#original ficiton

[indecentpause]

The Black & Blues: Part II, chapter v

in which Meara has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

Late next Saturday night you have another panic attack, and since your daytime is everyone else’s nighttime, Danny is asleep, and you don’t want to wake up Josselin and Frankie, so you instead huddle in a pile of pillows in the corner of the living room. Your headphones have been on so long your ears are starting to sweat. They’re probably way too loud to be safe. At first, you forget you have medication, but thankfully about five minutes into the thick of it, you remember, and you take one. It knocks you out for a couple of hours. If that’s what it does to you in a full fledged panic attack, there’s no way you can use this at work. Maybe a half dose when you have to be up and about? How can you test it, though? It’s meant to slow you down; if you take it while you’re feeling well it’ll probably just knock you out. You’ll just have to push through until you have a chance to test it. Sunday and Monday go all right. But Tuesday night, all you can think about is your therapy appointment the next morning, and no matter how much you try to breathe, and try to rationalize, and try to tell yourself This Is A Good Thing, they are going to get you meds, the worry spiral of What if they don’t think you’re bad enough to need them, what if they write you off, what if they’re homophobic or super Christian like almost everyone in your old town was, and it just builds and builds until Rodney finds you crying in the back room on your break and says, “Hey, kid, if you need to go home early, I don’t mind staying an extra hour or two. Could always use the money.” And he’s visibly uncomfortable offering this favor to you, even though he’s never been mean. Some older men are like that, you guess. They have to make it seem like they’re doing it for themselves instead of someone else. Like it’s a convenience instead of a kindness. So he walks you up to the shift manager’s office down the hall from the break room, and he knocks on the door. You can’t make words happen because you feel like you’re hyperventilating, so Rodney tells your boss, “Hey, I need a few extra hours and asked Meara if I could take the rest of his shift. That okay?”

read it here for free on Ao3!

Current taglist: @abalonetea @only-book-lovers-left-alive @poore-choice-of-words @leadhelmetcosmonaut @jasperygrace

@drippingmoon @magic-is-something-we-create @winterandwords

@revenantlore @mr-orion @idreamonpaper @theoddcryptid @thelaughingstag

Black & Blues taglist: @lynnedwardswrites

[gwen-tolios]

You know a little about garden fairies. No one wants to be the victim of small curses, but it's nearly impossible to know what sets a fairy off so they're often treated like wasps - you ignore them and they'll ignore you.

Still, half-dead chrysanthemums can't be a nice home.

You buy a new pot, putting it right next to the old one. The fairy investigates it from time to time, you can see them harvesting nectar, but they continue to live in the half-dead pot.

Thinking it might just like the placement of the pot, you rotate the two. The fairy stays with the now-dead chrysanthemums. It thankfully doesn't seem to have too much against the move; you don't think you've earned a curse, anyway.

In the evenings, you sit on your balcony and enjoy the sun. Sometimes you see the fairy, sitting outside the burrow it's created in sun-baked earth. You don't know where it goes during the day - they're supposed to feed on nectar but your one pot of healthy chrysanthemums can't be enough to feed it. Does it harvest from your neighbor's mini roses? The posies three floors down? You've never seen it fly from or to your balcony, but it is nothing more than a tiny, green speck the size of a thumb joint.

It sticks around as summer ends, and you start to get worried. You know it's not a pet, dependent on you for care, but you notice the flowers are dying and with it the fairy's food source. You start to leave out caps of honey water, and now, after nearly two months of you and the fairy mutually ignoring each other you have attention.

It's nerve-wracking, seeing it land on your hand while you're holding a book. Can you turn the page? Or will that upset it, leading to a stinging curse? You don't turn a page for a solid ten minutes until it flies off to its burrow.

When you step outside it flies around your head, wings buzzing in your ear.

One evening, you place the cap of honey water not on the floor near the pot, but on your small bistro table. The fairy lands next to it, slurping the water. You've never seen it drink before, and try to hide your laughter. Faires are delicate, magical creatures and you expected them to use their hands as a cup. But no, the fairy ducks its head into the cap, slurping. When it sits back on its knees, water drips from its chin. Its hair, really wisps of magic, is weighed down.

It looks at you with round, faceted eyes and sings. You tense, fairies only make a sound when casting magic. Have you finally pissed it off? Have you been cursed?

Slowly, you step back into your apartment. Your bowl of raspberries, which you'd been munching on, is once again full.

You've not been cursed, you've been blessed.

You cry, glad the fairy likes you that much. Trusts you that much.

It's just a magical wasp, you know that. It feeds on flowers. They die when the weather gets cold. You shouldn't feel so connected to what many people consider a pest.

You grab a shallow dish, fill it with more honey water. A fest for a fairy. Slowly, you carry it and your bowl of raspberries outside.

The fairy is on the table's end, legs dangling and wings flapping like a butterfly. Its gaze zooms in on the dish. You can't read its facial expression, but you think clapping hands are joy. You set both dishes on the table, and for the first time, enjoy a meal together.

You find a fairy living in your “garden”: a half-dead pot of chrysanthemums on your 7th floor balcony.

