( It's hurting her. He can feel it, but it's there on the surface levels, too — how Luna breathes and how her eyes become wet, how her hands tremble when she reaches for him. Like a child he tilts right into the embrace, how she cradles him that way, not only letting himself be held but seeking it. His head presses against her; he nudges close with a soft sound, body curling in towards the girl's smaller frame. She apologises for not being there and he's shaking his head slowly against her, wincing. She shouldn't, shouldn't have to— everything is wrong.
There's anger, too, through her upset. He can feel that too, and it catches within the stun of him, lights some spark not-so-deep-down within the demon. He's strange and lost too often these days; the revelation of certain truths has been foggy and murky, but there has also been... clarity, too. It's a strange double-layer of things; he is lost, he is found, he understands certain things and does not understand others.
'used', she says. That word, the one he knows well by now. The one that's been haunting him since he began to learn over time what happened to him, since Luna began piecing it together. They used him. They used him, and they— killed Mom, and Dad, and Rex, and the child—
And they stole Peter.
All of it reels within Paimon, and he's unmoving against Luna, lets her coax his head back up to look at him, eyes wide and swimming as they lock onto her pair, taking in the wet heat of them. It hurts to see her hurt, to feel it. His body shudders around his spirit trapped deep within; he listens to her words, the iced anger within them, quiet but cutting. A fury deeply rooted in resolve, in intention; 'I will never allow them to have you.'
Something in him strengthens in her anger, and something also buckles. He feels both parts of it, and he can't work with it, can't function well. He tries to make a sound, and convulses against her, fingers reaching up to find the material of her clothing, curling tightly in. He holds onto her, and there's something desperate — almost pleading. But then... apologetic, miserable in it. )
I am— sorry. I am sorry. Peter—
( It isn't often he's actually said the name, usually referring to him as host or vessel, but it echoes within him now that he's faced with Luna, his witch, and what has been done, not only to him and to Peter but to her. )
—he was only a child. A human child. It should not have been done.
( He isn't meant to harm humans, children... He is not meant to steal their lives; it was never an equal exchange, never anything right. He needed a male host while on this plane, but... he was never meant to be trapped there at all. To exist within a host should only ever be temporary, a brief union with a summoner, something empowering and beneficial for both, as One. Energies combined, something intimate and precious. And if he must walk upon the Earth for some time, and take a male host, that must not last, either. He is not meant to steal them. Not meant to keep them, just as they are not meant to keep him. A host is never meant to be..... offered to him. Sacrificed to him.
But Peter has been.... taken, consumed. And he may never come back. What happens for them back in that world.... the People have trapped them both, damned them, and that fate may have followed them here. The fate in which he is left standing in Peter's body. Paimon can do many things, but he can't work spells, can't undo them. Especially something so... twisted, so wrong. )
I am sorry, I wish— to give him back to you, but I cannot—
( Knowledge leaks in, still strange, still skewed — he was behind someone else's eyes for so long — but there are things that the demon king knows, is able to know now. And he is sorry to reveal them to her, but he won't conceal the truths from her. Tears of his own leak down, the way they never have before. Not simply a byproduct of this body's emotions, but a result of his own. This body is his now. )
—It was always there. This.... plan, this ending. I have been with him since he became a part of the world. Close by to him. But it took time to get... inside. Much time. He had to be made... ready.
that's the MOOD
There's anger, too, through her upset. He can feel that too, and it catches within the stun of him, lights some spark not-so-deep-down within the demon. He's strange and lost too often these days; the revelation of certain truths has been foggy and murky, but there has also been... clarity, too. It's a strange double-layer of things; he is lost, he is found, he understands certain things and does not understand others.
'used', she says. That word, the one he knows well by now. The one that's been haunting him since he began to learn over time what happened to him, since Luna began piecing it together. They used him. They used him, and they— killed Mom, and Dad, and Rex, and the child—
And they stole Peter.
All of it reels within Paimon, and he's unmoving against Luna, lets her coax his head back up to look at him, eyes wide and swimming as they lock onto her pair, taking in the wet heat of them. It hurts to see her hurt, to feel it. His body shudders around his spirit trapped deep within; he listens to her words, the iced anger within them, quiet but cutting. A fury deeply rooted in resolve, in intention; 'I will never allow them to have you.'
Something in him strengthens in her anger, and something also buckles. He feels both parts of it, and he can't work with it, can't function well. He tries to make a sound, and convulses against her, fingers reaching up to find the material of her clothing, curling tightly in. He holds onto her, and there's something desperate — almost pleading. But then... apologetic, miserable in it. )
I am— sorry. I am sorry. Peter—
( It isn't often he's actually said the name, usually referring to him as host or vessel, but it echoes within him now that he's faced with Luna, his witch, and what has been done, not only to him and to Peter but to her. )
—he was only a child. A human child. It should not have been done.
( He isn't meant to harm humans, children... He is not meant to steal their lives; it was never an equal exchange, never anything right. He needed a male host while on this plane, but... he was never meant to be trapped there at all. To exist within a host should only ever be temporary, a brief union with a summoner, something empowering and beneficial for both, as One. Energies combined, something intimate and precious. And if he must walk upon the Earth for some time, and take a male host, that must not last, either. He is not meant to steal them. Not meant to keep them, just as they are not meant to keep him. A host is never meant to be..... offered to him. Sacrificed to him.
But Peter has been.... taken, consumed. And he may never come back. What happens for them back in that world.... the People have trapped them both, damned them, and that fate may have followed them here. The fate in which he is left standing in Peter's body. Paimon can do many things, but he can't work spells, can't undo them. Especially something so... twisted, so wrong. )
I am sorry, I wish— to give him back to you, but I cannot—
( Knowledge leaks in, still strange, still skewed — he was behind someone else's eyes for so long — but there are things that the demon king knows, is able to know now. And he is sorry to reveal them to her, but he won't conceal the truths from her. Tears of his own leak down, the way they never have before. Not simply a byproduct of this body's emotions, but a result of his own. This body is his now. )
—It was always there. This.... plan, this ending. I have been with him since he became a part of the world. Close by to him. But it took time to get... inside. Much time. He had to be made... ready.