[ Though he had pledged himself to the path of atonement, it was not a path easily walked. For every step forward, he feels the path has become ten steps longer. His gait is either too slow, or he stills entirely, or he strays completely. Sometimes, he shuns it entirely through drink and drug, to numb down the incessant, gnawing thing within him that sounds like scarabs in the walls, poison in the water, fingernails upon an altar — humanity, in a god that ought to be kept separate from such a thing.

He can understand Liem. It is the worst thing imaginable, to him. And yet, he resolves himself to continue to understand, though he must push aside his own memories and the haunting specter of his own in order to do that. Lest he reveal himself, ungainly and shameful, to someone he wishes to be strong for.

Set curls his hands a little tighter into Liem's, and he laces a thumb over the back of the one that covers their connection. Atop, once more. ]

Then, we must make you stronger. Here, [ he shifts one hand free, to press his fingers to Liem's brow, ] and here, [ to his chest, over the space where his heart must lie. ] Perhaps, coming to this world was not all bad. The things you would have faced alone, in a world where you only had so much you could do, only so many paths available — among us, from all these other places and experiences, you may find something that was invisible before. Something that may not rid you of him, or of the fear, but will always make a victor of you.

[ Being cared for, is hard. yeah it fucking is liem

Softly, Set leans his head down. Dipping it, as he raises the clasp of their hands and presses his mouth, slow and long, to the gathering of flesh and muscle between Liem's thumb and forefinger. ]