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moony-2001 · 11 months ago

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Lore Olympus ep. 255 critique

Boy oh boy.

No remorse and tonal whiplash

We open this chapter with Persephone waking up not dead, total shock in Hades' arms, asking him if what happened was all a bad dream.

When Hades responds that what happened was not all in her head, we as the readers would expect Persephone to react with shock, remorse, something. Nope. Instead, we get this:

"Oh dear" with the most expressionless face ever. Our empathetic, caring protagonist everyone.

Now maybe I'm being too harsh. However, I feel like most people upon being confronted with the fact that they caused mass destruction would be pretty upset, if not incredibly so. But that's just my 2 cents.

We immediately transition into a party that's being set up for Persephone by all her friends and cohorts. We're then treated to this lovely image:

Thanks Captain Obvious.

While Hermes and Megaera argue over whether or not carrot cake is good, Thanatos pulls Hecate aside and notes about the massive uptick in incoming deaths which confirms what I said in my last critique post. While initially denying it, Hecate quickly realizes that something is very very wrong and that's when Hades and Persephone burst through the doors. Persephone bursts into tears and we get the most tone-deaf sentence ever:

Wow. Haha so funny. Comedy. Given the context of what just happened, this attempt at humor fell so flat.

I feel like the first third of this chapter kind of speaks for itself in terms of the writing and art, which is not good. There's just no emotion at all. I get the feeling that we're supposed to feel bad for Persephone and I just... don't. I don't have a whole lot more to say about this portion of the chapter; just that when I read it, I strained my eyeballs from rolling them so hard.

Hades tries not to make everything about himself challenge: Impossible

We transition into the post-party disaster cleanup where Persephone is hiding out in a greenhouse and Hades and Hecate are inside. Hades takes this opportunity to make everything about himself.

First of all, you're not and you're not.

But on a more serious note, this is not the first time we see Hades take a situation that has either nothing or almost nothing to do with him and make it all about himself. In fact, this is something he does frequently throughout the comic. Hades, in my opinion, very much has a "me, me, me, it's all about me" mindset.

One instance that comes to mind is this scene that happens in early s2 after Persephone opens up about her childhood and AOW. She barely has had time to share and process her traumatic experiences when Hades decides that this is the perfect time to dump 2000 years' worth of pent-up trauma onto a girl he's known for maybe 2 weeks at that point. Yet, he refuses to actively seek help during his time before meeting Persephone and even calls his therapist a hack.

Another instance is when Persephone confronts Hades about ripping out Alex's eye in s1 (when she was still somewhat empathetic to nymphs and whatnot).

Hades, when torturing Alex, very quickly shifts from the mentality of "you could've really damaged Persephone's reputation" to "I'm going to punish you because I view Persephone as my property and how dare you do this to me?"

Hades even outright admits it when confronted. He took a situation that had nothing to do with him and completely made it about himself.

Another instance is when Persephone tells Hades about what Apollo did to her and Hades flies off the handle and makes her trauma about himself. About what he is going to do even though that is not his decision to make.

It baffles me how conceited Hades is despite claiming to care about Persephone. I don't understand how you can look at a person who is going through a hell of a time and think "Let's make this about me". But that's a whole other post for the future

Zeus and Apollo

Skipping to the end of the episode, Apollo calls Hades (with Zeus' phone?) and tells him that he wants to take Persephone off Hades' hands.

Straight up, I don't like Hades and Persephone either as characters or together as a couple. I think they bring out the worst in each other. But Persephone is not some dog that needs to be rehomed and frankly, the whiplash Rachel is giving her audience in regards to Apollo's character is going to put me in a neck brace for life. She keeps flip-flopping between trying to make Apollo this sad, sympathetic anti-hero and the most egregious villain to walk the earth. You can not be both Zuko and Azula Rachel. You need to pick a lane and stay in it.

Apollo reveals that Zeus is in a coma and Hermes conveniently has the news up and running so we as the audience can be greeted with this:

"Attempted murder" you say? Of a being that literally can't die? Rachel, do you even know what attempted murder means?

"The defendant took at least one direct (but ineffective) step towards killing another person" and "The defendant intended to kill that person (malice aforethought)" -> California Law and Sentencing

While both of these are true in the fact that Apollo took the steps to kill Zeus and also intended to kill Zeus, they're gods. You can't murder a god. In order for murder to be attempted, or to even happen, the person in question has to be able to die. But then they're a human, not a god.

I feel like a more accurate report would be something along the lines of "Zeus has fallen victim to what seems to be a violent coup that has left him seriously incapacitated." Maybe that's not the best sentence to ever grace the writing scene, but hopefully my point is clear.

Also, how are people still oblivious to the fact that Apollo is, at the very least, incredibly suspicious right now. I mean his father has just been announced to be "dying" and instead of taking the time to mourn or even appear upset, he immediately slides into the position of power as King of the gods.

This chapter definitely wasn't as bad as 254, but it did make my brain hurt. Merry Christmas Eve and Happy Holidays to those of you who don't celebrate Christmas. See you all soon.

#lore olympus #lore olympus criticism #lo critic #lo critical #unpopular lo #unpopular lore olympus #anti lo persephone #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lo hate #lo criticism #lore olympus critical #lo critique

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damndroid · 1 year ago

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Fionna and Cake: The Escapist Fantasies of Suicide and Apocalypse

One of the first things just about everyone noticed during episode 1 of the new Fionna and Cake miniseries is the incredibly dark lyrics of the opening theme, "Not Myself".

I'm not really feeling like myself today

Hated every job I've had

What's wrong with me?

Everyday's the same

Painfully mundane

'Cause I'm running from my feelings

And my fear of sudden change

Every time I leave my room I wanna die

Even when I'm with my friends

I'm alone inside

'Cause nothing really matters

And I don't know what's sadder The fact I even try

Or that my hopes and dreams are shattered

I'm not really feeling like myself today

Ay ay ay ay

We see another take on the same theme with Simon. As himself, he is incapable of helping Fionna. Losing himself to the madness of the crown in order to be useful again isn't just a sacrifice, it's a suicide.

It strikes a chord, but I initially struggled to see how these themes expanded through the rest of the show. I also struggled to reconcile why, if Fiona is struggling with suicidal ideation, the culmination of her arc in episode 10 is her realizing that the world she lives in, while flawed, is worth fighting for.

And then it hit me: suicidal ideation and apocalyptic ideation are fundamentally the same escapist fantasy.

When I've struggled with suicidal ideation, it has often been through the lens of a release from the responsibility of being part of the world. When you struggle with the constant tasks of keeping yourself fed and clothed, the responsibility you have to the people in your life to be kind, communicative, understanding, and supportive seem out of reach. You begin to feel like, well -

But damndroid, you whimper. What's apocalyptic ideation? What does that have to do with this?

Well, the fantasy that Fionna entertains for most of the series isn't suicide. She wants to replace her world with a magical one full of adventure and promise.

It's only over the course of the series that she realizes that the realization of this fantasy means destroying the world she knows and the people in it.

This kind of fantasy of being able to let go of a mundane, doomed world is something that I think most people in my age group are familiar with. Our media landscape has been saturated with apocalypse for decades. We love stories about sad dads in a world where civilization has collapsed figuring out how to help their daughters (Simon included). This is a reflection of the fact that our world feels doomed. Climate change, the perpetual economic collapses of late stage capitalism, the endless wars of imperial domination, the rise of a new global wave of fascism. It's too much.

If the world is going to die, it's certainly a lot more fun and easy to think about adventures in the aftermath than about the complex process of its death and what we have to do now. This is the core of apocalyptic ideation: the problems that we have a responsibility to help solve seem insurmountable and out of reach. It's easier to imagine a world where we have already failed.

In her superb video essay The World Is Not Ending (please watch it please pleasepleasepleaseplease), Sophie touches on this idea, primarily though a criticism/extension of Mark Fisher's famous quote "It is easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism." Sophie continues this thought:

"If we are trapped by the conviction that we cannot possibly win, imagining others remaining idle is the thing keeping us stuck. If we want to come unstuck, we need to have confidence in each other…the sooner we fight back, the better the world gets to be as a result”

I guess this whole spiel is an excuse for me to say this: we only get one world.

It's not dying. It's being killed.

And not fighting back is suicide.

#Fionna and Cake #Fionna and Cake spoilers #tw:suicide #tw: suicidal ideation #suicide #suicidal ideation

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chaotic-starlight24 · 5 months ago

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Can we hear any details you have about Rosemary? She seems like a really cool person, I would honestly want to be her friend

Yes, ofc!!! I love rambling about all my ocs :)

She doesn't have as many details as Cynthia does and everything but I'll give you what I have for her at this moment!

Her mother was sister to Cynthia and Joey’s dad

She always dreamed of being a hairstylist and is glad she gets to follow that dream

Her father was always drunk and abusive but the thing with Rosemary was that she wasn’t afraid to fight back for herself and her mother, she never really saw him as her dad

Mother was a very shy and quiet person and just not mentally ok enough to take care of them all after father walked out

She ended up in Tulsa with Tessa when she was invited by Cynthia and Joey since there was an old building up for sale perfect for her salon

Another older woman (Beverly) noticed Rosemary was the only one running her salon and offered to join without the need for getting paid till Rosemary had the money to do so.

She is pretty average height, 5’4-5’5

When she first met Darry she was 16 (so he was 15) and she liked his personality and just his vibe in general, they met at the soda fountain whenever she visited for the first time

Whenever she visited they would chat whenever the gang was hanging out and slowly became better friends, not besties but just good friends

Joey, her, and Cynthia were the first people who heard about the Curtis parents death along with the gang

Even though she didn’t really have a good mother, she still is a very motherly person. She may be independent but that doesn’t mean she lets go of her feminine qualities.

She started helping Darry out when (she gets out of work an hour or so earlier than him) she came by the house to drop some stuff of Soda’s off that he left at the soda fountain. She saw that the house was a mess and the boys weren’t doing much to help out so she started washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. Soda and Pony came home to her doing this and were just like “huh?”. She left after the kitchen was clean enough to her and handed Soda his jacket, then left. Darry came home happy to Soda cooking, and the house relatively clean. But when he found out Rosemary cleaned he nearly choked on his food. He insists on leaving little gifts at her door whenever she cleans up. (Bouquet of flowers, chocolate cake, things that are free)

Her salon offers just about everything you could want for hair as well as manicures and pedicures.

