#◜ﾟ✧. trapped in a maze all night (ic). ❜

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Jingliu

[chuluoyi]

So how exactly did the convo go between empress and hanabi when the empress confronted her about cheating?

takes place in all hail the empress

“so, tell me… have you been dallying with the emperor behind my back?”

hanabi shrunk herself at your sharp gaze, frantically thinking her way out. this wasn’t supposed to happen. she was supposed to be crowned as consort first—that was how everyone was supposed to know!

the cold night air pierced through her skin, and the ice in your stare was withering. “hanabi, answer me!”

“y-your majesty!” it was the only thing she could’ve done. hanabi prostrated herself before you in the muddy ground. “please spare me! your majesty— please help me, i-i didn’t mean for it to happen!”

oh. the very realization that naoya had truly betrayed you… you felt like doused with a hot water. how could he? how could your own husband do this to you?

“and that child—” unbridled rage was all you could feel, and you thought nothing could make you even angrier until—

“i’m carrying the heir to the throne, your majesty!” hanabi sobbed before you so audaciously that it took you aback. “please spare me—!”

the hollowness in your chest intensified at her claim. it took everything you had not to lash out at her, but it was so hard for you to do so.

“how dare you…” and no, you couldn’t keep up with this anymore. your voice rose as you yelled at her: “you ungrateful wench!”

hanabi raised her head in fright, and your eyes flashed with fury so severe it almost stunned her on the spot.

“leave.” your voice was laced with so much venom as you towered above her. “if i still see you here by dawn, i’ll banish you. or worse, i’ll impose a punishment for you. leave!”

like a spooked rabbit, hanabi scurried away in tears, leaving you in the darkness of the rose gardens. suddenly you felt trapped inside this maze— and you knew, a part of you died along with the wilted rose hanabi had stomped as she went on her way.

[storiesforallfandoms]

Masterlist 3!

Here’s the third masterlist for all of my works! If you want to check out more of my work, here’s the links for masterlist one and masterlist two Imagines marked * are smutty imagines! Imagines marked ` are requests! Imagines marked ⭐ are personal favorites!

IMAGINES

STRANGER THINGS small ~ jim hopper` dance with me ~ eddie munson ⭐ starry night ~ steve harrington* (part five) ⭐ at the hip ~ steve harrington` ⭐ triple date ~ steve harrington (part six) ⭐ the freak ~ steve harrington (part seven) ⭐ oblivious ~ eddie munson ⭐ jason doesn’t know ~ eddie munson ⭐ this is music ~ eddie munson` ⭐

SUPERNATURAL strange human feelings ~ castiel` cleaning ~ dean winchester`

HANNIBAL into fiction` sob story ~ hannibal lecter

THE BOYS obsession ~ billy butcher* ⭐ herogasm ~ soldier boy* ⭐ alone on christmas ~ billy butcher can’t get too close ~ billy butcher ⭐ change in a heartbeat ~ billy butcher ⭐ the bad room ~ homelander ⭐

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY life father ~ diego hargreeves` rescue mission ~ klaus hargreeves’ ⭐

THE LAST OF US (HBO) friendly neighbors ~ joel miller ⭐ too sweet ~ joel miller

BARRY attraction ~ barry berkman` treat him better ~ barry berkman

AMERICAN HORROR STORY late night sins ~ xavier plympton (1984)*`

VICTORIOUS lost dog ~ tori vega` junker ~ beck oliver

HEMLOCK GROVE i don’t ever wanna see you with him ~ roman godfrey ⭐

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES roses are red ~ damon salvatore` ⭐

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH captive ~ blackbeard/ed teach ⭐

PEAKY BLINDERS moved on ~ thomas shelby

FUTURE MAN winner ~ josh futturman* ⭐

GAME OF THRONES littlest lion ~ oberyn martell (part one) ⭐ freedom ~ oberyn martell (part two) ⭐

THE WITCHER destiny ~ geralt of rivia

DOCTOR WHO looks of a princess ~ eleventh doctor ⭐

BRIDGERTON by the lake ~ benedict bridgerton

THE GENTLEMEN the assistant ~ raymond smith ⭐

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN spirit of nature ~ jack sparrow`

THE MAZE RUNNER i’ll keep you safe ~ newt`

MARVEL how things are now ~ marc spector and steven grant` ⭐ kneel ~ loki* the most wonderful time ~ bucky barnes fast ~ pietro maximoff ⭐

1917 early morning ~ will schofield*`

THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT happy birthday ~ javi gutierrez ⭐

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY’S i need someone older ~ william afton ⭐ the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt

SALTBURN new toy ~ felix catton ⭐ partners ~ oliver quick ⭐

THE SANTA CLAUSE santa’s sister-in-law ~ bernard the elf

8 MILE one of the guys ~ jimmy smith jr ⭐

THE FALL GUY the space cowboy and the pa ~ tom ryder

A QUIET PLACE i’d find you in any life ~ eric ⭐

GLADIATOR II betrothed ~ emperor geta ⭐

PETE DAVIDSON your gift` favoritism`

HARRY STYLES the perfect tree a star in the making` sleepy head`

MACHINE GUN KELLY baby mama` ⭐ my queen*` getting your attention*` all the mistakes` not what it looks like` can’t keep doing this*`

EMINEM may the best artist win*` too close for comfort` ⭐ when it’s wrong but it feels right` in the dressing room*` he’s acting different` we have to stop meeting like this` every inch*` let’s surprise the world` i’m sorry i let you down`

GOODGUYFITZ wake up call*`

CORPSE HUSBAND letting go` they forgot` ⭐

ASHTON IRWIN home life` cover me*`

CONAN GRAY pushing`

MATTHEW LILLARD accidental drunk confessions`

JOHNNY KNOXVILLE feeling good*`

ALEX TURNER more than a song*` ⭐

BO BURNHAM can’t handle this right now ⭐ look at me*`

KRISTEN STEWART special customer`

TARON EGERTON he already has my approval ⭐

ROBERT PATTINSON my favorite superhero

GERARD WAY good girl*`

GWILYM LEE history repeats itself`

RYAN GOSLING play date`

JOSEPH QUINN bad idea, right? ⭐

RANBOO fluffy haired gamer boy`

JACOB ELORDI height advantage`

MOTLEY CRUE she is mine ~ mick mars`

CHRIS EVANS not used to normal` ⭐

SWAGGERSOULS our next step`

JSCHLATT too far ⭐ the hotel room* ⭐

JOHNNY DEPP just for us`

TRAVIS BARKER the parent trap`

SHIPS

family reunion ~ hermione granger x draco malfoy`

HEADCANONS

showing pedro pascal fan edits ⭐ sitting on jschlatt’s lap ⭐

NSFW ALPHABET

rook (jp capellette)*` eddie munson* ⭐ billy butcher* ⭐

[interregionalgyminspections]

A continued, but still incomplete list of places traveling trainers shouldn't visit:

Cinnabar Island of Kanto - Severity: 6/10

A thriving town used to be here, complete with its own gym, until the island's volcano suddenly became active again, and everyone had to be evacuated. People have already done entire documentaries on the incident, so I won't go into how everyone was saved. I will, however, note that Cinnabar Volcano is still active, and erupts pretty often, around every few months. As you can probably imagine, being near an active volcano is not safe in the slightest.

Far Desert of Orre - Severity: 7/10

The deserts of Orre are a harsh place, and the Far Desert is the harshest of them all. No oases, no cover, just sand as far as the eye can see. The sun will brutally boil you during the day, and the night will freeze you ice cold. It's said that some Team Snagem members hid treasure out here, but all it has led to is many people suffering from severe dehydration.

Old Victory Road of Unova - Severity: 8/10

Unova's old Victory Road had numerous safety measures to make sure that it wouldn't cause serious injury. That was until some teens set off fireworks there and caused a landslide, collapsing most of Victory Road. It's still navigatable, but the safety features have long since stopped working. It's pretty unstable, too, and you could easily get trapped by a cave-in or worse. If you want a challenge, try the current Victory Road.

Reef Maze of Alola - Severity: 9/10

Alola is one of the most dangerous regions of the world, but even more dangerous is what lurks beyond the shores. Deep underwater, there's a giant maze of coral reefs and sunken ships. Sure, there's definitely stuff to be salvaged here, but it's all too easy to become lost in the maze and find you're low on oxygen. That's not even to mention how one diver tore their scuba outfit on the coral, and, well. That's a lot of water pressure.

Deep Underground of Sinnoh - Severity: 10/10

There used to be another layer to Sinnoh's Underground, even deeper than the spelunker's playground that many of you know. Another half kilometer underground, there's the Deep Underground, and magma has slowly been creeping inside. You'd need specialized equipment for the fumes alone, to say nothing of the scorching heat. Only the most resilient of fire-types can live down here, as it's far hotter than most Pokemon can handle. And that is much, much hotter than any human can withstand.

[fsfghgee]

Saw your reblog on that baby Frost comic. Thoughts on an iteration where Frost was raised on the streets and only wants power to never feel powerless again and to protect those like her?

so ice to see you

Frost was born with a very special gift, cryomancer powers. As a child, because she had no control over her powers, she hurt other children who bullied her for being different.

Abandoned as a child by her parents to protect her from the reactions of other people in the village where she was born, she was forced to lead an even more solitary and difficult life.

Thanks to her cryomancer powers and her resilience, she was able to survive by stealing here and there. She lived as best she could.

One day, Frost heard two men talking near a food stand, one of them was extremely hungry and seemed excited about the idea of ​​leaving Fengjian, that there was a clan called the Lin Kuei whose Grandmaster had the power to manipulate ice. Excited about the existence of a clan that she had only heard about when she was little from an old man who was passionate about literature, the clan that accepted people like her to the point of making someone like her a grandmaster and having been founded by cryomancers, she gathered all the information she could in the oldest library in the region.

Relying on her newly acquired knowledge and almost praying that her faith in finding the territory had not been in vain, she traveled for many days until she found the forest considered haunted by many, in the far north of China.

Frost had always been a brave and fearless girl, even though there were reports that there were people that when tried to cross that forest, never returned or that only their remains had been found, she entered in the most stealthy way she knew how.

In the forest, during the night, she heard quick footsteps as if there were more people in that place besides her. She used the tops of the trees as a hiding place for days. The forest was much larger and more difficult to cross than she had expected, with many deadly traps along the way and even at night there were people dressed in black from head to toe who seemed to patrol the place.

