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She Handed me a RoseShe smiles so slightly, a rose in her hand,
Her hair was silver and her eyes were green,
Sitting on the bench by the beige sand,
Watching the ocean sun share its dreams.
Not far down the road, her husband waits.
He’s dressed up nice, waiting at home.
She knows he’s there, so she states,
Her love is there, always, as if carved in stone.
She doesn’t mind if I sit beside her.
She rather enjoys the company.
She knows that there is no divider,
But even as a stranger, she says to me:
“My husband waits for me down the way.
He’s been waiting there for some time.
But I needed this time, I needed this day.
And this day has left me feeling fine.”
She tells me about her beloved man,
His life, his story, his trials and victories.
And she tells me, as we sit there by the sand,
What had happened to her recently.
“He fell ill, and we spoke that night before bed,
He brushed a tear away, and with it my frown.”
I wept, “What will I do, when you are de
HaikuCrickets warn the dark
Calling for the greater good.
We are not heroes.
Shadows hide away,
Wicked are the intentions,
We are bad people.
Chivalry is dead.
Morals; flawed and gone for good.
Far-gone and too late.
She is begging now.
Take the poor thing’s pain away.
We need to go back.
To the way things used to be.
Before Gods were born.
Crusade the crusade.
Forget the old forgiving.
It is based on lies.
forsake all of the hatred.
And love everyone.
Ramblings of a ReaperI once met a good man with a lack of hope,
An unworthy cause and a good length of rope.
He looked for reasons not to kick the stool,
But slipped on those reasons ever the fool.
He called me out on his strangled breath.
“Why didn’t you save me from death?”
And I laid hand on him as his heart stilled,
“Because then you would not be killed.”
A good man in life and in death, indeed,
But not all good men are good men in deed.
As I saw life leave his bloodshot eyes,
I wrote his life down on a list of lies.
Granted, things taken for granted,
Uproot even the deepest loves planted,
A shadowy reaper I am in this absence of light,
As I take the good out of this “Good Night”
I wonder what will be said of his poor, poor wife.
The moment she sees he had taken his own life.
Pity, and wounded pride are spilled on the floor,
and she leaves nothing but fingerprints on the door.
They’re gone for good, and good to be gone.
He no longer needs greed, and so on
We are the Authors of Today, and of Our Lives.The moment you’re born is the moment you are given a pen.
With this pen, you write you own story, cover to cover.
What would you write?
Poetry, stories, literature; all have one thing in common.
They are supposed to mean something.
A meaningless story is not fun. It isn’t entertaining.
And it won’t achieve greatness.
Why would anybody write a story about a guy who works
from nine-to-five every day, eats at the same restaurants,
travels to a few places, maybe takes a vacation or two,
works the same dead-end white collar undervalued job,
and retires at sixty-four, and grows to about 78 years old,
(Giving him only 14 years of life without the chains of his desk)
dies of heart disease, and his wife and kids are sad...
And that’s it.
Do you want to shoot for the average?
Some people say, “Be realistic.”
“Take this course in college, it’ll get you a good job.”
“Don’t risk your financial security.”
Those are the sam
DreamdancerI glance over my unclothed shoulder,
To see you laying peacefully still.
I envy the look of that golden slumber,
I envy you now, more than I ever will.
The smile is slight and your body warm,
Your eyes seem barely closed at all.
A sort of light echoes through this dark room,
And banishes shadows from the walls.
Creeping death and widow’s breath,
Haunted my daylight dreams.
Should the grim lay hand on one,
The other is damned, and chained to screams.
I envy the tranquility of your sleep,
A countenance of glowing imagination.
I wonder where you’re taken in your dream,
And I’d like to join in on the vacation.
And it is there I go, as I lay my head,
Upon the pillow next to yours.
And I’ll sleep as if I am dead.
And to your peace I’ll soar.
I’ll close my eyes and still my heart,
And perhaps I’ll no longer fear death.
And we are forever together, never apart,
As I freed my fears into your widow’s breath.
Sleep now, my beautiful sight.
The Snake LadyThe Serpent Lady sings lovingly.
She has holes where the eyes should be.
Cloaked in the black of shadow cloth,
Chases him through the swarm of moths.
Nails long and sharp as a knife,
The Snake-bitch cuts through the night.
Chase the child through the moor,
And with his blood she writes her lore.
He hides beneath the table in the yard,
Armed with a toy but nothing to guard.
