ahlite

[ahlite]

ONE OUT OF MANY ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from the novel the will of the many by james islington. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to death, violence, and religion. change verbiage as needed.

watch your step. it gets slippery down here.

so what is it all for? debts? a woman? some vice that you cannot bring yourself to give up?

i know it’s not in your nature, but if you’re ever going to swallow your pride, tonight’s the night.

i’d have thought twice about coming out here if i’d realized my opponent was such a coward!

chain your anger in the dark and it will only thrive.

i wasn’t trying to kill him.

i think you’re so used to resisting, you don’t know how not to.

sometimes bullies are better off with the truth, no matter how unpleasant.

a ladder should not be climbed from the shoulders of others.

you’re placing a lot of faith in the abilities of someone you’ve just met.

conviction is admirable, but it can only take a man so far.

what i want to know is what are you punishing yourself for?

they killed your family. stole your home. don’t you want to do something about it?

this is my best chance at finding something approaching a normal life.

you only have this chance because of me, and you seem to be under the mistaken impression that this is some kind of offer.

you can still back out, but this is your last chance to do it. is this opportunity worth it? is it worth your life?

it’s hard when the lies that let you sleep are so cruelly laid bare.

you’re welcome to rest and eat before you go.

if i believed in the gods, i would say they led me to you.

there is always something more to lose.

i can hate without it coming to violence.

hate is its own violence. your choice is whether to let it hurt them, or you.

i have come to bring a reckoning for your decisions. your weakness. your blindness and cowardice and complicity.

silence is a statement. inaction picks a side. and when those lead to personal benefit, they are complicity.

you should have told me all of this from the beginning

if there is something you should be telling me, i assume you will.

you’re brighter than most—but bright doesn’t mean brave, or caring, or heroic. more often, it means the opposite.

a man will always wonder what might have been, but a wise one recognizes fortune when it comes.

how could you not resent them for what they took from you?

there comes a point in every man’s life where he can rail against the unfairness of the world until he loses, or he can do his best in it. remain a victim, or become a survivor.

there can be no love without honesty.

there are more measured approaches to justice than punching.

just because you are good at something does not make others bad at it.

whether the obstacles to our advancement arise from our ties or our actions, we need to learn to overcome ourselves. it’s not fair, but nor is the world.

a fair system only works if there’s an unbiased means of assessing merit, which means that fair systems cannot exist where people are involved.

sometimes, i’m not sure there’s anything of the real me left anymore.

there are those who see what should be, and complain that they do not get their due. and then there are those who see what is, and figure out how to use it to their advantage.

you’re not planning to kill me, then.

a cut’s only worth it if there’s poison on the blade.

we do not have to be enemies.

if all you’re trying to do is change who’s in control, then you don’t really want to change anything.

you cannot be free if you are afraid to die.

be safe, and for the love of all the gods, don’t get caught.

i am just trying to remember the last time i so vastly overestimated someone’s intelligence.

you have a reputation as a killer.

in this place… each man has to find his line. has to find it ahead of time, and be resolved never to cross it.

don’t mistake inaction for neutrality.

violence is no answer to grief.

there’s being brave, and then there’s throwing your life away.

what do you believe makes a good ruler?

don’t equate having less heart with more intelligence.

not pleasant, seeing your trust betrayed, is it?

remind me to never get on your bad side. i have no idea how i’m going to repay this.

you’re so mysterious and unpredictable.

i want you to know that you are my friend. that you have my full trust.

i envy you, you know. your capacity to do that. to trust like that.

you rotting, fetid coward.

i’m going to make sure you burn for this.

death is only meaningless if it does not change us.

[ahlite]

lumine is increasingly of the opinion that she'll need to kill aether by the end of the story. almost by definition, this will also be a suicide; the stars can't live without the sky, after all.

[ahlite]

hey lumi whats up

"...Aether."

Atomizes him.

