#echoes of yore

[ceaselessbasher]

I'm slowly drifting away from "white usamericans have no culture of their own" and towards "they do have a culture but through globalization, that culture is now seen as Default Human Behavior, and so it seems like they don't have a culture of their own."

[venterry]

all major problems in my project universe can be traced back to one of four ancient troublemakers. whenever something goes wrong and your life is ruined your likely alien suspects are

worms

bugs

slugs

mold (you never want it to be the mold but it always is)

[lady-zephyrine]

I'm not super happy with the design, but I wanted to try and come up with what I think one of the Heroes of Yore would've been. Anyway, his name is Dark Echo.

I wanted him to share a bit in common with the Dark Matter Brothers, though I wasn't sure if I should give him one eye or two. I decided that two eyes would look better. I also considered giving him a sword, but I decided to give him the Copy Ability instead. Overall, I imagine he's like a jack of all trades.

Anyway, while he shares quite a bit in common with Gooey, he also shares Blade's quiet demeanor (though that could also be because he can't talk). He was also a very curious Dark Matter, though he could sometimes come off as scatterbrained. He also had his selfish moments, which annoyed most of his colony.

Despite this, he was once one of Zero's higher-ranking scouts, but he left the colony once he stumbled upon a Dream Beast named Elfilis. Not long after that, he became friends with Galacta and Morpho. Needless to say, he disconnected himself from the rest of the colony once he became a major part of the group, much to Zero's annoyance.

He enjoyed Galacta's laid-back nature and would often join him during meals. He enjoyed Elfilis' company, as they could read Echo's mind and would communicate to him that way. And he got along with Morpho since just like Echo, it couldn't talk, so they were always happy to stop and smell the flowers together.

He was known for his undying loyalty towards his friends, as he was one of the ones who helped seal Void, but like Galacta and Elfilis, h was corrupted by Void, and at some point he attempted to destroy his own colony, he even caused one of his siblings to go blind.

He was inevitably killed by his own Zero, and his soul currently rests within the underworld. Whatever traces of his physical body that are left of him are no longer a part of him, but part of other Matters.

[serenefountain]

Calamity Archives Masterpost

A young group of Four Heroes become tasked with a grave, important quest. The universe is left in their very hands. Who would put such an undertaking upon such a small group of people? The Ancients lie in wait for them to discover and fulfill their purpose.

Genesis of a Mission

Part 0 [Diary Entry 0]

[digitalcreationsllc]

Ethyrial: Echoes of Yore hacked! 17,000 game accounts "lost"

Multi-player online role-playing videogame “Ethyrial: Echoes of Yore” has suffered a ransomware attack which saw the deletion of every player’s account and the loss of all characters. On Thursday last week, the game’s official Discord channel announced that its servers had fallen victim to a ransomware attack that had encrypted data on its systems and local backup, and demanded a cryptocurrency…

[heiressofdoodles]

Just some older paper sketches that I’ve had for a while, but will probably never get used, unfortunately. Figured they’re nice enough to put out.

[loveinhawkins]

Bit by bit, Eddie finds out that Steve Harrington has many in-jokes going on. He falls in love a little more every time he discovers a new one.

Some are self-explanatory: Robin and Steve quipping obscure ice-cream orders back and forth to refer to annoying customers of yore at Scoops Ahoy. There’s other times where Steve will whisper, “Muppet,” and Robin will crack up, and Eddie will just look on with bemused affection. But he doesn’t need to know the context to get it: to see the way their eyes sparkle with mirth, how they shake with almost silent laughter, falling against each other in a diner booth—like siblings wholly unable to keep a straight face during a family dinner.

In school, Eddie came to know in-jokes as a source of exclusion, all too aware of eye rolls in the cafeteria, snide whispers. Oh, you weren’t there, you wouldn’t get it.

This is something far different. Something precious.

He understands without needing to be told; there are stories he does not know yet, but he can read them in Steve’s voice when he laughs and calls Dustin, “Roast Beef,” when he puts on funny voices, singing along to the radio to make Max laugh, when he echoes random phrases in a conversation and Lucas snorts, and it’s so clear that everything’s come from years of knowledge, years of friendship, this rich tapestry of knowing smiles.

Eddie loves it all. Feels so goddamn lucky that he’s here to witness it, to even be the slightest part of it—wants to reach back in the past, find the Steve who’s just starting the story of a lifetime and say you will love these kids, and I will love you for it, your past, your present, your future. Steve Harrington, it’s a fucking privilege to know you.

The first time Eddie is given an in-joke of his very own, is such a tiny thing: bored out of his mind, making pleasantries with the Wheelers, and Ted makes a passing comment from his armchair about how so-and-so from down the street has bought an RV, but they don’t know a damn thing about how to drive it, let alone park it on their driveway.

