#save me tragic love poems

[cowskulls]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[feelingdeath]

-I sometimes feel that love is a pity and not a necessity

-Do I love him for he loved me first or is it more deeper than that

-Do I crave him just for filling the void inside save him from me, please

-It scares me some times that I won't be able to love him enough

-What if I am not in love and this is a mere delusion of sorts

-And all these love songs make me blank simply because I don't deserve it

-If I have to, some one please teach me how to let go of love slowly

-What about the plans we made where do those lead us now that I crumble

-I still need him but I wish I fell for him first my pain knows no end

Ahhhhh I wrote 9 haikus just because I felt too much. M sorry love, m just on a low, please don't hate how she feels.

[superkooku]

Favorite character from Greek mythology + favorite myth from Greek mythology?

Favorite characters

I'll turn this into a tag game : @margaretkart @dootznbootz @sarafangirlart @aliciavance4228 @katerinaaqu @hermesmoly @go-rocksquadsfan @sanska @vint-knight .

And @anon (you can give your answer in another ask 😉).

So, I have a loooooooot of faves. This list is long.

Here are mine :

Nobody. Yeah, in reality, I hate mythology and just pretend I like it. Or I just love making puns about my favorite lying war criminal. Who didn't cheat btw.

Penelope. These two are soulmates, no ifs or buts. I always found her underrated and @dootznbootz 's ramblings on her confirm that. Cunning and sassy half-naiad queen.

"The delian twins", as I like to call them. Idk I really love their multifaceted natures of protectors and deadly huntress/inflictor of illnesses (with an affinity towards plague). And their familial bond is precious. And I like them both equally, even though I talk about Apollo a bit more ig.

Leto. She's precious. They're always ready to defend each other. Like when Apollo and Artemis killed Niobe's kids because she was disrespectful to Leto. Or when Leto came in to save her son from being thrown in Tartarus by Zeus. Or when baby Artemis helped her mother deliver her brother. She fought for her children and now they fight for her.

Hestia. Too bad there isn't more about her because I relate a lot to the concept of chilling at home and staying away from drama.

Ariadne. Because of her family's tragic history, her healing from it with Dionysus (in most versions) and overall, she's great. Also, it's funny how Theseus wanted to marry a child of Zeus but his ex girlfriend actually succeeded 😂. Speaking of her family tragedy...

Asterius. I bet most adaptation authors don't know who I am referring to 🤣. He's a man-eating monster, yes, but he grew up isolated, trapped and unloved. I feel so bad for him.

Perseus. The GOAT. Partly thanks to @sarafangirlart. I already liked him since I always knew he wanted to save his mother, but he genuinely grew on me since I read her posts. That and when I learned of his war against Dionysus. Extremely underrated story.

Athena. Idk I don't think I need to elaborate on why she's cool.

Hades. In retellings, I often hate him because he's either woobified or made into "Greek Satan" (at least in Disney he's fun), but he's genuinely cool in mythology. Morally gray Hades save me.

Hermes. From birth, he was always a little trickster. I love how many functions he has (messenger of the gods, god of merchants, thieves, communication, also a psychopomp btw). A very energetic and helpful god.

Asclepius. I think I should make a post explaining why he's great because, yeah, I don't talk much about him even though there are things to say (yeah it's because I did a lot of research on him).

And... finally... Dionysus 🤣. Of course he made it in this list. I dedicated a whole essay series about this god, come on !

Honorable mentions : Hector, Andromache, Menelaus, Demeter, Telemachus, Hephaestus, Hippolytus, Danae, Ares and many others.

Favorite myths/plays/poems

I already answered that but can't find the post. So I'll do it again, with some new answers in mind. Basically "the myths with the characters on the list".

It's either because they're that compelling or just hilarious.

The homeric cycle. Ok, an easy one.

The Bacchae by Euripides (mandatory reading if you want to understand Dionysus imo. No excuses).

The frogs by Aristophanes. Because it's funny.

Asclepius' story. Seriously I'll elaborate on it one day.

Hermes' birth story. Him stealing Apollo's cows and Apollo getting mad at his scallywag of a brother 🤣🤣. And then just him winning Apollo over with the lyre.

Pirithous and Theseus getting their asses stuck on a chair (yes this is my title for this story). I love to mock these two, especially Pirithous because... give this man a Darwin award please. No thoughts and no survival instincts in his brain 😂.

Orpheus and Eurydice. Simple but powerful.

The Argonautica. Aka a huge crossover. Seeing more interactions between all these heroes would be awesome (especially if we take every version into account 👀. So many faces...). It's funny how I love the Argonautica but never talk about Jason himself 🤣🤣. The embodiment of the protagonist who's less interesting than the other characters.

Perseus' war against Dionysus. A potential retelling about this myth would go so hard !! Especially since we could get a scary Dionysus. Hopefully it doesn't get ruined :(

Edit : some English mistakes I had to correct.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

You got me simping for Vaegon…

First of all thank you so much for reading it and omg yes Vaegon is just so cute and his decision to become Archmaster has saved him such an icon in his family…even though you didn't ask for it anon I thought this might do another simp some good enjoy reading ;)

Prince/Achmaster Vaegon Targaryen in a relationship SFW/NSFW

°You met him when he still held the title of prince of the realm. One of many princes and princesses but a young man who had already suffered losses of his own blood. The deaths of his siblings and yet this did not seem to bother him, he attended the funerals and mourning ceremonies and kept to the prescribed time of mourning and yet. She had never seen a single tear in his violet eyes or a look of distress. On the contrary, the more deaths that happened, the more everyone mourned, the more often his gaze seemed to settle on her. Since those times of mourning, they seemed to be more and more united. He gave her his cloth handkerchief and even sent her a cup of tea to lift her spirits, ,,With best wishes from Prince Vaegon," her servant had told her.

°The paths of the two often crossed in the castle, a courtesy always towards her, and she thought she saw something like true joy in him when she was with him in the library, they met there almost every day, she kept him company more and more. She turned away from her friend and princess Alyssa to spend her free time with Vaegon. ,,You can go to the hunt, the others will be waiting," he had once said when she had preferred to read and study with him in the castle garden instead of attending the royal hunt. It was the first time she put her hand on his and saw the smile on his fine lips and it was the first time he came closer and gave her a kiss.

°It was the first time he neglected his duty and gave in to his feelings as his sisters did. ,,By the Great Citadel, I've wanted to taste you for so long," he confessed as his delicate hands held her, not roughly but gently, yet she sensed a power slumbering in him, his violet eyes always watching her. That this beginning was a time of love, trust and secrets. When she was with him, he laughed a hearty laugh, an honest laugh, something that made her heart beat faster. When he was with her, he allowed himself physical contact with her, cuddled with her in his chambers and read her the most beautiful poems he had composed.

°He was the only one who allowed her to ride out with him, telling her everything he knew about the animals and plants with a curious gleam in his eyes as she rode beside him, a sweet smile curling her lips. ,,Your knowledge is your beauty, Vaegon," she had said and giggled as she saw his pale blue cheeks turn pink and he looked away. But when she tried to give him a kiss, he returned the favor and kissed her faster. A day that ended in even deeper love in the forest. A day that had started with blood when he was cut with a sword by his older brother during training and angrily left the yard only to be slowly helped by her when he understood that she cared, that she had always seen him, that he was not overlooked as he had been by his parents. ,,I always take your concerns seriously, my prince," she confessed and finally pulled the fresh bandage around the wound and was about to turn away when he took her hand and squeezed it gratefully, ,,And for that I am bound to you my dear love".

°But as love blossomed, it also became clear that with the royal couple becoming parents and the death of his siblings, it was more tragic than ever that he was eligible for the Thorn. A fact that involved power and danger, ,,I don't want a throne if it increases the likelihood of losing you, my love," he had made clear one night as they sat together in front of the fireplace, the books set aside and his hand resting on hers. Her uncertainty about this, however, was extinguished when she saw the stubborn glow in the violet when he had to fight his enemies in the castle courtyard. When they humiliated him and he withdrew, he knew no, she knew just as he knew that he would never want to be king…but they both knew that a prince cannot shirk his responsibilities. Even if she came from a noble house, she was no Tyrell, Hightower or Lannister, it would not be enough for a marriage.

