Marilyn Manson: Tragedies Of Life
Title: Tragedies Of Life
Author: doomedloves
Beta: m_artsa
Fandom: Marilyn Manson
Pairing: Marilyn Manson/Twiggy Ramirez
Rating: R?
Genre: Slash, angst, drama
Words: 1000
Summary: "There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it." (Oscar Wilde)
A/N: This was written very, very quickly. It was an easy piece to write. The idea came from a past challenge of slythindor100: "Did you ever fall for someone you know you shouldn't? Try hard to fight your feelings, but you just couldn't?"
Disclaimer: Marilyn and Twiggy belong to each other. The absinthe bottle with eyes is mine.
My limbs, shaking and sweating and aching, could hardly carry me to the other side of the room. My stomach ached and my head felt like something was trying to get out of there through my temples. Each and every cell of my body was on fire.
"Did you ever fall for someone you know you shouldn't?"
I shook my head, trying to get Twiggy's voice out of my head, splashed cold water onto my face. It washed away the smeared makeup away but it couldn't wash away the smeared stained broken splintered shattered god damn aching feeling inside.
"...try hard to fight your feelings but you just couldn't?"
Food didn't seem like a good idea. Water, milk, juice, lemonade, they fucking didn't. A bottle of absinthe had eyes that stared at me accusingly, it grew wings and flew to me, opened up by itself and poured itself into my mouth, forcing me to swallow swallow swallow swallow.
"...feel attracted to someone you knew didn't feel the same for you?"
Throwing up had never felt so good - as if something dirty and stained had left my body. A greenish vomit covered the carpet and fighting the insistent sobs and gags I rolled it and threw it outside. My knees were shaking and sweat broke out on my skin.
"...wish to have someone you just couldn't have?"
Cold water, splash, splash, splash. Eyes filled with tears or water or a mixture of both. Absinthe, heroin, cocaine, LSD, every single thing that could ease the pain, all of them were calling for me. Grab them, drink them, use them, snort them, do them, take them
"...know there was someone that'd make you whole but..."
My toes curled and back arched, I was gagging but couldn't throw up anymore, I was drained and dry, my stomach empty and all thoughts incoherent. A pile of cocaine waited for me on the floor, asking me to snort it immediately but I couldn't.
"...at the same time know you couldn't have him?"
Ghost of tenderness lingered on my skin, cold and sweating but still very much alive. Full of hidden desires and thoughts not even written down in the most personal diaries. My skin, a story of thirty years of want and need and desire and lust and hatred and disgust, my skin, me, myself and I.
"...need that someone to just tell you everything was going to be ok?"
Scars, beautiful lines across my skin, across my mutilated form too skinny or too fat or too slender or too whatever always too, too, too, never just enough or suitable or perfect (no, never perfect, I laughed humorlessly), always too much or too little or just fucking too.
"...hate yourself for falling head over heels in love?"
What would joy be without pain? Why worth had the pursuit of joy if it didn't include the pursuit of pain? Wouldn't it be like days without nights, summers without winters, warmness without coldness, like water, water, water everywhere? Would I care about it then?
"...trust that someone to heal you, completely heal you?"
My laughter, smile, joy, happiness, all they were dead and I didn't wish to recreate them. I didn't need them, signs of weakness, signs of humanity. Humanity is overrated and I did not wish to be a human anymore, I did not wish to be anything. All I wished was to cease to exist.
"...make yourself hurt just to forget about the pain of not having what you need?"
Needing is stupid and senseless; all my attempts of getting what I needed had been futile. I never wanted to need anyone or anything again. I'd have myself and not need anyone else and that was supposed to be it, just me, the lonely wolf that I was.
"...cry yourself to sleep just because you couldn't sleep next to him..."
Fingernails pressed their marks on my palms and I enjoyed the pain. The stinging, brightening, pleasurable feeling of nails pressing into my skin made me sigh. Arms snaked around my knees, hugging them, and I rocked, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, just like my thoughts. Back. And. Forth.
"...curled into his arms, strong and loving?"
Knocks and clangs and slams and steps and shouts but nothing to wake me up from the catatonic state I had reached. Back and forth, back and forth, fingernails and palms, arms and knees, against my chest, chin against knees, eyes closed, teeth and a lip.
"...silently wish for him to save you when no one else can?"
Short and sturdy compared to me, lips swollen from biting and hair unkempt, eyes worried and a frown on his face he came. Hand and hand, legs relaxing, nails leaving palms, eyes opening but then fluttering closed again, eyelashes resting against cheeks.
"...yell silently his name, hoping he'd drag you from the darkness you had built around yourself?"
Fingertip, cheek, tear, and a silent whisper, a name I didn't want to recognize but a thousand flutters of a hopeless heart, emotion that shouldn't have existed, a beauty, a love, a feeling, a lust untold, hidden, smothered under the darkness that smothered me.
"...hope for things you didn't believe in?"
Lips, lips, tongue, tongue, limbs entwined, hand in hair, hair in hand, a body and another, a tear and a thousand more, a one single word and thousands of tears, more words, coming but not going, not disappearing like they should have, like the dream-words did.
"...dream about having him close, kissing and touching..."
Fear that meant next to nothing, distrust that met its destiny, skin that was no longer on its own, a coldness that was chased away, and tears that met his lips and went away, not looking back, never again.
"...and then wake up and cry because it was just a dream?"
"This is not a dream. I am here. You are here. We both are here."
"...get what you wanted?"