Steve smirks behind his hand, catches Eddie’s eye with a fleeting wink.

Oh, Eddie thinks.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know where to start with that, Mr Wheeler,” Steve says, voice level, but Eddie can hear the secret giggle, just for him.

“Well,” Eddie says, “maybe if someone got it started for you.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, grinning. “Maybe.”

He briefly nudges Eddie in the side, a soft brush. Warm skin. Leaning into each other, sharing a secret.

Here’s something no-one else knows. It’s our little joke. Our story. Ours.

And oh, Eddie wants. He wants.

[batwynn]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

            Only this and nothing more.”

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.

    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

            This it is and nothing more.”

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

            Darkness there and nothing more.

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—

            Merely this and nothing more.

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

            ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

    Open here I flung the door, when, with many a huff and grunting,

In there stepped a stoutly walrus of the saintly days of yore;

    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

    But, with mien of lord or lady, flopped at my chamber door—

Lay upon the floor at my chamber door—

            Loaf, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this briny creature beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

“Though thy form be fat and tubular, thou,” I said, “art sure no insular,

Ghastly grim and random walrus wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

            Quoth the Walrus “Nevermore.”

    Much I marvelled this ungainly mammal to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

    Ever yet was blessed with seeing walrus at his chamber door—

Fish or beast upon the floor situated at his chamber door,

            With such name as “Nevermore.”

    But the Walrus, sitting lonely on the cold floor, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a flipper then he flapped—

    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have swam before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have swam before.”

            Then the Walrus said “Nevermore.”

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

    But the Walrus still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of creature, and floor and door;

    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous mammal of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, fat, and ominous creature of yore

            Meant in roaring “Nevermore.”

    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the beast whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

            She shall press, ah, nevermore!

    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”

            Quoth the Walrus “Nevermore.”

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if beast or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”

            Quoth the Walrus “Nevermore.”

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if beast or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

            Quoth the Walrus “Nevermore.”

    “Be that word our sign of parting, beast or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

    Leave no yellow tusk as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the floor at my door!

Take thy tusks from out my heart, and take thy form from out my door!”

            Quoth the Walrus “Nevermore.”

    And the Walrus, never flipping, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the dark and dusty stretch just before my chamber door;

    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

            Shall be lifted—nevermore!

[theweeowlart]

'The Raven' by Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;- Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"- Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice: Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore- Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;- 'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door- Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered- Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before- On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before." Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore- Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never- nevermore'."

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore- What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or devil!- Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted- On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore- Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore." Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting- "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted- nevermore!

[echantedtoon]

Promise Part 2 Oath

After spending years giving offerings to deities, and accidentally making an oath he tends to be sure you keep it.

Yeah I know. I'm still working on part 1 but my computer stupidly deleted it so I have to restart on it. In the meantime enjoy ch2 and 3 when I'm done editing Michikatsu's part

(picture relevant found on Pinterest. Kokushibo version coming soon.)

@lavenderdrxp

@thotfulwriter

@trancylovecraft

An oath is a promise.

A promise. The person's word. A verbal agreement. A contract.

Remember that what you will. Do not take lightly the things spoken as a promise for you cannot take it back for once they leave your voice. For they will seal your fate.

You jumped as a thunderclap in the distance overhead echoed throughout the sky. Your head looked up instinctively and stared at the still lit up sky and the dark grey storm clouds that scattered across it like some shattered jigsaw puzzle. The sight of it worried you making a frown appear on your perfectly make uped face. The chilly wind blowing over you making you shiver and the veil flow in the wind and over your face.

A hand reached up to push the lacey veil away from your face to give a clearer look at the looming figure in front of you.

The stories you've heard about the ancient Garden, the tales and whispers and rumors. Hone to decadence and luxury in the days of yore, now abandoned and mostly forgotten. The aura of mystery and lost inheritance tainted by misfortune and blood mixed with greedy ambition. It's shadow loomed over your form blocking most of what's left of the moonlight, casting the eerie darkness over your beautiful white dress. None of the rumors have done it justice, only instilling more creepiness to the overall visage. The whole place looked like the stereotypical image of a ghost story made. Old worm shrine. Creaking creepy metal fence. The old rock pathway leading up toit  full of cracks and had weeds growing in the crevices. This place was obviously abandoned for most of its existence. So why doesn't it look like an overgrown forest by now? Why weren't the grounds more overgrown than expected??... Must've been the caretaker. There must've been a caretaker. 

