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to yearn for a mythI am not afraid of the Grim Reaper,
the hollow-eyed bone man in the night black cloak
come to collect me with his scythe
and let me, without the burden of my flesh,
twist myself around his gnarled fingers
or press my face against his ribs and inhale the ashes
the empty odor of an autumn chill.
But I am afraid of the absence of a Reaper,
the fact that there is no man like him,
no one that will hold me close
and take me where I need to be; there is
only a tall pine box and dirt and the Conquerer Worm
and the fact that I will become in body
what I have always been in mind:
nobody and nothing at all
to be like this to be like this is
to walk a living death;
or to die again with every inadvertent breath
while rigor mortis petrifies the bones,
useless muscles under pallid flesh,
every breath is slow, is w e a k,
digesting rotten air in
and I can't s p e a k with you
any more than satan speaks with God
I'm too - -
too tired to maintain this
He decorates graves with stolen flowersI watched from nearby.
He was here again, and he was sad. Flowers of all kinds wilted in his grasp. Tighter, tighter he clutched them as tears prickled his eyes.
"You're choking them," I told him, but he didn't listen. He hadn't listened to me in years (though he certainly spoke to me a lot). The flowers' frayed stems told me he hadn't bought these. He never had the money to spare, anyway. I wanted to tell him not to waste his time ripping flowers from the neighbor's garden on my behalf, but it probably wouldn't have stopped him.
He kneeled in the grass. I smiled, though I wanted to cry (and would have, if I could have).
"I'm right here," I whispered. (All he heard was a fluttering leaf in the gentle breeze.)
"These are for you," he said. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and gently placed the suffocated flowers by my head.
"You crushed them again," I laughed. (All he heard was the creak of the black gate.)
Just as the wind began to pick up, he leaned over and ki
The Traveler and the PoetThere was a poet on the train that evening. At that hour, he was the only one in this car. Only one train ran this late into the night.
(On occasion, it would thunderstorm, and the raindrops pelted the train like a drum. Drrrum, drrrrrrrrum. Accented by the thunder, it was practically a symphony. The poet did like those nights.)
There was a time when the poet could sit alone, gaze out the window, contemplate the darkness. He could dream. He could nightmare.
(His eyes never stopped wandering. In the daytime, they ran to the horizon and back; they skipped among flowers, climbed trees, met new people, greeted old friends, and then returned to their owner on the train. At night, they plunged fearlessly into the abyss, not really looking for anything. And the poet saw everything.)
His alone days came to an end when the words began to overflow. They practically oozed from his pores. They ran from his lips every time he spoke. They graced his ears when he listened. They lived in secret places
My Tin SoldiersIt was a raindrop symphony
Performed on roof shingles,
Accompanied by thunder
And sweet wind chime jingles.
Plagued by monsters behind
Tip-tapping tree fingers,
I fled from my nightmares
Where the real beast lingers.
I ran to my toy chest that
Lay off in the distance
And sought the tin soldiers'
Defense and assistance.
With their tin hands and rifles
They fought off the noises;
The tip-tapping and splish-splashing
And whispering voices.
Battling on the windowsill,
I bundled up with a sigh,
So glad my tin soldiers
Are much braver than I.
MadnessI handed him the "Help Wanted" poster with quivering hands. I needed this job. I screwed up everything, and this was my chance to get back on track. In the silence, my mind wandered, dragging my thoughts to hope for the best. I peered over my glasses at the old man who was scanning my résumé.
At last, he looked up at me and laughed. "No experience?" he asked with his white moustache waggling as he spoke.
I shook my head. "Sorry," I said, a sheepish smile pasted across my face. I couldn't have wiped it away if I tried.
"Good!" cried the old man Alfred.
I heaved a sigh of relief.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Tanith!" I exclaimed, reaching out to shake his trembling hand.
"Not quite yet," Alfred Tanit
Commission Atem x reader To be wed [1/3]
Commission Atem x reader To be wed [1/3]
(You will be the princess of the niles. You are 15 years old, you have long [h/c] hair, and [e/c] eyes.)
You lied on your bed curled up on a ball crying.
“Why?... Why does it have to be me?.... And why now?”
“W-what?” You stood in front of your father not believing what he just told you.