She is a naturally titan ginger with rather curly hair. She has dyed streaks of blonde in it though.

She crochets and knits in her freetime, and she has made a lot. Tessa probably has an entire wardrobe of knitted clothing.

She is rather smart but she honestly wasn’t the most interested in school, I mean she is now a hair stylist so she didn’t really need it.

She isn’t the best singer but she really enjoys music and everything so she can be found washing dishes, humming along to Elvis or musical stuff

She will make fun of Cynthia and Dally occasionally whenever they do couple stuff, which means she is in for it whenever her and Darry sit together. You know Cynthia and Soda are just gagging behind them.

Two-Bit is one of her good friends in the gang, they both just enjoy laughing together and Rosemary probably uses dad jokes

Her family is from Lousiana

#the outsiders #dallas winston #ponyboy curtis #johnny cade #darry curtis #the outsiders movie #the outsiders oc #Rosemary Jones #Tessa Jones #Cynthia Stevens #Joey Stevens #RoseDarry #original content

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firsttarotreader · 7 months ago

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Hi mami 😉

perdão por mandar em português, mas sinto que consigo expressar melhor minha pergunta dessa forma, se preferir não postar tudo bem 😊

Essa enxurrada de trabalhos que o Pedro pega, além de uma personalidade meio “workaholic” tbm poderia ser uma tentativa de se afastar dos próprios sentimentos? Como se ele preenchesse o tempo e os pensamentos com trabalho e se abster-se de relacionamentos amorosos?

Hello! Oi! We have a Brazilian fan! 🥰🥰🇧🇷🇧🇷 So, this anon is sending me the question in Portuguese because they feel like they express themselves better in our language. They are asking for the cards if Pedro might be drowning himself in work right now as a way to escape his own feelings and occupy his mind with loads of work and not have time for or to just stay away from relationships or anything like that. The first pull was the 3 of Swords, The Chariot and 10 of Coins.

3 of Swords is a card about hurt, sadness, disappointment and heartbreak. This man has been through a lot of pain and disappointment, he “died many deaths” like he said in the Esquire interview. However, he took the reins of his own life and career, he was determined, focused, he knew where he wanted to go and he took that road with confidence and resilience. No detours. And now, with the 10 of Coins, he has achieved SUCCESS. Not really just fame, but his career, his life, everything he worked so hard for, worked out well and he is feeling satisfied and enjoying his accomplishments. This card is linked mostly to the material, practical side of life, so the thing is, we can say that 3 of Swords could be referring to his relationship heartbreaks too? For sure, but we know he had a lot of disappointment in his career, so now he is really just feeling successful, prosperous, like that��s what he wanted, and it is most likely the reason why he is taking so much work.

The second pull was the 9 of Cups, Ace of Wands reversed and 5 of Cups. 9 of Cups means he is feeling so joyful, so lucky, so satisfied and comfortable. It’s like he’s living a dream come true and he is soaking up that happiness. Ace of Wands reversed is about things just NOT progressing, not working out, his opportunities drying up, losing his moment and not having the energy to do it all over again, and being insecure and stuck. That would lead to the 5 of Cups. Another disappointment, waiting for something to go a certain way and getting cake on his face. He’s too stuck in his past still, and that bitterness. This makes me think he is very scared to be this content and then things just dying out for him and him seeing himself in that heartbreak again.

I would say this shit ton of work is more about him not wanting to miss any opportunities and taking everything he can to avoid losing it all again. He’s making the most out of this successful time in his career.

#work #career #success #relationship #Readings #commitment phobe

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lunarfleur · 2 years ago

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Every Single Adam Banks thought I have (for Miles)

Tagging: @collieflower215 @sophie-i-guess13 @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @stupidratboii (this is for you)

Warnings: mention of death

AN: I had to write this from memory TWICE because Tumblrs fucking stupid

Background

As we know, Adam grew up with a lot of money. He always got the best of everything; clothes, dinner, you name it.

Adam basically grew up without his mom because she died when he was a kid. His dad was the only example he had, which is why he was so awful. He was selfish, he was conceited, he was a bully, and he was sexist. It’s not his fault.

Adam always hung out with the kids who had money, it’s all he’s ever known. Money was what mattered most, in his life. It apparently came before family.

Adam’s dad used all the materialistic things as a substitute for love. (Psssst that’s why Adam’s love languages is gift giving). He rarely ever got anything but a pat on the back for anything. It was always work, money, and being better than everyone else.

“It’s not worth winning if you can’t win big.”

The Ducks

His dad hated it. He thought they weren’t good enough for his son. He thought Adam was too good.

But Adam was okay with it. He just wanted to play hockey.

In the beginning, he felt small. Like, tiny. It was so obvious that, for once, money and talent wouldn’t make them like him. That was a first. They weren’t fazed by how good he was or what brand of clothes he could afford. He had a bad attitude, and the ducks, specifically Jesse, hated it.

But Adam likes Bombay more than Riley. He was nice to Adam and, right away, it was like a pressure being lifted from his shoulders. He could have fun for once. He was allowed to be a kid on Bombay’s team. Bombay went out of his way to take the team to a pro game so they could have fun with each other. Riley would have never.

Jesse ended up being one of the best friends Adam’s ever had. His hatred for his beloved cake eater made Adam a better person and, while Jesse continuously felt bad for how he treated him, Adam would forever be thankful.

D2 was Adam’s peak. Things were great.

He was playing away from his father. This meant that his dad wouldn’t pick apart everything he did right after every game and find something to argue about. This meant that he could relax a little bit.

Adam and Julie got along pretty well. It was surprisingly easy for Adam to adapt to her personality, and she was a fairly patient person so it gave him time to open up more.

However, when his wrist got injured, he was terrified of what it would do to his dad’s dream. Adam just wanted to play, it was his dad who wanted him to go big.

Bombay really became a father figure for Adam during the Goodwill Games. Gordon believed in him and genuinely cared about him, not his hockey talent or money. He was there to give pep talks and pats on the back: the few things Adam never got from his dad. Bombay never hesitated to say, “I’m proud of you.” That’s what Adam needed.

Okay

D3 Adam deserved better. Everything that happened was beyond his control.

All he wanted to do was play hockey. But he was too good at it, so they put him on varsity. It was the worst thing for him.

His friends treated him like the villain because it was either join varsity or not play. He didn’t have a say in what team he played for, and The Ducks were way too quick to assume he just switched sides. They never listened to him.

The varsity treated him like shit. They’d talk about him behind his back, make sly remarks, and sometimes they’d ignore him. They talked about his friends right in front of his face. They forced him to go to parties he didn’t want to go to. And, worst of all, for every single prank they pulled on the other freshmen, they didn’t tell him a thing.

After a while, it was hopeless for Adam to say, “they don’t deserve that,” because he’d get shit for it. So he just stopped talking altogether.

I wish we had gotten to see how the team made up with Adam because, like, one minute they’re fighting and the next they’re friends again?? What??

In my mind, Adam didn’t get anything close to the apology he deserved. He got some mumbled apologies and sincere looks, and he took it because it was more than he’d ever gotten his entire life. But deep down, he wanted to scream at every single one of them. He deserved to.

I hate the way The Ducks were so okay with acting as if Adam was “one of them.” He deserved so much better.

Adam’s love life

Bro has issues. He’s so genuinely bad at interacting with people that he’d ignore you for days on end because he didn’t know how to talk to you.

He’s literally never experienced genuine affection, so he’s so so so scared. Like, oh you want to hold his hand? He all but blows up. He avoids it for quite a while.

Literally all he needs it patience and reassurance. If you listen to him and try to understand why he is the way he is, you’ll get there eventually.

You don’t understand. The bar is so low.

Literally just, like, be nice to him, don’t leave, and treat his friends with respect and he will love you forever. That’s how low the bar is. Do the bare fucking minimum and he’s ready for marriage bro.

But, no, he deserves so much better and I just love him so much.

#miles this is for you #take 2 #fanfiction #the mighty ducks #adam banks

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epersonae · 1 year ago

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fic etc (new version!)

[update March 21, 2024]

These days I'm writing fic for Our Flag Means Death.

Longfic

I have three finished long pieces, in order of connectedness to canon:

Hungry for love, ready to drown (T, 33K) - a Stede POV retelling of season one starting with episode four, lots of missing scenes (so much with clothing but also wound care! dream sequence!). My love letter to canon; I watched those episodes so many times in little bursts to really absorb the writing and acting, and I'm very proud of the results. Goes well with S2 prep, if I may say so. Will probably definitely most likely get a sequel, but it's taking me a while to figure out how to approach it.

the devil's threeway (E, 30K) - Ed POV, starts with a pre-canon encounter with Jack and (non-canonical) Anne Bonney, follows up with a post-S1 meet-up with Anne and (also non-canonical) Mark Read, and then a somewhat unusual reunion with Stede. Includes the fic where Ed would not. Stop. Crying. There is a reasonably likelihood that I will write something similar or equivalent with the canon versions of Anne and Mary, but it's still marinating.

for the benefit of all the broken hearts (E, 62K) - the not RPF but not not RPF that is maybe the best thing I've ever written in any medium for any reason: a fix-it fic for the gorgeous and weird Water Flowing Underground, told from the perspective of the unnamed second wife. My exploration of the aftermath of tragedy, the possibility of repair, and varieties of love. Read the tags, read the author's note, read WFU first (or don't, I'm not the boss of you, and I do know someone who read them out of order and still enjoyed it), but please give it a shot. Posts tagged #carlita coded content are related to this work, sometimes very obliquely. There is also a follow-up fic of missing scenes, end up several worlds away, that still has one chapter remaining (I SWEAR I'm going to finish it), and a short sort of non-linear AU, back on my beat, that explores some alternate endings.