His hands shaking, fighting back tears,
The boy’s been afraid for all his years.
The table flies back and the boy falls down.
She looms over as he’s knocked to the ground.
A serpent slithers through what’s left of her eye.
And with a strike the little boy dies.
His heart beats again and he’s back at the door.
He opens it up and is again by the moor,
Damned to run forever from the monstrous foe.
Always the same no matter which way he goes.
He lives, he runs, he fears, he dies.
He sobs, he flees, he screams, he cries.
She comes, she laughs, she shrieks, she strikes.
She devours, she poisons, she
Tinkering Little Emil (Reader x Toy! Iceland)
Tinkering Little Emil
(Mrs. Clause! Reader x doll! Iceland)
A holiday story
Song(s) ‘Opus 20’ from Dustin O’Halloran (Please listen to get the spirit of the holiday’s going or else you may not get the full feeling!~)
“You know, you should throw that old toy away, I think you’ve done enough damage as it is Peter.” An English accented voice rang through a large manor.
“Nah uh! Emil is so much fun to play with, plus uncle Berwald gave him to me when I was three!” A softer version of the previous voice
Creepypasta x Half Wolf!Reader [Part 8]"I never would have thought that a girl would be good at this," BEN mumbled, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. He cast a sideways glance to the young female beside him, who was staring at the TV screen with a triumphant look. "I mean, we got up to round 47," he continued. "I usually can't even get past 10."
[Your Name] turned her head and smiled happily at him. "I really like games like this," she giggled. "I've always found them really fun!"
"So have I," he commented. "And you know... We would have survived if you had just came over and revived me when I was down--"
The young girl frowned. "It's not my fault if you die every ten seconds and there's a huge-ass swarm of zombies behind me."
"Ten seconds?" BEN repeated. "I do believe that I survive longer than that."
"You died in the first round."
"IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT I LIKE TO DIVE DOWN STAIRCASES. IT WASN'T MY FAULT THAT THERE WAS LIKE FIVE OF THEM ZOMBIES WAITING FOR ME EITHER."
"It was rather amusing to wa
Observers- BBC Sherlock x Reader Chpt. 5It was only a couple of hours before John looked up from his computer to find you dozed off, pencil in hand, the activities of the day finally catching up with you. He slid the sketchbook off your lap, glancing briefly at your work- an array of sketches of him, Mrs. Hudson, the head, and quite a few of Sherlock- before setting it and the pencil on the table beside you.
You stirred when he did, groggily mumbling, “Just let me sleep here,” as you pulled yourself into a ball around your hand and shifted to rest your head on the arm of the chair.
“You could take my room.” John offered, to which you grunted and rolled so your back was to him.
He gave a half smile, ever since you were a kid you had liked to sleep curled up in an armchair because you felt safe in the small space. He covered you with a blanket and then went to bed himself, leaving you in his chair and Sherlock on the couch with his eyes closed.
Once John was gone his eyes snapped open and he examined yo
Coincidences- Bruce x Reader Chpt. 3While Bruce processed this, you hip bumped Tony, “Mind if I set up Eva?”
Tony grinned, “I think Jarvis would find a way to murder me in my sleep if I said no.”
“That is a fair assumption sir.” came the AI’s response.
You laughed, pulling a small tablet from your shoulder bag to flick at its screen happily.
Bruce looked between you and Tony, hundreds of questions crowding his brain, “I didn’t know that you have a sister.”
Tony gave a secretive smirk, “Not many people do. Shame really. Would you look at how adorable she is? She’s like a female version of me.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m much prettier than you Tony.”
Your brother’s eyes narrowed, “ Because you’ve had a rough day and I am so excited that you’re here, I’m going let that one slide.
Bruce spoke up again, “How did she end up in England and not here with you?”
You answered this time, try
Kaoru's Crazy Fan Pt. 1"Thank you, come again." Rose said with a bow as an elderly couple left the diner she worked at. She had long red slender hair that twisted around and rested on her left shoulder and she wore a simple waitress outfit consisting of a black shirt with a white apron with a blue skirt with nude pantyhose and comfy flat shoes.
"Your shift is up Rose." A man yelled out behind a counter as Rose gave a long relieving sigh.
"Thanks Jim." She said whipping off her dirty apron and grabbed her purse along with something to eat. Not wanting to wait till she got home, Rose made her way into the nearby court house to watch a trial as she ate her sandwich. She slipped inside the court room and stay to the back to not draw attention to herself as she began to nibble away at her ham and cheese.
