#they beauty of folklore and all other mythological concepts

[ghost-bxrd]

Eldritch Jason and Fae Dick might get along

They totally would!

Dick would show off his collection of teeth and Jason would blink his countless eyes in bewilderment because— that’s a lot of teeth.

Admittedly, my version of the fae are very close to eldritch entities. Sort of like… cousins. Like, dogs and wolves. Both canines, but wolves have existed for far longer than dogs have 👁️

Other beings or entities is a good word to describe them I think ksksks ✨

[lunatic-pudge]

TF2 Mercs Green Flags (except it's very biased)

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I love my boys. Yes, this is biased and questionable. But this is meant to be cute and fun.

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Scout:

-Silly little goober, great person to be around when you need cheering up

-Golden retreiver boyfriend

-Can easily make you laugh without even trying

-Artsy fartsy

Pyro

-Cutie patootie who makes the cutest drawings of you two together

-Owns an Easy Bake Oven

-Master at baking, never-ending supply of sweets for you to indulge in

-Your biggest supporter. Would literally cheer for you if you rob a bank

Soldier

-Also your biggest supporter, will demand that other adore you as well

-Will let you own any pet you want no matter what the animal is

-Speeches of why you're the best thing to ever exist and how America is blessed to have such a beauty like you live there

-Will give you anything and everything you could ever want, like human ears. Definitely a good person to be if you like collecting weird stuff

Demo

-Precious baby boy is a major cuddle bug

-Def knows how to knit/crochet, will make you whatever you want

-Baby man likes learning about folklore/mythology

-He's essentially a big walking teddy bear. Perfect for cuddles, especially on a cold or rainy day

Heavy

-GIANT WALKING TEDDY BEAR

-Protective baby boy, big scary dog privleges

-Bookworm, can recommend a good book if you don't know what to read

-Perfect person to lay around and cuddle with, he can smother me any day. Dates at home are TOP TIER

Engie

-THE BEST PERSON TO GO TO WHEN YOU'RE HAVING AN OFF DAY HANDS DOWN

-Smart boy, can make you stuff that helps with day to day activities which is helpful if you can't do certain things to having a disability or something

-Dad bod, dad bod, dad bod, dad bod, dad bod, can't get enough of it

-Voice of an angel, will sing for you if you'd like. Can def sing you to sleep

Medic

-NERD, he's an adorable nerd! Let him ramble about his hyperfixations!

-Def a good pet owner, would kill someone if they don't take proper care of their pets

-Would make sure you take care of yourself, he's kinda like a dad that cares

-He's such a maniac. I can see him just secretly being up to no good all the time. And he's also very girlypop

-Putting an extra for him cause I can: Medic boobs. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

Sniper

-Sweet, precious baby boy who can do no wrong. He strikes me as someone who listens to EVERYTHING when it comes to music. He ain't genrephobic

-Also a collector of weird things. Likes making bone jewlery. Bone boy

-I just love the concept of him being feral? This is probably the weirdest thing on the list. Like there's the golden retreiver boyfriend (Scout), and then there's the feral boyfriend (Sniper). Literally acts like a cat, hiding away from people, hissing when people that aren't you tries to touch him, will demand attention/affection from you, ect. I need to make a more detailed idea of a feral boyfriend so work with me plz

-He would absolutely let you wear his clothes, thinking about how adorable you look. He'd do the same with your clothes if they're big enough for his lanky body. You two swap jackets in the winter time so you guys always have a piece of each other when you two are busy and aren't able to see each other

Spy

-I know a running joke is that Spy is a smelly French asshole, but I really do think that he wears some of the nicest smelling cologne out there. Expensive af colonge, but damn, it's addicting

-Smarty pants. Not just anyone can be a spy, it takes quite a bit of intellect for it. And not to mentions he knows multiple languages? Love it, even if I hate the French language with a burning passion

-Him having a good taste in fashion? He's gotta know what he's doing by wearing suits all the time. Not only does he look fresh af, but people always look so good in a suit, especially when it fits them. But please also picture him dressed in a more romantic goth aesthetic plz, okay I'll stop now

-Is good at paying attention to even the littlest of details about his partners. Even if you're trying to be cryptic or subtle about things, he'll always find out. He's def a protective type too

[witchofthesouls]

So, I'm just thinking now, considering how Unicron is Earth (or well, the inner-most parts of the planet, and Gaea being the outer parts and making up his prison), would that technically mean that in some cases he (or perhaps Gaea) may or may not have created some of the Pantheons of ancient Earth?

I mean it would explain why so many of the Greek Gods were such jerks.

And would that furthermore make many of the creatures and beasts in those mythologies creations of the two? Like, going back to Greek Myth, Typhon is actually a direct creation of Unicron, meant to destroy the gods, and potentially Gaea herself.

Idk, just a bit of a thoughty-think I had

Primeval Anon

I did have some thoughts related to this, but more in the 'magic was once real' area.

Personally, I think Unicron was meant to represent the 'end' of everything; he was of the Void where everything was sprang forth, he is the Call to return to it. Death, I suppose.

Gaea is an... intermediary. In a way, she's the bridge of Unicron to Primus as she represents the 'driving force of chaos in creation and death' since neither of them would completely stand on their own. Hence, why Gaea and Megatronus Prime were respectively 'born' because both step into a critical role as support/adversaries/contemporaries for the respective forces that once came of nothing. Primus needs Unicron, just as equally as Unicron needs Primus, so they made their own versions of their brothers to fill that particular void of in their lives, even if Unicron did his by mistake because he was in a coma.

The accidental union between Gaea and Megatronus would have made a nearly indestructible prison that would have kept Unicron caged definitely as he's contained on a very secluded galaxy and feed through Gaea's brand of chaos via life/death cycle of the native lifeforms... if it wasn't for the incoming visits of other Primal lineages or creations (the Quintessons and the modern Cybertronians).

Because of the absolute chaos that's combined, is it really a surprise that Earth/Gaea plays a pivotal setting across the multiverse?

In a more commentary route, when it comes to the Ancient Greeks or any of the pantheons of the ancient world, violence is an integral theme within them because they're are divine personifications of their respective domains. Life is beautiful, but it can be full of grief, suffering, and cruelty as well as joy, wonderment, and compassion. The pantheons reflect that conflicting, confounding nature.

So going back in the direction of the ask, 'magic is real' is basically the joint that holds Elsewhere and all the Other AUs because it's deeply fascinating thinking about the roles that humanity played among that. Magic is a really wild concept in and of itself, so everything can be true, even if contradictory. It's like the old philosophical and theological debate of whether or not did gods predate humanity or did humanity make gods in their image to explain the universe?

So if the power of collective faith had shaped the world holds true, then it really puts a different spin on the various tales told across the world of all kinds of folklore stealing away many humans, staying near human settlements, or the creation of certain kinds of entities, doesn't it?

[oshamirweek]

Further details on Oshamir Week Prompts

Here are some further explanations on what each of the daily prompts entails (full text below the cut). If you have any other questions feel free to ask and we'll do our best to answer.

Day 1 - Canonverse AU: Works for this prompt should take place in the Star Wars universe but change something (or many things) from The Acolyte canon. Some exmaples include: Sith!Osha and Jedi!Qimir; neither were Jedi; Qimir meets Osha first; Osha never leaves the coven; etc. This includes all things considered canon divergence.

Day 2 - Legends & Lore: Works for this prompt can draw inspiration from myths, folklore, and fairytales from any culture or media! This includes re-imaginings of Greek mythology, Filipino folklore, and classic fairytales like Beauty and the Beast. This is probably a theme where artists and editors can really go wild. We can't wait to see what you'll create!

Day 3 - Bonds: Works for this prompt should include concepts such as arranged marriage, soulmates, reincarnation, prophecies, the red string of fate, etc. Force dyads can also fall into this category. Another name for this theme could be 'Fate/Destiny'.

Day 4 - Free Day: Free Day is for all fanworks that do not fall into any of the other six themes of Oshamir Week. Please do not post any works for 'The Dark Side', 'Fantasy', or 'Earth AU', on this day.

Day 5 - The Dark Side: Works for this day include the darker (and sadder) side of our emotions and favourite tropes. Jealousy, betrayal, possessiveness, as well as forbidden love, mind control, tragic endings: all fall under this category. Dubious consent, brainwashing, somnophilia, captor/captured, etc. should be posted on this day. Dead doves and dark subject matter are all permitted, just be sure to tag accordingly!

Day 6 - Fantasy: This theme includes any fantasy or supernatural elements such as magic, vampires, angels and demons, zombies, dragons, monsters, etc. Some elements may overlap with Legends & Lore, in which case you can post on either day. A Royalty AU with magical elements would post on this day. Works based on other fantasy media would also post on this day.

Day 7 - Earth AU: Any modern or historical AU will fall under this day's theme. This includes any works that place during the Victorian era, Regency era, Tang dynasty, Joseon era, etc., as well as university AU, coffee shop AU, athletes AU, and others. Works invoking dark academia or Gothic atmosphere would also fall under this day.

[whencyclopedia]

Noah

Noah is considered one of the patriarchs in the Jewish Scriptures or one of the founding fathers of what became the religion of Judaism. His story begins in Genesis 6 and consists of three elements: the evil of the earth; the flood narrative; Noah’s descendants in the list of the nations of the world. Noah was the son of Lamech and lived to be 500 years old.

The Evil of the World

When human beings began to increase in number on the earth and daughters were born to them, the sons of God saw that the daughters of humans were beautiful, and they married any of them they chose. Then the Lord said, "My Spirit will not contend with humans forever, for they are mortal; their days will be a hundred and twenty years." The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of humans and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown. (Genesis 6:1-4)

"Nephilim" in Hebrew is difficult to translate. From the root of this word, it has often been translated as "those who do violence", and it came into the King James version as "giants". Many ancient cultures had folklore tales of giants in the distant past. Later Jewish traditions claimed that the sons of God were angels and when these fallen angels mated with women, they also taught humans the art of metallurgy. This led to two evils, the coining of money and weapons of war. In the apocalyptic literature of the visions of Enoch, they are called the Watchers. This text claimed that they were punished by God by being chained in the lowest pits of She’ol, an early Jewish concept of Hell.

The Lord saw how great the wickedness of the human race had become on the earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time. The Lord regretted that he had made human beings on the earth, and his heart was deeply troubled. So, the Lord said, "I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race I have created—and with them the animals, the birds and the creatures that move along the ground—for I regret that I have made them." But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord. (Genesis 6:5-8)

We read that Noah was "a righteous man, blameless among the people of his time, and he walked faithfully with God. Noah had three sons: Shem, Ham and Japheth" (Genesis 6:9-10). God told Noah that he was going to "put an end to all people" (Genesis 6:13). For centuries, this passage has been analyzed in relation to understanding the nature of God. If God is omniscient (all-knowing), did he not know that humans would commit evil? How could God change his mind about his creation? However, this story was not unique. Other cultures had stories of a god or the gods punishing humans for their evil. In Egyptian mythology, the sun god Ra, sent his daughter Sekhmet (the lion goddess) to slaughter humans. He then had to undo her destruction when it appeared that all humans would be destroyed and so he made her drunk by beer that resembled blood to stop the slaughter. In Greek mythology, the god Zeus also wanted to punish humans (see below).

Continue reading...

[thewildheartsclub]

Ever since watching a film called The Butterfly Effect as a child, a story of time travel and its altering ripple effect, I had been drawn to the Morpho Peleides butterfly. More so in recent years has it stuck with me in the back of my mind. There was a friend who began to reinvent herself while trying to help others, she called this new version of herself C 2.0 When she passed her strength and courage to survive and rebirth resonated with me so deeply, I felt I must carry her with me always in spirit, hand in hand. It was like I needed to finish what she started or at the very least, prove to myself it could be done. Whatever it may be, she’s on this adventure with me. There have only been a few times I have seen a blue butterfly and it has always been a day where I felt her most. To me it felt like a gentle sign to keep going. This got me to thinking what is it about this symbol that’s stayed with me all this time? This beautiful creature that experiences a metamorphosis spanning 115 days, yet only lives in its 3rd transformation for 2 weeks. Something so exquisite, yet it will never know of its own beauty.

They are often connected to rebirth, spiritual awakenings and reincarnation. It's been said that seeing a blue butterfly after the passing of a loved one is a sign that they are ok. Blue butterflies represent peace, comfort and afterlife.

In Greek mythology, the butterfly represented the soul and immortality. The Egyptians associated butterflies with resurrection and believed that they were a symbol of transformation from earthly life to the afterlife. In Chinese culture, butterflies symbolize love, joy, and marital bliss.

In Japan, the butterfly is considered a symbol of rebirth and renewal. It represents the impermanence of life and reminds us to appreciate every moment. Japanese folklore also associates butterflies with departed souls.

The Butterfly Effect: You can create significant change and have a profound impact on others through even the smallest of actions. It’s easy to underestimate the power of small actions, but they can have a ripple effect that spreads far beyond what you might imagine. This concept is often referred to as the Butterfly Effect, where a small action in one place can lead to significant consequences elsewhere.

The Butterfly Effect highlights how interconnected our world is and how every action we take has the potential to influence others. Just like a butterfly flapping its wings can set off a chain reaction of events, your seemingly insignificant actions can create a wave of change that affects individuals, communities, and even society as a whole.

So next time you see a butterfly, consider what it might be trying to tell you. What are you doing in this moment, what else do you see?