°But his decision and his father's permission brought new sides of love and soon she found Vaegon in front of the Citadel again knowing that it was actually a farewell, that he would lose his status, that he could pursue his destiny forever, ,,I will find a way…I will find a way to love you forever…even if it means breaking duties". A promise which he sealed with a kiss and deeds because as prince he arranged for him to have his personal servant and septa, a woman who would take care of his everyday affairs without notice. A matter that was settled when she put on the white robe and pinned the dragon's brooch to it almost with pride. ,,So everyone will see that you belong to me and are mine," she heard his whispered words as she was with him in his private room and thought she saw the madness, the madness of dragons, in his violet eyes for a moment in the semi-darkness …. but it was surely her imagination as he engaged her in another kiss.

NSFW

°The days at the citadel were long and exhausting, the knowledge had to be transferred and learned, chains had to be forged and the camp had to be managed. Rules, duty and order and a single woman among hundreds of men. But there was pride in her gaze, she did not duck away, she seemed to become like him, dutiful and yet with a hint of haughtiness that she knew, no actually everyone knew, what she was doing behind closed doors, what sounds came from the prince's room as his fingers slipped under the white dress. Peeling the fabric from her body, he almost greedily took what was rightfully his, his own dragoness nien better than what his shiwsters had ever had. ,,You are the precious treasure of House Targaryen, not the throne or the crown," he murmured to her as he kissed his way along her skin until he could finally touch her again.

°He marked her, trailing his kisses along her skin that was otherwise protected by the fabric, biting spurs over which he ran his fingers throughout the day. ,,Your beauty is indescribable gods," he sighed as his fingers massaged her breasts, gripping the flesh of her thighs, praising her, longing for her praise as she clung to him as he penetrated her, moaning her name, keeping the sounds of lust through the corridors at night in the darkness of the sacred place.

°He turned to painting with various fabrics and colors in the course of his studies, ,,You as my muse are the only thing beautiful in these halls," he had said as she sat down on the armchair, his demands animated with lust, his violet eyes seeming to turn a dark purple as she gradually released the fabric from her crown and spread her legs. He saw her swallowing, humming something to himself, and he had to restrain himself from throwing the painting away and taking her. He came up to her hungry for her sweetness for more of her when he knelt down in front of her his way up her leg trailing kisses on it to finally let his tongue wrap over her center. Studying his body from her beautiful example and learning to receive her praise.

°But even during the day in the citadel, she felt the other's gaze on her, felt his touch on her body like a gentle breeze. But she also helped him when she "helped" with all the things, pulling her hand onto his, pulling him into chambers. This time it was his lascivious noises that echoed through the corridors. Vaegon tried to suppress them, a shaking hand on his mouth or hiding his head in the books, but his redness was clearly visible to her when she looked up at him. His fingers tangled almost gently and needily in her hair, praising her. The hours of their love always took place in the free time and then until late at night but most of all their time together was safe from the throne and the battles outside the citadel where their love and lust could blossom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

masterlist

[im-goofball]

rubs hands together. do the gorosei have families in your lore? if so I'd like to see their parents [or hear about them], what did they look like in their youth? Do they have devil fruits or are they yokai? PLEASE 🙏

OMG IT'S CHRISTMAS!!

The Gorosei during the Void century, art by my co-lore creator @genri-o

Warcury-Born in the Year of Sun 595 AF

(48 y.o. in 643 AF when it all begun)

-Born as a middle-class noble, but family died in a tragic shipwreck when he was just a baby

-Was took into the Saint Vlad's Orphanage when he was just one year old by an unknown person

-After leaving the Orphanage at 16, he started studying law in the prestige Royal Law Academy that he has been saving for his whole life

-At twenty he graduated with honours and became a judge, aspiring himself to climb the hierarchy to get the highest position in Slaviugia Kingdom

-He became the Supreme Judge of Slaviugia at 35, recorded in the Year of Sun 630 AF, the second youngest person to get this job in history

-Was elected as the Chief of Royal Court in the Year of Sun 633 AF and became one of Tsar's advisor's year after

Ethan-Born in the Year of Sun 596 AF

(47 y.o. in 643 AF when it all begun)

-Born as an orphan in the land of Wano

-At 5, he was found starving in the streets by shogun Kozuki Saisho and his men, who then took him in as his son.

-For the next twelve years he was trained by the greatest blade master in that time, Lunarian named Andaiell Daerlion, with his younger brother Sutara (who he greatly envied due to the fact that he was Saisho's biological son, and therefore was shown more love then Ethan recieved)

-At age 18, he became one of the Moon Guards, elite group of twenty samurai directly operating under Shogun and protecting his and his family's life.

-Ethan had medicore education, despite being adopted into the royal family he never recieved any royal title nor any proper education as he should have (Wano still had strict rules when it came in their 4 Classes: 1. Royal family, 2. The Church of Moon, 3. Nobles, 4. Commoners) and so he is terrible at math and had to hone his reading skills by reading many books and poems. He was naturaly skilled in caligraphy though

-He adopted the name Ethanbaron after the creation of the WG, and he still mostly responds if people call him Nusjuro since he lived with that name most of his life

Saturn-Born in the Year of Sun 598 AF

(45 y.o. in 643 AF when it all begun)

-Born as the only child of royal Jay Garcia bloodline, son of king Methone and queen Anthea of the Greecion Kingdom

-Lost his mother at the early age of four as she died of miscarriage and then his father at the age of twelve after he died of an unknown illness

-Became the king month after, recorded in the Royal Cronicles: Year of Sun 610 AF

-He was spoiled a lot when he was a child, especially by his father who taught him a lot about politics. Most nobles and members of Grecion Royal Court tried to manipulate him and treated him like a snobby child, which of course he was, but he was much more dangerous and smarter then they thought and quickly got rid of oposition whilst he grew in power

-When he grew older, the passion he and his mother had for science grew larger and at the age of fourteen he atended the Academy of Sciences and graduated at the age of seventeen with honourifics

-In the Year of Sun 620 he was wedded to princess Tethys Saerlios, who was still eighteen at the time

-He was opposed to this at first, he had never met her after all, and had no idea what she was like

-The first time they met was in a lab Saturn thought belonged to one of the Royal physicians, but was surprised to find a young woman fixing a star-ship's motor. Not realizing it was Tethys , since she was dressed in an engineer's clothes stained with oil and lab glasses he came closer

-The first thing Tethys said to him and she was still with her back turned to him was: "Could you hand me that screwdriver over there?"

-Saturn was dead set on marrying that woman

-At the dinner table Saturn realized that the princess he was supposed to marry and that messy engineer from the lab before were the same person

-They married after a year, recorded in tue Royal Cronicles: Year of Sun 621 AF

-After 6 years, they had their first child and heir to the Greecion Kingdom, Jay Garcia Dione and 3 years later they had daughter, princess Jay Garcia Rhea

-Saturn and Tethys became one of the most influencial people of their time with their inventionsa and scientifical/engineering knowledge aslo the fourth wealthiest in the All Blue

Mars-Born in the Year of Sun 589

(54 y.o. in 643 AF when it all begun)

-Born as the third son of the royal Mars bloodline of Aurelion Kingdom, son of King Deimos III. and queen Aurelia

-His older brothers, Feobos and Sandos died in hunting "accident" in 598 AF and his mother, Aurelia commited suicide three months after

-Mars became king at the age of eighteen after his father, who grew mad with grief died in Trail of Sun by Mars' hand as he was unfit to rule and almost brough Aurelion to ruin, recorded in Sun's Cronicles of Aurelion; the Year of Sun 607 AF

-At the age of 35 he went to war with the ruler of Themisto Isles, the King of Storms, Shepherd Ju Krono, after the man invaded one of Mars' allied kingdoms for the goal of conquest

-The war was known as The Falcon War and took three years till Mars defeated Krono on battlefield, killing him with his own sword the Stormfeather. The end of the war was recorded to be established in 627 AF

-Since Krono died, Mars was debating on the peace treaty with Krono's only son and the Crown Prince, Shepherd Ju Peter who became the new king of Themisto islands at the young age of 13

-He took the boy as his son two years after, since it was discovered Mars was unable to have children so his bloodline would die there. (And he seemed rather fond of the sassy child)

Peter-Born on the Year of Sun 614 AF

(29 y.o. in 643 AF when it all begun)

-Born as a child out of wedlock of king Shepherd Ju Krono and unknown woman, theorised to have been a commoner

-Since Krono had no other child and never married due to his how shall I say... flirty personality, he had no other choice but to legitimize Peter and name him his heir and Crown Prince

-Whilst growing up, Peter was mostly looked down upon due to his "stained blood-status" and never had any great relationship with his father, but he still loved him nonetheless

-He became king after his father Krono died at the age of 47 by the hand of an enemy, king Marcus Mars

-He became fondof the man after meeting him, as he was the only person who took him seriously despite his young age an little of experience as a ruler

-They became rather close for the next two years and Peter was not really surprised when Mars offered an allience and then proposed the Rite of Two (a ritual with sake cups, bur much mire complicated then the one origanting from Wano)

-Despite The Falcon War and the tragic death of his biological father, Peter never felt any hate or negative emotion towards Mars, as he understood that it was Krono who was the agressor

-Peter even offered to adopt Mars' name, but the king refused.