As she waited for things to get going, her mind wondered off when she would find someone special to share her time with, something to look forward to when she got home instead of a empty house. She was currently
realidad sin cadenas--Capitulo 19- Fiole - fanficcapitulo 19 : El laberinto de Marshall Lee
-¡Marshall! ¡Estás sangrando mucho!- decía una voz
todo se volvió confuso y negro , marshall sintió que un cansancio le invadía el cuerpo, pero lo que sintió que mas le pesaba , era el dolor sobre su alma.
Había una pesada presión en su pecho. Casi no podía respirar. Pensó que el dolor repentino en su corazón ya no podía ser más desgarrador de lo que ya era. Le dolía muy profundamente y no podía gritar.
entonces ,sintió una sombra que la rodeaba. Tenía miedo; intento correr por su vida, pero antes de que pudiera escapar una mano fría alcanzó su muñeca y finalmente dio un alarido.
¡ FIOOOOOOOOOOONNAAA! – gritó Marshall despertando de su pesadilla – sus mejillas estaban cubiertas de lágrimas y su pecho le dolía como nunca antes. -
dark France x reader my precious *teacher's pet*13
"what?" you all said when you heard Mr. Kirkland, "are you joking?" one of them said, not taking the matter seriously.
"I'm afraid not, the last time they were seen by their parents was after school, their parents got worried because they went to their rooms and they weren't there, they were grounded so their parents thought they just escaped to go and hang our with friends but they never came back home after hours of waiting they called the police, and this morning they called the school and talked to us about it asking us if we knew something, I don't know if you being their classmates talked to them yesterday or saw them, so we are here to ask you if you know anything, we are sorry for have to come and tell you this, in this way but they're missing sense yesterday at 5:00Pm so, I think if anyone has something to say, please come to my office ok?" he said deadly serious.
"yes Mr.Kirkland" you all said.
"good, I will be on my office if
Observers- BBC Sherlock x Reader Chpt. 6You came back burdened with glorious groceries, carefully balancing around a third of them on the forearm connected to your injured hand so it could still be useful but not actually have to do any of the work.
No sooner than you had stepped through the door with a huff, your phone let out a cry for attention and you spun slightly in its direction as if that would free your hands so you could retrieve it from you pocket.
You scrunched up your face and hoped John was close since Sherlock wasn’t likely to move from the couch to get it for you, “JOHN!”
He popped his head out from the kitchen, his eyes widening slightly at the mass amount of things you had, and you let out a relieved sigh, “Oh good. Would you please get my phone? It could be important.”
He approached you, hands hovering hesitantly as he tried to locate it before determining where it was and pulling it from you pocket to quickly answer it. He gaped at the pace the person on the other end started
BBC Watson x Reader Chpt. 33- Three Little WordsYou were contently encircled by John’s arms under the covers of his bed, both of you just quietly enjoying the presence of the other and the feel of skin against skin, when he suddenly spoke, “Is it safe to assume you won’t be sleeping on the couch anymore?”
“Do you still want to move out?” he followed up.
You shook your head, “And miss out on waking up to your adorable face every morning? I think not.”
He chuckled, squeezing you to him so he could kiss your forehead, “Good.”
It went quiet again for a minute and then you turned to rest your chin on his chest so that you could look at him, “John?”
He brought his chin down so he could see your face and panicked slightly, tightening his grip on you. The expression on your face was similar to the one from when he’d kissed you for the first time, the one that you’d had just before you went completely logic crazy.
“(F/n) whatever it is we ca
Silas: Page SixThe days grew cold.
Every roof had to be burned.
Control is a word in the dictionary.
He resorted to hopping freight cars, but after the incident in Omaha, there wasn't any chance of that working out either.
Silas was alone.
"Sir, you can't sleep here."
His eyes cracked open to gaze upon the face of the transit police officer.
"Please…Its cold outside."
He thought for a moment.
"Ain't you got nowhere to go?"
Silas shook his head. "No roof. No family."
"Hit me. I'll bring you to jail for the night. No charges. No prison. And it'll get you out of the cold."
Silas smiled a bit, "That's a strange way to show kindness, but I have to decline. Can't be around people."
The transit cop pulled him off the bench and dusted his clothes off.
"Then you picked the wrong station. This place gets awful busy in the morning."
"Alright. I'll go."
Silas walked outside and the snow coming down reminded him of all those cold days of December back at the Asylum.
He couldn't remember the last
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More