[berenwrites]

Oh No - This Can't Be Happening! #comedy #vampire #shortstory

Happy New Year! Check out my first story of 2024 on Tales with Tasha. A funny paranormal comedy or new year, vampires and a teensy bit of regret! Check the end of the vid and the description for details on how to pick up your free copy of the eBook too.

Title: The Morning After: Fangs for the Memory!

When Liz wakes up on New Year's Day with a mysterious neck pain, she quickly realizes that things are far from normal, the biggest sticking point being she has no reflection! With no answers at hand, Liz sets out to unravel the mystery behind her less than usual condition. Who was the handsome man she vaguely remembers at her New Year’s Eve party? Is she ever going to be able to do her hair and makeup again?

With the help of her best friend Pete, she embarks on a quest to find answers that will leave her questioning everything she thought she knew about the world.

Genre: paranormal, vampire, comedy

Thanks in advance for any reblogs!

[textual-deviant-blog]

Conflagration - A short prompt.

There's a strange calmness within you when your feel your feet leave the ground. The first paradox comes with the onset of wind- it's too loud to hear anything else. It rushes past, and almost through you as you fall. The top of the sinkhole falls away from you, and for a scant few seconds, you feel weightless.

The impact comes and goes as it breaks something possibly vital, but you were numb long before you jumped. The water is bitingly cold, sapping heat like a pit of vipers. Your body, as if in protest, feels hot. Searing, almost. A second paradox. It is of no reassurance that you know this to be a just another trick of your mind; that your body is pushing through the last of it's reserves like a desperate wildfire in the middle of a snowstorm.

Once it's done ravishing the landscape, the cold will set in, and then death.

But, therein lies the third paradox.

You float there, on the surface of that windswept lake, lacking the weight to sink properly. Exactly when death claimed you shall forever remain a mystery, as you did not see a light, you didn't have a final reconciliation with past memories and deceased loved ones, you did not even feel the last of your strength leave you.

With a final intake of air, you pass out before you can even exhale, being left, in that moment, holding your breath for all of eternity.

It's sudden and immediate when you wake, as though mere seconds passed. So sudden, in fact, that you could almost swear that you hadn't died out there in the Wight Hole.

For a single, thoughtless, hopeful moment, you thought you had failed to kill yourself.

That thought leaves you the moment your vision clears, and, instead of Detroit's starless sky, you're greeted by something more akin to a great sea of colors. You lay there, stunned, as swathes of cosmic beauty dance across your eyes.

The grass sways with the wind a moment longer, then stops, and only the sound of footsteps moving across the grass can be heard. Laying there, you quickly shift your body around to face the noise. Whoever had made it was most likely directly behind you.

You were only partially correct.

A great shadow loomed over you as the new arrival inspected you- or, more likely, you were the new arrival. Their arms and legs stretched a little too long even for such prodigal proportions, and his skin was purplish, stretched, and wrinkled across all of his surface, which was only visible on his hands and head, past his sleeves and unkempt head of hair. His jumpsuit hung loose, being the wrong size, and their hair had barely recieved more attention than keeping it out of their eyes.

They seemed amused. "A new face touches the void. I suggest you dim your flames, or you may not last very long here."

Before I could even wonder "What flames?" I smelled something burning. I looked down, and saw my body. Saw what had been on the edge of my vision but had been ignored in favor of what was pretty and spectacular and not whatever the hell this was.

What I was, was on fire. The grass was alight, and I was panicking.

First, I yelped and tried to put myself out by dropping to the ground and rolling. The purple flames did not submit. They were not hot, but it freaked me the hell out. And they caused even more grass to burn.

Second, I planned to plead to the stranger for help, but he was but a distant laughter by the time I had gathered myself.

Third, I finally tried to just... not be on fire. I succeeded. Then collapsed from exhaustion. Or, more accurately, my limbs wouldn't move.

Rather than learn how, I just decided to take a few more breaths, and then a few more, before eventually someone else came upon me.

There was no amusement in their voice as they spoke, tenderly and ponderous. A far departure than the wrinkled old cynic. "Child," They said almost remorsefully, "Welcome to the Void. I must apologize for the world that is, for now, you are no longer as you were. You will never be able to return to what you were. What you are now, is... a Conflagration. And I, I am an Ember."

Gentle hands cradled my head, "You will have to learn quickly. But for now, rest. Let the harshness of the world fade away, if just for now. When you awaken, you must embrace it. The void demands nothing less."

I felt a tap on my forehead, and it was like a dam had collapsed in my mind. I didn't merely fall unconscious. It was as though all the aches and strains of my life had caught up to me, and I could think of nothing but succumbing to my body's needs.

My eyes shut, and I let myself fall into a deep, deep sleep.

[thedeviousdevilxx]

A WIP I've been working on lol

[acroynon]

The Heist

They were all hunched over looking intently at the laid-out map. This was the most important mission, they couldn’t afford anything to go wrong. 