Some favorite shorter pieces

I have begun to long for you, a "mutiny against Izzy succeeds" canon-divergence AU

nice either way, my contribution to the Beard Discourse

Commit to the Bit, modern AU blackbonnet engagement and wedding

Season 2 and post-S2 fic

I spit on your grave - post-S2, Stede and Ed have a serious conversation, starting with how Ed didn't "happen" upon Stede being gut-stabbed, and going some tough places from there

lost and found - post-S2, featuring beach comber Stede and those cake toppers

Through the storm - the crew of the Revenge between episodes 2 and 3. slow and creepy!

in case I never make it through to where you are - bad ending AU set at the end of 3. MIND THE TAGS, it's a rough one.

Other stuff

Occasionally I post OFMD fic recommendations, which started as a weekly thing but, you know. They are still posted in sets of five on Fridays, when I do them, and tagged #five fic friday. (There's no particular system to my listings, just stuff I like that's not PWP.)

Not fic: I am doing a little project where I make/recreate recipes that I have written down but haven't made in a long time (or ever) - that can be found under the tag #food as play. Includes my rewrite of the 40 Orange Cake Recipe!

I have also written a lot of fic for The Adventure Zone, my favorite being The Reckoning Arrives, a 77k fic in which Lucretia, Taako, Merle, and Carey go looking for Kalen.

I wrote quite a bit of my TAZ fic with my late spouse Ryn (@taakovapes). Ryn died in September 2021; here's the post I wrote the week they died. I often post/tag about them and death and grief. (See tags #not all exits are made equal, #[grief dab], and #posts I wish I could send to Ryn in particular.)

#about me #my fic #my writing #ofmd #ofmd fic #taz balance #hiding this in the tags: it's 'carlita' because she is an amalgam of CRJ and Rita (and tbh neither)#and I learned as little about the latter as possible while I was writing #as I said at a party 'everything I know about Rita Ora I learned against my will'#there's a reason the unnamed wife is tagged Original Female Character

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the-sun-is-also-a-star · 1 year ago

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"For someone who loved words as much as I did, it was amazing how often they failed me."

-- If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

“Because freedom, I am told, is nothing but the distance between the hunter and its prey.”

-- On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong

and as for poetry, i like to talk about "Written in my Dreams by W. C. Williams" by Allen Ginsberg with other people because it's short and rolls over the tongue nicely and i like to come back to it, puts a smile on my face, you know?

i'll also never forget "A Carcass" by Charles Baudelaire from when we read it at school years ago and then again in high school and i have now chosen Les Fleurs du mal as one of the books for my oral school leaving exam, so it's definitely one of those authors i read once and was never able to get out of my head

and last but not least, Louise Glück (may she rest in peace) and her "Theory of Memory" which includes the ending "Right now you are a child holding hands with a fortune-teller. All the rest is hypothesis and dream." and i simply don't have a choice but to love this one

i have so many more favourites, but these are the ones i can think of right now hehe <33

what r ur favourite poems and quotes??

those are brilliant actually

mine are quite, different to what one may think but i like finding meaning in things that other people think are only surface level :

思い出なんかいらん - we don't need memories

this is from the anime haikyuu LMAO which is a fucking volleyball anime and it is the team motto of one of the teams. It is quite honestly my life motto at this point. I used to live in the past, excused people for thing they do now because they were different in the past. they were different in my memories. I was so focused on the past i forgot to enjoy my present. I am done doing that. My memories hold me back. I am tired of it.

"to love and lose and still be kind" - warsan shire

this is pretty self explanatory. i dont think I've had a hard life. but i certainly haven't had an easy one. i have a habit of giving too much of myself to people. I'm working on rectifying that whilst still being kind.

"but i cut people out like tags on my clothing" - conan gray

I LOVE people watching its one of my favourite songs. but this line is really important to me. I've cut the tags off of my clothing for as long as I can remember. ever since i was a kid. I also have a habit of cutting out people the second they break my trust. as easy as cutting off tags from my clothing. I don't think its a good habit or a bad habit. it just. is.

"It's always the ones who are quietest who often have the greatest things to say" - TJ Klune, Wolfsong

This is from one of my favourite books of all time. I was a quiet child for a while. I never got excited for anything and after a while my parents suspected I had childhood depression, we still don't know for sure if I did. It makes a lot of sense though. It took me a while to become confident in my own voice and my own opinions. this quote is really important to me.

"Men don't cry. My daddy taught me that. Men don't cry because they don't have time to cry.

I must not have been a man yet because I cried. I bowed my head and cried." - TJ Klune, Wolfsong

This isn't personal to me in anyway, I just really, really love this part of the book and these two lines in particular.

"I'll be your hands." "I'll be your sanity." - TJ Klune, Ravensong

love has always been something I've read about. but this quote takes the damn cake.

as for poems,

At a Funeral by Dennis Brutus

I analyzed this poem for an English Lit class and the story behind why it was written really stuck with me. It was written after the death of Valencia Majombozi who was shot on the day of her graduation from nursing school. Its a protest poem and it just hits really fucking hard.

Death of a Naturalist by Seamus Heaney

This was the first poem that i ever took inspiration from. I had of course written before, but I really enjoyed Heaney's writing style so it strongly influenced my poem Quietude, which I am planning to submit to the empty inkwell publication...hopefully lol

Identity Card by Mahmoud Darwish

This poem is written as a form of protest poetry as well. Mahmoud Darwish was a Palestinian poet, for those of you who do not know and he wrote this poem about being asked for his identity card by Israeli Officers. Its really, really good.

#IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG JSHSKSJSK #this was really fun to make tho #poems #poetry #quotes #english literature #literature #poets #mahmoud darwish

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tea-with-eleni · 11 months ago

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Hers was the first sentient blood you ever dared drink.

In truth, you don’t know why you did it. Perhaps it was just that you wanted to break as many of the chains he threw over your life as possible. Perhaps it was the way she looked at the world with such innocence that you found her irresistible. Perhaps she just had the misfortune of setting up her bedroll closest to yours.

You think you want her to wake up. You want her to see that she shouldn’t have been so ready to invite just anyone to travel with her — psionic connection or not, she allowed a predator into her camp on a few moments’ acquaintance. You want her to turn on you.

Of course, she doesn’t.

“I’m a little hurt you didn’t say something earlier,” she whispers with a soft smile. “I’d like to think I’m understanding, when it comes to things like blood demands. I told you, I think I’m the Dark Urge.” Her silver eyes look as red as yours in the firelight. The scars at her throat ripple a little when she swallows, hard. She is nervous, you can hear her pulse, but she also isn’t lying. She tugs at the laces of her shirt, pulling it a little away from her neck. “I trust you. Take what you need.”

She’s a fool. Or perhaps not — you also notice the fingers of her other hand twitch, beginning to gather the weave. She can call fire as intuitively as you can, part of your shared elven heritage. That actually calms you. If you do lose control, if her blood does overwhelm you, she’s ready to defend herself.

You accept her offer.

Nothing could have prepared you.

You thought, that first night, that nothing could compare to the game animals you stalked in the darkness. They were already so much better than the vermin he made you drink. It was the difference between peasant’s gruel and fresh buttered bread. If a boar is fresh bread to you… she is the richest cake, something worthy of a royal wedding. You aren’t sure if you believe the superstitions about sorcery being part of the blood, but it would explain a lot if it is. She tastes like power.

She has to ask you to stop, but you are able to draw back. You feel a little drunk. She presses her fingers to the oozing wounds at her throat with a slight wince. “I’ll feel that tomorrow,” she whispers. “Did it help?” She looks at you and her eyes narrow. She has seen her blood, still on your lips. She frowns slightly. “Did… No. You would have remembered.”

“Is something wrong, darling?”

She shakes her head. “I thought, for a moment… I don’t remember anything before the nautiloid. There’s just blood.”

You wish she hadn’t said that. As potent as she was, you do still need more. You can’t drain her dry. You make your excuses, though she seems lost in her own thoughts, and vanish into the night.

You hunt well.

It isn’t surprising that she comes to your tent before breakfast is even ready. She’s a little pale, a little less steady on her feet, and, oh yes, there are the marks from your teeth at her throat. “About last night.”

You raise an eyebrow. Part of you wants to convince her she dreamed the whole thing, but she isn’t angry. She’s far too understanding. You admit you aren’t a true vampire. She accepts it. Is she truly this accepting, or simply stupid?

“In the spirit of openness,” she says with a smile, “Your condition punishes you with weakness if you don’t drink blood. That’s straightforward enough to deal with, although I don’t think we’ll like the results if you just take mine. Especially since my blood calls for me to kill anyone and everyone and decorate the camp with their intestines. I could be wrong, but I don’t think that’s normal.” She says it so sweetly. Her posture, her expression, hells, your dim sense of her through your psionic connection… she’s serious.

You’re not sure how to respond to that.

You settle on what you already decided to say before she approached, that you’re happy to make meals of your little band’s many enemies. Perhaps the deaths of bandits and goblins will be enough for her as well, although you’d prefer her to keep the redecorating to a minimum. She agrees, although she sounds a little uncertain. You laugh and suggest maybe she could keep a skull or two around. Her smile turns teasing and she jokes about scaring you off, how she isn’t at all sure that she isn’t the bigger danger to camp. You assure her that you can still drain her if you have to. Perhaps that wasn’t the best choice of words.

The rest of your companions seem rattled, when they overhear your conversation. She defends you. She’s very good at persuading them. She does not mention the part where you technically threatened to kill her.