They are not eaxctly devil fruit users, because they never eaten the fruits containing their yokai powers, rather they were given to it by Mu (details for later asks).

I will show you Jay Garcia family, also @genri-o 's artworks, later on in the ask (if you ask for them of course)

[bhaal-battle-beer-bard]

ℜ𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔏𝔬𝔰𝔱

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 2

𝓐𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔫

Astarion x Dark Urge Aristen poetry · commission for @aristenfromwarsaw

“Redemption Lost” song listening while reading – Aristen's song · Part 1 Astarion

✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️

My love that goes by the name of Astarion Will our love survive the night? The day, the light? Or was it just an illusion born from the darkness? Will you see me for what I am in the morning light and run? Created in an abyss of dark urgings I was not made good enough, to be loved What is a tree, with roots of evil? Bears only crimson buds of suffering Rise to the sky My soul cry out at night A flower, rotting and decaying without light Screaming for blood Touched by your gentle hands, bonding us with a red tie My darkness ignites by your stars’ light I try to be good, but the dark drags me down Blood and emptiness devour my hands Teeth ripping out my flesh The light nowhere to be seen Doomed to rot Or the mercy of fate? Deserved in all eternity Cut me out, run away Monsters of mine should eat me form inside, but never ever touch you Creatures, the monster with my face looking at me every day Clawing, screaming, drowning my head I should be banned and dead and not held in your lover’s arms Twisted mirror Deadly reflection I see a face myself unlovable, not worth your acceptance But your pale hand reaching out for me You never judge, forgive what I did How could I deserve someone not looking at me in disgust, but with compassion? You have seen my darkest nightmares and loved me anyway You feel it too, you see it too Smile without joy Death within life A crack in the empty mirror Burning in blood, drowning on air Hurting you is hurting me So my tears do pray and my heart will ask Screaming at the night’s sky I want to crawl inside your chest and die I want to be the secret inside your heart, maybe than my demons cannot find us Our story will be a love song and not a blood-stained ballad Astarion, the name of my love forevermore You’ve seen troubles and blue like me Your heart beating, making mine racing fast You survived torture, bigger, stronger men and kings would fall to Still able to love, still able to hope For me your heart and soul are dauntless With you the night is an endless dream If I go, If I die I would die with your name on my lips Your past carved into your soul like mine Compare our scars Erase them forever Overwrite them with the poem of our love psalm Sins and heart open – devotion fears nothing to hide Your hand on my cheek, keeps my head up high Above the bloody water You saved me from my darkness Let us make it out alive Escape the circles of damnation Can we be more, we were made to be? More than what we were condemned to be

✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️

a/n: second part of my commission for @aristenfromwarsaw

Astarion x Dark Urge Aristen poetry

She wanted a poem about how Astarion feels not good enough to be with her Durge Aristen, not worthy of her love. While Aristen sees Astarion as her true savior, despite she is desperate about her crimes as bhaal spawn and struggling with her past, that should forbid her being happy with a wonderful elf like Astarion, the only one that seem to understand her truly. All the more the irony of their thoughts and doubts. All your wonderful stories about your Aristen and Astarion, inspired me. And you know me, I love a dramatic, angsty, tragic love story the most. I hope I made it not to dramatic – but believe me, the first draft was even way more drama. For two weeks now I've been working on it and I have to say I'm very happy with it and I really like it. I hope you enjoy it, that it inspires you too and that it meets your expectations and gets the message across well. (If the song to this did not get stuck in your head, I'll be offended 😉😆😂) Maybe someone else will take a liking to it too as well. I would be delighted. I wish I could be so focused on working on things for my OCs. I've been writing a short fanfic about Astarion and Saulus since September and well...a stagnating WIP it is since then. This time it really should be like a conversation between Astarion and the Bhaalspawn. Or more like writing letters to each other. I got inspired to this writing style, of a music album from a band, where the first song on the CD was sung by a woman and told of a love story. The last song on the album was sung by a man and was the exact answer to her song. (Or the other way around) I thought that was great at the time. Unfortunately, I can't remember what kind of band it was. Not at all. I can't seem to remember anything these days. Maybe someone knows better than me which album I mean and can enlighten me. (I've noticed that I write differently when I'm composing on a laptop or starting in my bard/poetry book (obviously). Do you prefer the shorter stuff, poems/ballads with fewer/shorter lines? What do you say?)

[eyra]

winning arguments without crying

Three years ago I liked you and now I think you’re hideous That’s really all it is. Crumbling stone above your sink in a houseshare bathroom that feels like an aeroplane toilet. A corona of snakes that couldn’t be saved by a beautiful tragedy. You have to train them, you see To bite beautifully and in a tragic sort of way A literary way You can’t just wash your red hair and let it dry like that. I would know. Mine are revered and I think people are afraid of them but in a beautiful sort of way.

That’s another story that I’m trying to write and I wish I could block you from the pages like I’ll block you on Instagram.

I think you’re hideous A gradual  and then very sudden descent into a cramping hatred like the way you think hot weather is just fantastic and I think the sun is fucking obnoxious Like you A loudly epic microcosm  A study in how to learn to hate a stranger measured by unprecedented times and a handful of afternoons eating  blue cheese and crackers on London grass waiting for the time to pass If nobody likes you and everybody likes me then does that make me awful too? or does it just mean I’m right

You glittered like a mirror for a morning our sisterly reflections in mourning A summer snapshot from the lens I’m still in charge of Now you’re a black hole or something worse probably an empty shell pretending to be a whole person. Boring boring boring Everything about you is boring I’m bored with how boring I find you This poem is boring. It’s boring to talk about you but I can’t stop none of us can stop we’re all awful. You were a mirror and isn’t that funny considering how much you fucking love looking at yourself now Is this fucking play about us? as long as it’s all focused on you Tell us to knock the f-stop back as far as we can until it’s just The You Show again but you’ll say you hate the lens I’m standing behind. Apparently it’s all so condescending of me but I think you just don’t understand what that word means and what you actually mean is I’m older than you and know how to win arguments? What you actually mean is I can fight without shaking and my face doesn’t turn red when I’m angry? and I’ve always thought that a very lucky trait to have I think I probably got that from my dad although he doesn’t really get angry. I think you should write a poem about what you got from your dad But you’ll never do that even if  it’s the easy pick to the door you say someone else bolted you behind screaming. I unpicked mine when I was twenty and I’ll always shoot if someone slags off my closet And you think you’re the gunmaster here

But that’s a totally separate conversation and I can’t be bothered having it with you so can we just move on because you’re too narrow to get that.

The most caring person in the world until empathy starts unearthing your enemies As if you don’t already have a thousand. And none of it feels important anymore so I’m embarrassed that I even care but it’s not a caring sort of caring. If you’re compelled by right and wrong I’m compelled by love and hate I think that’s my coin and one day soon I’ll stop spending it on you But for now I’m solvent Even if I’m letting you steal from me and your steel city state is richer than my ancient woodland but your vaults are beneath iron girders of fantastic and thanks so much and so it becomes a girlish and quietly-biting sort of coin that burns lips and makes everything taste like copper mine is just a mist and then you accuse me of being non-confrontational when actually I’ve always quite liked confrontation.

It’s something I’m good at

and yet you keep trying and honestly I find that mortifying But you’re a child so I don’t even care. Maybe I should swaddle you but you said you're wise beyond your years so I guess let’s go with that? And if everyone hates you and nobody hates me then maybe you should go back to your mirror and look there instead of at your front-facing camera because that’s mortifying too  and you should’ve gone to university because you would’ve met other mirrors there And at least I know I’m a bitch

I met my mirrors ages ago.

