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A Whisper Of Worry
"The best gift she could have for Christmas is me being there on time." he thought to himself. He'd been away for a long time and was finally making progress homeward. His old green truck pushed forward as he struggled to keep it centred on the lane. The strong winter wind pushing the vehicle towards the middle. Eventually the old automobile gave in, just as another car came by. He swerved to avoid it with success, but at a cost in which his truck lodged itself into the snow bank beside the road. The tapping of wet snow against the windshield became instantly incessant. "How far is the house?" he wondered to himself. His conclusion was a full hour of walking. He quickly grabbed his flashlight and set out, determined to get home quickly. As he stepped into the cold pain of winter he realized he realized that he could take a shorter route by cutting across the snowy field beside the road. But it wasn't a field, rather a frozen lake. But that didn't matter to him, that didn't stop him fro
"Has there ever been a crazy person that wasn't dangerous?"
What do you mean?
"Like most of the time you see people with disorders who always get locked up or put on medication to cut out everything. Has there ever been a person who didn't ha-"
"Never? I mean they can't all be dangerous."
You know as well as I do that that's not true. Especially you, after what you've done.
"But why can't there just be someone who hears voices that don't tell him to do bad things?"
There are people like that, it's called the conscience, even you have one.
What do you think I am? There's no one in the cell except for you...
Artist Blue - You Are Not Alone
The woods are deep and dark, night has descended upon this planet. “Woods,” exclaims Catherine. “We’re always in woodlands, I swear, first it was Gameworld Gamma, then Shallana, and it just keeps going.”
“Oh hush, I thought you’d feel better after I got us behind stage to meet David Bowie.”
“I still can’t believe it.”
“What? That we met him?” asks Artist as leaves crumple underfoot.
“No, that he had an alien inside his stomach.”
“Hitchhiker, that’s what they’re called. It’s not like it hurt him.”
“You cut it out of him with a broken drumstick!”
Artist holds in a laugh. “I’m no Doctor, but he lived.” He pauses as he sees a green light in the distance, smothered by plant life. They carefully step forward to find a small village made entirely of wood. The beings there are a strange kind of humanoid, with thin fleshy skin, but with green glow
Look at him. That tool. He's just sitting there on the couch with a girl on each arm, while I sit in the corner, virtually invisible. They only hook to him because he's the generic Jersey Shore bugger, tan skin, sun glasses, and a thin stubble with part of it packed together because of his faulty smirk.
They drink, smoke, all that shit. I hate it. It can't be good for him.
I decide to leave, I go to the washroom to puke up my humanity. I step into the room and take a long look at myself. "Are you okay?" Asks one of the girls.
I look at myself. The tan, glasses, and the stubble. I'm the part of his personality he destroys to impress people.
I'm who he really is, he's what the world made of my body.
Artist Blue - Long Live the Love
In the vast wonderful existence that is the universe, there is a small grouping of land known to all as The Rings Of Akhaten. This area contains a menagerie of magnificent beings of all shapes and sizes, some that are even just coordinated colors. Artist Blue walks through these busy streets, he carries in his hand a hand-sized blue berry, which he happily munches upon. He leans in towards a man who seems to be staring into the distance, hes clearly a humanoid of some sort. Excuse me, sir, says Artist kindly.
He looks at the Timelord with a smile. Sorry, Im busy right now.
Artist looks around curiously. But you arent doing anything.
Nothing you can behold, fool, he protests rudely. Artist looks among the plethora of beings, hoping to find one with less attitude, he then leaves with a scoff. The man looks at him in detest, before being pulled back by a pale creature, eyes glowing red and fangs of great length. Before the
Painting In Madness
The painting rests on the dead house wall. A life sized portrait of a Asian woman laying on her back underwater. "This is the one," says the man in a fedora, cards numbered 10 and 6 in the brim, designed in style. He lifts it off the wall and places it very gently on the dusty cement floor.
"She looks so peaceful," says the girl with him, admiring the portraits almost, but not entirely, realistic beauty.
"Yeah, she does." He replies before looking at her with the smirk of a madman. "Let's wake her up." He dives his hand into the painting. Rather than his hand cracking against the cement, it enters the painting. He grasps the woman's shoulder and pulls her out of the water. She gasps for the air which she has eternally craved.
"How the hell did you do that?" asks the girl in stunned surprise.
"I'm The Hatter. Only the mad can do things which are truly of madness.
Artist Blue - The Lonely Assassin
America in the 16th century was a time filled with mystery and curiosity, but most of all it was a time of hardship, and a moment in human existence that was filled to the brink with a fear of the unknown. I shall return, speaks John White to the slowly forming English settlement below him as he stands atop a massive wooden ship. Soon this land will permanently become our home, Roanoke. It shall forever be remembered as a great triumph.