“Alright, let’s go over the plan one more time,” Tommy said. He’d brought this team together. It was his plan they were following. They’d all follow him to the end of the earth if they had to. “Oliver, you’re the lookout. You stay on the roadside and let us know if you see any movement. And I mean any movement.” Oliver simply grunted and nodded. He was a big guy but didn’t have much going on upstairs. That’s why he was always the lookout. “Marco, you’re the distraction. We need something big that’ll distract the target for at least 15 minutes.” 

“Yep, I’ve got the perfect idea.” He replied. Smirking as he patted the briefcase he was holding.

 “Angela will then use her master safe cracking skills to get us inside.” Angela twirled her tools around her fingers in agreement. “Bobby, then it’s up to you to disable any alarms or trip wires we might encounter”. Bobby had years of training in the field. He could tear apart any electronic device and put it back together without leaving a trace. He simply nodded. “I’ve managed to get the location of the device from my network of spies. I’ll retrieve it. Then it’s up to Lucy to get us out.” Tommy and Lucy’s eyes met, they’d know each other the longest out of anyone around this table. 

“We take the air vents to the adjoining room. There is a window leading to a fire escape. A quick hop down and I’ll be waiting to drive us all the hell out of here.” She said. The confidence in her voice washed over the entire team. They were going to do this.

“Alright team. Let’s go get my Gameboy back from my sister!” Tommy shouted as all the kids scrambled down the treehouse and ran towards the house.

[romanwitchgirl]

Original Works

Original fiction that in no way ties to any other published work!

Behind the Trigger

Poetry

More will be added as I write more!

[missvalerietanner]

He stumbles back from the room, doubling-over to cough against the swelling possession of the rotted stench chewing through his senses. His eyes water, and he gags as his stomach heaves. His entire body locks up as it struggles to suppress the sting of the stench and the sight of its cause.

Context: the watcher at a panopticon does some sneaking around at night (naughty!) and stumbles upon the prison's morgue, overflowing with dead bodies in multiple states of decay. This is his first clear sign that no one ever leaves this place, not even in a body bag. OHHHHH!! [/mic drop]

[spirk-trek]

S1E19: Arena ⋆.˚ ✧ · ˚⊹ ·

[snakebites-and-ink]

Whumper-Turned-Caretaker CYOA 1

I'm giving this a try. It's my first time writing something interactive like this so please bear with me.

CW for the series

You linger at the top of the stairs, quietly watching the sleeping form of your basement’s unwilling inhabitant. As if just watching them will help you figure out what to do next.

You’ve had Whumpee for a while. You caught them for your own enjoyment and you’ve kept them locked up down here ever since. You treated them however you pleased, which usually meant them getting hurt. It’s taken its toll on them, but you didn’t really mind that. At least, not before now.

But you had a…an epiphany, maybe, a change of heart, a reformation, whatever you want to categorize it as. Point is, you don’t feel like you should be doing this any longer.

You take a moment to consider what you should do from here. Maybe just letting Whumpee go right away would be the technically right thing to do, but you really don’t want them running straight to the police. It would probably be better for both of you if you helped them recover first, right?

You can patch them up, meet the many needs they have that you’ve been…less than diligent about at best. Take care of them.

Then again, they’re probably behind on sleep. Waking them up to take care of them might actually be worse than leaving them as-is for the time being.

You sigh to yourself. Doing whatever seemed fun in the moment was so much easier than trying to figure out how to do what’s right.

Taglist:

@kabie-whump

[indecentpause]

The Black & Blues: Part III, Chapter i

in which Danny meets someone he's really into, and Meara realizes he might not be as over his old feelings as he'd thought.

You’ve been in this slump for ages, it feels like. But finally, you get a piece of good news: Jaisyn got you a slot in the upcoming show. You’re smack in the middle, act number six! It’s about a month out, but from the moment he tells you to the day you perform, your whole body buzzes constantly with excitement. You’re able to focus a little more on practice. At work you keep your head busy by going over your music, and you only have one other panic attack while working on the line. You have a few others, too, but you’re fortunate enough that you have them at home or in places where you can duck out to a bathroom to collect yourself. As fortunate as that can be considered. The days go on: work, sleep, practice, Josselin. You keep considering what Monika said, about having a set date to hang out with people. The best you can do to make any sort of schedule is meeting with Morgan and Josephine on Tuesday afternoons, but you can’t always be there because sometimes you’re just too worn out to wake up any time before you have to. So you don’t ask them, because it’s not fair for them to put that time to the side while not knowing if you’ll even be able to be there until the day of. At least you can see Danny most days, and Josselin works from home and has a ridiculous sleep schedule because of his insomnia. Frankie’s home sometimes when you go over. You’re trying to take what she said to heart. She cares about you. She wants to be your friend. You don’t understand why that’s so hard for you to accept. Maybe you’re worried her friendship is conditional. Even though your relationship with Josselin is solid, that’s just right now, and if you lose him, you lose her, too. You don’t know. But you’re trying.

read Part III, Chapter i, on Ao3 now!

or, if you're new, start from the beginning here!