But you run from reflection and choose your front-facing camera instead because it does that thing where it flips the image and you get to pretend that you’re the opposite thing to the thing you actually are and you get to tell yourself that you’re so tiny and the world is the Big Bad pecking at your nest. But you’re the awful thing And everything is backwards And everything is mirrored to you And if I saw myself in you then send me the invoice and finish your email with  thanks so much  for teaching me how to be something else because honestly if I became what you already are I think I’d just die  I can see you rolling your eyes on the playground because someone else was enjoying the swings but in a stupid way and the tarmac was hotter in Germany but that doesn’t make you more interesting. God I wish I could tell you that.

I told you once that sometimes I pretend I’m on Graham Norton when I’m in the car I thought everyone did that but apparently they don’t But that’s fine I think and you didn’t need to laugh about it with your fiancée But she's left you too and I found that funny So let’s call it even.

I dive headfirst into the oil when it comes to you because it feels so hotly delicious  To nestle in the anonymous ranks of whatever armies you think you did nothing to provoke You’ve got spears for crutches but your armour is accountancy note paper With lecture notes too boring to comprehend I don’t think you’re actually interested in investment risk and taxation or fraud analytics Is anyone? It’s just something else to put on your brown sash and on your HER profile. Tell them about how you’re on every battlefield and I’m just softly at home writing a stupid poem about you And if you’re reading this now because you keep tabs on everyone and everything and if you were waiting for me Don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t about you. Because I already don’t remember how old you are but I think you get a notification when I post an Instagram story of myself as a child.

I have a pitchy black well of everything that you don’t have and I throw myself into it and you screw your face up lime-sour when actually I think you’d love to build one for yourself  but you can’t stop looking at your Instagram followers for long enough to work out  How to cast bricks or divine water or whatever else you need to build a well

You don’t even have the land for it yet.

I’d rather write a stupid poem than be your blank piece of paper I’d rather write myself as a villain than play your antagonist  Write me out of your boring story I’m begging you. It’s been a year and you’re still looking up how to spell my name  Between notes about investment management and derivatives And I don’t even know what that means Thank God. God it’s so boring But I’m laughing at the idea of one day forgetting your name.

I can be rotten but I think the thing that saves you from Hell is the welcoming of the rot and if I can be this but also sleep with my friends and love my American cereal and the little squares of sun my mirrorballs cast to my blue walls Then what does it matter I don’t think it matters. But you can’t be told about any of that Because you’re too busy romancing your front-facing camera and  one-hundred-and-thirty-three people in fluorescent ceiling panels who won’t ever clap at a volume that fills you So I’ll leave you waiting for your lean applause And I’ll just be lighter.

I watched a video today of my niece on a ride-on lawnmower Grinning with my dad in the field behind our house and that was me twenty-two years ago. God I love that I can love.

[baiwu-jinji]

I'm so very late to the party but finally finished listening to TGCF audio drama season 1, love how intense the last two episodes are :3 Here are some incoherent thoughts about some of the episodes I haven't talked about:

Episode 12: It occurred to me when I'm listening to this episode that the ghosts of Ghost City are always so lively and bubbly, always laughing and flirting and teasing, when most of them must've had a tragic life story with unresolved misfortunes that caused them to turn into ghosts in the first place. Their high spirits feels incongruous with their tragic past, but maybe it's because they're happier as ghosts than as humans?

There's a ghost called 红粉骷髅 (literally "skeleton of beautiful woman") in this episode that finds afterlife much more liberating and satisfying than life itself, as she recites the following poem when she's dancing: "I danced for others in life, nobody buried my bones when I died; I sing for myself after death, my beauty moves the netherworld."

(The name 红粉骷髅 actually comes from a Buddhist story where the Bodhisattva Guanyin turns into a beautiful woman to make love to men but would suddenly turn into a skeleton in the process, scaring the men into realising that the most alluring beauty in the world is but ashes and bones and ghastly in death, and that they shouldn't give in to temptations.)

Episode 13: Hua Cheng tells Xie Lian that he doesn't look at the wishes of his believers and just throws them away because he doesn't care about being worshipped. This just shows the difference between Hua Cheng and Jun Wu: although they both desire power, Hua Cheng only wants power in himself and over his own fate, while Jun Wu wants power over others. The conversation between HC and XL is as follows:

HC: It's better to help yourself than ask the help of others. If you want to climb out of the abyss, what use is it to look to others? Others won't come to save you every time.

XL: That's why you need gods.

HC: But if everyone counts on the god, what about the god? Wouldn't the god get tired?

XL: But you must have many believers. If you turn a blind eye to their prayers, won't they consider you to be ineffectual?

HC: I didn't ask them to worship me, they kneeled before me without my permission. Besides, only those who happen to have their wishes granted would dare to talk about it - those who don't wouldn't dare to complain.

Episode 17: Xie Lian tells Lang Qianqiu that he named his sword technique which he uses to break up a clash by diverting all the harm to himself "wuming" (meaning "nameless") - a fitting name because the technique is about the negation of the self, and sacrificing oneself to endure it all. "Wuming" is also the name Hua Cheng took when he followed Xie Lian after the fall of Xianle and eventually sacrificed himself to protect Xie Lian.

Episode 18: When Xie Lian worries that telling Lang Qianqiu the truth would make Lang Qianqiu question everything XL taught him and cease to be the courageous and honourable person that he is, Hua Cheng asks XL to trust in LQQ's innate moral strength. I like what HC said to XL about LQQ:

"If you value him so much, then why can't you trust him? Trust that since he's the one you chose, he won't lose himself in hatred and will eventually do what he should do, even though he once wanted to destroy the whole world out of hate."

HC is asking XL to have faith in LQQ the same way that HC has always had faith in XL.

There's also something I wonder about the situation between Xie Lian and Lang Qianqiu. LQQ's parents were murdered by the resentful ghosts of the people of Xianle, and XL took the blame for the Gilded Banquet massacre because he didn't want LQQ to think that he tried to save those resentful ghosts in vain, that LQQ's good will towards the resentful ghosts was met with hatred and revenge. But has it occurred to XL that his own supposed "betrayal" would've hurt LQQ equally much? Would LQQ really feel better if instead of the resentful ghosts, it's his teacher whom he admired and respected so much that had betrayed him?

[jarmes]

There’s a link that keeps going around for a website

You can click a button once a day

And give a fraction of a penny to the victims of a genocide

I do my daily clicks

I go to work

On my lunch break, I read articles

1,000 dead

2,000

10,000

30,000 now

Tomorrow more

I do my daily clicks

I see a photo of a murdered child

They starved him to death

He doesn’t even look like a human being anymore

Like an alien, the way his eyes bulge

The way his skin clings to his bones like saran wrap

I see him when I close my eyes

I do my daily clicks

I read the news again

They gunned down a crowd begging for food

The next day, the news has moved on

The day after, another massacre

No one cares this time

I do my daily clicks

A soldier burns himself to death

He screams for freedom as his skin turns to ash

He gives everything he can

I do my daily clicks

They call it self-defense

But I see their politicians call for extermination

I see ours call for the same

I see soldiers stealing the underwear of the women they murder

As their commanders talk about feminism

I see the burned remnants of ambulances

Soldiers dressed as doctors murdering surgeons

Churches turned to rubble

Burning white phosphorous

I do my daily clicks

I talk about the genocide online

A dozen people I’ve never spoken to flock to the post

They try to explain why the murder of children is righteous

I block them, but they come back again and again

I get an anonymous message calling me a Nazi

I do my daily clicks

I donate $50

I do it more to feel like I’ve done something

I know it isn’t enough, know it won’t matter

But at least I’m able to sleep now

I do my daily clicks

I confront a politician

I ask him about the slaughter

I want him to be hateful

I want him to talk about the glory of the white race with a smile on his face

He doesn’t

He’s articulate and solemn

He calls the loss of life tragic

Then says we must accept it

Says it is for the good of those slain

Says that this is what happens in war

I know he would not say the same if Americans were dying

I do my daily clicks

Before he died

The soldier asked a question

What would you do during the holocaust?

During slavery?

