for luc | funeral-wind
i’m a monster, you think. and monsters are my specialty.
and you think it’s true. you’re a war machine - a mage with a weapon, a ticking time bomb inside your chest, a special storage unit to protect a deadly treasure. you fight because that is what you were built to do because you were born with the flesh of the immortal and the breath of the cold winter wind on the highest mountain peak.
but you are so much more than that. you’ve learned the mortal ways of love and loss and care when you’ve been born with a metallic heart protected by sharp blades. your powers may be otherworldly but you’ve found your peace with the grass and the trees even if you hold a tornado inside your rib cage, threatening to destroy all around you.
and you thought you were broken for it but you are actually so beautiful. because the one that you could only label as a father built you as an empty containment but your body refused to be so barren, so generic, so suppressed cause it knew that you are too boundless and too great for the four walls that your father created.
you have a soul. monsters do not have souls - that is what sets us apart from the forsaken.
that’s a human belief, you hiss.
and if it is? sometimes, humanity is right.