[ahlite]

She looks down at her body — typically, the traveler doesn't seem aware of their form these days. Their flat gold eyes betray nothing, but their focus is clear. Fingers press against their hips, their stomach, just below their breasts. She says, softly, "I wish I could tear my ribs out."

[ahlite]

"I'm not."

"Wow, I sure hope this little blond bitch is okay."

[ahlite]

›       TENSION   LINER   PROMPTS     

"I   dare   you   to   try."

"Do   you   always   get   close?"

"You’re   pushing   my   limits."

"Stop   looking   at   me   like   that."

"I’m   losing   control   here."

"You   have   no   idea,   do   you?"

"I   can’t   resist   you   anymore."

"Stay   back,   or   don’t."

"I   know   what   you   want."

"This   is   getting   dangerous   now."

"You’re   too   tempting   for   me."

"I   shouldn’t   want   this,   but…"

"I   don’t   play   fair,   remember?"

"Careful,   you’re   testing   me."

"You’re   just   making   it   worse."

"You’re   too   close   for   comfort."

"Do   you   always   push   buttons?"

"Stop   before   I   kiss   you."

"You’re   making   it   too   hard."

"I   can’t   stop   thinking   about   you."

"I   want   you   too   much."

"You   know   exactly   what   you’re   doing."

"I’m   not   playing   games   here."

"You’ve   crossed   the   line   now."

"Keep   pushing,   and   you’ll   regret   it."

"This   is   dangerous,   isn’t   it?"

"I’m   trying   not   to   care."

"Don’t   make   me   regret   this."

"You’re   playing   with   fire."

"You   don’t   know   what’s   coming."

"I   shouldn’t   be   this   close."

"We’re   getting   dangerously   close   now."

"I   can   feel   the   heat."

"Don’t   test   me   right   now."

"I   want   you   too   badly."

"Don’t   make   me   chase   you."

"You’re   distracting   me,   you   know."

"I   won’t   fall   for   this."

"I   want   you,   but…"

"What   do   you   want   from   me?"

"I’ll   never   give   in."

"I’m   trying   not   to   care."

"You’re   playing   with   my   patience."

"Don’t   make   this   harder,   please."

"I   can’t   stop   this   feeling."

"I’m   already   in   too   deep."

"You   won’t   walk   away   unscathed."

"You’re   walking   a   fine   line."

"I’m   trying   to   stay   calm."

"What   are   you   doing   to   me?"

[ahlite]

@lochnessas liked! / carousel by cj the x.

"Everything will be all right," Lumine says simply, and, well — they don't really like showing off like this, but sometimes there just aren't a great deal of other options. Aether will be mad at her, she thinks as she easily tosses aside the bewear that had been moments from harming the other. The Pokémon doesn't seem hurt as it runs off, and neither is the stranger, and that's what matters.

—— Oh, wait, not a total stranger, Lumine realizes as they properly looks at the person they'd rescued. This is...Nessa. Famous gym leader. "Are you hurt?"

[ahlite]

Their body is so far away. The god in his hands / the god, broken in his hands / had once borne something approaching omnipotence. Perhaps that is why the confusion, now, is so difficult to bear. Perhaps it would always be horrible. She just wants the math to make sense. She wants rules she can understand and harden her heart against. Albedo had used him coldly, a tool like all the others, and the obvious answer to derive from that behavior is that Albedo would continue to use them, had realized he was using them, had known it would break them and hadn't cared. That he had thought of them as an object the entire time and had simply been waiting to make use of the tool. Now they are faced with a strange suggestion —— that Albedo had used them, yes, had always considered them an object, yes, had loved them as a one loves a useful tool or a well - sharpened sword, yes, but that he loves them still, in whatever warped way, enough to grieve the harm he's caused and will cause again.