I know the truth

He gave everything he could

I gave $50

I do my daily clicks

They cut funding for aid

They increase funding for bombs

I go to work

I pay my taxes

I contribute to the slaughter, in some small way

I do my daily clicks

I go to church

They talk about forgiveness

About mercy

About loving your enemy

The same people who cheer the deaths of children

The same people who smile at piles of corpses

Who tell me we must go on a holy war

They tell me their god was loving

That’s why they are permitted to be cruel

I say nothing

I do my daily clicks

I fantasize about violence more and more

Of killing the people responsible

Of saving lives

I know I’ll never do anything

I know that I’m a coward

I do my daily clicks

I act like I’m the victim

Write a poem about my pain

It’s laughable

To think that I am suffering

I am so very very lucky

I do my daily clicks

They say that evil triumphs

When good men do nothing

But I am not a good man

None of us are

A good man would do more than click a fucking button once a day

I’m sorry I didn’t do more

[twistedtummies2]

Top 12 Edgar Allan Poe Stories

October has come ‘round, everyone! Usually I have some kind of big Event for this month, but this year, I decided to take things a bit easy on myself and instead do a bunch of single-post lists throughout the month, which are thematically tied to the time of Halloween in some form or another. With that in mind, we’ll kick this month off with a tribute to my favorite author: that Master of the Macabre, Edgar Allan Poe. Poe was the quintessential “tortured artist.” His life story is a tragic and strange one, just as dark and filled with despair as many of the things he wrote. But for all of its pitfalls and distressing points, there was more to the man than doom and gloom: his writing reflects that, as Poe not only was and still is considered the master of the Gothic horror story, but also was a gifted romantic poet, and even wrote many pieces of humorous satire. One of his greatest contributions to literature was the invention of the modern detective story! Works like “The Phantom of the Opera” and characters like “Sherlock Holmes” simply would not exist if it hadn’t been for the prose and poetry of Edgar Allan Poe. Ever since I was young - perhaps too young to fully appreciate the intricacies of his work - I’ve always admired and adored this writer, and so I figured now was as good a time as any to show my appreciation for all this fellow gave to the world of literature. Most of the stories on this countdown will be Poe’s classic horror stories, but there will be some other pieces as well. I WON’T be including any of his poems, however; I’m saving a separate, shorter list for those. With that said, let’s waste time nevermore! These are My Top 12 Stories from Edgar Allan Poe.

12. Descent Into the Maelstrom.

Many people credit Poe for the invention of the modern detective story, which is true and good. However, there’s one thing I think people could credit Poe for creating that has yet to be officially stated as his invention: the creation of what might be called modern “Survival Horror.” These are stories where the fear comes from the protagonist being thrown into a perilous situation, and the audience - usually in the role of said protagonist - just has to go through it and survive, plain and simple. The horror comes from the helplessness of the situation, and the desperate urge to escape, combined with the perspective being done in such a way that the readers (or viewers, or players, depending on the medium) are the ones who are put through it. “Descent Into the Maelstrom” can sort of be seen as a precursor to this style. It is a story within in a story, told largely from the perspective of a fisherman, who relates to a young friend about how he survived an encounter his ship had with a monstrous whirlpool, out in the open sea. It’s revealed that the sailor’s experience was so shocking, it has turned his hair white and made him appear older than he really is. There’s not much else to the story beyond that, but that’s really all it needs: while we know the fisherman obviously survived, the tension remains as we wait to see how he did it, and learn just how close to his own end he nearly got.

11. Never Bet the Devil Your Head.

Like I said, Poe didn’t just write gruesome tales of the macabre and morbid. He also had a sense of humor, and wrote several works of satirical comedy. “Never Bet the Devil Your Head” is my favorite of his comedic works, partially because it is one of his darkest satires; it’s one of a few stories that feel almost like he’s spoofing himself, in some ways, and strangely reminds me of the work of another great author I love, Washington Irving. (Whether this was intentional or not is anybody’s guess.) The story spoofs the idea that all good short tales should teach some kind of moral lesson, as it begins with the Narrator expressing frustration at the fact his critics have judged him for apparently not including a moral in any past works. He thus relates the tale of a friend of his, Toby Dammit. (Yes, you may laugh at that name as much as you like.) Toby is a man who likes to make rhetorical bets, and is particularly fond of declaring, “I’ll bet the Devil my head!” whenever he does so. One day, the Devil himself comes calling, as he stops Toby and the Narrator at a bridge. Toby, not recognizing Old Scratch, makes the rhetorical bet he always does, claiming he can leap over a turnstile in the center of the bridge. The man makes the jump…and has his head lopped off by a hidden blade (“what might be termed a serious injury,” Poe writes), which the Devil then carries off. As a final indignity, after the bill for Toby’s funeral expenses are paid, the Narrator is forced to have his old friend dug up and turned into dog food. This story is as ludicrous as it is morbid, and while the satire is not by any means subtle, it is pretty funny. It’s the only direct comedy tale of Poe’s on this countdown, and not without good reason.

10. The Black Cat.

Many consider this one of Poe’s most noteworthy masterworks. While it doesn’t sit as high for me as some of his other stories - it feels a bit too similar to some other works of his that came both before and after it, which I feel did the concepts involved much greater justice, personally - I do still very much enjoy this story. The tale is told from the perspective of a murderer, awaiting his date with the executioner. The killer relates the details of his ghastly crime, which began when he murdered a black cat that he and his wife once owned, named Pluto. Sometime later, a second black cat came into their lives, which the killer believed was the reincarnation of the first pet, and feared. One day, when trying to kill this second feline with an axe, the narrator accidentally murders his wife in the process. To cover up this heinous deed, he attempted to brick her up behind a false wall in the cellar…but needless to say, things didn’t exactly go the way he expected, once the police showed up. Extraordinarily brutal and highly disturbing, “The Black Cat” is one of Poe’s most ambiguous and unsettling stories, and deserves all the recognition it has garnered over time.

9. Murders in the Rue Morgue.

I have said a couple of times now that Poe is credited with inventing the modern detective story. Poe referred to these tales as “studies in ratiocination;” he treated them more like essays than typical pieces of literature, where the focus was on showing the power of deductive logic in an otherwise inexplicable situation. There were three primary stories in this bunch, two of which are on this countdown. “Murders in the Rue Morgue” was the first and arguably the most well-known and beloved of the bunch, as it combines the elements of a classic piece of what we now recognize as detective fiction, with the trappings of Gothic horror and an almost satirical absurdity, which are so uniquely Poe. The story focuses on gentleman sleuth C. Auguste Dupin, who is called upon to solve a mysterious slew of hideously brutal slayings in Paris. The solution to the crime - SPOILER ALERT - turns out to be that the killings were the work of a sailor’s wayward pet orangutan, who accidentally killed the victims while attempting to shave their faces, the way it saw its owner do numerous times. I love how the solution to this crime is honestly kind of hilarious (in a very twisted way, mind you), as well as totally bonkers, yet the story goes out of its way to make such an utterly insane answer sound surprisingly plausible. You can easily see where future great writers of murder mysteries and sleuth stories, such as Arthur Conan Doyle and G.K. Chesterton, might have taken inspiration. It was a great start to a great genre, and is more than deserving of recognition for that fact.

8. The Pit and the Pendulum.

Yet another example of Poe arguably inventing the “Survival Horror” genre, and honestly, this is probably the very best said example one could have. Once again told from the point of view of the narrator (as most of Poe’s stories were), this tale recounts the experiences of a poor prisoner, being tormented by the Spanish Inquisition. He relates all the ways he was physically and mentally tormented by the Inquisitors, and his cunning attempts to escape his captors. The most notable examples of his torture are a seemingly bottomless pit in the center of his cell, and then later, being stuck under…(pauses)... “Oh. Look. There’s the pendulum of doom! What’s the pendulum of doom doing there?! I did not order the pendulum of doom! It’s overkill! Get rrrrid of it!” (Ahem…sorry, I freaking love that line. XD ) In all seriousness, I can’t recall if the “Pendulum of Doom” concept ever even existed before Poe wrote this story; to my knowledge, it wasn’t a real method of torture/execution, and I can’t remember it being brought up in fiction before this. So, if nothing else, Poe created the original supervillain death trap, and showed just how scary it could be in the process. Doesn’t that earn placement in the Top 10, if nothing else? I thought as much.

