#lavander sky-writer

[night-spectrum]

《I'm not a good writer even if I wish I were. I just can't do anything correctly... so here's some unfinished stuff I wrote. Is it that obvious that English is not my native language?》

The moon was full and shining softly in the black sky. Sitting in front of your computer, you stared at the hours scrolling through the corner of the screen. The curtains fluttered silently and the window creaked as it opened and closed to the wind. It was already twenty-three hours past and fatigue irritated your eyes as sleep whispered sweet words in your ears.

You got up slowly and pulled back your chair on the way. With a slow step, you let yourself go on the bed. The satin sheet was fresh against your skin and your whole body plunged into the softness of the textile.

You breathed the smell of lavander laundry detergent, its bewitching fragrance taking you further and further into unconsciousness; Morpheus' fingers were already touching your sides. A sigh escaped your half-open lips. The moon shone. An idea germinated in your mind.

Your back was facing the satellite. Sleep crawled at the bed's feet, greedy, but the urge to light a candle before sinking took up more and more space. It was stupid, really. An old trick you used to do when you were in high school to scare people, without believing it yourself. However, tonight seemed like a splendid night to light a candle and pray. Morpheus should wait.

In the kitchen you found the matchbox on the microwave; the salt in the cupboard above the hotplate. All you had to do was grab a candle in the attic. Your bedroom window was still open, but the chill in the living room was disturbing. In a few hours, it would be November 24th but it was cold as if it were February. Your skin was covered in goosebumps and you thought maybe you should have taken the old cardigan that was lying on your desk.

Upstairs, the floor was squeaking. For a moment everything changed and the house was darker. The shadows waved on the ground and meandered up the walls. The window of the room opened wide and the night air poured into the bedroom. Outside, the night became silent as he went with his eternal solemn step. The trees vibrated in his path and the clouds spread in a gust. The moon seemed more imposing and luminous than ever. The forest whispered for him a few words.

In the attic, the dust was thick and formed dust sheep. You coughed a little while sweeping the air with your hand. The attic was just a dark old pile of garbage that’s been sitting on the side since you were in high school. The days when you devoted every spare moment of your time to witchcraft - today, you weren’t very proud of it - but they were over. You had grown up and the active life did not allow you to have so much fun; yet tonight, something unique filled the air. The light of the moon enveloped your skin with waves and every inch of your body shivered.

Between two piles of old magazines, there was a box with runes and which, despite the time and accumulated dust, still smelled like nettle leaf. Inside, there were oils, sage and nettle leaves, notebooks and even oracles. You overturned the contents and luckily, a black candle also escaped from the box. At first glance, the candle was simple and without patterns but its deep black surprised you. You knew the color of the candles was important, but you totally forgot what a black candle was.

Without looking any further, you went back down to your room. The air was even cooler than at the beginning; the window was wide open and the curtains floated outside the room. You put what you were holding in your hands on your bed and pulled the curtains inside and closed the window with a bang. Looking up, you saw that the moon had yellowed.

Sitting on your bed, he watched you shake. You pushed away fatigue to spill salt on the floor and form a circle in which you settled on your knees. He saw on your face that you were not convinced by what you were doing, he felt doubt. Your mind was no more harmonious, an incomprehensible flow of thoughts. Nevertheless, you remained in the circle. The candle was in place and he watched you crack the match and then burn the wick that took a few seconds to blaze. Your face took on a warm hue and its shadows oscillated to the rhythm of the flame. You didn’t realize it, but the air became heavy as the candle burned. The smell of wax invaded his nostrils and he was compressed by the thickening air. He got up slowly, knowing that he could not approach you in the immediate future and walked away a little without taking his eyes off you.

You squeezed your hands against your arms. The air whispered gently and the smell of sage leaves floated in the air. You didn’t regret your little ritual; something strange in the room bothered you, as if you were being watched in the shadows. They moved slowly around you, waving their hands that only seized emptiness. Everything seemed to move outside the salt circle. Fear was seeping into your pores.

