#original wiritng

[shy-chimera]

The Meadow

Have you heard of the meadow? Just past the lightning scarred tree, If you take a left at the tire in the creek, And keep walking into sundown, You’ll find it, right there. A clearing so wide, you can’t miss it. Yet, puzzling as to why you haven’t seen it before.

Flowers of every color are woven into the grass Pollen bumbles in the air, Butterflies and bees playing hopscotch in the weeds, Light shining from the ring of mushrooms that surround.

And right at the center, Within a patch of dead earth Is a glowing silver stone, Scared with names and painted with prayers.

They say if you manage to reach it, Put your hand on it, And say your name, It will curse you with knowledge Of what you most wanted to know.

If you happen to get past The vomiting of you own blood, It will give you the chance, To forfeit your name, Sealing it forever into the stone.

And if you’re lucky enough to survive The meadow growing cold as the wind swirls around Tugging you into the center- If you manage to outrun the voices, That now possess your name, They might let you play a game.

You can pass your fate onto someone else, Tell them of the meadow, giving them the trail if they dare- You can gamble with your fates, and hope their luck isn’t as good as yours-

So what say you? Do seek the meadow? Do you possess a curiosity so grand, you’ll tempt fate to know all you haven't known before?

[valemrsn]

pearl diver, a new poem :3

[the-scouts-codex]

Next part has been updated!

It's Ruggie's time to shine. The next part to my Glorious Masquerade Fic, "May I have this dance?" Has been updated. You can find it here on Tumblr or on Ao3. My name is the same on both sites.

The work: "Dance with me!"

My master list: Night Raven Codex

[heyitsmeyourfavoritechick]

I saw galaxies in your eyes

It was nice for me to lay under too

How the stars connect to each other like family on thanksgiving

And how the nebulas dance like teenagers on prom night

The clouds chime in just to add that bit of razzle dazzle

Oh how I got lost in those eyes

And I can’t seem find my way back

Maps are useless to the sands of time

But I don’t mind

I have the clouds, I have the stars even nebulas to admire

If anything it seems like I found my perfect world.

In your eyes.

☆:˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

[tuliplips2]

[harmonyverendez]

Ooooo a new chapter of my original book/work is coming soon!.

Finally got up and wrote a chapter.

😁😁😁

[artandanarchy]

Funky lil dude who’s the main character in a script I’m writing

[thatgenderfluidmonstrosity]

A poem for TOH

Some stuff isn’t all that great, but a rhyme schemes gonna rhyme scheme

First to learn, and there in death

Choosing kindness in your final breath

A lesson to learn for the bravest child

and Magic made from all the wild

From bone to light

and light to earth

Return to home

and find your Hearth

The light above guiding those who wait

and quiet ones of stone and slate

Power granted from the past

To help you win in the final blast,

but not long will last this ancient power,

yet I know you will not cower

So go forth now in their time of need

Be it you, who will succeed

And you, for whom I made this pun

I loaf you, my last son

[lexanator3000]

WIP!

helloooooo! so I had this idea in my head, and im not sure if it's worth pursuing! if yall could just tell me if this is something that you or somebody you know would be interested in, please lmk! also, not mean critiques are welcome! without further ado, here it is!!

Anastasia. How does one explain her? Simple; happy. She had been on this earth for thousands of years and has grown to love almost all of it. Now, as she pours her cup of tea which is always the perfect temperature, she thinks about what she will do that day. Maybe pop on down to the farmers market, or better yet, go visit an art gallery. As she decides what to do with her day, she takes a sip of her tea. A simple gesture, really. One thousands of people do in the morning. But when she does, it burns her mouth. She practically throws the cup down out of shock, effectively spilling the tea she had just made. Strange. Her tea has never burned her mouth. She quickly grabs paper towels to mop up her mess as she tries to recall the last time she had this experience. She soon realized this was the first time something even slightly like this had happened. She looks at her phone.

10:32

What? She checks again. The same numbers show as she quickly gets up and runs to her bathroom. She’s going to be late. She is never late. Time has never been an issue, it always seems to work out in her favor, she didn’t even think to check the time! She hurriedly gets ready and puts on her signature red lipstick. Humans have made many marvelous things, but this seems to be her favorite. She applies it quickly and practically runs out the door when she is done. 