“I’m sorry my dear daughter but I had no choice. In a few days you will be sent off in a few days to be married off to the Pharaohs son Atem. With this marriage we’ll gain more land.
“But father, I don’t want to marry for that. I want to marry out of love. Also I don’t want to marry someone that I don’t even know.”
“ENOUGH! YOU ARE GOING TO MARRY THE PRINCE OF EGYPT IF YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!”
“I don’t want to marry. At Least not yet.” There was a knock at your door. “GO AWAY!”
“[Y/n] It’s your mother.” You s
11th Doctor X Reader: Steampunk“So let me get this straight. There’s a planet called Janus, where the citizens are look like humans, they’re dressed steampunk style 24/7, and we’re headed there right now?”
“Yep!” the Doctor said. “And, we have just landed!”
“Great!” you said, running down one of the TARDIS’s hallways.
“Oi! (y/n)! Where are you going?”
“Getting dressed-won’t be long!”
“That’s what you always say,” the Doctor murmured in a whisper that was too quiet for you to hear.
You finally made it to the TARDIS’s wardrobe, and started searching for the perfect outfit. Your passion for steampunk began when your friends took you to a steampunk festival, and you saw the beautiful outfits they wore. You were a writer, and you wanted to be clothes designer, so it seemed like the perfect world to escape to. After that day, you started drawing your own steampunk dress. You had been saving up your
Untitled bug attack"Semyon!"
"You have to protect me, there's a creep in here!"
"There's a bug!"
"You want me to protect you from an insect?"
"It's freaking me out!"
"It's huge and it's flying around near my head, I hear how its wings are beating really loudly and it almost attacked me!"
"And what, did you lose a leg?"
"No but it sat on my arm and when I tried to wave it away it came at me all freaky and crazy!"
"Sounds real tough, you think I can handle it?"
"Don't make fun of me I'm really scared of him!"
"Oh so it's a he now."
"Don't mess with me!"
"Fine, relax. I'll protect you from the bug, and any other possible bugs that might be hiding in this room. Happy?"
"Thank you. And make sure it doesn't come near my face when I'm sleeping. Or touch my body!"
"I shall guard your body with my life, fair maiden. No vicious bugs shall set foot near it."
"Can I trust you?"
"Then stop smirking like that you creepy bastard!"
tu mejor amiga y tu viven juntas ya que sus padres murieron y tu madre la adocto como hija ahora son hermanas a ustedes 2 les encantan los Creppy son muy fantaticas despues de un tiempo su madre les cumple un sueño de ustedes 2 y las manda a un internado hasta que cumplas los 18.
Pero por cosa del destino ese mismo internado esta lleno de todos los personajes que se pasan horas leyendo, los creepypastas.
Parece que todo va bien hasta que descubres que te enamoras de 3 chicos si hablo de Eyeless Jack, Masky y Hoodie y ella de Jeff The Killer y Ticci Toby y tienen que decidir con cual quedarse... ¿A quien eligiran para estar en la CreepySchool?
______ (tu nombre y apellido) una chica simpatica agradable y dulce de pelo ______ (tu color de pelo) y ojos _____ (tu color de ojos) le encanta los Creppy las fiestas los paseos por el bosque le gusta la musica Pop y Romantica es un poco facil de enamorar tiene peluches de Eyeless Jack, Hoodie y Masky
Forgive Me My SinsFiro. I should talk to Firo. Firo will know.
It's all she can think. Maybe she's in shock. No, most likely she's in shock. She only wanted to make sure her brother was safe, after the terrible storm that had ripped through the land. And instead, she had been greeted with her brother dragging the corpse of her mate into camp so the rest could see it.
She hadn't even known who it was, at the time. Just another red-brown pelt and a pervasive sense of this is wrong.
But Iris knew. Iris had known who the cat was, and before long, Shi had as well.
She hadn't even known the name of her brother's mate. And she hadn't known, had no idea, that her beloved brother had settled down with his mate and had kits.
That was the hardest blow of all. All her own fears, swarming to the surface to feed, projecting onto her brother. They were young, they were so young, weren't they? Not even two seasons. Did either of them know how to care for kits? The
Chapter 1: PAGE 25At first everyone looked confused at the man, wondering why he thought they would follow him. “Well I am not sure about you, but I don´t trust him!” Dailon said on purpose very loud to Gaikor so everyone would hear him. “Besides…,” He said leaving a little pause to draw everyones attention. “…it is our duty to find out what is going on and help out where we can.” He said as more explosions followed and the sounds of screams and fighting started mixing with the noise.
