do than harass the lower ranks. Like check up on his wayward commander. “Alright, troops, you’re off duty for the rest of the night,” he ordered. “Just be sure to set up a…” Zax’ authoritarian voice trailed off as the men already were heading off to their own rooms, “…watch…”
Alright-y then. This was a small enough town. There was no need for a guard. What could possibly happen?
Instead of monsters, the raven haired SOLDIER was much more anxious over his mysterious commander’s state. When he visited the powerful man that morning, he almost didn’t make it past that solid adamantine door deep within the dungeons of the mansion. It had taken nearly an hour to convince the General to open the door for him and even then he refused to speak to his second in command.
A strange light twisted the familiarity in Sephiroth’s eyes and Zax, the only one that could get so near him, could not recognize his commander in those cat-slit depths. Something mad and strange lurked there instead, sending chills down the SOLDIER’s spine.
Treading quietly back to his own room, the man couldn’t wait until tomorrow. They had orders to leave tomorrow and there was no way that Sephiroth would refuse orders from ShinRa… no matter how strangely he was acting.
He hoped…
****
He couldn’t describe it. This…feeling, a desperate tightness in his chest that threatened to pick away at his sanity. No amount of research in his obsessive search for the truth would satiate it. He didn’t want the facts about his past. He already knew of those to some extent. He knew that he wasn’t like everyone else, that he spent his entire childhood in a lab, that he was no more than ShinRa’s pet. Those bitter thoughts burned him, but that was not what consumed him…
He wanted…desired…
Mother
The word rang like a single toll through his mind, forming a tangible idea out of the abstract emotions that raged within him for days. His emerald eyes lit upon the word JENOVA. The…thing hidden away in the reactor that he received his genes from, planted in a surrogate host, then extinguishing that host’s life as he left it. Sephiroth couldn’t help a grim chuckle as his eyes relayed over the information. He was just a parasite, wasn’t he?
“Come to me, Sephiroth.”
The General’s head snapped up, looking around for the voice. Only the eerie emptiness of the study greeted him, darkness creeping around the corners of the candlelight’s edge. No, there was no one here. He was sure of it.
There was also no doubting that he heard that voice. Unlike before, it was no specter of a thought. It was actually there. In the room. That effeminate tone echoed the melodic tune that haunted his dream. It beckoned him, the threat of manipulation ever imminent. Yet it felt so…
Right…
The call struck a cord within him in sync with his foreign feelings. And as soon as the presence was gone, the desperation in him returned an infinite fold, chilling his body until he felt almost too weak to move, yet rending his then unknown heart asunder through the fires of need.
He was going mad, wasn’t he?
His limbs, though they felt impossibly light, refused to move, the feeling and control he had within them withdrawn. Through sheer force of will, Sephiroth ignored the conflagration of desire that rendered his body immobile, his hands sluggishly reaching for the next journal.
Sephiroth…
NO! He was not going to listen! Slamming the moldy notebook open, annoyance flashed in the General’s eyes as he realized that he had happened upon the study of JENOVA’s history. Hm. How foolish. Apparently, the ‘alien’ came here to start a new civilization, only to be imprisoned by her new race. Just how old was that corpse in the reactor?
Sephiroth…
That call repeated itself; its tone rang undoubtedly sour, as though disapproving of Sephiroth’s thoughts. Perhaps JENOVA didn’t like to be referred to as an old corpse. The General let out a self-depreciating chuckle. He may as well admit he’s gone off the rocker, acknowledging that JENOVA was actually reading his thoughts.
A rush of wind flurried through the conclaves of the cavernous study out of nowhere, whipping the past the pages of trivial gossip and legend to the charts that analyzed the properties of the JENOVA material. The General’s cat-slit eyes widened, ignorant to the feeling of his strength returning to his limbs as he took in this new information.
Good Gods…
If even a fraction of this was true, if JENOVA held just a dosage of this power…
Sephiroth, come…
A green glow lit the room from an unknown facet, beckoning its prey to approach, ribbed along Sephiroth’s body as it passed through the numerous bookcases from the back of the cave. A cruel smirk writhed its way onto the General’s thin pale lips. His hand reached for his precious Masamune, notebooks forgotten as he strode towards the inviting light.
Common sense raged against him. There was no way he could be hearing the voice of a corpse. There was no way that very same corpse could empower him… This was all a trick in his sleep deprived mind. But for freedom…
For Godhood, Sephiroth was more than willing to shed the shackles of sanity.
You really know how to manipulate, don’t you? You witch, oh I mean, Mother… The unknown passage, hidden at long lengths by a sheet of rock, beckoned him into its emerald depths, and Sephiroth was ready to serve. Yes, serve. It was only natural that a man of his talents should follow only the most worthy master. He had been doing so his entire life.
And the General was more than willing when the end reward, fusing with the corpse’s body, would grant him power beyond any human’s wildest dreams. This was why he was different from everyone else, why he had to suffer at the hands of Hojo and the chains of ShinRa. This was the purpose of his maddening dreams, his sick desires. It culminated into his ascension into the realm of immortals.
Sephiroth was only too eager to follow this dance of destiny.
****
After what seemed like hours, the emerald tunnel opened up to blinding jade light. The thick stench of mako penetrated by the sharp odor of oil and steel. The humming of pods, clicks of metal workings, the groan of rust. Even though the jade beams stunned his cat-slit eyes, Sephiroth immediately sensed his current location.
The abandoned reactor.
Blinking the white-hot sensation away from his abused eyes, the General dimly realized that he was at the very bottom of the stairs that led up to JENOVA’s cell. Wayward pipes streamed alongside, framing the steps in an unnatural waterfall, frozen in metal. The pods that held the poor dead souls within bowed their heads before him, recognizing his newly discovered status as their God. As though they were his royal court in this palace of jade and metal water.
The unknown breeze kicked up once more, billowing his black leather coat, his royal cape, behind him. Already, Sephiroth could feel the tendrils of JENOVA’s power licking at his bare face and chest in unnatural worship. More than ever before, mutual need flared at the touch, a sick mockery of love coating their desire for power. They needed each other.
Sephiroth…
This is insane.
Squelching the last of his sanity, Sephiroth brought one foot up to the first step, ascending the stairs to take his rightful place by JENOVA’s side. Each echoing thud on metal, each small chink of polished steel on rust, a vital part of his coronation.
“Mother…”
He whispered, his emerald eyes glowing with desire.