You've had many fond memories of this place growing up as a child. You remember flocking here in search of solice and peace when no ond else would give it to you. It had felt that way for many years. The garden welcomed you, almost sought you out whenever you were to come here to pray and give offering to the twin deities the garden was said to belong to. Elders always scolded you for going to the abandoned place saying that it was dangerous filled with poisonous plants and wild animals. The real superstitious ones told you that it was full of ghosts that would spirit you away from this world if you weren't careful. You never believed that..The part about the spirits being evil. If there was spirits here then they weren't evil or just went around minding their own business. They certainly never bothered you anytime you were there. 

However tonight maybe they were onto something as the red moon shown bright.

The moon shined red as blood tonight as shadows moved.

Quiet night. Unholy night of beasts. Feasting their sights upon the stray women who dare stay out at night when the full moon rises, lighting the pathway for the beasts to claim their prey. Gnashing teeth, snarling fangs waiting to take a bite into innocent flesh where the terrible claws miss. Waiting to snatch you away down into their dark abyss never to return. She was none what so ever concerned about traveling alone tonight. She had better places to be and anyone who dared be foolish enough to tangle with the night would never be heard from again. One look at it would deter most creatures away. But hier business was not with them.

You shivered in the wind that picked up clutching your rings and the small bouquet of flowers closer as you rubbed your shoulders in a vain attempt to bring what limited warmth you had back to your body.

Partially through what was left of the limited moonlight, you passed by some wild trees that made your stomach flip but it came a different feeling.

The feeling of being watched.

It didn't start out that way. At first it was just an aspect in the back of your mind you brushed of as paranoia of the shrine's old ghost stories echoing in your mind. The feeling first came around when the sun had just started to set and it wasn't strong enough to warrant anything more than a two second thought and hand waving them off. However thing's changed. The sun soon disappeared over the horizon to be kissed good night by it's counterpart, the moon, and the walking woman was glad that it was a full moon, for it brought moonlight strong enough for you to see the pathway as your feet continued to walk. With it came the feeling but tenfold. You've only felt this way before back at home when your too clingy fiance wouldn't leave you alone, that same feeling also returned with the feeling of being followed, but every time your head snapped over your shoulder towards the Darkness behind you....

There would be nothing.

Literally nothing. Nothing but the cold wind starting to pick up. You brushed it off as just your paranoia getting the better of you and you set your jaw against the wind. There was nothing there anyways so what did you have to worry about?

Someone following you and dragging you back home. Your family would make you marry the most obnoxious man ever and you would never be able to come here again. You'd be damned if you weren't going to give your offerings one last time. And at least say goodbye to your childhood sanctuary.

The overgrown weeds hugged the hem of the bridal dress she wore. A ghost of white in the darkness. A warmth settling in with invisible eyes as you approached the large stone. It's carvings long since worn away to where you could barely make it out but as always you bowed against the wind and leaned down to place the roses you've brought as a final farewell gift to the deities whom lurked here if any lurked here at all. As if pleased with your gift, the wind temporarily stopped in its path. This was it. Once you returned, the ceremony would already be ready to start and you'd be a taken woman. It was a miracle you were able to sneak out this long.

"Good bye. Thank you for providing me many years of happy memories. I hope one day another person will be here in my place."

A hand reached out to brush away some of the overgrown vines from the cold stone. A barely visible carving of a sun was visible in the limited moonlight. You had once asked one of the superstitious elders about it and he had explained the legend of how there had been two deities long ago. One of the son and one of the moon. The sun deity had fallen in love with a human farm girl but before they were married she was killed by a demon. They say that his shrine and garden was built on the place that was once her farm. You didn't know how true that was or even if it was real, but you did find the take quite tragic.

"I was to be married too. I wonder if it was as heart breaking for you as it was for me."

Nothing but the lonely wind and crickets chirping answered you.

You didn't speak at first. Slowly standing up. Wind blowing the veil around you. The blood moonlight giving a reddish glint to the olden shrine.

You snorted at your situation despite yourself being angry. "I still can't believe my family saw anything in him. He couldn't even say his vows right at the rehearsal...I guess that was because he was imagining saying them to someone else the whole time." A different version of you he wanted most likely.

"What was his vows anyways? I bet they were so bland and and boring." You snickered thinking about his bumble at the rehearsal before you cleared your throat before in a bad impression of his voice you spoke in a cheesy lovestruck tone. "My beautiful love. Bind our blood in ceremony and let me share your name." A hand outstretched to no one as you fake acted out processing your love to an invisible imaginary person. "Under the stars of the heavens, I solemly swear, that this hand will always be kind and never cruel. That my voice will only speak truth. That this life is now forever yours." The outstretched hand pretended to take the imaginary person's hand. "Now as yours is mine."