Over the next few days, you realize that she’s confided her own form of bloodthirst to several of your band already. None of them took her seriously. It unsettles her, how easily they brushed off her peculiarities. She asks you, when you have a quiet moment, how you deal with your own dark urges. You avoid the subject but her question stays with you.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate iii #bg3 astarion #bg3 durge #bg3 dark urge #baldurs gate 3 dark urge #the dark urge #durge x astarion #female dark urge #just a bit of a ramble while I'm at my parents over christmas #can't play rn because my gaming computer is 12 hrs away #so fanart and fanfic it is I guess #astarion pov #second person pov

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bylertruther · 1 year ago

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hotd tragic byler au but ignore 90% of the plot except for it being a gay divorce drama.

will as the dragon-riding heir to the throne and mike as the dutiful prince married to will's step-sister. they were best friends once. more than that, really—something beyond words is more like it. will always wanted to fly across the world with mike, and do nothing but play games and eat cake with him, too. likewise, mike couldn't imagine a world, or any version of himself, without will by his side. it was supposed to be them together, inseparable, always and forever.

then, joyce married james hopper after lonnie's death, and with that arrangement came el. will began thwarting all things to do with his own marriage duties, meanwhile mike had been pressured and persuaded by a great many into courting el.

the thing about mike is that he's the only boy. he has to continue the bloodline somehow, and there is no way around that. he doesn't get to do what he likes with the full support of the crown. he doesn't get to dream and live amongst the clouds either, hiding himself away when life demands action. he has to be realistic, to prove himself and show everyone that he is worthy and capable. and besides, el isn't so bad—not at all. she's fascinating, brave, pretty. and, of course, close in proximity to will and his family. things don't have to change between them—it can still be him and will forever, but will doesn't see it that way.

instead, what he sees is that his entire world's been shifted on its axis. he's been pushed out of the only role he's ever wanted, out of the life he'd dreamed of since before he ever really understood the depth of his affections for his friend. he's on the outside looking in now, having slipped through the fingers of the one man who'd always held him.

will is inheriting a kingdom that doesn't want him as its ruler, and even that is nothing in comparison to whatever his sister can offer. she's prettier, braver, worthier—clearly the superior pick of the lot, if even his first and dearest friend would pick her over him, knowing him as intimately as he does.

it isn't the kind of situation that either can make peace with, and so they don't. hurt turns to bitterness. jealousy turns to resentment. will tells himself that mike chose his chains, and mike burns to ash every time he meets another of will's "friends".

mike + conformity + "i? what have i done but what was expected of me? forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law, while you flout all to do as you please! where is duty? where is sacrifice? it's trampled under your pretty foot again!" + doing everything he thinks he's supposed to do, and wondering why he's still so unhappy.

will + individuality + being alone and unpopular as a result. he refuses to / simply cannot take part in what is expected of him, and so he's forced to pave his own way. he's too different, though, and that makes him an outsider and all-too-easy scapegoat. a dreamer and a dolt—he should've known that what he wanted was too much.

#byler au #au #byler #mine #not rereading this but i had to get it out of my head

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squishymochisoo · 2 years ago

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Department of Lost Souls | Han Jisung

genre: angst, angel-ish au, some crack

pairing: han jisung x lee minho, platonic han jisung x skz

words: 2.8k

synopsis: "Welcome to the Department of Lost Souls" When Jisung first met Chan in the Department of Lost Souls, he thought his dreams had suddenly become too vivid. But suddenly finding out he had 90 days left to live, left him clueless. There's so much he wanted to do with his life.

tw: death

“Hello and welcome to the Department of Lost Souls”

“Hope you had a pleasant journey here. Please wait here while we connect you with our Finders.”

Jisung stood in front of the woman behind the counter and scratched his head in confusion. It looked like an ordinary office. You could see people in office wear bustling around the office. Some talking on the phone, one standing in front of the printer with a big stack of paper. Jisung squinted at the board behind the woman at the counter,

‘Department of Lost Souls’

‘Soul counter: 901,034,941’

‘What on earth is this dream about?’

Sure Jisung has had some weird dreams in his years of living, the one about a pirate breaking into his house and surprising him with a birthday cake and a balloon, being the weirdest he can remember. But this was on another level. What does a department of lost souls even do?

Jisung shrugged and figured since this was a dream that he’d enjoy it. And that was how a brown-haired man who didn’t look much older than him found him snacking in the pantry with a steaming cup of coffee talking to one of the workers.

“Exactly! I believe that clown wear should be considered as casual wear for clowns! I’m so glad we have the same views Yuna!” Jisung exclaimed. Chan looked at the situation confused with a tinge of amusement.

“Han Jisung?”

“Here!” Jisung immediately stood up, unsure why he sounded so excited.

“Hi Jisung, my name is Chan, your Finder. And welcome to the department of lost souls. “ Jisung moved closer to his ‘finder’ and looked around cautiously before whispering.

“And what exactly are you trying to find?” “Lost souls.”

“…Okay… Who lost their soul? I mean what kind of loser loses their soul? Ah! Is this like an insurance coverage thing for people who sold their souls to the devil or something?” Chan chuckled looking at the wide eyed boy.

“Well for starters, I am your finder. So I’d say that you’re one of those who lost their soul”

“I DIDN’T SELL MY SOUL TO THE DEVIL!” Jisung started, panic laced in. “Oh my god! Don’t tell me Changbin sold my soul to the devil! I mean we argue sure, but I wouldn’t sell his soul to the fucking DEVIL!”

“I’m gonna need to re-evaluate all my friendships once this stupid dream is over.” Jisung groaned and rubbed his eyes.

“Hey, hey listen, you aren’t here because you or someone else sold your soul to the devil.” Chan guided Jisung towards a fluffy couch. “Have a seat first and I’ll explain it to you. It’ll be a lot to take in”

Jisung followed and raised his eyebrows at the brown haired man.

“I’m a finder and we find souls –“

“Yes I know, I’ve heard this part already –“ Chan glared at Jisung which instantly shut him up.

“Do you see that?” Chan pointed to the board of soul counters. Jisung nodded. “That is how many souls we have found and helped.”

“Basically we help people who got lost. And give them a little push. We help to ensure that their life has been fulfilled until they pass.”

“Us finders have 90 days to help their clients to the best of their abilities to fulfil their goal. And at the end of the 90 days we part ways and they can pass in peace.” Jisung furrowed his eyebrows.

“Wait! If you’re my finder and I’m the one with the lost soul. Does this mean that I’m going to die in 90 days?!” Chan only smiled sadly at the boy. “Take this as a push to do the things you’ve always wanted to do.”

“…”

“And what if I’ve always wanted to rob a bank?”

“So this is the recruiters. The recruiting team pairs up souls with us Finders based on how well they think we would match together” Chan pointed over to the group of people hovering over their keyboards on their desks. Jisung scanned the room, it looked like any office area with desk partitions separating the colleagues from each other. Some desks were decorated with memorabilia like photos and plushies. How on earth is my dream coming up with such intricate details? I can clearly see the photos and I literally have no idea who these people are.

“So “ Jisung pointed to himself and back to Chan “ we match well?”

“Well we better, if not these are gonna be a tough 90 days” right the 90 days.. and i’m gone.. Wait, why am I taking this dream so seriously.

“Jisung, I can see it on your face that you still think this is a dream.” Chan stated blankly. Jisung only stared at Chan wide-eyed. “It’s real. And even if it’s not just tell me what goals you have. If it’s fake, you will just wake up and live you life. Doesn’t hurt for you to try. “

Jisung thought about it. Chan was right. If this is fake he’d probably wake up with more conviction to achieve his goals and finish whatever he started instead of procrastinating like he does. Oh my god, it this like an epiphany so I live life to the fullest? Wait- is that even what an epiphany is?

A cough startled him out of his thoughts. Chan raised an eyebrow at him as if questioning his thoughts.

“Well, i’ve never thought about it but what could you even do to help? Like would you just be my personal motivational speaker? Or are you like magical. But that wouldn’t be fair because technically I wouldn’t have achieved my dreams by myself? But if you’re just motivating me it doesn’t make sense! What if my wish takes years?” Jisung rambled confused with the system of the organization.

“Then tell me something you can achieve in 90 days”

“Well.. since i’m going to die.” Jisung slightly shivered at the thought. “ I’d like to invite my friends to my place and just hang out with them and buy them things” Jisung smiled slightly at the thought. “They’ve always helped me with all my troubles and being a unknown music producer doesn’t really pay the bills.”

Chan nodded and hummed.

“There’s this guy.. “ Jisung started, unsure if he should continue. The other man only smiled, as if urging Jisung to continue. “His name is Minho, well he’s in the group of friends that I just mentioned. And I really like him – no actually never mind scrap that” Jisung vehemently shook his head at the thought.

“I can’t.. if I’m leaving in 90 days anyways” Jisung whispered. Chan offered a light touch on his shoulder. “Anything else?”

“I just want to finish this one song that’s been in my drafts for a year” At the mention of this Chan’s face lit up slightly. “Well I could help you with that! I loved making music in my previous life”

Jisung stared at Chan in awe.

“That’s so cool! So you’re not like an angel but you were human?”

“Do I look like i have a thousand eyes and wings?” Jisung snorted at the reply. “So do I just wake up from this or?”

“You’re not asleep Jisung. The door is there. “ Chan pointed to the door behind Jisung, leading the brown haired boy to it.

“Wait you’re leaving me alone? What happen to being my personal motivational speaker?”

“I never said that, you did.” Jisung pouted. “I’m just here to help you start the things you’ve always wanted to Jisung. But i can stay with you for the rest of the day if you wanted me to.“ At this statement, Jisung’s face lit up once more and dragged Chan through the door that lead exactly through Jisung’s front door.

“Yo what in the fuckery is this door, oh my god you ARE magic”

| |

The two months passed with Jisung going above and beyond for all his friends. And Chan stopping in at times to just chat with Jisung, keeping him company. He knew how hard it was. He’s watching hundreds of people know about their upcoming demise and still try to live on as it nothing was wrong. Chan wished he could help Jisung. Within the two months, a bond that Chan has never felt with any of his clients formed between the two of them. There were nights when Jisung cried himself to sleep not knowing what to do or realizing he would eventually have to leave his friends – not wait his family behind. The emotional attachment Chan held for Jisung wished he could turn the tides and stop what he knew was going to happen, happen. But alas there will always be things we can’t control.

“No way! It’s the headphones I’ve been wanting to buy. Sung, how did you afford this?” Changbin exclaimed in awe staring that the gift he just unwrapped on his lap. Noises from the other side of the sofa increased as the others opened their gifts. Hyunjin getting the art paints of the highest grade that he could never have justified buying. Felix getting a new keyboard and mouse. Seungmin getting a film camera. Jeongin getting a some clothes and a bag. And finally Minho, getting a necklace and a pair of boots. Just like the elders used to say, gifting someone shoes will lead them to walking out of your life. But this time I will be the one walking out.