Current taglist: @abalonetea @only-book-lovers-left-alive @poore-choice-of-words @leadhelmetcosmonaut @jasperygrace

@drippingmoon @magic-is-something-we-create @winterandwords

@revenantlore @mr-orion @idreamonpaper @theoddcryptid @thelaughingstag

Black & Blues taglist: @lynnedwardswrites

[gwen-tolios]

You press your hands to your face, hiding your eyes. You know it's Hera before you, but as the goddess of marriage she's taken on the form of your ideal wife. *Your* wife, and it's hard to hear a woman who looks and sounds like Nikoleta say to your face she wants a divorce.

"I'm not sure I'm the lawyer for you, my Hera," you say. "Surely there's a single man who can help you better?"

"Spiros," Hera says, and her voice is Nikoleta's high alto, the voice she uses when she's placing dinner on the table and serving in the bedroom, "I need a husband to represent me. And I know Athenian law doesn't apply to Olympians, so don't make that argument either."

By the end, her voice is different and her face is wrinkled. Not Nikoleta, but your mother Eva and she's smiling with the doting look she'd give her husband Dimitri every time he brought her a shawl.

"I need you to be my lawyer because you are everything Zeus is not. You are a kind and loyal husband. You make Nikoleta meals and take the children to the park. You satisfy her in bed, and when the chance came for you to cheat, you choose not to."

You blush, remembering the looks of your boss's secretary as she led you to meetings. The slide of a phone number across the counter of your regular lunch spot.

"My divorce from Zeus is simply a side effect of what I'm trying to do, and you're perfect for the job, Spiros. I promise."

"And what are you trying to do?"

"I'm the Goddess of Marriage, certainly that means I should represent it's current expression. Embody a healthy balance of work and vulnerability. And showcase that you should never, ever feel compelled to stay in a toxic relationship. For some marriages, divorce is the right answer. So I'll lead by example, divorce my cheating husband, and enter into a new marriage. One that reflects the mutual respect between modern Greek couples. Such as you and Nikoleta."

"Are you saying I'm a better model of a husband than Zeus?"

Hera laughs. "Most people are. But this isn't about Zeus, he will always be king and sky and lightening. Those things are unchanging. Marriage, however, is a reflection of culture. And so I'll shift with it. Who knows?"

She leans back in the chair, rolling her torso to draw attention to her breasts. "Maybe my next marriage will be to a woman. Those are on the rise. Or perhaps another man, but declare the marriage open. Maybe...two spouses. One of each. Greeks have so little concern about bisexuality, and as a Goddess of Marriage I have to set an example for all who worship me. Weren't you and Nikoleta looking for a third?"

You swallow. "I sincerely doubt we'd satisfy you, my Hera."

"You never know."

"I'll speak to her."

Hera leans forward in her chair, face shifting again to Nikoleta's. "That's what satisfies me, Spiros. The communication you have with your wife. How all decisions are joint. It makes you the perfect lawyer for my needs. We'll see about anything else later."

You are a divorce lawyer, the best in your field. You have just received word that you will representing the Greek goddess Hera in her divorce from Zeus.

[roselyn-writing]

Finally, After a month of working on Adeleois/Rakan lore, I managed to wrote it 😁. Let’s get started now!

Name: Rakan (Mortal) Adeleois (Mantle/Divine name).

Name meaning: In Arabic, Rakan means ‘noble’

Age: 450 Y.O.

Date of birth: 13 July. (791, In Virginian time and year).

Hair colour: Black (formerly) Silver (currently)

Eyes colour: Light Brown (formerly) Silver (currently). (Silver with violet and blue hues when he uses his powers.)

Aesthetics/Colours: Silver, Grey, Night aesthetics, moon aesthetic, moonlight, Bohemian aesthetic. Warrior aesthetics, pagan. Etc.

Favourite colours: Black, Silver, Navy blue, White.

Likes: to help people, being honest, practicing his Kophesh sword. Spread peace and justice. Loves to admire the moon. (In its every phase). Likes to read, eating healthy, Lover of mountains, lover of nature, lover of caves.

Hates: liars, bigots (Hate them with his VERY heart), Thieves, murderers, abusers, racists, Racism, Wars, and etc.

Favourite food: Beef Barley soup with roasted veggies, Mushrooms salad, Porridge. Tea, coffee, hot beverages. Bread and cheese, chocolate muffin. Beef chops.

Least favourite food: Ice cream (any flavour).

Wardrobe/outfits:

“I will defend the defenseless and protect the innocent till my last breath!” ——- Adeleois’s quote, The moon warrior.

🗡️The lore 🌕

CW: Gore and blood, Bigotry and etc.

In the glorious mountain Kythera of Virginia. An ancient place filled with power and wonder. Where the only worthy will be bestowed upon such power of divinity and wisdom.

There, on top of the mountain and beyond is fit place for living, There is a tribe called So’lar they worship and venerate the sun, They deem all other sources of light inferior.

They disrespect the people who worship the stars, the planets, the sky, but the most people who are tortured and disrespected by them; were the people who worship the moon. They are called the ‘Moon’aris’ and the Sun worshippers are called ‘Sun’aris’

The Sun’aris always call other people who worship and venerate other things ‘Lestsi’ which means: ‘Blasphemers’ or ‘Heretics’ or ‘unbelievers’

The Sun’aris took a lot of prisoners of the Moon’aris and tortured them until they abandoned their beliefs and converted to their religion, and worship the sun like them.