“I’ve come for you…”
His gloved fingers stroked the sheet of metal that marked the gate to the throne room. It parted before him in a hiss of sliding metal that announced him to the queen, JENOVA, his birthright.
The very blood in his veins hummed with the rightness of this, a twisted grin.
Sephiroth, come to me…
The darkness fell away to the vision of JENOVA seated high above him, hidden away by a veneer of metal, a mere mask futilely attempting to portray her power.
Sephiroth…
Her call was stronger, enhancing his burgeoning thoughts of rebellion. It took all the General had not to run to her, instead forcing himself into a steady march to his mother’s prison. Sephiroth would free her, this tormented witch, his dying sire.
For a price…
“Mother, let’s take back the planet together…” The hum in his blood turned inquisitive and in response the smirk on Sephiroth’s face grew. His mother would soon find that her son could be just as manipulative as she…
“I have a good idea…Let’s go to the Promised Land…Mother.”
Promised Land?
The hint of alarm and confusion in JENOVA’s call fell to the wayside at Sephiroth’s adoring eyes, full of promise and admiration. “Mother…with your superior powers and knowledge, you should have become ruler of this planet…” I should be the ruler of this planet. “But those people…” the General hissed, his anger flaring at the memories of the Hojo, of ShinRa, of their countless indignities, “those useless people…They took away Mother’s planet from her hands.” They took away my birthright.
A wave of regret ran through the Prince’s bones, making him cringe and take a step back in his persuasions. Eyes firmly settled on his prize, his gloved hands planting themselves into the pathetic epithet, Sephiroth whispered, “But you don’t have to feel sorrow anymore. Come with me…” Do as I say…and I will give you everything you desire…Mother…
With a roar, the mask tore away from the true underbelly thrown off into the ravine of Mako below. Sparks of blue flew, twisting in erratic strands about their disturbed nests. The stench of the unnatural, of Mako and death, nearly sent the General reeling. Forcing his face to not twist in revulsion, Sephiroth gazed upon his birthright. A corpse indeed. Rotting limbs, alien protrusions, a cold blue sagging body, and lifeless violet eyes. If the Prince did not know what his Queen-Mother offered, he would have left in disgust and self-loathing.
“At last we meet…Mother…” the mercury haired General all but sneered.
Silence answered him. A silence that unnerved him.
Pressing his pale forehead against the glass, Sephiroth hissed, “It’s all right now…” Whether it was to reassure himself, or this corpse he didn’t know.
Silence.
His panic grew as he felt JENOVA’s presence receding from his blood. What was the meaning of this? Why did JENOVA call him all the way here? Was it not to rule the planet? What good was this bitch if she didn’t deliver! No, he needed her! He had to have her!
The General was near hysterics when the presence left entirely, leaving only a chilling, hollow ache, enfeebling him, turning his mind against itself as he desperately clung to the glass. The very last facets of his sanity leaving him. He felt so powerless, so vulnerable. Tears welled in Sephiroth’s eyes as he sunk to the cold metal floor, his mercury hair pooling about his shrunken form like water. No. This wasn’t happening. Why-?!
“Mother!”
“Don’t call her that.”
The voice was low and trembling, yet unsettlingly familiar… Blinking away his slow forming tears, Sephiroth leaned on his Masamune for support; turning to his would be assailant. What he saw nearly wrenched him from his panic in startlement.
A regular. Not even a SOLDIER. A mere grunt of the ShinRa army, obviously one that had tagged along on this mission. This one was even scrawnier than the rest of them, diminutive and weak. Though only his mouth and jaw were bare, from its wide and soft angles, the General could tell the regular couldn’t be older than fourteen or fifteen. Not even worth his time. He had to coax his mother back to him.
“Mo-” he began, pleading with the silent figure in the glass.
“She won’t answer,” the grunt interrupted. Sephiroth’s eyes flared with indignation, turning once more on the audacious brat. Below the helmet and visor, a rueful smile was just starting to form. “You are unworthy…”
What? How dare he…How dare this child speak to him in such a manner. He who knew nothing! His hand snaked to his Masamune, whipping out its obscene reach to prick the regular just under his unprotected chin. “You useless child!” The boy did not even flinch. “I am the chosen one! The one chosen to be the ruler of this planet!
“This planet…I will take it back from you fools and return to the hands of the CETRA.” Mother and I. “That is why I was born.” This is my birthright!
Narrowing his emerald eyes, Sephiroth dug the point of his Masamune deeper into the boy’s vulnerable jaw. “I am doing this all for mother…”
“You liar.”
The hair on the nape of the General’s neck stood on end as the regular hissed those words, both in fury and in dawning apprehension. There was something wrong with this boy; he was just as mad as he. “Mother is at peace now, Sephiroth,” he murmured, his visor beginning to glow from…behind the shield. “She wants none of those things. Not war, not the world. She only wanted your affection.” A single tear slid down the soft curve of the boy’s jaw, his lips trembling as his voice wavered with emotion.
“You only want to use her. You don’t even think of her as Mother.” The boy shook his head, only becoming more distressed as he spoke. “She was so lonely…If you had been here first…I-I think she might have actually…”
Tilting his blade to its flat side, Sephiroth forced the boy’s chin up. “How do you know all this?” he demanded softly, his emerald eyes attempting to peer through the veiled visor.
Slowly, the regular’s mouth widened into a soft smile. “Because…” he called softly, his so-young voice almost androgynous in tone, “I am Mother’s Chosen.” His gloved hand slowly lifted, strands of purple light bleeding from his veins, twisting about his curled fingers, twining together beyond that small hand until it was nearly five feet in length. Before Sephiroth could even tighten his fist about his Masamune, the light formed into an unearthly broad sword, pulsing with energy as though the boy’s very heart lay beating in his weapon.
JENOVA’s Chosen! Sephiroth sneered at the boy’s title. That was HIS title! “I will wrest that name from you in the blink of an eye,” he swore, steadying his Masamune above his head to attack the impudent child.
The General charged. His sword impaled the air which the soldier once occupied, stabbing at nothing, his cat-slit eyes looking around the throne room in confusion. Where was- Fire scorched his left bicep before Sephiroth could even sense his wound. Blood spilled readily down his arm, in drops then splatters on the cold steel floor. Another fluid slash of fire along his thigh. And the mercury haired SOLDIER couldn’t even so much as see his opponent. He cursed aloud, his Masamune hacked the air with sharp, ugly strokes, desperate to hit anything at all.