“Sung! This is amazing thank you! I love you!” Hyunjin shouted in excitement, throwing himself at the boy sitting on the bean bag in his living room. The others followed, pouncing on Jisung as they all thanked the boy.

“How dd you even manage to buy all these?” Seungmin questioned. “You didn’t rob a bank or something right” Jisung interally scoffed. If only Chan would’ve let him, he wished.

“I’ve been saving up to buy all of you guys these. You all always take care of me and I just can’t express how blessed I am to have all of you in my life.” Jeongin looked like he was going to make fun of Jisung being sappy but before he could Jisung continued. “I really love all of you. And I hope you guys will know that. Never forget that please.” Minho frowned slightly. Was something wrong? Why was Jisung talking like this. Minho couldn’t even finish his thoughts as he caught the glimmer of a tear on Jisung’s cheek. He reached out his hands to pull Jisung into his chest.

“Hey, don’t cry Sung. We know you love us, we love you too” Jisung let out a sob and wiped his tears, squeezing this hand in between the tight gap between his face and Minho’s chest.

“Yea, I know. Sorry guys, just feeling sentimental these days.” Jisung let out a small laugh.

“Well, how about another game of mariokart!” Felix smiled as he patted Jisung on the back.

“Loser buys ice cream from downstairs!” Hyunjin declared earning a whine from Jeongin. Jisung stared fondly at his friends fighting over which character to choose. Minho kissed the top of his head.

“What was that for?” Jisung slightly looked up not wanting to leave the warmth of Minho’s arms around him.

“Nothing” Minho whispered and shook his head, looking up to stare at the rest starting the game.

Jisung slept soundly in Felix’s lap as the other stroked his hair. Jisung accidentally falling asleep after rounds of games played with the group. Felix looked up at the guys all looking at Jisung.

“Guys..” Felix started out. “ I’m worried about Sungie” Jeongin glanced at Felix.

“It’s just. I know he’s showing his love for us. But it feels like a goodbye somehow” Felix slightly let out a whimper at the thought. “Oh Lixie, I don’t think that’s the case. I’m sure he’s alright. And even if he is not, we will be by his side all the way” Changbin comforted the rest.

“Yea, we know Sungie, whatever he’s going through, he’ll bounce back up in no time.”

The group never let Jisung out of their sights for the most part. With all the love Jisung was giving, he was given tens times back by each of them.

“Sungie! Look what I painted for you with the paints you got me” Jisung had been begging for a Hyunjin paitain for the longest time and the older has always declined, jokingly saying that he didn’t deserve such art when Jisung knew Hyunjin was just too shy and felt like he didn’t have enough talent to have his paintings be given as ‘gifts’ The incredible painting of Jisung’s favourite flower and a silhouette of the 7 of them by the park now hung on the wall staring at him as he fell asleep.

“Jisung! I was trying out this new cheesecake recipe! Try it” Felix would come storming into his apartment with a new recipe he tried out. Somehow, It was as if Felix knew what desserts he was craving. A first it was once a week he came in shoving a new dessert down Jisung’s throat. But recently he’s been coming in at least four times a week. Felix has always said he was swarmed with work and barely had the time to bake as it is. But somehow he was baking so much these days. If this thought had even crossed Jisung’s mind at one point of time, it did not stay long for him to have questioned it.

“Jisung hyung, i want to go shopping, Let’s go!” Jeongin would now drag Jisung out more, shopping for clothes and accessories. Buying matching items for the rest of the group to wear. Matching items was most of the groups’ love language. It felt as though they were connected in a way.

“Oi Jisung let’s go to the beach. I want to take some pictures” Seungmin would bring Jisung to the most randomest places to get good pictures. It started out with going to the beach and gardens. Now they go on hikes and restaurants that nobody has heard of. Sometimes bringing the whole group like when they went snorkelling.

“Of course I’ll help you Sung” Changbin said when Jisung asked him if he could help with one of his songs. A song about his friends. “Is this.. about – us?” Changbin asked carefully. To which Jisung only smiled. Changbin loved the idea of sharing his love for his friends through a way where all his friends loved. Music. Jisung pouted days and nights was poured into the song – with Changbin checking in at times when Jisung got stuck.

“I love your music Hannie. I’ll forever love whatever you write” Mino has said one night as they were watching a movie together on Jisung’s couch. Jisung has quietly asked if making music was a right decision for him. “I’ll always be your number one fan and I’ll always be the first to listen to everything you put out” That night when Jisung fell asleep, Minho took out his phone and turned on notifications for Jisung’s soundcloud.

It was only a few weeks later when a notification on Minho’s phone lit up at 3:25 in the morning.

Forever Young.

That was what it was titled. Minho listened to the song, eyes glistening at the love he could hear from Jisung’s voice. It was a song about all seven of them together. A song that he knew Jisung had been working on with Changbin. Minho shared the link on his Instagram and sending a message to Jisung before tucking himself back in bed.

>> SUNGIEEE YOU’RE SONG WAS AMAZING AS USUALLY!! Nightnight baby <3

It was 10:25 the next morning when Minho awoke to another notification. From soundcloud? Another song?

My Daisy

I’ve been trying to write this song for years but never got to finishing it. I just didn’t know if the person I wanted to write this song about would ever hear it. There are so many things I want to share with you. So many moments i want to have with you. So many words that needs to be said. But sometimes, some words are better left unsaid. I love you with all my heart and maybe in another life we could have our happy ending we both deserve. My daisy, it’s always been you and will always and forever be you.

A tear fell on Minho’s screen as Jisung’s soft voice echoed through the room through the speakers on his phone. The caption he wrote for this song illuminating his face from the dark, curtain-drawn room. He scrambled to text Jisung as the last note of the song ended.

>> I love you too Sungie.

It’s been 90 days since Jisung first met Chan. And Minho was 40 mins late to sending that message.

Some things are better left unsaid but telling you I love you too late will always be my deepest regret.

Hi, I suddenly felt the urge to write and this has been WIP (with on paragraph for a year or two) Finished it up in one sitting at its 2am now. This means it did not beta it! it was meant to be a longer fic but I'm tired

Let me know what you think and all!! hehe would appreciate all the support! <3

#stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz #minsung #han jisung #stray kids angst #han jisung angst #lee minho #bang chan #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

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declanowo · 1 year ago

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31 Days of Horror - Day 16 - The Secret of Marrowbone

16/10/23

I have a vivid memory from my childhood where my parents sat me down and we discussed where I would want to go if they died. Morbid, I know, but the idea always lingered with me after my discussion. In the end, we agreed my eldest sister, and my brother would look after me, and while none of this ever came into fruition, for a while I was plagued with dreams where this played out. In the end, death was an avenue for a new life I could visit in my dreams.

The Secret of Marrowbone, or simply Marrowbone, is a 2017 film directed by Sergio G. Sánchez. It follows a family as they flee from their father, only for their mother to pass away, and for the eldest sibling to have to hide this fact until he turns twenty-one, and can legally watch over them.

Before moving much further with this one, this film is built upon secrets, twists and turns that we watch unfold, and for this reason, I feel it necessary to warn anyone who may read that I will be spoiling this! I would very much recommend this film, and I’m unsure how the experience would be if the plot twists had been unearthed beforehand, so here is that warning!

To start, I want to discuss the reason I wanted to watch this film in the first place: the cast. George MacKay plays Jack Marrowbone, the eldest sibling of the family. I had seen him before in 1917 and Captain Fantastic, both of which I had watched for lessons in school and college, and while I thought both films were good but not captivating for me, he was definitely the stand out of them both for me! Anya Taylor-Joy plays Allie, a librarian who falls in love with Jack, and befriends the family. I love a heap of films she has been in, including The VVitch, The Menu, Emma and Last Night in Soho. Next is Charlie Heaton, who plays Billy Marrowbone, and although I have only seen him before in Stranger Things, I think the wildly different characters he plays between this and that are to the credit of his acting! Finally, Mia Goth plays Jane Marrowbone, and is in two of my favourite films, X and Pearl, as well as several others I love, such as Infinity Pool and The House. All of them, and everyone else in this film, puts in a great and believable performance as their characters, making them feel deeply real.

For a large majority of the film, we inhabit the Marrowbone house, which I think is an excellent setting. For one, the set design is great at making the house feel old and withered, yet having some excellent shading to characters interests and design tastes, where we can reasonably believe that they have been spending all their time there! The colours are dull and grey, which usually I would find boring, but they have a deeper purpose as they suggest the isolation and confined lives the younger siblings have been forced into. These greys and browns juxtapose the bright colours outside, and at the end of the film, as Jack finds himself free when he abandons the house, rushing through fields to visit Allie or wandering into the nearby village to sell cakes.

As far as the film's story itself, I enjoyed it! I think that the familial bond of the characters makes you care about it a whole lot more, and the mystery makes the whole ordeal captivating. Even as I sit writing this, I am putting together some of the imagery and plotlines purposes, such as Sam Marrowbone, not wanting to look into mirrors, believing ghosts are in them. Of course this makes sense when you find out about the ending.

I guess I should move onto what the plot twist was, because I believe it shaped a lot of the film! That being that the family we watch bond and grow across the course of the film, is mostly dead. After their serial killer father made his way into the house, he killed all three of Jack's siblings, leaving him alive as he locked his father in the walls. Everything we have seen play out has been a result of Jack taking on his siblings' personalities because he couldn’t cope with the fact he didn’t protect them.

The ending is harrowing, while I had a hunch that it was coming, it really hurts to watch - we see how much everyone in the family cared and loved for each other, only for the final realisation that none of this happened.

I will say, the trope usually results in some very awful depictions of real people with DID and often leads to a huge spread of misinformation. I always think of Split, which had a massive and awful effect, all because it portrays a character with this mental health condition as villains, rather than understanding that most people with this condition are victims. And so, while I felt this depiction may not be as harmful as many others as a result of the character not leaning into violence and harmful behaviour, it is something that I always think about when watching that kind of film.