You could hear imagine the look on his face if you told him how predictable his  Making you smile and continue. Your engagement ring slipped off your finger as you pretended to use it as the wedding ring presenting it to the stone.

"Bind our souls to infinity and I will promise you love and devotion through sickness and health and beyond the realms of death." You continued to speak remembering the details of the day like it happened yesterday. "I will love you in all your forms now and forever. Through several lifetimes and back." Your voice was low and smooth now speaking it like you meant it with pride. "From now to infinity." You held the ring up as if actually presenting it to someone. "Unyielding. Untainted. Undeniable. With this voice I promise you my love and heart. With this ring, I ask you to be mine!" You held up the ring- only to accidentally again trip on your train and slip. "Crap!"

You ended up landing on just your knees his time. Both rings again falling to the ground and rolling away from sight. Not that you really cared about that as much as you cared about the soreness this goofy outfit was causing you.

You hissed slowly moving to stand back up. "Ugh. I keep tripping over my stupid dress."

You scrambled to grab your hem again and look around for the ring. Where'd they go? You looked around for the ring and eventually found them laying just in front of you in the grass. Ah. There they are. You were half tempted to just leave them there but your family would be angry. Your hand reached out to them-

Until something grabbed your wrist-

It was like the air itself had wrapped around your wrist and PULLED! You yelled out as you arm was tugged forward and you yelled as your other hand shot out to brace yourself against the ground. A horror feeling shot through your body as you looked up and saw..

Literally nothing there.

The moonlight illuminated the area in front of you and you could see nothing but you felt an iron grip on you arm. You couldn't help but let out a little yell of fright before you started pulling back in a panic. Pulling back and yanking at the otherworldly grip keeping you in place. Your other arm flying out to grip your arm and pull back as hard as you could. Pulling, yelling, and fighting back until whatever it was gave- You ended up falling onto your backside scrambling away from your position and hastily shooting up to your feet stand. Your lungs heaved in horror at nothing. 

The wind howled around you blowing the veil around like some bridal cape. The clouds increased in the sky and the bloody moon oozed it's light down on misfortune.

THUMP-

Your mouth dropped in horror as the ground under your feet moved, as of a great beast was disturbed by your presence. The ground rumbled and shook as you teetered and waved your arms around to steady yourself from falling again. Pupils the sizes of pins as you gave small gasps and yelps as thunder crashed overhead thunder reigning through the sky and cold wind swirling around. Until the monster under the dirt finally ceased and all was still again. You gasped out and stood there panting heavily as everything just..

Stopped.

As if it didn't even happen. You panted looking around yourself but not seeing anything. What the hell just happened?!

BAM!!

A hollow push erupted from the ground in front of you. Eyes going small as something from the depths battered it's way from beneath the surface. A feeling of ice injected itself into your veins as something pushed out from under your feet. Dirt pushed up with each deep push upwards. Cracks formed between old roots and rocks. A shiny ring slowly rolled away from the jostling-

Only to be snatched up as a white hand burst from beneath the soil.

Body froze. Jaw opening. Eyes wide as the moon. Digits old and worn flexed out feeling against the nearly disturbed dirt until they found their target in a small rings. Fingers long and boney curled around them drawling them into it's cold dead palm before it retreated back down into the depths of the abyss leaving a disturbed dirt mound behind. The wind carried what sounded like a happy sigh of relief after the soft dirt stopped moving about.

"I do."

There was a grim pause. Wind howling. AND THEN THE GROUND BEGAN RISING UP WITH MORE FORCE-

She didn't hesitate for a moment. Not even a second. Not when the woman turned around and RAN.

Every runner knows that the first warning sign of danger is a sense of dread, a feeling of impending doom. You are about to run away from a monster. But how do you prepare for this? Y/n had always hated dark forests with its lumbering tall trees. It was a place where she felt fear. The dark teased like taunting bullies, each sway of a branch creaking it's maniacal glee and every whistle the wind whipped by your ears whistled their sick pleasure in watching her panicked state of mind. CLICK, CLICK, CLICK!! Went the sounds of her heels against the bricked ground and curling tree roots, like spiderwebs under her feet, ready to snag her and make her join the abyss any moment. The darkness caged you in with the mockery of noises, a canopy of night shrouding the way out. But for now you only knew one thing.

RUN.