As his elegant sword arched upwards, the soles of two leather boots landed lightly on its razor-edge, just heavy enough to steady the blade and nothing more. Even injured, Sephiroth gaped at the child who so easily balanced on his blade, as light as a faery. He…wasn’t human…
“What are you?” Sephiroth whispered, his green eyes wide as he gazed upon the graceful boy, poised on the very edge of his sword.
Feeling the hostility drain from the tall intruder, the boy’s mouth formed into a small smile. Crouching along the sword’s edge, he leaned in towards Sephiroth secretively. “We were reunited, Mother and I, many years ago, when I was just a pup. No line divides us. I am Mother’s son and I am Mother. Our power and… our minds are one in the same.”
The androgynous voice still held its air of desperation, quiet and hushed, and had not the General been injured, he knew shivers would roll down his skin. “You’re insane.”
He’s insane, he thought self-depreciatingly. There is a boy sitting on top of your sword and you can’t even feel it!
A wry smile answered his accusation. “I suppose I’ll just have to give you proof then.” With a small hop, the gentlest pressure off of the Masamune, the mysterious boy jumped back up into the air and…stayed there. Suspended in the air, two hands raised themselves to the concealing helmet and visor. In one fluid motion, it was off, and the bulky helmet fell down to the wayside, possibly into the mako below. Sephiroth’s eyes didn’t follow it, his wide emerald eyes planted firmly on the small and delicate face above him.
He was right. The boy didn’t look a day over fourteen, but how did someone so young get into the army in the first place? The General found he hardly cared when faced with that exotic cut of blond hair, so much like a Chocobo’s plumes, the soft curve of the boy’s jaw and neck, the small grin and button nose. However, the real object of his attention lay in his…jade…cat-slit eyes, just a shade bluer than his own.
His breath wrought from him at that uncannily familiar yet alien face, Sephiroth’s mouth formed a moue to question the child, but before a syllable could fall from his lips, the tearing of fabric distracted him from his inquiry. The blue fabric on the boy’s back burst, six pristine white wings covered in newborn grime stretched up towards the pipeline ceiling. The General could swear that each wing, larger and more muscled that the boy himself, just touched the walls and roof of the throne room. Rushes of wind generated from a single beat of those massive wings. Power rippled from the shivering muscles, the soft down constantly vibrating like leaves in the wind. Ripping away the shredded cloth, the soldier exposed a solid chest that belonged on no fourteen year old. His form, though slender, was taut with toned muscles, not the underdeveloped flab of a prepubescent child, and white scars strewn over his alabaster skin granted over years of army training, though Sephiroth couldn’t imagine who would want to intentionally harm him.
Who could he possibly-
Wait.
Strife? Cloud Strife?! That little runt that followed his second in command everywhere?! How could the boy have so much power! Yet his hair was unmistakable. Sephiroth berated himself for not recognizing the 1st Class’ charge right away. But did the boy always have those eyes, mirror reflections of his own? Whenever the cadet was around, his face was always downcast - but the General could have sworn Zax said his eyes were blue.
There was only one explanation. Strife knew of his finding, spying on him in the study, knew the power that JENOVA would grant him. And being a native to this land he managed to make it to the abandoned reactor before Sephiroth could make it there. Then he somehow infused himself with that corpse with no consequence. Flames of jealousy erupted in the General, his mako-emerald eyes brightening in intensity as they narrowed on the powerful form above him. “You little- you stole Mother from me! You heard her call for me, but you-” His blossoming rage, shook his baritone voice, unable to wrap around a coherent sentence. “You pretended- You made her believe that you were me! That’s the only reason it would have- And you stole her!”
Spikes of golden hair tossed about as Cloud shook his head, his expression sad, almost pitying the older man. “You’re wrong Sephiroth. Mother and I were joined long, long ago.” His eyes seemed to glaze over with a blue hue, looking deeper into his own past. “I was just a child then. Tifa had just fallen off the cliff and I had run away. I knew I would be blamed. Everyone hated me, even my sire.” As he sighed, his jade-blue eyes closing in reminiscence, the wings shuddered and huddled closer to his form as though to reassure him. Braving his memories, the soldier continued. “I ran into the reactor for safety and…” a delighted smile crept onto his face, “I met Mother. She held me close, brushed away my tears and my terror. I was loved for the very first time in my life. And she was loved for the very first time in thousands of years. So we vowed to never let each other go, to be together forever…” His cat-slit eyes opened, falling upon the General, greener than Sephiroth had ever seen them, deeper and more earthly than his own. “…Ten years ago.”
Ten…years? Good Gods, he was still in Wutai in the wars all that way back, killing masses and making headlines. Granted he was still in his teens. But then why? If JENOVA didn’t want him, then why did it plague him for months? That odd restlessness that stole his sleep, ground his irritable bones, and only escalated as soon as he stepped in the village of Nibelheim. He would have dismissed the tale as pure lies; however, he couldn’t find it in himself to disbelieve that desperate sincerity in the boy’s eyes. “Why was I called?” Sephiroth demanded. “If I am so unwanted. So unworthy, then why was I lured here? Why did JENOVA call me?”
“I called you.”
Sephiroth blinked. “You?” he cried incredulously. Cloud answered his disbelief by drifting down to the floor, feathers trailing down on the ground like a wedding train as he stepped lightly over to the commander, his eyes burning in lust.
…Oh
An arrogant smirk that would have made the General proud twisted the boy’s lips as he sauntered up to the taller man. His enormous sword shifted and its violet beams slinked back into his veins. Tearing off his leather gloves, Cloud’s slight hands touched the wounds on the General’s arm and thigh, as gentle as rose petals, washing away hurt and joining sinews as he healed the wounds he himself inflicted. “You know…” the blond whispered, snatching Sephiroth’s attention back to his bowed head, “you were my hero all the way back when. I admired you, wanted to be like you, wanted to be close to you… So when Mother asked me what in all the world I wanted…”
The winged soldier gave a low chuckle, his hand lingering far too long on the older man’s thigh to be innocent. “I was so naïve then. Of course…I had no idea what a…” Cloud’s eyes whisked over the taller man’s body “…desirable man you would turn out to be. Or perhaps it’s just my blossoming teenage hormones.”