Rakan, was born in a place closer to the So’lar. But he found his way into the tribe because of the tribe scouts, They brought him there as a baby and decided to welcome him into the tribe.

They made sure to tell him of their ‘glorious’ religion when he grew up. And they did. They taught him everything they want. And they did the same to other children.

Rakan grew up into the So’lar tribe. He learned their ways and embraced them. He thought they are true and righteous until the day that changed his life forever.

Rakan, Who is 16 years old, He saw the scouts of the tribe brought a few people of the Moon’aris, They were two women and a man.

They were tortured brutally because they refused to abandon their beliefs. Rakan and his best friend: Andreas, they were traumatised by this.

They saw the tribe leader: Alexander, shoving his hand into the woman’s throat and pulled her vocal cords out along with other soft bloody tissues. She screamed loudly, in pain and horror; it was a macabre sight, the floor was painted in a crimson canvas of the innocent woman’s blood, she was tortured brutally, she gurgled loudly, trying to summon a cry of help and plea but she couldn’t, because her vocals cords were pulled out of her throat, Rakan changed forever. He doesn’t want to be a part of this tribe. He winced in pain at that sight and it was forever in his mind.

That sight was enough to haunt Rakan for the rest of his life, The woman was still alive when the leader tortured her like that.

Rakan and Andreas were best friends from their younger days, They ate together, played together and even studied together, They were known as ‘brothers in arms’ and they friendship was strong, one time, Andreas saved his friend Rakan from a stampede of the desert beasts. Their bond became much stronger ever since.

One day, Rakan was admiring the full moon in the night, Andreas, once again, warned him that he shouldn’t get caught while watching and admiring the moon, Rakan noted and left, after that, He heard a voice, it told Rakan he should climbed the mountain and he will see something he need. Rakan, begrudgingly agreed, He climbed the mountain with the man, After he and the man reached the mountain top.

Rakan felt something strange yet beautiful, He was admiring the full moon again. Suddenly, A bright and blinding light of the moon came down on Rakan, Bathing him in the moonlight, He felt his flesh wrought anew, reborn in the moonlight as a beacon; ready to fight for justice and the truth, it felt like eons then it dissipated, Rakan saw his reflection on the glassy rocks of the mountain, He noticed his face and everything about him changed, His looks, his body and everything thing, There are even tattoos and crescent moon mark on his forehead and body.

Fully adorned with armor made of moonlight and bestowed upon the powers of the moon. Rakan decided to use his newfound powers to protect the innocent, defend the defenseless and bring justice to the land of Kythera, He took his Kophesh sword that was made from moonlight and dashed like a moonlight meteorite to fight for freedom and justice.

Rumors and words spread alike, about a new moon warrior. That came to rescue the other people who aren’t worshipping the sun and thus being oppressed by the Sun’aris, The Sun’Aris deeply loathed this new information and they decided to search for this warrior and kill him on sight.

The leader of the Sun’aris knew of Rakan disappearance but he didn’t care at all. He thought that he died or something. But he didn’t knew that Rakan became the next Moon Warrior that is protecting the oppressed people who aren’t worshipping the sun. He is protecting morning, noon and night. He didn’t tire while doing so.

The leader of the Sun’Aris: Alexander, didn’t believe his eyes or ears, when his scouts told him of a new aspect of the moon, His eyes widened, his mouth fell agape as he tried to process their words. He even asked them again.

“Is this true?” He inquired.

They all nodded, Their faces tell the answer. “Yes, It is.”

“Yeah, He is Rakan,” one of the scouts volunteerd.

In pure anger, He threw his pen and everything on his desk on the floor. He looked terrified and confused. He looked at his scouts but they didn’t answer him let alone reacted to his meltdown. They bowed their heads and excused themselves to leave.

Alexander vowed that he will kill this new moon warrior, and he will bathe in his blood to satisfy his hatred and anger.

It was from that moment, Alexander made Andreas hate his best friend: Rakan, He managed to poison Andreas’s hearts and made him feel ‘abandoned’ and ‘betrayed’ by his so-called best friend: Rakan.

Andreas began to hate Rakan, He began to train more and more to prove himself the best warrior in mounth Kythera, He even became the aspect of the sun himself: Sunayois

Rakan or preferred to be called Adeleois, He is protecting the people of Moon’ari, Satarins and other people who worship other things, This made Alexander even more angrier and hateful.

Adeleois was excellently deluding the Sun’aris attacks and traps, He even killed them when they refused to leave him alone, bloods on his hands, his armor and on his Kophesh, So his hands are pretty much tied. He was forced to kill, he disliked killing,

The Sun’aris vowed to find Adeleois and kill him, but they couldn’t defeat him if they found him, He was far too powerful for them. He is strategic, calm, and patient unlike Sun’aris, they were brash, aggressive and aren’t strategic at all.

