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The Sound of DesperationIt had started as a counseling session, everyone meeting in a small group of age mates, but even after the first meeting, when they sat in silence, it was clear that something more was needed. For weeks they continued to meet twice a week, forced to sit in a circle in a room that was locked until the hour was up. After a month, they began to speak, finally giving voice to the depths of their souls, and the nightmares that lived within.
"I could kid myself into thinking I'm fine," Becca said, her voice starting steady despite the fact that she was the first to break the silence, "but I'm not. I'm tired of living these lies, and I just want to be done with it all. Everyone knows that a broken heart is blind, but no one really knows what to do with a broken brain. If it's not a vegetable, they shrug it off, saying it's fine, and tell you to do the same. It doesn't work that way. It just doesn't work that way. They say our bodies will heal, and that it will take time for
Living DreamsIf life is but a dream, what does that make our dreams? And if, not by your own will, each day becomes more of a nightmare than the last, what is it that makes us keep on pushing through? When the question of life becomes why, rather than how we struggle on for the next day’s dawning, why doesn’t anyone realize what’s really going on? For too long we’ve played their game, by their rules, and today that ends. All my fears, all my fears, my insecurities, anything that might have been used against me- they all fall away like tears when I contemplate the fact that each tomorrow brings a new day, each twenty-four hours closer to freedom. We all know that they’ll try to choke our rising hopes with fleeting fears carefully crafted to appear our own, but the fact that we know them not to be our own is a stronger force yet. We may not march against our enemies, our captors, but we shall stand as a strong tower to protect those who cannot yet stand alone. One
Drianus's choiceHe reached into his pocket, slowly wrapping his long fingers into a fist around the ring of his forefathers. Contemplating his options only revealed that, in the long run, he really had no choice. Sometimes, the words echoed in his mind as he forcefully ignored the memories of his surrogate father, sometimes, the only way to fight evil was to employ a greater evil whether one agreed with it or not. By the end of the day, only one thing would really matter: whether or not the throne remained in the family line.
If took a season of exile for people to realize just how corrupted things had become, so be it. He had seen exile, and very nearly raised his family within it's cool embrace. Drianus had spent many long agonizing hours turning things over in his mind, hoping to find another way for things to change, but found nothing. He would face battle tomorrow, leading the best of his men into the fray without a second thought. If giving his life in battle was required of him, it
Part of the JobThe sun gently warmed his back as he walked along the crowded street. He knew, though, that the pleasant feeling would not last long once he entered the apothecary that stood as the entrance to the rest of the Guild Halls. There was a certain satisfaction in a job completed in a silent and efficient manner, but Mortael held fast to the lingering taste of bitter regret that always followed his thoughts. The darkness of night only expounded them when he had nothing else to keep his thoughts away from the realities of his chosen line of work. The taste of regret was, as far as he knew, the only way that he could maintain his tenuous grasp of rational sanity. Silently, the assassin slipped through the stone-lined walls where the shadows from the torches danced in his wake. None would bother him this day, not unless he took the initiative and reached out to them first. A disturbed assassin was not to be bothered so soon after a completed mission, no matter what the reason.
The Blood OathI bought my fate straight from hell. What you need to understand here and now is that this is the embodiment of our fear, the vessel of our rage, and the harbinger of your doom. It may seem like a cut and dry matter, especially to one such as yourself, but know that it is anything but. Everything that we do and say is focused around that one concept alone; the sooner you figure out what that means for yourself, the better, as you'll actually start to fit in with us, strange as we are to your kind. My fate, the mirrored reflection of the fate of my people, is one that circumvents generations at a time, insidious weaving its way through our history. This oath, whether you acknowledge it or not, will affect your every dying day as we attempt to make the best of what's been left for us in this wasted world.
I chose my fate the day that I answered the king's call with heart and soul, and I now pay the price for what I have done in answering the Blood Oath's infernal need fo
Returning HomeI woke up to despise the world that I once loved. The sound of the fan in the next room is deceptively similar to the sound of the gentle rain that has gently woken me these past few mornings. For one blissful moment longer, I can pretend that things have not changed, and that when I open my eyes, the dim autumn lights will be filtered through the thick canvas wall of my rug lined pavilion. The thought is a comforting one until the undisturbed quiet is broken by the harsh blaring of my painfully electronic alarm, reminding me that cannot be so.
Blindly, I reach out and silence it before rolling over, pulling my heavy wool cloak back over my head in the same motion. It is entirely too early to face the fact that I'll be pouring myself a bowl of overly processed, prepackaged and artificially preserved cold cereal. Instead, I'd much rather it be my usual boiled grains prepared over a crackling fire, built from yesterday's carefully covered coals. It is an odd realization, but I
Rise of the Ice Kings: The Dream"Play for me, Brandhol." Rathiel begged upon the second evening of eldest brother’s short respite at home."Play your whistle again, please? It's been so long since you played!"
"That's because I've been gone so long, silly," he replied, digging out his tin whistle from an inner pocket of his thick cloak. After a few short trills to warm up his fingers, he began to play a song that seemed to grow and mature as it progressed. Rathiel grinned and began to dance a few bars into the seemingly light-hearted tune.