One night, she saw a young man with gray hair running through the forest as if he were hunting something. She noticed that he was wearing distinctive clothes but with the same symbol on his back and chest as other men in black that she had seen a few times in the last few days. Frost, recognizing the symbol as the symbol she had seen in the few books that spoke of the ancient clan of warriors, decided to follow the man from a certain distance. It was risky, but she no longer knew what else to do to find the clan and finally get out of that forest that seemed more like a deadly maze.

At a certain point, her plan failed when the young man with gray hair heard her stumble and fall from the tree.

Surprised that the girl was so young and tried to attack him with ice, Smoke subdued her and questioned her about invading the Lin Kuei territory. Unlike other warriors who were on patrol, Smoke would never kill someone for an invasion without being sure that they were an enemy, he would never repeat what they did to his mother and twin sister.

Cautious, but without many options, Frost explained why she was there. She wanted to join the Lin Kuei and meet the grandmaster who had the same powers as her.

Smoke took her to Sub-Zero, thinking that his brother would not object to letting a teenager with so much passion for the Lin Kuei and desire to fight join them.

To Smoke and Frost's surprise, the newly crowned Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was angered only by the idea of ​​welcoming another foreigner into the clan, impressed by the arrogance of the Grandmaster she had long wanted to meet and by the great fortress of the Lin Kuei, she showed him what she could do.

Finally gaining his attention, Frost was allowed to stay, but she would not become a Lin Kuei warrior until she proved herself worthy.

Training daily, always doing her best to become stronger, she ended up impressing the Grandmaster who decided to train her personally.

She was happy to evolve much faster than other warriors in such a short time, unlike the others, the training she had in childhood had been iron-based. Surpassing others of her age had not been difficult, but she promised Bi-Han that one day she would exceed his skills too. Unlike Tomas and Kuai Liang who worried about her growing arrogance, Bi-Han appreciated her confidence and encouraged her to seek more power.

Unlike what many thought about her, she liked to feel stronger every day, not just to receive praise from Bi-Han. Unlike anyone else in the Lin Kuei, she knew what it was like to feel powerless and weak, and she never wanted to feel the way she felt as a child again. And the day she finally got her promotion to a full Lin Kuei warrior, she would use her power to protect those she once was.

[fredwkong]

1000: Prologue

Eric’s always been pretty ordinary. He’s a pretty skinny guy, relatively short, with cute features, floppy brown hair, and a beard. He grew up in a quiet suburb outside of Cincinnati, went to a pretty okay school, and headed off to the local college with a bunch of his classmates. He’d hoped that college would be where he could blossom, come out, and be himself, but instead it’s been more of the same closeted life. He keeps his head down and tries to stay out of the way of all the big guys at school.

It’s the start of summer, early June, and Eric and some of his friends go to Philadelphia for a concert. During the day, Eric roams the city and walks into a thrift shop on the side of the street. It’s one of those stores that feels bigger on the inside, a maze of infinite narrow aisles full of knickknacks, baubles, and the occasional treasure. For a while, Eric explores the store, and finally finds himself in front of a table holding only one item.

It’s a large box, a big square like you might keep a card collection in, but when Eric tries to open it, the lid won’t budge. Instead, moving the box reveals a sheet of yellowing paper on the table underneath it. Eric picks it up.

Congratulations, Eric. It reads. You are the recipient of the 1000 cards. Each week, you will draw three cards and choose one. This card will define how you change in the week that follows. Choose wisely.

Eric looks around, wondering if there are any cameras monitoring him, but the store is deserted. Holding the box, he goes to the front desk to ask about it, but the clerk claims never to have seen it. Eric gives her $5 anyway and heads home with the box.

For the rest of the trip, he thinks about it, wonders what the message could have possibly meant. He wonders if he should ask some of his friends, but he’s not actually that close with any of them, and anyway the 1000 cards seem like something that should be kept secret. Every night, he tries again to open the deck, but finds it still resistant. He even tries to open it with scissors and a knife, but the lid seems impermeable.

The next Saturday night, Eric’s pretty much given up. “Look at me,” he laughs to himself. “It’s Saturday night in summer and I’m sitting in my dorm trying to open a damn box.” He goes and pours himself a bowl of late night cereal in his kitchenette.

When he comes back, the lid of the box is open. Inside are rows upon rows of cards, their faces hidden. Eric finds himself looking around again for hidden cameras, but all he feels is a tingle of potential in the air.

With shaking hands, Eric draws three cards. Their backs are covered in beautiful interlocking geometric patterns, while the faces have drawings on them, like an immense deck of tarot cards.

On the face of the first card is a peach. Well, it looks mostly like a peach. Something about the way the lines of the peach flow together with the tan background make it seem as if the card depicts a round, juicy ass. It looks like it would jiggle with the slightest motion, and looking at it makes Eric feel... hungry.

On the face of the second card is a banana. Something about the way it’s drawn makes it look huge and tantalizing, and Eric’s mouth starts to water. It’s almost perfectly straight and thick, jutting proudly forth from the card. Right at the base of the banana, which is pointing up, it’s been peeled slightly open, and what looks like a drop of glaze or icing sits right on the point of the flesh.

On the face of the third card is a fruit that Eric’s only seen a few times. It’s small, egg-shaped, and covered in hairlike strands. A rambutan, Eric remembers. The hairs don’t just seem to cover the fruit in the art, though, but spread, thick and dark, all over everything on the card. They’re so long and curly, and somehow they look just a little damp, like water’s getting trapped in them.

Holding the cards in his hand, Eric looks up to see the clock. It’s 11:59, almost midnight. Somehow, he senses that he only has a moment to choose what card to take.

Or vote here on Strawpoll: https://strawpoll.com/NoZr3olBXy3

See Eric's whole journey with the 1000 cards here.

[the-slasher-files]

SLASHER FILES' BLOOD FEST: WEEK ONE

SAVED FOR THE DEVIL

MICHAEL MYERS

Prompts: FIRE. WOUND(S). SUBURBS. BONDAGE

Keywords: ACRID. MALIGNANT

You were finally home. Back to comfort. Safety. You just wish you could stop the shaking.

It was your first night at home alone without the help of your best friend. They had work the next day, and it was time to get back to some sort of normalcy, even for yourself. But you couldn't stop the memories and waves of violent anxiety. Every twist and turn, trying to melt into your couch, it only made your body ache more. The gash on your thigh grew warm with irritation, stitches throbbing and your muscles would tense with a deep, tight pull.

This wasn't how you were supposed to spend your week off.

You take a moment to collect your equilibrium once you raise yourself off the cushions; Hesitating, eventually opting out of grabbing your crutches and slowly, you move out the front door. You just needed some air.

Limping down the wooden steps with clinging hands against the railing, you were thankful no one was ever out around this time of night. No one to gaze and pity you or ask about the accident. The corpse of your totalled motorcycle lay against the asphalt of your driveway, a mangled sore thumb within the so-called "perfect" suburb. But you knew all your neighbours just wanted gossip to spew behind picket fences of your "wild night out". At first, the suburb seemed warm, and safe, with lovely families and idealistic women, now, it just seemed creepy. Something like a maze of houses with monsters hiding in plain sight. Pointed roofs cast dark silhouettes against the midnight sky, mirroring the sharp jaws of a bear trap that kept you in place.

There was nothing but eerie silence around you, the cool breeze carried with it the acrid smell of singed plastic, motor oil and leaking gasoline. It twisted your stomach. Goosebumps arose on your flesh as memories flooded back; Blinding headlights, crushing metal, screaming brakes and your hands grasping at the metal trying to rip your leg apart.

Breathe. Breathe. You're safe.... safe.

The gentle squeal of your front door drew your mind back to the present. Your bare feet padded softly around the corner, seeing the front door open merely an inch that the wind could've pushed open. Odd, but not abnormal with the amount of pain pills still sitting within your veins.

Climbing the steps once more, you closed the door behind you. Taking in a deep breath, your body ached and shivered, restlessness eating at your very core, yet the exhaustion wanted to tear you down into the ground. 'Ice, medication and sleep' the doctors voice repeated.

"Ice, meds... Ice cream and sleep" You softly spoke to yourself with a slight delirious chuckle.

The dim led lights greeted your skin in a cool glow just as the cold graced it as well. It was all so normal— The gentle fog that rolled out, the soft burn of the ice pack once your fingers grabbed the ice pack. Normal until there was the cracking of your skull against the freezer door. Your wrist snapping between the gap, bones cutting like a blade through tendons and muscle, coating your skin in blood as your body fell lifelessly against the hardwood. It wasn't the headlights of a vehicle blinding you or the force of a 4000 pound piece of metal colliding with your figure, but your body flooded with agonizing terror all the same.

Reacting on instinct alone, a pure fight or flight to stay alive, your body twisted to your back so your eyes could gather the impending doom. A looming shape of death came from the shadows of your dark home. A reaper with a white unaffected face, boots heavy without fear of a sound, mythologically pounded towards you. Clambering back, clutching your broken wrist that was spilling out, malignant eyes stared down like a predatory ready to fest on his prey.

"P-please— I" Your voice caught in your throat.

Stuck mindlessly as the large boot pressed upon your chest. Ribs compressing down on your lungs, something caught his attention on the kitchen counter, and a bloody hand reached out. The flash of silver captured the low light from the fridge still hanging open, blood dripping down the plastic. Slowly, the man knelt down, a powerful leg in navy coveralls crushing your sternum, waiting until he heard the sick crack of bone drawing a blood-curdling scream from you. Thrashing, grappling and writhing, unable to move under the shadow above you. Your lungs hurt with every breath, burning and tasting copper as he just watched. Toying with your vital fear and raw emotions, watching you hopelessly settle to watch him back.

"What the fuck do you want from me?!" You screamed, no one would come to your rescue— Wouldn't dare to leave their cozy homes and search for the wounded within the black night.

With your wrists above you, laying lame on the hardwood floor, your yelling seemed to displease the shape. And within a matter of seconds, his large arm drew back and then hurled forward to slice a kitchen knife threw your hand. Pinning it. Before you could curl your other hand in defence, the man above repeated the action. Nerves, tendons, muscles and bones all set ablaze in the sight of the beast, he tilted his head curiously. A sick enjoyment.

His breathing could be heard beneath the mask and over your pounding heart. He was labored bearing witness to your struggle, and it was not in sympathy.

Your crimson ran hot, forming a puddle and tangling within your messy hair. Stretching out his arm, he grabbed another blade from within the knife block and finally released his knee from you. He had you exactly where he wanted, pinned in a sick way of bondage to do whatever he pleased. The searing pain from your hands travelled all the way up your arms, forcing you not to move, just crying and feeling every broken breath that you took.

Begging softly between cries, they fell on deft ears as the man gazed over your body. It was as if he was enamored by you if he could even feel those emotions. But the man was just looking for another reason to keep you alive a little longer, and he found that reason.