A growl rippled from deep in his throat as Sephiroth tore away from the smaller soldier’s touch. Hurt flashed in the boy’s jade eyes, which the General could not easily ignore. It spawned uncomfortable…things in him. A want to embrace him, a desire to soothe away that hurt. Where was it coming from? he wondered, alarm seeding in his heart. He didn’t hold so much as a single drop of affection in him, even for his joined-at-the-hip second in command. With a start, the mercury haired soldier realized that JENOVA was still there, in his veins, resentful and bitter. Apparently, Cloud wasn’t lying. Mother loved the little blond and promised her genetic child to her adopted child. And she would make due on that promise even if it meant controlling him.
Did the boy even realize any of this? What he was doing to his idol? Was it already too late the moment he laid his green eyes upon the boy’s unconcealed face?
No. No. And (considering that Sephiroth had not even thought about harming the boy while he was defenseless) a most definite Yes.
Water brimmed from Cloud’s cat-slit eyes, stalking closer to the commander until he backed the older man into the case that held JENOVA’s former host. “Sephiroth, why are you pushing me away?” he whispered, in wonder as much as horror, as though he couldn’t imagine that the older man wouldn’t want him. Then again, Mother was doing her damnedest to guarantee that her precious Cloud would have what he wanted. The General’s breathing shallowed, physically confined by the boy’s outspread wings, his heart unwillingly tightening at the pain etched in Cloud’s eyes, his body systematically being broken and manipulated by JENOVA. And all the while, something alien and bestial was growing inside of him, sparked by Cloud’s half-naked form and those luscious white feathered wings. Sephiroth had no idea whether or not it was his donor’s doing, and with flashes of intense alarm he found that he cared less and less.
The horror of being dominated was the only thought keeping the General sane.
And he was growing crazier by the minute.
“Sephiroth?” that so-young voice called, causing the mercury haired commander to wince, his eyes distinctly averted from the lithe and inviting form in front of him. “Sephiroth, look at me, please?” The uncertainty in Cloud’s voice could kill. “Are you angry? I-Is that why you won’t…? Oh Gods, Sephiroth, please don’t be mad. I’ll convince Mother. I’ll find some way for her to accept you, but please…” Gods no! The General wanted nothing to do with JENOVA anymore! Not if he was merely an offering, a gift to some inconsequential brat. However, all it took was one light touch from said inconsequential brat to make waves roll through the older man, the boy’s fingers softly touching his bicep (his clothed bicep at that).
A small hiccup. “Sephiroth. Just look at me. I want you so bad. It’s driving me mad.” Driving Cloud mad? What about him? The General froze as he felt that small unclothed body sidle up against him, brushes of skin against skin, soft strokes of Chocobo yellow hair tickling the underside of his vulnerable chin. So help him, Sephiroth already lost the will to push him away. Two slender arms snaked about his neck, accompanied by a heated rush of breath. “Sephiroth, please. I’m yours completely. Do what you will with me.”
The gears in the commander’s mind came to a screeching halt.
Wait…what? Shouldn’t Cloud, with all of JENOVA’s power and that annoying little ability to render him completely helpless, be…well…more insistent on dominating? He had all the advantages. Well fuck, if one was going to go through the trouble of fusing with JENOVA then…
…JENOVA…
The gears in the commander’s mind slowly began to reverse.
…JENOVA was female.
…Strife fused with her a decade ago.
…BEFORE he began to mature into a man.
The gears kicked up, quickly gaining speed.
Sephiroth’s emerald eyes sidled onto the willing body, clinging so helplessly to his neck, tears spilling from his gorgeous jade eyes as they search the General’s for approval, or at the very least, acknowledgement. “Sephiroth?” the boy inquired, his unrestrained expression echoing a small flash of hope, which the mercury haired commander found absolutely endearing. True, JENOVA could still be pulling his strings, but at this point Sephiroth did not give a damn.
“Sephi-” The General’s lips cut off the wondering plea, distracting the teenager completely when he delved into Cloud’s sweet, hot mouth. The wings shuddered, then stilled as the teenager responded in full to the bruising lips with a primordial need: as though everything he would ever desire revolved around the older man. Sephiroth fared no better with the human succubus, his hands roving the soft skin beneath his naked palms, feeling the power that shivered in the misleadingly frail form, arching like a cat responding to the sensual pets. The most powerful being in the world was begging for him to take him. Certainly not the ascension to godhood that the General was expecting, but it was infinitely more pleasurable. A ripple of delight ran down his pale skin as a soft moan, as soft as a dove, escaped the boy’s lips, spelling his own doom.
Part II
Word Count: 9,749
Pairing: Seph/Cloud
Rating: NC-17
Universe: Pre-game, AU
Summary: Sephiroth finds all is not as it seems in Nibelheim. Angst, Mindfuckery, Slash, AU
AN: ...It literally took me two weeks to write the dang smut. I am soooo not good at it.
****
Something was calling him…
His boots made no sound as they clambered up the rusted metal stairs of the abandoned reactor. No hum from the mako pods that contained monsters within. No sharp electric clap as his sword slapped against the steps, neglected by the hand that held it. Only the peaceful melodic notes of sweet promise… For a better life, for respect, for…he almost didn’t dare to think it…
Love…
Affection, tenderness, dulcet hope radiated from the poor creature trapped within the confines of the mako prison. She had once been so beautiful… She still was… He felt so small all of a sudden, like a feeble infant, compared to her - to her feline grace, her unrivaled beauty, and her infinite wisdom. To call such a creature…
Mother?
It seemed inconceivable. Yet underlying the maternal feelings was the aching longing for another. Too long she stayed in isolation. So alone for so long… Betrayed by the ones she cared for. Imprisoned for longer than he could imagine. She wanted to be his mother. She needed him…
I’m here for you
His hands pressed against the frozen glass, the shock of cold rippling over his skin before Mother’s gentle tendrils reached for him, warming him with their reassuring and delicate caresses. The underlying gratitude in each and every soft stroke made the feeble infant fall even weaker, wallowing in guilt and wondering how he could deserve the attention of so wondrous a being.
Then a single pet to his mind
The feeble infant retreated, not enough to wrench away from the warmth, but enough to show alarm. The warmth began to pull away, as though regretful, afraid she had overstepped her bounds. Hurt and anxiety, fear to be alone again.
NO!
In a bold move, he reached for her, pulling her towards him in a pathetic embrace. Please, no, don’t go. I’m sorry. I was just startled. Please stay. Please… The gentle warmth returned, almost hesitant. He smiled, opening up the layers to his mind, inviting her to it. Do as you will, Mother dearest.
I trust you with my very soul
Her entirety escaped from the hollow corpse and nestled safely within him. Their enchanted joining was their premature happily-ever-after. The feeble child was never more content, wrapped up in his Mother’s warmth: souls and minds entwined forevermore.
