Beacon ('Candle' entry)
Nov. 11th, 2015 09:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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Title: 'Beacon'
Rating: G
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 236
Pairings or Characters: The Doctor (unspecified)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Summary: If all the stars in the universe went out right this minute, the glow emitting from his soul would blaze bright enough to set the cosmos agleam.
He is their beacon, their guide. Their flickering light. If all the stars in the universe went out right this minute, the glow emitting from his soul would blaze bright enough to set the cosmos agleam.
To the lost, the wayward, the lonely, he is indescribably beautiful. They huddle around him, seeking warmth to protect them from the frigid darkness. Then they go their way, each taking the tiniest spark within them, to light their paths.
He is Hope. He is Hope and Wonder and Magic, polishing their souls until they glow almost as brightly as he does.
He doesn't see that in himself. He can't let himself see it.
To them, he is a torch.
In his own eyes, he's a taper, a tiny candle sputtering at the end of its wick.
And he wonders when his spark will be snuffed out. He senses that it will come soon. The thought terrifies him.
So he piles more fuel on the flames, forces himself to blaze ever brighter. Half-tricks himself, fully tricks everyone else. For he cannot let them down.
They see a star, burning and shining and bathing them in warmth, shielding them from the blackness.
But he feels himself tipping nearer, ever nearer, to supernova. He is a paradox: The ultimate beacon of Hope, in tune with his own hopelessness.
The candle is guttering. Soon, there will be nothing but embers drowning in beeswax.
Rating: G
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 236
Pairings or Characters: The Doctor (unspecified)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Summary: If all the stars in the universe went out right this minute, the glow emitting from his soul would blaze bright enough to set the cosmos agleam.
He is their beacon, their guide. Their flickering light. If all the stars in the universe went out right this minute, the glow emitting from his soul would blaze bright enough to set the cosmos agleam.
To the lost, the wayward, the lonely, he is indescribably beautiful. They huddle around him, seeking warmth to protect them from the frigid darkness. Then they go their way, each taking the tiniest spark within them, to light their paths.
He is Hope. He is Hope and Wonder and Magic, polishing their souls until they glow almost as brightly as he does.
He doesn't see that in himself. He can't let himself see it.
To them, he is a torch.
In his own eyes, he's a taper, a tiny candle sputtering at the end of its wick.
And he wonders when his spark will be snuffed out. He senses that it will come soon. The thought terrifies him.
So he piles more fuel on the flames, forces himself to blaze ever brighter. Half-tricks himself, fully tricks everyone else. For he cannot let them down.
They see a star, burning and shining and bathing them in warmth, shielding them from the blackness.
But he feels himself tipping nearer, ever nearer, to supernova. He is a paradox: The ultimate beacon of Hope, in tune with his own hopelessness.
The candle is guttering. Soon, there will be nothing but embers drowning in beeswax.