A thick finger, oddly gentle, coasted along the fresh wound on your plush thigh. Stitches raised, skin still raw. It pulls a lamentable whine from you, raising your knees with the instinct to protect yourself from a vile predator. And you swear you hear the man above give a quiet 'hush' as he tilts his head in curiosity.

"Don't, please" You try and beg again, twisting your body in any futile attempt. "...I won't tell anyone, I promise"

The massive blood-soaked hand trailed up, knife within his dangerous grasp. Sharp, deadly, he grazed the blade across your cheek, almost as if it was a gentle caress— He followed the flexed tendons of your anatomy. Jaw, throat, and playing at your collar bone. The man was curious. A sick young dog let loose to play god and have his own fascination piqued with blood and torture.

Your chest rose and fell in quick succession before arching in anguish, having the knife drive home into youe jugular. The beast above had hooked his blunt fingers in your stitches and tore the flesh apart again. You wished you could let out the scream you wanted, but blood came like a tidal wave, washing the tubes of your throat. It would drown you as he pushed the knife further.

Leaning down, the man grasped your jaw to see him, making sure your last dying moments were spent gazing the devil in the eye. Like a religious figure on pinned to the cross, you died under his torture. In the safety of your own home. God saved you for the devil, your rightful death. Blood pouring in a halo, he left to become the shadows once more.

[phoenix-pheces]

“Our Stolen Moment” - A Nevermore fic from Lenore’s perspective during episodes 26 and 27.

I have absolutely fallen in love with Nevermore, it has a glowing recommendation from me. Please go read the Webtoon if you haven’t!

DISCLAIMER: The four lines of dialogue at the end of this piece are directly quoted from Episode 27 of Nevermore on Webtoon, and are fully attributed to Kate Flynn and Kit Trace.

—————————————

Lenore awoke slowly from the first dreamless sleep she could remember since arriving at Nevermore Academy. The mattress beneath her was cold and stiff. It was impossible to say whether it was the bed or the brutal injuries that caused her to wake in so much pain. She began to roll to her side, and a sharp burning sensation tore through her body. The sensation was irritatingly familiar.

Next to her, Duke grunted in his sleep. His scarlet infirmary blanket had been kicked near the end of the bed sometime in the night. Lenore couldn’t see Pluto from her current position, but she was positive he was responsible for the light snoring wafting through the room.

Wincing, Lenore pushed herself into an upright position. Though the window behind her provided some much needed light, and a stunning view of the stars, the academy’s clock tower was not in view: leaving no way to know the time.

Shit.

The blanket flew to the floor as Lenore tried to get herself out of bed as quickly as she could without alerting anyone else. The last thing she needed was for Nurse Dolly or one of the wisps to discover her roaming the halls so late. The floor felt like ice beneath Lenore’s feet, but the uniforms were still a disaster from their time in the maze. She snatched her blanket from the floor and haphazardly threw it around her shoulders as she made her way out of the infirmary.

Finding her way through the academy miraculously proved manageable. The endless stairs did not. Lenore clutched her hip in one hand and held tight to the railing with the other. Each step worsened the intrusive stinging. If not for her recent recollections, Lenore might have assumed this injury was significantly worsened by the trials of the maze. Even in near death she knew no peace.

Finally, after plenty of tiresome stairs, Lenore found the arboretum. It was lavish, ornate, and had a marvelous view of the academy clock tower.

Which currently read a mocking quarter past eleven.

With spare time, however, came spare musings. Lenore made her way to a large tree in the center of the arboretum. It sat across a koi pond littered with its leaves. Though it pained her greatly, Lenore slowly pushed herself into the upper branches of the tree. The foliage provided an excellent veil, even concealing the blood red of the infirmary blanket. That macabre idea also only crossed Lenore’s mind with such spare time. She distracted herself by attempting to fix the bandages around her thigh, which had slowly loosened themselves during her journey. Though she made very little progress, it provided a much needed distraction. The clock now read ten minutes until midnight.

Let’s see where you really stand, Annabel Lee.

“Lenore?”

The call came a few minutes after midnight. Lenore stayed put. Whether to wait out a potential trap or to try and witness a glimpse at Annabel’s true feelings was anyone’s guess. Annabel began to search the arboretum, and Lenore allowed herself to sneak a glance.

Lenore snapped back against the trunk, her face growing hot. Why had Annabel come in a dressing gown, of all things? Lenore could hardly lecture anyone about dressing modestly, atop a tree in nothing but her undergarments and a blanket. Still, the sight of Annabel never ceased to sabotage Lenore’s pulse. Even her curls looked perfectly set and bound, so as to make for a distractingly picturesque look tomorrow.

“I’ve been such a fool”

Annabel’s voice brought Lenore back into focus. Tears began to gather in Annabel’s eyes as she continued to mutter to herself. Foolish though it could be, Lenore believed her. It felt as genuine as anything. But then again, with Annabel, when did it not?

“If she’s not here,” Annabel said with a soft sob. “What’s the point?”

Lenore silently shifted into position and flashed her best smirk.

“Careful there, Annabel Lee. I’m starting to think you might actually like me.”

[imogenkol]

— DOUBLE UQUIZ (YOUR OC’S HEART & PATH)

tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @corvosattano @theelderhazelnut to do this uquiz and this uquiz thank you!!! 💕💕💕

tagging: @marivenah @adelaidedrubman @risingsh0t @chuckhansen @simonxriley @inafieldofdaisies @jinfromyarikawa @sstewyhosseini @kyber-infinitygems @detectivelokis @queennymeria @voidika @aceghosts @shellibisshe @shegetsburned @loriane-elmuerto @florbelles @shallow-gravy + anyone else who wants to!

ICED OVER, OUT OF THE SUN

Your heart is very lonely, isn't it? Is your fortress of ice self-made? Are others afraid of you, or are you afraid of them? Are you afraid of hurting them, or of being hurt? Vulnerability and connection can be frightening, but that's no reason to shy away from their light, to tuck yourself small into corners, to build up frigid walls to keep yourself from feeling. You will heal when you allow yourself to draw closer to the flames and thaw.

THE SHIP

An eery apparition, the old wood groaning. This vessel is your home, your essence has seeped into each nook and it beckons you. Your soul has carried you far but now you want to leave all that you are behind, you have ripped the planks apart and built a new vessel out of them. But can you sail to new horizons or are you doomed to repeat your past voyages? Built your ship out of your old one, each groove in the wood just a mark of all that you have experienced, and light your lamps to see whose hands help you steer towards a future you seek.

A GUIDING, GOLDEN LIGHT

Just because you cannot see your own heart doesn't mean that others can't. Your heart is blinding, captivating, a fire so bright that others can't bring themselves to look away. It illuminates the path they follow and cements you as a guiding star for their own wayward hearts. Every experience you've lived through has built your lighthouse heart up just a little higher. You are inspirational, a light that doesn't go out.

THE MAZE

Walls that stretch, walls that move. There is a heartbeat running through the stone so listen closely for the secrets it whispers. It wasn't build, it was born from the sands, from despair and death, and the hope of a new dawn. Injustice gouged deep wounds into the land and the people hungered for revenge and the spilled blood of innocents is the greatest offering that could have been given. The nobility just smiled mockingly and continued their parties untilt the day they awoke to find their beloved city surrounded by walls so high and so sprawling you could never see an end. They were trapped and nothing could reach them. (Here is what they don't tell you: the maze is alive and it hungers for those full of greed and malice, the innocent could step into the opening and see a straight path to the other side. But the ones too corrupted? They still wander these walls and they will continue to do so until we are but dust.)

BROKEN, MISSING PIECES THAT ONCE WERE THERE

Your heart has been torn before, chipped and maybe even shattered. Some pieces will never be recovered, and you are shaped by the loss. But it can still be shaped into something tangible, something good, even with its flaws and imperfections. You don't have to do all the work of rebuilding by yourself. Allow other hands to leave their fingerprints on the new heart you create from the remnants.

THE WISP

A glow dancing along the moors, that what you left behind to free yourself. A twin or a shadow? A mirror? Do you know, do you care? (A moonless night, cold stars gazing down.) Do you remember, you had prayed for so long (someone, please someone help, please-)? Is it murder if you cleave yourself apart until you can't even remember what you lost? You have left the forest, left the parts you couldn't shoulder, behind. Sometimes, you have to break yourself apart, sometimes there is no other way.

A CAGE WITH IRON LOCKS

You are an enigma. You take care to remain that way. You aim to keep people guessing; your motives are uncertain even to yourself. What is it you truly want? You'll never know if you keep your heart locked away like that. You deserve to be known, truly and fully. Stop being afraid of what you might find if you open your heart up to self-reflection. Stop thinking that no one will love you the moment they understand you. You are more than the facade you put on.

THE PATH

The memories left behind by others, each one taking their next step along side you. Softly rustling leaves in the wind, the full moon bathing the forest in a silvery light. A beaten path between towering trees, giant shadows slinking between them. Glowing eyes staring down at you, the animals' gazes piercing right through you. The fluttering of thousand of moths, each flap of their wings accompanied by whispers and the knowledge that somewhere someone's fate has taken a new path.

[isamajor]

Whump drabbles : Auri

I – Gag

They had found themselves in a Falmer-infested cavern. The darkness, barely lit by the reflection of the glowing mushrooms on the dripping walls of the cavern, was stifling. Lucian squeaked. Instinctively, Auri clapped her hand over his mouth, telling him to be quiet. The Falmer were blind, but their hearing was very keen, even allowing them to fire their bows with surprising accuracy. Everyone here preferred to try to avoid confrontation as much as possible. Auri whispered into Lucien's ear that she wouldn't hesitate to gag him at the next moan that came out of his lips. (100)

•

II – Pet

Sobs were choking in Auri's voice as she told her story.

“Hundred of trees burned, and I heard their screaming within my mind every time I closed my eyes. I fled. I fled and I didn't look back.”

