#olliewrites

Dearest Lilith,

I stumbled across

Your story today.

A passing merchant

Fancied himself a hero

In a moment of idiocy.

I have given up on trying to

Warn them.

I am

What they love to hate;

Something tells me

We have this in common

- Medusa.

~~~

Darling Medusa,

Though you have heard of me,

I must confess

Your name is new to my ears.

I must disagree with your

Expressed sentiments.

We are not what they love to hate;

We are as they made us.

They turned us into these things.

If they then choose to hate what

They created,

Well, that is

Their load to bear.

(I hope I have not offended you

By insinuating you are a 'thing,'

My friend)

- Lilith

~~~

Lovely Lilith,

My, what a welcome surprise to

Receive your reply!

Do not fret about

The language use.

I may have once flinched

At being called a 'thing,'

But that time has long since passed.

I do not get the privilege of

Feeling like a human being

Anymore.

I feel the weight of the word

'Monster'

Resting on my shoulders

From the moment I wake up

To the moment I fall asleep.

I am still human in my dreams.

Some days, it feels like

That is all my humanity ever was -

A dream.

When I think back

To my life before THAT day,

I loathe the way in which

I took my existence for granted.

Oh how different the world

Looks when your life is worth nothing;

When your death is prophesied

And celebrated.

I'll be worth more in death

Than in life.

- Medusa

~~~

My friend,

How my heart aches for you.

I can make my own assumptions

And conclusions about your past

And current situation from your

Previous communication,

But I know that I

Do not have the full picture.

So please excuse me,

My friend,

As I do what more people should

In a position like mine

And not say anything at all.

Just know that

I wish the best for you,

And I do not believe you

To be a monster.

Not in your heart,

And that's where it counts.

People choose to see

What they want to see.

It seems,

For both of us,

People choose to see a villain.

Evidently,

In their eyes,

There is nothing more villainous

Than an empowered woman.

- Lilith

~~~

Adored friend,

I thank you for your sentiments.

If I did not know that

Centuries and oceans

Keep us forever apart,

I may have accused you

Of reading my thoughts.

Whilst being a villain

Is not something people aspire to,

I find it more preferable to

'Hero'

With each passing day.

I am going to die,

Lilith.

I am going to be murdered.

A 'hero' who is no more than a boy

Will be the one to slay this beast.

I am to be no more

Than a milestone

In this child's path

To heroism.

I would wonder where the dignity

In this is,

But as a villain

I am permitted none.

I do not wish this

Child's legacy

To be the only reason

I am remembered.