[atamascolily]

Doppelgangers, Homunculi and Other Narrative Possibilities in Walpurgis no Kaiten

The key visual for Walpurgis no Kaiten shows Homura confronting what appears to be a duplicate of herself (or someone wearing her face). Combined with PMMM's predilection for Germanic literature references, this instantly makes me think of the concept of the doppelganger (literally "double-walker"), a term which was coined by the German Romanic author Jean Paul in his 1796 novel Siebenkäs ("Seven Cheeses").

Siebenkas (full title, Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces; or, the Married Life, Death, and Wedding of the Public Defender F. St. Siebenkäs in Reichsmarktflecken, Kuhschnappel). The Wikipedia entry summarizes its plot thusly:

As the title suggests, the story concerns the life of Firmian Stanislaus Siebenkäs and is told in a comedic style. Unhappily married, Siebenkäs goes to consult his friend, Leibgeber (Bodygiver), who, in reality, is his alter ego, or Doppelgänger. Leibgeber convinces Siebenkäs to fake his own death, in order to begin a new life. Siebenkäs takes the advice of his alter ego, and soon meets the beautiful Natalie. The two fall in love; hence, the "wedding after death" noted in the title.

Since then, the doppelganger has migrated further afield, appearing in stories like Edgar Allan Poe's "William Wilson" (1839) and Fyodor Dostoyevsky's The Double (1846). In addition to being a figure of inexplicable mystery and horror, the doppelganger frequently infiltrates its target's life, taking on their name and place in society by displacing the original. The doppelganger is also similar to many doubles from folklore and legend, including the Celtic fetch, which is usually seen as a omen of death. None of this bodes well for Homura, obviously.

The doppelganger is also closely related to the Gothic Double, where one character's personality is divided across two bodies (Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde being the ur-example). In these accounts, the character's shadow--all of the traits that they repress or deny about themselves--manifest physically in the form of a double (often distorted or otherwise visually distinctive) that serves as antagonist and narrative foil in one.

Finally, the doppelganger also serves as the inspiration for the Doppels in Magia Record, which are temporary manifestations of a magical girl's witch form inside the controlled environment of Kamihama City. However, the game takes place in an alternate continuity, so it's not clear what, if anything, will carry over to the movie.

A design similar to Homura's in-game doppel from the 2015 concept movie trailer, featuring the Clara Dolls armed with pins.

While it's not quite the same as a double, there's one other example from German literature that this image reminds me of: the Homunculus from Goethe's Faust, Part II (1832). Homunculi (Latin for "little human") are perhaps best known from shows like Fullmetal Alchemist, but they have been popular in literature for centuries as alchemical creations and artificial life.

In Faust Part II, Faust's assistant Wagner creates the Homunculus--despite greeting Mephistopheles as "cousin", the Homunculus has a unique relationship with Faust, capable of seeing into his dreams. The Homunculus guides Faust and Mephistopheles to the "Classical Walpurgisnacht" featuring the Thessalian witches and other characters from Greek mythology (unlike the more Germanic Walpurgisnacht celebration from the original Part I). In contrast to Faust, who is both matter and spirit and spent most of Part I yearning to be spirit alone, the Homunculus is pure spirit, but yearns to be human. However, he dies in the process as the fire of his being mingles with water and the glass flask containing him shatters on the throne representing Love.

Given all of the Faust references in previous installments--not to mention the association of the Homunculus with fire (remember, "Homura" is a homonym for "flame" and her emblem is a salamander, which was associated with fire in European heraldry) and the shattering of the glass flask mirroring the shattering of a soul gem--it's entirely possible there might be more in Walpurgis no Kaiten. We shall see!

Not every odd or unusual design choice in this show heralds back to Faust, but it's generally a good starting point.

(As an aside, a common term used to describe Wagner is famulus, which has the same Latin origins as the word "familiar". In one of those twists that makes translation so fun, it's also a 100% accurate rendering of the word Sayaka uses in Rebellion to describe her relationship to the Law of Cycles--かばん持ち, kabanmochi, or "private secretary".)

While it's still too early to tell which if any of these archetypes/references will be present in Walpugis no Kaiten, the key visual suggests that the primary conflict of the movie will be Homura confronting herself--though how and why this doubling/splitting/mirroring comes about has yet to be explained. It also suggests that the movie will be as complex, deep, and chock-full of allusions to German literature as its predecessors and I am so here for it.

[bluedalahorse]

Young Royals and the divine disruption of eros

Young Royals enthusiasts have a lot to say about the nature of love (specifically eros, or romantic and/or sexual love) in the show’s universe. Usually they identify an element of the divine in the love we see onscreen. The show itself nods to this with soundtrack choices like Elias’s “Holy” and through some of the imagery and filming choices. (Someone else can probably speak to that better than I can, and probably already has.)

But what does it mean, that love/eros has an element of the divine? Is divinity always benevolent, or kind? Does it always encourage someone toward more compassionate behavior? In a Christian context, we usually think of “love” as being associated with moral goodness, or at least a kind of selflessness or compassion. As a former classics major, however, I can’t help but look at YR’s divine eros through the lens of the ancient Mediterranean myth and folklore. Here, the divine is more a force of nature, and far more morally neutral.

Some background: in the ancient sources Greek gods and goddess are less like immortal, superpowered humanoid beings, and more like abstract and/or natural concepts personified. In Greek mythology, Aphrodite is the divine figure most associated with eros, and she is a powerful and at times vengeful goddess who should not be underestimated. Modern sources (and even a few ancient sources) tend to downplay or soften her influence—leaning into this idea of a beautiful goddess playing matchmaker for lonely individuals—but even when she’s bringing companionship into a person’s life, she’ll still shake things up in the process. The Trojan War begins because Paris chooses Aphrodite’s realm as his definition of beauty/excellence, and Aphrodite sets Paris and Helen’s relationship in motion.

What makes Aphrodite—and by extension, eros—so dangerous is that she is so disruptive to the social order. Marriages in the ancient Mediterranean tended to be arranged, and while eros certainly did exist within some of those marriages, it wasn’t a guarantee at all. You may well develop feelings for someone other than your spouse, and what if that destabilizes your marriage? You could also develop feelings for someone who makes you behave outside your assigned gender or class expectations, and then you aren’t fulfilling your class role, which causes a breakdown in the social hierarchy. Being in love may be euphoric, especially if the person you love loves you back and you’re of compatible social ranks, but it may also be unbearable if circumstances don’t work out for you. Unchecked eros can even lead to the birth of monsters, such as when Aphrodite dooms the Minoan queen Pasiphae to fall in love with a bull, which then eventually leads to Pasiphae giving birth to the Minotaur. Look at any selection of poems from the ancient Mediterranean and you’ll find as many poems cursing love as praising it.

And one of the wildest things about eros? Nothing about it is rational. People may try to rationalize their feelings of eros later, or come up with why they like a person… but feelings just are what they are. Actions can have a rational component, and an element of agency. You can technically control your actions. Still, feelings do not operate in the same way, and feelings are always trying to influence actions. Part of the reason it is important to respect Aphrodite is that she can always get you and hijack your heart when you least expect it. (Unless you’re aromantic I guess, which. Hooray exceptions?)

Let’s bring it back to the Swedish show. I think often, people want to talk about the wilmon and sargust pairings as being as far apart from one another on the spectrum as can be. I’ve even seen the idea thrown around that wilmon’s eros is the Most Real while sargust’s is Less Real, and while I get where that argument is coming from, I also don’t necessarily agree with it myself. On my end, when I look at love/eros in Young Royals as defined first and foremost not by moral goodness but by its power to disrupt, these two pairings feel very alike to me and deeply thematically connected. Moreover, they are equally exciting to watch play out onscreen. Each of the four characters involved develops feelings that conflict with something about who this character is as a person and the social role they hold. Each character at times resists their feelings and at other times gives in. Sometimes both characters give into their feelings together! (Those parts of the story are often gif’d and reblogged by tumblr, at least on the wilmon side of things.) You can also learn a lot about each character by how they deal with the disruptive power of eros, and what they allow eros to disrupt—ultimately, August tries to exert control over his romancey situation with Sara and make it fit his concept of the social order, and disrupts the well-being of the Eriksson family in the process. Wilhelm, meanwhile, is willing to challenge the structures of the monarchy and his own family because of his relationship with Simon. There’s also a lot of twists and turns along the way for each of them that are enjoyable to watch.

There’s a tendency in fandom to hold wilmon as a sort of Fixed And Unquestionable Religious Truth Of The Young Royals Universe, and I get why. There’s also a sort of tendency to see sargust as the devil to wilmon’s god, and again, I get why folks feel that way too. For me, though, I don’t really feel that way, in part because I see both pairings as equally subject to the divine nature of eros, and eros is something that is dynamic and morally neutral and constantly in flux and most of all, disruptive. I like that both pairings are a little chaotic and capable of making me feel a range of things, even if I always do come out of a YR marathon exhausted because of it. Eros is disruptive the way that war and revolution are disruptive, and sometimes they’re all happening at once, and in the end it makes a pretty good story.

Anyway, if you’re wondering, one of my favorite Greek plays is Hippolytus by Euripides, and Aphrodite is pretty terrifying there. I find her power to disrupt and destroy fascinating. And that’s probably why, against the expectations of my mlm slash-loving younger teenage self, I’m going to be writing fic about these trash-tragic horsey heteros for as long as this fandom exists and I feel compelled to do so. No apologies about that, really. You’ll all just have to put up with me.

[wingedblooms]

Lovely monster

This is a Maasverse post, and as such, there are spoilers for all Maas series. Proceed with caution.

If you’ve read any of my posts, you know how much I love witches. I love that they are present in every world in the Maasverse and I cannot wait for them to play a more central role in acotar, especially if many of us are right and the Archeron sisters are indeed witches. This series builds on the Elain witch theory I posted with @rhyssescups back in 2021, which was inspired by a conversation with friends. It is something I return to often and always felt I had more to say, so I am finally getting around to that now, starting with the concept of witches as lovely monsters. Elain's story is believed to be inspired by the myth of Blodeuwedd, a spring maiden who is transformed into an owl in Welsh mythology. I couldn’t help but notice how owls are linked to goddesses, witches, wisdom, and prophecy in folklore. These are connections I draw repeatedly throughout this series, so it makes sense to start with a discussion on owls and witches.

Owls and witches

Like Elain, owls were believed to have mystical and prophetic powers, and the myths surrounding them were full of contradictions (kind of like the concept of lovely monsters). They were associated with mythical beings and ancient goddesses, who at one point in history, represented a continuum of life and death (life, death, and rebirth). They were feared as bearers of death and admired as otherworldly messengers and solemn protectors. As a symbol linked to Athena, the goddess of wisdom in Greek mythology, they were viewed as a good omen: a sign of victory in battle. Some believed they had an inner light that enabled them to see in the dark (and after years of research, we now know their sight and hearing have been adapted for hunting, giving them excellent precision; some can even hunt on sound alone in complete darkness). They were also viewed as a bad omen: a sign of catastrophe and death. This dark aspect is connected to Lilith, a woman, demon, and goddess in various legends who is linked to witchcraft. In Roman mythology, owls were believed to be transformed witches who drank the blood of infants. Sounds familiar, right? 

“What else dwells here other than kelpies?” “Some say witches,” he murmured. “Not the human kind,” he added when she raised a brow. “The kind that used to be something else and then their thirst for magic and power turned them into wretched creatures, banished here by various High Lords.” 

“They don’t sound so bad.” 

“They drink young blood to fill the coldness the magic left in them.” (acosf)

Like owls, Sarah’s witches are full of contradictions; they are lovely and bloodthirsty. Over the course of this series, we'll even see that they possess similar features and powers. Ironteeth witches in Erilea are no exception:

Legends were still told of the strange and deadly people who dwelt there—the cruel and bloodthirsty descendents of the fallen Witch Kingdom. (com)

Slowly, like lovely wraiths from a hell-realm, the witches appeared. (qos)

Even Crochan witches, who are considered peaceful, are described as beautiful and fierce warriors:

“Do you know how many young women I’ve trapped in this wagon in the past five hundred years?” Yellowlegs’s voice was everywhere and nowhere. “How many Crochan witches I destroyed? They were warriors, too—such talented, beautiful warriors. They tasted like summer grass and cool water.” (com)

Some witch clans appear safer than others; strange and beautiful, like Elain. And they are mistakenly underestimated too. 

A blooming flower 

“She is no more High Fae than we are,” Devlon countered. 

A pause that went on for too long. Even Rhys seemed at a loss for words. Devlon had complained when we’d first met that Amren and I were Other. As if he possessed some sense for such things. Devlon muttered, “Keep her away from the females and children.” I clutched Nesta’s free hand in silent warning to remain quiet.

Mor let out a snort that made the Illyrians stiffen. But she shifted, revealing Elain behind her.

Elain was just blinking, wide-eyed, at the camp. The army.

Devlon let out a grunt at the sight of her. But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, averting her eyes from all of those towering, muscled warriors, the army camp bustling toward the horizon … She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses. (acowar) 

After Nesta is accused of being a witch, Mor snorts and moves aside to reveal Elain. This made @rhyssescups and I originally wonder: what truth does the Morrigan know that we (and Devlon) don’t? 

