Oriko Magica - Witch TheoriesOriko Magica - Witch Theories4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The Graveyard Witch. She has a protective nature. She stands watch over the memory of her dead love, preserving it as it is for eternity. She allows none to enter and defile it. Her garden extends into the distance, containing many cherished memories of the world they made together. Even in death, she will protect that which is dear to her.
Minion of the Graveyard Witch. His duty is to devour. He will bog down and consume any intruders, if the barrier's many traps do not kill them first. He enjoys drinking tea and eating biscuits in his spare time. His top hat is set by the Witch.
The Shifting Witch. She has an emotional nature. She suffers from strong mood swings. Her strength depends on the state of her mood. When she is happy, her body sways back and forth. When she i
The FallenYou shone like a shadow,The Fallen5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
blending into the night like a ghost.
Feeding off our emotions, feeling hollow,
you were the parasite, we were the host.
You targeted and somehow drew me in,
with your sad eyes and crooked smile.
Speaking of a fire choking you from within,
you are the angel thrown into exile.
With broken feathers and tattered wings,
you reminisce of a time you've forsaken.
And during the loneliest nights I can hear you sing,
of the day where all you loved was taken.
Those sorrowful notes would carry and reach my ears,
and I'd ache from the pain you felt.
Your misery was more than I could bear to hear,
and I wept for you and the cards you'd been dealt.
I couldn't let you know that I discovered your heart's pain,
so I kept my mouth shut and buried the secret from you.
But never could I forget the night when you sang,
of your own emotions, so horribly raw and true.
I hadn't known that angels could break or that they cried,
yet there you were, your
The Wall's DaughterSummary: With the wall going up, Ludwig asks Alfred for his help in protecting something very important to him - his daughter. Mentions past MPreg.The Wall's Daughter4 years ago in Romance More Like This
Alfred rubbed his arms, trying to keep warm. Berlin was colder than usual this November. He shivered and looked to the east, where he could feel the pain of millions caused by a wall. And it wasn't even finished yet.
"America, I'm glad you came."
He started at the tired voice, and turned to find Germany well-wrapped in a thick coat. He was standing oddly, his arms seemingly cradling a bulge in his coat.
"You asked for help, and I came. You know we would never hate one of our own, Germany."
He looked away and readjusted his hold on whatever was in his coat. "Some among us would."
Alfred didn't know what to say to that, and remained silent. Ludwig stepped closer after glancing around to make sure no-one was nearby, and pulled America into a nearby alleyway. They both sighed in relief at the escape from the s
The FC and OC GuideThe Fancharacter and Original CharacterThe FC and OC Guide6 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
A Guide Made by a Fellow Fancharacter and Original Character Maker
Hello all, xTwilightxSpiritX here (Twilight or Kina for short, if you will), and I'm here to speak out and give out advice for fellow fans.
You see, among ANY sort of fandom (and when I mean any, I /mean/ any), there will always be a group of people that like to create an Original Character (OC) or Fancharacter (FC) to put into a story. Popular fandoms are any kind of anime or cartoon, popular series like Harry Potter, and even some live-action TV shows. Among the different branches of fandoms, the people that make OC's based on whatever their fans of usually gain a lot of flak and distaste by people who are just regular fans.
Do you ever wonder why this is the case?
To put it bluntly, some people really screw themselves over when creating said OC for their fandom. YES, there are some really creative and rather believable OC's somewhere out there around the net... However,
C: 2p!CanadaxReader Part 1: Taking a riskC: 2p!CanadaxReader Part 1: Taking a risk3 years ago in Sketches More Like This
7 Years Old.
"Come on mommy!! Can we go in? Please???" you begged your mom as you tugged on her shirtsleeve, motioning her to 'Tinker Toys Too!' toyshop. You have always loved getting toys like any other child did. You both were waiting outside the toyshop while your father went to go get the car. Your mother looked down at you and smiled.
"Alright ________, since you've been such a good girl, you can get one toy." She says as you squealed in delight and ran towards the door, swinging it open and ran inside, your mother following you. Your eyes widened as you stared at all the toys that were inside. There were dolls on one shelve, toy trains on another, model airplanes, and stuffed animals on the other shelves. Your big (e/c) eyes scanned all the toys that were there. You ran towards where the dolls were stared at the stuffed animals next to a boy there that looked your age.
