[ The confession is a precious thing, a god's vulnerability handed to him. Armand takes it with reverence, turning his head slightly into Set's touch, closing his eyes briefly as he seeks the warm curve of his palm against his cheek. ]
You honour me far beyond that which I've earned. [ His eyes open, looking at Set with welling sorrow. ] But you're mistaken. I haven't been a man worth admiring for hundreds of years. I've allowed doubts and lies into my home. I have.. hurt those I love. And here.. I don't even have the Dark Gifts to bolster me. I'm not sure that I can secure the victory you desire for me.
[ He covets the sweet angle of Armand's jaw, thumbing across the plane of his cheek. The sorrow in his eyes does little more than entice him, urging him to see how far Armand will cultivate himself in this moment. ( Even if Set, like him, wishes to be believed more than anything. ) ]
I would not admire you without those things. The manipulations, the lies. Even the hurt you cause — this is the you that I know, and choose to support. Hear that much. You may hurt, lie, cheat, scheme, murder, and covet to your heart's content and still have me. Only try your best to win, at all cost. I will not forgive you, if you do not try your best.
[ A difficult burden to carry, victory at any cost, but one that's also strangely freeing. Difficult to get used to living in service for a god who doesn't demand absolution, who doesn't care to hear his apologies, whose grand mythology isn't steeped in original sin, only the red pleasure of existence. The clash of war -- and what is love, if not another battle?
Armand leans into it, unable to help himself. His eyelashes flutter in submission. ]
I hear it, Lord. I'll do my best, with your favour on me.
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You honour me far beyond that which I've earned. [ His eyes open, looking at Set with welling sorrow. ] But you're mistaken. I haven't been a man worth admiring for hundreds of years. I've allowed doubts and lies into my home. I have.. hurt those I love. And here.. I don't even have the Dark Gifts to bolster me. I'm not sure that I can secure the victory you desire for me.
wow this was the perfect bittersweet montage
[ He covets the sweet angle of Armand's jaw, thumbing across the plane of his cheek. The sorrow in his eyes does little more than entice him, urging him to see how far Armand will cultivate himself in this moment. ( Even if Set, like him, wishes to be believed more than anything. ) ]
I would not admire you without those things. The manipulations, the lies. Even the hurt you cause — this is the you that I know, and choose to support. Hear that much. You may hurt, lie, cheat, scheme, murder, and covet to your heart's content and still have me. Only try your best to win, at all cost. I will not forgive you, if you do not try your best.
uwu
Armand leans into it, unable to help himself. His eyelashes flutter in submission. ]
I hear it, Lord. I'll do my best, with your favour on me.