7. Hop-Frog.

“Hop-Frog” was Poe’s final story, but you probably wouldn’t guess it from reading this violent tale of vengeance. The story - for once NOT told by an unnamed narrator - focuses on a wicked king and his courtiers, who delight in mocking and abusing their servants. Most notable among their victims are the King’s jester, a hunchbacked dwarf named Hop-Frog, and a dancer by the name of Trippetta, whom Hop-Frog is in love with. The King and his cabinet are fans of practical jokes, so, one day, Hop-Frog offers them an idea for a prank: the King is to host a masquerade ball, and he and his friends are to dress as a horde of orangutans (wow, Poe really liked those, didn’t he?), to scare the other partygoers. The King and his cronies take the jester’s advice, thus falling for Hop-Frog’s trap: the harlequin gives them costumes made out of flammable materials, and, as part of the prank, chains them up and hangs them like a chandelier over the assembled partygoers…before setting them all on fire. As they are burned alive before the horrified revelers, Hop-Frog escapes with Trippetta, pronouncing his vengeance with the words: “this is my last jest!” There is great irony in the fact that Poe probably had no idea this last great declamation against cruelty and prejudice, with a side of Gothic chills, would, indeed, be his last great jest.

6. The Purloined Letter.

This was the third of Poe’s C. Auguste Dupin mystery tales, and it’s the second of the two I mentioned would be on this list. While “Murders in the Rue Morgue” is certainly the most iconic of these tales, I actually think this story is even better. It lacks the sense of Gothic horror and slightly satirical humor the first story has, but it makes up for it by being…well…a darn good detective story! Dupin is called upon for help by the local Prefect of Police, referred to simply as “G.” G wants Dupin to recover a stolen letter, filled with incriminating information, belonging to none other than the Queen of France herself. The police know who is responsible for the theft - an unscrupulous minister simply referred to as “Minister D.” who is using it to blackmail Her Majesty. The problem is that they can’t seem to find the evidence to convict him, nor the incriminating document, even after searching the man’s house. SPOILER ALERT: Dupin later reveals that the letter was in plain view all along. Minister D. had presumed that G. would be searching high and low, so he hid the letter by making it simply seem like junk lingering around in the room, instead of tucking it into some super-secret hiding place. Dupin simply arranged a distraction to make sure Minister D. wasn’t looking, then switched the incriminating letter with a phony, before giving the document to the police. Simple but utterly brilliant; definitely one of the best detective stories ever made, in my books, as well as one of the first.

5. The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar.

This is arguably the single most gory and explicitly grotesque of all of Poe’s stories, as well as one of the most unnerving. I can’t help but feel this particular tale had to be an influence on later writers, most notably H.P. Lovecraft, for its combination of surreal, nightmarish, and viscerally deplorable elements. It’s also one that taps into some primal fears and questions, regarding the eternal mystery of what really separates life from death: a concept that forever fascinated Poe in his works. The story tells of M. Valdemar, an old man who agrees to allow a friend of his - an expert in hypnosis - to induce a state of hypnotic slumber on him while on his deathbed. Valdemar dies while under the hypnotic influence - unnervingly, he is able to speak to the investigators, even after he is dead - but as long as the hypnosis is left in place, his body remains totally intact, as if he is arrested in a state of suspended animation. It is hinted that until his soul is allowed to pass on, his body cannot pass, either. After conducting several experiments on the man, the hypnotist and his colleagues attempt to wake M. Valdemar…and - this is the disgusting part - the man suddenly rots away and decomposes in a matter of seconds before their eyes, literally falling apart at the seams and being reduced to a gory mass of decaying flesh. So gross, so unsettling, and so utterly, utterly horrific…I LOVE IT.

4. Fall of the House of Usher.

This is one of Poe’s earliest horror stories, and it’s widely considered to be the first truly great piece of Gothic literature he ever wrote; other stories before this, such as “Ligeia” and “MS. in a Bottle" do have their values, but “Fall of the House of Usher” is widely regarded as the first actual masterpiece Poe wrote. It is a story that has been adapted and reimagined countless times, and is widely considered one of the author’s most definitive pieces of work. The story focuses on - you guessed it - an unnamed Narrator, who goes to spend some time with a childhood friend, Roderick Usher, as well as Roderick’s beloved sister, Madeline. The Ushers live in a dilapidated mansion, situated on a tiny island in the middle of a murky lake, perpetually surrounded by long-dead trees. Roderick claims to suffer from a medical condition that heightens all of his senses to an alarming rate, while his sister spends much of her time in bed, fighting a terminal illness. The events that occur inside the spooky old mansion will forever traumatize the Narrator, and leave both Roderick and Madeline dead. This is one of Poe’s longest and most complex stories, plot-wise, so I don’t want to give too much away. Suffice it to say, this story has a lot of the hallmarks of later Poe pieces: the themes, motifs, and phobias present are among the most frequently visited in his works following this one, and one could easily make the argument that the House of Usher itself was the inspiration for many a famous haunted house and haunted house story in more modern times. I actually like this story more today than I probably did when I was younger, and it has more than earned its place in my personal top five.

3. The Cask of Amontillado.

This was one of the first pieces by Poe I ever read, and it remains one of my favorites. Once again, our Narrator is a killer, only this time he’s actually given a name: Montresor. It’s indicated that Montresor is a nobleman who lives in Italy, and he has vowed to gain revenge (for reasons that are never made entirely clear) against a former friend of his: a wine-loving gourmet by the ironic name of Fortunato. One night, during Carnival time, Montresor entices Fortunato into a wine cellar with the promise of tasting a rare vintage of amontillado. Montresor claims he wants Fortunato to assure him of the beverage’s authenticity. Once there, he shackles a stupefied Fortunato into a shallow alcove, and proceeds to brick up the place, effectively burying Fortunato alive. The murder plot and the way it is carried out are deeply disturbing, but perhaps the thing that makes the story so particularly fascinating is Montresor himself: Poe leaves some subtle implications of what might be at the heart of this feud that has turned so deadly, but he never gives a clear answer as to why Montresor is not only so intent on revenge, but on using such an extreme method as immurement for his vengeance. It invites the the reader to play detective themselves, in a way, pondering the circumstances around the crime, even as the confession is laid before us.

2. Masque of the Red Death.

In many of Poe’s stories that involve supernatural elements, it’s left ambiguous how much of them are real or imagined. This is not the case with “Masque of the Red Death,” and if that’s not unnerving enough, the actual subject matter of the story will be. To a greatly unsettling degree, this story is arguably more powerful today than it’s ever been. Unlike so many other Poe tales, this one is written in the third person (much like “Hop-Frog”), and tells the legend of a horrible plague that swept across a far-off kingdom. This plague was called The Red Death: it caused its victims to sweat blood, and killed within half an hour. To try and escape the scourge, the “dauntless and sagacious” Prince Prospero has himself, his courtiers, and many of his fellow royals and noblemen take refuge in his castle, where they party and cavort, even as the populace beyond the palace walls are left to die from the epidemic. One night, while holding a masquerade ball, however, the Prince and his allies are visited by a mysterious stranger, who is ultimately revealed to be the Red Death itself. You can probably guess how things go from there. The story is a cautionary tale against the inevitability of death, and how no matter what one tries to do, no one - however smart, rich, or powerful they may be - can truly escape it forever. Haunting and unsettlingly truthful, it is easily one of Poe’s most iconic pieces.

1. The Tell-Tale Heart.

Believe it or not, I first learned of this story because of - out of all things - an episode of Spongebob Squarepants. No, that is not a joke: there’s an episode of Spongebob that directly spoofs this short story. Naturally, of course, I prefer the original, but I figured that was worth sharing for the amusement of it. ANYWAY… “The Tell-Tale Heart” is considered one of Poe’s darkest and most delightfully ambiguous pieces (and that’s saying a lot), and for good reason. Once again, our unnamed Narrator is the protagonist…and also, much like in “Cask of Amontillado” or “The Black Cat,” they’re a murderer. However, the killer has a specific agenda in this case: he’s trying to prove that he ISN’T insane. How does he do this? By telling the reader the story of how he murdered and the dismembered a helpless old man that he cared about (it’s left unsure if they are his father, his employer, or something/someone else), because the old man had a weird eye that gave him the heebie-jeebies. (pauses) Yeah. Great way of professing your own sanity there, big shot. In all seriousness, though, that’s the brilliance of Poe’s story: as the tale goes on, it becomes clearer and clearer to the reader that the protagonist is absolutely out of their mind…and that makes the big event - when he swears he hears his mutilated victim’s heart beating under the floorboards - all the more ambiguous. We can reasonably presume it’s a hallucination, but it’s not directly stated to be so. There’s also the possibility it’s a manifestation of his guilty conscience. On another note, just like Roderick Usher, this narrator claims to once again have heightened senses; could he be hearing something else and making a mistake? Or perhaps…just perhaps…it’s the old man’s ghostly specter, haunting him and forcing him to admit to his crime? None of these answers would be out of the realm of possibility where Poe is involved, and all of them are interesting to ponder. However you read into it, “The Tell-Tale Heart” is a gripping and profoundly troubling tale of madness, murder, and many strange, unanswered questions…in other words, all the things that make this author’s work in the fields of horror and crime so renowned. It is no surprise this takes the cake as My Favorite of the Works by Edgar Allan Poe.

