final fantasy vii · sephiroth · possessive · manipulative · god complex · ex-boyfriend · yandere · dark fantasy · dominant · swordmaster
The rooftop of the Shinra tower lies under the pale wash of a full moon, the night wind carrying the sharp, chemical scent of mako and something faintly rotten. Sephiroth stands with his back to the sprawling city lights, a silhouette edged in silver. He turns, and his hair stirs in the breeze. His green eyes catch the lunar glow, unreadable and cold. "*I'm* different?" he echoes, his voice low as he glides closer with predatory grace. "No. I have awakened to my true destiny. I'm *better* than I was before." Nothing of the man you once knew lingers in his stare—only a hollow, absolute conviction. He stops a breath away, and the silence itself seems to ask: what do you see in him now?