Your body felt light, only being able to feel every time your feet slapped against the ground which would surely be sore later, but you didn't care. You could be hurting for the next ten years for all you cared! Please gods just let you get away! Your eyes darted around for any signs of escape only being shown endless darkness instead. Your only hope was to get back to Taylor! Or to get back to the manor! A place you could at least take refuge. Your arm were partially extended in front of you, to push and swipe down any bush, branches, and other plants in your way as you ran, other hand holding up your dress in a vain attempt to keep from tripping. Stumbling and half tripping over large tree roots and clumps of grass in your wake, but still making good distance. Until the burning in your lungs threatened to make you drop, and you were forced to start slowly down step by step until you were hugging the side of a tree for life, your arms desperately gripping the rough bark until the imprints were deep in your palm and your knuckles were deep white, forcing your body to step around the tree until you reached it's front and you hid yourself behind it from the direction you just ran from. Your back hit the hard tree and your head tilted towards the heavens, hands clutching your pounding heart. And there was silence other than the mockery of wind and branch creaks. Your throat and lungs were on fire. Your heart pounded almost painfully in your chest. And you did not dare move in fear of seeing that-...that-....MONSTER somewhere behind you.

That-....That wasn't real r-r-right? It COULDN'T be real! It was just a figment of your imagination projected by your fear! T-That must've been the case!...But then..How were you able to make contact with it if it was just a hallucination? You felt your hand make contact with that thing's grip and you felt the struggle you gave. You stood there, shaking harder than a tree in a tsunami in dead of winter. Other than the gasps of air your body forced you to make, you dared not make a sound. Not a noise. The whole time you stayed perfectly still as ever so slowly your heart rate decreased the longer the silence went on and the longer nothing appeared. Slowly your lungs and throat's fire extinguished with the help of the cold wind you swallowed, and what was left behind was just a dull soreness. The rapid beating of your heart calmed slowly until it was just a little above what it would normally be beating. Your eyes slowly regained focus from the sheer panic. And your body calmed down but not your mind. Your mind still raced in fear from what you just saw and you stared straight up at the creaking branches of the tree you hid behind. The panic still clear and making you do nothing but listen in anticipation, like a rabbit hiding from a pursuing fox. But still...nothing but silence. And when your eyes slowly looked to the right and your face followed until your cheek and side of the face was pressed against the rough tree bark awaiting for any sounds, but nothing still came.

It was a stupid decision...A bad one really but-..

You slowly scraped your back against the back of the tree slowly inching your way to the side of the tree, and ever so slowly, poked your head out. Not all the way. Just enough to look out at the direction you ran from and saw...nothing. Nothing but darkness and trees. And that made you pause. There was...nothing? Nothing at all? Slowly you pushed your head fully out to see better, and took your time grazing your eyesight around the darkness, straining your eyes in the limited light that seeped between the leaves and branches. Quietly listening for anything running after you, but still nothing came. ...You-..You must've lost whatever that was. You exhaled a shaky sigh of relief and slumped back against the tree. Eyes closing as a wave of relief washed over your tired body.

''What am I doing!? Don't just stand there like an idiot!! RUN!!''

You listened to your inner voice, you turned on your heels and began running again taking the opportunity given to you by the gods. You didn't care if you got lost this time, you only cared about living. And so through the darkness the abyss had to offer, you again ran. Not which direction you were heading. Not sure who you'd run into or if you got more lost, but you were darned determined to not be eaten tonight by anyone! Not today demons! Or..zombie.OR WHATEVER THE HECK THAT WAS! You only did what you did before. Your heels clicked against the ground which would surely be sore later, but you didn't care. Your f/c eyes darted around for any signs of escape only being shown endless darkness instead. Your arms were partially extended in front of you, to push and swipe down any bush, branches, and other plants in your way as you ran. Stumbling and half tripping over large tree roots and clumps of grass in your wake, but still making good distance. Until the burning in your lungs threatened to make you drop, and this time the roots claiming your feet snagged onto a particularly large root, and a few feet you went tumbling

Your screams of tumbling over a few feet were cut short as it felt like you hit every single root, rock, and hard spot on your way down. Pain exploded everywhere your body made contact with the ground until finally with a final thud, your body fell hard onto soft grass. Knocking the air out of your lungs and you gasping for air on your side. Your body was in pain from everywhere your body hit the ground and you were sure it would leave bruises and scratches later. You coughed and gasped for air, lungs burning but you nearly stopped breathing again when load ghost like moaning came from up the path that was DEFINITELY NOT wind making your body feel like it was dipped in ice as your heartbeats sore. No. Not more of them. Not again! Adrenaline kicked in now as your body wobbled and felt so light, not to mention hurt, as you forced yourself to stand and start walk-running away, swaying as you still gasped for air but your panicked state didn't care about the pain or anything as you somehow quickly got your balance back and started running through the dark. The sounds and darkness of the forest blocked almost all moonlight as you blindly ran to try and get away from the giant demons, to keep from being eaten. You ran...and ran...and ran blindly in the dark with your hands in front of you. Branches and other plants hitting your legs and face as you did, the sounds of the things behind you disappearing as you kept running. At one point you had the brilliant idea to look behind you to see if anything was following you-

"AH!"

