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Literature
I Do Not Like To Think
Trigger Warning: Cancer and grieving
I do not like to think, that the last time I met you, over three years ago when I was fifteen, I remember more about managing to watch three series of Red Dwarf with my family in the car on the way to your house and back than about you.
I do not like to think that I have never met my grandfathers and I have such a small family that five more deaths in the extended family means the reaper will be knocking on my own home door next ready to take those I live and breathe for.
I do not like to think that, as I was talking to you all those years ago, the cancer was already starting to make you decay. You were always so healthy.
I do not like to think that when I am not there to distract your sister, my grandmother who sits in our living room lost in memories or thought or a book or TV sitcom her frail mind can barely keep up with, she weeps for her loss and I too cry for an ill sister I fear for every God-damn day but do not say a word to the family.
I do
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Literature
Poetry
I am not a poet.
I cannot make single words that do not belong together tell a story so achingly beautiful that it will make you cry or be sunshine appearing from behind the cloud of my own defenses to fill the world  with warmth and force shadows to retreat or a list of things that summarise my life into neat little lessons because as you know, love; I never was good at lists.
Poetry is so far from what I am use to it is like some wild animal, it's nature unknown and therefore terrifying to me, but I watch from afar and admire it's beauty, envy seeping bitterly in as I watched others take to it with ease.
It was you who first told me to tame my mind, corral my emotions and choose a form to take to....you already so far ahead of me, graceful and practiced, and I was proud.
It is not in my nature to take to new things.
I am like a toddler on a fat pony nearly being tossed from the saddle with every jolt of emotion and I cannot tell you how many times I have been thrown from
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Literature
Memory Triggers
Bourbon.
I am thirteen and trying to track my little cousin (who sleeps but six hours a night and can run all day and still has to be forced to go to bed!) through a hotel lounge.
His parents are talking to some friend in the lobby and we are promised to be here but ten minutes; my father stays with them and I am told that the lounge would be a better place to wait.
I find him hiding under a chair and tell him off firmly; this is a four star hotel!
It's then my name is called and I turn and smile because it is an old friend's father.
He is sitting with a newspaper and a tumbler of amber liquid.
My cousin has sulkily retreated to the fireplace.
He kisses my cheek before I leave and catches the corner of my lips.
I can smell alcohol and cologne.
Later, I lick my lips and have my first taste of bourbon.
Singing Publically.
I am fifteen and you ask me if I can sing.
I shake my head vehemently which, as usual, only makes you more stubborn.
Eventually, with promises of biscuits and a cup of
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Literature
You Were Mine
It is funny how people express their affection.
I am clingy, I know.
A  puppy in constant need of reassurance, but in return you will get never ending support and selfless loyalty....but you learnt that quickly.
We slipped from close friends to more so easily...friends who did not have personal space...we knew holding each others hands meant more.
You took the initiative thank God because though you were half a year younger you were depressingly more experienced.
And I know they called you names for it.
Slut.
Whore.
God knows what else.
You had only been with five guys....less than some of them had.
You had slept with three.
I was was your first female.
We both knew we were too young for love, and the thought of saying it was amusing and foolish to us.
We just knew we cared about each other a lot.
And I said that often.
But you said something so much more than I love you; the three immortal words.
The phrase over-used and yet not used enough.
You said: I'm yours.
You breathed it to me
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Literature
My darling, if I had known....
My darling; if I had known.....
If I had known time was so short (ironic, is it not? Life so short but optionally shorter) for us......for what we had: what I discovered; what we slipped into so easily.....
I would have told my family.
You were my first and I will not say my everything.
I would have stayed with you no matter what, dear.
I had never called any-one by sugary, affectionate names before.
Never had need to, but you became mine.
And that was more than I could imagine.  
So many lessons so little time and nothing could have prepared me for the coming years.
I failed you first, I know.
But then, seeing you tumble after me into depression broke my heart, love.
And, God, I tried to stay strong for you, and I was...
I am sorry I was not at your funeral.
I am ugly when I cry anyway.
.....two weeks and I learn what you did.
Left me a note in crimson on porcelain I could not understand and nothing more.
I still don't understand...and there has been no-one since.
Darling; if I h
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Literature
Training
What sounded like sonic booms echoed round the training room.
It had been emptied, of course, for the Archknights. This time, it’s only two though.
But for Empress of Flarunium, every-one cleared out; well, her and her “favourite”.
The other Archknights are jealous, but they are too noble, too in love with the idea of being flawless Archknights for their leader, to show it; not publically, at least.
And the words on their foolish and loose lips? Who do they gossip about in the corners?
Talos Javik.
Saved from his burning home planet, raised and tutored by their fearless Admiral herself.
And they have every right to be jealous, who wouldn’t want to be taught by this strong female? Training every-day, her body taught and powerful; her biotics are about the same as an Ardat-Yakshi, and the men (as men would) say she’s just as alluring....
And she’s intelligent, eloquent, and has royal blood in her veins.
And Talos?
He’s a no-body.
He was a crazed
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Literature
Pitch Darkness or just another grimy street?
Jean-Louise was bleeding from her nose from the open back-hand across the face and tears blurred the grimy  back-streets of the American city of Sin she called home. It wasn't broken, she had had a broken nose before.
The men chasing her had no qualms about beating a child to death; breaking every bone and making her scream before slitting her throat.
No-body cared about her, she was just an homeless, orphan upstart who had pissed off their Boss.
JL, as all the other kids of the streets referred to her, was Queen.
Every-one knew it.
She was but 12 years old and she had 18 year olds beating on kids that didn't do as she said.
Every-one feared her.
She knew that without fear she would loose everything she fought so hard to get was gone.
She had to be cold, ruthless, and she hadn't been a child since she was six.
Her close partners in crime  called her Jelly for short.
This was a term of affection but also a warning, as Jean would fly into fits of furious jealousy.
Yes, Jean-Lou
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Mature content