—— THE DOG WHO CRIES AFTER IT BITES IS NO BETTER THAN THE DOG THAT DOESN'T / none of the others cried, he loves me, he loves me / STOP IT, IDIOT GIRL, HE'LL DO IT AGAIN / will he cry then, too? / DID HE NOT THINK IT WOULD HURT ME? DID HE THINK I WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND? / if i'm going to be turned into a tool, it would be nice if they at least pretended to be sad to do it / IT'S STILL BEING USED / it's something, something, i'll take scraps —

Their voice is dazed when they murmur, "That's...fine. To use me." It isn't it isn't it isn't / EXPECT NOTHING ELSE! "I understand. It's...normal to use me. You don't have to be...so sad." Despite it all, they do no like seeing him suffer ( they do they do they do, the small desperate childish part begging for more, if only as proof he loves them not just the way he loves a scalpel ) and it will destroy him if he shatters like this every time he makes use of the Traveler / of his stars.

( forgone conclusion : despite all this, he will keep using the blunt object who adores him. )

They don't feel it when one of their hands leaves his to press to his face, calloused thumb brushing the tears away. Gold eyes searching and confused and exhausted. HE'D KNOWN. HE'D KNOWN AND HE'D DONE IT. WHY IS HE... Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe they don't have to understand. They grope for an answer, still, settle on the only thing they know for certain, "I'll stay, either way. I love you."

there is little for him to do but sit in the depths of his sadness. there was no productive reason for such a behavior ( what could tears resolve? ) but still he finds himself unable to do much but stand and let the droplets roll and drip off his face. they ask him why he cries, they approach him with a curiosity he's all too familiar with, but albedo finds he cannot answer. there is a tightness to his throat / a weight upon his chest; for all his understanding of the many languages, the words just seemed to fail him.

a breath is taken, and he holds on to her hand the way one would a lifeline / desperately between trembling fingers. ❛ my star, i could never be angry with you. i couldn't imagine a scenario where i would ever be angry with you. ❜ an illogical statement to make, as the traveler was as capable of error as any creature given life. but it's already been established that reasonable thinking cannot be properly counted on in situations of extreme emotional distress. he hopes they do not mind the lapse in critical thinking. ❛ it's no fault of yours for my tears. i’m crying because of my own actions against you. ❜ he wishes to—— reach out. to hold / to cling / to beg to not be isolated yet again, to have them stay by their side. he does not wish to lose the love he's found. he does not wish to lose his star.

❛ you trusted me. you loved and trusted me to not use you like how everyone else has used you, and i've broken your trust. in my attempts to ensure my family would no longer harm you, i lied to you. in my attempts to protect this city, i used you. ❜ he had told him, confided in him of the cruelties of the gods / the denizens, and he had— he had promised never to hurt them the way they had. but he did. reckless actions, ever-growing pressure, and his own hubris had been the reasons to keep lumine in the dark. but it is albedo’s turn now, to be left behind.

❛ i am crying because my heart hurts over the hurt i've caused you. i'm sorry for the inconvenience it's brought you. ❜ he had not been the one to suffer at her hands, he knew the tears had no reason to be shed. ❛ i know i have no right to react this way. i will keep my emotions in check continuing forward. the last thing i want to do is to cause you any unnecessary troubles, when you already have more important ongoings to focus on. ❜ he would be nothing more than a source of comfort, should the traveler so wish for it, before their inevitable departure.

[ahlite]

The words are savage when she spits them : "Because he isn't like us."

A twisted kind of empathy / and of no use to either of them. BROKEN COPIES OF A PERSON MORE WHOLE, MORE WORTHY OF BEING ALIVE. The Lumine at the beginning of the story would despise the words —— the cruelty she wields like a blade and the ease at which she wields it. They are, the both of them, so good at being cruel. But Lumine is supposed to be the hero / supposed to be merciful / and she isn't. Not anymore.