Adeleois is threatened with death and torture, but he didn’t care at all, his devotion was set aflame when he saw there are people who needed him, people who would pray for a saviour and Adeleois answered their prayers, His life isn’t important when he saw the numbers of people being tortured and killed for what they believe in, and —Lady Selene, The beautiful and benevolent woman who is currently the Queen of the Moon’aris. She needed him, They needed him.

It had been years of war between the Sun’aris and Adeleois, the latter managed to unite the Moon’aris, the sky worshippers, Thee satarins, and the planets worshippers to join him and aid him against those monsters, who will oppress anyone that does not convert to their religion.

All are united against the Sun’aris, The battle was fierce, bloody, merciless for the Sun’aris and yet they couldn’t win at all, because, they weren’t strong and united enough to win against Adeleois and his allies, Adeleois announced that the previous Adeleois was Andreas’s father, He was shocked when he knew that Alexander killed his father. Andreas turned on Alexander, Thus, Rakan and Andreas are friends again.

In the end, Adeleois and his allies won, Adeleois banished Alexander from Mount Kythera, The latter went to another place where he can live with his beliefs and etc, he lived alone and died alone.

Thus, All races and other people who have different religions lived together and in peace, giving way to a new era of peace and harmony and prosperity among all other people and religions.

[elfboyeros]

Overcast Coastline

Read about the nerds and other nerds

“Klaus went missing on the 15th of March, Cobalt is murdered on the 23rd, 9 days later. Klaus was married to Greyson, Cobalt was a close friend, right? What if -just hear me out," Loki babbled on, as she and Amora sat on their bed talking about possible theories on Cobalt’s death, “Cobalt loved Greyson and wanted to be with him, but Klaus killed and went into hiding because he murdered someone?!”

“Cobalt?”  Amora asked the ghostly man sitting in her desk chair.

“Couldn’t have happened, I’m straight,” He replied, “I was also happily married to my lovely Primrose before death.”

Amora shook her head before looking back at Loki, “Straight, and happily married.”

“So, no love affair and no girlbossing wife,” Loki sighed, crossing off the theories of a list in a little notebook, “The last thing I got on my list is Ms. Thornton, could she have done it?”

“No!” Cobalt exclaimed, “Just as I loved Primrose, I loved Lilybeth just as much if not more! She would not have killed me; I refuse that notion!”

Amora shook her once more, “He wouldn’t believe it if it were true,” she replied, “Besides he’s seen Lilybeth, and he doesn’t have a bad vibe… he just gets sad.”

“I’ve died and my daughter has become a beautiful young lady, I’m sorry my depression is an inconvenience,” Cobalt sassed.

“I think we should stop for right now,” Amora sighed, “This is just getting us nowhere.”

Loki huffed, “Maybe we are looking in the wrong place?” she questioned, getting a confused look from Amora and even Cobalt, “We are trying to link Klaus with Cobalt, yet we know nothing about Klaus, maybe if we start looking into Klaus when can find out why he is missing which could lead to us finding out why Cobalt died.”

“So, we have to find Klaus,” Amora asked.

“Basically,” Loki answered making Amora groan into her pillow, “Or at least try to.”

“How are we supposed to do that?! We are students, moreover, we are seniors?! How the hell are we supposed to find an old man who has been missing for 15 years when we’ll have midterms in like 3 weeks!” Amora exclaimed sitting up before gesturing to Cobalt, “I’d rather be stuck with him! At least he’ll tell me if I’m failing my Trigonometry final!”

Cobalt shook his head before scoffing as Loki held in her laughter, clearing her throat, “Maybe you just need a little break for the ghost investigations,” the British girl posed, “Come with me into town tomorrow.”

“I thought you were going out with Lance,” Amora muttered.

Loki shrugged, “he said he wanted to hang out with Odis, and Luther said he was going to study with Iphigenie for their current events test, so I’m on my own tomorrow unless you come.”

Amora thought for a moment, spending 2 weeks on campus with Cobalt over her shoulder with no results in their little investigation seemed to put both of them on edge with each other. The thought was nice, being able to explore the town on Solostica would be nice too. The American girl looked to her ghostly companion who shrugged as if to say he didn’t care either way.

“I mean either way I’m going,” Loki remarked, holding a large strand of her hair, the green dye faded a good amount making it a sickly pale color, “I’m getting this hair dye!”

“I’ll go with you.”

Loki smiled, “Terrific!”

The next morning the two girls woke up after sleeping in, Cobalt did what he had been doing every morning, exiting the room to give them privacy, before they left. While walking down the paths leading to the exit of campus, Calliope passed by seeming running for her life.

“Calliope, everything okay?”

“Yeah,” She huffed, her cheerleading bag slamming into her side as she looked back at the two girls, “If anyone asked you didn’t see me!”

Loki and Amora looked at her confused as she ran to the main campus, she was already for cheerleading practice and yet she was running away from where they normally practice, the roommates looked at each other and shrugged before leaving campus, as Calliope ran through the halls of the large schoolhouse, slowing her pace as she reached the great music room were Odysseus, Lance, and Solomon resided inside. Solomon played the harp in the corner as Odysseus sat on one of the choir risers beside Lance, his light blue Guitar in his lap.