65 years B.R :iconwildredrose14:WildRedRose14 1 0
Literature
A Wasteland
Where Angels & Demons, fear to tred-
 Inside mortals, troubled heads.
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Literature
Bonds of the Werewolf
I have been given precious Chains from a stranger I met on my stupid little travels into unknown lands.
The stranger was kindly, caring, and had magic which I am incapable of wielding; though I do not think she sees how wonderful it is to be able to imbue such power and truth into her words until they flow and become....hypnotic.
The Truth in the words speak of pain and love and of raw human emotion in such a way that affects all others who hear it; she explains pain beautifully.
Such is her magic.
I saw that she was akin to me, a werewolf, if you please; there was a frightening beast that lurked within her, burdening her, making her bright thoughts dim.
And I related; as my own beast had for so long been battling to be free, to take over my body and destroy my soul and wreak whatever destruction it desired upon my weak, mortal body and those around it.
We cage them, of course, but they are strong.
They are too strong.
They are as dark as the sin they can force us to do and are filled
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Literature
Just the End of the World Again....
The world is falling apart.
The ground is cracking open and magma is rising like deep cuts in the Earth itself.
The sky is the colour of a bruised plum and everywhere there is noise, the noise of the end of the world; car alarms, fire alarms, emergency vehicle alarms, people running, people screaming, people praying and crying and dying.
And I am running too.
I am going to stop this.
I was going to stop this.
I just had to reason with him, but then I heard her.
I heard her shouting my name.
I hadn't heard it in so long.....I stopped and looked around.
No...this was the lasting mental link I had with her.
Her voice was tinged with fear and......and hope.
She believed in me, she would always believe in me.
Then she called my name again, more urgently; she was in danger.
The world was in danger but so was she.
So, without hesitation, I turned and ran.
I ran through the streets of the once great London, once iconic buildings half-damaged and the face of Big Ben cracked from the initial sho
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Literature
Dragon Age: The Beginning of Something...
In a time where entire villages are wiped out, and a new, dark and bloody Blight threatened to engulf Fereldan, perhaps the world; men and women try to keep living, and heroes rise and fall.
But few are remembered.
Some don't even realise that they are heroes.
A man pulls a child from the path of a rampaging cart, and he claims he did what any-one would.
Equally, some turn to the darkness that lurks in us all.
Another mage turns to blood-magic when cornered, knowing that only Tranquility awaits them.
This is the world I present you with.
An intricate tapestry of thousands of millions of stories, of lives.
We shall focus on but four strands for starters, four more unsung heroes of Fereldan.
The first is a man, handsome, 6ft and broad, tanned skin with dark chocolate eyes and neatly parted shaggy hair the colour of rust, or leaves that are about to fall in late Autumn, it blazes in the summer sun.
A friendly smile always waiting to shine upon another good soul.
Heavy steel armour, a larg
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Mature content
Holmes' Most Dangerous Enemy.... :iconwildredrose14:WildRedRose14 20 200
Mature content
Heartless- Chapter 3: Heart-felt :iconwildredrose14:WildRedRose14 1 18
Literature
Heartless- Chapter 2: Gut-Feeling
Sniper turned from Spy who was staring out of the window as he saw Scout sprinting towards them. Snipe pushed himself away from the wall & stepped forward to talk to him but the kid didn't slow down, in fact, he didn't seem to notice them at all.
He looked at Spy who shrugged in his usual, negligent style & drew on his cigarette.
Sniper hadn't exactly been talking to him any-way, both just standing in the silence, thinking about the crushing defeat that had happened, & what...what their team-mates were suffering.
That bloody monster, how could he have done this?!
Sniper shook the thought away, pulled at his hat & took off after Scout, in a very stiff, controlled, quick walk.
Spy smiled, Snipe had a soft spot for that boy.......suspicions & theories flicked through his head, like flipping through a book.
That's how he remembered things.
If you visual each thought, each idea in some physical form in your mind, you could sort your thoughts far easier.
It could be flowers in a garden, or f
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Literature
Heartless- Chapter One: Re-start
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepppppppppppppppp-  
"MEDIC!!!"
"YA! Mein gun! Helfe!! Help me you fool!!!"
The third time.
It was the third time that night that one of the team had flat-lined.
Medic grabbed a syringe & stabbed it into Demo-man's neck viciously, but precisely, squeezing it down; eyes wide, blood-shot from the lack of sleep, his jaw clenched in an angry grimace.
Scout had happened to be on duty this time, when Demo-man's heart had given up yet again.
"Press down harder on the bleeding!!! Mein Gott...."
Scout stared in shock & fear as he pressed down harder on the unconscious Scots' side. His warm blood trickled through the towel, onto his hands, slippy & grotesque.
He was acutely aware in the horribly bright white Lab of the other bodies that lay around him.
Heavy, Engie, & Soldier all lay out cold, IV drips attached to them, tubes in their noses. Scout had never been entirely comfortable with hospitals....
God........so many of them
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Literature
Pressure
Pressure:
You try to breathe, but you're barely breathing,
You can't think clearly; you can barely speak.
Your mind is filled with needless thoughts.
Your cheeks are red and feverish...
-
You know what you must do,
But you can't bring yourself to do it.
Instead you jump into a thousand distractions...
Mindlessly seeking the thrill of the 'anything',
You cringe at the progress of time on the clock.
And with lips gone dry from an internal hell-fire
You continue to evade what you cannot face...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 22nd June 2013
:iconWordOfChen:WordOfChen
:iconwordofchen:WordOfChen 477 76
my bic is mighty! by nebezial my bic is mighty! :iconnebezial:nebezial 3,687 224 Ping, Mulan by EminenceRain Ping, Mulan :iconeminencerain:EminenceRain 3,775 227
Literature
You should never attack a poet,
we are the best at exploiting weakness.
the night you took a scalpel to my chest
& fed my heart to the stars,
you told me i could hate you
if i needed to.
with an exorcism
i tried to cast you out
of my body.  
i was contorted limbs:
the language of tongues
trying to find myself
in the cosmos
of lit kerosene fingertips,
& the kinds of habits
that only choke me at 3am -
when my eyes aren’t yet heavy
enough for sleep;
my mind tells me to do awful things.
between fucking &
i-don’t-know-who-i-am-
anymore,
you are the calories
in the mathematical equation
scribbled &
    scratched out
of me.
i think of shy moons
and i don’t eat for three days.
admit it;
you only liked me
when this poetic tongue
licked compliments
up
    & down
your scars.  
but,
space shrapnel aside-
you’re too far down now
for even the stars
to graph you into their maps.
:iconDearPoetry:DearPoetry
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Activity


