Warning: This story includes male/male sexual intercourse, as well as non-consensual sex and mind control. It is intended for mature readers.

Author's note: I debated for a long time whether or not to post this here, because of the subject matter. I generally avoid posting fanfics with sex scenes on this site, because some of the sex scenes I write are VERY explicit. But I do not believe this is any more so than some of the other stories I have read on ff net, and it remains one of the pieces of writing I am most proud of. Somebody described it as a 'Jenova bad-touch fic' and that does seem like the best way to sum it up.

It was not easy to write. I was given a prompt of 'Sephiroth/Cloud, lost in translation', and was all prepared to write something about miscommunication. Then this idea took over my head. And when I realised where it was going, I stopped writing, because I don't like to write non-consensual sex. I think people trivialise rape a great deal in fanfiction, and I didn't want to do that. Although it is sexual in nature, rape is not a sexual crime; it is one of violence and control. Unfortunately, the idea wouldn't go away, and I ended up writing it to get it out of my head. Then I spent three days deciding if I was even going to show anybody. Previously, it's only been posted to my LJ. And I am proud of it, because it wasn't easy. Leaving aside the difficulties with capitalisation and pronouns (which drove me crazy as I tried to get them right), the story was one I felt very strongly about.

And so if I haven't scared you off, here it is.


Nestled within the Northern Crater, surrounded by a bubble of tainted mako, Sephiroth's body hung quiescent, waiting. It had taken considerable effort to bring it here, to a place where She felt strong, with the Cetra's precious 'Lifestream' resisting Her efforts despite the contamination within it, but Jenova felt a smug sense of satisfaction. She had Her Son, and although another yet another attempt had been made to destroy Her, She now had more freedom than She'd had in centuries.

It was true that part of Her body had been destroyed at Nibelheim. But that body had been a prison, the crystallisation preventing Her from multiplying the way she should. She still felt keenly the loss of cells, pieces of Her, but they were not gone; instead they lingered in the Lifestream, and although they were too small for Her to reach, one day they'd multiply and spread, and they'd be reunited again.

Another part of Her body was still intact, with the scientist Hojo, who would continue to free Her precious cells from their crystalline prison and give them organic material within which they could grow and multiply, as they should. One day they'd all be reunited, but for now, She had a special reunion for the one who was most precious to Her.

Yes, Her Son was with her once again, Her cells floating through his blood, his body. Despite everything else that had happened at Nibelheim, the beginning of Their Reunion had still taken place. She'd awoken him to the truth of things, to his purpose, his destiny. Together they'd destroy this miserable rock that thought it could hold Her, and sail among the stars. But there was still a separation between them, the result of all those years apart, and She needed to learn him, to become closer. So She wove Herself into his thoughts and dreams, stroking intangible fingers through his hair in a mimicry of half-remembered caresses so long ago, and feeling the memories – his memories - that stirred in an almost immediate response.

Sephiroth felt something disturb the long bangs that framed his face – just a light touch, something so soft it tickled more than anything. He opened sleepy eyes to see blue ones staring back at him; they held an odd combination of fascination and happiness that made a smile tug at his own lips. He hadn't seen Cloud look happy all that often. But then those eyes widened, and he looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You didn't," Sephiroth replied. He hadn't been quite asleep yet, just revelling in the feeling of lazy relaxation that came after a round – or two – of truly satisfying sex. Cloud had pulled his hand back though, as if touching was something he shouldn't have done. Sephiroth wondered if there was some obscure social rule he was missing. It seemed to him that, as much as they'd touched each other earlier, it shouldn't suddenly be something taboo now.

"I just – I wanted to touch it," the blond admitted. "That sounds silly, doesn't it? But it's so long and pretty, I just wanted to know what it felt like. Not that I'm saying you're pretty, that's for girls and you're you, and that's much more than pretty, I'm sorry, this just keeps sounding worse, doesn't it?" By the time his voice tapered off, Cloud was red-faced and miserable. He'd pulled back at first from the pillow they shared, and then sat up to draw away further. The way that he shrunk back, the look in his eyes, made Sephiroth think of someone expecting a blow.

His lips tightened at the thought, and Cloud flinched.