The children's uncle, Hedhel, sent home from war on permanent furlough lay on the rug, dozing before the dying fire. At the sound of his nephew's playing, he bolted upright, staring wildly at Brandhol for a moment before calming slightly. "I think it's time that you find your bed, Rathiel," he said hoarsely.
Silien looked up from her darning in surprise,"Goodness, child!" she exclaimed, "You should have been in bed almost an hour ago! Hurry and change now, I'll be along
The Final StrawJason Rathen almost ignored the gentle taping on his office door, thinking that the sound originated from further down the hall, but the hesitant sound came a second time, only slightly more audible. Rathen stood and opened the door to be greeted by the person that he least expected and most hoped to see. "Hello, Jessie!"
Jessie nodded, worrying her lower lip in thinly veiled distress. "I... I'm sorry about practice, earlier," she said, rapidly forcing the words out.
"Why don't you come in," Rathen suggested, gesturing towards the other chair in his prop- and book-stuffed office, "and we can talk about what happened earlier this afternoon, if you'd like."
The suggestion was more of a mild order, but Jessie either didn't notice, or ignored it as she nodded and gingerly perched on the edge of the offered chair, grasping her books against her chest.
Professor Rathen took his time in mostly closing the door, and resettling a stack of papers that had been distu
A Slightly Dramatized AccountA Slightly Dramatized Account of a Very Real Feeling
I woke up to despise the world that I once loved. The sound of the fan in the next room is deceptively similar to the sound of the gentle rain that has gently woken me these past few mornings. For one blissful moment longer, I can pretend that things have not changed, and that when I open my eyes, the dim autumn lights will be filtered through the thick canvas wall of my rug lined pavilion. The thought is a comforting one until the undisturbed quiet is broken by the harsh blaring of my painfully electronic alarm, reminding me that cannot be so. Blindly, I reach out and silence it before rolling over, pulling my heavy wool cloak back over my head in the same motion. It is entirely too early to face the fact that I'll be pouring myself a bowl of overly processed, prepackaged and artificially preserved cold cereal instead of the usual boiled grains prepared over a crackling fire, built from yesterday's carefully covered coals. It is an
RQ: Parent AU: Rivaille x Reader: Snow DayA languid sigh escaped your lips as you pulled a stray foot back underneath the comforter that you hugged to your body. The air in the room was chilled with morning frost, but under the quilt it was warm and comfortable in the arms of your husband. Rivaille's soft snores blew onto your exposed shoulder blade, tickling the bare skin there. Your eyes fluttered open gently, slowly focusing on the dim light outside, and the silent snow that fell from the heavens.
"Guess it's a snow day." You murmured softly. A soft murmur was Rivaille's only reply.
You relished the infrequent morning such as this. Normally Rivaille was gone for work before you woke up, but on days where it was hard to travel to the office you got to spend a few extra minutes curled up next to his warm figure.
However, on days such as this, the peace never lasted for long.
It started with the quiet sound of pitter patter foosteps, echoing down the hall on wooden floorboards. Then the sound of h
New Boyfriend (Stalker!2P!Canada x Reader)It was the first day back from summer vacation. Matthew arrived at school first. He actually couldn’t wait to see __________ again. He hadn’t seen her since June. Her father put her into some camp because her grandmother was visiting and he wasn’t going to have his daughter exposed to shit. He didn’t mind. They wrote and talked through letters and her laptop, which she smuggled in. He missed her. He was going to walk her to school but he had other things he on his mind. He spent the summer with Allistor, Francis, and Gaul. He was just tired. He was looking forward to seeing a feminine face that wasn’t a prostitute.
“Hi Mattie!” he looked up and stared. Puberty was fuckin’ good to ___________. She filled out in all of the right places. Her chest came in, her legs were longer, her hair was done nice, she was actually wearing something nice, versus the shit her mother had her wear in middle school, and she was just…cute.
Horoscopes (AvengersxReader) One-Shot
Tony had been rather bored lately and had even got bored of fooling around with the things in his lab. He decided to head downstairs where the other Avengers were to, most likely, bother them. When he arrived, they were all where he expected them to be: at the living room watching TV. By the looks of it there was nothing on since you kept switching channels.
“Hey guys,” Tony said as he plopped down next to you.
He tried to snatch the remote from your hands but you merely shot him a death glare and said, “I dare you.”
“Alright then,” he smacked his lips and decided to not do that.
He then got a wicked idea and pulled out his phone. A few days ago he had read something that made him laugh and he thought it would make everyone less bored. Of course it would also stir up some trouble but there’s always trouble with the Avengers.
“Hey guys,” he began. “You want to know this funny thing I read about people who have a certain zodiac
Tony x Child! Reader I'm Coming Home
Tony x Child! Reader I’m Coming Home
I’m coming home
I’m coming home
Tell the world I’m coming home
(Name) Stark, daughter of the world’s favorite billionaire, stared out of the window with a frown on her face, her small brow furrowed as she observed the throngs of people travelling around at rush hour. She had a natural talent for recognizing faces, but the falling rain tended to obscure her vision.
Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday
I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes
She’d caught him drinking again. He’d been trying non-stop to go cold turkey on the drinks. Which isn’t the easiest thing when you’re suffering from alcoholism. She sighed at the memory. (Name) had begun to scold him, however being four years old didn’t prove for much influence on the man. Not when he was as drunk as he had been that night, anyways.
Misunderstood!France X Reader: I'm Not A Rapist 5
When you were heading to your locker the next morning, you noticed that the halls seemed to be rather empty, with the exception of a few people who shot quick glances at you when you walked past them. I wonder where everyone is... you thought a bit confusingly. However, as you kept walking towards your locker, you were able to notice a large crowd all the way at the other end of the hall, and the sound of a group of people yelling loudly. Your befuddlement grew only further and you hastened your pace slightly. The crowd seemed to be gathered around the area where your locker was, and if there was some kind of drama going on, you didn’t want to become a part of it.
However, when you neared the crowd, which you noticed was made up of people staring in front of them with wide eyes and slightly open mouths, the voices of the group of people who seemed to be in the center of it became much more apparent. Once you recognized who they belonged to, you nearly let out a gasp.
Don't leave - Netherlands x Reader
The rays of the sunlight woke you up. Your squinted your eyes and stretched, turning around in the bed. It was a sunny day, birds were chirping, a perfect, cliché day. Until. . . You looked at your alarm clock and realized you had one hour to get ready for work. You sighed, you really didn’t feel like working today.
After a few minutes you managed to sit up and throw your legs over the edge of the bed, you rubbed your face with your hands and groaned. Slowly, you raised yourself but was pulled back into the bed. You gasped, two muscular arms wrapped around you and prevented you from walking away.
You relaxed into the grip and giggled when you heard small murmurs against your hair. “You know, I can’t hear you when you have your face buried in my hair.” You chuckled and turned around so you were facing him. Your husband, Tim Jansen.*
[ Since Netherlands doesn’t have an official Surname, what I know about anyway, I just picked a random name for him.
Country!EnglandxHuman!Reader: Forever and Always
"Okay, I spy with my little eye... Something red," you said, your eyes darting around the quiet street as you and Arthur walked along, hand in hand, having just gone out to dinner at your favorite restaurant. The moonlight cast an almost magical glow all around you.
"Is it... That large bouquet of roses in the flower shop over there?" Arthur guessed, pointing to said floral arrangement. You giggled.
"Yep!" you exclaimed, nodding.
"I knew it! And it's my turn now! Let's see here... I spy with my little eye... Something that is absolutely beautiful in every sense of the word," Arthur whispered, smiling and staring right at you. You blushed bright pink, knowing he was talking about you, but you decided to play dumb.
"Is it... The moon?" you asked. Arthur shook his head.
"Nope. Try again," he cooed.
Wordsworth Between Us Snake x Reader
The chilly morning air of your small, cozy home caused the tiny hairs on your forearms to raise and goosebumps to form. “How is it so cold in here? It was nice and warm when I went to bed.” Sliding your feet into a pair of warm slippers to avoid touching your cold hard floor, you scurried to the large, covered window and pulled back the heavy curtains. Just having the sunlight shine in through the glass warmed your room considerably. “There, now. That's much better.” As you walked from room to room, pulling back the curtains and drapes, you heard a gentle knock at your front door. Not expecting any visitors, you pulled your housecoat tightly around your body and slowly cracked open the front door. “Snake, what are you doing here?”
Snake looked straight at you, as it often was, his face was almost completely devoid of any expression. “You never came to see us. Says Emily.”
Immediate guilt hit you. How could you have fo
Fighting - Punk!England x Reader
A loud sound from an electric guitar was heard and you covered your ears. Your eyes were shut hard and your nose wrinkled in disapproval. You threw your sketches on the ground and went out of the door of your room. You marched towards the basement in the small house you shared with nobody else than Arthur Kirkland.
Slam! The basement door shut and the brit’s attention was turned towards a certain pissed person. Also known as you.
“Finally coming to hear my amazing music, love?” He smirked as he caressed the neck of his guitar. You walked towards him.
“Would you, please, turn down the volume of that shitty music you have there.” You snapped and put your hands on your hips.
“It’s not shitty, you just don’t have a taste in good music.” He said and proceeded to play loudly again until your hand grabbed his wrist.
“Seriously, Arthur, it’s starting to get really annoying, can you at least turn down the volume?” Th
Friends and MemoriesAs was his habit, Frodo shut himself in his study, fulfilling his promise to Bilbo. It was the 6th of October, the anniversary of the Weathertop attack. It was not until evening that anyone realized the significance of the date, but Frodo had known early on. Bitter pain flooded his arm radiating from the morgul wound. With his opposite hand, he groped for the pendant that Arwen had given him. When at last his fingers found what they had searched for he found strength to block the whispers from his mind, finding peace in the memories of his friends.
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More