What would you like, my sweet child?
Her voice, so melodious, ripened with wizened years and soft yearning, stunned the already overwhelmed infant. More? There was more? No, this was already too much. He didn’t deserve all this. If he asked for more…
It will all go away
Dearest, you deserve more than this, my child. You deserve to have the entire world in your hands. Her crooning voice sent a ripple of pleasure through the emboldened infant. Just name it and it will be yours. Encouraged by Mother’s tender prodding, he timidly relayed the single word to her, not even daring to let the syllables spill from his lips.
A rich peal of laughter
Very well, my darling child. You shall have all you desire…
With a harsh gasp he awoke, his cat-slit eyes glowing in dark recesses of the night.
****
The General was even more distant than usual.
His troops were already so intimidated by the man’s ice-cold exterior. His speech was mere monosyllables, eyes always uncaring and apathetic to his own troops. His coldness even physically manifested itself in his flowing mercury hair, his snowy complexion, his towering height and most importantly his inhumane, emerald cat-slit eyes. Naturally, the seven foot blade that perpetually accompanied their leader was a justifiable deterrent. More enemies of ShinRa fell to that blade than any other in the history of warfare.
However, he ceased to speak altogether, resorting to mere huffs and grunts. Rather than ignoring his troops, he physically distanced himself from them. And whenever they weren’t looking at him, the regulars could feel his subzero eyes upon them, vengeful and accusing. In any case, it was a relief that the General seemed to be taking up residence in the abandoned mansion as of late and that his second in command was in charge of affairs now.
“Zax, is it alright if I go visit my mother?” one of the regulars asked timidly.
Zax of Gongaga, one of the most promising SOLDIERs in ShinRa Electric’s army, glanced over at the regular despite knowing who spoke. Running a hand through his long black hair, it took the 1st Class SOLDIER all of about two seconds to come up with answer. “Yeah, sure Spike! You go ahead,” he answered, his glowing violet eyes curling to smile at his small colleague. “Just be sure to report in tomorrow morning bright and early. No sleeping late at your girl’s house.”
The recruit merely nodded and fled, his reaction to that particular comment hidden away by his helmet and visor - to Zax’ disappointment. Oh well, he had better things to do than harass the lower ranks. Like check up on his wayward commander. “Alright, troops, you’re off duty for the rest of the night,” he ordered. “Just be sure to set up a…” Zax’ authoritarian voice trailed off as the men already were heading off to their own rooms, “…watch…”
Alright-y then. This was a small enough town. There was no need for a guard. What could possibly happen?
Instead of monsters, the raven haired SOLDIER was much more anxious over his mysterious commander’s state. When he visited the powerful man that morning, he almost didn’t make it past that solid adamantine door deep within the dungeons of the mansion. It had taken nearly an hour to convince the General to open the door for him and even then he refused to speak to his second in command.
A strange light twisted the familiarity in Sephiroth’s eyes and Zax, the only one that could get so near him, could not recognize his commander in those cat-slit depths. Something mad and strange lurked there instead, sending chills down the SOLDIER’s spine.
Treading quietly back to his own room, the man couldn’t wait until tomorrow. They had orders to leave tomorrow and there was no way that Sephiroth would refuse orders from ShinRa… no matter how strangely he was acting.
He hoped…
****
He couldn’t describe it. This…feeling, a desperate tightness in his chest that threatened to pick away at his sanity. No amount of research in his obsessive search for the truth would satiate it. He didn’t want the facts about his past. He already knew of those to some extent. He knew that he wasn’t like everyone else, that he spent his entire childhood in a lab, that he was no more than ShinRa’s pet. Those bitter thoughts burned him, but that was not what consumed him…
He wanted…desired…
Mother
The word rang like a single toll through his mind, forming a tangible idea out of the abstract emotions that raged within him for days. His emerald eyes lit upon the word JENOVA. The…thing hidden away in the reactor that he received his genes from, planted in a surrogate host, then extinguishing that host’s life as he left it. Sephiroth couldn’t help a grim chuckle as his eyes relayed over the information. He was just a parasite, wasn’t he?
“Come to me, Sephiroth.”
The General’s head snapped up, looking around for the voice. Only the eerie emptiness of the study greeted him, darkness creeping around the corners of the candlelight’s edge. No, there was no one here. He was sure of it.
There was also no doubting that he heard that voice. Unlike before, it was no specter of a thought. It was actually there. In the room. That effeminate tone echoed the melodic tune that haunted his dream. It beckoned him, the threat of manipulation ever imminent. Yet it felt so…
Right…
The call struck a cord within him in sync with his foreign feelings. And as soon as the presence was gone, the desperation in him returned an infinite fold, chilling his body until he felt almost too weak to move, yet rending his then unknown heart asunder through the fires of need.
He was going mad, wasn’t he?
His limbs, though they felt impossibly light, refused to move, the feeling and control he had within them withdrawn. Through sheer force of will, Sephiroth ignored the conflagration of desire that rendered his body immobile, his hands sluggishly reaching for the next journal.
Sephiroth…
NO! He was not going to listen! Slamming the moldy notebook open, annoyance flashed in the General’s eyes as he realized that he had happened upon the study of JENOVA’s history. Hm. How foolish. Apparently, the ‘alien’ came here to start a new civilization, only to be imprisoned by her new race. Just how old was that corpse in the reactor?
Sephiroth…
That call repeated itself; its tone rang undoubtedly sour, as though disapproving of Sephiroth’s thoughts. Perhaps JENOVA didn’t like to be referred to as an old corpse. The General let out a self-depreciating chuckle. He may as well admit he’s gone off the rocker, acknowledging that JENOVA was actually reading his thoughts.
A rush of wind flurried through the conclaves of the cavernous study out of nowhere, whipping the past the pages of trivial gossip and legend to the charts that analyzed the properties of the JENOVA material. The General’s cat-slit eyes widened, ignorant to the feeling of his strength returning to his limbs as he took in this new information.
Good Gods…
If even a fraction of this was true, if JENOVA held just a dosage of this power…
Sephiroth, come…
A green glow lit the room from an unknown facet, beckoning its prey to approach, ribbed along Sephiroth’s body as it passed through the numerous bookcases from the back of the cave. A cruel smirk writhed its way onto the General’s thin pale lips. His hand reached for his precious Masamune, notebooks forgotten as he strode towards the inviting light.