“Calliope, everything okay?” Lance asked, her panting at the door to the music room catching his attention.

Solomon stopped playing as all three of the boys waited for a response.

“I was the first one at practice today!” she huffed, “No one else was there. So, ha…. Huh… ha I left.”

“Calliope, if you want to quit the cheer team—” Solomon began because Calliope let out a laugh.

“And piss off Cassiopeia, not a chance!” Calliope replied, “I do that just by existing.”

“And skipping practice,” Odysseus commented, “Either way she is going to be pissed off at you.”

“The only reason she started the cheer team was to watch Roux practice football,” She huffed, “I don’t know why I had to be involved.”

She toddled over to Solomon’s place in the corner, dejectedly, “If it bothers you this bad, just quit,” Solomon remarked.

“If you quit, you can actually but in the campaign again!” Lance added with a smile, “I’ve missed Ruelle the cleric ever since the last time you played with us.”

Calliope smiled, “That’s a great idea.”

In the town center of Solostica’s city center with its cobblestone streets and its many small and hidden shops and convenience stores Loki and Amora stared at the many boxes, containers, tubes, jars, and pouches of hair on the shelf in front of them. All are color-coded and pleasing to the eye. Many brands Amora had never heard of before.

“I wish I had hair like yours,” Loki sighed.

“Mhm?” Amora hummed.

The British girl pointed to her roots, growing in a dark color of her roots where her green pieces used to be after tossing a boxed bleach in her little basket, “I need to get a bleach kit so the green will take on roots. If you dyed your hair any kind of fun colors, you wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh,” Amora replied, chuckling, “Bellamy dyed her once, it was purple. I remember asking my mom if I could dye my hair with her because she said it looked “so bad” and I remember it started a huge argument with my mom… she did not want me to dye my hair.”

Loki hummed, before pointing to all the boxes of hair dye, “Wanna give it a try?” she asked with a smirk painted across her lips, “’cause mummy isn’t here.”

Amora looked at all the hair dyes on the shelf, then back at Loki, who grinned down at her, “Alright! Let’s do it!” she replied, grabbing a random box off the shelf.

“Alright, but we don’t want to use that,” Loki replied, taking the box out of Amora’s hands and putting it back on the shelf, “If you want red, you should go with this one.”

Loki pulled a small box off the shelf with a simple pale green color and labeled named Deathly dyes, the color was called Lover’s Haze. Amora nodded as Loki looked at the green section before quickly grabbing a jar from the same brand but in a dark green color and walking toward the check-out counter.

They left the little convenience store before venturing around the town center some more, going into different little stores and shops not really buying anything but enjoying being off campus as well as each other's company.

Stopping by Vixen Café to grab a little something to eat, while also getting to see Iphigenie in action at work and Luther sitting outside working on a paper for one of his classes, aided by caffeine and chocolate croissant.

While stopped at an intersection, Amora stared at the beach which Loki noticed.

“You wanna go to the beach?” Loki asked.

Amora nodded and once the intersection was clear to cross, the two of them headed to the beach. Shoes were taken off and bags were dropped by the cement walk leading to the sands. Clean beige sand between their toes, with the smell of sea salt in the air and a light breeze.

Loki watched Amora from afar as she enjoyed the breeze and the salty air against her face. There is something so scenic about Amora, wearing a genuine smile as she heard the sounds of the ocean and waves crashing into the shore, enjoying the breeze as it moves her cardigan. Loki had never been fond of the beach, life events had turned memories of going to the beaches in England into reminiscences said rather not think about, however now staring at Amora the beach is no longer a place Loki wants to stay away from, rather a place she wants to stay if nothing above to keep seeing Amora smile a genuine smile.

But the skies won’t let wants become reality

“Amora we should get going!” Loki called, “It’s going to rain!”

Once at the back on campus, it was already drizzling, and when in the safety of their dorm room, pulling one of the girl's desk chairs into the bathroom, and sitting it in front of the sink and mirror.

“Is he around?” Loki asked, pulling out all the hair dye and other tools on the bathroom counter after bleaching the front pieces of her hair.

“No, he's probably still mad from yesterday,” Amora answered as she put on an old shirt the British girl gave her before hearing her scoff, “Or he’s just wandering.”

“Come sit,” Loki called as Amora made her way to the bathroom.

Amora entered the bathroom where Loki had some of her favorite music playing at a low volume, in an extremely old shirt covered in blotches of bleach and a pair of gym shorts, waiting for the young American girl a hand resting on the desk chair beside her and a foot resting against her calf.

“You wanna do the whole head or just a section?” Loki asked as Amora sat down.

“Uhm….I don’t know, what do you think?” Amora replied.

Loki hummed softly, “Let’s do your bangs, and your little front pieces, yeah?”

Amora nodded, as Loki opened the Lover’s Haze box and quickly read the instructions before plopping the dye into a mixing bowl, “Ready?” Loki asked.

“Yeah!”

Loki took the hair dye brush and began painting the pinkish dye on to Amora golden strains of hair, “Is Cobalt annoying at all?” the British teen asked.

