i have this recurring dream

[faelyn]

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xx

i have this recurring dream. i
have this recurring dream. i h
ave this recurring dream. i ha
ve this recurring dream. i hav
e this recurring dream. i have
this recurring dream. i have t

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𝐲𝐨𝐮
𝐲𝐨𝐮
𝐲𝐨𝐮

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└────┘
─ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦 ─

─────────── 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 ───────────

his recurring dream. i have this recur
ring dream. i have this reccuring drea
m. i have this recurring dream. i have

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𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭

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── 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

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𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥
𝐲𝐨𝐮
𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞

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──── 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 ────

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[faelyn]

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xxxxxxxx𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐀

there are tales of the orla. there are tales of axxxxxx
sea monster so heartless and wicked, it tore op
en the very fibers of the world and fallen throu
gh time and space. a sea monster whose touch
is so vile, it drained the life from everything it
touches.

but once upon a time, the heartless monster lov
ed. it loved. and loved. and loved.
until it did not… for in a terrible twist of fate, t
he orla murdered its lover and began on a millen
nia long bloodbath in its state of madness
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[faelyn]

i had this recurring dream.
it was where i writhed within sea brine that tastes of foxglove and oleander. where the crescent moon rioted, the sun raged and the stars revolted, their stardust anatomies disintegrating into the spendor of nothingness.

i had this recurring dream. and its of the orla.
there is a seasick pallor upon its features, each sickened indigo shade unfurling as if it were an astral cosmos being breathed into existence. salted scales of terracotta and inkdrop black roam its emaciated frame, stained burgandy from dried blood and carcasses strung upon moonbeam walls from souls that once were.

i had this recurring dream.
i could still taste reddened merlot that tastes of iron instead of wine. i could still taste it as the orla draped the sea with shades of scarlet and carmine. and i watched it as it did. as it ripped my body until its unrecognizable. as it strung me upon walls of moonbeam. as i became a soul that once was.

the worst part is… i laughed when it does so.
i laughed. and i laughed. and i laughed.

[faelyn]

~maragret lana del rey

i’ve never fallen in love before. it is the thing scrawled upon love letters and tiny hearts sketched upon an accumulation of dust upon windowsills— because time had simply slipped away in a lusting, lavender haze.

i’ve never fallen in love before.

but i do know what it’s like to be in love with you.
i bleed sequences of starry cosmos’ and implode with the kiss of fleeting supernovas, each astral mosaic thrumming through the cornflower blue of my veins. i bleed because before you, my whole existence was misaligned, like if the milky way became caught in the heartstrings of saturn. like if the moon had morphed into an turtledove and pirouetted away from its focal point.

but if it were all true… tell me, darling---
tell me why your hands are around my throat.
tell me why my blood is on the floor.

[faelyn]

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xxxxxxxx𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐀

there are not many who know the face of the oxxxxxx
rla.
many who do see it end up dead or marked.

marked souls show symptoms that include: a red
-brown film on eyes, amnesia, discoloration on t
he body (common colors being pink, orange and
purple), heightened strength capabilities and te
ndencies for aggression.

marked ones have no recollection of their past m
emories and have no sense of self. they have one
goal and one goal only: to lure others to the orla.
although some have managed to resist the orla’s
influence, it is never for long.
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[faelyn]

elvie
elvie
elvie
elvie

i said your name like a poem soon to be forgotten. i said your name as if it were seafoam disintegrating into salt at my touch. i said your name as if it could paint the bluest skies the darkest grey. i said your name as if it could breathe my heart back to life when really---you are the one threatening it.

“elvie! stop.. stop--” my voice was a broken, useless thing. “y-you’re hurting me.”

the only response you gave was the tightening of your deadly grasp around my throat.
the honeycomb brown of your irises were vacant, lush with an unnatural rosewood haze and empty of even the slightest, scintillating glimmer of your usual sarcasm.

something was wrong.
“elvie… elvie, what’s wrong?” i was pleading now. for your touch drew constellations of saltspray and liquid rose upon my neck. “please… help me help you.”

it was only then when i saw it.
salted scales of terracotta and inkdrop black cling to your marigold curls, tangled with bits of mahogany and decay— decay that smells of foxglove and oleander rather than death. lesions of hibiscus pink, tangerine and lavender adorn your skin and it swells to the nuance of my beating heart.

the orla
the orla
...gods—no. you’ve been… marked.

“elvie…” i gasp, my words barely tangible. “you have to listen to me. fight it. you have to fight--”
your touch tightened around my neck.

it was like the sea was swallowing me alive as my lungs convulsed.
there was a cloying salty taste upon my lips, tainted with floral notes and the tang of my own blood. the billowing blues of the sea had become flecked with inkdrop black as my reality became one of vague midnight delusions.
but it was not midnight… not at all.

“fight it, elvie--” the cupid’s bow of my lips parted.
but no words came…. for they were already replaced with seafoam and regret.

[faelyn]

i feel everything
and nothing at all.

but most of all, i feel you.
and your hand around mine.

and it is enough.

[faelyn]

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xxxxxxxx𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐀

marked souls show symptoms that include: a redxxxxxx
once someone is marked by the orla, the orla’s m
agic burns bright in their veins and will eventually
consume a marked soul’s body, leading to immine
nt doom.

there is no cure. not unless you steal the source
of the orla’s magic and become the conduit to it
s power… dooming yourself in the process.

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[faelyn]

fishtail - lana del ray
“do not break my heart like this.”the songbird rasp of your voice ravishes the hush, a barely tangible thing as i turn from the delicate tilt of your face, because i simply cannot take in the heartbreak carved in the little valleys upon your features. “you cannot do this.”

i am the embodiment of disaster.
there are crescent moons the color of sangria beneath my eyes and bruises on my throat. a reminder of the sweet relief of death i had come close to sucumbbing to.
because, you, my love… are my ruination.
“i will not let you die, elvie.”

“don’t you understand, arlo? you will wither at the hands of the orla and die.” your eyes, the shade of honeycomb and carmelized sugar, widened at my words— eyes no longer tainted with rosewood film. eyes that realized what i am saying. what i am implying. “i am begging you, arlo--- do not do this for me.”


“i will do this, because i love you, elvie.” i love you with every useless fibre of my being. i want to walk and talk with you until we turn into stardust. until the jealousy overwhelms the stars and they break upon the milky way. until paradise ends and we find each other in the next life. until the world turns to ash and earth become saturn. because you are the sun and i am the moon. because i am willing to fall into you and watch myself burn. “because i would choose you in every universe. because i would find you in every single lifetime and every single world. because if you were to be whisked away by the heavens, i would twist my own neurons into stardust and join you among them.”

[faelyn]

i am icarus and you are the sun
i love you too much
too close
and that will be the death of me