( he's said the same thing, so many times. that it will never be over, that he's tired, that this is a shit idea, that they should just. stop, that the world doesn't deserve them constantly reliving trauma after trauma just to keep some asshole from destroying everything. they've watched generation after generation get to live already from their sacrifices. enough should have been enough, right? how long do they have to continue doing this for? until the end of time? until someone else comes around and destroys everything?
except that's not emmet, usually. usually. sylvain raises a hand, presses it to emmet's cheek. tips his head down to press a kiss to his cheekbone. )
Hey. Don't say shit like that, alright? We haven't fought this long just to give up. We'll finish it. Take him out, destroy the book. Get rid of it for good--and then we'll get the rest of that life to ourselves. To do whatever the hell we want.
( he's not great at hope, but he can bullshit it when needed. sylvain likes to be more practical. eventually it'll be over. eventually they'll be done. whether or not it'll end in their favor, he doesn't know. )
It'll end. And when it does, I'll give you whatever you want.
( might be best to take the time to re-center emmet, to distract him from whatever the hell he's getting stuck inside of. sylvain. takes a breath in, lowers his head, to nip just over emmet's adam's apple. )
[Emmet's carried the weight of his choices on his back through countless lives and he will keep carrying it - and he's not sure what he expects here, in trying to share it with Sylvain. He can't expect him to help carry the burden, and if he were him he would be - so furious. So that's what he expects, righteously so - and it's why he leans against Sylvie's touch and briefly tips up his chin to stretch the skin of his throat taut beneath Sylvie's lips.
He could let it go. Let himself be talked down into false hope, and keep sparing Sylvie the reality of it. Is he really helping, the longer he holds on to this? He loses either way, and he just doesn't know what to do to spare Sylvie from the worst of it. So after a beat, tempting as it might be, he decides he can't just... dwell on it later. He brings up his own hand to Sylvain's throat, fingers splayed and his thumb against his jaw to pull him away from his neck and back up to an even gaze. He stares into his eyes for the longest beat, and his voice is exceptionally thin when he says:]
I've never seen a future where we win. We lose, we'll always lose. There was never any other way, than to keep throwing ourselves... to keep trying. That is all we can do. I've seen it, just... cycle after cycle. It'll never change.
[Maybe he's wrong. Maybe he hasn't seen everything, but...]
It was this, or nothing. For everyone, everywhere.
( emmet's feelings are understandable. it's been centuries; long enough that sylvain has stopped counting each rebirth, has stopped keeping track of the extensive amount of time they've spent trying to finish it; trying to win. you would think with thirteen of them versus one of him, that it wouldn't be this difficult. that they would be able to come out victorious and end the cycle.
except that's clearly not how the world works; they're stuck in a never ending cycle that's trying to destroy them, without a way out. every time they get close, it restarts; they build up resources again, get ready for the fight, and then have to jump back to the beginning. emmet grabs hold of his chin, and sylvain looks into his eyes, watches him closely. lets those words seep through him for a moment, before he's taking a slow breath in and--letting it out. )
Then we'll have an eternity together. ( spoken soft, easy. ) Your abilities aren't all-encompassing, you can't see everything. It might be another several centuries, a few thousand years, a thousand cycles, but this can't last forever. One day, Lucien will win. Or we'll win. Or I'll shove a knife into that fucker's eye socket and keep him alive but useless, so we can have our time just in case killing him doesn't end it.
( good to take precautions just in case. sylvain's never successfully killed him but in case it does something, he wants to make sure he still gets to enjoy some stress-free time with emmet. )
[He says after a beat, head bowed until Sylvie is tilting his chin and making him look at him. He stares into the familiar eyes of his always lover, lifetime after lifetime, and he feels his words are shakier than he would've ever liked them to be. Sylvie isn't pushing him away, isn't reaming him for doing this the way Emmet feels he should be which feels good and bad. He wants the comfort, he wants to be accepted regardless in Sylvain's endless mercy and understanding but... he just doesn't feel he deserves it.