Your eyes rolled over the roundness of the moon. Pale yellow, it vibrated and called the gaze. It captivated you.

And then a hand landed on your head, light as a feather. So thin that you weren’t really sure there really was one.

He was standing behind you. He had no ill intentions, at least that’s what he said to himself even though he knew it wasn’t quite true. The air was still heavy but not enough to stop it from moving. The salt barrier still held him back though, he couldn’t do what he had planned tonight but it wasn’t a worry; he had all eternity ahead of him. He merely caressed the top of your head softly, enjoying the warmth and softness of your hair under the bandages that covered his hand.

He hid and watched over you in the shadows, in every blind spot. The night was his kingdom, the moon his eye and the stars revealed to him the secrets of humanity. The candle went out and the smoke rose in a thin undulating line.

You could not tell when you fell asleep and what happened after the candle went out but when you opened your eyes, it was six in the morning and you were securely wrapped in your blanket; even your clothes disappeared and were replaced by your pyjama.

#khonshu x reader #moon knight #khonshu #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley

[lavenderberrycookie]

Over the Hill (Rewrite)

The sound of crickets could be heard as the moon hung high in the starry sky. Lavender cookie was in her own little world, completely oblivious to her roommate yelling her name.

“LAVANDER!!! GO TO BED FOR GOD SAKE ITS CLOSE TO 12 AM!!”

Lavender looked at the sudden noise arms overflowing with books.

“It’s that late already?? when did i start??” she said as she set her books down and lowered the volume of her music.

“Did you even eat?” her roommate asked raising an eyebrow.

“no…” lavender said looking away

her roommate took a deep breath getting ready to give her the scolding of her life.

“BUT IM GOING RIGHT NOW THEN ILL GO STRAIGHT TO BED PB I PROMISE!!”

“good, turn the lights off when you’re done.” so called PB said calming down.

Working on her dinner lavender couldn’t help but hum to herself once again losing touch with reality.

That is who lavender was. she felt she was most happiest when she was in her head but she is completely oblivious to the fact that it’s not always a good thing.

She was thankful to have her childhood friend and roommate PB, to keep her grounded. Although the pair have chosen very different paths for their lives, PB being a musical artist and aspiring writer while lavender spends her time working at the cafe in town.

But lavender felt something in her life was missing. she wasn’t sure what, but everyday she woke up with a dull pain in her heart. to her everyday felt the same lately, don’t get be mistaken lavender loves her life she just wants a thrill. If she told PB this she would probably say she’s been watching too many movies.

Lavender is tired of spending countless nights thoughts flooding her mind on what this change could be. maybe she should get another hobby? no she doesn’t need that she’s already so crunched on time. maybe she needs a vacation? again no time.

Working at the cafe she is surrounded by other cookies seeing them with smiles on their faces enjoying the company of others. maybe that is what’s missing? lavender thought to herself as she saw a couple share a cake. she shook her head trying to get rid of those false hopes, it’s not her time for that.

Maybe it will happen in few years… maybe even a few days…

#scenarios #writing #drable #cookie run oc #cookie run kingdom #imagines #oneshots

[tripstations]

Wander the Ardèche With Us!

its wild and rugged character and climbing, winding roads leading the nature lover into the secluded backcountry of the rolling, curving, cliff-hugging Gorges de l’Ardèche where hiking, kayaking, Ardeche camping and field upon field of purple lavender and a Palaeolithic cave welcome both the outdoor enthusiast and the ancient history buff. Add jaw-dropping vistas, pristine lakes, a torturous bike race that careens past majestic cathedrals, through quaint villages, classic chateaux’s and majestic mountains and this natural reserve quickly becomes a must on any vacation destination bucket list. Take a copy of Lonely Planet’s Guide on your next trip to the Ardèche. We did!

Here are six things to do in this beautiful south-central region of France:

Tour de France enthusiasts will want to make the Ardèche their cycling home base during the famous race in July with individual time trials taking place between Bourg Saint Andéol and the famous  Chauvet-Pont-d’Arc Cave. This difficult stage of the contest, some 37.5 kilometers with 850 meters of up and down elevation is always hotly contested. Be prepared for some thrills, chills and possibly some spills!