"Do not go."
"I won't."
"There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it."
Author: doomedloves
Beta: m_artsa
Fandom: Marilyn Manson
Pairing: Marilyn Manson/Twiggy Ramirez
Rating: R?
Genre: Slash, angst, drama
Words: 1000
Summary: "There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it." (Oscar Wilde)
A/N: This was written very, very quickly. It was an easy piece to write. The idea came from a past challenge of slythindor100: "Did you ever fall for someone you know you shouldn't? Try hard to fight your feelings, but you just couldn't?"
Disclaimer: Marilyn and Twiggy belong to each other. The absinthe bottle with eyes is mine.
My limbs, shaking and sweating and aching, could hardly carry me to the other side of the room. My stomach ached and my head felt like something was trying to get out of there through my temples. Each and every cell of my body was on fire.
"Did you ever fall for someone you know you shouldn't?"
I shook my head, trying to get Twiggy's voice out of my head, splashed cold water onto my face. It washed away the smeared makeup away but it couldn't wash away the smeared stained broken splintered shattered god damn aching feeling inside.
"...try hard to fight your feelings but you just couldn't?"
Food didn't seem like a good idea. Water, milk, juice, lemonade, they fucking didn't. A bottle of absinthe had eyes that stared at me accusingly, it grew wings and flew to me, opened up by itself and poured itself into my mouth, forcing me to swallow swallow swallow swallow.
"...feel attracted to someone you knew didn't feel the same for you?"
Throwing up had never felt so good - as if something dirty and stained had left my body. A greenish vomit covered the carpet and fighting the insistent sobs and gags I rolled it and threw it outside. My knees were shaking and sweat broke out on my skin.
"...wish to have someone you just couldn't have?"
Cold water, splash, splash, splash. Eyes filled with tears or water or a mixture of both. Absinthe, heroin, cocaine, LSD, every single thing that could ease the pain, all of them were calling for me. Grab them, drink them, use them, snort them, do them, take them
"...know there was someone that'd make you whole but..."
My toes curled and back arched, I was gagging but couldn't throw up anymore, I was drained and dry, my stomach empty and all thoughts incoherent. A pile of cocaine waited for me on the floor, asking me to snort it immediately but I couldn't.
"...at the same time know you couldn't have him?"
Ghost of tenderness lingered on my skin, cold and sweating but still very much alive. Full of hidden desires and thoughts not even written down in the most personal diaries. My skin, a story of thirty years of want and need and desire and lust and hatred and disgust, my skin, me, myself and I.
"...need that someone to just tell you everything was going to be ok?"
Scars, beautiful lines across my skin, across my mutilated form too skinny or too fat or too slender or too whatever always too, too, too, never just enough or suitable or perfect (no, never perfect, I laughed humorlessly), always too much or too little or just fucking too.
"...hate yourself for falling head over heels in love?"
What would joy be without pain? Why worth had the pursuit of joy if it didn't include the pursuit of pain? Wouldn't it be like days without nights, summers without winters, warmness without coldness, like water, water, water everywhere? Would I care about it then?
"...trust that someone to heal you, completely heal you?"
My laughter, smile, joy, happiness, all they were dead and I didn't wish to recreate them. I didn't need them, signs of weakness, signs of humanity. Humanity is overrated and I did not wish to be a human anymore, I did not wish to be anything. All I wished was to cease to exist.
"...make yourself hurt just to forget about the pain of not having what you need?"
Needing is stupid and senseless; all my attempts of getting what I needed had been futile. I never wanted to need anyone or anything again. I'd have myself and not need anyone else and that was supposed to be it, just me, the lonely wolf that I was.
"...cry yourself to sleep just because you couldn't sleep next to him..."
Fingernails pressed their marks on my palms and I enjoyed the pain. The stinging, brightening, pleasurable feeling of nails pressing into my skin made me sigh. Arms snaked around my knees, hugging them, and I rocked, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, just like my thoughts. Back. And. Forth.
"...curled into his arms, strong and loving?"
Knocks and clangs and slams and steps and shouts but nothing to wake me up from the catatonic state I had reached. Back and forth, back and forth, fingernails and palms, arms and knees, against my chest, chin against knees, eyes closed, teeth and a lip.
"...silently wish for him to save you when no one else can?"
Short and sturdy compared to me, lips swollen from biting and hair unkempt, eyes worried and a frown on his face he came. Hand and hand, legs relaxing, nails leaving palms, eyes opening but then fluttering closed again, eyelashes resting against cheeks.
"...yell silently his name, hoping he'd drag you from the darkness you had built around yourself?"
Fingertip, cheek, tear, and a silent whisper, a name I didn't want to recognize but a thousand flutters of a hopeless heart, emotion that shouldn't have existed, a beauty, a love, a feeling, a lust untold, hidden, smothered under the darkness that smothered me.
"...hope for things you didn't believe in?"
Lips, lips, tongue, tongue, limbs entwined, hand in hair, hair in hand, a body and another, a tear and a thousand more, a one single word and thousands of tears, more words, coming but not going, not disappearing like they should have, like the dream-words did.
"...dream about having him close, kissing and touching..."
Fear that meant next to nothing, distrust that met its destiny, skin that was no longer on its own, a coldness that was chased away, and tears that met his lips and went away, not looking back, never again.
"...and then wake up and cry because it was just a dream?"
"This is not a dream. I am here. You are here. We both are here."
"...get what you wanted?"
"Do not go."
"I won't."
"There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it."