Sitting on a rock, she tenderly caressed the tree stump next to her. Her large amber eyes seemed empty, as if lost in the past. A big tear rolled down her cheek. Without a word, Kaidan petted her head, running his big hand through the Bosmer's red hair, in a clumsy attempt to console her. (95)

•

III – Smoke

The dragon was burning all around them, the dry grass of the plain, the trees... Even this old stone guard tower was burning. The air was filled with smoke and the smell of terror. There was no escaping, except to take down the imposing beast that circled above them. Auri could be heard on the other side of the flames whimpering that her eyes were too irritated to shoot a bow properly. And Inigo's hissing cough. Lucien was trying to repel the flames near him with ice magic. How could they fight, half asphyxiated by the smoke? And even more, to defeat that dragon? (105)

•

IV – Salve

Auri felt bad about living in a part of the world where everything would be made from wood, but salved her conscience by thinking how she would follow and defend the Green Pact until her death. After this accident in Valenwood years ago, she swore to herself she would try everything she could to be worthy of Y'ffre. No salve would appease her heart of the terror of being consigned back to the primordial Ooze after her death, so she can only be as zealous as possible and hope Y'ffre would forgive her for breaking the Pact. (99)

•

V - « Don't lie to me »

The wound on Gore's leg had been treated and his motor skills had improved greatly. However, a few days later, behind a fake playful smile and a quip between clenched teeth, pain hasn't left his gaze.

"Do you know how pale you look, right now? Are you okay ?" asked Auri.

"I'm fine Auri."

"Don't lie to me. You don't look like a person who is fine. You're awfully pale and sweaty. It's your leg, isn't it ?"

The Nord rolled his eyes in respense, not daring to admit his trouble, like a kid caught in the act. (104)

•

VI – Failed Escape

Auri and Remiel huddled together, their breathing ragged with anguish. The oppressive artificial light of the Dwemer ruin surrounded them, their failed escape leaving them trapped within its thick walls. Auri's heart pounded with each echoing noise of the Dwemer spheres that hunted them. Her arrows felt useless against their metal armor. Remiel, usually confident in her knowledge about all Dwemer things, cursed herself for misjudging the automatons' numbers. If they didn't get out of this ancient maze quickly, they would end up buried alive in these subterranean ruins, far from the surface and the rays of the sun. (104)

•

VII – Bio Weapon

Sanguinare Vampiris, they called the illness, a virus like a curse spread by the bloodthirsty creatures of the night. Fear gripped the hearts of the afflicted, for they knew what awaited them. Three days of torment and suffering, the slow progression towards an eternal transformation. Auri trembled as she began to suffer of the first symptoms after a fight against a Vampire. She knew the consequences all too well :the slow transformation into a creature she loathed. Altering one's nature was against Y'ffre's wishes. She had to find a cure, before it was too late. (98)

•

VIII – Alone

She felt alone, so alone. Her heart was heavy and even in the middle of their group, she felt left out. She missed Valenwood and its majestic forests. She missed her family. She missed living in her culture among her own people. But now she was an outcast. She was no longer welcome in her home. She was alone, in these hostile places where everything was made of wood and where the Bosmer couldn't care less about the Green Pact and their god Y'ffre. And even within their group, between two laughs, her gaze was lost and her heart longed to go home. (105)

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Beautiful Blood -- Sadistic Vampire Whumper Keeping Human Pets part 4

TW: violence, blood drinking, intimate Vampire whump, death, forced servitude

Nyx led him out into a massive mansion full of luxurious comforts and giant extravagant sofas, and a few well-dressed collared humans here and there, who all avoided eye contact and scurried out of sight upon Nyx's arrival.

It was almost a small hike to cross to the other side of the gargantuan mansion and up a giant marbled staircase that must have cost a fortune to build. But eventually, Nyx stopped, gesturing at a side room, which turned out to be a massive bathroom complete with a swimming-pool sized hot tub and many excessively lavish comforts.

"Get yourself clean, you're filthy with all those bloodstains and dirt and I don't want it getting on my couches and carpet. I already had a fresh pair of clothes set out on the counter for you when you're done to replace your current ones. The colors I picked match the house, for aesthetic reasons. You can take a moment to relax, but don't try to get out of the shock collar. I say that because it's always the first thing newcomers try, and it never ends well for them."

She rolled her eyes. "It tires and annoys me. So don't do it. Once you're all cleaned up, you'll find a servant waiting for you right outside the door, and they will show you to my quarters. I'll let you know what to do from there and show you where you'll be staying for the night. Any questions?" Her voice was edged with danger.

Asher kept his mouth shut and nodded, getting the feeling that he was walking on very thin ice. He held his breath as he walked into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him, before sinking to the floor against it, letting his facade finally fall apart as Nyx's footsteps walked off. His shoulders shook and he couldn't help the few hiccuping sobs that escaped him. How did he end up in such a horrible situation? He went from being a quirky boy with an unnatural gift trying to find his way through life, to being a pet for a vampire, a cheap bit of entertainment. It was humiliating. After a few minutes, he composed himself enough to stand up, taking in all the fancy luxury around him.

There was a giant mirror above the marble countertop where the sinks were, and Asher cringed at the sight of himself. Nyx was right. He was filthy. He was covered in dirt from when his kidnappers had attacked and dragged him away, and drenched in sweat from fear. His short blonde hair stuck out chaotically in all directions. And the fresh bloodstains... oh, it was horrible. Asher could barely recognize himself. He felt even more miserable than he looked, alone and trapped in a vampire's mansion as a walking bloodbag.

Asher undressed and took a quick hot bath, which soothed the after-ache of the wounds he'd gotten earlier, that had already healed over thanks to his gift. But it was hard to truly relax considering the circumstances. Once he was clean and dry, he found the clothes Nyx had left him, that looked expensive as ever, and slipped into them with a shudder.

It wasn't long after that there was a soft knock at the bathroom door, and Asher cautiously went and opened it. There he found what he assumed was the servant Nyx had sent him.

It was an unusual human boy with heterochromatic eyes, one blue and one brown. He couldn't be older than 16.

"Oh! Uh--H-Hi, Nyx assigned me to be your personal guide and assistant for now," the human said. "I-I'm Callum. If you'll please follow me, I'll take you straight to Nyx. And... uh... I can... I can answer any questions you have along the way?" He averted his eyes, fidgeting anxiously with the edge of his shirt, before turning and walking down the hall, pausing to glance over his shoulder expectantly at Asher.

Callum led him through the winding maze of halls in the mansion, before finally stopping at the door of one room, knocking before pushing it open.

Nyx was lounging lazily on a long couch in the back with a wine glass in hand when they arrived, which she set down upon seeing Asher. "Ah, there you are! I was wondering when you'd show up." She waved away the several humans catering to her, sending them hurrying out the room, but flicked her hand at Callum, gesturing for him to stay.

"I assume you're enjoying the amenities so far? This is what everyday life could look for you, if you so desire. A much better life than all the other human servants under my command." She let out a satisfied sigh.

"Privileges can be both given and taken away, however. And you said so yourself, you gave me permission to your blood, in return for 'privileges'. And I'll honor that." She gave Asher a fang-filled smile. "As much as I'd like to toy with you some more, I think you've had enough action for one day. I'll let Callum show you to your room. He will be your sole assistant for the most part from now on. He will be able to get you anything you need such as food and drink." She waved a hand at the two of them. "You are dismissed."

Callum dipped his head respectfully and stepped out of the room, and Asher scrambled to follow him, not wanting to be left near the vampire for one second longer than he had to. An uneasy shiver rippled down his spine as he begrudgingly followed the servant, who led him down the hall.

"So... h-how does this whole thing with Nyx work?" Asher finally mustered the courage to speak as Callum rounded another corner in the gigantic mansion. It would be easy to get lost in such a big place.

"What do you mean?" Callum said over his shoulder.

"I mean... is she always this cruel and terrifying?"

Callum barked a dry laugh. "I'm assuming that was rhetorical, but I'll answer anyway... if you end the day alive and in one piece, consider yourself lucky. That's how it works around here. Often the newest servants wind up dead or worse within the first few days of working here. Only the most resilient ones get the 'honor' of being Nyx's favorites and earning her mercy." He gave Asher a sideways glance.

"I was one of those 'lucky' ones. The first few days were pure hell... but I survived, and since then I've learned exactly how to stay on Nyx's good side, to keep her pleased with me. It's a fine balance to maintain, but I've been her servant for over a year now... so her cruelty is nothing new for me. I've learned tricks to live with it. But even so... I occasionally make mistakes." Callum visibly winced, as though recalling some horrifying memory, then stayed silent as he stopped at a door and unlocked it.

Asher still had so many more questions, he wanted to gain as much useful information as possible -- but he was exhausted after such a chaotic day, and a bed sounded nice. He could ask his questions tomorrow.

Callum walked into the bedroom and Asher followed, whose jaw practically hit the floor. The room was huge, fancier than he'd ever imagined. A large bed dominated the back wall, and there was even a work desk and bookshelf nearby, along with a full-sized bathroom. He was pulled from his thoughts when Callum started talking.

"Nyx ordered me to give this to you," he said, and handed Asher a black bracelet with a small red gemstone on top. "Press that stone to summon me, and I'll come straight away. As your personal assistant, it's my job to help with anything you need and care for you, as well as show you around." Callum held up his own wrist, where a similar black band rested, though his lacked a red gem.

"Nyx has a device she uses to call me too," he explained. "This band vibrates if you press the stone, and I'll immediately know where to find you." He gently helped Asher put the bracelet on. "With this, you can reach me at all hours, day or night."

Asher stared numbly down at his new accessory, the red gem catching the light.

"Is... Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?" Callum offered softly.

Asher shook his head sadly. "No... I'd just like to sleep now."

Callum nodded and turned to leave, only pausing to throw a last sentence over his shoulder. "I will come to get you early in the morning, Nyx wants me to give you a tour of the mansion so you know where everything is." And just like that, he was gone, leaving Asher on his own to reflect on everything that had happened in the past few hours.

It was surreal. Going from a boy with a gift, to being a pet for a literal vampire. A plaything. A toy.

Asher let out a weary sigh and sluggishly approached the bed, crawling onto it. The exhaustion hit hard, and he didn't even bother taking his new clothes off as sleep quickly claimed his mind.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

[themarvelliteraryuniverse]

What Could Go Wrong @positivelybeastly

Victor didn't want to be here.

But he knew the territory. He was the one who found the place tucked away in the mountains- his mountains. The Mountains he and Hank first met. Or. Well, re-met. Talked like semi decent people... Fucked like animals.

It felt like a life time ago, which usually went by quick for someone like him. Someone who'd seen millions of lives end, half of them by his own hand. Maybe his hand. The lines blurred, on where he ended and his clone- his clones apparently- began and where, if, they ended and he retook control.

His time with Hank was all his. His fall out was all his. Murdering Trish was... all his. So did it really matter? The clones were clones of him, part of him, his actions. So life-like, so believable, they might as well have been him. Didn't stop his skin from crawling when he came face to face with the rows of tanks and the smell of a fluid Victor couldn't name but it made him want to retch.

And he did what any Creed clone wouldn't do. He called the X-Men. He called Hank. The conversation had been short and clipped and Vic sort of rushed through the important bits. Sinister's here. There's tanks. There's kids. Hang up.