Picture courtesy of ASO/B.Bade

A warm northern Provencal sun will greet you as you continue south and your early morning stop at La Musée de la Lavande. Try and grab a private tour of those vast fields of purple and learn of the Museum’s traditional steam and vapor processing process of those famous purple (and white!) beauties which result in the production of lavender’s essential oils. We had no idea of the flower’s medicinal importance and uses!

In the Lavender Fields of the Ardèche

With the smell of lavender lingering,  continue into the mountainous area of the Ardeche and discover the bucolic Ardèche Gorge, “France’s Grand Canyon,” the green and white cliffs perfectly framed by a beautiful blue Provencal sky. Much of the canyon is inaccessible except by water, making this famous historic and archeological destination perfect for kayaking, tramping, rock climbing, cycling,  swimming, hiking or simply kicking back and enjoying the view. With over thirty kilometers of winding, cliff-hugging gorge, the canyon runs from Vallon-Pont-d’Arc to Saint-Martin-d’Ardèche and welcomes over a million plus nature-loving visitors a year.

The View from the Top: the Ardèche Gorge. France’s Grand Canyon

And of course, the famous and monumental Pont d’Arc. This beautiful natural reserve offers both campers and outdoor enthusiasts 28 kilometers of rushing river for kayaking, hiking or swimming and on most summer days, you will find families swimming, picnicking and paddling under and around the famous natural gateway to the Ardèche Canyon.

Ardèche’s Famous Pont d’ Arc

Enjoy lunch, dinner or a fun family weekend at the rustic Prehistoric Lodge du Pont d’Arc where you can enjoy a unique glamping experience right on the river.  Make sure you book into The Lodge’s soon to be opened and spectacular Silex, four upscale hotel rooms dug into the cliffs of the Pont d’Arc and looking onto the Grotte Chauvet of the Ardèche mountain range and soak away your tired hiking feet in one of their opulent hand-hewed stone tubs.

Glamping on the Ardèche River!

Bring your history buffs along as you visit the Chauvet-Pont-d’Arc Cave, showcasing the world’s best preserved and earliest known figurative cave paintings as well as other human and animal evidence of early Upper Paleolithic life. In 1994, three amateur cavers discovered fresh air pushing out from one of the cliffs they were exploring on the Ardèche Gorge very near to the Pont d’Arc. Little did they know that they had just unearthed the oldest figurative painting galleries on Earth. You aren’t able to visit the original Grotte Chauvet-Pont d’Arc although the Caverne du Pont d’Arc is a meticulously executed replica of the original cave and its 36,000-year-old paintings. Bring a sweater and your imagination as you explore and marvel at the artistic virtuosity of this millennials-old art gallery!

The modern entrance to the Ardèche’s Chauvet-Pont-d’Arc Cave,

You can easily connect to the Ardèche and Rhône-Alpes region of France as Air Canada has begun offering year-round service between Montreal’s Trudeau airport and Lyon–Saint-Exupéry Airport. Canadians now have a direct link to the second-largest metropolitan area in France. And with up to five flights a week with 37 international business class lie-flat suites and 228 economy-class seats, there isn’t any reason not to visit this rugged and natural,  lavender-scented destination!

tripstations was invited to enjoy the Rhone-Alpes region of France as part of a press trip sponsored by Air Canada, Auvergne Rhône-Alpes Tourisme, Rail Europe and Atout France.

Please note: This post contains product links from Amazon which are affiliate links, meaning if you click over and purchase something, we will receive a very small percentage of the purchase price (at no extra cost to you) which goes towards maintaining tripstations. Thank you in advance!

                    World Traveler, Writer, and Blogger, Co-Founder and Editor-in-Chief of the tripstations.com travel blog.  A former Actor, current shower-singer, and non-hipster foodie. Loves his week-end house in St Marys, Ontario. Dad to Sophia, Ariel, and Hastings three of the best cats in the world.

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