By the end of this film, I found myself heavy with sadness. It is a story that relies on your connection to the sibling bond of the characters, and I very much loved it. Although sometimes the story felt a little like it was dragging on, or like a ball of yarn that was filled with knots and impossible to collect, it manages to stitch itself together by the end into a single coherent piece which is a delight to think about and watch.

7/10

#halloween #horror #horror movies #creative writing #literature #reviews #review #marrowbone #gothic

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jonghyuns-husband · 2 years ago

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(CW // Dec 18th, suicide, victims of harassment, violence, mental health talk)

Since I want to spread this hashtag more, I would like to talk about the Shawols that I lost over the years and bring their voices up.

Clem was a friend I met on Wattpad back in 2015 when I was 11 and she was 14. She was one of the closest and the first online friend I’ve ever had. She loved to make SHINee stories for fun and she also helped me to write better. She was an amazing writer who took great passion for her work as well as her being a big advocate for the LGBTQ+ community according to her sister who came out as lesbian a year before we met.

Unfortunately, Clem was bullied at her college and her workplace, including on her online accounts. This would occur about 1-2 month after the death has been announced. On the 15th of December 2018, 3 days after Jonghyun’s first anniversary, she couldn’t take it anymore and took her own life. She was 17.

Sam was a girl in the secondary school who was 2 years older than me. I remembered talking to her once and that was it. She also really loved Jonghyun and Onew and was a BIG fan of the group.

One day, she stopped coming to class. There was a rumour going around saying that Sam took her own life after being hate bombed for posting about Jonghyun positively to cope with the pain. The last time she was in class, a guy mentioned his passing without warning which triggered the girl to stand up and leave. Ever since then, she was never seen again. The guy thought that it was his fault, but it turned out that she was going through a lot recently and couldn’t take it anymore. If it was true, then she died on the 9th of January 2018 aged 16 years old.

Ayami was a close friend of mine since Year 1. Interesting fact, she was actually born in Japan and then came to the UK when she was only 4. That summer, she enrolled in my school where we met on the first day. She didn’t speak much English, but luckily I knew a bit of Japanese so we were able to have a connection together. She was a sweet girl that would look out of anyone who looked like that needed help. She even loved to cook and wanted to start her own sweet shop one day where she would make sweet treats such as cakes, cupcakes, brownies, cookies, etc. Fun fact, my blog @yutassweetshop is actually based on her childhood dream and yes NCT bias was also Yuta! It’s a sweet (no pun intended) tribute to the one I called noona, and yes I’ll never stop calling her that until the day I die. Never mind, she’ll still be my noona anyways.

Although yes she had been harassed around his passing when we went to school together, there were other stuff in her life that really pulled the trigger on her head. I could make a separate post talking about Ayami and what she had went through so you would know, but to keep it simple, her father did some horrible things to her as a kid that when she found out, she took her own life out of fear. She was 14.

The reason why I mentioned her was the fact that Jonghyun’s passing was one of the chain of events she had to go through in her life, and you never truly know what someone has gone through already. Even though she didn’t die over it, that still doesn’t make it ok regardless. It’s still an awful thing to do to someone who is grieving by acting like they are complete strangers and treating them like they had never once seen the man before.

Those 3 girls didn’t took their lives because they were obsessive fans, they died because they were HARASSED to suicide. I know a friend’s friend who was also a blinger that took her own life and her family thought it was because she was sad over the passing of Jonghyun. That wasn’t what happened. She was beaten up at school and was told to kill herself ever since she came back from the Christmas holidays. She ended up doing so in her room and she was so close to celebrating her 16th birthday. It was the same as Jonghyun’s. She took her own life 2 days before at age 15.

There were some people in my cousins’ lives that killed themselves too, but I don’t know them very much, but all of them will be missed. Any Shawols that I’ve missed, please leave their names below and tell me one thing you loved about them. You can even talk about their favourite song or albums.

This tormenting K-Pop fans thing needs to stop. I don’t care if you think teenage girls screaming about their BTS biases are cringe, this needs to end. It’s not funny anymore and it’s claiming lives. I could of lost my friend that I met last year just because of the dumb messages of them saying that he was disrespecting a “deadman.” It just seems so tone deaf that really, they’re actually doing the disrespecting and not him.

This is already a difficult month for all of us and I just beg, PLEASE DO NOT HARASS ANY SHAWOLS. Not just in this month where it’s his anniversary, but WHOLE FUCKING YEAR. Please treat us like human beings and stop making us change for someone who barely even knows about the guy until the news broke and now you want to be the fucking hero when you’re not.

Why don’t you do all of us a favour and just fuck off. I’m sure most of us would want that now. This is why some Shawols like me haven’t yet stopped grieving because of how badly people treated us over the years. It has been 5 years, instead of telling us to “let him rest in peace”, how about you let us “grief in peace.”

It’s like what they say, “don’t give his family condolences if you aren’t going to respect his fans.”

Never mind, I did.

Rest in peace to Clem, Sam, Ayami and everyone else who took their lives due to these kinds of people either in real life or online. Rest in peace to the main guy himself, Kim Jonghyun. Thank you so much for taking care of those lost souls for us. Trust me, this was never your fault. Don’t ever blame yourself for any of this. Disgusting pricks like them (the people who harasses Shawols) has always existed since the beginning of time.

Please don’t cry because of the Shawols that went your route but be happy since you made their dreams come true.

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ohraicodoll · 2 years ago

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Interwoven | Chapter 3

Chapters: 3/6 Fandom: The Sandman (Comics & TV 2022) Rating: Mature/Explicit Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Original Female Character, Dream/Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Original Female Character, Hob Gadling, Original Characters, Matthew the Raven, Lucienne, Calliope, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Calliope, The Endless, Eve, Delirium, Death, Desire Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Past Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Possessive Behavior, Domestic Abuse, Domestic Violence, Jealousy, Trauma Responses Tags: Character Development, Established Relationships, General complicated feelings, meeting the family, meeting the friends, talk about fantasies, domestic life, fluff, past Relationships, ANGST, OFC: Dahlia, Named Reader, 1st POV

Summary: She had very few people in her life and while he denied it, Dream had so many. People that cared for him, people that warned her. Or in other terms, Dream and Dahlia’s casual relationship is turning not so casual. Chapter Summary: Dream, The Dreaming, and the Gates of Horn and Ivory.

My first couple of days in the Dreaming had been better than I could have expected. We had mostly stayed in the bedroom. No complaints there. But eventually I dragged us both out to meet Lucienne for my “surprise” which was cake with her, Merv, Matthew, Abel and Cain, and a few others of the usual palace staff. They all seemed a little awkward at Morpheus’ presence, not used to him being so involved, but it had relaxed after a bit when he didn’t seem to reprimand them for not attending to their duties and let everyone be. There were a lot of mutterings about him being in a better mood and I could have smirked. It had been cute even if I felt a little embarrassed at the attention. Lucienne had picked a few books out she thought I’d love and Matthew had decided he could decorate better than the kitchens and redid the frosting on the cake for me. It had resulted mostly in tiny bird prints and smeared icing but it was the thought that counted. After, Morpheus had led me to the floating stairs that went to his quarters where he liked to work in peace away from the throne room. It was always on the upper most level of the palace, the bedroom he had created attached to the main room he usually stayed, but I was surprised when this time the stairs led to a hallway with two different doors. “When did this get here?” I had asked in confusion, mentally grumbling over the constantly changing palace and never being able to keep track of where things were. Dream stopped at the new door, the wood a rich oak with ornate swirls and stars, “An hour or so ago. Roughly around the time Matthew got cake on Lucienne’s tables.” His tone was light and slightly amused but entirely arrogant as if the shifting and creation of new things were nothing. So cocky. And I guess they were nothing to him. He was Dream of the Endless and this was the Dreaming. Nothing was beyond him. He’d opened the door, leading me into a grand living space, taking in the dark green fabric of the couch and cherry brown of the wooden desk against a large open window. The walls were warm black stone, sunlight pouring through the grand stained glass windows and the fluttering black curtains. There was even a wardrobe, four poster bed, and a bookcase in an adjoining bedroom. Then he’d told me the quarters were mine to spend my time how I wished and to keep my belongings in, generally as my own space. Rooms, he had made me rooms in the palace, down the hall from him. A permanent space. It had been overwhelming, my heart pounding as I took in the small details he had crafted. And I had smiled breathlessly, unable to put the nervousness and flutters in my stomach into words.

While it was nice to have my own bed, not much sleeping was done in it. It now served to provide an alternative to his own when we didn’t make it that far…along with his couch…and my desk. We made good use of the space. Morpheus explained that day and night still passed as normal, though it was because of his whim. That at least helped me keep track of time and not fuck up my schedule completely for when it was time to go back home. But he himself didn’t sleep, instead settling for working while I slept.

Waking up in the Dreaming was different than in the Waking world. For one, there was no grogginess and it was like coming out of the most restful sleep of your life. Being in the Dreaming itself meant your mind could relax so your body could fully focus on replenishing itself. I hadn’t even known I could even sleep in this realm but being physically there meant I still had to operate as normal, eating and resting as I did in the Waking. Secondly, there was a constant steady hum of Morpheus’ power in everything. I wasn’t sure if everyone could feel it, but I certainly could. In the ground under my feet, the wind that caressed my skin, and in every physical item I touched, I could feel it even in my sleep like a comforting lull. It was soothing, the ghost of his embrace on me at all times, resonating in the jewelry he gave me. It was a delicious feeling and utterly comforting. I blinked awake at the feel of fingers tracing my naked back, the barest touch that brought me to consciousness immediately. I smiled and turned a bit, finding the dreamlord sitting on the side of the bed, fully clothed with his cloak in place and embroidered flames flickering softly. His face was calm, a soft smile tilting his lips and stars burning brightly as he watched the movement of his fingers in silent rapture. “Hi,” I whispered, blinking at him over my arms as I stayed on my stomach, breasts pressed against the sheets. The blanket had ridden down to my lower hips and I was still naked from before I fell asleep when we had laid together. The twin stars in the black pits of his eyes flickered up to meet mine, the quiet galaxies swirling and at peace. “Hello, little dreamer,” he whispered back, continuing the slow drag of his fingers. I smiled and relaxed, tingles fluttering to life in the wake of his touch. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the small of my back, a slow drag of his lips that made a sigh leave my mouth. At the sound he laid more along my spine, leaning over me with his hand kneading the back of my thigh. I couldn’t help but arch my back at the sensation and was instantly awake and aware of him entirely. His hand slipped under the blanket, gently kneading my backside and letting out a groan against my skin as I pushed my body into him. Waking up to him was starting to be my favorite thing. He climbed onto the bed, leaning over me fully as the velvet texture of his cloak cascaded along my body with the whisper of distant stars, and started nipping between my shoulder blade. I let out a groan as his fingers found my already wet core at the same time, instantly ready for him as always. The way I reacted to him was becoming involuntary, able to feel when he entered the room or when he simply laid eyes on me. I was constantly aware of him. “Fuck,” I hissed into the pillow and shivering at his hair brushing my shoulders, the soft strands tickling the heated skin. “You feel wonderful,” Morpheus whispered against me, slipping a finger into me. I rocked against him and knew his clothes were gone even without looking, his bare arm sliding underneath me, pinned against the bed so he could palm my breast.