Like the ordinary witch glass amulet with hidden depths from Azriel’s bonus, Elain is dismissed as harmless at first glance. She is busy taking in the camp like an owl, blinking and wide-eyed, possibly seeing fates that others do not and averting her gaze. This may be a coincidence, of course, but Elain is also wearing a blue cloak, like the odd Blueblood witches in Erilea who claim the gift of Sight, and perhaps like Prythian priestesses who have their own lethal power and, when in full garb, represent the Voice of the Cauldron. (Sorry, but I have to wonder—does Elain make them purr, too?) Even the phrase rose bloom in a mud field in this scene is reminiscent of the witch curse in Erilea, as @offtorivendell pointed out in this reblog.

Of claws and fangs

We are reminded by Amren, Rhys, and Azriel at different points that Elain has hidden depths. She has toppled even the most powerful creatures in a moment of unexpected precision and violence. Well after the Feysand bonus conversation, Rhys even links Elain to the fearsome creatures of the ancient Valkyries: 

“We never heard of them in the human lands,” Elain said. She’d been as riveted as Feyre to hear Cassian tell of it: first of Nesta and the others’ interest, then of the brief history of the female fighters. “They must have been fearsome creatures.”

“Some were as lovely as you, Elain,” Rhys said from beside Feyre, “from the outside. But once they set foot into the arena of battle, they became as bloodthirsty as Amren.” (acosf)

Funny, this also reminds me of when Elain set foot into battle—

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.” (acowar)

Is this conversation another reminder of Elain’s other side that we continue to see glimpses of, the side that Rhysand ponders in both acofas and the acosf Feysand bonus? Does this other side have another form, like Amren, who once possessed a deadly, winged body and drank blood? Sarah may have hinted at this possibility in acofas when Elain persistently asked Amren about changing forms. 

Witches are, according to Cassian, changed by magic. Their thirst for magic and power turns them into wretched creatures that drink the blood of the young much like Ironteeth witches who prey on the young and vulnerable in Erilea. Their cruel and bloodthirsty behavior was the stuff of legends and the reason Crochans referred to them as monsters. Monsters who were made.

“We pity you, each and every one of you. For what you do to your children. They are not born evil. But you force them to kill and hurt and hate until there is nothing left inside of them—of you. That is why you are here tonight, Manon. Because of the threat you pose to that monster you call grandmother. The threat you posed when you chose mercy and saved your rival’s life.” She gasped for breath, tears flowing unabashedly as she bared her teeth. “They have made you into monsters. Made, Manon. And we feel sorry for you.” (hof)

Cassian specifies that the kind of witches that are exiled to the bog are made rather than born. Are mortal witches, by contrast, born? Do they descend partially from demon (Valg) ancestry like the witches in Erilea? It makes me wonder about Theia’s line, whether it truly crossed with demon blood like @silverlinedeyes and @offtorivendell have theorized, and a trace of it lingered in a human line (i.e., the Archeron line, as @shallyne has also suggested). If the Archerons are descended from Theia, did their rebirth activate ancient witch heritage? Are they witches born and made? Does this explain why a magical cauldron is obsessed with them? 😆

Regardless of whether Elain might have been born or made into a witch, she has another side that is similar to witches. This side resembles (at least figuratively) Ironteeth witches. Unlike the Crochans, Ironteeth witches were more like their demon ancestors and possessed iron teeth and claws that they could call upon when needed. @cassianfanclub pointed out that Elain showed some teeth according to Feyre: 

I plopped onto the sofa beside Rhys, lifting his muscular legs to wiggle beneath him. “Elain showed some teeth,” I observed. “I wasn’t expecting that.” (Feysand bonus)

And grew claws:

But Nesta cut her off, seething at the pity about to be thrown her way. “Look who decided to grow claws after all,” she crooned. “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” (acosf)

And like Ironteeth, she slices through throats, making the Cauldron—or is it the Heart of Darkness within the Three-Faced Goddess?—purr. 

The Cauldron purred in Elain’s presence as the King of Hybern slumped to his knees, clawing at the knife jutting through his throat. Elain backed away a step. […] The Cauldron seemed to realize what she’d done, too, as his head thumped onto the mossy ground. That Elain … Elain had defended this thief. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something…It would not harm Elain, even in its hunt to reclaim what had been taken. (acowar)

-

He noticed the shut door then, drawing in breath to shout. But Manon smiled broader, and a row of dagger-sharp iron teeth pushed from the slits high in her gums, snapping down like armor. The man started, hitting the door behind him again, eyes so wide that white shone all around them. His dagger clattered on the floorboards.  And then, just to really make him soil his pants, she flicked her wrists in the air between them. The iron claws shot over her nails in a stinging, gleaming flash. The man began whispering a plea to his soft-hearted gods as Manon let him back toward the lone window. Let him think he stood a chance while she stalked toward him, still smiling. The man didn’t even scream before she ripped out his throat. (hof)

-

She [Manon] glanced toward the door moments before he heard approaching footsteps. They were silent until the knob turned, revealing Aedion’s frowning face. “Awake and ready to rip out throats, it seems,” the general said by way of greeting. (eos)

Lest you think I am suggesting Elain choose violence, I think it's important to note that Manon, a beautiful witch with a monstrous side, chose peace. She became a child of peace rather than war.  

Once upon a time […] there lived a witch

Knowing that the worlds are connected and themes are repeated, we might also be able to look to the Hind for clues about Elain’s future as she tells us a story about a witch who becomes a monster to escape an unwanted marriage. She was once beautiful and kind, living in a cottage: 

She began, “Once upon a time, before Luna hunted the heavens and Solas warmed Cthona’s body, before Ogenas blanketed Midgard with water and Urd twined our fates together, there lived a young witch in a cottage deep in the woods. She was beautiful, and kind, and beloved by her mother. Her mother had done her best to raise her, with her only companions being the denizens of the forest itself: birds and beasts and the babbling brooks …”

“She grew older, strong and proud. But a wandering prince passed by her clearing one day when her mother was gone, beheld her beauty, and wanted her desperately to be his bride.”

But she was more interested in a humble life in the forest, and finding real love, than riches or power. 

“She had no interest in princes, or in ruling a kingdom, or in any of the jewels he offered. What she wanted was a true heart to love her, to run wild with her through the forest. But the prince would not be denied. He chased her through the wood, his hounds following.”

The prince and his hounds chase her, so the forest helped her shift form to evade them: 

“As she ran, she pleaded with the forest she loved so dearly to help her. So it did. First, it transformed her into a deer, so she might be as swift as the wind. But his hounds outraced her, closing in swiftly. Then the forest turned her into a fish, and she fled down one of the mountain streams. But he built a weir at its base to trap her. So she became a bird, a hawk, and soared for the skies. But the prince was a skilled archer, and he fired one of his iron-tipped arrows.”

To save her from death, the forest transformed her into a beast of claws and fangs: 

“It struck her breast, and where her blood fell, olive trees sprouted. As her body hit the earth, the forest transformed her one last time …”

-

“As the witch fell to the earth, the prince’s arrow through her heart, the forest transformed her into a monster of claws and fangs. She ripped the prince and his hounds to shreds.” Her fingers began trailing up his spine. “She remained a monster for a hundred years, roaming the forest, killing all who drew near. A hundred years, so long that she forgot she had once been a witch, had once possessed a home and a forest she loved.”

All feared the creature she became except for one. A warrior who saw not a thing of nightmares, but a creature of beauty. His love turned her back into a witch and they lived a life of peace in her forest: 

“But one day, a warrior arrived in the forest. He’d heard of the monster so vicious none could kill it and live. She set out to slaughter him, but when the warrior beheld her, he was not afraid. He stared at her, and she at him, and he wept because he didn’t see a thing of nightmares, but a creature of beauty. He saw her, and he was not afraid of her, and he loved her.” She released a shuddering breath. “His love transformed her back into a witch, melting away all that she’d become. They dwelled in peace in the forest for the rest of their immortal lives.” (hosab)

This story is clearly a metaphor for the Hind (a deer shifter with witch blood who is called a monster for her work with the Asteri), but it made me wonder if it was something she made up or if it is part of witch lore. Is this a bedtime story she was once told? If it’s the latter and these worlds are separated by space and time, as Sarah’s recent interview indicated, then could this story come from another world? 

I wonder this because it reminds me of the Archerons, especially Elain: she’s beautiful and kind and spends much of her time in the garden. Contrary to what we were led to believe, she missed their humble cottage in the woods and didn’t seem concerned about finding a match (until they needed protection). Her mother believed she would wed for love and beauty. Greyson, her fiancé, has hounds, her mate’s family is known for possessing magical hounds, and she fought off Hybern’s hounds with her bare feet. It's clear Elain's got a thing with hounds. Is it possible Autumn Court could send their magical hounds after her in her own story? Could the Cauldron have given her something—a seed of power—to evade their clutches? Will it allow her to grow figurative or literal claws and fangs to defeat them on her own? And might we see her temporarily lose herself to that monstrous power or form? Tell me, who doesn’t want to see the calm and sweet gardener go a little feral? 

Next: Seed of power, or how Elain might learn to shift like a forest witch.

Series: seer. wise woman. witch.

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 3

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (upcoming, minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read (you can skip parts if you think it is too much). Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn't utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics.

Chapter 3

You couldn't dream at all. Or so you thought.

Your first encounter with Dream of the Endless went better than you had foreseen. The apprehension you felt when you walked into the basement had soon faded away, as you came up with your own makeshift plan to do what Mr. Burgess had requested without giving up your honor code. For all you knew, Dream didn’t believe a single word you said, but he didn’t look displeased when you volunteered to offer him your companionship.

Admittedly, there wasn’t much that you knew about him or what his magical presence in the world signified. There were many different stories that portrayed The Sandman in various ways and none of them seemed to be accurate with how they had been transcribed. In 1818, a German author named Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann created a horrific version that described Dream as a monstrous mythological figure throwing sand in the eyes of children, which would fall out if they couldn’t sleep. On the other hand, there also was a much lighter fairy tale written by Hans Christian Andersen, displaying him as an entity who made the little ones drowsy and sent them off to sleep, only punishing the bad kids with no dreams at all. Modern myths and folklore were crafted to answer any child’s question about why people have grit in their eyes upon waking up.

The beautiful tale you loved as a little girl represented Dream of the Endless as a bringer of stories, maintaining the balance of humanity intact. However, most parents had twisted that concept and turned it into a pretext to keep their kids under control. They wouldn’t act badly if they knew The Sandman could come at night to stain their dreams with darkness and fear.

You hadn’t read that volume in a long time, cherished once and forgotten over the years. The urge of going through those pages again was growing within you, eager for knowledge and a trip down memory lane.

The following day, Mr. McGuire inquired how your meeting with Dream had played out. “It’s quite early to speak about trust,” you told him, “But I can assure you that he listened. I might need a bit of time to get through him properly though.”

For his part, he appeared to be satisfied with the little progress you reported. “Take all the time you need, we do not expect you to succeed in a day.”

The second time you talked to Dream, it was during your lunch break with no guard on duty downstairs. Alex and Paul were expecting their usual guests in the afternoon, so you knew you would end up being too exhausted to pay the Endless a visit after a chaotic day.

As usual, Dream was a sight to behold. The encaged physical entity was very attractive and that could not be denied, but the way his marble-like skin glowed under the dim light of the platform made you feel strangely calm and secure. You perceived an invisible force drawing you to him since the first time you met him, a magnet that was glued to your heart and accelerated it, pulling it out of your chest whenever you got lost into his eyes.

“I wish I knew how it feels like to have dreams.”

He stared at you in silence, but he was considering and processing your words.

“I guess I will find out soon, huh?”

Your smile dropped the moment you saw him clenching his jaw. You mainly wanted to be encouraging, reassure him that sooner or later, one way or another, he would get out of that prison as you promised. To him, those were just volatile words with no real foundation, because you didn’t have any tangible proof to give.

You sighed. You were getting goose bumps from the lower temperature around you, and while you tried to contain your shivering since you arrived, your uneasiness could be well spotted along your arms. As soon as you finished your meal, you rushed down the stairs and into the basement without the sweater you had strategically prepared into your room and the skin along your limbs was once again left unprotected due to your forgetfullness. The tights you were wearing had a thin fabric that could barely warm up your legs, the humidity seeped into your bones, stiffening your muscles and almost giving you a running nose.

Dream moved, unfolding his own lean, yet strong legs and pushing himself up from the sphere floor. You looked away from his body Instinctively, now practically fully exposed in front of you. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that his right hand was raised in the air, fingers grazing the glass and requiring your attention back.

(gif by aceofwhump)

You quickly glanced at his face, perplexed and inquisitive. Dream waited, looking at you with his beautiful, deep blue orbs. You followed his lead, brushing your fingertips on the cold material of the bowl and meeting his indirect touch. You were captured by the intensity (and intimacy) of the moment, before an incredibly warm sensation washed over you. Your skin returned to its normal state in an instant and, as if by magic, you weren’t cold anymore. The warmth that embraced you was like delicious honey, coating your chest with its remarkable sweetness. Your entire essence melted into that feeling of comfort and relief, the tension in your shoulders was also gone and your bones no longer felt heavy.

You were left speechless. Amazed. The tips of your fingers were on fire, but the kind of fire that didn’t burn. If he could do such a thing without the majority of his powers, you could only imagine the greatness he would be able to achieve without any binding circle blocking his capacities.

But there was more. Your whole hand felt electric and you sensed a connection between your bodies despite the glass separating you. Dream noticed it too, his eyes widening and watering as his breathing came to a halt, it was something so powerful that it travelled farther down to your toes.

Then, the way it came, it stopped abruptly when he jerked his wrist back and your palm was left alone, empty, pressed against the sphere. You didn’t know how to react, what to think of it… and clearly neither could he. All you knew was that Dream noticed your discomfort and somehow he managed to dissipate it.