So many years, so many lives - he's carried the guilt of being the reason they're all stuck like this. Hoping tht one day he can believe there'll be an end like the others hope, wishing he could believe so wholeheartedly that it hurts. He leans to put their foreheads together, still half wishing that Sylvie would hate him. Would yell at him. Would tear him to shreds so he can stop feeling like he's getting away with ruining their lives.]
I love you but I shouldn't be the reason you suffer.
( because he knows it isn't. regardless of what abilities emmet has, none of them pertain to their curse, he didn't make the loop, even if he can't see the end to it. sylvain stays right where he is: weight pressed down on top of emmet, hand on his face, eyes staring straight into the other's own. firm, but not harsh. he needs emmet to understand. )
We've had more time together than others could even dream of. It always ends, it doesn't always end quick or painlessly, but we always come back, we usually find each other. I won't say death hasn't taken it's toll on me, but I would rather spend a thousand cycles beside you suffering from an early death than let it end and destroy everything.
[If he had to do any of this without Sylvie, he's not sure he'd have gotten even a fraction of the distance - knowingly or unknowingly. Sylvain's his other half, whether he remembers him or not, he never feels complete without him. He's the motivation Emmet has for getting out of bed in the morning, nevermind saving the world from a certain jackass. Everything is for Sylvie. Always will be. Even if he's still immersed in his own guilt.]
I've pulled you all to hell with me, time and time again, and yet you still love me. I don't deserve it, don't deserve you but... I love you more than anything. Love you so much.
( hearing emmet's feelings isn't anything surprising; they're not new to love, to loving each other, they have gone through this more times than sylvain can keep track of now. he remembers letters sent via post from across borders, remembers little notes attached to carrier pigeons and messenger boys running over others.
but he dislikes the circumstances behind these words; emmet's guilt, the nightmare that must have led him here, to this. sylvain purses his lips, before he's pressing a hand against emmet's shoulder and a kiss to his cheek. )
Up. I am already awake, we may as well use our time for something entertaining.
[Emmet, despite himself, hears the soft touch of humor to his question - because despite it all, Sylvain is here to comfort him. He still stays by his side and lets everything wash off him like rain, holding on only to the most important parts of it all. He looks to him, eyes affectionate, and sits forward into a hunch before he's touching a palm to Sylvie's cheek.]
( it's easy affection with an answer that should be quite clear.
but sylvain quirks up the corners of his lips, offers over a small smile as he leans into that hand on his cheek, before he's shoving against emmet and swinging his legs off the edge of the bed to pull himself up to his feet. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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except that's not emmet, usually. usually. sylvain raises a hand, presses it to emmet's cheek. tips his head down to press a kiss to his cheekbone. )
Hey. Don't say shit like that, alright? We haven't fought this long just to give up. We'll finish it. Take him out, destroy the book. Get rid of it for good--and then we'll get the rest of that life to ourselves. To do whatever the hell we want.
( he's not great at hope, but he can bullshit it when needed. sylvain likes to be more practical. eventually it'll be over. eventually they'll be done. whether or not it'll end in their favor, he doesn't know. )
It'll end. And when it does, I'll give you whatever you want.
( might be best to take the time to re-center emmet, to distract him from whatever the hell he's getting stuck inside of. sylvain. takes a breath in, lowers his head, to nip just over emmet's adam's apple. )
no subject
[Emmet's carried the weight of his choices on his back through countless lives and he will keep carrying it - and he's not sure what he expects here, in trying to share it with Sylvain. He can't expect him to help carry the burden, and if he were him he would be - so furious. So that's what he expects, righteously so - and it's why he leans against Sylvie's touch and briefly tips up his chin to stretch the skin of his throat taut beneath Sylvie's lips.
He could let it go. Let himself be talked down into false hope, and keep sparing Sylvie the reality of it. Is he really helping, the longer he holds on to this? He loses either way, and he just doesn't know what to do to spare Sylvie from the worst of it. So after a beat, tempting as it might be, he decides he can't just... dwell on it later. He brings up his own hand to Sylvain's throat, fingers splayed and his thumb against his jaw to pull him away from his neck and back up to an even gaze. He stares into his eyes for the longest beat, and his voice is exceptionally thin when he says:]
I've never seen a future where we win. We lose, we'll always lose. There was never any other way, than to keep throwing ourselves... to keep trying. That is all we can do. I've seen it, just... cycle after cycle. It'll never change.