She gets in her car and reaches in her bag for her keys. Dammit! She thinks she left them inside. Three incidents, back to back, that have never occurred before. Now, to a simple human one could chalk it up to a bad day, but Anastasia is not a simple human. She is the embodiment of good, of light, simply living amongst mortals. She grabs her keys from inside and dashes back out to her car. As she’s driving, she turns on the radio. Her favorite song is playing. Finally, something is going right. She thinks as she hums along. Anastasia’s thoughts start to drift to the events of the morning. She can’t recall any of these things happening in her lengthy existence. She pulls up to her favorite cafe and parks perfectly, flowers starting to bloom in the cracks that she walks over when she exits her vehicle. As she walks in, she pulls out her phone and dials the number of somebody who she dreads calling, and Anastasia dreads very few things.

Samael. One would not struggle to describe him, he is simply: dreadful. He has existed beside Anastasia since the dawn of time. He is her opponent, the pure embodiment of evil, of bad, of death. 

Currently, he has been in a deep sleep for the past week. A pro of being immortal: you don’t need to eat. He loves to, sure, but something about sleep is just so good. Sam is very displeased (which isn't unusual) when he is awoken by the ringtone of his phone. Sam goes from displeased to confused very quickly, as he had set his phone to silent. The fog of sleep starts to disappear from his mind as he realizes his phone only overrides his silencing for one person: Annie. He quickly reaches for his phone and momentarily pats himself on the back for his correct guess before answering it,

“What’s wrong?” He asks urgently, not letting her get a word in trying to disguise whatever that is happening as good. She scoffs, “You know, why can’t you ever just assume something is good? Maybe I’m calling to let you know something amazing just happened.” She teases, voice dripping in disdain. 

He groans. He really isn’t in the mood for her to pretend like everything is okay when it clearly is not. “Because you only call me if something is wrong, and I have a busy day and don’t want to deal with your blabbering about the ‘greater good’” He mocks her tone when he quotes one of their many debates. She sighs, “Okay, fine. You win.” She pauses. He pauses. Anastasia is many things, but she has never been one to admit defeat. Even in such a silly manner, both pause at the sentence before she speaks again, “Er- Sorry. I don’t know why I said that, for you would never win. But, I’m calling to see if anything has been right with you- like in the way something would be wrong for me.” She asks, her voice suddenly becoming muffled as she walks into the cafe. 

He thinks, has it? He had good dreams, but that had never been out of the ordinary, “What do you mean dove?” Has something happened to her? She has never asked anything like this, and she usually doesn’t sound so tired. He bites back the urge to ask if she’s okay because he knows deep down that if she wasn’t, she would come to him. They always have. Being the only two immortal beings tends to build a bond neither of them could resist.  She sits down at her table with an audible thud. “Never mind, go back to sleep, Sam. I’ll call you later, be safe.” She hangs up the phone before he could retort at her caring remark. Which is exactly what he was doing before he realized she had hung up, leaving him sitting in his bed, talking to nobody. He thinks about the conversation and is left with the question, How did she know I just woke up? Even when his questions should be more along the lines of, Should I go check on her?

tadaa! andddd scene!

[starlightinhumanform]

I had this friend and I would sleepover at her house so often it just made more sense for me to sleep in her bed. It was big enough for both of us. But I would wake up in the middle of the night (I was always a light sleeper) and think about putting my leg over hers and holding her back close to my chest. I would think about brushing the hair out of her face. I thought it was normal. I loved her so goddamn much, even though even though it was unhealthy, even though it was codependent. We we're two snakes eating each others tails. Even though she treated me like shit. Even when she pushed me against the lockers because I walked with someone else instead of her. I had her eyes memorized, had mapped the flecks of gray in the blue.

We stopped talking in high school but I learned from another girl (who had the same name as her) that the first boy she loved cheated on her. But I think we all know he wasn't really the first.

I came over so often I still know where the spoons are in her kitchen. I know the layout of her house and the way one of the closest doors doesn't shut right. Her parents always loved me. I was witty and smart, but I knew when to shut up and act timid. I was what they never trained their daughter to do. I was what their daughter trained me to do. Her parents have gotten divorced since then. They've probably moved out of that house. The hinge on the closet door has probably been fixed. But it's still broken to me.