The biggest perk to the Dreaming was his ability to simply vanish our clothes away. It made things go so much faster. He pumped slowly in and out of me lazily, drawing it out and letting the pleasure build a bit at a time. It kept me at a steady plateau, a constant that drove me crazy. My fingers clawed into the sheets, clenching them tightly as I rocked with the movement of his hand and moaned. His skin was hot against mine, burning and glowing with otherworldly power as it always did in the Dreaming, and I wanted to push him to go faster. While I loved how he seemed to look in the Waking, there was no denying who and what he was when he was in his realm. He was Dream of the Endless, a monarch and being greater than a god, and his attention was all on me. “Morpheus,” I growled and felt his smirk on my back, the sound of his name something he was always pleased to hear. His fingers tweaked my nipple and I gasped, arching back into him, “What do you need, little dreamer? Tell me.” I was wet and could feel it leaking over my thighs and onto his hand as he kept his steady pace, not speeding up in the least despite my urgings. His knees were on either side of my thighs, our legs tangled as he arched over my body, mouth dragging lazily over my back. “ You. Now,” I hissed, commanding. He made a sound almost like he was considering it, a gentle hum from his lips, thumb managing to find my clit at the same time and I moaned even louder, “My sweet Dahlia, where have your manners gone?” My name was honey in his mouth, the dark amusement painting each syllable. I wanted to simultaneously smack him and shove him over, taking what I needed myself, “Fucking now, please, your highness.” Dream chuckled and the sound was like black velvet and the cool brush of the wind in Autumn. Before I could snap at him, he pulled his fingers from me abruptly and replaced them with the hard length of his erection, meeting zero resistance as he slid in easily in one motion. I gasped and he pulled my hips to meet his with still soaked fingers, thrusting hard into me. The feeling was divine, my sensitive nipple between his fingers while he plunged into me over and over again hard into the mattress. His body was heavy against my back and the sensation of him pinning me down was surprisingly erotic as his rough pants filled my ears. His nails dug into my thighs and I could feel him losing rhythm from the deep angle, the slick sounds of our bodies filling the room. My hand reached behind me, tangling into the inky wisps of darkness that was his hair and pulling a little, a groan tearing from his lips as he bit into the soft flesh of my neck. His name was a whispered prayer on my lips and the sound of it seemed to do something to him, driving him over the edge as he clasped onto my tightly and rammed hard and fast into the wet warmth of my sex. I could lose myself like this a thousand times over and never have enough.

And then we were groaning as our orgasms hit, the pleasure tearing through me hard enough I could see stars dancing behind my eyelids. If we had been in the Waking my nails would have torn through the sheets. I could feel his release fill me and the way his chest rose and fell against my back while his heart beat was fast and loud. I was almost sobbing, pleasure setting off electricity through every bit of my nerves. I was weightless, held only by his arms. We both collapsed to the bed, breathing loudly in the vast space of my room as we came down from the high. The room was lightening, the sun beginning to stream in through the closed lace curtains and onto our skin. I felt warm and relaxed, muscles nothing but soup in my skin and the pleasant thrum of being satiated coursing through me. Dream turned us to our side so he wasn’t crushing me, fully nestled inside of me with one arm still over my breasts and the other wrapped around my waist now. I blew out softly, trying to catch my breath and he kissed my neck gently over where he had bit down. “Well that was a nice way to wake up,” I mumbled, mouth dry from the sounds I’d been making. He pressed his forehead to the side of my head, a soft chuckle tickling the skin there as the sweat cooled on us, “Believe it or not, I had not intended for that to occur. I simply came to wake you.” “Consider it a job well done, I am very much awake,” I grinned and laughed then heard him groan as the action caused me to clench around him. I was tempted to laugh again to draw another sound from his mouth but resisted. I turned my head so I could see him, black eyes sparkling with stars under his mop of jet black and skin so pale against mine. He was beautiful, lips slightly pink and a slight flush to his cheeks. Even looking like he was carved from marble, he looked warm and alive. I brought my hand up to his face and caressed the high point of his cheekbones, thumb skating over his lips. Gently, he kissed the pad of my thumb and bent down, kissing me with such tenderness it made my heart clench. It was very obvious that he’d been enjoying having me in the Dreaming with him. He seemed lighter and more at ease. When he had to leave and go to the throne room to work, he would ask for me to come along if only to stay near him. Usually I’d lounge on the steps with a book or lay my head in his lap while he rifled through future plans for improvements to the realm.

It turned out he did in fact eat, only in his realm and not necessarily because he had to. When I would eat he would join me, though I had rolled my eyes the first time he had clapped to summon Taramis, his waiter, to take our food requests. It had been entirely unnecessary and such a snobby move. Moments like that reminded me that he was a king, after all, but it was ridiculous all the same. But he’d been happier than I’d ever seen him in our time together and I let it pass. Even though I'd been with him and exploring the Dreaming for months now, he was taking pleasure in this new situation and I was more than happy to go along with it. He pulled back slightly and smirked when I chased his lips, kissing him lightly a couple more times, “As much as I wish to not part from you, I had planned to come and inform you I will unfortunately be busy today. There are matters I need to take care of outside of the palace so I might not see you until later.” I pursed my lips and nodded, fingertips continuing to trace the hard line of his jaw, “Don’t let me distract you from your work. I’ll be fine, you don’t have to babysit me.” The darkness of his eyes swirled and I could tell he was thinking something but instead turned and kissed the palm of my hand, “Matthew is available should you wish for company. Try not to get into trouble, little dreamer.” I shot him a mock offended look and then groaned as he finally disentangled from me, the absence of him leaving me a little cold. Leaning down, he gave me another kiss, promising to see me later before waving at himself. I watched as his clothes and long cloak shimmered back into being. The sight of his skin disappearing caused me to pout and then he was gone entirely to another part of the Dreaming. One minute there, the next gone. Laying sprawled out across the sheets, I blew a breath out from my lips and stared at the vaulted ceiling of my room. It was so different from waking up in my little apartment, the sound of the street coming through at all hours and the familiar crack in the ceiling almost a comfort. Here hardly any sounds came through the window to disturb me, but the fragrance of blossoms and fresh rain carried through on the gentle breeze. Sometimes the sky was dotted with flying creatures and birds, but they never got too close to the palace towers.

This place was much grander than anything I’d ever experienced, a fairytale land, and…was mine. He’d made this room for me. Gave me beautiful clothes to wear, supplies if I wished to write, books and space for knick knacks on the shelves. The whole thing was crafted with me in mind and what I enjoyed, the aesthetic not that far off from my apartment but nicer. My heart had tightened at the gesture and the realization that no one had ever made me something before. And then that thought was bittersweet on my tongue. I’d been visiting the Dreaming for a while but something was different about actually being there in full form. It was like I was seeing it all with brand new eyes, not a temporary visitor but a real guest. I didn’t feel as much like an intruder in this way and the staff seemed happy to have me. And then there was the fact that the ruler of it all, Dream of the Endless, wanted me . I chewed on my lip at the thought, a soft blush heating my cheeks, and I rose while wrapping the sheet around me and headed to the washroom. One thing I didn’t let Dream do was assign me a maid. I’d laughed out loud at the idea before realizing he was serious and genuine then adamantly protested the idea, feeling a little ridiculous. I didn’t need someone called the Fashion Thing to help me dress or one of the palace staff to draw me baths. It was a little medieval and I liked my privacy so finally he relented. While he was in a way royalty, I was not and didn’t need to be treated as such. Washing up and getting dressed in a long, soft black wrap dress with autumnal embroidered leaves and flowers at the hem, I pinned my wet hair into a messy pile onto my head to let air dry and left my quarters. Sometimes it was nice to just walk through the heart of the Dreaming rather than Dream Walking and I didn’t have anywhere specific I wanted to go.