- Medusa

~~~

Medusa, my dear friend,

We are the legacy we leave behind.

If they will not remember us as

Heroes and humans,

Let them remember us as

Monsters and villains.

If we cannot outrun

Our fate,

Let us embrace it.

Let us be

The most monstrous.

The most villainous.

Let visions of us

Plague their dreams

And moisten their palms.

Let our names be whispered

Like a prayer or profanity.

Let us make it impossible

For them to forget that

They made us this way.

Let us give them a

A damned good reason

To remember our names.

- Lilith

In which you play Orpheus,

And you are broken-hearted and desolate.

The loss of your Eurydice for the

Second and final time

Carves your soul into

Mourning lyrics in a language

Only the bereft can decipher.

In which you stand there, frozen,

Mourning the first and only time

Turning towards your lover

Has ended in heart-break.

In which you play Orpheus,

But this time,

The Gods decide to make you

Suffer

Instead of ending you.

In which you are Orpheus and

You have just lost your Eurydice,

But also,

In which you have been granted

Immortality

Until reaching an age the Gods decide

Your existence on this plane

Without HER

Can cease.

In which you are newly-immortal,

And your immortality is certain -

And you refuse to disclose just how

You know it to be fact.

In which those pages of your book -

With the screaming and the

Crying and the

Desperate clutching,

Are stuck together never to be read aloud,

And that's how you prefer it to be.

In which you are Orpheus,

And you can't escape Her.

She whispers through the trees.

She cries desperately for you

In the thunderstorms.

The cheeky quirk of Her lip is

Reflected on other people’s faces …

And it HURTS.

By Gods,

It HURTS.

The absence in your life

And soul so profound that you

Cannot breathe.

In which you attend the group sessions,

Just like your friends suggested,

But the way in which the facilitator

Says Her name makes you

Clench your fists and

Refuse to make eye-contact with

Anyone.

This suffering is overwhelming,

But sharing it would be like

Sharing what little of Her

You have left, and -

You're not strong enough to let that go.

In which you lose control one day,

Throwing a chair across the room

When the soft-spoken woman

To your right,

Who is wearing her hair like She used to,

Speaks your name in Her timbre.

In which you become a cyclone,

A Category 5 descending on the home

You used to share,

Snatching up all of Her things and

Hurling them into a space

Never to be seen again.

Everything seems to pause as you

Come across a picture of

The two of you.

Everything gets deceivingly quiet

As the eye of Cyclone Orpheus

Overtakes you.

Your eyes dart from smiling eyes to

Lovestruck smile,

And all of a sudden,

The storm is back in action.

Smashing,

Crashing,

Banging,

Screaming,

Crying -

Your rage is

s u f f o c a t i n g

and

t e r r i f y i n g,

But FUCK

Does it feel good to cause damage,

Even though the chaos you can create

Is no match for the damage

She caused YOU, and -

...You've ripped the picture in half

And are suddenly human again,

Kneeling in the centre of your carnage

As you realise what you’ve done.

In which you quietly and reverently

Pack up the rest of Her belongings,

Vowing to actually attempt

Living

The rest of your life.

For Her if no-one else.

In which time passes and

You lose track of it;

Surviving one day becomes

Surviving two,

Then three,

And soon,

Years,

Decades - maybe even centuries -

Pass,

And it’s only after you catch yourself

Smiling as you think of the sweet

Grecian girl with the dazzling smile

You’ve bumped into a few times,

That you realise you’re not

Occupied with thoughts of

Your Eurydice.

In which you graze your shoulder as you

Scramble to where you’d left all of Her stuff

To collect dust.

Light floods the space as you scurry to

Surround yourself in Her presence again,

To prove you haven’t stopped

Thinking about Her,

That you haven’t given up on Her,

That you haven’t

f o r g o t t e n

Her.

"See? See!

I’ve still got that scarf you wore every year,

And that photo album from that one time...

And see, see?

Look at all the SHIT I have that

Proves I can’t live without you!"

You stop.

Breathe in and out deeply…

In which you play Orpheus,

And have lost your Eurydice.

In which you realise that between

Forcing yourself to be busy

So you didn’t have time to grieve,

And doing your best to live

As She would have wanted,

You had found a way to grieve.

To move on.

To live without her.

In which you no longer grieve,

But can still hear Her

Softly whispering through the trees.

You can hear Her in the thunderstorms.

You can see the cheeky quirk of Her lip

In people you’ve since befriended.

And you are okay.

The reminders bring back

Fond memories, now,

Reminding you of the time you DID

Get to spend with Her,

And the happiness you felt then

That you can recognise again now.

In which you play an immortal Orpheus who

Has lost his Eurydice,

And you realise She is gone,

But not forgotten.

BLOOD ON THE RISE (it's following me).

Chapter I -> BLOOD ON THE STREETS

————

The gang has a tradition of going on long journeys together. They’ll look for any excuse to do so; Darry has to go out of town? Pile in crew!

During big storms, cold weather, or just because they feel like it, they’ll sometimes clear the living room and lay out pillows and blankets on the floor, then all cuddle up in a big snuggle pile and fall asleep. Somebody almost always gets smushed under somebody else, but theres no hard feelings.

Say it with me now. FOREHEAD 👏 KISSES 👏 lots of them! I’m a sucked for platonic intimacy.

