sielrecords

[automatonwithautonomy]

girl help i accidentally made myself emotional about the eighth house---

fuckkkkk. i mean.

imagine you are born and raised to die. prepared for slaughter in every way, designed to be used and used until there is nothing left. you are nothing but your sword and your honour and a battery. the only thing you have is your word and you cling to it will all the twisted want of someone raised to be no one.

and you meet your necromancer, and he's a scared little kid thats going to kill you. he will murder you, suck you dry and burn all the things that make you a person. the weight of a house rests on his shoulders and his life haunts yours.

he looks at you like your every word is gospel, the writ of the Emperor Himself, and it is the worst thing he could do. he loves you. he loves you in the way an uncle loves a nephew and the way a child-cult-leader loves a scion of his house and the way a necromancer loves a cavalier and he is going to eat you, lyctor or not.

but he gets older and wiser and he pulls the life out of you and he forgets when you seemed the cleverest person he knew. there is something worse. this is worse. you were born and raised to be a battery. but you are no longer a beloved one.

the

only

thing

you

have

left

is

honour.