Sephiroth pushed himself up on one elbow, and wondered what to say to make this better. He was starting to understand why Zack was so protective of the blond trooper; he was feeling a little of it himself. But he wasn't good with words, and so in the end, he reached out, and grasped one of Cloud's arms by the wrist. Then, slowly enough for it to seem unthreatening, he tugged it towards him, placing it so Cloud's hand was once again touching the long strands of hair. "It's alright," was all he said, and hoped it was enough.

After a moment's hesitation, Cloud stroked careful fingers along its length. Sephiroth leaned into the caress slightly, before letting his head sink back to the pillow. To his delight, Cloud continued to stroke, each touch gentle and wondering.

"Do you mind if I ask why you keep it so long? It seems a bit… impractical. For fighting and things."

Sephiroth's lips quirked. "It is. But when I was a child somebody – I'm not quite sure who anymore – told me it was pretty." He sighed. "I refused to cut it after that. Drove Hojo wild – he was going to sedate me and cut it all off once, and I destroyed half the lab making my objections known. President ShinRa ordered him to leave it alone if it was going to cause so much trouble, and then made it clear that all the costs of repairs were coming out of Hojo's personal research budget."

It was one of the happier memories of his childhood, both because he'd actually won a battle to have control over something, and because it had upset Hojo so much. But he'd kept it all those years because of those words, not Hojo's reaction. He wished he could remember who it was who'd told him that his hair looked pretty. It had been something he held onto when the tests and experiments, and later the battles, made him feel less like a person and more like a thing. Something that made him feel real. Even though it had been hugely inconvenient at times. He'd spent over an hour washing the mud out of it the first time he came back from Wutai.

"After Wutai, of course, I was a public figure, and the PR people love it." Sephiroth smiled wryly. They'd probably riot if he suggested cutting it. ShinRa liked good PR; it made it that much easier to do whatever they wanted.

It was a pity that he couldn't remember who had said it, just a vague memory of a female voice, warm, friendly, and the words, "You have such pretty hair; I think I'm jealous." Sephiroth, who'd spent all his life in a lab, was more used to people thinking of him as some kind of glorified lab animal or even, as he'd heard a pair of techs whispering to each other, a freak. The idea that there was anything about him that other people would envy was a new one, and he'd hugged that thought to himself more times than he could count. 'I have pretty hair' wasn't much of a consolation when Hojo was railing over his latest test results or his opponent was looking at him with horrified eyes, but it was something that nothing to do with his utility as a weapon or specimen.

Now, he thought as he let his eyes drift closed, he could think of this as well; Cloud's blushing, stammering explanation that it was pretty and he just wanted to touch it, the feel of his fingers trailing through it, the look of wonder and happiness in his eyes when Sephiroth allowed it.

It should have felt odd to allow anyone this degree of intimacy, but it didn't. Not with Cloud. Sephiroth thought that those eyes of his were probably the reason. They were painfully honest. He'd spent a long time learning to hide his feelings; however great his efforts, all of Cloud's feelings were reflected there in those big blue eyes. A little nervous, but determined as he tried a new technique. Intent and admiring as he watched Sephiroth and Zack spar. Worried and stubborn as he pointed out that Sephiroth had been doing paperwork all day, and hadn't stopped to eat. One look could make Sephiroth feel ten feet tall, or fill him with a strange sense of warmth. He never doubted that Cloud saw him as a person.

But his favourite look was one that was just a bit shy, desire and wonder and happiness and gratitude warring with each other for a place. Perhaps that was what made Cloud so different; he never assumed anything, never demanded, but was content with any scraps of attention he got. It did make Sephiroth feel just a little angry and protective, but at the same time it was what let Cloud past all his usual defences. Even when that look took on a slightly worshipful edge, it was still nothing like the others –

Others? Jenova prodded.

Sephiroth stood on the dais as Heidegger addressed the latest batch of recruits. It was a large group, the rolls buoyed by sensationalised coverage of the Wutai campaign and his role in it.

The longer he stood there, the more uncomfortable he felt. Although it was Heidegger who spoke, it was him they watched, so many eyes staring at him, avid and worshipful. They were demanding gazes that said they knew what he was: their so-called 'hero of Wutai'. As his own eyes skimmed over them without settling, he could see an almost toxic mixture of emotions directed towards him: envy, lust, possessiveness and avarice that made him feel like he did when faced with Hojo or President ShinRa. Something to be owned. And he was supposed to be their commanding officer? He wondered what Hojo, his 'creator', would say if he told him the new recruits scared him.

