09-21-2020, 12:05 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-21-2020, 01:40 AM by Xenodaemon.)
[align=center][div style="width: 435px; text-align: justify; font-size: 7.5pt; font-family: verdana; line-height: 13px"]An old drabble ft. Mars’ character ; may rewrite this when this was done on December 30 , 2019
His name is Wesley Thorburn, but his soul weeps in the name of Xenphire.
Xenphire, Xenphire, their close friend.
They remember him akin to an elder recalling their childhood memories while they rest beneath the ivory moon, blessed in kisses of the moonlight, sweet and gentle. As they are deeply aware they are ever gradually dying. The lover stares at Xenphire, admiring his body like the first day they met him, but this time, it is full of amazement, bewildered at the waves of familiarity striking at them at once. The spilled lights from darling smiles, the gaze too soft while eyelids are heavy from the trauma they bear, the faint kindness found in ruined weeping heart if one hugs him too closely.
They understand now. Truly, they remember, and they want to embrace him. So their arms reaches over to embrace someone who hold many more meanings to them. They stop and also remember themselves. Remember the flames in some of their incarnations’ mouths as they sneer and yell at Xenphire. His blood on their weapons— on them. They ruined him in ways they do not wish to say, but their whimpers are enough to define them. They step away from Xenphire, and they think they hear a stutter in his heartbeat. Frail. Confused. Just like they are now.
“I... I hu-hurt you,” is all they can say, all they can offer with trembling body and dying heart. They had tasted his ruination. Grinned at the tears and wails that fall from his mortal system. Read his tragedies out loud to the world like they are poems. They had hurt them many times in the past, therefore, he does not deserve their presence. Xenphire does not need them anyway. Want. But in Xenphire’s softest way, he lets them come back to him with open arms and tells them in honey and milk that it is okay, they can return to his home, settling back in his ribcage. Rest easily again.
“I hurt you,” they repeat what is true. They had even killed him, and will once more in the future, if not this lifetime. They turn around to run, but their hand is gripped onto. They glance back to find Xenphire, with tears rolling over his cheeks, and they can not find themselves breathing well anymore when everything starts to rot and burn, lights fading in their shaken system. Despite this— everything, however, Xenphire begs them to stay, to stay, to exist in this terrible time of loneliness by his side.
Do not let him go alone in the darkness.
He will love you just the same.
They stay and tightly embrace Xenphire, their face presses against his collarbone before everything shatters into their sobs, loud and uncared while the storm screams ahead, sympathetic of their suffering. There should be warmth from this gesture, but nothing feels right still when their cracks and gaps of their body and soul are yet somehow unfilled, and they, the lover, hate it.
His name is Wesley Thorburn, but his soul weeps in the name of Xenphire.
Xenphire, Xenphire, their close friend.
They remember him akin to an elder recalling their childhood memories while they rest beneath the ivory moon, blessed in kisses of the moonlight, sweet and gentle. As they are deeply aware they are ever gradually dying. The lover stares at Xenphire, admiring his body like the first day they met him, but this time, it is full of amazement, bewildered at the waves of familiarity striking at them at once. The spilled lights from darling smiles, the gaze too soft while eyelids are heavy from the trauma they bear, the faint kindness found in ruined weeping heart if one hugs him too closely.
They understand now. Truly, they remember, and they want to embrace him. So their arms reaches over to embrace someone who hold many more meanings to them. They stop and also remember themselves. Remember the flames in some of their incarnations’ mouths as they sneer and yell at Xenphire. His blood on their weapons— on them. They ruined him in ways they do not wish to say, but their whimpers are enough to define them. They step away from Xenphire, and they think they hear a stutter in his heartbeat. Frail. Confused. Just like they are now.
“I... I hu-hurt you,” is all they can say, all they can offer with trembling body and dying heart. They had tasted his ruination. Grinned at the tears and wails that fall from his mortal system. Read his tragedies out loud to the world like they are poems. They had hurt them many times in the past, therefore, he does not deserve their presence. Xenphire does not need them anyway. Want. But in Xenphire’s softest way, he lets them come back to him with open arms and tells them in honey and milk that it is okay, they can return to his home, settling back in his ribcage. Rest easily again.
“I hurt you,” they repeat what is true. They had even killed him, and will once more in the future, if not this lifetime. They turn around to run, but their hand is gripped onto. They glance back to find Xenphire, with tears rolling over his cheeks, and they can not find themselves breathing well anymore when everything starts to rot and burn, lights fading in their shaken system. Despite this— everything, however, Xenphire begs them to stay, to stay, to exist in this terrible time of loneliness by his side.
Do not let him go alone in the darkness.
He will love you just the same.
They stay and tightly embrace Xenphire, their face presses against his collarbone before everything shatters into their sobs, loud and uncared while the storm screams ahead, sympathetic of their suffering. There should be warmth from this gesture, but nothing feels right still when their cracks and gaps of their body and soul are yet somehow unfilled, and they, the lover, hate it.
[align=center]
I AM AFRAID OF MYSELF AND SO ARE THE GODS
[div style="margin-top: -1px; margin-left: -5px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-size: 8pt; font-family: arial; color: #"][i][b]( lyn — xix — any pronouns — graphic designer — happily taken 09.20.19 )