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M!Hawke x Anders: The Doubts of the Mind (Oneshot) by ZsStories M!Hawke x Anders: The Doubts of the Mind (Oneshot) :iconzsstories:ZsStories 8 0
Literature
The Three Options
She was dying.
And she had to make a choice.
Aolis Shepard stood, gritting her teeth and clucthing her gun as decisions whirled in her mind. The AI child, the illuminated boy who had been constantly haunting her dreams as of late, stood by her, watching her emotions with a steady gaze.
The decisions were straightforward. Three options: kill all of the damn Reapers, do what she came to do, take her vengeance for all the people - all the aliens of the galaxy and just obliterate them. Though...she knew that would kill every synthetic known to man. No more Geth...No more EDI. Was that the price she really wanted to pay? Destroy an AI that she came to know and admire as a friend and wipe out the entire race of the Geth, even though she worked so hard to let them have a voice? Even though Legion ended his life for his people? No...she couldn't do that. Wouldn't do that.
Second: control the Reapers. Give them her voice, watch over everyone and decide when it was time to harvest again. To be t
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Tia  The Watercooler by ZsStories Tia The Watercooler :iconzsstories:ZsStories 0 2
Literature
Opposite Sides(?) Prologue
The bright moon hung directly above the wagon traversing up the mountain pass. The night was near pitch black and the air became colder and colder the higher the wagon went, almost to the point of snowing for there were ice patches on the rocky path. The old man, deep into his sixties with straggly white hair atop his head and eyes that were once a bright sea blue color but were now a cool pale blue, kept himself warm by keeping a heated flask inside of his shirt, while the lone passenger behind him had a blanket and coffee. Damn whoever he was, the driver thought irritably as they rounded a curve. He came out of nowhere in the middle of the darkest part of the night and demanded that he take him up the mountain pass at that very hour. At first the old man refused flat out, there was no way he was going to climb the pass, he'd have to wait until morning like the other sensible people. However, the stranger promised to pay him double the price he is usually paid by the city; the young m
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Literature
The Arcanes
Ada Greenbranch sat alone in her rocking chair peering out of the window as the blizzard roared outside. The fire crackled nearby, warming up the hovel she dared to call home. It was far from it, considering where she originated from. Her parents would have been turning in their graves if they were alive to witness the downfall of their daughter and the horrid state she lived in. She had to admit that she was quite comfy in her 'horrid' state – something she knew her former mother would've called it. She liked the quiet, the solace she received by only being surrounded by trees for miles. She would've hated staying in a coven, as her parents raised her in, not all witches got along and she didn't want to deal with their differences – she'd rather grumble to herself.
The long gray haired woman took a sip of coffee that she had brewed earlier. With the snow storm outside, there was hardly a thing to do in the thick of the woods. Critters of all shapes and sizes hid themselves
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Literature
[Practice: A Morning (Short Story)]
The dull tone of the alarm beeps repeatedly until a half asleep hand fumbles around for a moment before finding the irritating device. The fingers grope the electronic, finding the familiar button and clicks the alarm off before the hand falls limply down the side of the bed and grazes the vanilla carpet on the floor. The hairy knuckles rest there for a moment, before the body slowly stirs. The brown bed comforter slides off the side and lands carelessly on the floor with a quiet thump. The man heaves his long legs over the side of the bed and sits for a long while, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. His blinds are all shut tight. The sound of a neighbor’s car chirps as it is unlocked, the car door opens and closes, and rumbles to life and is pulled out of the driveway. The unread messages on his cellphone sitting next to him are blinking a moderate, silent blue.
The man stands now after running a hand across his features and overgrown stubble, his legs crack as
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Literature
A Sickness of the Mind, A Tantalizing Fever
Her mind is swirling,
twirling,
burning.
An ache forms,
confusion inserts itself
and ruins her.
Panic settles in
her chest.
Choking her.
What is she
to do?
Who is she
to turn to?
Why is she
suffering?
Questions will
go unanswered.
She feels pressured,
unsure of herself,
almost crazy.
She's losing it,
her sanity,
her friends,
her lover.
All because of this
loss of mind.
Damnit.
Damnit.
DAMNIT.
Why?
Why is she
like this?
Why was she
born?
She'll never know.
Will never know.
She lies unthinkingly,
unwittingly,
but it comes so
easy.
Easier than to
say the truth -
even if it
isn't harmful.
Lying is a defense.
Defense from what...?
Everything.
She struggles,
she cries,
and she may die.
But she cares,
too much
about the people
who will weep
for her.
She doesn't want
to die.
Crying comes easier
as well.
He holds her hand.
Who?
Her lover.