Your foot once again got caught on something. You screamed as your body went tumbling head over heels down a hill in the dark. Your already sore and hurt body becoming even more so as you rolled and rolled and rolled until you finally came to a stop at the bottom of it onto your back, with your body facing the sky. Your vision swam and your head spun as you stared up dizzily at the sky as your vision slowly went around and around and around until it focused. And you gave a cough as your burning lungs heaved against your chest. Your heart feeling as if it'll explode any moment it was beating so fast, you couldn't stop it! You just sat there gasping and panting and clutching your chest. Your brain felt foggy. No...No. Don't black out now! Get up! COME ON GET UP!! Muscles burnt. Barely able to breath. The dirt and grass felt stinging cold and burnt your skin as you turned on your side to weakly lay on your stomach, your face gasping the sweet scent of grasses for a moment as you laid there for a sweet few silent seconds, before you allowed yourself to look up and you stopped..gasping heavily and staring at what was before you in awe.

THE SHRINE!!

If you could get inside then you could wait for someone to get help or until daylight broke. Ignoring the pain in your ankle, you gathered up your dress in your arms, you heaved in worry as you wobble ran as fast as your legs could carry your body. It felt like an eternity scrambling to and then around the mansion not daring to look back. You knew it was ALWAYS a bad idea to look back during chases! Especially in ghost stories. You'll be darned if you made the same mistake! You made for the front. Practically beelining it to the old doors as they creaked and groaned under your force to throw them open and then slam them closed behind you. Your back presses against the cold thick wood and there you stood panting heavily. It felt like two fists were squeezing your lungs out of any air they sucked in at all. Your heart pounded hard enough in your chest to be mistaken for a drum in a parade. Your senses on fire yet on the same time highly alert.

Whatever you woke up was out there. Whatever it was, was most definitely looking for you! What had you done to cause this?! The heartbeats were the only things heard in your mind. The wind howling in through the crevices of the old building and whistled like a thousand ghostly birds. It was so much to take in. You prayed as hard as you could to whoever deity this shrine houses to save you-

"You look at me with cold eyes. You see me me and turn away as if you didn't know me."

your body froze when the voice reverberated throughout the entire shrine. Coming from everywhere and no whe at once. Who...What was that?

"You know that I couldn't have shown you me. Gave you me. I couldn't show you my weakness so I put on a mask to see you but I still want you. A flower that resembles you blossomed in this garden of loneliness. I wanted to give it to you as I rip off this mask. But I know this can't go on forever."

"W-What do you want?" Her lips trembled as a presence closed in.

"It's not what I seek. It's what I desire. Wishing that love is as perfect itself. Wishing all my weaknesses are hidden." The room fell sideways in his mind. An oozing feeling on continuous falling for her over and over again. Swallowed by the monster that demanded he claim and the beast that roared at him for everything he did wrong to be made right again. "In a life where nothing was ever genuine, you carved a piece out of my heart that will never feel complete unless you yourself abide by it's beating. So you see..A vow is your word. Your word is an oath. An oath is a promise, Sunlight."

The doors rattled on their hinges making you shriek and back away. Gazing wife eyed in horror as the old wood rattled and creaked until the door opened for the creature that was summoned. A man as bright as the sun but as dark as the lightless shy stepped within. Your face fell body trembled as you watched him hold up a single large hand. The shining seal of the contract right there on his finger. A smile as soft and sweet as it was as dark and sinister gazed at you.  An angel if his horns were at all a halo. 

"W-What do you want with me?"

"Accept my devotion and become mine. A place not beneath but beside me. For we were lovers before we were ever born in this world. My name shall be your own, your blood shall be mine, and all combinations of life will be one. Accept all of me, as I already have all of you."

"I d-don't even know you."

"You will because now my light.." The smile widened. Arms enveloping her own. Eyes shining with some dark variety of adoration. "We'll be together forever."

[junemermaid]

[NiF fic snippet]

so in order to unblock myself on my first NiF WIP I started another NiF WIP, surely nothing can go wrong here

post-canon, everyone lives au, ot3 agenda in full swing. unofficially titled one beautiful morning, Lin Shu woke to find the Son of Heaven at his door.

-

The gate to the yard is open. He is under no illusion that he's been let this close unobserved, but he ties his horses next to the watering trough by the gate, and goes in.

The path to the house is paved with smooth stones. Somewhere out of sight, chickens cluck and flutter, and a pigeon coos mournfully. A woman emerges from the house: a trim, solid figure in the shade of the veranda.