I would tell jokes I thought were stupid, just to see her laugh. I know the roundness of her cheeks and the thickness of her hair and how her lips always looked soft. When my lips were chapped, she would offer me Vaseline. There was a specific type of chapstick I used when I loved her; I still can't stand the scent today.

For a long time, I hated her. I hated the way she made me feel about myself and the things she did to me. Most of all I hated that I couldn't stop loving her. But I love the person I am today and she had a hand in that creation. She shaped me and molded me and forced me to grow past her. The soft clay of my body is dented with uncountable handprints; many of them are hers.

Sometimes I wonder about her. I wonder if I even touched her at all.

[shy-chimera]

The wind dances across a small pond in the middle of a clearing, creating ripples where it kisses the water, before racing between flowers, scattering a multitude of petals into the air. As the wind takes a short leave, a kaleidoscope of petals takes the stage for an encore. Each dancing petal slowly twirls down and around the clearing, some landing on rocks, others sailing across the pond. They bypass the ramshackled homes, each one going to pay respect at the unmarked graves within the forgotten clearing, saying hello to the poppies carefully planted there so long ago.

As the sun starts to draw close the curtains for the day, and just before night takes on its role, whispers crescendo through the clearing. Whispers of loss and vengeance find their place between the tombstones, words of love and devotion within the forgotten homes. By the rocks resides oaths of protection and breathless devotion, and by the pond, laughter and fond memories can be found.

As the last light of day fades, the moon bathes the pond into silver light. The wind returns, carrying the petals and guiding the whispers into a spell, where they take shape as two figures in an endless dance across the pond. Their footsteps glide across the silver stage, twirling in and out of the moonlight, the swaying flowers their captivated audience. Pangs of loss and vengeance, forgotten homes and death, can no longer touch them here. Their faint laughter plays a melody that rings throughout the clearing,

Finally free, and together once more.

[paradiecircus]

Remember this? Another high anticipation in what’s to come next moment lol guys Mine is at over 100 kudos so thanks to y’all for reading and following my crazy story 🥰🥰🥰

That’s so dope that even one person likes it, let alone a hunned! I’m working on wrapping it up soon, hopefully this year or early January

[the-scouts-codex]

Asks are open.

I think its time that I open my Asks Box. Feel free to ask things about my Twst OC, my writing, my art, my thoughts etc.

[grumpys-blank-worddocument]

High King An’thirion Sunreaver, Second Elven High King

On the origins of the Canrai:

The people that later came to refer to themselves as Canrai and Durathrai or High Elves and Dark Elves by the other races of the world, always had firey spirits. Seeking knowledge and understanding of the world and its workings and expansion when the world was still young. This however went against the believes of the Minrai, elves that believe they did not come to this world to advance, and meddle in outside affairs.

So a split happened in the ancestral home of the elves, wich the Minrai refer to as “the divination of the natural path.”

Those that deviated, advanced, discovered arcane magic and started building armies under harsh and unforgivingly brutal training. Developing a warrior culture that persists to this day. But so does thier thirst for knowledge, progress and true understanding of the workings of the world.

[tuliplips2]

What Depression is

Depression is being in a stagnant state. As when you are Confined to your solitude. As when blues, greys, and all hues from white to black are following from behind. As when winter never ends and spring is yet to come, And soon enough your tears will have run out of salt.

Depression is always being cold and yet to find a source of warmth. As when the flick of the light is far from reach.

@mystiswords

[olliaus]

There's This Girl

hey! this is a random story i just wrote, i have ideas on expanding it but this is it so far. any constructive feedback would be helpful! hope you like it!

The hurried breath, the quiet sobs, music to my ears. I am a creation of shadows and fear, and my god does this human have a lot of it. It’s beautiful. Her being will be a part of the shadows soon enough.

I’ve backed her into a corner now, she stands on shaky legs, cowering, delicious. I await her final plea, as all are different and some are even funny.

“Please,” as expected, “please, help me.”

…not as expected. What?

“If you can understand me…please, help me.”

She’s still quietly sobbing, still shaking, yet she’s asking for help. From me. A creature which she should be petrified from. It makes me pause, unwillingly, and she seems to take it as a sign to keep talking.