[Maybe he's wrong. Maybe he hasn't seen everything, but...]
It was this, or nothing. For everyone, everywhere.
no subject
except that's clearly not how the world works; they're stuck in a never ending cycle that's trying to destroy them, without a way out. every time they get close, it restarts; they build up resources again, get ready for the fight, and then have to jump back to the beginning. emmet grabs hold of his chin, and sylvain looks into his eyes, watches him closely. lets those words seep through him for a moment, before he's taking a slow breath in and--letting it out. )
Then we'll have an eternity together. ( spoken soft, easy. ) Your abilities aren't all-encompassing, you can't see everything. It might be another several centuries, a few thousand years, a thousand cycles, but this can't last forever. One day, Lucien will win. Or we'll win. Or I'll shove a knife into that fucker's eye socket and keep him alive but useless, so we can have our time just in case killing him doesn't end it.
( good to take precautions just in case. sylvain's never successfully killed him but in case it does something, he wants to make sure he still gets to enjoy some stress-free time with emmet. )
Okay? You don't need to worry.
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[He says after a beat, head bowed until Sylvie is tilting his chin and making him look at him. He stares into the familiar eyes of his always lover, lifetime after lifetime, and he feels his words are shakier than he would've ever liked them to be. Sylvie isn't pushing him away, isn't reaming him for doing this the way Emmet feels he should be which feels good and bad. He wants the comfort, he wants to be accepted regardless in Sylvain's endless mercy and understanding but... he just doesn't feel he deserves it.
So many years, so many lives - he's carried the guilt of being the reason they're all stuck like this. Hoping tht one day he can believe there'll be an end like the others hope, wishing he could believe so wholeheartedly that it hurts. He leans to put their foreheads together, still half wishing that Sylvie would hate him. Would yell at him. Would tear him to shreds so he can stop feeling like he's getting away with ruining their lives.]
I love you but I shouldn't be the reason you suffer.
no subject
( because he knows it isn't. regardless of what abilities emmet has, none of them pertain to their curse, he didn't make the loop, even if he can't see the end to it. sylvain stays right where he is: weight pressed down on top of emmet, hand on his face, eyes staring straight into the other's own. firm, but not harsh. he needs emmet to understand. )
We've had more time together than others could even dream of. It always ends, it doesn't always end quick or painlessly, but we always come back, we usually find each other. I won't say death hasn't taken it's toll on me, but I would rather spend a thousand cycles beside you suffering from an early death than let it end and destroy everything.
no subject
[If he had to do any of this without Sylvie, he's not sure he'd have gotten even a fraction of the distance - knowingly or unknowingly. Sylvain's his other half, whether he remembers him or not, he never feels complete without him. He's the motivation Emmet has for getting out of bed in the morning, nevermind saving the world from a certain jackass. Everything is for Sylvie. Always will be. Even if he's still immersed in his own guilt.]
I've pulled you all to hell with me, time and time again, and yet you still love me. I don't deserve it, don't deserve you but... I love you more than anything. Love you so much.
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but he dislikes the circumstances behind these words; emmet's guilt, the nightmare that must have led him here, to this. sylvain purses his lips, before he's pressing a hand against emmet's shoulder and a kiss to his cheek. )
Up. I am already awake, we may as well use our time for something entertaining.
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[Emmet, despite himself, hears the soft touch of humor to his question - because despite it all, Sylvain is here to comfort him. He still stays by his side and lets everything wash off him like rain, holding on only to the most important parts of it all. He looks to him, eyes affectionate, and sits forward into a hunch before he's touching a palm to Sylvie's cheek.]
no subject
but sylvain quirks up the corners of his lips, offers over a small smile as he leans into that hand on his cheek, before he's shoving against emmet and swinging his legs off the edge of the bed to pull himself up to his feet. )
Chess.