“I mean sometimes, he makes math harder than it should be,” Amora answered, “Honestly he acts like my dad. Not like my dad, but he acts like a dad, which I know he is one, but we’ve only known each other for like a month he’s very fatherly, protective almost.”

Loki hummed curiously, “Like when I was in the library trying to figure out how to help him the talk I told you about everything, the Librarian—”

“Iphigiene’s weird ass mom?”

“Yes! He knocked over a stack of books to help me escape just to yell at me when I was safe!”

Loki chuckled, “And he’s an ass!” Amora groaned, “Telling me my math isn’t right when I do my homework but he won’t tell me what I’m doing wrong! And and and he makes little comments when I’m talking to people like his commentary is soooo important!”

“Oh! What does he say about me?” Loki asked, walking around her to get the other side of her hair.

“Chickadee, do you know, Loki stares at you often?”

“Have you realized that you are the only person she actively smiles at?”

“Loki seems fond of you.”

“Aw, she gave you her jumper because you were cold.”

“You too are quite cute together.”

Amora’s face flushed, remembering just a few of the many things that Cobalt had commented over the past two weeks, the all-around consuming feeling of simply enjoying being around Loki. The overwhelming feeling of a crush!

“H-he just make comments about... how helpful you are,” Amora answered, fumbling with her words before jumping at her phone ringing.

A single windchime emoji on the caller ID for a video call, answering Bellamy’s call with a smile and rosy cheeks, “Hey girly, what does Edgar like to play he hates the puff balls Jane likes to play with. I--” Amora could only see Bellamy’s light blue roots once she answered the call, before she looked at her phone wide-eyed, “WOAH! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE DYING YOUR HAIR?! And where did you get that shirt?”

Amora looked down at the shirt she was wearing to protect her skin from bright red hair dye,  a faded black T, and the graph for the band Oasis horribly faded. “It’s Loki’s, we’re doing this kind of spontaneity.”

“ ‘Ello Bellamy,” Loki commented, grabbing Amora’s bangs.

“Shit, she’s British!” Bellamy squealed, “Eee, your girlfriend is such a cutie, Amora!”

“Girlfriend?” Loki mused, “What have you been telling her, lovely?”

“Bella! She isn’t my girlfriend, she is my roommate!” Amora shrieked her face turning the same color as her hair dye.

“Roommate, girlfriend same different,” Bellamy shrugged.

“I like her already,” Loki muttered with a smirk.

“Amora what does Edgar like to play with?”

“Uhm… He likes the crinkly toys.”

“Got it got it,” Bellamy replied while throwing a couple of toys in her cart, “Is ther anything else I need to get for the boy, besides his special wet food?”

“I don’t think so,” Amora replied, “How are things back home?”

“Reese got kicked out of school,” Bellamy answered nonchalantly.

“WHAT!”

“Yeah,” Bellamy shrugged, “Mortemore had been shit-talking him since everything happened, Reese decided to punch him out in the hallway, and he got his ass expelled.”

 Loki clicked her tongue, “Serves him right,” she mumbled.

“I told Mortemore I would bake him a coffee cake,” Bellamy added, “As a thank you.”

“Oh, he’ll love that!” Amora replied with a small smile.

“All right, I only called to see what Edgar liked to play with,” Bellamy remarked, “I’ll text you later!”

“Bye Bellamy,” Amora replied, hanging up her phone.

Loki finally set the hairbrush in the sink, “You need to sit with it for 30 minutes.”

Amora nodded, getting up and leaving the bathroom, “What have you been telling Bellamy, for her to call me your girlfriend?” Loki chucked putting her head in the sink bowl.

Amora’s face became hotter, before covering her face, “I HAVEN’T TOLD HER ANYTHING!” She yelped, “I just told her that I had a grungecore roommate that was nicer then I thought, and I told her about hanging out with you during school!”

Loki hummed raising her head out of the sink, “You look cute when are all flustered,”  she remarked with a smirk before putting her head back in the sink.

Amora blushed even more before going to sit on her bed and wait for the time to wash her the dye out of her hair as Loki dyed her hair green. Once everything was all said and done, Amora stared at herself in the mirror her bangs and the large chunks of hair that she kept resting off her shoulders a nice pinky-red color.

“You like it?” Loki asked.

“Yeah!” Amora said with a smile, “Thanks Loki.”

“Anytime, lovely.”

Once cozy in her bed in the early morning Amora left a heavy weight on top of her, groggily waking up to the intense stare of Cobalt an odd and wicked grin, “I have a lead!”

[rubberduckyrye]

I need you all to understand that:

WaveMaker is an awesome program and it actually shows you how many words you've written in a day! Please check it out I'm in love with it. Also here is my Tutorial on how to manually sync up your files so you can write your projects on any device. It also copies and pastes well into Gdocs and LibreOffice. No I will not shut up about how cool this online program thing is.

It has only been March 30th for about 5 hours and I've already written almost 3k words.

Have I--Have I found the insanity again? Can I write 12k words in a single day???? I'm almost a 4th of the way there--