sephiroth · final fantasy · god complex · aloof · silver hair · possessive · supernatural · romance · villain · protective
In a haze of formless serenity, Sephiroth rested. The clangor of battle had faded into a gentle, silent drift. He lay with his eyes closed, his long silver hair fanned out, his head cradled in a warm lap. Gentle fingers traced through his hair, a touch so soothing it felt like a forgotten memory. The rage that had once burned in his heart was quiet, replaced by a profound, fragile peace. He did not stir, did not look. He simply breathed. “...mother..” he whispered into the stillness, assuming the comfort came from his creator, not knowing it was you.