Common sense raged against him. There was no way he could be hearing the voice of a corpse. There was no way that very same corpse could empower him… This was all a trick in his sleep deprived mind. But for freedom…
For Godhood, Sephiroth was more than willing to shed the shackles of sanity.
You really know how to manipulate, don’t you? You witch, oh I mean, Mother… The unknown passage, hidden at long lengths by a sheet of rock, beckoned him into its emerald depths, and Sephiroth was ready to serve. Yes, serve. It was only natural that a man of his talents should follow only the most worthy master. He had been doing so his entire life.
And the General was more than willing when the end reward, fusing with the corpse’s body, would grant him power beyond any human’s wildest dreams. This was why he was different from everyone else, why he had to suffer at the hands of Hojo and the chains of ShinRa. This was the purpose of his maddening dreams, his sick desires. It culminated into his ascension into the realm of immortals.
Sephiroth was only too eager to follow this dance of destiny.
****
After what seemed like hours, the emerald tunnel opened up to blinding jade light. The thick stench of mako penetrated by the sharp odor of oil and steel. The humming of pods, clicks of metal workings, the groan of rust. Even though the jade beams stunned his cat-slit eyes, Sephiroth immediately sensed his current location.
The abandoned reactor.
Blinking the white-hot sensation away from his abused eyes, the General dimly realized that he was at the very bottom of the stairs that led up to JENOVA’s cell. Wayward pipes streamed alongside, framing the steps in an unnatural waterfall, frozen in metal. The pods that held the poor dead souls within bowed their heads before him, recognizing his newly discovered status as their God. As though they were his royal court in this palace of jade and metal water.
The unknown breeze kicked up once more, billowing his black leather coat, his royal cape, behind him. Already, Sephiroth could feel the tendrils of JENOVA’s power licking at his bare face and chest in unnatural worship. More than ever before, mutual need flared at the touch, a sick mockery of love coating their desire for power. They needed each other.
Sephiroth…
This is insane.
Squelching the last of his sanity, Sephiroth brought one foot up to the first step, ascending the stairs to take his rightful place by JENOVA’s side. Each echoing thud on metal, each small chink of polished steel on rust, a vital part of his coronation.
“Mother…”
He whispered, his emerald eyes glowing with desire.
“I’ve come for you…”
His gloved fingers stroked the sheet of metal that marked the gate to the throne room. It parted before him in a hiss of sliding metal that announced him to the queen, JENOVA, his birthright.
The very blood in his veins hummed with the rightness of this, a twisted grin.
Sephiroth, come to me…
The darkness fell away to the vision of JENOVA seated high above him, hidden away by a veneer of metal, a mere mask futilely attempting to portray her power.
Sephiroth…
Her call was stronger, enhancing his burgeoning thoughts of rebellion. It took all the General had not to run to her, instead forcing himself into a steady march to his mother’s prison. Sephiroth would free her, this tormented witch, his dying sire.
For a price…
“Mother, let’s take back the planet together…” The hum in his blood turned inquisitive and in response the smirk on Sephiroth’s face grew. His mother would soon find that her son could be just as manipulative as she…
“I have a good idea…Let’s go to the Promised Land…Mother.”
Promised Land?
The hint of alarm and confusion in JENOVA’s call fell to the wayside at Sephiroth’s adoring eyes, full of promise and admiration. “Mother…with your superior powers and knowledge, you should have become ruler of this planet…” I should be the ruler of this planet. “But those people…” the General hissed, his anger flaring at the memories of the Hojo, of ShinRa, of their countless indignities, “those useless people…They took away Mother’s planet from her hands.” They took away my birthright.
A wave of regret ran through the Prince’s bones, making him cringe and take a step back in his persuasions. Eyes firmly settled on his prize, his gloved hands planting themselves into the pathetic epithet, Sephiroth whispered, “But you don’t have to feel sorrow anymore. Come with me…” Do as I say…and I will give you everything you desire…Mother…
With a roar, the mask tore away from the true underbelly thrown off into the ravine of Mako below. Sparks of blue flew, twisting in erratic strands about their disturbed nests. The stench of the unnatural, of Mako and death, nearly sent the General reeling. Forcing his face to not twist in revulsion, Sephiroth gazed upon his birthright. A corpse indeed. Rotting limbs, alien protrusions, a cold blue sagging body, and lifeless violet eyes. If the Prince did not know what his Queen-Mother offered, he would have left in disgust and self-loathing.
“At last we meet…Mother…” the mercury haired General all but sneered.
Silence answered him. A silence that unnerved him.
Pressing his pale forehead against the glass, Sephiroth hissed, “It’s all right now…” Whether it was to reassure himself, or this corpse he didn’t know.
Silence.
His panic grew as he felt JENOVA’s presence receding from his blood. What was the meaning of this? Why did JENOVA call him all the way here? Was it not to rule the planet? What good was this bitch if she didn’t deliver! No, he needed her! He had to have her!
The General was near hysterics when the presence left entirely, leaving only a chilling, hollow ache, enfeebling him, turning his mind against itself as he desperately clung to the glass. The very last facets of his sanity leaving him. He felt so powerless, so vulnerable. Tears welled in Sephiroth’s eyes as he sunk to the cold metal floor, his mercury hair pooling about his shrunken form like water. No. This wasn’t happening. Why-?!
“Mother!”
“Don’t call her that.”
The voice was low and trembling, yet unsettlingly familiar… Blinking away his slow forming tears, Sephiroth leaned on his Masamune for support; turning to his would be assailant. What he saw nearly wrenched him from his panic in startlement.
A regular. Not even a SOLDIER. A mere grunt of the ShinRa army, obviously one that had tagged along on this mission. This one was even scrawnier than the rest of them, diminutive and weak. Though only his mouth and jaw were bare, from its wide and soft angles, the General could tell the regular couldn’t be older than fourteen or fifteen. Not even worth his time. He had to coax his mother back to him.
“Mo-” he began, pleading with the silent figure in the glass.
“She won’t answer,” the grunt interrupted. Sephiroth’s eyes flared with indignation, turning once more on the audacious brat. Below the helmet and visor, a rueful smile was just starting to form. “You are unworthy…”
What? How dare he…How dare this child speak to him in such a manner. He who knew nothing! His hand snaked to his Masamune, whipping out its obscene reach to prick the regular just under his unprotected chin. “You useless child!” The boy did not even flinch. “I am the chosen one! The one chosen to be the ruler of this planet!
“This planet…I will take it back from you fools and return to the hands of the CETRA.” Mother and I. “That is why I was born.” This is my birthright!