Lucienne was working with Merv to get a new section of the library complete and didn’t need help and I kept my time at the pair House of Secrets and House of Mysteries short. While Cain and Abel had a purpose and were their own stories, seeing Cain attack Abel made me uncomfortable. It was the way of things here and they kept it to a minimum around me after the first time when Morpheus had had to explain, but it was hard to keep my reactions in check at the violence. Residents of the Dreaming skittered past me as I headed to the front of the palace to leave, little wolf cubs in dresses, a princess in a large yellow ball gown, a shadow figure made of eyes, all waving as I passed. Dreams and nightmares alike wandering around. I left through the front and the gatekeepers looked down at me, the large bodies of the Wyvern, Griffin, and Hippogriff shuffling on their pedestals. Wyvern huffed in greeting, hot breath rustling my hair as I looked up at it, “Good morning, Lady Dahlia.” The other two echoed their greetings, Griffin extending his head. I smiled and raised my arm, stroking the soft feather like fur of his neck as I had multiple times before. Sometimes I’d taken to lounging near them, leaning against the Hippogriff’s large body or nestled against the Griffin’s wings. They were always kind to me, showing me respect when I most likely hadn’t earned it and alerting Morpheus anytime I entered the palace. He wasn’t nearly as relaxed with them, but I couldn’t help being comfortable in their presence. They seemed to care for their master which made me like them more. “I’m not a Lady, Wyvern,” I smiled, nails scratching the spot I knew Griffin liked on his outstretched neck while looking up at the large dragon-like creature, “You don’t have to call me that.” “All the same, Lady,” Hippogriff answered with his own huff. I rolled my eyes and gave Griffin a final pat even as he nudged my hand, “I’m going exploring for a while but I’ll be back.” I didn’t have to tell them but knew they’d convey it if Morpheus asked. He could locate me in the Dreaming easily, even if I wasn’t wearing the black gem necklace he’d given me, but better to leave breadcrumbs so he’d be comfortable leaving me alone. They all bowed their heads and I left, headed to the Gates of Horn and Ivory so I could reach the shores of the Dreaming. Dream Walking was in my nature, something that I couldn’t ignore for too long. Between the urge to explore, doors randomly appearing, and my own curiosity I had made it a point to still see whose dreams I could visit, but learned to try and start off outside the Heart of the Dreaming when starting. Before, I would find myself in the dream of whoever was nearby my apartment or if I was thinking of someone particular, but here I was surrounded by all living things and that meant I could end up honestly anywhere. It’d been confusing and weird so if I left the Heart’s boundaries I could more easily target where I wanted to go. I was taking the long way today, choosing to walk out of the Heart rather than vanish to the shores in a blink. In truth, the Gates were intimidating, huge against my small form and I was afraid I couldn’t even open them. But also, something I had noticed a couple times before… As the Gates opened on their own and allowed me to pass through, I watched as they closed and took in the intricate carvings there. Morpheus said the gates and his helm were made from the bones and horns of old gods that had once tried to take over the Dreaming. He’d defeated them and carved the gates himself as a reminder. He didn’t talk much about it, but I figured that was because he never liked talking about situations where he “lost.” My fingers traced over the images on the doors, brow furrowed. I never got the chance to examine the details thoroughly, always moving onto the next thing or having Dream whisk me away. But I could see it now. It was a story. A story about him, his face easily discernible in the ivory material with a huge image of his helm carved on both sides high above. “So you noticed that,” a voice asked behind me, startling me. I whirled, pulling my hand away as if I’d been burned and noticed a woman standing behind me. She had long black hair, black eyes warm, and a long white sheath dress draped over her form. While she looked normal, it was hard to determine if she was old or young, her face beautiful but unremarkable. Her voice was soft but slightly rough, experience weighing each word. But there was a maternal feeling that radiated from her and I found myself relaxing without understanding, “I beg your pardon?” She smiled and came to my side, black tresses swaying in the light breeze as her eyes took in the carvings on the door, “Our lord does like to torture himself so. He leaves the things that pain him scattered around him like traps, waiting for them to draw blood.” My eyes were on her, a frown on my lips, “Sometimes we keep the things that hurt us around as reminders to do better.” Her smile was sad, “It can be both. Lessons and masochism.” Chewing on my lower lip, I examined the carvings again and the real reason why I was interested. There was a woman carved there alongside him, face close to his and eyes locked. She was pretty and I hated the bubbling of jealousy I felt low in my stomach, the absurdity of it all. That this woman was important enough to be carved into the gates, a permanent memory of them both. “Her name was Alianora,” the woman next to me spoke as if reading my mind, “When the Dreaming was young and our lord was imprisoned in his own dungeons while the Old Gods took control, he was desperate enough to ask his siblings for help.” That comment alone was enough to convey the seriousness of the situation. She raised a hand and caressed the gate, fingers finding the nooks and engravings there, “Most denied his call for aid, not wanting to interfere, except his sibling Desire. For while things had been strained and have remained strained between them, they are family after all.” “None of them but Desire came?” I asked with a frown, “Not even Death?” She smiled at the disbelieving tone in my voice, registering it. “It was a long time ago, darling girl, and even Death was a different being then,” the woman explained gently before continuing with the story, “Desire could not give him armies as their brother Destruction could and would not come directly to aide him, but instead sent a lover and told him to treat her kindly. Thus, Alianora came to be.” She pulled her hand from the door, stepping back to get a look at the full picture and I could feel a knot in my throat, “Though he had denied a lover at first, Desire can get their hooks into your heart easily. So he accepted her. In return for her help, he promised his heart and they battled the Old Gods together, returning his realm to their proper ruler, but not unscathed. Alianora was harmed and the scar on her cheek became an omen.” My teeth were gnawing my lip to pieces and I could taste the hint of blood in my mouth. I didn’t have to be a genius to know where the story ended. I was here and had no mention of this woman that had fought at Morpheus’ side. Not even a mention, but at this point it wasn’t surprising. He kept things locked tight still, “What happened to her?” The black haired woman turned to me and in a move that felt so natural, hooked her elbow through mine and led me away from the gates to walk along the shore. I didn’t fight her, letting her carry me away from the gates with full trust, “You know what happened. The true question you wish to ask is why you have not heard of this woman before. So I ask you this, do you wish for the pretty truth or the real one?” I don’t know why I trusted her, this stranger who wove the story of the gates for me and seemed to care. Maybe because she was of the Dreaming so she couldn’t have wished me harm but didn’t seem to feel the need to protect Morpheus’ image. Maybe because she felt like my own mother had when she was alive, gentle and caring and letting me choose what I could handle. “The real one,” I whispered, meeting her black eyes. She smiled and brushed a strand of hair from my eyes, “Yes, I can see why he likes you. There is a fire in you that burns brightly and men like Lord Morpheus are moths, drawn to that fire. Very well then.” We reached the edges of the shore and the light of the sky glistened off the water, no visible sun in the sky. We stopped and watched the water, her arm around mine, “Our lord did not keep his promise. He did love her at first, as one always loves one of Desire’s creatures, but as time went on that love faded and turned cold and cruel. The absence of Desire is harsh as their presence. For she was alone, surrounded by him in all aspects in the Dreaming but unloved by him… and he did not care for her suffering. Her time in the Dreaming changed her so she could not return home and going to the Waking world would destroy her. She had come to set him free and was caged in return.” “Where is she now?” I whispered, arm gripping her own tightly in solace and she gripped mine in return. A rock amongst a raging river, comforting and grounding. The brightly glistening water and bright sky were so cheerful, a juxtaposition to our conversation and I couldn’t help but feel a little numb, thoughts a tangled mess. “He built her a skerry that would be hers to control and shape to her will. For as long as she wished for it to remain so too shall she remain there until the time comes that she wishes for the compact to end. I doubt he’s seen her in thousands of years now, content to let things lie, but the gates…are a constant reminder. Of his failures in both aspects,” she finished as her skirt billowed around us, mixing with my own. White and black. The story left a bitter taste in my mouth and I swallowed the tears that threatened to spill, knowing that I had asked for this. Curiosity killed the cat… The black haired woman turned to me, hand on my cheek, “Poor thing, I had not wished for our first meeting to cause you distress. Loving Lord Morpheus is not for the faint of heart and I know that fire in you. Passionate to a fault. It can burn bright but also devastate in its fury. You are not a gentle thing and neither is he. I suppose it’s up to him which way that fire turns in the end.” “I don’t- uh,” I stammered, “Me and him- we’re not.” She raised a brow, disbelief clearly on her face as I tried to dispute her. But there was a smile and some humor and she only smoothed some of my hair away, “Nonetheless, you are the first Dream Walker to ever be allowed to come into her power which makes you a rare thing. I am not surprised you caught his eye, but the road will be hard. Lord Morpheus, while not nearly as terrible as he used to be, is not an easy one.” “That doesn’t scare me,” I whispered shakily, swallowing through the tightness in my chest. “Oh I have no doubt about that,” she laughed, “You are a brave one. Do not be afraid, but be understanding of what you’re involved in. Firm, but forgiving. He is used to getting his way and does not like to be told no, but sometimes does not understand what’s best. You’ll have to be patient. He is changing, but is also fighting that change. You’ll need to take care of him and yourself, brave girl.” I gulped and nodded as her words spun in circles through my head. It was reassuring and daunting as the long road of the future stretched before me. I could only keep verbally denying to everyone else that this relationship wasn’t something much bigger. But I knew in my heart, “Thank you-” The sound of wings flapping broke the sound of the steady slosh of the water lapping along the shore and we both turned to look up as Matthew flew to us. A large boulder broke the flat surface not far from us and he landed, shaking his feathers out to cast the salt water from his body, “Eve! I didn’t know you’d left your cave.” The woman, Eve apparently, smiled at him, “Hello, Matthew, I do leave on occasion. I’m not always confined to the cave, wandering through nightmares. Sometimes I like the peace of the shores.” Matthew hmphed in a very bird-like way, cawing, and turning my way, “I was wondering if you’d met Eve yet, Dahl! I stay with her when I’m not with the Boss- well, all the ravens do. She takes care of us.” The name Eve finally clicked into place, recognizable in the fabric of my being, and I furrowed my brow quizzically, “Eve, like in the bib-” “As in Eve the dream and Eve the nightmare,” she interrupted, her smile knowing but resolute, “We are all stories here, darling girl, and I am but one. I am glad to have met you at least and even more glad to see you in the future.” I pressed my lips together and nodded, feeling her hand drop to my own and squeeze before she turned to the large bird, “Now Matthew, shall we return to the cave as you seem so desperate for me to be there?” Matthew mumbled an excuse, hopping up onto her shoulder, “I- I didn’t say that! I was just surprised!” but he looked back at me as if unsure if he should leave with her. I waved a hand, nodding him away, “I’ll see you later, Matthew. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” Eve gave me a smile, both knowing and sad, “Take care of yourself, Lady.” And as I watched them both walk away, a pit in my stomach as her words echoed over and over again, I glanced at the gates we had walked away from and the woman carved into them. Alianora.

#dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x fem!reader #morpheus x fem!reader #dream x fem!reader #dream of the endless #the sandman fanfic #sandman fanfic #the sandman fic #sandman fic #Series: Fragments #Fic: Interwoven

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