He supposed it was marginally better than the looks he'd seen on the faces of his opponents. Fear, horror, revulsion. He'd seen it all, and had revised his definition of himself from 'lab animal' to 'monster'. Given the direction Hojo's research was taking now, he wasn't certain it was such a stretch.

There was some satisfaction to be found in the recent turn of events, however. His… fame, however much he disliked it, meant he was no longer solely under Hojo's dominion. There were other calls on his time, and he welcomed the respite from endless tests and experiment, even as he could see the resentment on Hojo's face every time he walked back out of the lab. The man who had made so much of his 'childhood' a living hell no longer had full control of his favourite toy. It had restructured his view of the world, to realise that Hojo did not, in fact, own him. That privilege belonged to President ShinRa, the man with the money to fund Hojo's bizarre experiments. And it had taken only a few encounters to realise that President ShinRa was afraid of him.

They don't own you, Jenova asserted. Such small insignificant beings, it is presumptuous of them to think they can make any demands upon one such as you. You are My Son, and We are Gods.

This didn't get quite the response She felt such a declaration deserved. If She'd had a physical form, She would have frowned. Instead, She turned her attention back to Sephiroth's memories, trying to better understand his motivations. She'd discovered at Nibelheim her ability to control him was not as absolute as She'd believed it would be. They were still too separate; two beings who were joined rather than two beings who were one. She would have to learn more before She knew enough to get past those final barriers, to fully absorb everything that was Sephiroth.

But the memory of the small blond creature was… interesting. She remembered him. A flicker of anger ran through Her, and She felt an answering flinch from Sephiroth.

I'm not angry at you, She soothed. You are My Son. What happened was not your fault.

Although it was quite possible it was, if it was his habit of keeping the blond creature close that allowed that fiasco to occur. The moment of Her triumph, Her Reunion, marred by some weak creature that simply didn't know enough to die when killed… It was an outrage. But he did hold a prominent place in Her son's thoughts so She probed further, seeking to find out what about this pathetic creature could shake the hold She had on Sephiroth's mind.

Sephiroth sucked in a harsh breath as hot, wet heat closed around him. A tongue stroked long the underside of his cock, playing with the sensitive spot just beneath the head; then half his length was swallowed, and he groaned as Cloud sucked firmly. When he finally pulled back there was the barest scrape of teeth, just enough to tease, then he swallowed him down again.

He tried to keep his fingers from tugging too much on the soft blond strands beneath their grip, but it was hard. When he looked down, he could see Cloud's lips stretched around him, and his hips gave an involuntary buck. Cloud pulled back for a moment then went straight back to work, a look of intense concentration on his face.

He was still watching when blue eyes opened and rolled upwards to look at him, to see his reactions rather than simply hear and feel them.

Sephiroth knew that some considered this act distasteful; even more considered it unequal. But the expression in Cloud's eyes was oddly content, eager to please.

"Cloud," he warned, trying to move his head back, "I'm going to -"

Cloud pulled his head back far enough the head popped free. "Yessss," he breathed, before taking him in once again.

Sephiroth's eyes widened. But he didn't have time to say anything as white lightning exploded upwards from the base of his spine.

When he could think clearly once again, he looked down to see Cloud licking traces of white from his lips.

"You didn't have to do that," he pointed out.

Cloud shrugged. "I wanted to. Did you like it?"

"Very much," Sephiroth admitted with a smile.

Cloud smiled back, a look that was oddly shy given what he'd just been doing, and rested his head against Sephiroth's thigh. "Then that's what's important."

There were other such incidents, and Jenova wondered if perhaps Her Son had more of Her instincts than She'd first thought. It was a crude method, to be sure, but there was an exchange of genetic material, and it did somehow seem to bind the blond closer. The element of physical pleasure was not something She'd really considered. It had been a long time since She'd had a physical body, but perhaps She'd have to explore the possibilities of such a thing more carefully in the future. After all, Her Son had the most perfect body that could be made, and it would be foolish of Her not to utilise that in every way possible.