Dancing together. When somebody saves up enough for a record, they run straight to the Curtis house to play it, because of course that means getting to just sit there and enjoy it, or getting to dance with whoever else is feeling playful.

When he was a kid he could barely go to the movie theater at all, scraping together pennies to go see The Wizard of Oz just one more time. But he did love the movies; all the bright colors, the acting, the orchestra playing at the beginning, it was truly amazing. So of course when Bucky asked if Steve wanted to go to the drive in he said yes.

A small snippet from a klance fic I just so happen to be writing. Link to the rest is at the bottom.

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

They had had many a rough battle before. So why was this one so different? As the paladins exited their lions it felt as though a somber feeling had draped itself over the castle, but the paladins had only suffered the usual cuts, scrapes and bruises. So why was dinner silent? Did something happen? 

The plan had been simple. Rescue this planet from the Galra. Lance, Pidge and Hunk would come in as a distraction to draw fire from the innocent villagers, while Shiro would load up his lion with as many natives as he could and Kieth would get the rest to safety. Their helmets had gone out mid-mission, but they knew the plan. So Kieth did his job, and stayed away from Enemy fire as much he could while the other four lions did their job. It was a very successful mission. 

Kieth couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, and he tried to sleep but failed. He gave in and walked to the control room, only to feel a slight pang of jealousy run through his gut as he saw Lance and Allura sitting side by side, watching the stars. Kieth turned to walk away, not wanting to endure any more than he had to, when Lance whipped around. 

“Kieth? What are you doing up?”

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

Hera.

I've re-written this note countless times,

And this is the best I have so far...

I was angry at first -

An uncontrollable rage

Burned its way through my dark veins

At your betrayal.

You were meant to be my hero...

And you were

For a while;

A strong, independent queen of the gods?

The protector of women?

The deity of marriage,

Childbirth,

And fertility?

You were a strong woman

Unafraid of her femininity -

You were my idol.

My younger,

Terrified,

Gay and genderqueer self

Saw you as hope -

That one day I too would be able to

Embrace my femininity,

Despite everything that made me want to

Renounce it

Because I just didn't

'fit in.'

You sit high on that pedestal

Within Greek mythology.

O Queen of the Gods,

O Goddess and protector of women,

Of marriage,

Of childbirth,

Of family,

O how the world sits rapt at your feet...

O Hera,

Doth thine throne of lies

Adequately support such an undeserving,

Holy,

Rear?

You flaunt the title of

'Goddess of Women'

With a sparkling smile,

As a gruesome history

Of unearned punishment and torture -

Cast by you onto those you

Supposedly protect -

Is hidden away.

Out of sight, out of mind,

Right?

O Hera,

O Goddess of ...

Victim Blamers,

Tell me how much longer

You are going to play the facade

Of protector,

When you have such a contrasting history

Painting a gruesome portrait on

The wall behind you?

I will admit that Zeus

Did not treat you fairly as his bride -

Ever the inconsiderate immortal being,

He spat on the marriage you held sacred

And slept with various others

Without your consent.

Having heard the stories of Zeus and his...

Adventures...

I am horrified at his history of

Taking

T a k i n g

T A K I N G

from others -

Rarely seeking their consent -

And acknowledge that,

As his bride,

You faced an unyielding world of hurt

As he broke your trust

Time and time again.

... I do not,

However,

Pardon you for your crimes against those

You supposedly seek to protect.

Io,

Alcmena,

Semele,

Callisto -

A handful of the many innocent women

(and future children)

You tortured mercilessly

For situations in which

They emerged as victims and survivors.

Zeus may have been

The Tyrant

Of Greek mythology,

But you took the crown as

The Brute.

... I realise that my mortal words

Could not possibly impact your ethereal self.

I realise that this message is no more than

Words on a page,

But

You now have one less blind admirer,

And that has to be enough for me.

Sincerely,

Ollie

Mighty goddess,

It amazes me how quaint

You make me feel as I gaze

Upwards at you.

You turn me from an ocean

Into a most precious

Cupped-handful of water.

You make me feel small

And certain.

There's a safety in being held

That I've never truly known,

But you make me believe

I may one day find this comfort.

My seas are vast,

Yet you -

Pinprick of lunar marvel -

Cause me to gape

Open-mouthed in awe

At your brilliance.

I follow your movements

In a hypnotised enthrall

As I envision us engaged

In a cosmic dance

Far above the heavens.

[Love, Ocean]

》《》《》《》《

Tumultuous sea,

Whilst you find comfort

In stillness,

I admire your stirring passion.

The path I travel is monotonous

And routine.

When I gaze down at you,

I never know what I shall see.

This spontaneity

Ignites something dormant

Within my soul

That I had thought long gone.

Perhaps this feeling is hope,

Friendship,

Love,

Or something far deeper.

I feel the hand you hold out

For me,

Even though we are forever

Hundreds of thousands of kilometres

Apart.

I accept eagerly accept your

Request for a dance,

Regardless;

Let us waltz together into eternity.

Our perpetual journey

Around the Sun

Doesn't seem quite so lonely

Anymore.

[Love, Moon]