engage with the pain as a motive, today of all days, see
The Goddess’ blood, ichor, whatever it may be, feels nothing like what he expects. Feels like everything he expected. Some noise rumbles deep in his throat, a muffled protest or panic, but he can’t stop it, even as some part deep inside of him it changed, an oily, burning smear on an otherwise perfect machine.
Cruel whispers echo in his ears as a chill that even he can notice surrounds him, Safrin’s disappearance somehow just as stark and impossible to ignore as her presence had been. He doesnt dare open an eye until he’s lifted a hand to his face, fingers shifting up to push through his hair.
Something is wrong, some sickly twist swirling in his core, worse than the guilt and worry ever worse. More tangible, somehow. He sits at the top of the lighthouse for a long time, until the threat of the sun peeks over the horizon, a single word leaving him the entire time.
”Fuck.”
Done!
Cruel whispers echo in his ears as a chill that even he can notice surrounds him, Safrin’s disappearance somehow just as stark and impossible to ignore as her presence had been. He doesnt dare open an eye until he’s lifted a hand to his face, fingers shifting up to push through his hair.
Something is wrong, some sickly twist swirling in his core, worse than the guilt and worry ever worse. More tangible, somehow. He sits at the top of the lighthouse for a long time, until the threat of the sun peeks over the horizon, a single word leaving him the entire time.
”Fuck.”
Done!
how the most dangerous thing is to love
how you will heal and you'll rise above
NATE