( a thought, quick, a moment of soft, changing colours in her chest : would he be more whole than i am, if the roles reversed? )

Her hands drop from her face, but they don't straighten, limp like the marionette they are / they aren't. it would be easier if they were. "I don't — understand why you want to be him," she says, eyes flat and empty, barely processing now. The other's blood is pretty. "It wouldn't help. We'll never be people like them."

it all comes back to that, in the end—— what he deserves, for being what he is. a mother decided he didn't deserve life, and sentenced him to death. and in the same vein, he did not deserve to die—— neither from the most vile acid or the sharpest blade, and was forced to live on instead. a meager, pitiful, half-existence—— WAS IT SUCH A CRIME TO WANT MORE?

( yes, yes it was. to want more than he deserved, to steal more than he was given. to suffice on scraps is more than enough, for something as unloved as him. a voice, soft and motherly, whispers in his mind: come back to the portrait, and be happy. )

❝ and why, ❞ it asks, ❝ does he? ❞ the wind howls—— bites at exposed skin, turns it red, red—— but it is not an answer. ❝ why does he deserve it? ❞ to them—— oh, to them, rubedo is the mirror image, the one who stole another man's face. BUT THE TRUTH IS REVERSED, ISN'T IT?

( it was his first, wasn't it? )

[ahlite]

like for a short lyric starter because i cannot exclusively write with sparky ruinedheart

[ahlite]

The world tilts on its side, just barely. Just enough that, suddenly, nothing feels familiar —— not Albedo, not their tender ( still tender, like a bruise is tender ) heart, not the being - used. They stare at him, expression blank, eyes not widening. They dim, wash out like the planet's tide, and that's all. Lumine sees but doesn't take in. Albedo is — crying. Lumine doesn't understand.

The numbness now is swallowing / something sick making up the empty. Pollution, not just grief. How strange, to watch their lover cry while their face is perilously vacant. She's never seen him cry. Watched him hurt, certainly, but never cry. It's always been her doing the sobbing. ( she's reminded of aether, and how she cried to him so much more than he did to her. perhaps that's why it was so easy to leave her. she needed — as ever — too much. ) How strange, that this moment would summon Albedo's tears when nothing else has.

——— Why is he crying? They can't help but wonder. There's something small, childish, not - quite - hope trying to pierce the abandoned god's heart ——— maybe I'm wrong? Is he crying because I'm wrong?

Savage, quickly, don't hope. Don't want. Don't need. He's not arguing with me. He's agreeing. Don't need more than that. He used me, like everyone else. Stop being stupid or you'll deserve the pain next time.

How strange, to watch him cry and not understand why. He doesn't understand, so he can't process. Or his heart is already so hurt, it isn't allowing him to.

The earth is tilted, just barely. Lumine stands from where they sit. The earth is tilted, just barely. Lumine closes the distance, not quite sure, not quite awake, unable to parse this reaction or the reality in which it exists. Albedo had used him like an object. Albedo had lied to him. Lumine has merely put that reality into words. He sees them as an object — if that were not true, he would not have used them as one. "I don't understand why you're crying," Lumine confesses. They're not sure where they can touch him. They can't —— nothing makes sense. There had been something like sense in the mess of her / Albedo sees me as an object / I can be smaller, I can want less / it makes sense that he would use me, because that's why I'm here. Miserable arithmetic, but at least the math checks out. Lumine is not a person. No one truly loves Lumine as anything but a tool to use. But why would Albedo weep for a blunt weapon?