You were about to thank him, when the indistinguishable hammer sound of a Revolver echoed behind you and made you turn in shock.

“Get away from there, Missy!”

The now familiar guard was pointing his weapon at Dream in a fighting stance, looking up and down between the two of you in alarm. You put your hands up in a placative manner, walking away from the cage and breathing out. “Sir, you can put that gun down. He wasn’t doing anything, I assure you.”

“Didn’t look like that to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Seriously? He’s locked into a fucking cage! What do you think he’s gonna do?”

The guard hesitated, but he adjusted his grip around the gun. “Don’t care, don’t want to know. Just gotta do my job.”

Your arms dropped along your sides in exasperation. “Yes, you are oh so big and scary, we got the message. I’m asking you again Sir; can you please put that thing down?”

The guard nervously licked his lips and stepped forward. “You should get away from him, this instant.”

“What is it, you’ve been confined to this house for so long that you miss the action?” You inquired. The anger was bursting inside of you, thundering and exploding like a firework. “If you want to pull the trigger that badly, then you’ll get a lot of explaining to do. Because I’m not going anywhere, just so you know.”

You took a step back, grazing the cage with your knuckles. Dream slowly knelt down, you could feel his presence close to your shoulder as he approached the glass once more.

All the blood was rushing to the guard’s face. The man grunted and put his gun back into the holster when you stayed true to your word, standing firmly onto the platform. “Bloody hell.”

You responded with a triumphant smile. Your nails were absently drawing patterns on the sphere, your back against it felt tingly and heated.

The guard's eyes were boring into you.“I’ll have to report this,” he said. “Just so you know.”

Oh, such a bad game he wanted to play. “The cage and the binding circle are fully intact. What is there to even report?”

You could hear the guard growling from the other side. His fingers were twitching in irritation, but he decided not to argue further and bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from responding in kind.

In the end, he tried to get rid of you the easy way. “Shouldn’t you get back to work, Miss?”

As much as you disliked it, you had to admit that he was right. You were only supposed to be there for a few minutes, but you probably already exceeded the time at your disposal.

“Yes, I should,” you confirmed. Turning to Dream, you lowered your voice so that only he could hear you. “Will you be okay alone with that prick?”

Dream nodded at your question, almost imperceptibly.

“I’ll be back soon.”

When you left the platform, you looked at the man taking his usual place next to the table. He was unfolding the daily newspaper, complaining under his breath.

“Try to be a little nicer to him,” You told him, to which he answered with a tight smile that looked more like a twisted grimace.

He didn’t like you, clearly, and the sentiment was mutual.

Dream’s attention was fixated on you as you left and he didn’t look away from the open gate not even when you disappeared behind it.

(gif by stephendorff)

“I want to be a friend for you, if you will allow it.”

The words you said had been lingering in Morpheus’s mind since the night you visited him alone. He wanted to believe you, to trust your promise, for you seemed to be the most sincere and honest human to walk into that hellhole in a century. Still, his doubts about you could not be fully dismissed; it would be so easy for you to betray him, defy him, go back on your word when more profitable opportunities presented themselves. You had all the incentive to keep him where he was, while your reasons for doing as you were told could be understood, trust was definitely a hard thing.

But then you had returned and something unexpected happened.

Just like the night you first met, he could see the coldness you were suffering from on your skin and in the shivers you did your best to hide. As you talked to him about all the little adventures you were living in the Waking World, Morpheus found himself captivated by your stories, considering your narrative skills quite compelling. You spoke with such vividness and humor, the way you described the general hardships you faced and the challenges you overcame was bizarrely entertaining.

You provided a good companionship in the little time you spent in front of his cage, something he was not used to after 106 years of loneliness. A mortal had come to him with kindness and understanding, with no demands and no desire to get something out of him. You were there to do a job, but you simply wanted to talk and he was comforted by it. There was something different in you, he could see your sincerity and the will to stay despite your physical uneasiness.

Morpheus couldn't leave you like that. While his magical tools had been taken by Roderick Burgess the day he was captured, he was still left with a fragment of his power, so he stood into the sphere and reached out to you for the first time. It was surprising that you looked away to respect his state of undress. To him, clothes were just a form of expression, not a way to stay covered or warm. He wasn't concerned about being naked in front of others, but you were, again, the only one showing him a bit of decency.

When your hand met his over the glass, Morpheus could see the relief spreading onto you as the coldness disappeared, but the little contact he enstablished ended up affecting him as well, contrary to what he had predicted. As you closed your eyes and let yourself lull by his warm energy, Morpheus saw through you in a way he didn’t think possible. He had always known everything about any living being, their name, their story, their wishes and their dreams, but the binding circle had prevented him from exploring your background, so you remained a partial mystery from the beginning.

He saw it all and more that day. He searched into your heart and found nothing that would taint it. There was no darkness, no lie, no deceit. He could only see light, a brilliant and beautiful light, that seemed to fill every corner of your being. He saw the gleam forming around your figure, as bright and calming as a shining star in the sky. Your fears became his own and he felt the love that resided in you, a love so strong and so true it felt almost overwhelming. You had the purity and innocence of a Goddess enclosed within your delicate human form.

Morpheus was inspecting his hand now. The tingles in it were dissipating, yet his chest was still burning hot. The guard was watching him from his seat, but Dream’s thoughts kept wandering back to you and the way you glowed, the way you smiled, the way you bravely challenged that man to protect him.

Morpheus came into existence once lifeforms capable of dreaming appeared in the universe. He had seen it all, gained and lost a lot, discovered and learnt everything there was to know about mankind. Never before had he encountered a mortal such as yourself, not even when he got acquainted with Nada, his fragile human lover from a very distant lifetime.

You were undoubtedly speaking the truth about your intentions, your unwavering determination to save your father was undeniable, but you didn't want to do it at the cost of Morpheus's freedom. He couldn't help but believe you.

He was intrigued by your strength and courage, by your gentle spirit that exuded from you. Morpheus wanted to know you, to see more of you, to understand you. You were like a fresh book that he couldn’t wait to leaf through.

Curiosity killed the cat, he knew that proverb very well. But he could not refrain himself from wondering what other marvels you had to show him.

For a very short moment, you made him forget about his captivity and the eagerness he had of being set free.

As it turned out, the guard wasn’t just babbling about and effectively disclosed whatever he thought he had witnessed into the basement. Mr. McGuire came looking for you that same day, curious to hear your version of the story and to make sure your safety with Dream wasn’t compromised. Nor was theirs.

You told him about your haste and distracted mind. You described the way Dream had placated your discomfort, but left out the rest as you wouldn’t even know how to explain it. And you didn’t really want him, nor anybody else, to know how powerful it was and how good it made you feel.

Mr. McGuire blinked a few times, analyzing what you had just said. “That’s it? Is that what he did?”

“Yes, what else? He’s not the monster you all think he is.”

“It’s not that, just… he didn’t try playing tricks with your mind or controlling it, did he?”

“No. If that were the case, I doubt he’d be still locked downstairs.”

With the guests arriving at the mansion, the amount of work on your side had magnified and you had to incessantly run back and forth throughout the evening. Paul’s interruption and interrogation only served to slow you and your tasks down, so you reminded him of the importance of your deal and the fact you couldn’t have him looming over your shoulder whenever the guards felt like reporting every single change in Dream’s demeanor. Thankfully, Mr McGuire agreed with you and he guaranteed that he’d personally have a talk with those two to soften up their rigid attitude. He also highlighted the peculiarity of Dream’s action, or rather spellcast, addressing it as the very first contact he ever had with a human in over a century.

When Alex was young, Dream had tried to break into his mind in a similar fashion. The young boy managed to snap out of that hazy state and regain full control of himself before touching the glass, but he described it as an incredibly strong pull that clouded his judgement, enchanted him to the point he no longer remembered his own name and almost made him fall into Dream’s clutches.

He had the perfect chance to try the same trick with you. Maybe two private encounters were barely enough to define you as his friend, or anything relatively close to that… but you could tell with absolute certainty that he wasn’t concocting any sort of evil plan to harm you. In fact, he did the exact opposite.

In the evening, you poured drinks and brought an unimaginable quantity of food to the guests in the living room, lost in their various conversations with Mr. McGuire and Mr. Burgess who had finally come out of his room. The man didn’t talk much. One would think he would relish the company after so much time spent by himself, but even though he was looking at everyone, it was as if he didn't really see them. He was lost in his own world, listening without catching any of it.

Mr. McGuire was sitting at his side, participating in the random, boring talks taking place. One of the men, sprawled in front of them on the leather couch, raised a glass full of wine and let out a satisfied sigh. You lost count of how many drinks he had since he arrived, saying he looked nasty would be an understatement. “My word Alex, your house never ceases to amaze me. Cheers! Your hospitality is appreciated, my friend.”

Mr. Burgess showed the hint of a smile, but did not respond.

“I was thinking, is it true what they speak about ol’ Roderick? About here? I’ve been hearing a certain rumor for quite a while, you see.”

Your ears pricked up and your motions slowed down. You didn’t like where this was going.

“They say you hold the bloody Devil into your basement, that he is granting your family riches and longevity.”

The empty bottle of Whiskey you were holding slipped from your grip, but you promptly catched it before it could fall and shatter on the floor. Paul’s eyes met yours for a moment and you quickly adverted your gaze, the guest continued with his investigation without paying attention to your mishap. “Tell me, is it really just a rumor or…?”

Mr. McGuire let out a nervous laugh. “I’m afraid that’s all it is, just a rumor. Nothing more.”

The man eyed the couple with a look of barely-concealed contempt. He drank more of his wine and emptied the glass in one fluid movement, like it was some kind of competition. “Ah. That’s a pity."

Mr. Burgess was feeling increasingly uncomfortable, wanting to be anywhere but there. “Miss Y/LN, “ he said. “Can you refill his glass, please?”

The man's eyes lit up at the prospect of more wine and he extended his hand to you. His lack of coordination almost smacked the glass right into your cheekbone and you dodged it in time. “Thank you, thank you!” He exclaimed.

You complied, putting on your mask of innocent and condescending housemaid. “Right away, Sir.”

You were exhausted, more strain on your emotions than on your physical body. You didn’t hate your job, you had grown accustomed to it and you had to admit it was keeping you in shape, which was a benefit you were thankful for. The most draining part was having to listen to the obnoxious speeches of the drunken guests every single week and it was taking its toll on you.

Mr. Burgess and Mr. McGuire were apparently as frustrated as you were. It was astonishing that people could show such a lack of interest and respect in their home and you couldn’t understand why they were so keen to socialize with a bunch of total morons. It was easy to see their intentions when the man mentioned the rumors about Dream; they were only driven by their own opportunism, taking adventage of the Burgess family’s financial abundance, quality drinks and expensive meals. Chances were they also hoped to make a deal with Mr. Devil, gaining power and gold for themselves. You could taste the vitriol on your tongue at the thought of Dream locked into that cage and mistaken for a filthy demon. The Endless deserved better than that.

The night felt as if it would last forever. The mattress beneath you was very soft and comfortable, yet your eyes couldn’t remain shut for more than ten seconds. Your insomnia had kicked in like it did practically every night, leaving you distressed and impatient with your throat getting dry.

You turned on your back, then on the other side. You sat on the edge of the bed and took a walk around the room, careful to not make any noise. Back and forth, left and right. You paced around for a while, the darkness of the night was enveloping your senses and the lack of sleep weighting down on your mind.

You climbed back to bed in a fetal position, same ritual and same result, every damn time.

Eventually, you tired yourself out so much that your eyelids finally started to get droopy. Your breathing became slow and steady, your body slowly sinked further and further into the mattress. You pulled the bedsheets to your neck and let yourself drift off into a dreamless sleep.

Or so you thought.

(gif from here)

Everything was dusty, gloomy, hazy. You were standing in a field of sand, stretched out as far as the eye could see. You had no idea where you were and you felt disoriented. The wind howled around you, blowing into your face. You pushed your hair away as you attempted to look ahead. You made out the shape of something big and white in the distance, it was calling your name, silently and strongly, beckoning you forward.

You walked into the unknown, one hand cupped on your forehead to protect yourself from the sandstorm. The dark fog began to subside, the wind died down and you could see what stood in front of you more clearly. So high and imponent, so beautifully made.

Everything was appearing a little blurry and you had some trouble putting it into focus. You could feel the warmth of the blazing sun rising behind you, but its comforting presence was mixed with thunders reverberating through the menacing clouds. As you stepped close to the large object, your curiosity grew and you noticed it was a stoned barrier. It was the entry of something you were feeling attracted to, but you were not yet allowed to discover it.

You squinted, inspecting every carving that had been masterfully created on those gates. There were complex ornaments, symmetrical sections and birds of prey on both sides, a weird alien-like mask built at the top and reflected like a mirror. But what truly captured your attention was the detail in the faces of someone imprinted into the stone, illustrating what you perceived like a distant memory, a heartbreaking love story. One of the faces was strangely familiar, although your mind was all fuzzy and you could barely think straight.

You reached for one of the two doors, feeling the hardness and roughness of the stony material under your skin. You hoped to see it moving, opening at your touch, but something about that whole situation was somehow completely wrong. You stared at your fingers in utter confusion, as you suddenly counted more digits than you were supposed to have in one hand. It was like watching a glitchy monitor with an out of focus slide where things looked overlapped, your eyes couldn't adjust and your overall awareness had considerably started to fade.

