downswing: (五)
ʟᴀɴ ᴡᴀɴɢᴊɪ | 蓝忘机 ([personal profile] downswing) wrote in [community profile] westwhere 2023-10-16 07:04 pm (UTC)


( You know ghosts, and they know his bones, and they rattle and creak and scavenge their way into his marrow. And he is hale, but he is husked and the holes of him gather in lattice.

He knows ghosts. Knows the jittery, jutting shape of Wen Kexing's wrist bone, jumping. Knows to catch the rabbit's pulse that quakes his arm, knows to tug once, tug again, knows to hear, sooner than heed. )


He is dead. Your man is gone. ( And he will not be returned to Wen Kexing, not a ghost or a putrefied, dissolving remnant. Oh, but he is no longer. )

Wen Kexing. Allow him withdrawal.

( It is men who clutch their torments and their tormentors close, who woo them beside themselves. Men who do not allow their own horrors gone. )

Forgive him into indifference.


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