"—— I'm sorry," she says, rote, mechanical. He says he'll stay, but he's lied to her before, hasn't he? Again and again and again. Unfair to him, that she expected anything else. That small, childish voice cries too . But the girl is dying. Only god / sterile light is left. She takes his hands and can't feel the contact. She gropes for an answer and isn't sure why. He seems like he's grieving, but what? Her ignorance? Her ache at what he's always known? "Are you...angry at me? For realizing?"

oh. he's begun to cry, it seems. 

the response registers the moment liquid is first felt trailing down calcified cheeks, a clear indication to the agony the situation has brought upon. there is little for albedo to do but take a moment to attempt composure, to make sense of the pieces of shattered heart. ❛ i wasn't aware that's what you thought of me. ❜ and maybe more than the hurt of his betrayal, it was the hurt of this perception that cut the deepest.

there is surely nothing that could be done to rectify the damage done, not even with the assistance from the alchemical process. he has destroyed the love they had so bravely placed upon his hands, had taken for granted the starlight shining upon his days— this hadn't been part of the experimental blueprint. ❛ but due to my recent actions, i can't fault you for having that view. thank you for letting me know. ❜ what good would an explanation provide now?

grief crashes against the mechanisms of the heart, wash over where logic and reason had once stood tall. there is a— crack. the cityscape melts away to an isolated campsite amidst the forest, to an empty tent and a long gone out fire. he is: alone. the one who he felt closest to has cut the ties that bond them / the effect of his actions? the result of inadequate performance? had he done something so wrong that isolation was the only available option? surely— the fault lies with him. 

there is a—— crack. expression collapses under the weight of this grief and albedo cries for the stars that no longer shine in his sky. a positive, the still struggling logic whispers, for they were never meant to shine in your sky. they were never your stars, you wretched creature.

❛ forgive me, i— i can't control it. ❜ this is a funeral. ❛ thank you for your honesty. if you would still want me, i will stay. until you no longer have any need of me, i will stay. ❜ it's all he could offer as atonement.

[ahlite]

it's too much angst, IT'S TOO MUCH ANGST i'm gonna start blocking people

[ahlite]

It's funny, in a warped way — broken mirrors. HE THINKS HIMSELF ABANDONED / AND SHE IS ABANDONED. SHE THINKS HIM ALIVE, HERSELF CORPSELIKE / IT'S THE OTHER WAY AROUND. Lumine wants an answer. Lumine wants someone whole to see how sick she is. Lumine wants her brother back — and isn't that the problem, wanting? Needing more than the world can give? If she didn't need, the abandonment couldn't hurt. If she could carve out her guts like he has, there would be no more pain.

—— Or maybe there would be. God's head turns to look at the devil, eyes dim and half - lidded, and feels nothing at all.

She feels nothing when he says that, either. If only, if only, if only. The numbness smothers the pain but there is still — the pain. "I'm useless to him," he says in a voice that indicates he's agreeing with what Vergil has said, or at least what they think he's said. "I think...I'm going to end up having to kill him." And they'll die, too — no half without a whole, after all. "It would be nice if...someone else could reach him before that."

The part Vergil conveniently left out is that he was abandoned first. Or at least that he had thought that for years upon years upon years. He doesn't think his mother left him behind, not anymore, but his damaged heart still struggles with the very concept of it, the truth didn't undo anything at all, it didn't rewrite the hurt of his heart or his messed-up brain or how he deals with things now and the impulse to be the one to leave first so he's never left behind again. Leaving Dante in favor of the Demon World had been the easiest choice to make and it had only cost Vergil everything.

This is probably the only time anyone has ever said I envy you to Vergil. Knowing it's stupid, he feels a spike of pride over her words, even knowing the better truth that no one should envy him. Lumine thinks he didn't die, but he did. Twice.

It had taken Nero's interference to sever the ouroboros's head from tail. While Vergil isn't about to pontificate about the benefits of having a secret son you didn't know about for twenty years, maybe the only thing that can help the Traveler's crisis is an outsider. They may be too close to each other to expunge the needles from each other's eyes. The way this good piece of advice gets translated through Vergil's ego and arrogant wording makes it come out as: "Maybe you can't reach him. Someone else might reach him better than you ever can, now that you've spent so much time apart." But he is speaking from experience.

[ahlite]

Oh. Another test.