“You can kill me,” She says hurriedly, as if that wasn’t already going to happen. It’s nice to have permission, I suppose. “But please help me get out of this house. That man is not my dad, I don’t know how much longer I have here but I’m not dying by his hands or in his house. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

That…is a strong confession.

I shrink my size down to what humans would consider normal before addressing the one before me. Her eyes followed my movement, tracking every small detail and shift of my form, still assessing my threat level. 

She’s smart, I have to give her that. Or just monumentally stupid. But this is interesting.

“You ask a being you couldn’t previously fathom into existence a moment ago, for help.” My voice sounds static, and the girl flinches, obviously hearing but now the fun part, does she understand? Cause if she doesn’t, well, what am I waiting around for?

She looks at me again with a look of concentration, before quietly responding, “Yes.”

She is stupid then.

I can’t help but laugh and the human flinches again, static probably filling her head. Oh well. She can understand me!

This is interesting. Fascinating, if you will. Though, now I have to wonder, how dire is this girl's situation that she’s asking me for help? Am I the only– I’m not even a living thing. Am I the first anything with a conscience this girl has seen in… well, what knows how long. Above, that’s… smart on this supposed ‘dad's’ side. Though, not so great for the girl. I could team up with the dad– no, that wouldn’t work, the girl’s clearly not that afraid of me anymore. Not that she couldn’t be again, but it just doesn’t feel natural.

I look at her again and really look, this time. She’s moved from standing to sitting with her back against the wall, knees drawn up in futile protection. She has her arms crossed in front of her, hunched shoulders, trying to make herself smaller. She has sleep shorts and a tank top on, short curly hair in a bob with bangs, tattoos decorate her arms in swirling patterns and eyes and symbols that I don’t feel like deciphering right now. The tattoos are cool though. Now I’m looking more closely, there are also bruises that line her wrists and arms, and a quick look at her legs shows the same thing. 

Oh. 

Uhhh. I am way out of my element here. 

“Listen kid,” another flinch, but she recovers fairly quickly this time, “I kinda just kill people, not get into their personal business.”

She huffs out a breath, which, wow, ok. Someone’s feeling brave. “God fucking dammit, fine whatever, then go kill him and let me kill myself in peace.”

She then starts to get up from the wall before I stop her, “Woah, wait, what? Ok,” But she’s already moving around me to apparently do whatever it was she was doing before I showed up and tried to kill her. 

I turn around to follow her but she’s already talking again, “I mean,” she scoffs, “I have spent so long playing my cards right, getting him to trust me enough to not have to sleep with a chain on. I have been playing his game just how he wants me to and now when I finally have a plan to escape everything, you come along and mess everything up!” She’s over to the storage shelves now, working herself up while still being quiet. A survival strategy, I realise.

“I mean, it was perfect! All I had to do was wait for a while without the chain so he could see I wouldn’t do anything, I had to fucking starve myself so I wouldn’t be weakened by whatever drugs he was putting in my food. I have to come down here, find out whatever medicines he’s giving me, go outside and overdose on the strongest one.” She pauses and takes a breath before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a set of keys, “I even got the fucking keys to all the deadbolts on the door,” her voice cracks as she starts to silently sob.

I stay quiet. What are you supposed to say to that? Here I was, just hoping to get a little treat on my way home and now there's this girl who would rather die on her own terms instead of being killed by something else. 

Which, love the will, but really. Now I feel like I have to be the one to get her. I mean, I’ve listened to her sob story, and it’s pretty good, plus! She even gave me a deal and who could possibly say no to a deal like that?

“I accept your deal.”

She starts, like she had forgotten I was there, which doesn’t usually happen, “What?”

“I accept your deal. To help you escape, then to kill you.”

She smiles at me, “Really?”

It’s said with so much hope, that I feel something inside of me that I don’t recognize and quickly shove to the side.

“I have nothing better to do.” Sadly, the truth. 

The relief on her face makes me feel awkward, how desperate is this girl to be grateful for me?

Before she can say anything else, the door to the basement slams open and with the light it provides I can see the girl’s face clearer. She has tan skin and freckles that line her cheeks and nose, she has green eyes, brown hair and circle glasses. Not the worse human I’ve ever seen.

The light also means that I can see all the color leave from the girl’s face as terror takes over.

“Pixie.”

…

Why is there more fear on her face right now, then when she first saw me?