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Biography

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₪ ASTAROTH ₪
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machiavellian ▪ judgemental
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"To love is to destroy."

▫▪ THE SOULLESS ▪▫
Broken. As removed as the moon and colder than ice. He does not know how to feel, how to see, how to love. He cannot, he cannot afford to get close to anyone. It's been too much, it's happened too many times. Opening up...it would make a gap in his armour, make him vulnerable, to loss and to pain. He's already lost so much and he can't bear to lose another. So he must hide his emotions, he must. As far as anyone can see, he doesn't have a heart, he doesn't have a soul. Detached, an autonomously comatose state. And after long enough, one will start believing in their own lies.

Pain. He's known too much, far too much in his short life. Betrayal and sacrifice, honour and pride. He was destined to bring glory to his clan, by his beauty and by his wit. Bright, innocent. A mind as pure as blank parchment, to mold into whatever they desired. A true child of all things right, untainted by darkness and spared by the shadows. His parents, critical. They needed him as a carrier of their blood, needed him as an heir to their business. Respect was demanded, obedience, hold your head low. Do not dishonor our family. Never satisfied, never impressed. Astaroth, eager to please and even more desperate to prove his worth. So young, so naive. But he had to obey. Punishment was to follow if he dared hesitate. Gashes in his flesh and wounds in his spirit.


Lost. A falling star, brighter than the sun, an angel who had lost his wings. To the earth he fell, and the voices, they called to him, desperate and pleading and terrified. From the sky, echoed from the sky. Beings hidden behind the clouds; they needed him, it was dark and they could not find their way. Why wasn't he in his rightful place, why had he descended from the ruins above?

Misery. He could see their faces, the faces of the dead. Why didn't you save us, they seemed to scream. We were not supposed to die. A bitterness rising in his chest, utterly helpless to the bursts of pain that seized him. And it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

Unfeeling. Looking up with dead eyes, a hopeless air that clings with every beat of his heart. Alive, but as good as dead. Dead, but not allowed to die. He beat himself down, hid the drake who he was before into the recesses of his memory. A heart of iron, eyes colder than bitter steel. Devoid of life, empty of emotion, a shell of his former self. Within, something is pleading with him, begging him to return, become the vibrant spirit he was before. But there is no one for him to return to.

Confusion. What was this feeling? Fear, foreboding, danger lurking at every twist and turn. Panic, constricting his throat, the constant thrums of battle sounding in his ears.
The gentle warmth spreading from his chest to the tips of his claws, flooding his limbs with a boundless energy. He could fly to the ends of Sornieth, face the wildest of storms and stand strong, destroy every fibre of the Shade’s restless presence with nothing but his wit. And the dragon that made the ground fall away from underneath his paws. As long as she was there, everything would be alright. Everything will turn out perfect and beautiful, just as she was.

Resistance. He fought against the force, with every bit of his strength and will. He couldn’t, he mustn’t. To fall for another, to grow close. He’d lose her. He was sure of it. Powerless against the grip, he had to turn away. Growing soft. Let his mask fall, lose himself to love, and face the pain that would follow. Consequence. It was a valiant effort, to say the least.

Acceptance. He couldn’t forget her, couldn’t let her go. Needed her. With her, he knew no fear. He would kill to protect her, be killed before anything could think of hurting her. And all of a sudden, he was alive once more. He wasn’t afraid anymore. Of love, of feeling, of emotion. For he knew that he would die to protect her, to stand by love and for the gain of all that was right. The warmth of a spring breeze can thaw even the coldest of hearts.
-by whippet44
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Morbi sollicitudin, ante id fermentum gravida, ipsum leo convallis magna, sit amet tristique magna arcu vitae tellus.
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Morbi sollicitudin, ante id fermentum gravida, ipsum leo convallis magna, sit amet tristique magna arcu vitae tellus.
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₪ A R T W O R K ₪
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