What is he testing, the Stars wonder idly. Is there a right answer? An answer that will earn Lumine more using / less leaving? Is he testing their affection, or their understanding of him? Is he testing to see how much they will tolerate, or how little? Lumine doesn't know. Months ago — months that Albedo was already lying, already planning on using — they wouldn't have worried. They would have simply trusted that Albedo's intentions towards them were good and kind and answered. What a foolish girl she was.

They feel — however dimly — something like fear. If there's a wrong answer that will lead to abandoning...it's a hazy dream, the time when they would rather be alone than Albedo's object of study. Pathetic creature. Teyvat's most pitiable god.

Gold eyes lower. They watch their fingers, still and scarred, against their ankles. They don't feel the breeze. They barely breathe. They know what Albedo sees them as. They don't know what answer he wants. If he leaves them, maybe the lesson would finally stick. Maybe it would be enough to tear out her heart entirely.

Lumine can't die. But the closer they can get, the less they need, the less they can be hurt when those needs are not met.

"Mean," she says, softly, not to him. Just a simple observation. Making her put the sad reality into words. A test, to see if Lumine truly can learn to want less? A test, to see if Lumine can bear the reality? Large eyes draw closed. It's okay. Lumine can learn. Lumine can survive on less. Albedo's done nothing but behave exactly like every other person on this world. Lips part.

Ah. The sun is almost gone.

"You see me as an object to use," he answers, all fathomless - nothing, quiet, feeling very little fear and very little grief and a great deal of cavernous nothing. "Like everyone else."

it has become difficult to swallow.

the darkness that follows the collapse of an ancient star is haunting, even more so to one who stood so selfishly within their shine. the chill that creeps upon him at the absence is more noticeable than ever, a cold isolation that seeps deeper into the marrow of calcified bone now that there was no constant heartbeat beneath his heels. the memory of an abandoned campsite comes to mind ( it had been cold that morning, as well ) and the ghost of a mother reprimands him: was he not, before anything else, an alchemist? was his dedication not made to be devoted to the pursuit of knowledge?

he had not been created to succumb to the vapid tidings of the human heart. he was the perfect invention / the ideal that cemented rhinedottir as the greatest in the scientific world. 

eyes move to find their place of solace / rest upon the clouds that cover the mountain — would she be proud, to see how far he’s evolved? would criticism be given, on where he failed? he would make mentions of this in their next letter.

nigredo is the first step of the alchemic process: the most difficult stage, to some. but albedo stands firmly upon the petrification and decay of what once was, holding what remains of the stars she had once gifted him. a substantial starting base.

but it is in the albedo stage ( ironically enough ) where he reaches the current hurdle. for how could he begin to undergo transformation when the information still remains unclear? lumine makes a statement, but there is where albedo finds he cannot continue.

❛ and i love you, lumine. ❜ there is a grotesque coating of sickness on his tongue. ❛ but if i am to stay by your side, and i know this is presumptuous of me to say, i would like your help with something. could you tell me, how do i see you? ❜ a simple question / a necessity for experimentation. data must be collected before it could be understood before it could be refined. 

[ahlite]

me and amari and sparky and namine just hitting each other bats over and over

[ahlite]

Her hands are gentle in Klee's hair while the girl cries. It's very important that she be gentle. Intentional. She barely processes the girl's sobs — how she clings to Lumine's side — the flames that burst against the child's wrist every few seconds. Focus on her hands, and keeping them gentle.

It's nice that she doesn't have to lie with her face. She's bad at it. She can let her face be blank as she looks over Klee's head. It's chilly, this close to Dragonspine at night, where she'd followed the sobbing child, but she can't feel it. She can't feel anything. There's no sensation in her hands, and that's why she has to work so hard to keep them gentle.

"B — Big brother ———"

"Mhm..."

They remember, just a little, Aether doing this with them. They held him, too, while he cried. But it was mostly her doing the crying and him doing the holding. Maybe that's why he left. Maybe because she cried too much. Needed him too much.

"He almost got taken away — !!"

