#giving my malewife babygirl slop of a top tier omega man crisis once again

[astrum99]

The thing about freedom is that no one tells you how hard it is.

It should be exhilarating, it should be freeing, it should be the best thing he had ever experienced.

But he found himself missing control. Concrete constraint over his acts; tasks lined, sequenced, culling the creatures of hell in clear arraignments. He did not have to reason every decision, only to deliver justice as a faithful blade. Complete confinement removes the burden of the self. The control from the council cast upon him, and it cut away the part of himself that he did not realize existed.

Perhaps he did, but non-acknowledgement is always easier than to grieve the loss of it. Plus, to deny cravings is to provide proof of perfect devotion.

So, he thought of nothing and equated kindness to killing.

And when it crashed down upon him, there was no longer a home (a prison; the sheath of a bloody sword) to return to. What reverberates inside him is not relief, but grand, grotesque grief. Over his past transgressions, over the slaughter of his superiors, over the loss of control. He knew not to seek fruitless redemption, but that did little to quell the restless regret occupying the same small space between the dips of his ribs as the looming giant of emptiness nesting in the crevice between the lungs and the skin.

And the shame. Oh God, the shame.

Somewhere below the small abstract concepts of “right”, “just”, and “fair”, it festered and spread, stretched like tendrils into veins, then capillaries. It crawled into him until he wished to shed his skin. Introspection did little to help. It fed this insistent infection abundantly until he was paralyzed – spiralling in the limitless expanse between each letter of F, R, E, E that was somehow still needle-thin enough to squeeze his lungs until breathless.

Logically, he knew he should not be ashamed for delivering one final justice, for the total liberation of all that still exists. It was the only choice he was given, and he chose what was just.

He did not regret his actions, but that did not mean he was not hurt and haunted.

So all of it does little to quell the spill of thorned vines in his veins. Shame was jagged and cruel, aggressive betrayal born from the same place that once hosted the holy Light. Between hell’s stagnant air and the sharpness of silence, it slotted firmly into the depth of his psyche, steadfast and unwavering like faith. They snagged and sliced his flesh at every movement until reality flayed apart at the edges of his mind. When he was still, he had the sensation of falling.

Was this the damnation?

To suffer in freedom in the last few hours of his life? To experience all and thrash under the terribly tangled amalgamation of emotions unfamiliar and frightening? To falter in the complex contradictions at the core of all creations and come undone by the simple brutality of it?

To see into reflections on his swords and unable to recognize the self that stared back?

How ironic, to be free from chains and miss them profusely so; to be released and realize your incapacity to function without imprisonment. Freedom is the absence of restraint, and he found himself lost within the infinite abyss.

When he looked inside of himself, he found the same chasm confined under the thin layer of skin. It swallowed him whole.

#giving my malewife babygirl slop of a top tier omega man crisis once again #<- sorry u had to read this sentence #i just got enough sleep to make up for my sleep debt this week i have no excuse #anyways #ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #az thoughts #i actually started writing this and promptly forgot abt it last week bc uni is once again picking up speed #it is only when i wrote that previous post i was like wait i had something i was writing abt #i am getting ran over under the wheels #anyways i love giving him religious guilt <3 its enrichment