The gates blew away, slipping between your distorted fingers in a handful of grains. The wind picked up again, swirls of sand engulfing you and dragging you into an expanse of pitch black before you woke up.

You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling, your mind lingering on the images of the mysterious land you had just visited. You tried to remember every detail, but with each passing second the memories dissolved, until all that was left was a sense of wanting and nostalgia. It was all gone and forgotten, sent far away and locked into a remote corner of your brain, never to be recovered.

You didn't have the key to access that again. It was lost, gone, evaporated… and you remembered nothing. To you, it was as if you never dreamed.

You turned from side to side a few times more, fixing the pillow and slowly falling into another restive slumber.

It was a foggy morning and the birds were just starting to sing their songs in the still air. You discended the stairs to the basement, eager to check on Dream again before taking your leave for the day.

The guards snorted when they saw you arriving, but your visit to the Endless would be a brief one, which is why you allowed them to stay without paying too much attention to their mockeries and the derision emanating from their throats.

Somehow you felt more confident now, striding to the platform without any hesitancy in you and focusing on the task ahead.

“Good morning Dream,” you greeted him with a newly formed smile. “How are you holding up?”

Dream’s back straightened as he looked at the guards and you followed the rapid movement of his irises. “I know, poor choice of the personnel right there,” you scoffed.

Dream pouted, his lips so plump and pink, so soft-looking and totally kissable. You stared shamelessly, your teenage attitude bubbling beneath the surface. You gulped it down and touched the glass, your fingers gliding along the smoothness of the sphere.

In that moment, you thought about all the fingerprints that had been etched onto the surface.

“Just hang in there for a little while longer,” you murmored softly. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

His staring shifted onto your hand, but he didn’t reach for it this time. A part of you wished he would. You ignored it.

“Take care, Dream. I’m in a hurry right now, I’ll come back to see you again tomorrow.”

Your heart melted when you noticed the slight desperation in his altered posture, looking at you like a pleading child. Not a single word came out of his mouth, but his glistening eyes and stiffen shoulders spoke volumes about the frustration he was feeling.

You wished you could have stayed, but unfortunately you had matters to attend to. The temptation of postponing your plans just to be with him for the entirety of the day was poking your head, but your father was expecting you and so was your friend who you promised to have lunch with.

You gave him an apologetic smile and waved your goodbye. Your boots resounded into the basement with each quick step over the brick floor, you went back up the stairs in a haste, grabbed your bag and scurried out of the silent house, the cab already waiting for you in the morning haze. The sun was just beginning to show its first light over the horizon, the thin rays peeking through the trees and brushing against your cheeks.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the Endless all the way back to town. And even after that.

Upon arriving at your father’s place, the man came running at the door to welcome you inside. The physical boost he was proudly showing off since waking up had the nurse’s hair standing, only 72 hours after the first administration. Doctor Mills happened to be as astonished as you were, watching him dancing and singing in the living room on the notes of Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash. He had calculated between 20 to 30 days of treatment before noticing a proper sign of recovery, but the fatigue had considerably reduced, his appetite was going back to normal and his blood pressure was no longer displaying alarming values. Doctor Mills clarified that three days were purely indicative and a relapse wasn’t feasible to exclude. He preferred to stay with his feet planted on the ground, monitoring the entire progress without feeling overly excited ahead of time. Still, he praised the strong willpower that your father clinged to since the first diagnosis, considering it a huge factor playing in his favor.

Trying to convince him to stop jumping around like a spring and follow the doctor’s guidelines made you feel as if you were handling a disobedient toddler. He was still a little underweight, but the color had returned to his face. You had hoped to see him going back to his old self for a very long time and almost stopped hoping for the failed attempts. None of the medicines he took in the last couple years produced a similar effect before.

The rest of the morning continued wih the two of you catching up and chatting about your everyday lives. The poor man didn’t have a lot to tell beside the summarized plot of his favorite TV shows, so you did most of the talking and carefully avoided anything that could accidentally lead to the basement and what it contained. Your father snorted when you talked about your job, reiterating how disappointing it was to see you wasting your talents for his sake. You couldn’t yet decide to drop your fruitful position for something else, something that you could hardly see happening. And most importantly, you couldn’t abandon the Endless to his fate, a fate that you wanted to change with all your might by giving him the freedom he deserved.

You reached The New Inn to meet a special friend you hadn’t seen in a long time. The place had an antique style, the smell of wood mixed with freshly brewed coffee was always a combination that never failed to inspire you and make your creative juices flow whenever you wanted to work on your Portfolio.

You missed that immensely. Coming back after over a month of absence was refreshing and that sense of familiarity was something you were seriously lacking in Wych Cross (except maybe when you found yourselt in Dream’s presence. Why were you thinking about him again?). Your father was right about one thing; Fawney Rig would never be a place you actually belonged to.

You could already hear clinking glasses and the loud buzz of conversations coming from the door with people entering and leaving. You stepped inside, glancing at the table your friend liked to pick to enjoy some peace and quiet. And there he was, distinguished and composed, bent over a pile of grading papers. He took his teaching job very seriously, always carrying work to do wherever he went.

(gif by seniorinternaut)

You smiled brightly upon seeing him, waving at the waitress and walking past a group of customers cheerfully drinking at the bar. He looked up, meeting your eyes and smiling back with equal excitement. You could barely reach the table before you had his strong arms around your smaller frame, drowning into his cologne as you were pressed against his chest.

You returned the hug tightly, squeezing away the time and distance that had separated the two of you. “Hob! It’s so good to see you!”

You both let go, stepping back to take a good look at each other. “It’s good to see you too, Shortcake! How have you been?”

“All good! Work is keeping me busy though. Sorry for going MIA.”

It’d been far too long since you had the chance to properly talk to Hob. With you now living in Lewes, you were always unable to spare time to meet up despite all the good intentions you had to reconnect. You were determined to make up for lost time now, so you eagerly took a seat in the cozyness of the Inn.

He collected the papers partially marked with notes and grades in red, placing them into his leather bag to make some space.

“Don’t worry about it, I find you well! How’s your new job?”

“It’s average, really. And my insomnia is as bad as it could be. Have you seen my freaking eyebags?”

Hob shrugged. “You look great to me. Even more beautiful than usual.”

“Ever the gentleman!”

He winked at you from the other side of the table. “I hope they are treating you well in there. Did you find out if those rumors were true?”

Here we go again.

“Definitely not. If they had a demon locked somewhere in the house, I would know. I clean that place literally from top to bottom almost every day.”

Hob chuckled, giving your hand a light squeeze. “But they are treating you well, yes?”

You nodded. “Yes, I must say they are.”

When the food arrived, its delicious aroma immediatly filled your lungs and the first bite was even better than you remembered. Hob took your orders while waiting for your arrival, knowing all too well what your favorite meal was. He poured some quality fresh beer into your glasses, taking a quick glance at the entrance with a mournful expression. You saw him kicking down the disappointment and couldn’t really brush it aside.

“Still waiting for that friend of yours?” You asked.

Shaking his head, Hob looked defeated. “I probably won’t see him again.”

“Don’t say that.”

“The last time we were supposed to meet, he stood me up. I’m afraid that what I said back then has offended him greatly. I ruined it.”

“Hob,” you spoke softly. “It would take a lot more than a small fight to destroy a real friendship.”

He sighed. “I’m afraid this ‘real friendship’ as you call it had a completely different meaning to him.”

You put down your fork. “Look, you told me you have seen each other for… how many years again?”

He hesitated. “Too many to count.”

“Even if this guy is a very busy one, he always remembered about you, didn't he? You don’t know what happened, maybe something came up and he couldn’t make it for whatever reason.”

“I do hope you’re right, but even so, I have no way to contact him. To apologize for being a bloody idiot.”

“You don’t have his number?”

“Let’s say he’s not exactly the tech type.”

“Mh.” You resumed your eating. “Wanna bet he’ll come through that door in no time?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn't really bet on that.”

“Okay then. Call it a gut thing.”

“Again?”

“Was it ever wrong?”

“Now that you mention it…”

Your conversation moved to different topics as you consumed your lunch. Hob shared some funny anecdotes about his students, who all seemed to adore him and deeply respect his historical knowledge. It wasn’t surprising, he always knew events and facts that nobody ever taught you in class and you often joked about how he might easily come from a different century. You could listen to his lectures for hours without feeling even remotely bored, he just had a certain way with words, so polite and sometimes old-fashion, that a part of you wished you could be a student again.

When you told him about your father’s unexpected recovery, he was delighted to hear the news. The day Doctor Mills revealed his stomach conditions and general physical failure, your entire world collapsed over your shoulders and Hob was there to sustain you as you gasped for air. He held your hand in his to keep you on your feet, refusing to let you fall into that void of darkness and sorrow. Hob never told you much about his family and personal life, but losing a loved one was something he went through different times. He couldn't allow you to face that anguish alone, gulping down your despair and pretending it wasn't happening in front of him. He was such an incredible friend that, you were sure, nobody would have the balls to let someone as amazing as him slip out of their life.

You were so engrossed in your chat with Hob that you completely lost track of time. Before you knew it, you walked out of the New Inn in the chilly air of the late afternoon, a considerable contrast with the pleasant warmth you got accustomed to inside.

Since you were planning to make a stop at your place before returning to the Burgess mansion, Hob kindly offered to give you a ride, driving down the busy roads, passing trees and houses lit by the fading sunlight. You had to admit you were missing your town and old habits more than you had anticipated. The hustle and bustle of the city life, the bright lights in the night sky, the smell of freshly baked bread from the local bakery. All of those things you had taken for granted and now you were pining for them. Sitting down with your best friend, sharing stories and jokes over lunch and a cup of coffee, simply reminded you of how much you were lacking in favor of your financial benefit.

You knew it was worth it, especially now that you were finally seeing the results you were hoping for.

It was worth it, yes, but your father’s words continued echoing in your head.

“Do you know what else I’ve noticed? That you are so dishearteningly unhappy, my dear. You have dreams and an enviable creative talent that is literally going wasted.”

You never regretted your choice, truly. You’d do the same thing even if God decided to give you a second chance and send you back in time, willing to face the same hardships and give it all up again. But you often found yourself wondering about the life you could have lived if things went differently, imagining an alternative universe, or more planes developing at the same time, with just another You facing multiple outcomes.

Hob pulled over, stopping the car and parking in front of your apartment building. As the gentleman that he was, he stepped out of the vehicle to reach the passenger side and pull the door open for you, holding your hand until you were out of the car and fully standing. You thanked him with a smile and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear in a fondly way.

You adjusted the bag over your shoulder. “I’m glad we could meet today, I really missed you, you know?” You told him, tears already threatening to form at the thought of departing from him once more.

Dammit.

“Same here, Shortcake. I’m so glad to see you in such a good shape.”

“Thank you for caring. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He grinned. “You would be lost as hell.”

Snickerig, you hit him lighty on the arm. “You’re so full of yourself, Mr. Gadling.”

“Aye, sweetheart,” he puffed out his chest. “Come on, have you seen me?”

Again, you burst out into a wholehearted laugh, so carefree and full of joy. The kind of joy you hadn’t felt in a very long time, the kind of joy you had almost forgotten. The kind of joy you thought you didn’t deserve anymore, the kind of joy you missed tremendously and needed like oxygen in your existence. The kind of joy that twisted into sadness, a sadness you felt expanding from your chest along your entire being.

Hob’s own laugh subsided when he saw your smile fading, narrowing his eyes in confusion. In that moment, your emotions started to run wild, it was as if someone had pressed a switch and flipped you over like day with night, light with dark, hot with cold.

Hob was aghast at your sudden breakdown. “Hey hey, what happened? Why are you crying…?”

Everything you kept buried into you was overflowing, bursting into an outpouring of tears. You tried to stop it, but the moment Hob embraced you and stroked your back with both hands in a soothing manner, you clutched the sides of his jacket and surrendered to your burning pain. The feeling came on gradually, like a wave, starting out small and slowly building until it was overwhelming.

He hugged you tightly, whispering soft words into your hair. “Shhh, it’s all right Buttercup. I’m here.”

Cracking in front of your best friend was definitely not something you had put into account. You wished you could have waited to be in the silent comfort of your private quarters before opening the floodgates, releasing all the vulnerability you didn’t know you had mounting to that extent. The worries, the tiredness, the anger, the piled up frustration… even the feelings you were most certainly developing for Dream. But there also was something else, something amiss from within you that you couldn’t quite decipher. You let all that out, flowing through loud sobs and heavy gasps. The responsibilities crashing onto you were suffocating and the fear of failing the ones who were counting on you, believing in you, had you screaming in agony.

Hob didn’t speak, he let you vent against him, keeping you between his arms until you started to calm down. It felt like an eternity, but eventually the tears slowed down, your chest felt empty and a sense of calm washed over you as your strength and resilience started to come back. You pulled away, drying your soaked cheeks with the heavy sleeves of your coat.

“I’m sorry, Hob. I don’t know what’s gotten into me all of a sudden.”

He smiled, using his thumb to brush away the teardrops at the corner of your eyes. “I hope it’s not a guy. Do I need to break someone’s nose? Because I’ll do that.”

His gentle words caused a new rush of tears, so you took a deep breath and shook your head. “No, it’s not that. The thing is, I’m already lost, Hob. Do you know that feeling of constantly walking on thin ice, as if it could break at any moment and suck you underneath?”

He let out a pained snort. “I may know one thing or two about that, yes.”