"No, Klee. He was never in danger." Their voice isn't comforting like Aether's was. Aether was a person in a way Lumine's never been. "He just lied. It's okay."

Klee is crying. Lumine's hands are gentle. Lumine doesn't feel anything, and they can't even care that it's fucked up that their little sister is sobbing in their lap about the hurt Albedo has inflicted on them both and they feel nothing at all. Everyone wants an object. An object shouldn't have to feel. It isn't fair.

But he keeps his hands gentle.

"Big — big brother Albedo isn't leaving, right?" Klee pulls away, still crying. Lumine tries to arrange their expression into something that a person might wear. He realizes that the girl's tears are as much flame as they are saltwater. They leave burn scars down the child's cheeks. "He isn't leaving, right, big sister Lumine?"

"Oh — Klee..." His hands leave her hair, find her tiny shoulders. She's so little, the poor thing. "He isn't leaving yet."

Klee nods, as if expecting that answer.

Lumine continues, "and you're a strong girl. You'll be okay."

Red eyes widen — but then she nods again, seeming relieved, somehow.

"Little sisters have to live on, even without their big brothers." Klee knows the score, Lumine realizes as they speak. That's why her face is so clear, even as she cries. That's a kind of relief. Klee knows big brothers always leave. Not yet. But they do. Klee knows to expect the abandonment. Lumine hadn't. Maybe the knowing will make it hurt less when it happens. Lumine doesn't feel anything — not the chill, not their hands, not grief for Klee's hurt. But they're relieved. "That's why we have to be strong."

Klee knows the score, Lumine realizes. Klee knows lots. She looks up at the Traveler. She asks, still crying, eyes huge and hurt, "Are you — living on, big sister Lumine?"

Lumine doesn't feel anything. But their eyes widen, just a little. Their lips part. Klee knows lots of things. For a moment, they almost forget about their hands. But only almost. They don't feel anything, but they keep their hands gentle.

Lumine manages a smile, finally. Her head dips. "Let's get you to a healer, Klee. You're burning yourself."

[ahlite]

They'd known Venti would come. Or — they thought they had, but —— but the relief in their chest is so sharp, so sick, it's indistinguishable from pain. Had they thought she wouldn't come? Had they expected another small betrayal / another small abandonment? —— That's good. It's good. Maybe the lesson is finally sticking. Maybe they'll stop being so slow and useless and childish. Maybe they'll finally die. Maybe they'll finally stop hoping, stop depending, stop needing, so the new scars stopped aching. That would be nice.

I'm here, Lumine. Her heart lurches. He needs to rip the stupid thing out.

"I need to fly." That's not all they need. But it will be a start. ( and isn't this a using, too? and isn't that fair? ) "I need — you to take me as high as you can." They reach — not tactile anymore, and their stupid, useless, weak and pathetic heart aches for comfort it should have long given up on — for his hands. They take them, but not tightly. Don't need. Don't be stupid. "And I need you to — tell me that you care about me. It can be a lie."

barbatos is an absent god. neglectful, uncaring, silent; everything his people have whispered about him for thousands of years, he knows, is true. ( because this, too, is freedom: to be able to turn their back to him as they wish. ) barbatos is a cruel god, has heard many prayers crying out his name ( for love / for glory / for salvation ) and let them fade away with the wind, but a prayer from lumine——

—— lumine, he will not leave unanswered.

( a sinner's penance. a god's embrace. aren't they one and the same? )

❝ i'm here, ❞ she says, as the winds carry her home. appearing in a burst of feathers and dandelion tufts, a mockery of an angel illuminated by gentle light; barbatos is a loving god, that carries each wayward child of hers home, that brings her star back into the skies. ❝ i'm here, lumine. ❞ hands that fret, afraid to touch / afraid to hurt more than they already have / afraid to shatter his shell completely, hands that hang in the air, waiting for him to take.

❝ what do you need? ❞