Now he led the team through the woods, half way up the mountain where he first found it. Could be abandoned, could be active; Victor didn't exactly take a stroll around the facility, and he was more than fine being told to Stay out here by their laser light show leader.

It worked for a few minutes, Victor standing there with his arms folded and staring down the little ice twink because he need a babysitter to make sure he didn't, what? Trap them all in there? Sounded like him. Sounded like Clone him.

Vic didn't kill people by suffocation. He was more hands on than that.

He eventually followed the others inside- he followed Hank. He hadn't been this close since the quiet night spent in Hank's room, watching him sleep... maybe doing a little more. Regardless, he clung to the familiar scent like a child with a favorite blanket, following it through the maze, focusing on it more than the smells around him that set his teeth on edge and made his nails itch.

It smelled like he'd broken off from the main group, or Scrotus Summers told them to split up. He followed him down a corridor, hands opening and closing, nails digging into his palms. Then he dared to ask, "Babe?"

[nightmarefuele]

@brooklynislandgirl x.

She thinks she hides herself so well. She might even believe it. Maybe it should be a point to his pride that he's a rare capable; does pushing his palm past the surface chill her to a shiver like it tries to him?

He'd like to estrange Beth from her own secrets.

But deciphering whether she holds him above or traps him below has a habit of becoming its own chore, the paradox of knowing her.

'The wall', Jonathan also knows, is one of many pitiable defects about the human psyche, common as wither in autumn. A mind assures to itself the membrane of a shield. But in this it dissociates. There, he's never found a challenge.

Beth's wall is multi-dimensional. He peels layers away— deftly, carefully, an eidolon or a tall tale in a malnourished, wafer body— and others materialize in their places. It's like following a tail through a maze, before the hedges take on the animal fur, the creature skin. It's like wanting.

How would he like to be caught lost in the dark. Unknowing, but known. How would he like to be wanting.

Unlikely. As unlikely as saying 'He. Understands.'

She's up and moving and it gets him just as ice-still. Bl-ink-ing. His left thumb tip twitches when she shoulders her bag by its practical sling. All one beatless moment,

and Jonathan's where he always, itching, sleepless night-thing he is,

—he's thinking—

How attractive she looks when she's this bare. Vulnerability only in fibers, but then she's naked.

She's gone. Sound of a bell crying.

And Jonathan's out in the cloud-damp cold sweat day. His body's still syncing through its first lunge. His hands are empty. Filled with questions without names. He's carried out on the wind's bitter tine with surgical sterility. It recognizes him. At his best, Jonathan tastes like winter.

He catches the ledge of Beth's elbow. His fingers feel softer at the cloth. There's human under here. She doesn't make it to the light at the corner.

“Stop. We don't have to.”

Held by the damp in the wind. Muscle memory for something he's never said. It might mean something else. His eyes might say this. His voice hangnails in his chest.

[finnissilly]

Triple threat - dnd campaign updates (4)

The boys are back in town

Last part is here:

session 15? (I don’t remember):

We get to the silver dragons lair and he introduces himself as Avoraxx, tells us that his wrymling son Syle was taken by a bunch of circus people who he invited into his home in thinking they were just harmless adventurers and stuff but nope they steal his son.

He told us he’d reward us and whatnot if we rescued his son and then asked if we could help him by being “pest control” (harpies) and how they’d made their way into the mountain and made their nest and he was tired of hearing them in his walls.

So we went into the maze of the walls, and found our way to where the harpies were. We all made makeshift earplugs and tried climbing up this rocky wall to where they were- unfortunately. Blooper failed a stealth? Survival? (I don’t recall) check and fell on some ice stuff which made the harpies start to sing louder as we got up.

Orion and Miles (despite having advantage due to ear plugs) both got lured- Orion who thought he saw his little sister and Miles who thought he saw his brother and his best friend. The two started uncontrollably sobbing and going after these illusions of their family/friends.

Luckily Orion very soon was able to succeed a save as he bonked into a tabaxi skull and realized “oh shit wait a minute” as for Miles- that man almost got carried away by a harpy until Blooper was able to cast blindness/deafness on Miles, so he couldn’t hear the song anymore. (I rolled a 4 on my wisdom save and I was so happy to fail) after that- Orion and Miles basically beat the shit out of the harpies.

Blooper tried to help but he mainly remained idle during the fight. Also Blooper got really hurt during this fight too (I think he got down to like 16 HP)

Miles was able to kill the mother harpy and used one of the whistle arrows he’d gotten to scare off a majority of the other harpies to fly off.

After the mom died- all the harpies began circling at the top above the mountain, Blooper used thaumaturgy to yell “your mother is dead, leave”

And they did, everyone left and we made our way back to Avoraxx, who was very delighted that his pest problem was taken care of and gave us a small scoop of his horde as reward, and we noticed he was Messing with a crystal ball- but not knowing what to do with it, we all managed to persuade him into letting him give us the ball so we could mess with it to see what was up.

We all spoke at it in different languages until Blooper spoke primordial to it- and that woke it up. Which we realized that this ball is like a sentient person.

Avoraxx then tried talking to it but after not getting answers he just threw the ball off to the side and complained about how it “wasn’t doing what it’s made to do”

Anyway, he offered us the ball if we were able to bring back his son.

Session 16:

We climbed down the mountain and made camp before hearing a call for help, initially thinking it might be a trap but it wasn’t- we found a gnome (or dwarf I literally don’t remember) trapped under a tree, and helped him out.

His leg was pretty messed up and he was cold and tired.

We made him a makeshift brace for his leg and let him camp with us for the night.

He told us his group probably wasn’t far away and that he was apart of the merchants guild as well- except he was from the ivory city. (Main city) and that this was enough for him. He was done and wanted to go home and not do adventuring anymore.

We were able to find his camp and they gave us food and cold weather gear.

And asked if we could go out and find their survey team who was surveying right outside the underdark in exchange for gold.

We agreed and went to find them.

Upon reaching the site- the ground was very odd looking, like many many holes (like cheese basically) in a tundra.

Quickly finding a group of terrified people hiding in a hole telling us that something killed their friends.

We also actively while walking on the surface felt something moving below us.

We got them out the hole and saw a baby Remorhazes (I think that’s the name?) this fucker killed a survey team person in one round (it did like 26 damage on one attack and ate a guy)

Anyways, Orion turned into a small housecat and zoomed in the opposite direction of the group while Miles ran the other way.

Ofc this thing followed Miles, and Miles was face to face with this creature.

He just kept running and bookin it, but then it turned to the survey team who isn’t moving and easy weak targets.

Orion saw this going down and ran back by turning into a panther, able to save one of the members as he ran back.

We only were able to save one person, but all three of us were fine.

I don’t remember how Blooper got off the map. But he did somehow.

We then went back to the camp and told them what was up, they thought it was weird that this creature was this far out here as it’s too cold for them here.

Which we suspected since it was a BABY and that it was so far out- mom must’ve had like a ton of kids and they all just kept moving out as their colony got bigger. (Like wreck-it Ralph)

Session 17:

We started making our way back to Valica and on the journey were stopped as we found a group of people in like full armor and stuff- looking like they were gonna kill something extreme.

This elf on a horse came and talked to us about how we shouldn’t go to Valica because of the dragon attack and we explained we actually came from Valica and were now coming back- this guy was confused as he didn’t see us come up on the trail from Valica.

But he wished us luck on our journey back.

Turns out that was the prince Zalastar and he was leading a dragon hunt.

Anyway, made our way back to Valica and the town was recovering from the dragon attack. We went to talk to Korg and Og to tell them that we were okay and what was going on.

Og seemed to have a merchants guild badge and a rank higher than us in it because he was actively helping out.

Korg was happy to see us and surprised we weren’t dead, and ofc we explained the situations to both of them.

We went to the local jail to see the circus people, Orion decided to turn into a panther for this to terrify them more.

We go in, after a few questions and Orion making them shit themselves by just messing with them and living up to the “demon cat” allegations, as well as persuading the prisoners with drugs (mushrooms). We found that there was a head of the circus named Thaal and he’d probably know about what we wanted to know.

We then- found Vizorazz in the jail as well, who was very pissed at us until we explained “yeah man you were just kinda. There.” And we bailed him out of jail as he promised to give us gold, we got his stuff back for him and he took us to a back alley where he had a box with a pouch of barely any gold left which he was pissed at since he figured his drow druid crime partner- took his share (her name is Nala) but we took some of his remaining gold, and gave him one of the poisonous mushroom drugs as well. And he was off and promised us a favor.

We made it to the building where Thaal was assumed to be, it was basically an office space building and we very soon found him.

He was an air genasi kinda dressed like a clown.

He wasn’t giving us any information and we got really frustrated with him. Until Blooper basically bullied him into fighting us.

Which we *mainly* played on defense the whole fight.

Blooper got shot out of his office by an air? Wave? Thing? He got pushed out really hard and hit the railing before falling back into someone’s desk on the first floor.

Orion used his dagger like once or twice within the fight while Miles just punched the guy like once.

We couldn’t let him die since he had info we needed.

Blooper talked to the crowd about what’d happened (kinda deceiving them leaving out that he made fun of bro) anyways, a paladin came to help us in our fight.

Thaal tried to deceive the paladin and say like “they’re attacking me :(“ but, Orion cast charm person on him.

We’d explain later.

So paladin helped us out and actually ended up killing Thaal by complete accident (he used divine smite and his sword didn’t stop going) Miles called out for a cleric with revivify, and luckily since clerics were called when Blooper fuckin fell like a Dingus- clerics were already being called and Thaal was able to get revivified.

He said how “there’s nothing left after this life” and talked about becoming a slime person which.

Means he’s a lawful evil person.

We finally got out the information about the dragon and he told us the dragon was in Arinthia and boom Thaal gets in trouble for being responsible for the dragon attack.

Orion dispelled the charm as the guards were coming to arrest both the paladin and Thaal.

Orion said “I’m sorry… I didn’t know what else to do…” and tried explaining, the paladin understood but now he was getting arrested and he lost his job.

We felt bad so we decided to talk to the inquisitors the next day to plead his case and bail him out.

Turns out the inquisitor was apart of a organization that goes as far as torturing and killing the guilty. (Miles knows this because he is a criminal and had to deal with these guys before)

The inquisitor was a really buff tiefling woman and we pleaded his case the next day, explaining the whole situation and she got into some details about laws and spells and all that and we were able to get him out.