Whether it was his tone of voice or his posture, but ever since he joined the Institute he noticed people tended to follow him for some reason. He found out that he could even turn over the most stubborn students and even teachers to his point. In this case were people were just confused it was surprisingly easy to rally them. That was the easy part though, now he needed to figure out what to do. They could not just storm into fray and all get killed. While noble that
La CreppySchool: Cap.1
POV. ______ (TN)
Estaba caminado por un pasillo oscuro en mi propia casa había sangre en las paredes y los focos se prendia y apagaban era como una esena de un pasillo del Exorsista mee da miedo esa palicula tenia que ser valiente me puse enfrente de la habitación de mi mama entre y vi a ella cubierta de sangre con los ojos en su mano sali de ahy y fui directo a la habitacion de Yeimi entre y la vi a ella tenia la piel palida el cabello negro como la noche y sus ojos tenial una mescla de maldad y miedo tenia un vestido blanco pero no elegante sino era uno de dormir y estaba todo manchado de sangre estaba en la esquina sentada
____: Yeimi estas bien -dije un poco temeroza pero ella no respondia me acerque a ella y la toque en el hombro y me miro con esos ojos dios esos ojos me tenian la piel de gallina y empeso a decir
Yeimi: uno dos juega conmigo tres cuatro cierra la puerta cinco seis vuelve otra vez ciete ocho mira bizcocho (Yo: tenia hambre y no se me ocurrio otr
Chapter 1: PAGE 23“The weird thing though is that every object we have recovered is twisted in a way we only have seen at the core of our planet. There are signs of extreme pressure and heat, though we cannot explain this exactly as the objects show no burn marks in a direct way. It feels more like the molecular structure of the items is changed somehow.” He said as he pulled out a something the size of a tennis ball and laid it flat on his hand showing it to the class. It seemed like an ordinary stone ball, except that it seemed to have been burned black and not really round.
“This is all that is left of a huge stone twice as big as this desk.” He said as he put the stone on his desk, which broke the moment he stopped supporting it. “It still has roughly the same weight as it did before. Yet during the few seconds of contact it was twisted into that little shape.” He said as he looked up to the class and inspected their faces. He had hoped he had intrigued them enoug
Whispers in the dark 2 | Episodio 22
Episodio 22: De nuevo separados
Pasó como una semana,y no volvieron a ver ni a Julius ni a Aracne,en el colegio no lo encontraban,a veces lo veían salir de clase pero no se hablaban.Un dia Adam decidió ir a por todas y paró a su amigo cuando salía de clase.
- Julius ¿qué te ocurre? -
- ¡¿Qué me ocurre?! ¡queréis destruir a mi novia! -
- Pero Julius ella es un dark,ni si quiera puede sentir algo,no tiene alma - dijo triste
- ¡Cállate! ¿vale? tú ya no eres mi amigo -
Se fue rápidamente y como por los pasillos pasa tanta gente Adam no pudo seguirlo con tanta prisa.Cuando salió al patio no estaba,asi que fue fuera del colegio y pudo pillarlo en una de las calles.
- Julius por favor,escúchame -
- No,¡te callas la boca! - gritó muy enfadado
- ¡Julius escucha! - le agarró del brazo - ¿qué prefieres una novia que no sie
That Christmas EveThere was snow blanketing every inch before us, white and soft while it crunched softly beneath our boots. We sniffled while our noses turned red from the chill, and suddenly everyone could sympathize with Rudolph. Rosy-cheeked children slid past on anything from brand new sledges to garbage can lids, laughing while they spun in the cleanest mess of ice, dodging trees and rocks and patches of dead weeds. It was not a pretty place, and yet it was beautiful, for the evening was beautiful, and the faces were beautiful, and the laughter was Christmas itself.
Father Christmas watched closely by, and a million tongues uttered his name while the sun touched the horizon, and its all-encompassing rays were blotted out by treetops and sticky snowflakes.
You may have caught the sound of bells, had you been standing where I stood on that Christmas Eve. You may have seen a flourish of red in the sky, carried by winter winds and reindeer of fantastic majesty. And you may have, for a moment, believed
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More