You looked at the boy from the corner of your eye. He had blonde hair that went up to his shoulders
Hitman Reborn Guidelines1. 'Pineapple' is a taboo word around Mukuro.Hitman Reborn Guidelines5 years ago in Comedy More Like This
2. He's heard any pineapple joke you can think of.
3. That's not an excuse to spend all day trying to find one he hasn't heard.
4. Mukuro is terrifying when mad.
5. Reborn is not Vongola's boss.
6. Informing Tsuna that Reborn would make a much, much, much, much better boss than him is considered cruel.
7. No matter how true.
8. Telling Kyoko that Tsuna is gay just to see Tsuna freak out was only funny the first six times.
9. It was even funnier that Kyoko just said she was happy for him.
10. That girl really is a few bullets short of a Dying Will flame.
11. Telling Lambo that he's a cannibal for eating hamburgers is considered cruel and unusual punishment.
12. Torturing Lambo is not a national pastime.
13. No matter how many people think it is.
14. The Ten Year Bazooka is not a toy.
15. The Bovino family really needs to take that thing away.
16. Giving a five year old an ite
2P!CanadaxReader-Request2P!CanadaxReader~Request~2P!CanadaxReader-Request3 years ago in Romance More Like This
You shiverednot because of the temperature, but because of a feeling you couldn't get rid of that chilled you to your bones and doused your skin in an icy envelopment. Then, a blast of cold air came whooshing inside the house as the door opened. You weren't expecting anyone else, but judging from the familiar clopping sounds of cured leather boots, you knew it was Matthew.
"Hi, Matt," you said to your Canadian boyfriend, his scarlet mountie uniform created a stunning contrast to the otherwise dull atmosphere. He took off his polarized aviators that protecting his eyes from the blinding sunlight that reflected off of the snow and brushed back some loose strands of blonde hair that was hastily done in a ponytail.
Matthew didn't even bother to say anything as he walked inside your house and flopped on your couch without even the slightest consideration to take off his snow-covered boots that were tracking melting slush onto your floor. Then, once he made hi
As the Sun WalksI will rise and walk the sidewalks as the sun walks them.As the Sun Walks4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With careful steps I will do my best to stay up and awake,
Though the sun has no problems with this,
I do we are far apart, Sol and I, fire and earth.
I will rise and walk the sidewalks as the sun walks them,
To the best of my ability, be the tip of the invading spear as it
Mirthfully chases away the night, calling that day has come,
Let Night retire to their mutual couch!
I will rise and walk the sidewalks as the sun walks them.
For the morning is a sort of table, a place of parley between
Light and Dark, and between silence and noise.
You, walker, with me walk the sidewalks of Clinton where
The faithful scholars walk, and the two of us will be quiet.
Perhaps we will speak, but it will be a calm speech,
SometimesFly on fast wings and smileSometimes2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you are quicker
than the sadness chasing you.
BlissfulWhen I look into your eyes,Blissful2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A window to the soul
I’m with you,
And all is well, friend
A dance of minds
A dream awake
In colors of happiness
Never knew a love like this
Just us two
The flow of time…
Stay the night
Keep me warm..
Now and forever
Story Time.The face of evil,Story Time.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Once a god frozen in the ice,
Whose sanity melts remembering touch,
Is a drop of fire on the rise,
Its soaring hopes
Tied with black ribbons to an electric chair.
Lament, bleeding roses,
Bite your tongue till it bleeds.
In the silent midnight,
A tear sings a water's lullaby,
An Underwater fire walk in the labyrinth submerges the ivory heart.
Praying for spring:
The cycle of love and solitude.
Rescue is possible,
We need an instant repair.
Until then, I'll be missing you.
my opinion about youlonely birdmy opinion about you2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
exhaling on the kitchen floor,
your ramshackle wings
need to rise higher
from this ocean inside you
of tequila at five pm;
you are just a bad luck woman
searching the eyes of strangers we meet
for a harlem nocturne
of nighttime melancholia,
or a sad story of a jukebox
with starry, starry skin.
you are my sweetest downfall,
but flightless birds with wildhearts
don't belong here.
lost, but never foundsince you're gone,lost, but never found2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
i have become that one girl:
too much of not enough,
she only goes out after dark,
morphing through time
to the end.
who am i to shine?
what am i?
burn scars and washing machines,
the sound of an approaching train --
off the map,
a soft and fickle heart.
it's all the same
stumbling around after the storm.