Narrowing his emerald eyes, Sephiroth dug the point of his Masamune deeper into the boy’s vulnerable jaw. “I am doing this all for mother…”
“You liar.”
The hair on the nape of the General’s neck stood on end as the regular hissed those words, both in fury and in dawning apprehension. There was something wrong with this boy; he was just as mad as he. “Mother is at peace now, Sephiroth,” he murmured, his visor beginning to glow from…behind the shield. “She wants none of those things. Not war, not the world. She only wanted your affection.” A single tear slid down the soft curve of the boy’s jaw, his lips trembling as his voice wavered with emotion.
“You only want to use her. You don’t even think of her as Mother.” The boy shook his head, only becoming more distressed as he spoke. “She was so lonely…If you had been here first…I-I think she might have actually…”
Tilting his blade to its flat side, Sephiroth forced the boy’s chin up. “How do you know all this?” he demanded softly, his emerald eyes attempting to peer through the veiled visor.
Slowly, the regular’s mouth widened into a soft smile. “Because…” he called softly, his so-young voice almost androgynous in tone, “I am Mother’s Chosen.” His gloved hand slowly lifted, strands of purple light bleeding from his veins, twisting about his curled fingers, twining together beyond that small hand until it was nearly five feet in length. Before Sephiroth could even tighten his fist about his Masamune, the light formed into an unearthly broad sword, pulsing with energy as though the boy’s very heart lay beating in his weapon.
JENOVA’s Chosen! Sephiroth sneered at the boy’s title. That was HIS title! “I will wrest that name from you in the blink of an eye,” he swore, steadying his Masamune above his head to attack the impudent child.
The General charged. His sword impaled the air which the soldier once occupied, stabbing at nothing, his cat-slit eyes looking around the throne room in confusion. Where was- Fire scorched his left bicep before Sephiroth could even sense his wound. Blood spilled readily down his arm, in drops then splatters on the cold steel floor. Another fluid slash of fire along his thigh. And the mercury haired SOLDIER couldn’t even so much as see his opponent. He cursed aloud, his Masamune hacked the air with sharp, ugly strokes, desperate to hit anything at all.
As his elegant sword arched upwards, the soles of two leather boots landed lightly on its razor-edge, just heavy enough to steady the blade and nothing more. Even injured, Sephiroth gaped at the child who so easily balanced on his blade, as light as a faery. He…wasn’t human…
“What are you?” Sephiroth whispered, his green eyes wide as he gazed upon the graceful boy, poised on the very edge of his sword.
Feeling the hostility drain from the tall intruder, the boy’s mouth formed into a small smile. Crouching along the sword’s edge, he leaned in towards Sephiroth secretively. “We were reunited, Mother and I, many years ago, when I was just a pup. No line divides us. I am Mother’s son and I am Mother. Our power and… our minds are one in the same.”
The androgynous voice still held its air of desperation, quiet and hushed, and had not the General been injured, he knew shivers would roll down his skin. “You’re insane.”
He’s insane, he thought self-depreciatingly. There is a boy sitting on top of your sword and you can’t even feel it!
A wry smile answered his accusation. “I suppose I’ll just have to give you proof then.” With a small hop, the gentlest pressure off of the Masamune, the mysterious boy jumped back up into the air and…stayed there. Suspended in the air, two hands raised themselves to the concealing helmet and visor. In one fluid motion, it was off, and the bulky helmet fell down to the wayside, possibly into the mako below. Sephiroth’s eyes didn’t follow it, his wide emerald eyes planted firmly on the small and delicate face above him.
He was right. The boy didn’t look a day over fourteen, but how did someone so young get into the army in the first place? The General found he hardly cared when faced with that exotic cut of blond hair, so much like a Chocobo’s plumes, the soft curve of the boy’s jaw and neck, the small grin and button nose. However, the real object of his attention lay in his…jade…cat-slit eyes, just a shade bluer than his own.
His breath wrought from him at that uncannily familiar yet alien face, Sephiroth’s mouth formed a moue to question the child, but before a syllable could fall from his lips, the tearing of fabric distracted him from his inquiry. The blue fabric on the boy’s back burst, six pristine white wings covered in newborn grime stretched up towards the pipeline ceiling. The General could swear that each wing, larger and more muscled that the boy himself, just touched the walls and roof of the throne room. Rushes of wind generated from a single beat of those massive wings. Power rippled from the shivering muscles, the soft down constantly vibrating like leaves in the wind. Ripping away the shredded cloth, the soldier exposed a solid chest that belonged on no fourteen year old. His form, though slender, was taut with toned muscles, not the underdeveloped flab of a prepubescent child, and white scars strewn over his alabaster skin granted over years of army training, though Sephiroth couldn’t imagine who would want to intentionally harm him.
Who could he possibly-
Wait.
Strife? Cloud Strife?! That little runt that followed his second in command everywhere?! How could the boy have so much power! Yet his hair was unmistakable. Sephiroth berated himself for not recognizing the 1st Class’ charge right away. But did the boy always have those eyes, mirror reflections of his own? Whenever the cadet was around, his face was always downcast - but the General could have sworn Zax said his eyes were blue.
There was only one explanation. Strife knew of his finding, spying on him in the study, knew the power that JENOVA would grant him. And being a native to this land he managed to make it to the abandoned reactor before Sephiroth could make it there. Then he somehow infused himself with that corpse with no consequence. Flames of jealousy erupted in the General, his mako-emerald eyes brightening in intensity as they narrowed on the powerful form above him. “You little- you stole Mother from me! You heard her call for me, but you-” His blossoming rage, shook his baritone voice, unable to wrap around a coherent sentence. “You pretended- You made her believe that you were me! That’s the only reason it would have- And you stole her!”
Spikes of golden hair tossed about as Cloud shook his head, his expression sad, almost pitying the older man. “You’re wrong Sephiroth. Mother and I were joined long, long ago.” His eyes seemed to glaze over with a blue hue, looking deeper into his own past. “I was just a child then. Tifa had just fallen off the cliff and I had run away. I knew I would be blamed. Everyone hated me, even my sire.” As he sighed, his jade-blue eyes closing in reminiscence, the wings shuddered and huddled closer to his form as though to reassure him. Braving his memories, the soldier continued. “I ran into the reactor for safety and…” a delighted smile crept onto his face, “I met Mother. She held me close, brushed away my tears and my terror. I was loved for the very first time in my life. And she was loved for the very first time in thousands of years. So we vowed to never let each other go, to be together forever…” His cat-slit eyes opened, falling upon the General, greener than Sephiroth had ever seen them, deeper and more earthly than his own. “…Ten years ago.”