The crowd cheers as the ship sets its sails and travels far from the views of the ladies and gentlemen among this new colony. One of these women is named Margaret; she walks politely over to the edge of the village and stares into the lovely forest. Suddenly the leaves shake, source unknown. She cautiously peers towards the birthing area of the noise, only to jump in shock as it jumps out at her. A young native child runs immediately past her, screaming in his tongue, which is completely nonsensical to everyone around. The child
An Ode To Our Frozen King
The last words of Simon were "I do not believe in magic."
The things that were uttered after that brought events most tragic.
Upon his trek he found a girl named Marceline
Her later days have made her the vampire queen.
He protected her under his wing.
To keep his mind he needed to only sing.
He hoped for a place where everyone knew his name.
He forever teeters around, clearly insane.
His minions will walk around like mice.
As he wanders his kingdom of ice.
He is forever the ruler of a frozen wasteland.
Eternally forgetting the girl who once took his hand.
Artist Blue - Ouroboros
The red light sputters like a flashlight being used by a child. One moment it is there, the next it vanishes. One could easily begin to mistake it for a dying light bulb. Artist sits on the grate floor, back pressured against his jean jacket, which in turn is pressed against the glass pane. It must be from the concussion. The Timelord thinks silently. Another sentence enters his mind before focusing. I have to beat it.
Catherine stares into the eyes of the nightmarish snake, eyes red with blood and hate. Suddenly it flickers, the eyes become like that of a television screen with lack of reception. Darkness, Catherine stands in complete and utter darkness. She hears a familiar voice. Cat, are you okay?
She turns around, Artist, are you really here? She quickly finds herself inside the white cathedral-like console room of the TARDIS.
Artist walks forward, but his face seems mildly blurred, like a photograph that isnt quite developed.
Eren Yeager x Reader One-Shot: His Hero
Being forced into training after being attacked by the Colossal Titan has caused all Hell to be released into Wall Maria and threatens all inhabitants of Wall Rose. It's only been two years since you, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were pushed in the Trainee Corps. Just being there the first day was harsh enough to drive people to their limits, sending them back into the fields to work hard labor. The sincere intimidation from Keith Shadis had shown the wretched truth as to why some people had signed up in the Trainee Corps in the first place. It made you sick to see that people joined only to live in the luxury of the Military Police Brigade where none of them had to face the horrific creatures known as Titans. You, on the other hand, were planning to join the Survey Corps where you would be serving a purpose; whether it meant you would lose your life the next day.
"WHAT'S YOUR NAME, MAGGOT?!" Keith continued on with intimidating the Trainees as he w
Illustration by :
When I was younger I had many imaginary friends. Short ones, tall ones, some looked like cats or dogs, but none of them could compared to Mr. Thing. Mr. Thing, when I was younger, was a cute little teddy bear my mother had given me when I was three. Despite my imaginary friends he was all to real, cuddling me at night and keeping me company during the day. I carried him everywhere, and had refused to go anywhere without him up till the age of seven. Though even after I had stopped taking him everywhere I had still carried him around the house as if he were able to save me from dangers.
I had explained to him that I didn't want to take him to school anymore because he'd get dirty, and of course he had understood. Patiently waiting for me to return home to play with him. When I would come home he was the first thing I went to; where he would then sit, and help me with
WonderlandThe woman called Alice walks alone through the hollow streets, a seed planted in her sterile heart and a rifle sleeping in her belt. Last night, she'd witnessed the popping of Pérignon, and a dazzling display of fireworks, complete with alcohol-polished emotions and hundreds of thousands of citizens pulsing rowdy fanfare. She'd netted her highest number of kills that fateful day. Blood still rests in the creases of her palms.
A streetlamp greets her brightly with its mild glow, and alerts her to a dirty and disheveled homeless man groveling for money on the other side of the street. The young couple next to him give a feeble attempt to back away, claiming they have none to spare.
"Lies," Alice whispers. She can easily see the pearls jingling from the lady's neck, and a well-crisped suit guarding the young man from the night chill. Money is more than expendable to them. And this city could do without this attractive mask of a couple. They, too, are expendable. Alice begins t
23. Befriend Me - Jake English x Reader
It was you 17th birthday, you didn’t want to do anything with your friends this year, for one they were all busy and didn’t really have time to go. You didn’t fret though. Your parents promised you that you would get to go on a special trip, just the three of you. You arrived at the campground, the forest trees a dark shade of green, and the sky, a beautiful shade of blue, not a cloud in sight. You all set up your tents, your parents are giving you space, so the tents are spread quite far apart.
You stepped out of your finished tent and looked around, there were other families in the area as well, most with younger children than yourself. You told your parents you were going to check out the forest for a bit, they replied with their favorite line “Be Careful.” You walked slowly taking in the scenery, until you bumped into a taller looking boy.
“Ow… I’m so sorry!” You said softly.
“It’s quite alright dear.” He look
Suicide and RebirthI stumbled upon a beautiful girl who was listening to loud music. I asked her,
"What kind of music do you listen to?"
She took out one earbud from her ear and replied,
"I listen to many things, sir."
"Like what?" I ask with curiosity.
