#prophet1c

[perfectionreached]

t.ai and lo.ttie aesthetic ! @prophet1c

[perfectionreached]

@prophet1c

You have bags, and I'm not talking about the Gucci kind

eyes narrow, a moment of silence before she speaks again. she guesses she should have expected this - lottie being able to see right through her. but even still, she can't help but resent that anyone could. "gee, thanks, lottie. i don't even think you need visions to figure that out."

for once, there's almost a desire for words to flow, to tell the other exactly why she wasn't sleeping. to tell her how bad she felt - wondering if deep down she could be healed. taissa told van that she wanted to visit lottie's compound because she was curious on how she was holding up - but in truth, she needed to see her again. as a last resort. "i've spent more time hitchhiking across state lines than sleeping the past couple of days, you do the math."

[mau1ed]

oh ... but doesn't she know she didn't have to ? maybe it wasn't fair of them, no, van knows it wasn't fair of them. they made a god out of a girl who never asked that of them nor wanted it. starving, exhausted, & slowly losing faith they needed something, anything, to believe in. at the time it unfortunately happened to be @prophet1c. she regretted it now with knowing what she knows, wished so badly they hadn't put so much pressure on a girl who was already cracking, but at seventeen ... they didn't know any better. what van did know is that weird shit happened out there & lottie always knew & lottie tried to protect them. lottie, lottie, lottie. VAN ALWAYS BELIEVED IN HER. still believed in her, would break her out of whatever psych ward the other four were planning on locking her up in because just like at seventeen she needed her.  ❛ i know. ❜ a shaky exhale leaves her, rocking on her heels in an attempt to self soothe. she's thought about it, sure, knew being in their presence again would bring out things she's spent the last two decades shoving down. always thought it would be taissa that knocked her on her ass ... until she saw her standing at the water.

 ❛ you never asked & neither did we. ❜ she admitted, shoving hands deep in her pockets ━ god she wishes they hadn't had to empty them would give anything to nervously fiddle with that stupid fucking novelty pen she'd slipped in there earlier.  ❛ i'm sorry for that, lot. ❜ she doesn't know how much weight that carries from someone who had all but dropped off the face of the earth, but she meant it.  ❛ i'm asking this time. i need you lottie. i need your help. ❜

prompt: i never asked for that .

[antiler]

@prophet1c asked: why won’t you let me help you ?

you stood firmly on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed defensively over chest. help seemed like such a far off reality, you cannot see through the mist of your hunger for how anything lottie had been saying could help you; you were damned, you had been long before the plane crash landed and exposed all of your hurt. you all had your roles, chores assigned and the whistle of the wind had brought you nothing but failure, returning back to the cabin empty handed. the tenderness of your friends had been lost with the time that passed, the blood in mouth, choking on crimson rivers night after night in your dreams, the guilt that may as well have ate you alive from the moment flesh burned; the wilderness gave, but you were not willing to receive. it saw right through you, desperation had you seeing a white elk: the answer to your prayers, how it buried itself in the carcass of the plane, as if it saw you too, just for it to disappear into the mist. already thought that you were going insane from the ache in your abdomen, cold penetrating your heart and your words, and the loneliness of the cabin did not dissapate that feeling, watching the girls from the warmth of the fire praying to whatever gods she was preaching.

“jesus fucking christ, lottie, you're not helping anyone.” the help had left you crouched over a dead friend, the act of devouring, the way it left you wanting. “people are bored, they are hungry. you think prayer circles are going to help me? having one actual successful hunt this winter will help me. ask the wilderness for that.”