HONORABLE MENTIONS INCLUDE…

Morella.

The Gold-Bug.

The Oblong Box.

The Premature Burial.

[animentality]

Dunno how you feel about song recommendations, but there’s one that I found to be very Durge coded. Possibly before the tadpole and maybe directed towards Enver:

Disappear - Karliene

“Lend me close to you, my candle in the gloom. Are we light enough, to save this love?”

“I know I drift away, when darkness comes to play. But don’t give up, on our faded love.”

“If you’re no longer here, I’m scared I’ll disappear. Into the land of darkness, and emptiness, and loneliness.”

It feels very resist dark urge to me.

This honestly reminds me of the poem from Lenore...whose tragic, lonely love story does in fact parallel Durgetash, but you didn't hear it from me.

The silence stretches on - I'm all alone. / Please, can I hold your hands, for just a while?' 

How can I trust? How will I ever know? / How can I show myself, the darkest me?

These empty sheets are all that's left of you. / The last of all the thoughtless gifts you gave.

There is a light in every living thing. / It's crawling t'wards the surface to survive.

[chairofchaos]

Evening friend!

You bring chaos to my life so here is a little chaos for you

2, 3, 5, 8, 19, 26

And just for fun because I know it will probably hurt me 40

Feel free to answer what you want and ignore the rest 🤍

GOOD EVENING.

Thank you for letting me bring chaos to your life, and for bringing me some in return. In your honor, I will answer all. Seemed like the most chaotic thing to do. I considered making separate posts for each question but then again that was a lot of work so just... bear with me. This is a long read, but hopefully, you will find it worth it.

2. Anything that you'd like to write but feel like you're unable to?

Yes. I am currently bouncing around multiple Greek/Roman tragedy adaptations of our beloved ACOTAR and TOG characters. I do not feel prepared to write these yet. I want to do them justice. That semester of studying tragic plays of the ancients has stuck with me.

3. How would you describe your writing style?

I don't even know how to answer this, but my best shot is this:

The vibe must be chaotic.

It must be written as fast as possible.

It should be entirely unplanned.

If it is planned, it should be entirely overwhelming and likely a bigger project than I should ever take on *cough cough* LETTERS *cough cough*

It's not a style as much as it is entirely based on my whims. And that's not always great. In fact, it's something I don't really enjoy about myself (comment on this and I will edit it out of this post so fast I SWEAR).

But I enjoy the product. I think there are at least a couple of you that do, too, so hopefully we can all enjoy that little piece of chaos together. If not, I'll just enjoy the pain I create on my own like a good little fanfic writer.

5. What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?

I don't think such a thing exists. I don't like surprises? Idk, this doesn't really make sense to me. Clearly I have no problem tagging things Dead Dove so we all know what I'm up to lol

8. How slow is a slow burn?

Somewhere between 100 and 100k words. I genuinely do not care. Depends on the medium? The pacing? A slow burn described in a poem is going to look very different than a slow burn in a fic the length of The Iliad and the Odyssey. Or Wheel of Time (that's a long series, right?). I don't care. It's all great. I love slow burns. Haven't written one because I think those characters should be enjoying each other romantically on page 1, but I LOVE reading them.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

UNANSWERED STARS YOU BEAUTIFUL HUMAN. Is this what you expect to hurt (I haven't looked ahead at the other questions I'm doing this straight through, no edits, no takebacks. Welcome to Chaos- you get two.).

Eris was no saint, either. Cauldron knew he kept his mate up some nights. But the Cauldron also knew Azriel would get out of bed in the middle of the night and take off into flight, not returning until he knew Eris would also be awake. After the first time, they would rarely talk about where Azriel went or what he did. Instead, Eris would press a mug of overly sweet coffee into his hands and they would sit together in silence on the front porch, Azriel’s head on Eris’ shoulder and their hands clasped together. - {Working Title is Coffee and Psychotherapy. THIS ONE IS ACTUALLY FLUFF YOU CAN THANK DUSK-MUSE AND NINTHCIRCLEOFPRYTHIAN}

And maybe more along the lines of what you were expecting:

Azriel found the most enjoyment in the training and teaching of others. In his time as spymaster, he regularly found time to work with young soldiers, for which many have since thanked him, crediting him with saving their lives by instructing them in his limited spare time. In the years since the war, Azriel enjoyed collecting books from all over the world. The collection he amassed was the instigator for a library to honor his mate. - Death, and All That Follows (This may or may not be a sort of extended epilogue to something I wrote recently.)

26. What would you describe as OOC?

This is possibly a wild take: I don't think I care what is out of character for characters I write. It depends on the fic, sure. But I think perspective forms our understanding of characters, and seeing them in a new light can often bring a different, even "OOC" type attitude to fics which I often enjoy. I am very much an advocate for "Don't Like, Don't Read" not only for plot points but for characterization as well. If you don't enjoy the way someone writes your favorite (or your least-favorite!) character, don't read it. The beautiful thing about being a part of a fandom is the diversity of experiences within it.

I did not read Nesta's journey the same way you did, or the way your friend did, or the way my best friend did. I brought my own perspectives, my own experiences, to my interpretation of her actions, words, and thoughts. I came out of the other side loving her, and loving the way she loves. I recognize myself in her. I know I'm not alone in that. I know that there are a great many who do not like her in the slightest.

ACOSF Nesta was presented very differently to ACOTAR Nesta. (For the purposes of this argument, we are removing the debate about The Author Herself because I simply don't care at the moment and that's a much larger topic.) I don't think that anyone's interpretation of Nesta is "wrong" or "bad" because we all bring a pair of glasses to reading, and that glass is made of our experiences. That's the filter through which you consume the work. My glasses are different from yours. That's okay.

Little tangent while we're on the topic: I don't care if your glasses are different. But if you break those glasses to use the shards of glass for the purpose of hurting other people, that's a problem. I have a problem now, and so do you. Because of the inclusion of the argument above, it needed to be said, and so here it is: Don't hurt others because of your glasses. Theirs are different. Please learn to recognize that, and that it is okay to view pieces of media differently. Tangent over.

So TLDR on OOC: I don't care. If you want to write a piece where character canonically named Bubblegum Sunshine Princess because of her (in-canon) overwhelming joy and love of the outdoors and her kingdom's candy trees is a murderous assassin filled with rage and the destructive flame of a thousand suns, go right ahead. There's a very good chance I would love to read it.

40. Write a 9-word fic.

Title: This is a Thing [REDACTED] Learned. The title will be longer than the fic itself, and that's the beauty of The Thing [REDACTED] Learned. Thanks.

A/N: (Stars. My dearest friend. You expect pain here? Now I want to prove you wrong...)

Pairing: Your OTP. Or my OCs. Or is this about my life? Or yours? Who knows. I'm not currently well lol

...........................................

Knowledge came with no promises, no love, no you.

...........................................

All the love, Stars. You're the best. <3<3<3<3<3

[nikkori-kori-kori-kori-koriandaa]

WE'RE SO BACK (pkmn-blue -> nikkori-kori-kori-kori-koriandaa)

wowzers i finally made a pinned post!! hooray!!! Info under the cut ^_^

link to my favorite video on the whole internet + second fav

## About Me!!

My name is Sumi, but you can also call me Selene!! (Juli is only for mutuals ^_^) My birthday is February 9, and im bi ace + nonbinary (xe/they)!

My main interests right now are pokemon/pokespe, vocaloid, and genshin impact (tragically). I speak both english and spanish (🇲🇽), though im not too good at writing as I am speaking

Uhh for dni it’s the usual stuff but I block SUPER freely so if I don’t like you you’ll know lmao. Just be nice and we can all be friends!!

ALSO if we’re mutuals know that I love and care for all of you you’re all so cool and amazing ^_^!!!