“What did you do?” Your voice was shaking.

He let his mind drift, letting the memories of his past come back to him. As he searched his mind, images and thoughts came in. “I’m afraid I don’t have a real answer, Y/N. I just knew I still had a lot to live for, so I endured. And then, it was finally over. “

“Which means, after the rain comes a rainbow?”

“It may not look like it, but it always does.”

You shoved your hands into your pockets. “I don’t know. The past couple years have been a living nightmare. I just want it to be over, I want to live the dream.”

Interesting choice of words you picked there…

“Y/N, If someone can rise of the shitty storm, it’s you.”

You let that sink into your heart, using it as the motivation you seeked to move forward without teetering. You were tempted to tell him everything about the basement in Fawney Rig, about Dream of the Endless, about your intention of setting the entity free. You knew that Hob would never doubt your words and the secret you were carrying with you was consuming your thoughts, growing too big for you to handle on your own. You let it roll on your tongue, seething in anticipation as you were about to spill it, you had it coming closer and closer to the edge, you wanted to say it, you needed to.

But no. In the end, you drew it back with resignation, as you didn’t want to involve anyone else in Mr Burgess’s affairs. It wasn’t the right time, you figured, to reveal something you were still trying to process yourself.

The last rays of sunlight disappeared, painting the world around you with beautiful orange and yellow hues that blended with purples and pinks, creating an ever-shifting canvas of beauty. The birds flew through the sky, their feathers catching the colorful lights. The trees swayed in the gentle breeze blewing through your hair, their leaves rustled and reflected the glowing tones from above. For a moment, all your worries were forgotten, taken away by the sun dipping lower and lower behind the buildings.

“Hob, about that thing you said before, that you still had a lot to live for…”

“What about it?”

You spotted a few twinkling stars, marveling at the artistry of the lively sky shaping into different colors and forms.

Almost like a dream.

“Do you see how beautiful it is?”

Hob looked up as well, the golden tones of sunset were framing his chin and jawline, highlighting their sharpness and masculinity.

“Witnessing things like this with a good friend by your side… these are the moments that I consider worth living for.”

Hob smiled to himself, supportively patting you on the shoulder and keeping you against him with a tight, reassuring grip. It was his way to let you know that he would always be there for more sunsets, more sunrises, more storms and more rainbows forming into your life.

“You’re right. It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

When you crossed the threshold of your apartment, an awful stale smell filled your nostrils and you rushed into opening the windows to let the air flow. The plastic covers you placed over your furniture prevented the dust from forming onto their surfaces, but the amount of dirt you found lying around was too much to bear and it had to go.

You rolled up your sleeves, watered the plants, took broom and mop out of the storage room, washed the floor and dusted everything off with impeccable precision. Your muscles were now accustomed to the physical exertion, allowing you to do more in a shorter amount of time.

You dropped onto the couch, feeling mentally exhausted from the emotional outburst you had earlier. The lingering headache was pressing against your temples, which you gently rubbed with your hands in a circular motion.

Hob made you promise to be more communicative in the future, either through a text or a call every once in a while. You were still trying to figure out what triggered such an exponential reaction in the first place (after an incredibly positive and fun day at that), but you both assumed that the past couple years, along with the most recent events he knew very little about, had put a toll on you and ended up breaking the camel’s back.

You looked around, enjoying the familiarity of your home. You inspected each polished decoration, all the immaculate furnishing you meticously positioned to build the perfect den for yourself. The monthly rent was not on the cheap side, but every cent you were spending for that apartment was solidifying your independence.

The fact you couldn’t spend enough time in there anymore since you moved to your workplace was bothering you to no end.

Your eyes stopped on the bookshelf, filled to the brink with books of different genres. One volume in particular immediatly crossed your mind, but you didn’t see it while dusting the library off. You bolted on your feet, scanning the titles in search of the one you were looking for. Your fingers brushed along the spines of the books as you looked high and low, only to consolidate the fact that it seemed to have vanished.

You thought back to the last time you had seen it. You took all your favorite books with you when you left your father’s house, but you couldn’t remember seeing that one at all when you opened the boxes to unpack. Since you most definitely didn’t put it anywhere else, you concluded that it probably never left your old place, so now you had more than one reason to visit your father again on your next day off.

You gobbled down the disappointment and returned to the couch, using your coat as a blanket to cover up your legs. In the deep, deafening silence of your apartment, the faint sounds of the city outside seemed to be intensified. You could hear the cars honking, music playing in the background, people talking and laughing in the street and the occasional bark of a dog. It was like an orchestra with no conductor and it made you feel a little less alone.

The city was a tapestry of lights, of people and places, of stories and dreams.

Dream…

You could almost feel the energy radiating out of the town, a sort of magnetic draw that pulled you in, as if you were part of something grand and extraordinary.

Dream.

You loved to bury yourself in nature, but you could not deny that the magic of the city was equally extraordinary. As someone who grew up in London, it was hard for you to imagine a life somewhere else. Although you didn’t want to bite the hand that was feeding you, the more time passed, the harder it was to live secluded in Ashdown Forest.

But Dream…

Yes, Dream. The one who occupied the majority of your thoughts now. If you said that you weren’t attracted to him you would be in denial and shirking away from the reality of things would only bring you to a standstill. You were determined to ignore it, to push it away and pretend it wasn’t there. You’d been telling yourself that it was all in your head, that you didn’t feel the spark when he was near, that your heart didn’t beat a little faster, like it was doing now, whenever his face appeared into your mind.

You didn’t know what he effectively did when your hands indirectly touched through the glass. He used his power to relieve you from the coldness, but you felt him delving into your deepest thoughts and fears. His eyes looked past your physical form and into your innermost being, you felt his energy flowing through you as your worries faded away and you felt cared for. He didn’t speak, but his presence alone was louder than words. That touch was a connection that went beyond any explanation, it gave you a sense of peace and belonging you never experienced with any of the men you dated.

From a realistic and objective point of view, the feelings you had for Dream weren’t safe for your heart in the long run, but your inner voice wanted you to pursue with them, to explore them and let them flourish.

You closed your eyes. His perfect, beautiful face was the last thing you saw before succumbing to your weariness.

The air around you was eerie as you awoke on a cold floor. You were surrounded by rubble and scattered pieces of colorful glass, in what looked like a destroyed Cathedral room. You stood up on your feet, but you struggled to keep your balance with your legs feeling weak and unsteady. Your mind was fuzzy, all you felt was confusion and disorientation in a place you did not recognize.

The room was a strange mix of gothic and ancient elements. Stone pillars rose up from the large tiles and they were crowned with Greek busts that seemed to look at each other with deep contemplation. A long and curved staircase, only partially broken in places, led up to an empty throne. It was a seat of power remained vacant over a scene of destruction.

The stained glass windows behind it were in a state of disrepair, but the light streaming in through them (or coming from them, you weren’t sure) was so bright it was almost blinding. The colors that remained were casting their deep blue, vibrant green and fiery orange over the surrounding devastation.

The ceiling was completely missing and the sky above was unlike anything you had seen before. It was dark, almost inky and full of blinking stars. A red nebula was crossing that infinite black expanse, dancing in its own cosmic rythm. When you took a step back to admire its galactic beauty, something cracked loudly under your foot. You looked down, noticing a triangular piece of blue stained glass next to a smaller fragment that you had just accidentally pulverized with your boot. You knelt down to take the fragile chunk in your hand, it was oddly warm to the touch and you saw your face reflected on the smooth material as you turned it over. For a second, you bizarrely saw someone else flashing in it, glowing eyes appearing in place of your original iris hue and going back to normal.

“Who are you?”

Suddenly, you heard a gentle, yet startled voice speaking behind you. You nervously turned to its source with your fingers tightened around the fabric of your shirt, jolting up so fast that you almost fell backward.

A brown-skinned woman with a shaved head and pointy ears was staring at you with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. She had a pair of round glasses perched on her nose and she was wearing an elegant black suit that made her look like a cultured librarian. She wasn’t threatening at all, but she seemed cautious and kept a certain distance from where you were standing.

She was clearly waiting for an answer, but your mind was still hazy and it took you a moment to even remember your name. So you racked your brain, drawing it from the depths of your memory. “I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/LN.”

She tilted her head slightly, her expression softened as she studied you intently from head to toe. “Do you know where you are?”

You thought about it, taking another look at the disheartening wreckage. The world around you was unfamiliar. “No. And I don’t know how I got here, either.”

The woman steeled her nerves and took a step foward, her hands moved from behind her back and crossed to her front. “You are a dreamer.”

Your eyes were drawn to the galaxy above, each star seemed to held a story of its own. “I never dream though.”

“You’re here now, are you not?”

Her voice was soothing, echoing in the vastness of the room.

“Define ‘here’.”

Her lips twisted into a half-smile. “The Dreaming. This is Lord Morpheus’s castle, or rather, what remains of it.”

She gestured to the ruined structure in front of you, the walls crumbled as you heard a distant crunching sound.

“The Dreaming… Lord Morpheus…”

The more you searched for any clue, any piece of information that could help you understand, the more questions you found instead. “I don’t understand… what happened to this place?”

The woman lowered her eyes with a deep sense of distress. She breathed in deeply, her chest rising and falling as she adjusted her glasses. “Lord Morpheus left many years ago. Without him, The Dreaming has started to decay and it continued deteriorating ever since. Even the Waking World is suffering from this change, in a way.”

There were pieces of the palace everywhere you looked, as if the aftermath of a war had been spread across the entire floor. There was no deniying the darkness of it all, yet you could still see the beauty in it. The colorful lights emitted by the windows made your heart swell with hope and even in the chaos you could sense the energy that had been left behind.

“I suppose it cannot be fixed in any way?”

She shook her head. “Without Lord Morpheus, The Dreaming is beyond repair.”

“Will he return?”

“I know he will.”

You carefully placed the glass piece you were still holding back on the ground. “I still don’t know why I’m here…”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Neither do I. I did not expect to see a dreamer here. Especially not in the palace… and not in the throne room.”

You stayed silent, listening to the far thunders and collapsing noises. Her dark brown eyes shone with kindness and knowledge, giving you a feeling of peace.

And then, everything began to fade, darkening and disappearing. The woman’s features became unclear as she got shrouded in a thin layer of mist, you could barely make out the shape of her lips, moving as she spoke to you. “You are waking up.”

The urge of closing your eyes and let yourself go into the forming void was traveling along your body, but you resisted it. “Wait!” You exclaimed. “I don’t know your name!”

You looked for something to hold on to, as The Dreaming was literally capsizing now. You felt her warm hand grasping yours to hold you there for a moment longer, your head was getting heavy and you couldn’t stand properly anymore.

“It’s Lucienne,” she replied. “Perhaps one day I could show you my library, I am sure you will love it.”

“Lucienne… will I remember you? And this?”

You were now suspended between two different dimensions, the sounds of the city outside your windows was mingling with the echo of her voice. “You may. Or, you may not. Until we meet again.”

You tried to respond, but you no longer felt her touch and the black abyss enveloped you in its nothingness.

Your eyes snapped open and your heart raced as you franctically took your phone from your pocket. You groaned seeing the time, massaging your aching neck and shivering for the cold air of the evening, the sun now completely set.

“Did I just doze off? That’s new.”

You grabbed your coat, took one last look around to make sure that everything was in place and closed the windows, muffling the sounds of the outside world.

You heard the click of the door lock while twisting the key, feeling a pang of sadnass for leaving your home behind yet again. Your comfortable couch, the city skyline that you enjoyed admiring from the living room, the small balcony you had spent so much time sprucing up, the bathtub in which you could relax in in a sea of foam and then your bedroom, transformed into your own personal studio for your creative works.

There was only one thing you were looking forward to: Dream. You wanted to see him; his eyes, his face, his beauty and his comforting energy.

Stepping out of your apartment building, you looked up and down the street. The taxi was already on its way, lights flashing in the darkness and illuminating the empty road. When it halted, the driver opened the back-door and you got in, giving him the address for Wych Cross and letting him take off again.

You glanced out the window, watching a few stars twinkling dimly through the forming clouds in the sky. You took in the sights, the streetlights casting a soft glow on the buildings and the people who hurried along the sidewalks.

An odd feeling was tugging at your heart and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was an unexplicable sensation, like you had lost something important and yet you didn’t know what it was.

You had no memory of Lucienne, The Dreaming or the crumbling palace you had seen in your dream - a dream you didn’t know you had.

Thank you for your patience and my apologies for the delay. I struggled a bit with this one because I wanted it to sound just right and I also took some time to do some more research (plus working and irl stuff keeping busy).

For more notes and info, go check the final notes on AO3!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 4 ->

[dreamlandreader]

Mythology, Folklore and Behind the Scenes Fact File

Welcome to the fact file for Foolish Fire, a place where you can find more information on the background of the inspirations behind my Secret Santa gift for the amazing @popjunkie42-blog 💖

All of the inspiration I have taken from myths and folktales have been adapted to the story I am trying to tell, but where I have made creative adjustments, I will try to point out the changes below.

Erebus Forest In Greek mythology, Erebus is the personification of darkness. Some Ancient Greek authors also use Erebus to describe the particular form of gloom found in the Underworld. The concept of Erebus is most famously mentioned in Homer's Iliad, in which Erebus is the physical location that Hercules must venture into to collect the three-headed dog Cerberus. This mythology inspired the name of the forest in Foolish Fire due to the importance of how dark this particular forest gets and the impact this has within this story.

