look how the stars shine for you; rapt

[rapt]

there is a dream in the space between the hammer and the nail ------ the dream of about-to-be-hit, which is a bad dream ------------ but the nail will take the hit if it gets to sleep inside the wood forever It was different, the way he loved him. What he’d called love before was something strange and almost ugly, it was all bent knees and keened words, it was hungry devotion, worship at stained altars. This, he thought, was love. And it was – one breed of it, at least, spawning from the diseased corners of his heart, the desire to worship and kneel, to find himself in them, to make an identity out of serving them. Then - Then he’d been changed, a biological warping, brought forth this child, and the world shifted on its axis. From the edges of an abyss came the boy, the perfect mix of Rapt and Kagerus, and Rapt had loved him ever since he laid eyes on him. It was so different, this love, in ways he couldn’t articulate. The other loves were volatile, almost painful, knives piercing flesh. This love was like breathing – natural, painless, a thing he didn’t know how to live without. It hurts, when Abysm goes, though Rapt knows he cannot keep him forever (though he longs to). He’s growing so fast already, filling out, face showing hints of the man he’ll become. He hears the call, and turns, but already his eyes light up – he knows his son’s voice as well as he knows his own heartbeat. He moves toward him quickly, delighted, presses his muzzle against the boy’s neck in greeting. “Abysm,” he says, “I’ve missed you.” rapt caius x else