He was surprised to see us and we explained how we felt bad and wanted to help him out, we didn’t ask for anything in return but he felt in-debted to us. The only thing we asked was that he teach Orion how to use a scythe. (I completely forgot to mention we went to the ivory city. We went shopping there- that’s how Orion got his scythe. Miles got alcohol and we also heard about portals opening up north in Arinthia, also there was a big underdark mine in ivory city.)

The paladin was surprised that, that’s all we wanted from him.

He introduced himself as Theodrin but we all just call him Theo, and he’s a half elf paladin of Ilmator.

He started traveling with us and Miles asked if he’d ever met any other paladins and asked if he met a 5’5 drow paladin with a wooden prosthetic leg (referring to his brother) and Theo said yes- that he met someone with that description about a month ago, heading to Arinthia as he was looking for someone in the shadowfell and that he was really nice and helped Theo out with some bandits.

Sounded like an exact match for Miles’ younger brother.

Session 18:

We helped out at the merchants guild for a little bit before grabbing Theo and going to our journey to Arinthia, Theo also explained that he knew a silver dragon wouldn’t had done this, and we found out that Theo’s hyperfixation was on dragons so. Bro knows a lot about dragons.

Anyway, first day of traveling went fine.

Night went bad though.

As Miles was watching over the campsite, (4 hour nap was over) he saw someone shuffling just outside of his dark vision and then a lizardfolk tried to kill him from behind.

Fun.

Everyone else woke up and saw the fight goin down. I think Miles went to like 9 HP, bro wasn’t lookin too good.

Anyways after beating these two up, tying them up and taking their shit they explained how they were assassins hired to kill Miles and that they got an in from the merchants guild saying Miles was heading this way.

They figured it’d be easy but yk it’s a full on party of people, just just one guy.

Theo was happy at first saying how he “knew he joined the right adventuring party” since we didn’t kill these guys and stabilized them initially. But yk. Then finding out Miles is infact a wantef criminal on the run and wanted for (accidental) terrorism and stuff. Theo wasn’t happy about that and Blooper and Miles did try to explain what really went on after we set the two assassins go- (we took all their stuff though)

Miles went back to do a long rest (which luckily is only a 4 hour nap for him) because he was so low on health.

We talked some more to Theo about what really happened and asked him some more about Miles’ brother Kilo.

(Haha get it, Miles and Kilometers. I’m so funny)

We were about to pass by the main city again- ivory city and didn’t really want to go in since they gave Miles a hard time at first, but when we went in the second time Theo was able to quickly explain that we needed in and whatnot. (I think we came here to stock up on supplies) we then heard about a monster of some sort terrorizing the mines and preventing the people from generating any new minerals for trade and whatnot. But that was basically it.

We bought some tents and that was that.

Theo bought us all rooms, and we decided to open up the book that Quintillious gave to Orion.

We did show this book to Avoraxx and he told us that this was like a terrible book that even some gods have banned this book. That this book could rewrite time itself and the universe as we know it. That being said- we all tried to open it. Then it got to Orion, and he was able to open it but he fell through the book into like a pocket dimension from within the book.

Everything was dark and Orion then saw a pair of red eyes from the darkness.

Whatever this thing was- it was huge and it had extremely long fingers. And he was asking Orion for a way out. Which Orion didn’t want to do, and tried to leave multiple times but he was unsuccessful and this thing had now fused with Orion’s body. The two becoming one.

He gasped away from the book and slammed it on the ground and curled up in a ball yelling “get out of my head” Blooper and Miles were very confused as for their point of view just saw Orion casually reading a book and calmly saying “give me a minute-“ when asked what the book said.

Anyways so Orion is possessed.

Miles decided to stay the night with Orion because he only needs 4 hours sleep and Orion spoke about how he didn’t want to be alone.

Orion barely was able to sleep, having constant nightmares of this thing where, he wasn’t in his own body and in some kind of war where there were literally rivers of blood and people yelling at him which he understood somehow and just kept killing these creatures in this war.

He also- knew something about Orion as well.

This book, was told to be written by Vecna when he was alive and that’s all we know.

Also that when Orion spoke in abyssal to this book it kinda perked up. And now Orion was proficient in arcana.

Fun stuff.

Also during the night Miles saw Orion sit up- do a big stretch, bigger than he’s ever seen Orion do before before rolling over, smiling and going back to sleep.

Not ominous.

At all.

Next morning Theo questioned Orion’s behavior since he was so tired, and Theo asked if he was sick, which.

I guess is one way to put it.

Theo offered to make soup which- I love this man but Miles interjected by saying “not that kinda sick” which- Theo seemed to kinda? Get the idea?

Anyway. I think that was it for that session?

[harmonyhealinghub]

Terror in Verse: A Collection of Horror Poetry Shaina Tranquilino October 29, 2023 Enter the realm of darkness, where shadows dance and nightmares come alive. As the autumn leaves fall and the moon casts its eerie glow, a chilling collection awaits those brave enough to delve into its pages. "Terror in Verse: A Collection of Horror Poetry" by Shaina Tranquilino, will send shivers down your spine and awaken the deepest fears within you. With Halloween on the horizon, this haunting compilation captures the essence of terror through rhythmic words and macabre imagery. Join me as we explore the realms of horror poetry, where every line is a portal to another dimension of fear. You can also purchase this poetry book on Amazon and Kindle. You may look up, "Terror in Verse: A Collection of Horror Poetry by Shaina Tranquilino", and it should come up. Thank you!

The Haunted House In the dead of night, where shadows creep,

There stands a house, all secrets keep.

Its windows cracked, its roof worn thin,

A haunted dwelling, filled with sin.

The moon above casts an eerie glow,

As whispers echo from down below.

The walls, they tremble with tales untold,

Of ghostly spirits and legends bold.

Step through the door, but beware your soul,

For in this place, darkness takes its toll.

The floors do creak with every step made,

As if the ghosts beneath them never fade.

The air is heavy, thick with despair,

It seeps through cracks and fills the stale air.

Each room tells stories of sorrow and dread,

Where restless spirits reside instead.

In one corner sits a broken chair,

Rocking back and forth without a care.

Its presence mocks the living's plight,

As if it laughs at our futile fight.

Shadows dance upon the peeling wall,

Their twisted forms haunt one and all.

They slither around like serpents sly,

Whispering secrets that make you cry.

Through dim-lit halls, echoes resound,

A symphony of fear that knows no bound.

Ghosts flit past, their figures fleeting,

Leaving behind an icy feeling.

In hidden chambers lies lost souls' plea,

Yearning for freedom yet never set free.

Their mournful cries pierce through the night,

Desperate to escape eternal fright.

But amidst this terror-filled domain,

Hope flickers like a dying flame.

For in this haunted house's core,

Lies strength to face what lies in store.

With courage held tight within your heart,

Navigate this maze where nightmares start.

Confront those fears that seek to bind,

And leave this haunting far behind.

For as dawn breaks and daylight gleams,

The haunted house fades into dreams.

Tales whispered now become folklore lore

Of a place feared once, but not anymore.

The Witch’s Curse In a realm where shadows dance,

Lived a witch who entranced,

With raven hair and eyes of coal,

She cast a spell upon her soul.

A curse she bore, deep within,

A darkness thrived beneath her skin,

For when the moon's silver light did gleam,

The witch would awaken from her dream.

Her touch, like ice upon the flesh,

Would bring despair with every breath,

And those who dared to cross her path,

Were met with terror, pain, and wrath.

Her cackling laughter echoed wide,

As fear consumed all far and wide,

In every village, dark tales were spun,

Of the cursed witch beneath the sun.

No heart could warm amidst her gaze,

Nor kindness break through wicked haze,

For vengeance fueled her twisted plight,

To spread chaos, both day and night.

With potions brewed in cauldrons black,

She summoned demons from their track,

Their haunting cries pierced through the air,

Foretelling doom to all who'd dare.

But deep inside that cursed core,

Lay fragments of love she had before.

A tragedy had marked her past

And turned her gentle heart so vast.

Once fair and pure, with magic bright,

She stood against injustice's blight.

But envy's venom stained her name

And bound her spirit in eternal flame.

Now trapped within this endless curse,

Her power grew for better or worse.

Yet loneliness consumed her days

As darkness shrouded ancient ways.

Through barren woods and foggy glen

She wandered aimlessly again.

Seeking solace but finding none

In a world where hatred freely won.

Yet whispers tell of one brave soul

Who sought to heal what was once whole.

A hero bold, with courage grand

Stood tall against that wicked hand.

With sword unsheathed and armor strong,

He fought for right amidst the wrong.

His heart ablaze with noble fire

To quench the witch's dark desire.

Their paths converged, a fateful night,

In a battle fierce, devoid of light.

But love's resilience broke the spell,

And shattered darkness where it fell.

The curse was lifted from her heart,

As they embraced and never did part.

For in compassion's gentle sway,

The witch found peace, come what may.

No longer feared, she walked with grace,

A smile adorned upon her face.

From darkness born, but now redeemed,

She helped others find light unseen.

So let this tale forever stand

As a reminder to all in this land,

That even curses can be reversed,

With love and hope, they are dispersed.

The Monster Under the Bed In the twilight hour, when shadows dance,

A child's imagination takes a chance.

Beneath the covers, wide eyes start to gleam,

For there lies a secret, a terrifying theme.

Within the realm of dreams so wild,

Resides a monster, fearsome and styled.

Underneath the bed, where darkness prevails,

It hides in silence, its presence never fails.

With every creak that echoes through the night,

The child trembles, consumed by fright.

Imagined claws that scrape against the floor,

Whispered growls creeping closer than before.

What does it look like? The child wonders deep,

A creature fierce with fangs that sharply peep?

Or perhaps an entity made of shadows' might,

An amorphous beast concealing in the night?

Its shape is unknown, just a figment of dread,

Yet within youthful mind, it grows widespread.

A monster born from stories or tales untold,

Ignited by fear as imagination takes hold.

The child's breath quickens as heartbeats race,

Lost in nightmares this haunting space.

But beneath the trembling surface of fear,

Lies bravery waiting to appear.

Determined now to face this lurking foe,

The child gathers courage before letting go.

A leap of faith into the great unknown,

To confront what lurks beneath their very own throne.

Peering under blankets' fortress fortressed embrace,

With quivering hands revealing hidden grace.

But lo! Nothing waits but dust and despair,

No monster dwells below with wicked stare.

Gone are ghoulish creatures and feral roars,

Vanquished illusions once feared like wars.

For under beds lie worlds yet unexplored,

Where fears transform into lessons adored.

Oh, little one with innocence so bright,

Remember each shadow may not be your fight.

Though monsters may dwell in corners unseen,

Your light will conquer them; you reign supreme.