these feelings cover me
like summer in Paris;
i see drops of Jupiter
(they are called fireworks for a reason).
my birdcage boy,
outsiders don't understand.
you are foreign even in your skin;
too busy for life,
playing the suicidal king of hearts.
so let's pretend it's 9 pm instead.
burn with me; take two.
you're a subliminal message,
a crown of thorns.
let's play murder,
by your hand is the only end i foresee:
we're both drunk and always have been.
blasphemyin a Heaven no grander than a forest, He sat upon a throne weaved of ivy and wild roses; it was there He first touched the Universe, and it was there He came to find the thriving rock He named earth. absent lives were flitting about in oceans deep and dark, and He sought to make company, entertainment, using His vast power to manipulate these beings' path. they grew until they resembled His intention, but before the first man thought of the savannah's cruelty or had any thought besides instinct, angels were birthed of the Lord's passing thoughtsblasphemy3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He would breathe and exhale
lights that cuddled like sweet birds,
tucked close for warmth in a simple
nest draped with their brothers' down
feathers and cotton brought up from earth;
amongst the soft glow of each new ideal
came a pop like an ember cracking this one
was weakly lit and stuttered its first words
in a hoarse chirp (humanity, love) before it came
to still with its slumbering companions.
in the evening, the lights
Befriend The Lost.Hug the hurt,Befriend The Lost.1 year ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Kiss the broken.
AfterthoughtThey said to run.Afterthought1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
If I Couldyou're different-If I Could2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a tribute to what could have been,
of what it means to be a friend.
staring into your eyes,
i've been looking back lately
for reasons why we should be in love.
you could throw bricks at me
for every goodbye I ever gave to you
and I still can't make you love me;
but you should never attack a poet-
a depressed, schizophrenic human
trading diamonds for dirt;
a final, bitter curse-
a suicide song.
(I can't help it
that your poetry sucks)
The End of Our StoryYou don’t know this, butThe End of Our Story2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hate punctuation,
even though I’m 146 pounds of storyteller
and suicidal, by design.
What I know about love is that
what-on-earth girls get too attached
to the good man and the length of rope,
but I don’t think I’m alive enough to die yet.
They say I’m guilty,
but that you exist through
coffee and sugar and rain
calling me home
from a journey, my journey,
but that’s not the way I see it.
Or maybe it actually is.
Sometimes I lose things,
things like crayon soulmates,
promises for a fool,
and colours I never tasted,
things like you.
Once upon a carcass,
a hospital bird with soot in her lungs
belonged to you,
but I didn’t mean to resonate
through your pocket universe
six years ago.
The sound of an approaching train282 days into the yearThe sound of an approaching train2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
and I’m still not living, lost
in this urban ballet, this city
of blinding lights. We knew
a place where no cars can go,
where even the crickets
couldn’t be heard - fifty one miles
down an old country road, where the wildflowers
grow like frilly laces, moonblossoms
tearing through the earth.
You could feel the sky in your
thought out gaze, ignoring the stars
and drifting into five am on velvet
waves just about to break.
We don’t go there anymore.
This thing between us set
the night on fire but it only lasted
a little while. I still have that fire
smoldering in my ashtray heart, but
flowers aren’t apologies. You’ve endured
so many storms that you became one – I wore you like a bruise.
I’ll be on the next train to Vegas, dreaming
about photographs from another time.
Love is a smoke made from the fumes
of sighs – may as well buy another
pack. My lungs are empty anyway.
2P!England X Reader [Chp. 9]2P!England X Reader [Chp. 9]3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"WHO TOOK HER?!"
Francis held up the note for Oliver to read. Oliver's expression quickly turned darker and darker with every word he read.
"WE HAVE SOME NEW TARGETS, BOYS." Oliver said, cracking his knuckles. "LET'S GO!"
After some odd hours of being out cold (thanks to the classic chloroform trick), you finally came to, but much to your displeasure, you were still blindfolded and your hands bound behind your back. You didn't move. You instead listened to try and figure out where you were, and what was going on.
Momentarily, the hum of an engine was heard. A slight vibration could be felt below you, and you could tell you were in a vehicle of some sort. Your arms rubbed against the wall of the vehicle, and you could feel a carpeted wall. The floor beneath you was hard, and though you were blindfolded, some light shone through. You sniffed quietly, and the smell of pine could be smelt. Pine wood floors, perhaps? Were you in one of those moving t