[Part of the caveat that comes with meddling in timelines and parallel worlds are the deviations. Sephiroth knows to expect these things by now. Sometimes, the changes are significant. Other times, they're a little more subtle. In this case, it's the latter. Sephiroth may be awash with madness, but he's not so far gone that he doesn't recognize the surprise and longing he sees in Angeal's face when he realizes Sephiroth's feelings for him.
It seems this Angeal never quite made it that far with his Sephiroth.
He wonders - idly - if it would have hurt him less this way-- to lose Angeal in blissful ignorance and not be haunted by the memory of his lips when they kissed, of the way Angeal looked at him like he was his world when he thought Sephiroth couldn't see, of the sweet mornings they spent together after making love.
Is this you? Angeal asks once, stunned, and Sephiroth doesn't answer. He turns instead-- lets a cascade of silver hair obscure his face.
He doesn't need to see Angeal's face to know he's in anguish over the trainwreck of memories he witnesses next. It's not shame that keeps Sephiroth from looking Angeal in the eye. Not really. He'd wanted nothing more than to burn his world to the ground-- to punish a planet full of people who had done nothing but objectify and weaponize him. Complicit in Shinra's putrid lies. And he did. He... continues to do so.
No... it's not shame at all. He did the only thing he could do in those moments. Rather, it's... Angeal himself. All it would take is one look of utter heartbreak to stay Sephiroth's hand from further chaos, and he still has too much fury to give while his Angeal remains lost to him. He holds no illusions that doing any of this will unbury his beloved from the Lifestream and back into his arms-- he'd given up on that fanciful hope a long time ago. None of this really even benefits him at all-- except to satiate the fragments of his old self that are still left, yearning to make a difference. If not for him, then at least other timelines. For the other versions of himself that are not yet damned to an existence of misery and hate.
For Angeal-- who still has so much to offer to every world he's in.
Is this you? Angeal asks again, his voice sounding far more harrowed this time.]
...It is. [A beat.] Have you seen enough?
[Because there's certainly more if Angeal insists on stubbornly clinging to the idea that his existence is a burden.]
no subject
It seems this Angeal never quite made it that far with his Sephiroth.
He wonders - idly - if it would have hurt him less this way-- to lose Angeal in blissful ignorance and not be haunted by the memory of his lips when they kissed, of the way Angeal looked at him like he was his world when he thought Sephiroth couldn't see, of the sweet mornings they spent together after making love.
Is this you? Angeal asks once, stunned, and Sephiroth doesn't answer. He turns instead-- lets a cascade of silver hair obscure his face.
He doesn't need to see Angeal's face to know he's in anguish over the trainwreck of memories he witnesses next. It's not shame that keeps Sephiroth from looking Angeal in the eye. Not really. He'd wanted nothing more than to burn his world to the ground-- to punish a planet full of people who had done nothing but objectify and weaponize him. Complicit in Shinra's putrid lies. And he did. He... continues to do so.
No... it's not shame at all. He did the only thing he could do in those moments. Rather, it's... Angeal himself. All it would take is one look of utter heartbreak to stay Sephiroth's hand from further chaos, and he still has too much fury to give while his Angeal remains lost to him. He holds no illusions that doing any of this will unbury his beloved from the Lifestream and back into his arms-- he'd given up on that fanciful hope a long time ago. None of this really even benefits him at all-- except to satiate the fragments of his old self that are still left, yearning to make a difference. If not for him, then at least other timelines. For the other versions of himself that are not yet damned to an existence of misery and hate.
For Angeal-- who still has so much to offer to every world he's in.
Is this you? Angeal asks again, his voice sounding far more harrowed this time.]
...It is. [A beat.] Have you seen enough?
[Because there's certainly more if Angeal insists on stubbornly clinging to the idea that his existence is a burden.]