For monsters, dear child, are mere illusions,

Fuelled by the mind's fantastical confusions.

So fear not what hides beneath your bed,

Embrace dreams and nightmares, let imagination spread.

And know that bravery lies within your soul,

Ready to conquer fears that may take their toll.

In the darkest nights, remember this refrain:

The monster under your bed is but a child's bane.

The Mirror’s Reflection In a chamber filled with shadows deep,

Where twisted secrets and whispers creep,

There hangs a mirror, tarnished and old,

A portal to realms where darkness unfolds.

Gaze upon this glass, but beware the sight,

For it holds no truth within its light.

No mere reflection of oneself you'll find,

But doppelgangers that haunt your mind.

Once, I dared to peer into its face,

Seeking solace in its hallowed space.

Yet what emerged from that abyssal void

Was not my visage, but something more annoyed.

An entity, sinister and cold as ice,

With eyes devoid of warmth or any vice.

Its features mirrored mine in every way,

But darkness masked the soul it portrayed.

The mirror's power revealed these vile twins,

Whose wicked grins concealed their hidden sins.

They danced before me, mocking my existence,

Twisting my thoughts with their eerie persistence.

Their voices echoed through the hollow air,

Telling tales of despair beyond compare.

Each word dripped venom like a serpent's tongue,

As they revelled in the misery they had flung.

I tried to break free from this dreadful trance,

To shatter the mirror's cursed advance.

But each attempt only multiplied their might,

As if they fed on my desperate fight.

Haunted by these doppelgangers' cruel gaze,

I felt their malevolence begin to graze

Upon my sanity, devouring hope and peace,

Leaving behind an emptiness that wouldn't cease.

What once was beauty turned into decay,

As the mirror consumed my life's display.

Now lost within this labyrinthine maze,

Forever trapped beneath its beguiling haze.

So heed this warning when you chance upon

A mirror whose reflections have all gone wrong.

Look deeply through its deceptive guise;

It may reveal truths we dare not recognize.

The Abandoned Asylum In shadows deep, where secrets sleep,

A place forgotten, memories weep.

An asylum stands, long lost in time,

Where tortured souls forever mime.

Once vibrant walls now cracked and worn,

Echoed laughter of those once reborn.

But now it breathes a haunting sigh,

Whispering tales, the reasons why.

Unveiling darkness that dwells within,

The ghosts arise, their spirits thin.

Through creaking halls, they softly glide,

Their mournful cries can't be denied.

Within these walls, despair resides,

Where sanity's tether slowly slides.

Tales untold beneath layers of dust,

Of lives erased, consumed by distrust.

Eyes peer through foggy panes of glass,

Mirroring pain from the distant past.

Voices linger on every breeze,

Invisible chains that never cease.

Ghosts wander aimlessly through each room,

Bound to this realm, trapped in their gloom.

Faces etched with anguish and dread,

Seeking solace in dreams long dead.

A symphony of sorrow fills the air,

Resonating with a tragic flair.

Whispers echo down dim-lit corridors,

Revealing fragments of tormented wars.

What secrets lie behind locked doors?

What horrors haunt these desolate floors?

With trembling steps, I journey forth,

To uncover truths hidden henceforth.

Beyond the veil of crumbling decay,

I delve into the unknown astray.

Each step unearths more chilling sights,

As phantoms dance in pale moonlight.

Visions flicker like candle flames ablaze,

Guiding me through this spectral maze.

The abandoned asylum reveals its heart;

Its darkened chambers set apart.

Yet amidst despair and ghostly plight,

A glimmer shines amid endless night.

For buried deep within this forsaken space

Lie remnants of love's enduring grace.

Amidst the wails and anguished cries

Are whispers of hope that never dies.

In the abandoned asylum's darkest hour,

A beacon of light reveals its power.

Though tortured souls may forever roam,

Within these walls, a sense of home.

The secrets unveiled, though chilling and grim,

Remind us to cherish life's fragile hymn.

The Vengeful Spirit In shadows deep, where spirits dwell,

A tale of vengeance I now shall tell.

Of a vengeful spirit, lost in strife,

Seeking revenge on those who wronged their life.

Once a soul adorned with love and grace,

Now wreathed in darkness, seeking solace.

Betrayed by kin, deceived by trust,

Their heart once pure, now turned to dust.

An innocent heart that beat so strong,

Now seeks retribution for all that went wrong.

With eyes ablaze like fiery stars above,

This spirit yearns to reclaim their lost love.

Through ethereal realms they swiftly glide,

Searching for souls steeped in false pride.

Whispering through the night's cold breeze,

Promises of torment and eternal unease.

The first on their list is a treacherous lover,

Who shattered their dreams like fragile glass cover.

Deception dripped from their honeyed tongue,

But now the vengeful spirit will see justice done.

They haunt their nights with ghostly wails,

And cast upon them nightmares that never fail.

For every tear shed in anguish and despair,

The vengeful spirit takes pleasure, as fair.

Next on the ledger is a friend turned foe,

Who stabbed the spirit's back with a venomous blow.

Behind gentle smiles hid wicked intent,

Now it's time for payback, an act heaven-sent.

They whisper in echoes within their mind,

Driving them mad until they're confined

To a world of guilt and unending regret

For betraying the bond they can never forget.

Lastly, there lies an enemy old and vile,

Who revelled in cruelty with a twisted smile.

Their actions caused pain beyond repair,

But now it's time for the vengeful spirit to share.

With wrath burning bright as an inferno's flame,

They confront this monster without any shame.

Wrapping tendrils around their darkened soul,

Extracting revenge to make them feel whole.

But as they unleash their vengeful might,

A realization dawns, shining so bright.

Revenge may bring solace, a fleeting release,

But the spirit's heart still longs for inner peace.

In the end, they find no satisfaction there,

Only emptiness and a lingering despair.

For revenge cannot mend what was torn apart,

Nor heal the wounds etched on an injured heart.

So now this vengeful spirit must find a way

To let go of vengeance and seek a brighter day.

To rise beyond anger, resentment, and strife,

And embrace forgiveness, reclaiming their life.

For in forgiveness lies true strength and grace,

A path to redemption, an eternal embrace.

May this tale remind us all to break free

From the chains of vengeance and let our spirits be.

The Doll’s Revenge In the twilight's hush, a tale unfolds,

Of secrets whispered and truths untold.

Beware the doll with eyes so bright,

For when darkness falls, it seeks its right.

A porcelain beauty, once loved and adored,

Now teems with vengeance as her spirit soared.

Her delicate frame conceals a sinister might,

As moonlight embraces her wicked plight.

Unbeknownst to all who slumber near,

The doll awakens, fueled by malice and fear.

Silent footsteps echo upon wooden floors,

While innocence shreds behind closed doors.

With each tick of time, her presence grows,

A puppeteer's hand guiding her morose prose.

She dances through shadows in eerie grace,

Leaving traces of chaos and despair in her chase.

Drawers are ransacked, heirlooms destroyed,

Whispers of terror on every corner deployed.

A symphony of shattered glass fills the air,

As she revels in mayhem without a care.

Once cherished laughter now yields to fright,

As creaking floorboards ignite sheer delight.

Innocent dreams tainted by this malevolent spree,

For the doll's revenge knows no mercy or plea.

Oh, the owners tremble beneath their sheets,

Haunted by nightmares where dread repeats.

They sense her gaze, those lifeless eyes gleam,

Piercing their souls like an unholy scream.

But amidst this madness lies a glimmer of hope,

An ember that flickers where darkness elopes.

For love still lingers within human hearts' core,

A beacon to fight what they cannot ignore.

United they gather with courage anew,

To break free from the hold of this vengeful coup.

They search for solace amid whispers of woe,

To banish this doll back to depths below.

Through incantations and prayers unspoken,

They weave ancient spells 'til dawn has broken.

Binding her spirit in threads of light,

They reclaim their haven from eternal night.

In the morning's embrace, a calm does descend,

The doll now dormant, her vengeance to suspend.

Yet, in every creak and whisper of breeze,

Lingers a tale of darkness that none can appease.

So heed this warning, wary souls take heed,

For possessed dolls lurk where nightmares breed.

Beware those toys with eyes so serene,

For beneath their façade lies a sinister queen.

The Shadow Man In the realm of darkness, where secrets reside,

Lurks a haunting figure that none can hide.

The Shadow Man, with eyes like midnight's abyss,

Cloaked in ebony, his presence amiss.

He creeps through alleyways and dim-lit streets,

A ghostly silhouette that your soul meets.

Whispering shadows cling to his every stride,

As fear takes hold, and trust starts to slide.

Wherever you wander, he is always there,

A chilling companion for each step you dare.

Paranoia dances upon your trembling skin,

As the Shadow Man's presence weaves within.

His footsteps silent, like echoes from beyond,

An enigma lurking where sanity responds.

With every breath you take, his coldness nears,

Unseen but felt, as dread interferes.

He hides within corners and beneath moon's glow,

Watching your every move as nightmares grow.

No face to recognize, no features to name,

Yet his essence seeps into your very frame.

Your heart skips beats when shadows intertwine,

Beneath the moonlit sky or flickering street sign.

His ethereal touch sends shivers down your spine,

A presence so eerie, it defies any design.

The whispers echo louder inside your mind's wall,

Sowing seeds of doubt and paranoia's call.

Are they figments of imagination run wild?

Or does the Shadow Man truly seek to beguile?

Each nightfall sneaks closer with a malevolent grace,

Leaving behind traces of fear on your face.

You glimpse him in mirrors and reflections askew,

A shadowy specter forever pursuing you.

His intentions remain veiled in mystery's haze,

Is he a harbinger of doom or merely a phase?

But one thing remains clear amidst this gloom:

The Shadow Man's presence heralds impending doom.

So beware the darkness that clings close at hand,

For the Shadow Man may soon make his stand.

In every corner, he waits for your fear to ignite,

A chilling reminder of the eternal night.

The Sinister Clown In the realm where shadows dance and darkness weaves,

A circus of nightmares, a sinister reprieve.

Beneath a tattered tent, where moonlight dares to peep,

Exists a twisted mind, where secrets truly creep.

The Sinister Clown, with painted grin so wide,

Lures innocent souls, entices them inside.

His laughter echoes through the corridors of dread,

As children follow him, their footsteps filled with dread.

With crimson eyes that gleam, like fire in the night,

He beckons them closer, his presence full of fright.

His macabre carnival awaits those who dare,

To venture into madness, to taste despair.

The children's hearts flutter like fragile wings,

As they enter the circus of forbidden things.

Their innocence stolen by this fiendish host,

They succumb to his charm, like puppets engrossed.

