#verdegrit

surely making exceptions to personal rules was alright sometimes, especially when his company carried enough chatter to fill the space for both of them. interesting it was, going from working together in their civilian lives to doing the same beneath respective costumes. peter was learning fairly quick how seamless a spider and a lantern could sing the same tune, their investigative trail for the night red hot and shortening fast. each stop and mild interrogation needn't any escalating and for once he wasn't bothered at the idea of companionship. never, when it came to kyle. except for when distraction crept in, shifting night's goals.

perhaps his first mistake was guiding the other out of his way by the waist, a thoughtless effort to clear space and continue taking the lead. his second was admittedly taking the remark that followed to the heart.

﹙ ✷ ﹚𖥨 ´ @verdegrit... tell me. who does she need, the god or the man ? can he choose who to be or like the universe, does he exist as physics and energy commands him to ?

devastated.    desolate.    dark.    a void that builds and decreases in each weep,    a starless girl,    not a person but a birdlike shape of a woman knelt by the outer corner of the milky way as if she were a child on time out.    she could go further away,    but there is no place in the cosmos where she’d be far away enough from her own misery to not feel it.    well,    at least he was there.    or she knew he was coming.    the universe folded itself comfortably when he moved towards her,    as if it made sense for his energy to reach hers.    he had some saviour soul,    as as if the universe itself was beckoning to solve the anomaly of a demoness that was more dark matter than person.    

‘ you saw.    i wasn’t strong enough,    fast enough,    i did not foresee it... ’ her lamentations are echoes that bounce off nowhere in this vast space.    nearby stars flicker.    she knew he was there,    at the collapse of yet another planet that her father had enslaved.    raven couldn’t sense a shred of soul to save them,    and they remained consumed with trigon’s wretched energy.    enslaved,    perhaps forever.    ‘ it’s my fault.    ’ she wants him to punish her somehow,    or at least she thinks she wants that.    instead,    she prepares herself,    big eyed,    to receive his consolation.    for someone who says nothing can soothe her,    she’s surely started needing his words.    ‘ how do i fix this    ?    every day i let him free.    every day he takes and hurts and… ’ how does he deal with this responsibility    ?    how does he not crumble against the pressure    ?