Sephiroth looked at the flushed face in front of him through heavy-lidded eyes. Cloud's skin was flushed with colour, blue eyes glazed and half-blind in their pleasure.

But he was not unaware. He clung to him, arms, legs wrapping him close and holding him tight, voice moaning brokenly, "Sephiroth," and there was something uniquely pleasurable in knowing that even when he was driven past all coherent thought, Cloud still never forgot just who it was that he was with. It was Sephiroth that made him feel like this, Sephiroth that he cried out for, that he clung to as thought he never wanted to let go.

It wasn't as if they'd never done it other ways, and he had a definite fondness for the sight of that lithe form bent over his desk, but this was the best, Sephiroth thought as the blond came with an arcing cry. It made him feel wanted, needed, cared for, in ways he'd always dreamed of. In ways that had nothing to do with sex. And he revelled in that feeling as the blond nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck, murmuring disjointed words of affection.

It was some form of mating behaviour, Jenova realised. Although She didn't think two males of this particular species could reproduce. And the physical pleasure aspect of it seemed to be a primitive form of pair-bonding; useful, She supposed, to species which didn't have Her advantages in reproductive matters. But an exchange of genetic materials, bonding activities – that left the question of just why it appeared Her Son's chosen mate had opposed them at Nibelheim. If he'd been properly bound to Sephiroth, he never would have managed such defiance.

Cloud looked on the verge of tears; but while they shone in his eyes, they didn't fall. He stood stiffly, almost at attention, shoulders squared and chin raised with the last few remains of his stubborn pride.

"I don't understand," Sephiroth said, a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. "You didn't get into SOLDIER, so you want us to stop seeing each other?"

"Someone like you doesn't belong with a failure like me," Cloud pointed out, and his voice wavered just a little.

Sephiroth was confused. His first thought was to give Cloud a hug, because Zack was insistent that hugs always made things better, and his limited experience bore this theory out. But everything about Cloud's body language screamed, 'keep away!' So he focused on the words instead. Cloud thought he wasn't good enough because he didn't get into SOLDIER? It was true that he was rather small and weak, but that had never mattered to Sephiroth before. He decided to try and share this thought.

"It's not important that you didn't get into SOLDIER."

Cloud reacted like his words were a blow, rather than a reassurance. His face paled to a sickly white. "I -" His voice broke, and he seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say. "I'm sorry, I won't bother you again." And he turned and fled.

Sephiroth stared at the door, wondering how things had gone so suddenly, horribly wrong. After a few minutes, he picked up the phone and called Zack. The black-haired SOLDIER had always been so much better at dealing with these confusing emotional issues than he was, and, he thought with just a trace of bitterness, he was sure Cloud wouldn't turn away comfort from Zack.

Jenova could feel the echoes of pain and longing still resounding in Sephiroth's mind: it had been not long after that they travelled to Nibelheim, and everything changed. There was no chance to fix whatever it was he'd done wrong, and this little blond creature he called Cloud had had the audacity to actually fight him. It simply reinforced Jenova's assertion that all the pathetic humans were traitors, and not to be trusted. She told him as much, but instead of drawing him closer, it seemed to make him pull away.

A different tactic, perhaps, was required.

Just because the bulk of Jenova's attention was currently on Sephiroth didn't mean she was unaware of the other small pieces of herself that were scattered about the planet. Hojo had placed her cells within a multitude of creatures – including himself, once he was certain it was survivable. That was simply a measure of his vanity, wishing for a portion of the powers he was attempting to bestow for himself. But Hojo's vanity, and his total lack of any restraints when it came to getting what he wanted, worked in Jenova's favour. She could manipulate him, something which She sometimes thought he was aware of, but it didn't seem to bother him.

And now She knew that he was working frantically to try and reproduce Sephiroth, convinced that he had been destroyed at Nibelheim. She knew better, but saw no reason to tell him so. The temporary loss of so many viable cells when Her body fell into the Lifestream needed to be reversed. And two of the specimens he was currently toying with were quite recognisable to her.

Sephiroth's second-in-command, the SOLDIER known as Zack, and the fragile little blond called Cloud.

It pleased Jenova to know that that pathetic creature was being more than punished for defying Her Son, defying Her. For damaging Them both. And when Hojo was finished, he would be just another puppet for Her to control.

It was that which gave Her an idea for reaching Sephiroth, encouraging his cooperation.