He wants to help,
what a guy,
But she's not sure
if he can.
He's so far
from her...
how can he
help?
She lets him
try.
She wants to be
held,
car
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Literature
White Slate Chapter 9
The alarm was buzzing in her ears.
Stupid thing…!
Unai tossed her extra pillow at it and snuggled back into the warmth of her bed after hearing the satisfying crash of her alarm clock crumbling to the floor. She didn’t want to go to that school; she had her organization. They taught her things that her own teachers couldn’t - why should she go? She had no reason to and saw no reason to get up so early. In fact, when had she set her alarm? She was sure she hadn’t. She went straight to bed, remembered glancing at it, scoffing, and turning away from it to peacefully sleep the next day away.
It suddenly clicked in her mind as soon as she heard the familiar footsteps enter her bedroom.
“You’re going to be late.” her brother’s deep voice told her.
“Five more minutes…” she muttered as if she hadn’t heard the alarm. Maybe if he’d go away, then he’d forget.
“Unai.” his stern reply confirmed th
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Literature
Painful Beginnings and Happy Endings
Young and old.
Stupid and "wise".
Too young to know the difference,
too young to notice the difference.
Old, was the wiser. Old was...
the know-er. To see all, to know
(almost) all.
Scoffed Old did to the young.
Young wanted to be old, and old
refused to be young.
Always left behind, always trying
to catch up.
The crack was too deep to jump over,
the knowledge too large to comprehend.
Old wanted the young, but hated it.
Hate and deceit guided the "wise",
until it could no longer ignore.
Old went with old.
The young left alone.
Forever ignored.
Forgotten.
Until young grew old,
young began to understand.
To comprehend.
Old lied.
Old was unwise.
Old was...deprived.
Young grew old, but was true.
It began a life anew.
No regrets.
No changes.
Happiness lingered,
joys restored.
Life could go on.
As it once did before.
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Literature
The Warlock and the Wolf (Preview)
“Come on Sunny, you can do this.” The old man urged the little boy with the coral pink hair. His head was down, clutching his hand-me-down toddler warlock stick, and sniffling to himself because another one of his practiced magic spells had failed yet again. The old man smiled down at him warmly, he was a fighter - even if he cried at his own mistakes, he continued to try again.
The child lifted his small head up again to show his pale green eyes filled with brimming tears as he nodded at the man. He would indeed try again. He raised the stick into the air and tried to conjure an apple as he was trained to do. A neon green color emitted from the tip of the wand and snaked its way around the boy, going around his shoulders, under his neck and back around again to wind itself around his outstretched free right hand. There it popped into and turned into a dark green smoke. When the smoke lifted, a big, round red apple sat pleasantly in the boy’s small hand.
The boy hande
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Literature
The Peacock Feather Chapter 1
Their village wasn’t the same when the rebellion started against the kingdom of Parel. War and pilgrimage turned ordinary citizens into the cruelest of people and nothing could be done about it. That was the way things functioned in the new order of things, no one looked out for one another and people died every day, whether from the rebellion attacks or just being robbed. It was a frightening sight for young children, they were forced to become adults and fend for themselves when their parents were brutally murdered and they no longer had anyone to protect them.
She was lucky that she had basic defense skills to fend off any intruders that dared to enter their small cottage, she even felt comfortable enough to sit out on the porch and watch poor, defeated villagers walk to and fro to wherever their shuffling feet decided to take them. Death seemed to always be written on their faces, and she had to admit, she probably kind of looked like that too.
She glanced up at the sky as gr
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Literature
White Rose Prologue
Rain had poured all evening while her parents were packing her things. She would be safer, they said, she’d be protected. Whatever they meant by that. Anna had only watched them silently for a minute or two as they hurriedly rushed about the house finding some of her belongings in the living room and packing them with her. She would need all her things, was what they had explained to her earlier. She still didn’t understand why she had to go. Her parents loved her, her home was safe and loving, and her parents hardly argued to cause any serious problems between them. But she had to go, something had happened and she just...had to leave - for her protection. She turned her pale blonde head away from them and turned it towards the window to get a look at the dark streets outside. The city had toned down a bit with the constant flashing of car lights driving by, it was late - around ten-forty and people were turning in for work tomorrow.
“Daddy, why can’t I just le
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Literature
The Peacock Feather Chapter 2
Weeks had passed and everything seemed to be frozen in time. The city didn’t bustle as they usually did in the morning, everything was entirely slow. No one could get off the loss of a great king, especially in place of a son who they actually barely knew. Was he like his father? There wasn’t a way to tell, only the people who lived inside the castle  could maybe guarantee that answer.