Behind those lurid hues lies treachery untamed,

A labyrinth of nightmares where darkness is named.

He spins illusions with every wicked smile,

Ensnaring young minds in his malevolent guile.

Through halls adorned with cobwebs and decayed dreams,

Whispers of lost innocence drift on unseen streams.

Tales whispered softly by forgotten clowns long passed,

Of lives extinguished too soon, forever masked.

Within this grotesque world built upon deceit,

The Sinister Clown finds pleasure as dark memories repeat.

He toys with their fears and preys upon their trust,

Feeding on their anguish and turning it to dust.

But amidst the terror that reigns within these walls,

Hope flickers faintly as courage silently calls.

For deep within each child resides strength untold,

A spark that can ignite against evil's stronghold.

So let us delve into the twisted mind that yearns

To lure children into his macabre circus turns.

But remember well this tale of fear and woe:

That even sinister clowns can be overthrown.

For in the battle between darkness and light,

The innocent shall rise, empowered by their fight.

And though the Sinister Clown may cackle with delight,

In the end, his wicked reign shall fade into the night.

The Ominous Forest In the depths of twilight's grasp, where shadows dance and twine,

There lies a realm untouched by light, where darkness intertwines.

An ominous forest stands aloof, its secrets yet untold,

Where eerie whispers echo through the trees so old.

Within this somber woodland, strange creatures softly creep,

Their eyes aglow with mystery, their movements slow and deep.

Whispered tales speak of phantom beasts who dwell within these lands,

Creatures born from moonlit dreams and woven fairy strands.

The ancient oaks stand tall and proud, guardians of the night,

Silent sentinels that watch as specters take their flight.

Their branches twist like skeletal arms, reaching for the sky,

As if to grasp the ethereal mist that silently drifts by.

Beneath the canopy's embrace, a symphony awakes,

With haunting melodies on wind that send shivers through each glade.

Leaves rustle in a ghostly choir, harmonizing fears,

While footsteps fade into a murmur like long-forgotten tears.

A chorus of nocturnal creatures sings songs both sweet and grim,

Their voices carry secrets lost in darkness' deepest hymn.

Phantasmal orbs float aimlessly in spectral haze untamed,

Guiding wanderers through twisted paths until they are disclaimed.

Beware! The whispers caution those who dare to trespass here,

For legends tell of souls ensnared forevermore, held dear

By spirits lurking in the gloom, forever seeking solace,

Thirsting for lost company within this haunted palace.

Yet still some venture forth despite this chilling plea,

Drawn to mysteries unknown or driven by audacity.

Through foggy wisps and tangled roots they tread with trembling steps,

Into the heart of shadow’s realm where nightmares lie unkept.

For those who seek adventure in realms beyond our sight,

The ominous forest beckons under pale moonlight.

But heed my words, dear traveller, and tread with utmost care,

For this enchanted labyrinth whispers secrets of despair.

The Ghost Ship In the realm where twilight embraces night's repose,

Where tempests snarl and turbulent oceans impose,

A ghostly ship emerges from ethereal mists,

Sailing through stormy seas, where darkness persists.

Its tattered sails flutter, whispers in the gale,

Manned by spectral sailors, souls lost without a trail,

Bound to wander forever in this nautical purgatory,

A haunting tale etched upon their faces, weary and hoary.

Their eyes hold secrets of forgotten days gone by,

Echoes of lives lived once, now fade and slowly die.

The ship creaks and groans like a mournful wail,

As it plows through currents that tell an ancient tale.

The captain at the helm, his visage worn with age,

Guiding this vessel cursed, trapped within its cage.

His hands grip the wheel with an eternal resolve,

Steering towards an unknown fate that cannot absolve.

And amidst the raging tempest's thunderous roar,

Whispers of long-lost stories echo from each shore.

For these spectral sailors are prisoners of their past,

Condemned to sail forever till eternity is surpassed.

They search for solace in their soulless existence,

Yearning for release from their endless persistence.

But storms continue to thrash as they drift away,

Forever doomed to voyage beneath skies so gray.

Yet within their hollow hearts remains a flicker of hope,

That one day destiny will grant them scope.

To break free from this spectral ship's eternal plight,

To find redemption in celestial realms' pure light.

So let us ponder on this ghostly maritime crew,

Lost souls condemned to sail where no land is in view.

May we remember them as symbols of our own despair,

And strive to find liberation from burdens we bear.

Whispers of Death in Shadows Deep In shadows deep, where darkness dwells,

A chilling tale of death foretells.

Whispered echoes through the night,

Of souls entwined in endless fright.

Death's icy grip, a cruel embrace,

As life's breath fades without a trace.

A haunting specter, silent and cold,

Claims its victims, young and old.

In moonlit graves, they lie at rest,

Their bodies still, their souls distressed.

The Reaper's scythe cuts through the air,

Harvesting lives with utmost care.

Beneath the moon's pale ghastly glow,

Lost spirits wander to and fro.

Their mournful cries fill empty tombs,

Doomed to roam eternal gloom.

Eyes hollow and vacant, devoid of light,

They yearn for solace in endless night.

Tormented whispers crawl on the breeze,

Tales of horror that only death sees.

Each step taken brings them closer still,

To realms unknown beyond life's will.

The abyss awaits with open arms,

To swallow whole those who meet harm.

No escape from this macabre land,

Where time stands still, fate firmly planned.

For death is but a fearsome guide,

Leading us all to the other side.

So heed my warning, mortal soul beware,

Embrace each moment with utmost care.

For when your time comes, as it surely will,

Death's chilling touch you cannot fulfill.

Whispers of Endings In the shadows of twilight's eerie glow,

Whispers dance, as darkness starts to grow.

The air turns cold, a chill grips my soul,

For in this realm, endings take their toll.

Through haunted halls and corridors of dread,

I tread softly, where restless spirits spread.

Their mournful cries pierce through the night,

Echoing fears with each flickering light.

Oh, how endings weave their somber tales,

Of shattered dreams and forgotten trails.

A symphony of anguish fills the void,

As hope decays, by fear's grip destroyed.

The final gasp that escapes our lips,

When life succumbs to its fatal eclipse.

An abyss opens wide, devouring all,

Leaving naught but despair for us to recall.

Gone are the days of laughter and cheer,

Replaced by dread and paralyzing fear.

Like a cruel puppeteer controlling fate,

Endings arrive with a venomous weight.

They linger in shadows, waiting to strike,

Feasting on souls with an insatiable spite.

No escape from their relentless embrace,

As they revel in pain with unholy grace.

Each ending is a tale untold,

Of broken hearts and dreams gone cold.

They wrap around us like a shroud so tight,

Constricting breaths, extinguishing light.

So beware those endings lurking near,

For they hold nightmares we cannot bear.

In every corner, every twist and bend,

They lie in wait until time shall transcend.

And when your journey meets its bitter end,

Remember this warning I now extend:

Embrace life's beauty before it fades away, For horror lies within each ending's dismay.

[snoffyy]

Possible prompts: - shoreline - unfettered - hang up thy sword

What about all three 👀

The years passed, like the tinkle of sand in an hourglass. Grain by grain, seemingly slow, but relentless, nonetheless. Yue had watched the former admiral rebuild his life piece by piece, from a dismal, tattered hut to a humble abode. She’d watched him swallow his pride and learn to hunt, sew his own clothes, barter with the locals. No matter how hostile he was to them, he’d begrudgingly built a life in the tribe.

But without fail, every sunrise, she would watch him wander to the shoreline and stare into the fathomless depths of the waters, holding a flame in his hands. A mere bud of light, flickering merrily in his palms, only extinguishing when the sun had fully risen into the sky.

And every time she asked him what had captured his attention so, he would say in a weary, forlorn voice, “To remember.”

Deep beneath the waves were the skeletons of a fleet, countless souls trapped beneath the ice.

It came then, one day, that Yue was informed of her new betrothal. But something squirmed inside her at the prospect of another entrapment, another man she was under the jurisdiction of, just another woman who put her head down, a pretty little doll subservient to her husband’s whims.

For change was a beast in the Northern Water Tribe, far more hostile than any creature prowling in the tundra. Katara had been a change. Not the change, but a change. And as much as Yue wished otherwise, change didn’t happen overnight, especially for a woman in her position.

But what did happen one night, was a spontaneous idea that came to her while she was watching Zhao hold his little fire. An idea that, inane as it was, latched onto Yue and refused to let go.

“Would you want to leave?”

Zhao laughed despondently. “To where? If I return to the Fire Nation, I have much to answer for. Same for the Earth Kingdom. And I doubt the Air Temples would welcome me with open arms.”

Yue stepped closer, basking in the warmth that radiated off him. “What if we sail together?”

Once upon a time, she had been offered to travel with the Avatar and his friends. She had refused due to her obligations, but a small part of herself had always wondered where she would be now, if she had taken up that offer, if she would now be part of something bigger than herself.

But she had not, and now she was here while the Avatar and his friends were off being the champions of the world.

Zhao stared at the flame, contemplating. He gave her no answer, so Yue took her leave.

It started there.

And as the grains of time continued to sift through the funnel of mundanity, Zhao’s expression lost more and more reluctance and gained more and more determination.

Until one morning, with the sky dappled pink, Zhao was standing at his usual spot, no flame held in his hands.

“I think…” Zhao started, “I think I am tired of stagnancy. Perhaps my fleet has already found peace, and I am the one remaining, refusing to move on.”

Yue smiled. A small, tentative thing.

Zhao cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’ve begun to chart a course. I thought we could sail to one of the Air Temples first. Or perhaps we could go sightseeing around the glacial maze. I’m not sure which you’d rather, but I can show you the course –”

“Show me when we’re on the way,” Yue grinned, already mentally planning what to take with her.

“I – pardon?!” Zhao sputtered.

“We should get packing,” Yue said cheerfully, brushing snow off her parka before she turned on her heel and left.

The next morning, before the sun had fully risen in the sky, they cast off. As the boat bobbed in the waters, Yue unclasped the betrothal necklace cinching around her, and dropped it into the ocean. From the innermost pockets of his parka, Zhao withdrew a slightly dented but meticulously polished medal. With one last appraising look, he too, dropped it into the ocean.

“Princess no longer,” she smiled wryly.

“Admiral no longer,” Zhao returned. Then he paused. Tapped his foot. Glanced at the bags stowed under the seats. Cleared his throat. “We may have hung up our swords, but I figured we’d still want some form of defence outside of my bending. How do you feel about taking up cutlasses instead? Or spears. Spears are also a viable option.”

It was ridiculous, but also such a Zhao thing to say. She couldn’t help it; Yue laughed, bright and free, unfettered in her joy.