Will-o'-the-wisps These little creatures are tricky beings found in numerous forms in various European folktales. Traditionally known for mimicking the flickering light of a lantern, will-o'-the-wisps use their light to deceive weary travellers into getting lost.

Within this story, I decided to make it so that the will-o'-the-wisps are utilised by other creatures in the forest to capture prey and have a particular ability to cause a dreamlike trance in their victims. The title for this fic comes from the Latin translation for Will-o’-the-Wisp (ignis fatuus), which directly translates to foolish fire in English.

Belisama Lake The lake Feyre finds herself wading into during Foolish Fire is called Belisama Lake, a name inspired by the Celtic Goddess of lakes and fire, whose name, it has been reported, translates to ‘Most Mighty One’. During the Roman period, the river currently known as Ribble River, which runs through the North of England, was referred to as the Belisama in honour of the Goddess.

The Monster in the Lake The creature Feyre encounters in the waters of the Erebus forest was inspired by a mixture of one very famous creature from Scottish folklore, and an aquatic beast from approximately 240 million years ago.

The Loch Ness Monster The concept of creatures lurking beneath the surface in large bodies of water was not new in 1933 when the Loch Ness Monster was first brought to light on a global scale, however, Nessie is perhaps the most famous of all mythological lake monsters. Nestled in the Scottish Highlands, Loch Ness attracts vast numbers of tourists every year, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famed creature who is said to reside there.

The Nothosaurus Whilst the inspiration to add an underwater challenge to Foolish Fire came from the legend of Loch Ness, the real-life inspiration for the creature itself comes from a long extinct semi-oceanic reptile, who at 14 metres in length, dominated waters in the Triassic Period. The Nothosaurus was a carnivorous animal with needle-like teeth and a thick tail that acted as a paddle to steer it through the water.

The Empusa This shape-shifting female, with one copper leg (and sometimes a donkey’s leg, too), is commanded by Hecate in Greek mythology and uses her abilities to seduce and feed on young men. For this reason, she was compared to a vampire in the ‘Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology’ by William Smith (1849).

In Foolish Fire, the Empusa roams the woodlands of Pythian and is one of the most wanted creatures by all seven High Lords for the numerous violent deaths she causes yearly.

The Waterfall The waterfall Rhys and Feyre stumble upon in chapter three is inspired by Plitvice Lakes National Park and the stunning waterfalls that are found there.

The glowing element of the waterfall is inspired by the natural beauty of bioluminescent waters like those found in many locations such as New Zealand, Cambodia and the Maldives.

The Red Shoes The Red Shoes is a Danish fairytale, written by Hans Christian Anderson in the mid-1800's. It has been adapted numerous times, perhaps most famously in 1948 in a film adaptation by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. The tale also inspired singer-songwriter Kate Bush's seventh studio album of the same name.

The Cyclops Over the years there were many interpretations of cyclops in Greek mythology, famously however, three talented cyclopes named Arges, Steropes, and Brontes, help to craft Zeus's thunderbolt. With their distinct single eye in the centre of their heads, cyclopes are incredibly recognisable characters, even in the modern age.

Cerberus Hades three-headed dog Cerberus is the famed creature who guards the gates to the Underworld. His three heads and serpents tails makes him an incredibly terrifying creature in Greek mythology, but in Foolish Fire a baby Cerberus is the sweetest of all little pups and makes the perfect addition to Feyre and Rhysand's perfect little family.

Click here to find to the series masterlist

[kamreadsandrecs]

Title: The Bright Sword

Author: Lev Grossman

Genre/s: mythology and folklore, historical

Content/Trigger Warning/s: mentions of rape; depictions of physical and emotional abuse of children and adults; depictions of the brutality of medieval battles and their after-effects; depictions of nearly drowning and being buried alive

Summary (from author's website): A gifted young knight named Collum arrives at Camelot to compete for a spot on the Round Table, only to find that he’s too late. King Arthur is dead, and only a handful of the knights of the Round Table survive.

They aren’t the heroes of legend, like Lancelot or Gawain. They’re the oddballs of the Round Table, from the edges of the stories, like Sir Palomides, the Saracen Knight, and Sir Dagonet, Arthur’s fool, who was knighted as a joke. They’re joined by Nimue, who was Merlin’s apprentice until she buried him under a hill.

Together this ragtag fellowship will set out to rebuild Camelot in a world that has lost its balance, even as the fairies and old gods are returning, led by Arthur’s half-sister Morgan le Fay, and rival factions are forming around the disgraced Lancelot and the fallen Queen Guinevere. It is up to Collum and his companions to reclaim Excalibur, solve the mysteries of this ruined world and make it whole again. But first they’ll have to learn the truth of why the lonely, brilliant King Arthur fell.

The first major Arthurian epic of the new millennium, The Bright Sword is steeped in tradition, full of duels and quests, battles and tournaments, magic swords and Fisher Kings. It’s a story about imperfect men and women, full of strength and pain, who are looking for a way to reforge a broken land in spite of being broken themselves.

Buy Here: https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-bright-sword-a-novel-of-king-arthur-lev-grossman/20856403

Spoiler-Free Review: This is a heartbreaker of a book and make no mistake, but also a GEM of a book in its own right. There is both light and dark contained herein, and it all comes together to make something absolutely beautiful, and absolutely bittersweet.

So, first things first: you do not need to be completely familiar with the Arthurian Cycle to understand this story. As long as one knows the broad strokes of the story about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round, the reader will have no problems keeping up.

What DOES matter when reading this book, though, is picking up the themes that Grossman lays down in throughout the novel. There’s quite a few one could pick up, but after some back-and-form with a close friend via messages, I’ve concluded, as she did, that the main theme is that of cycles: of old to new and back again, of faith, and of people. The groundwork for this is laid in the novel’s first chapters, when the protagonist, Collum, observes how successive waves of occupants changed and shaped the landscape of Britain, each one leaving their mark on the land and its inhabitants. He also brings up the concept of a “golden age”: notably, he observes that “golden ages” all come to an end. That bit’s important because, as the reader knows (but Collum doesn’t), King Arthur is already dead.

Tied into that theme is the conflict between Christianity and the pagan faiths of Britain. This is a theme that’s frequently been picked up in other adaptations of the Arthurian cycle, but oftentimes, in those adaptations, one is held up as better than the other. In this novel, though, it’s made pretty clear that returning to the old ways is neither better nor worse than accepting Christianity - mostly because, in the end, it all depends on the people running the show. After all, terrible things have been done in the name of God, just as there have been good things done in the name of the old gods.

Speaking of people running the show, this book also offers a lovely and incredibly human portrait of Arthur himself. I know that this is something a lot of other books, movies, and even TV shows have attempted to do, but this novel’s take on Arthur is such an excellent balance between a legendary hero and a flawed human being. He’s a genuinely good person, and wants the best for the people around him and for his country, and he works HARD to make that so, but he is still human, and therefore is prone to doubts and mistakes. This is King Arthur with impostor syndrome, and it makes him a wonderful character to read about.

While Arthur is certainly important in this novel, the other characters are definitely just as important, if not more so. After all, it is through their eyes that the reader comes to understand Camelot and Arthur himself, and it is through their actions that the fate of Britain is decided. And, just like Arthur, they are all wonderfully, poignantly human while also being pretty damn heroic, especially since most of them have faced rather tough odds before and during their tenure as Knights of the Round Table.

Which leads into the second important theme of this novel, which is another thing my good friend and I circled back to repeatedly over messages: breaking cycles is vitally important for moving forward. This is showcased most prominently in the novel’s overall plot, which follows the protagonist Collum has he helps determine Britain’s future, but it’s also present in the story arcs of the other characters - including the antagonists. Like Collum, they are all caught up in a cycle, whether that is their internal struggle with their gender or sexuality; finding their place in the world at large; or a history of abuse. And to be able to move forward, to avoid getting stuck in a rut, they have to break that cycle and move forward - or find themselves doing more harm than good. It’s difficult to illustrate this well without going into some very big spoilers, but suffice to say that this is a very important theme and plays into this novel’s climax.

Because that’s another thing that the novel focuses on and spends a lot of time trying to get across: all golden ages must one day come to an end, and everyone must move on and keep on living. Time and time again the novel talks about how the age of miracles has ended, and how Britain’s inhabitants must deal with the aftermath. What does one do when one must live in the shadow of a golden age, watching the world move on and slowly forgetting the greatness that once lived in it? What does it mean to have lived through a time when it seemed like all things good and great were possible, only to come to the end of that time with nothing ahead but something lesser? That part really got to me, because we all hope that things will get better in our lifetimes, and we all try to do SOMETHING to make things better while we’re still alive, but what if the chance to do so has long since passed? What’s the point of struggling? What’s the point of living?

And this book says: that’s it - living is the point. One lives, and keeps on going, changing as one needs to, because to give up is to choose stasis, and that just doesn’t work out well for oneself or for anyone. Change is never painless, of course, and it can be sad and terrible and dark, but it is necessary regardless. But what we can do is choose HOW we rise to change, HOW we move with it. We cannot stop change, or make it happen faster, but we CAN choose how we act when it arrives.

Overall this is a beautiful, wonderful book: an interesting take on the Arthurian cycle that is familiar with its origins, but still manages to put a new spin on the legends instead of retelling them. There is a bittersweetness to this novel that will resonate with a lot of readers, and will likely leave them thinking about the story long after they’ve put the book down.

Rating: five grails

[itsthenovelteafactor]

TV Shows Roundup: Jan - June

AKA every show I watched in the first half of 2024. I’ve been wanted to keep better track of my own viewing habits and thought it’d be fun to keep a running list with mini reviews. might do a tier list at the end of the year if I end up having enough. Curious what y’all have been watching/if you have any recommendations!

about 12 shows here which sounds like a lot but in my defense, there are a lot with one one season (currently!! we are manifesting some renewals here)

Percy Jackson and the Olympians (season one):

Full transparency: I was not watching this show. 12 year old me who was obsessed with Percy Jackson, knew who her godly parent would be, and acted out sword fights with her siblings, was watching this show. She has no complaints. School Spirits (season one):

As soon as I heard the premise of this show I was on board, but it ended up delivering even more than I expected. The mystery was interesting and I felt like I received information at the exact right pace, the ghosts made a very charming undead-breakfast club and the characters in general were very compelling. Whoever put that Phoebe Bridgers song at the end of episode 1 deserves and Emmy and I’m not kidding. Loki (season 2):

I’ve fallen out with the MCU as a whole, but this show brought me back for season 2. I appreciate how it stands on its own as a series with its own characters, worldbuilding, and story that doesn’t require I watch 15 movies and 2 shows to comprehend. This season leaned into the wacky scifi time trace shenanigans in a way that reminded me of Doctor Who at times. The ending made me unexpectedly emotional. The Bastard Son and the Devil Himself (season 1):

Okay, I liked the first couple episodes of this but once the main trio of Nathan, Annalise, and Gabriel were together it was *electric*. I loved how gorey and dark it wasn’t afraid to get and the characters played off each other so well. I’m devastated we won’t get to see more of these guys because despite the fast pacing of the show, you really grow to love these characters. Lockwood and Co (season one, rewatch):

Just as good the second time! Truly a masterfully done show; the worldbuilding, mysteries, and aesthetic are top notch but what sells it are the characters and their relationships to each other. There really is something incredibly comforting about this show for me, I keep coming back to Portland Row and the people who live there. The fact that we did not get to see later books in the series adapted is a tragedy.

Fleabag (seasons one and two):

This is just smartly done comedy with characters whose dysfunction manages to feel a little too familiar. I loved the shades of the stage play peeking through - there is a theatrical feel to the show overall that I love - and despite its cynicism, this show has a beating heart that occasionally hits you across the face. Basically everything they say about this one is true.

Doom Patrol (seasons three and four):

I will admit, season three (minus the DVDA) episode, felt very slow to me, but season four was an excellent return to form. It’s strange, bordering on absurdist, and flits between comedy and horror at a dizzying speed. This show is an underrated gem and truly one of a kind.

Cracow Monsters (season one):

This show is beautiful; its color scheme, setting, and camera work are immersive and feel like wandering down rainy cobblestoned streets. The story took a while to pick up, but the horror elements were very well done. I wish we’d spent a bit more time with the other students, as they all seemed like interesting characters in their own right. I loved the mythology, and folkloric inspiration.

The Artful Dodger (season one):

It’s a period drama, it’s a medical show, it’s a heist, it’s inspired by Charles Dickens. This show is utterly delightful and thoroughly engrossing. I suspected I would enjoy it from the concept alone, but there is just something completely charming about it start to finish I could not get out of my head.

Dead Boy Detectives (season one):

So…this show took over my brain. The world here is populated by dynamic and fascinating characters and the case of the week format allows for the chance to see them shine in different situations. It somehow balances the absurd, the macabre, and the heartfelt and once it finds its footing does not let up. It’s smart, eccentric, and basically candy for the kind of person who loves over analyzing the actions of fictional characters (me).

Hannibal (season 3):

Had to wait for this to come back on Amazon to finish and it did not disappoint. First half of the season was slower, but I really enjoyed the gothic castle sections. Second half was Red Dragon, which was really cool with these versions of the characters. A wholly satisfying (and appropriately morbid) conclusion to the series.

Andor (season 1)

People have been telling me to watch this and that I’d love it since it came out and they were all correct. There was so much more thought and care put into the depiction of life under an oppressive government and I expected and even if I wasn’t a Star Wars fan, the story is gripping and beautifully shot on its own. Because I *am* a Star Wars fan, it’s even better.