The queen never left her bedroom. She was bundled in her bedsheets and refused to leave it. Elijah visited her along with the housekeepers who brought their Lady food, he would sit with her and listen to her sob while her son would be busy trying to fill in his father’s shoes. The council would be breathing down his neck making sure that he was doing a certain thing correctly and the way his father had done.
“Not like that King Cane. Your father always did it like -”
“Enough!” Cane said after he had finished deciding how this unfinished bridge project would
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Literature
~A Little Something~
Life, love, and happiness
All balled into one
You have given me a joy,
that constantly stops my heart
What am I to do without you?
I have lived independently,
unafraid to face the world
Alone
Love to me was
Second
And somehow, you made it
First
My life has become a jumble
since I met you
I am faced with obstacles that
may seem too high to jump over
but I somehow still scramble to the top
You are a challenge
You challenge me
and I gladly accept it
For you are my
Life
my Love
my true Happiness
Don’t ever let me go
Because I don’t want to leave
I love you,
J.P.R.D
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Literature
The Peacock Feather
It was always pouring rain in the little village of Tarveck. The village was stationed at the heart of the thickest rainforest outside of Parel Kingdom and it constantly rained nonstop. Villagers shuffled their way through the muddy streets as if this were normal, to an outsider this would be the worst day of their lives. Being used to the city life, with all the luxuries where the streets are paved and not dirt, could do that to a person. But overall, even if this village were limited with technology and grocery stores were replaced with market carts it was a beautiful sanctuary. Since the village was so small, everyone knew everyone as if they were one big unrelated family. There was a very strong binding of trust that went into small villages like these that were hard to break.
A black coated feline dressed in a sleeveless, white laced summer dress sat on the edge of her porch where the porch roof was barely shielding her from the rain. Her tail flicked idly around her legs as she i
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Literature
White Slate Chapter 7
Shift changed every six hours. No guard was ever required to serve longer than that and overtime just didn’t happen. It was demeaning enough to spend time in the presence of those yet to be sent away, and even on the quietest of days the meaning of the firing chambers still hung in the air. They had never even needed to place the area under quarantine or separate it from the rest of society - its foul presence was deterrent enough for the Minir. Any individual foolish enough to stray within its bounds was allowed to explore unmolested by the guards, but the fact of their presence would be noted and monitoring would commence. If you were entertaining thoughts of the exiled or the abandoned you could not be entirely sound of mind. As such it was a lonely place, the quiet tapping footsteps of the skeleton patrols the only sound at the end of the day when the institution closed temporarily. Other than the skeleton quarter of the day a full compliment of guards would stalk the halls,
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Wellp...I've decided to try my hand at screenplay writing. Though I'm not entirely confident in the outcome, but I'll give it a shot considering this is what I want half of my future day job to be - the other half directing. I'll have to say, writing a novel is easier than a screenplay, though some people would probably disagree. I used to think the same, that a screenplay is easier because there's less to describe than a novel...
WRONG!
There's soooo much else going on in screenplay :iconagonyplz:

There's shots and actions and transitions....just a lot of stuff to remember how to do over and over again.
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH
Wish me luck.
:iconthumbupplz: 
  • Listening to: Niki Minaj - I Lied
  • Reading: The Dark Monk

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ZsStories
Zarya
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
I read and write with a passion. If you intend to criticize my work, do so in a respectful, informative way. Other than that, I don't want to hear it. So please keep unkind comments to yourself :)
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:iconexploom:
Exploom Featured By Owner Mar 6, 2018  Student Digital Artist
Thanks a lot for the watch :D
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PepstarsWorld Featured By Owner Apr 9, 2016  Professional Artist
Thank you for the fave of Iplehouse Ashanti BJD DD! :hug:
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DigitalSummit Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav glad you liked itHug 
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miguel-narayan Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2015  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks a lot for the fave! :ahoy:
Feel free to come back any time or visit my facebook page: www.facebook.com/thenarayanart…
Fresh uploads often!

Have a great weekend!!
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DamaiMikaz Featured By Owner Oct 26, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks a lot for adding my work to your collection.
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Black-B-o-x Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2015
Thank you for the fave :)
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PepstarsWorld Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2015  Professional Artist
Thank you for the fave of Iplehouse Doria Vampire! :hug:
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pinkythepink Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2015  Professional Artisan Crafter
:love: Thank you for the favorites, it really means ever so much to me that you enjoy my artwork! I invite you to add me to your watch so that you can see all the future beaded and stitched pieces I have planned! :blowkiss: Just think of the sparkles... :squee:
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Andaelentari Featured By Owner Sep 3, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
thanks for faving! :hug:
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azuh Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2015  Professional Digital Artist
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