Look, She whispered, he will be like us. He will be one of us, and never leave us again.

For some reason, Sephiroth's initial reaction was one of horror and panic; he renewed his struggle against Her, against the control She had over his mind and body. But She repeated Her words, emphasising, He will never leave Us. We will be as one and travel together among the stars.

And She felt the moment he gave in. We'll be together… always? It was barely a whisper, but the first time he had reached out to speak to Her thus; not with his voice, but with his mind. He won't leave this time?

No, She replied, feeling all his resistance collapse. He'll never leave Us.

Now She could delve deeper into his memories, finding things from his time in SOLDIER, and his childhood in the labs. The clinical way both Hojo and the lab technicians had treated him, with only a few exceptions, so that it had been some time before he even realised that he was human like them. And when he did realise, it was swiftly followed by the recognition that he was not like them at all, that he was somehow different and that was the reason for how he was treated.

The exceptions were the scientist known as Gast, and some unknown female that even Sephiroth couldn't picture clearly. But Gast had left – abandoned you, She whispered – and there was no recollection of what had happened to the female. Just the memory of a female voice, warm arms around him, and the words, 'You have such pretty hair.' With a little twisting, Jenova managed to insinuate Herself into the memory, which had occurred sometime before he let Nibelheim for the Midgar labs. My beautiful Son, She whispered, stroking mental hands through the long silver strands. Of course I loved you then, but Hojo took you away out of my reach.

And She felt him accept this new version, so that it was as if it had always been Her. After all, who else would have tried to comfort him?

He already had a strong antipathy towards the scientists and their ilk, especially Hojo. Jenova was willing to admit Hojo was useful – although not where Sephiroth could hear that particular thought – but She was not overly happy about the possessive attitude the scientist exhibited towards him in some of Sephiroth's memories. You're not his creation, not his at all, She murmured. You're Mine, My Son, and such a creature could never fully understand Your greatness.

She emphasised the same with the lab technicians, with their way of ignoring him at times, and paying too much painful attention at others. The way that, as they grew older, some of their behaviour was almost fearful towards him. They could never comprehend what You are, only that they were before someone far greater than them. Of course they were afraid; that is how animals react to something that could kill them, destroy them, and in the end that is all they are. Little vermin, scurrying about in ignorance and fear.

When he joined SOLDIER, thinking that at last he would be with those like himself, only to realise once again he was different. He gained respect from some, but others were repulsed by his abilities, so far beyond their own. Freakish, they muttered. Jealous, Jenova countered. Jealous and afraid.

Wutai. The country, the battlefields where he gained such a reputation that soldiers and civilians alike looked at him with revulsion and fear. ShinRa itself, the boardrooms and offices, executives and workers filling the hallways, all with their petty office politics and juvenile scheming. The way that they would fall silent when he approached, some of them afraid, and some looking at him in ways that made him feel defiled: lust, avariciousness, envy, hate. All of it provided ammunition for Jenova's manipulations, and Sephiroth was now listening to Her every word.

When Hojo deemed Specimen C a failure, Jenova was aware of it. So too was Sephiroth, now such a part of Her that there was barely any difference between them. And he didn't react at all. Specimen C, as Cloud was now known, had a mind as blank as an empty slate – not such a drawback as far as Jenova was concerned, but no different from many of the other clones Hojo had attempted. Controllable, but requiring too much attention to truly be useful. Interestingly, he seemed to have resisted the physical changes that usually accompanied such treatments, perhaps due to his earlier exposure to Sephiroth's genetic material.

When S/He began to feel a sense of awareness from Specimen C once again, S/He was surprised. It was some time after They had last directed Their attention towards him. His mind was no longer as blank as it had been, but experimentation proved that They could still control him. Indeed, he proved exceedingly useful, as They could plant some suggestion or instruction in his mind, and simply wait for him to carry it out, without having to constantly maintain Their control of him.

It bought a brief stir of interest from the small part that was still Sephiroth, but it subsided again almost immediately. Jenova was reminded of Her curiosity about the pleasures of a physical body. This time She would enjoy all the benefits of having a living vessel. They would let Cloud carry out Their instructions – such a good little puppet – and then They would claim him for Themselves. There was something satisfying in being able to carry out Her earlier promise, even if it no longer seemed that important to Sephiroth.