[artwithoutblood]

Hello! This is my first time sending an ask, so I hope I’m doing this right. I love your writing style and how you mix beauty/ art with the grotesque. The way you do body horror is so cool and fresh (if that makes sense).

I’m sorry if I ask any questions that you have already answered, and there is no pressure to answer all of my questions. I apologize for any misspellings and grammar mistakes. Also, I ramble sorry about that as well.

I’ve been following for a little while and gone through a lot of the asks and saw there were some based on music. I was wondering if you had character playlists for your characters. If you do is there a link for them?

This came to mind while I was reading an ask while listening to music, but I kind of headcanon that Genesis is into dad rock (maybe nickleback. I say this as something silly in my head) and progressive rock (like the band Genesis lol). Sorry if it is cannon and that completely went over my head (I haven’t had a chance to go through the visual novels he is in completely)

I can’t figure out though what music I can connect other characters to, like Erebus.

One song that I like for Areon is Blood Magic by I Don’t Know How But They Found Me.

Now I have two non music related questions/ headcannons. What is Adonis? Are they possibly in the realm of a fae type entity? Is it Adonis or possibly the camera they use to influence the MC in Fatal Focus?

Lastly, how do you come up with your character concepts? Do you take a lot of inspiration from religion, folklore, and mythology? I like your character concepts a lot, I find them unique.

Thank you for the hard work you put into your games, and stories!

AHHH thank you so much! That makes me so happy that you like my work! I really appreciate, and I hope I can bring some more crazy shit to y'all!

Genesis LOVES dad rock. He's the embodiment of a dad. I was inspired by my dad being a huge rock fan when I was growing up.

I have a few music playlists! I have one for Dorian, Aeron, Genesis, Erebus, Kayn, and Lenore so far! I'm a little Elitist (joke) with my music playlists. I try to have them both sound like and have lyrics matching the characters. I love IDKHOW, I think I had a song by them on a previous iteration of Aeron's playlist.

Adonis is something like a fae! They have a combination of using their general fae influence over other individuals (and the town, both in the nature and in the people) and through the camera. It's like having miasma of spray paint in the air versus being sprayed in your face.

I get my character inspiration from a few places: usually music, things I already like, fucked up dreams I have. I try to think across disciplines and bring it altogether. Books, movies, games, bring 'em together for something new.

[yeah-another-aesthetic-blog]

Nana as a Kumiho Aesthetic

A kumiho or gumiho (Korean: 구미호; Hanja: 九尾狐, literally "nine-tailed fox") is a creature that appears in the folktales on East Asia and legends of Korea. It is similar to the Chinese huli jing, the Japanese kitsune and the Vietnamese hồ ly tinh. It can freely transform into a beautiful woman often set out to seduce men, and eat their liver or heart (depending on the legend). There are numerous tales in which the kumiho appears, several of which can be found in the encyclopedic Compendium of Korean Oral Literature (한국 구비문학 대계/韓國口碑文學). Kumiho and other versions of the nine-tailed fox myths and folklores share a similar concept. All explain fox spirits as being the result of great longevity or the accumulation of energy, said to be foxes who have lived for a thousand years, and give them the power of shapeshifting, usually appearing in the guise of a woman. However, while China's huli jing and Japan's kitsune are often depicted as either good, evil or neutral, the kumiho is almost always treated as a malignant figure who feasts on human flesh. It is unclear at which point in time Koreans began viewing the kumiho as a purely evil creature, since many ancient texts mention the benevolent kumiho assisting humans (and even make mentions of wicked humans tricking kind but naïve kumiho). In later literature, kumiho were often depicted as bloodthirsty half-fox, half-human creatures that wandered cemeteries at night, digging human hearts out from graves. The fairy tale The Fox Sister depicts a fox spirit preying on a family for their livers. The most distinctive feature that separates the kumiho from its two counterparts (Japanese kitsune, and Chinese huli jing) is the existence of a 'yeowoo guseul' (여우구슬, literally meaning fox marble/bead) which is said to consist of knowledge. According to Korean mythology, the yeowoo guseul provides power to the kumiho and knowledge (and intelligence) to people if they can steal and swallow one. The kumiho can absorb humans' energy with it. The method of absorbing energy with the "yeowoo guseul" resembles a "deep kiss" (i.e. a kiss using a tongue). The kumiho sends the yeowoo guseul into people's mouths and then retakes it with their tongues. If that person swallows the yeowoo guseul, however, and then observes "sky, land, and people", each observation gives the observer preternatural knowledge. But the person fails to watch the "sky" in most tales, so they get a special ability but not the most important one.

[sicmvndvscreatvsest]

BASICS

FULL NAME: SEON HAE [ 선해 ]

OTHER NAMES: AKIRA, AKIRA HAE, SEON HAE [ 아키라  in Korean, あきら in Hiragana, アキラ in Katakana, and 明 in Kanji. 선해.]

» MEANING: Seon [ As a family name, Seon may be written with either of two hanja, one meaning "to announce" (宣) and the other meaning "first" (先). Each has one bon-gwan: for the former, Boseong, Jeollanam-do, and for the latter, Jinseong, Jinju, Gyeongsangnam-do, both in what is today South Korea.. ]; Hae [ Hae in Korean means 'sun.' The Chinese character behind "Hae" (해) in Korean names, meaning "sun", is 海 (hǎi) in Mandarin Chinese and 해 (hae) in Korean Hanja. It is a combination of the characters for "sea" (海) and "sun" (日), and can be interpreted as "ocean sun" or "sun over the ocean". ]; Akira [ Akira (あきら, アキラ) is a given name present in a few languages. It is a unisex Japanese given name that is predominantly used for males. There are several kanji for Akira. In Thai, Akira or Arkira (Thai: อาคิรา, อาคีรา, อาคีระ) is a unisex name meaning 'the sun' or 'sunlight'. In Japanese there are many alternative ways to write the name Akira in kanji. This is not an exhaustive list. A popular kanji is 明 (the combination of the two different characters 日 = sun and 月 = moon) which means "the light coming from the sun", "sunlight and moonlight", "bright", "intelligent", "wisdom" or "truth". Though Akira is generally used to name males, sometimes it can be a female name as well.]

NICKNAME: Sunny, Aki.

AGE: Nearly 300-years old; 28 in appearance.

DATE OF BIRTH: 13th November, 18th century South Korea.

PLACE OF BIRTH: Kumiho realm, in fall.

OCCUPATION: Bodyguard to a powerful and rich vampire businessman.... Akira trained with her friend Seung-yong.

RELIGION: N/A

ORIENTATION: Homosexual; Homoromantic.

GENDER: Cisgender Female.

SPECIES: Kumiho

A kumiho or gumiho (Korean: 구미호; Hanja: 九尾狐, literally "nine-tailed fox") is a creature that appears in the folktales on East Asia and legends of Korea. It is similar to the Chinese huli jing, the Japanese kitsune and the Vietnamese hồ ly tinh. It can freely transform into a beautiful woman often set out to seduce men, and eat their liver or heart (depending on the legend). There are numerous tales in which the kumiho appears, several of which can be found in the encyclopedic Compendium of Korean Oral Literature (한국 구비문학 대계/韓國口碑文學).

Mythology

The old Chinese text Classic of Mountains and Seas, the earliest record to document the nine-tailed fox, mentioned that the fox with nine tails came from and lived in the country called Qingqiu (靑丘) three hundreds miles east, the term meaning "green hill" interpreted as the country or region of the east and was later historically used to refer to the region of Korea at least since the era during the Three Kingdoms of Korea. However, the name of Gojoseon (called Joseon in the record), the Korean kingdom that existed along with other minor states of the Korean peninsula at the time, was separately introduced in the same record. Kumiho and other versions of the nine-tailed fox myths and folklores share a similar concept. All explain fox spirits as being the result of great longevity or the accumulation of energy, said to be foxes who have lived for a thousand years, and give them the power of shapeshifting, usually appearing in the guise of a woman. However, while China's huli jing and Japan's kitsune are often depicted as either good, evil or neutral, the kumiho is almost always treated as a malignant figure who feasts on human flesh. It is unclear at which point in time Koreans began viewing the kumiho as a purely evil creature, since many ancient texts mention the benevolent kumiho assisting humans (and even make mentions of wicked humans tricking kind but naïve kumiho). In later literature, kumiho were often depicted as bloodthirsty half-fox, half-human creatures that wandered cemeteries at night, digging human hearts out from graves. The fairy tale The Fox Sister depicts a fox spirit preying on a family for their livers.

Knowledge beads

The most distinctive feature that separates the kumiho from its two counterparts (Japanese kitsune, and Chinese huli jing) is the existence of a 'yeowoo guseul' (여우구슬, literally meaning fox marble/bead) which is said to consist of knowledge. According to Korean mythology, the yeowoo guseul provides power to the kumiho and knowledge (and intelligence) to people if they can steal and swallow one. The kumiho can absorb humans' energy with it. The method of absorbing energy with the "yeowoo guseul" resembles a "deep kiss" (i.e. a kiss using a tongue). The kumiho sends the yeowoo guseul into people's mouths and then retakes it with their tongues. If that person swallows the yeowoo guseul, however, and then observes "sky, land, and people", each observation gives the observer preternatural knowledge. But the person fails to watch the "sky" in most tales, so they get a special ability but not the most important one.

Powers

Most legends state that while a gumiho was capable of changing its appearance, there is still something persistently fox-like about it (i.e. a foxy face, a set of ears, or the tell-tale nine tails) or a magical way of forcing; its countenance changes, but its nature does not. Although ancient legends indicated that kumiho could help humans, in modern times, these animals are known to eat human livers and hearts. They usually carry out their evil acts by tricking people into consuming their organs. Unlike Japanese kitsunes, which are portrayed as having multiple tails and magical abilities, kumiho is a nine-tailed creature all throughout their lives. According to Korean mythology, if a kumiho doesn’t eat human flesh for a thousand years, it might transform into a human. This is because the animal’s soul can still seek human flesh.

**Akira is deemed to be very strong even at a young age as a kumiho. She fights well because of her extensive training and has the ability to use her kumiho powers of bending and stopping time, appearing and disappearing, etc. Although sometimes, she can be impulsive. Akira is trained in taekwondo, sword fight, and other forms of martial arts. She also boxes often with Seungyong.

PERSONALITY

STRENGTHS: Powerful, Brave, Loyal, Passionate, Resourceful.

WEAKNESSES: Distrusting, Violent, Stubborn, Manipulative, Jealous.

APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Han So-hee.

HEIGHT: 5'5 [165 cm.]

WEIGHT: 105 lbs. [48 kg.]

BUILD: Lean.

GAIT: TBA

HAIR COLOR: Reddish.

EYE COLOR: Amber in kumiho form; she likes wearing contact lenses for the colors.

BIRTHMARK: Yes.

OVERVIEW: » SCARS: Yes. » TATTOOS: Hell yeeees!

BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: Spirit world; kumiho world.

RESIDENCES: Spirit world; Seoul, South Korea. She has a home in Japan, too.

NATIONALITY: Well, South Korean.

ETHNICITY: Asian.

FINANCIAL STATUS: Upper-class, she is also mad rich.

EDUCATION LEVEL: Akira took many courses coz she gets bored easily, she probably finished some of them or almost finish some of them.

DEGREES: Something...

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Korean, Japanese, other Asian languages, she's been learning Thai but she sounds awful. English and Hebrew... She said she likes the way it sounds so she just picked it up. Then she got into Arabic, too. She's a mess.

RELATIONSHIPS

PARENTS: Kumiho gods/spirits. They're alive and well and just want Akira to settle down. Never happening, she said.

SIBLINGS: Lots....

CHILDREN: None.

PETS: She's got a pet dragon, but not really coz this 'pet' is a FULL GROWN dragon. More like bffs.

SIGNIFICANT RELATIONSHIPS: » Dragon bff.

FAMILY HISTORY: Akira is a mischief and lazy and her parents prayed to the kumiho gods and guardians to help them straighten her. A kumiho have nine tails all throughout their lives but the gods decided that Akira will be working for hers. She was to earn a tail for each 100 year she lives and make her parents proud. Later on, Akira met Seung-yong, a human who bonded with a dying dragon's ball and earned its powers. She became very close to the young witch/dragon and trained with him as a soldier/fighter. Seungyong became a bodyguard which interested Akira but her parents didn't think it was a suitable job for her. Akira pursued different careers then and witnessed how her kind were treated and taken advantage of by humans. When a childhood acquaintance got into a mess caused by a human, Akira became vindictive and haunted humans who has a dark heart and feasted on them.

Her parents didn't want her getting in trouble so they allowed her to finally train with Seungyong and pursue a career that would keep her focus. She has been working as a body guard for various entities and the latest was for a rich vampire who is living among the humans.

Seungyong wanted to investigate this vampire who has been connected with some known murders in other realms. Akira is helping his friend by sticking with the vampire and collecting info for her bounty hunter friend.

Akira travels everywhere due to the nature of her job.

ROMANTIC HISTORY: Messy. She had a lover that she had a roller-coaster relationship with. Akira can get overwhelming and many times, this reincarnated lover/partner, left her.

PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS: Dragon bff, Seung-yong.

THOUGHTS ON LOVE: "It's messy."

HEALTH

PHOBIA(S): None.

HANDICAP(S): None.

MENTAL DISORDER: None.

PHYSICAL DISEASE(S): None.

PREDISPOSITION(S): N/A.