Ten…years? Good Gods, he was still in Wutai in the wars all that way back, killing masses and making headlines. Granted he was still in his teens. But then why? If JENOVA didn’t want him, then why did it plague him for months? That odd restlessness that stole his sleep, ground his irritable bones, and only escalated as soon as he stepped in the village of Nibelheim. He would have dismissed the tale as pure lies; however, he couldn’t find it in himself to disbelieve that desperate sincerity in the boy’s eyes. “Why was I called?” Sephiroth demanded. “If I am so unwanted. So unworthy, then why was I lured here? Why did JENOVA call me?”
“I called you.”
Sephiroth blinked. “You?” he cried incredulously. Cloud answered his disbelief by drifting down to the floor, feathers trailing down on the ground like a wedding train as he stepped lightly over to the commander, his eyes burning in lust.
…Oh
An arrogant smirk that would have made the General proud twisted the boy’s lips as he sauntered up to the taller man. His enormous sword shifted and its violet beams slinked back into his veins. Tearing off his leather gloves, Cloud’s slight hands touched the wounds on the General’s arm and thigh, as gentle as rose petals, washing away hurt and joining sinews as he healed the wounds he himself inflicted. “You know…” the blond whispered, snatching Sephiroth’s attention back to his bowed head, “you were my hero all the way back when. I admired you, wanted to be like you, wanted to be close to you… So when Mother asked me what in all the world I wanted…”
The winged soldier gave a low chuckle, his hand lingering far too long on the older man’s thigh to be innocent. “I was so naïve then. Of course…I had no idea what a…” Cloud’s eyes whisked over the taller man’s body “…desirable man you would turn out to be. Or perhaps it’s just my blossoming teenage hormones.”
A growl rippled from deep in his throat as Sephiroth tore away from the smaller soldier’s touch. Hurt flashed in the boy’s jade eyes, which the General could not easily ignore. It spawned uncomfortable…things in him. A want to embrace him, a desire to soothe away that hurt. Where was it coming from? he wondered, alarm seeding in his heart. He didn’t hold so much as a single drop of affection in him, even for his joined-at-the-hip second in command. With a start, the mercury haired soldier realized that JENOVA was still there, in his veins, resentful and bitter. Apparently, Cloud wasn’t lying. Mother loved the little blond and promised her genetic child to her adopted child. And she would make due on that promise even if it meant controlling him.
Did the boy even realize any of this? What he was doing to his idol? Was it already too late the moment he laid his green eyes upon the boy’s unconcealed face?
No. No. And (considering that Sephiroth had not even thought about harming the boy while he was defenseless) a most definite Yes.
Water brimmed from Cloud’s cat-slit eyes, stalking closer to the commander until he backed the older man into the case that held JENOVA’s former host. “Sephiroth, why are you pushing me away?” he whispered, in wonder as much as horror, as though he couldn’t imagine that the older man wouldn’t want him. Then again, Mother was doing her damnedest to guarantee that her precious Cloud would have what he wanted. The General’s breathing shallowed, physically confined by the boy’s outspread wings, his heart unwillingly tightening at the pain etched in Cloud’s eyes, his body systematically being broken and manipulated by JENOVA. And all the while, something alien and bestial was growing inside of him, sparked by Cloud’s half-naked form and those luscious white feathered wings. Sephiroth had no idea whether or not it was his donor’s doing, and with flashes of intense alarm he found that he cared less and less.
The horror of being dominated was the only thought keeping the General sane.
And he was growing crazier by the minute.
“Sephiroth?” that so-young voice called, causing the mercury haired commander to wince, his eyes distinctly averted from the lithe and inviting form in front of him. “Sephiroth, look at me, please?” The uncertainty in Cloud’s voice could kill. “Are you angry? I-Is that why you won’t…? Oh Gods, Sephiroth, please don’t be mad. I’ll convince Mother. I’ll find some way for her to accept you, but please…” Gods no! The General wanted nothing to do with JENOVA anymore! Not if he was merely an offering, a gift to some inconsequential brat. However, all it took was one light touch from said inconsequential brat to make waves roll through the older man, the boy’s fingers softly touching his bicep (his clothed bicep at that).
A small hiccup. “Sephiroth. Just look at me. I want you so bad. It’s driving me mad.” Driving Cloud mad? What about him? The General froze as he felt that small unclothed body sidle up against him, brushes of skin against skin, soft strokes of Chocobo yellow hair tickling the underside of his vulnerable chin. So help him, Sephiroth already lost the will to push him away. Two slender arms snaked about his neck, accompanied by a heated rush of breath. “Sephiroth, please. I’m yours completely. Do what you will with me.”
The gears in the commander’s mind came to a screeching halt.
Wait…what? Shouldn’t Cloud, with all of JENOVA’s power and that annoying little ability to render him completely helpless, be…well…more insistent on dominating? He had all the advantages. Well fuck, if one was going to go through the trouble of fusing with JENOVA then…
…JENOVA…
The gears in the commander’s mind slowly began to reverse.
…JENOVA was female.
…Strife fused with her a decade ago.
…BEFORE he began to mature into a man.
The gears kicked up, quickly gaining speed.
Sephiroth’s emerald eyes sidled onto the willing body, clinging so helplessly to his neck, tears spilling from his gorgeous jade eyes as they search the General’s for approval, or at the very least, acknowledgement. “Sephiroth?” the boy inquired, his unrestrained expression echoing a small flash of hope, which the mercury haired commander found absolutely endearing. True, JENOVA could still be pulling his strings, but at this point Sephiroth did not give a damn.
“Sephi-” The General’s lips cut off the wondering plea, distracting the teenager completely when he delved into Cloud’s sweet, hot mouth. The wings shuddered, then stilled as the teenager responded in full to the bruising lips with a primordial need: as though everything he would ever desire revolved around the older man. Sephiroth fared no better with the human succubus, his hands roving the soft skin beneath his naked palms, feeling the power that shivered in the misleadingly frail form, arching like a cat responding to the sensual pets. The most powerful being in the world was begging for him to take him. Certainly not the ascension to godhood that the General was expecting, but it was infinitely more pleasurable. A ripple of delight ran down his pale skin as a soft moan, as soft as a dove, escaped the boy’s lips, spelling his own doom.
Part II