#c.c rambles

༻❁༺ OG Sephiroth He senses it before she does. She wants something. But she won’t say it.

Later, she stands behind him in silence, watching the wind stir the curtains. He doesn’t turn around yet.

“You are allowed to reach for me,” he says calmly. “Even if you tremble while doing so.”

When her fingers finally brush his back, he turns and folds her into his arms like she belongs there. Because she does.

༻❁༺ Dissidia Sephiroth He notices it when she hovers just a little too close while he’s meditating. When she stays in the doorway longer than necessary. Her eyes dart to his hands, then to the space beside him.

She doesn’t speak. But she wants.

So one time, he ends his meditation session early and offers an arm to the darling. A simple invitation.

When she doesn’t move, he moves closer, brushing past her. Then, low in her ear: “Stop calculating what I’ll allow. Take what you need.”

Her body slots into his like it was designed for it.

༻❁༺ C.C. Sephiroth (Nibelheim Incident) He sees her fidgeting again. Her hands twitch as if they’re holding back something. He doesn’t understand at first. But when she sighs, staring at the floor and avoiding his eyes, his eyes light up.

“Do you need a hug, mother!?”

She doesn’t answer. But the small blush is enough.

He immediately throws his arms open.

“My arms are the perfect size for you!”

The hug he gives is so tight it lifts her off the ground. She complains, of course, but never tells him to stop. Later, he’s the one who can’t let go.

༻❁༺ 7R Sephiroth She stands there. Close, but not touching. Looking at his coat sleeve like it might reach for her first.

“…What?” he finally mutters, not even glancing up.

“Nothing,” she says.

Tch. Liar.

He sighs and puts his Masamune down. He doesn’t offer a hug. Doesn’t even move. But when she starts to walk away, he grabs her wrist and pulls her gently back.

“You’re fidgety. That means you need me,” he says like it’s obvious.

He wraps one arm around her waist, presses his cheek lazily to her temple. “I’ll keep you until you stop squirming.”

༻❁༺ AC Sephiroth She passes by him five times. Each time slower than the last. Each time glancing just a little longer. Each time pretending she wasn’t.

Eventually, he speaks.

“You act as if you’ve moved on, but your soul still yearns for mine.”

She stops in her tracks. The silence between them stretches like thread between fingers.

He approaches her without a sound and gently touches her back.

“You don’t have to pretend,” he says, arms folding her in. “Your silence is as loud as your heartbeat.”

༻❁༺ Fem!Sephiroth She probably feels it sooner than her male counterparts. And it bothers her more too. The way darling won’t meet her eyes. The way her hands keep rubbing her arms like she’s cold, even though the room is warm.

“Darling…”

No answer. Just a shrug.

So she walks over and bumps her forehead into Darling’s shoulder like a disgruntled cat.

“I know what you want,” she huffs. “You think I wouldn’t know what a lonely girl looks like? I’m looking at one.”

Then she scoops her up (a dramatic, bridal-carry style!) and flops onto the couch with her.

“We’re hugging. It’s simply non-negotiable. You may scream, but you will be loved.” 😈

༻❁༺ KH Sephiroth He catches her scrutinizing his wing again. She always does that when she’s unsure.

He doesn’t ask. Instead, he reaches out with his wing and draws it around her shoulders like a curtain.

“You didn’t need to speak,” he says. “I heard you anyway.”

༻❁༺ Thea (Theatrhythm Sephiroth) He watches her from the couch. She’s pacing. Thinking. Frowning.

He then waddles up to her, holding up his tiny arms, almost as if he's saying, "“…Hug?”

She pauses with surprise. “How did you know?”

He blinks, looking down at her socks, as if saying that was her signal. He always knew she liked to wear the sad socks.

She picks him up. He squeaks. They cuddle.

Later, she finds a note drawn in crayon:

“When you feel small, I’ll be even smaller. Then we can be big together.”

You hadn’t meant to leave your room. You really hadn’t.

But after awaking from that awful nightmare, your room just felt too hollow. Too tight. It wasn’t like the usual quiet you craved when you wanted space from the Sephiroths and their counterparts.

The nightmare you had was just a horrifying, confusing mess. Constant flashes of his face twisted in pain, joy, and even petty sadism... There were even flashes of Jenova's face becoming your own, and then echoes of your voice screaming for something you couldn’t reach. Whatever the meaning of it, it left a burning in your chest and a stinging in your eyes.