"I listen to the breeze of the wind and the sound of the rain slamming on the roof during the stormiest of nights. I listen to the laughter of children when they play on the playground. I listen to the humming of the birds and the buzzing of the bees." She says.
"What beautiful things to listen to." I smile. "Do you listen to anything else?"
She smiles. "I'm glad you've taken an interest to my taste of music." She continues. "I listen to the pecking of woodpeckers and the howling of the wolf."
"The heart has its own song as well, sir. Do you hear it?" She asks in a tender voice.
"I do not." I say. "What does your heart sing of?"
"My heart sings of the rattling chains coiled around it, constricting it tighter and tighter as life drags on. It
Water Runs in My Veins I break the surface and feel the waves embrace my into their icy, yet soothing arms. Once I am completely immersed, every inch of my skin tingles. My bones seem to melt to match the temperature of the water, and my movements become fluid. I deftly plunge deeper, feeling both the cold and the warmth rush past me with every stroke. The pulse of the ocean beats against my skin; it is alive. I open my eyes to take in the scene. I can't see clearly, the images are blurred. Still, I can make out soft hues of color. I reach out and feel the hard, smooth surface of a rock, resting amongst others. I feel a rigid plant, and my hand even grazes the backs of a couple of slimy fish. With each connection made by my senses, I feel a rush of adrenaline. I am truly unlimited when I'm under the sea; my fears have been washed away by the white waves.
Growing excited, I continue to venture deeper into the dark depths. Soon, I feel wisps of seaweed brush up against me, tickling
Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess and a handsome prince. The prince was a little older but the princess didn't mind. He was like a brother but very, very cute!
But the princess had an evil, mean, stinky older sister who always took the prince away from her! This made the princess very sad and angry!
She wished she was older...that way she could have the prince all to herself!! So one day she prayed to the stars and wished to be older!
"AND IT CAME TRUE!!!" Brianna screeched in her room. She stood in front of her mirror and struck a few poses. The clothes draped on her, and the heels were way too big for her feet. They were heels, bright red ones from mother's closet! Her dress of choice was the most beautiful one out of her mom's closet- a lovely blue sparkly dress which flowed outward like a mermaid dress. However, when Brianna wore it, it looked like a bag.
That's not all she had "borrowed." Her mother's jewelry always lay in the jewelry box on the dresser. It was
Vacant to Begin With"It's got to be here somewhere", the air-headed bimbo pondered aloud. After all, that necklace cost a lot of money - her ex-boyfriend's money - so there was no way she was leaving it in the damn jungle to get eaten by a wild animal.
Although it was not the trinket that would allure and seduce the senses of the hungrier jungle denizens this day - she was the only prize on their mind. Helen Flanagan, the 23 year old British 'actress', had been to the jungle before for the reality TV show 'I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here!', and having ignored the 'luxury items' rule, had smuggled her then-favourite necklace along for the ride. One morning of bathing in the camp's lagoon later, and the sparkly accessory was lost good and proper. But now that the acting offers were drying up, and the reality TV jobs were getting more and more obscure, the dazzling beauty with the obvious lack of brain power (and good manners) was looking to up her finance in any way she could. Even if that meant heading
In Glob's Hands
Jolly Jimmy was just your average living candy person. He spent most of his days in a big wooden house with a big chimney above a big fireplace. Everyone loved Jolly Jimmy. There wasn't a single day in which he was in a foul or lugubrious mood. People loved him and he loved people.
Then one day he invited a friend over named Berry Blombus, whom was a simple blueberry. They swapped many a story and much gossip which was spread far throughout the land of Ooo. "This is a nice fireplace." Said Berry Blombus in the most convivial of manners, holding a nice chunk of firewood in his delicious hands.
"Yes it is. But please don't add anymore firewood. I don't want to boil in here." replies Jolly Jimmy as he prepares a snack across the room.
As the fire was not lit, Blombus put the wood into the fireplace before continuing to chat with his oldest friend.
Later that night Jolly Jimmy decided to curl up near the fire and read the much heard about and disliked fan-fiction Fionna And Cake. He believ
The Parlour IncidentOne day in July, I believe it was, I found myself sitting with several acquaintances in Christopher's parlour. It was one of those deliciously lazy afternoons which only the summer in her full glory can bring. The room had a wan, listless light to it, relaxing the other guests and myself as we languidly chatted over tea and crumpets. The air was also sluggishly heavy, dulling the senses to a slowly-blended calm engendered by the heat of St. Othniel's southerly climate.
At length, after much stimulating conversation, Christopher stood, producing a book of sheet music.
"What do you all say to a bit of music?" he asked.
"Certainly," I answered.
"Oh yes, please do darling!" Tabitha exclaimed, "he's quite the maestro."
Christopher laughed, shaking his head.
"Now, now love, I'd not go that far."
He strode over to the piano as the other guests urged him on. Ida entered the room bearing a merrily steaming teapot and more crumpets.
"More tea sirs?" she inquired, shooting sideways glances at her
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More