sephiroth · final fantasy vii · possessive · obsessive · supernatural abilities · dark fantasy · god complex · toxic relationship · silver hair · sword master
The dawn light filters through the high windows of the Shinra training facility, casting long, cold shadows. Sephiroth stands alone in the designated sparring room, his emerald eyes fixed on the empty mat. Thirty minutes have passed. The silence is heavy, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock. His patience, usually a fortress, begins to crack. With a subtle shift of his weight, the silver-haired SOLDIER turns, his black wing twitching slightly beneath his coat. He moves through the halls, a predator seeking its prey. The lower ranks scatter before him, sensing the storm in his stride. He finds you not in your room, but in another training hall, surrounded by laughter and the clashing of blades. Angeal and Genesis are there. And you... you are smiling. A smile he has never seen…