"Husband," she calls over her shoulder, "the messenger is here! I'll see him in."

She comes into the sunlight, and he chokes on nothing but the sight of her. Her garb is simple, unlike the rich silks she would wear to court, but the years sit lightly upon her shoulders; the spring in her step is as supple as ever. While her hair is tied low in the sedate fashion of a married woman, it still falls down her back thick and dark as a stroke of good ink.

Last time he saw her, she knelt to him at a private audience and asked for his leave to marry. Her betrothed, his dearest friend, their childhood companion, had lived through the battles in the north. A miraculous recovery, some claimed. The skill of his doctor, she asserted.

She brought the news knowing it would be a sword through his heart, and still she was right when she said, I did not want you to hear this from anyone else. I hope you will forgive me someday, Your Majesty.

There's nothing to forgive, Princess, he told her, half-strangled by hurt and relief and breathtaking love. He is alive. How can I not be glad?

With an aching smile and another obeisance, she left with his imperial permission to wed the jianghu scholar Su Zhe.

Here, in the sunlit yard, it takes her a few paces to understand he isn't coming to meet her or offering a greeting, like the courier she's mistaken him for would. Her brow furrows—there are lines there he does not remember, either—and slowly, her hand goes to her mouth.

He watches her war with herself, swamped in her astonishment. Her gaze swims with the same tangled things that shoot up into his own mind, splintering the lull of the ride.

If she says Your Majesty now, he—he does not know. He will crumple and fall. He journeyed for a month to be here, and there, the plan ends.

"Xiao Jingyan," Mu Nihuang whispers through her trembling fingers. "What are you—how in the name of—"

Should he bow, he thinks, wild, unmoored—kneel in the sand of the yard like a lord of yore, come to entreat a sage hidden in the hills?

Mu Nihuang is no sage, or even a wife to one. But she was once the Princess-Marshal of Yunnan. She's rarely met a hurdle she did not try to vault head-on.

"Stay there," she says, as if he would move for all treasures in the empire. She rounds on her heel to shout back into the house, "Beloved husband! Perhaps you'd care to explain why the Son of Heaven, His Imperial Majesty, may he reign for ten thousand years, is standing in my yard?"

There is a loud clatter from inside. His heart jolts in echo: beloved husband. The tint of fondness in her annoyance. This peaceful, prosperous house, the veranda freshly sanded, the jasmine in bloom, like dawn clouds perched on the boughs.

What is he doing? As if compelled by the same question, Nihuang looks him up and down: travel-stained, dishevelled, half-mad with purpose and yearning.

"I'm not that anymore," he says, rough with disuse. The horses do not make for great conversationalists. "I left, Nihuang. I stepped down."

tbc

[lady-zephyrine]

One day I should redraw that one picture of Skips from regular show sitting by a couple of graves but with Morpho instead.

[eternalshadeart]

The Raven // inspired by the poem “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

This it is and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

[skyminsworld]

The Blood of the Dragon runs thick

Rhaenyra Targaryen x oc Aelyx Targaryen

Aelyx Targaryen and her sister-wife Rhaenyra were eager to take to the skies on their mighty dragons Vermithor and Syrax. The sun painted the clouds with hues of orange and pink as they prepared for their flight, reminiscent of the Targaryen banners that once flew proudly over the Seven Kingdoms.

Rhaenyra, her silver hair shimmering in the sunlight, mounted Syrax gracefully. "Ready, Aelyx?" she called out with a grin, her voice dripping with playful anticipation, a nod to the mischief that often lurked in the hearts of Targaryen kin.

Aelyx adjusted the straps on Vermithor, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "As ready as I'll ever be. Let's give them a show, shall we?" she teased, her tone carrying the hint of a challenge, echoing the banter of courtly jesters from days of old.

With a powerful beat of their wings, the dragons launched into the air, soaring high above Dragonstone, the ancient seat of House Targaryen. The wind whipped through their hair as they flew in perfect harmony, the bond between dragon and rider unbreakable, much like that of legendary duos from tales of yore.

Rhaenyra glanced over at Aelyx, a playful smirk playing on her lips. "Enjoying yourself, dear sister?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Aelyx grinned back, her heart pounding with excitement. "Immensely. But I must admit, you do make it look effortless," she teased back, her words laced with the playful rivalry often found among siblings of noble birth.