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WildRedRose14's Profile Picture
WildRedRose14
Straitjackets. Bring 'em on!!!
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United Kingdom
.....so. Yeah, um, hi! =)

WARNING: I barely upload stuff here anymore, so checkout my AO3 account!
archiveofourown.org/users/Wild…

I'm a British (specifically, English; & yes, there is a difference....sort of. :XD: ) woman.....lady....female thing. :L

I am here to laugh, fangirl, & admire art in all of its forms. :D
Wanna know more for whatever obscure reasons?! Look at my favs -
I REGRET NOTHING!!! *shot*
& of course my gallery which I aplogise profously for; it is nearly all ill-spelt Mary-Sue s**t I know....I don't upload my really good/non-fangirly stories. ^^;

LOOK AT MY FAVOURITES RATHER THAN GALLERY!!!
There are far more skilled people out there me. :)

All my tastes are ecletic, with clothes, music.....basically anything & everything. ;)


And for those who do not know I am also very proudly Mycroft Holmes (mycroft-holmes-rp.deviantart.c…) for an awesome Sherlock Holmes RP domain right here on Deviantart!!! (sherlockbbc-rp-da.deviantart.c…) :iconlawooplz:

So join up, or just watch and see the madness unfold!!! :la:
Interests
My savings account screamed as I killed it.

I swear, I heard it dying as I took out about....just.....too much.  

I have no job, and that is.......a lot.

On the OTHER hand:

:iconlawooplz: I had a bad-ass laptop!!! :iconepiclaplz:


And it was kind enough to ask me to give it a name.....I have called him Steven.

So, I have bought Steven and free to roam the internet once again. :iconlachoirplz:

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:iconmaria5164:
Maria5164 Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Hey! Remember me?
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:iconkaykaytwilie:
KayKayTwilie Featured By Owner Jun 4, 2014
Happy Birthday!!! :D Party 
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:iconspectre-draws:
spectre-draws Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2013  Student Digital Artist
Thanks for the fave. :D
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:iconwildredrose14:
WildRedRose14 Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
My pleasure! :aww:
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LetsSaveTheUniverse Featured By Owner Jun 4, 2013  Student Filmographer
Happy birthday! :iconweekenddanceplz:

Hope you have a wonderful day!
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:iconwildredrose14:
WildRedRose14 Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Oh wow thank you~!!! :la:

:glomp:
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:iconamaimirai:
AmaiMirai Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the faveeeeeeeee :""")
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:iconwildredrose14:
WildRedRose14 Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Always a pleasure! :la:
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:iconlisacooper91:
LisaCooper91 Featured By Owner Feb 10, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the :+fav: on Anthony Stewart Head

:thanks:
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