As for Sephiroth, he was only the barest fraction of Their consciousness now, a tiny portion that rarely did anything more than echo Her thoughts. S/He had almost completely subsumed him, until They truly were one. With Jenova firmly in control of both his mind and body.

And so They toyed with him as he journeyed with his 'friends', periodically taking control. Puppet-Cloud was aware of Them, and so anxious, so eager to please. Awake, Cloud remembered nothing, not of Their control, not even of vast amounts of his own past, which might have told him something. But he still carried out Their wishes, unknowingly, even as he parroted defiance towards Them.

Finally the time came, as Puppet-Cloud handed over the Black Materia that would allow Them to destroy this pathetic planet. And S/He didn't let him go this time, pulling him closer instead and pressing Their lips against his in a mimicry of the kisses gleaned from Sephiroth's memories. Cloud didn't resist, simply went limp in Their embrace. Puppet-Cloud didn't want to do anything that might incur Their displeasure. S/He nudged him with Their mind, to make him respond the way he did in Their memories.

The feel of Their lips moving together, tongues sliding wetly against each other, did cause a decidedly physical reaction in Their body, one that was almost painful in its strength, and S/He pushed him downward, shoved the hard length of Their erection past his unresisting lips, rocking into his mouth.

Jenova was surprised at just how urgent it felt, this physical reaction and yearning for some kind of joining. His mouth was hot and wet around the length of Their cock, and the sensation was almost enough to cancel out all thought, all sense of self. But once again, S/He had to nudge at Cloud's mind to gain the appropriate reactions from him, so that he licked and sucked in response to Their thrusts. To Their frustration, S/He could feel the partial awareness that had made him so useful slipping away, and the act was less satisfying than S/He knew it could have been.

With a snarl of annoyance, S/He decided to move onto that other joining, the one that mimicked the mating practices of these creatures. With a careless grip on his hair, S/He pushed him around until he was on his hands and knees, pushed inside him just a S/He remembered doing so many times before, and thrust with powerful, relentless strokes until Their body found the release it was craving.

Afterwards, Jenova was disgusted. Cloud's mind was once again as blank as it had been after Hojo had played with him. The act of joining Their body to his, while pleasurable, had lacked the overtones it had held in Sephiroth's memories, and was curiously unsatisfying. Perhaps it was a reflection of the blond's inherent weakness, or the way human behaviours had contaminated Her Son's thoughts back then, but as it didn't even elicit a reaction from the last remaining fragments of Sephiroth's personality, S/He cast him aside, watching as he fell into the Lifestream. It seemed a fitting way to dispose of the creature that had, once upon a time, caused Them to suffer the same fate.

S/He was surprised to see him again, when S/He was so close to success. Defying Them once more. When S/He reached out, it was to discover that S/He couldn't get a firm grip on his mind, reassert the control S/He once had over him. This time, S/He resolved, S/He would destroy him utterly. There would be no more of this returning to defy Them again.

Perhaps even more surprising was that this time, the sight of the blond creature staring up at them with angry blue eyes stirred a reaction from that small piece of Their self that was Sephiroth. It made Her wary, that he should now take an interest in things, when for so long he'd been quiescent. That this Cloud should interest him, when he'd been indifferent before. But he didn't attempt to regain control of his body, even though She was ready for any such move.

When he did act, She was completely surprised. Because he didn't attempt to do anything – just the opposite. His rebellion, small though it was, was devastatingly successful. For the first time in years, Sephiroth summoned the full force of his will, a strength he hadn't called upon since the worst of those battles in Wutai, since the days immediately after when Hojo had been attempting to coerce him back into the labs. Not to make his body move, but to hold it still.

And as Jenova watched the blade plummet towards Sephiroth's unmoving body, questions raced through Her mind. Where had the blond found the strength to defy Her once more? How, when She'd thought him a mindless husk after their previous encounter? How could Sephiroth, the greatest fighter on the planet, lose to such a creature twice? How could She? And how, when he was a part of Her, when She was inside him and vice versa, had Sephiroth managed to hide anything from Her?

But the question at the forefront of Her mind, the one she asked as Her Son opened his arms to welcome his approaching death, was a simple one. The one thing which She understood the least.

Why?