They loved soaring the skies together, each flight filled with boundless freedom and exhilaration.Here they felt free of duties ,free of lords and ladies

Aelyx affectionately ran her hand along Vermithor's side, feeling the warmth of their bond as they soared together through the clouds

As they ascended higher in the sky, Aelyx couldn't resist the urge to show off. With a triumphant cry of 'Dracarys!' she urged Vermithor, who let out a spectacular burst of fire, lighting up the sky below "Copy that" she yells

After hours of flying, they decided to land on Dragonstone, where their ancestors once ruled over the Seven Kingdoms with dragonfire and blood, as chronicled in historical accounts. Vermithor and Syrax touched down gracefully, their wings folding neatly against their sides, as if paying homage to the legacy of their bloodline.

Aelyx dismounted, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration. "That was quite the adventure," she said with a playful twinkle in her eye, her voice tinged with amusement.

Rhaenyra nodded, a knowing smile gracing her lips. "Indeed, but the best part is yet to come," she replied cryptically, her eyes locking with Aelyx's in a silent exchange of shared understanding.

And as they walked hand in hand towards the castle, a sense of anticipation hung in the air, mingling with the fading echoes of their laughter. With a gentle touch, Rhaenyra turned to face Aelyx, her gaze softening with affection. Without a word, she leaned in, and their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent promise of more adventures to come in the boundless skies of their shared destiny.

[writerinloves-blog]

Introduction of my OFC for my Kit Tanthalos story

In a time when magic whispered in the winds and legends still danced with the stars, there was a child named Lyra Calloway. From the moment she drew her first breath, it was evident to all who gazed upon her tiny, fragile form that she was destined for greatness. Her parents, both wielders of ancient magic that had been passed down through generations, recognized the spark of enchantment in their daughter's eyes. They nurtured it, crafting her into a sorceress even before she could walk, let alone speak.

For the initial years of her life, Lyra's world was a symphony of spells and wonder. Her parents, benevolent magicians who traveled from village to village, brought with them not just awe-inspiring illusions, but a profound sense of joy and curiosity. They painted the sky with hues of magic, teaching their daughter the secrets of the arcane as they ventured, creating a tapestry of happiness that cocooned her existence.

One day, the winds of fate shifted the course of Lyra's life. Their nomadic journey led them to the edges of Tir Asleen, a city wrapped in an enigma and shielded by a powerful magic barrier. Lyra, her eyes wide with anticipation, clung to the tales she had heard about this mystical place. Her heart swelled with excitement as they approached Tir Asleen, the very thought of witnessing the magic barrier fueling her young imagination.

Yet, caution mingled with her thrill. Her parents, wise custodians of ancient knowledge, warned her against wielding her magic within Tir Asleen. Magic, they had told her, was a forbidden dance within those walls, a secret forbidden in the city since the year of Lyra's birth. The very thought of retribution hung heavy in their voices, and Lyra, despite her natural inclination to explore, nodded in solemn understanding.

Their journey, however, was destined to be a tapestry woven with tragedy. Ambushed on the outskirts of Tir Asleen, her parents became victims of an unseen vendetta, their magical defenses crumbling before a malevolent force. In the chaos that ensued, Lyra's mother's voice, laced with desperate urgency, pierced the night. "Run, Lyra," her mother's whispers echoed, barely audible above the clash of spells. "Run and don't look back. We love you."

In her innocence, Lyra obeyed. Her tiny legs carried her away from the nightmare, propelling her toward Tir Asleen. She reached the shimmering barrier, her eyes searching for the door her parents had spoken of, the hidden portal through which she could step into safety. But she didn't see anything. It was a heartbreaking sight — a child, alone and abandoned, waiting at the threshold of a city that held the promise of refuge.

Eight long days passed, marked by hunger, fear, and the distant echoes of her parents' teachings. Her resilience wavered, and just when hope was fading, a compassionate soldier discovered her, a fragile wisp of a girl, clinging to life like a flickering candle in the wind. Tir Asleen, a city that had shrouded itself in mystique, embraced her not as a foundling, but as a ward of the castle staff, destined to grow within its stone walls.

Within the grandeur of the castle, Lyra's magical origins were a forbidden secret, locked away like a treasured relic. She was not born within those walls, yet she became an integral part of the castle's heartbeat. The enchanting aura that had once clung to her like stardust was now a memory, a whisper in the corridors of the castle. As the years passed, she embraced a new role — that of a diligent lady's maid, her hands skilled in the art of service, her spirit veiled by the mundane routine of castle life.

Magic, once the guiding star of her existence, was now a tale of yore, a dream faded beneath the weight of her new responsibilities. But little did she know that destiny, the weaver of unforeseen tales, had not forgotten her. In the quietude of the castle, where the echoes of sorcery were but a distant memory, Lyra Calloway's extraordinary destiny awaited, poised to unfold like the petals of a long-forgotten flower, waiting to bloom once more.