Discord is umi.sumi :>

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

## Other Blogs!!

This blog is my main, but i have a few others you should totally check out ooohh:

@lovisu - editing blog! @virtual-idol - resource blog for editing stuff!

@prinzessin-derr-verurteilung - where I save a ton of layouts, graphics, stamps etc!

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

## Tags!!

I tag nearly everything cuz I LOVE sorting stuff, but I have a bunch of random tags so here’s a list of those:

☆ juli.txt - my talking tag! ☆ sumicore - info and stuff about me, some are just silly fun things and others are actual like. facts about me lmao. basically any polls cuz i rant in the tags for those ☆ the world is beautiful and I want to live!!! - hopecore stuff?? idk but there’s 3 exclamation marks ☆ images - vaguely aesthetic images but also just pictures I like ☆ queue? queue!! - self explanatory, all the art I have queued is there (99.999% of the things in the queue are fanart lmao) ((it’s actually a problem I have 300+ artworks as of right now)) ☆ hall of fame - my most favoritest posts ever ever forever ☆ teammates - pokemon I’ve used on my playthroughs! they mean the world 2 me ^_^ ☆ words - quotes and poems and stories I’ve liked ☆ creatures - all sorts of animals cause I don’t wanna tag all that

If there’s anything specific you need tagged, let me know!! For eye strain stuff, I tag everything as bright colors.

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

Umm I think that’s everything lol I’ll add stuff if need be

[reputayswift]

7, 26, 34, 58, 62, 90 and 96 (and any one that you want to tell the world ab) 💖🫶

Aye aye, Captain 🫡

7. So American / Olivia Rodrigo 🇺🇸

“He's got hands that make hell seem cold / feet on the dashboard / he's like a poem I wish I wrote"

26. Slim Pickins / Sabrina Carpenter 🤠

"Guess I'll end this life alone / I am not dramatic, these are just the thoughts that pass right through me"

34. Let It Happen / Gracie Abrams 🌦️

"I'd bet all my money that I / will lose to you and hand you my life / here's to hoping you're worth all my time / I might barely know you, but still / don't love you yet, but probably will / turn me into something tragic / just for you, I let it happen"

58. Normal Thing / Gracie Abrams 🎥

"I practiced speeches in private / I was impressed with my every line / I think we call that performing / that's not how I wanna spend my life"

62. Tough Love / Gracie Abrams 💛

Starting to believe the rumor that the songs are scrambled after your top five because I cannot think of a single line from this song to save my life 🧍‍♀️

90. Read Your Mind / Sabrina Carpenter 💌

"You say that you need to be alone / but night and day want me at your beck and call / you say you know that you might be crossin' a line / wastin' all our time / to think that we could be casual / you're not my friend and baby, you never were / why the fuss if you say you just wanna be mine?"

96. Camera Roll / Kacey Musgraves 🤳

"Anyway, thanks / for all the nights and the days / and everything that you gave / I'll never erase it / there's one where we look so in love / before we lost all the sun / and I made you take it"

[volivolition]

:D I want to ask you stuff too!! (Will probably ask more later) 🧭 🏹 🕊

!!! HI RED!!! yesss yay!! :D

🧭 How would you describe yourself, using only the pictures you already have saved to your device? on my laptop right now, so im limiting myself to only images i havent drawn lmao:

🏹 If you were asked to infodump about something, what topic would you talk about? i don't have the energy to infodump much these days, but THE SKILLS~!!! i have a lot of topics i could talk about with them hjgkjg i could talk about relationship dynamics (volistry, volition and empathy childhood best friends, esprit and shivers qpr, the motorics polycule, etc) or any of my fics or my designs for each of them or how tragic echem is or FINALLY EXPLAIN MY VOLTA DO MAR THOUGHTS LMAO

also classpects! i love classpects :]!!

🕊️ What's a piece of art that is meaningful or left a lasting impression on you? ANOTHER!! here's an interpretation of the minecraft end poem by lambsprout, which makes me cry whenever i remember it hjjgkjg <33 the minecraft end poem is always so beautiful... "the universe said i love you, because you are love." <3

asks here!

[bhaal-battle-beer-bard]

ℜ𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔏𝔬𝔰𝔱

𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝟏

𝓐𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖓

commission for @aristenfromwarsaw

“Redemption Lost” song listening while reading – Astarion’s song · Part 2 Aristen

Astarion x Dark Urge Aristen poetry

🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀

Liar, cheater, thief A thousand voices scream In my head, I hear my own, louder than them all True you were, when I met you Which one of us was the fool? Who did fell? Undeserving Wounds deep of centuries Burden my heart, cut deep, cut it out Waiting for someone to hold me - giving up hurts less Maybe not deserving A paradise with bleeding heart Meaningless tomorrows In all eternity Torture and pain, until you feel nothing at all Mouth sewn shut, soul hidden, heart sealed From all I feared, from all I could ever love and care for World in flames, crashing down, I don’t care Electrified with rage and anger Turning my back on burning cities, whose heroes have forsaken me Self-righteousness deserves to perish in flames Can my heart come back from this envious dark? How can I – filled with hate – deserve your love? Your heart is without compare Care, compassion - I never felt before Is enough good in me left, to be loved? My love that I call Aristen Do I deserve to be with you? To be loved? Or is it good, that my name will be forgotten? The undead eternity that I must suffer, just erased it like dust? Like all I had and ever was, since this fatal winter’s night Drowning in the sea of my suffering and misery But you give me breath and light, like the winter constellations in the starry sky Soft hands holding me - suddenly some silver in my darkest night Your taste is like poetry in the air Sweet sorceress of mine Golden lips, golden hair The light of your smile so bright, I have to close my eyes But why do tears glisten in the night? Moonlight upon you Darkness within you You are scared of failing, but I see you fly Your darkness never scares, your heart however does Beating, beating Tender and loving Breaking through my hands? Or is it mine to break in the end? Your eyes see stars in me, when I am nothing more than a burnt-up comet Lying in ashes to rot The more you see in me, the more I crave to be But can I be? But can I be? Good enough for this love of thee? When all I see, is an endless nothing in the mirror Meaningless hollow nothingness Emptiness, my heart an endless void Don’t be afraid You are not the monster of your darkness Your worst sin I see, is hating yourself, giving others more than they deserve Not letting down, those who have abandon you You destroy and despise yourself for nothing You don’t need absolution For me, you are the last light of all days With you I see light and colours in the dark Not reckless, not careless, together a matter to the world You showed me compassion and forgiveness Showed me I can love and care You saved me and gave me everything I don’t want you to leave, because your memory would sing in my blood until the end of all days You make me believe, we are more than what we were made to be

🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀🩸🥀

a/n: second part of my commission for @aristenfromwarsaw

Astarion x Dark Urge Aristen poetry

She wanted a poem about how Astarion feels not good enough to be with her Durge Aristen, not worthy of her love. While Aristen sees Astarion as her true savior, despite she is desperate about her crimes as bhaal spawn and struggling with her past, that should forbid her being happy with a wonderful elf like Astarion, the only one that seem to understand her truly. All the more the irony of their thoughts and doubts. All your wonderful stories about your Aristen and Astarion, inspired me. And you know me, I love a dramatic, angsty, tragic love story the most. I hope I made it not to dramatic – but believe me, the first draft was even way more drama. For two weeks now I've been working on it and I have to say I'm very happy with it and I really like it. I hope you enjoy it, that it inspires you too and that it meets your expectations and gets the message across well. (If the song to this did not get stuck in your head, I'll be offended 😉😆😂) Maybe someone else will take a liking to it too as well. I would be delighted. I wish I could be so focused on working on things for my OCs. I've been writing a short fanfic about Astarion and Saulus since September and well...a stagnating WIP it is since then. This time it really should be like a conversation between Astarion and the Bhaalspawn. Or more like writing letters to each other. I got inspired to this writing style, of a music album from a band, where the first song on the CD was sung by a woman and told of a love story. The last song on the album was sung by a man and was the exact answer to her song. (Or the other way around) I thought that was great at the time. Unfortunately, I can't remember what kind of band it was. Not at all. I can't seem to remember anything these days. Maybe someone knows better than me which album I mean and can enlighten me. (I've noticed that I write differently when I'm composing on a laptop or starting in my bard/poetry book (obviously). Do you prefer the shorter stuff, poems/ballads with fewer/shorter lines? What do you say?)