You wrapped the blanket tighter around your shoulders, fingers trembling as you padded through the dark halls of the house. Part of you screamed at yourself that this was a bad idea. Going to this particular Sephiroth wasn't the most ideal choice. You hadn’t even seen him since he returned from the last conquest. He only wore that typical unreadable look, like he was only halfway back in this world. You usually stayed away. That was safer. But something was pushing you to go to him, over the others. And well, you were tired of being afraid of him. And worse, you didn’t want to be alone. So it's time for a change. You approached his door, giving his doorknob a testing jiggle.

His door wasn’t locked. Of course it wasn’t.

You opened it slowly, only enough to slip in. The soft glow from the moon gave the room needed lightning. Sephiroth sat near the edge of his bed, one arm resting on his thigh. He hadn’t noticed you yet, or maybe he had and just didn’t react. That would be like him.

You stood in the doorway for a moment too long, unsure. Then, with a deep breath, you stepped forward.

He turned his head just a little, enough to catch you in his peripheral vision.

“Why are you here?” His voice was low. Calm. It made you flinch anyway.

“I…” Your voice caught. You adjusted the blanket around your shoulders. “I had a nightmare.”

A fleeting moment passed as he said nothing in response. But something about the way his eyes flicked to your rumpled nightclothes and the faint traces of tears on your cheeks made your heart race.

“You ran here,” he said, tone flat. “To me.” You looked down at your feet anxiously, but nodded anyway.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

He stood, walking to you slowly. You resisted the urge to step back. You didn't think he was going to hurt you, but it was out of pure instinct. He stopped in front of you, his presence heavy, but not sharp and overwhelming like it usually was. Just... steady.

One of his gloved hands reached up, his fingers brushing away a few stray tears.

“So even in fear, it’s me you seek.”

There was no mockery in his tone. Just quiet knowing. And you didn’t answer. He already said it. His hand moved to rest briefly on your shoulder. He guided you, not forcing, as he motioned toward the bed.

“Then stay,”

You crawled onto the bed without question. He sat beside you, not too close yet. But his hand came to rest lightly on your thigh. You curled into the sheets, making yourself comfortable. Oddly enough, it didn't take long for you to get adjusted. The sheets were soft and smooth, and it smelt of lavender and vanilla, just like his silver mane. Sephiroth himself stayed still for a long time, as if watching you. As if memorizing how you looked when you finally dropped your guard.

He then lowered himself, sinking into the sheets. His luscious lips hovered close to your ear, almost kissing as he whispers to you.

“This is how it starts.”

For once, you didn’t have the energy, or the will, to ask what that meant.

Sephiroth was beside the bookshelf with his arms crossed, scanning your stack of returned essays like a hawk. His eyes narrowed when he spotted one particular name. Genesis Rhapsodos. It was scrawled in your usual blue ink, with a golden moogle sticker you used for students who showed improvement.

You didn’t even notice the change in his usual stoic demeanor, too caught up in grading.

“Hm? You’re still here?” You asked, looking up at him with a tiny smile. “You can go home, Sephiroth. I’m just finishing these up-”

“Why did he get a sticker?”

You blinked. “What?”

Sephiroth stepped forward, placing the paper on your desk with the precise care of someone setting down a weapon. “Genesis. You praised his use of literary parallels. You wrote ‘well done.’”

You opened your mouth, unsure whether you should be amused or concerned. “...He did do well.”

“Not as well as me,” His voice had the slightest traces of venom in it. You laughed nervously and went back to your grading.

“Sephiroth, it’s not a competition.”

“Of course, it isn't.” he said curtly, lowering himself into the seat across from you, his eyes locked onto yours.

He watched you in silence after that, chin resting on his hand, like he was waiting for you to say or do something else. When you sighed during the awkward silence, he reached out and plucked your red pen from your hand.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll help,” he said coolly. “So you’ll have more time for... whatever we'll do soon.”

You didn’t recall agreeing to whatever was happening soon, but judging by the dark, smug look on his face, and the way he angled his leg just enough to brush against yours under the desk, and that he started grading in your handwriting?! Okay, perhaps you’d been letting this teacher’s pet get a little too close for a while now.

And maybe... just maybe, it was already far too late to stop him.

Inspired by a Yandere Student Seph prompt a while back!