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#writeober
lowat-golden-tower · 7 months
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Didn't see any Writober prompts lists up in the tag yet so I figured I'd just whip one up myself so people can get to cracking and prepare!
Feel free to tackle and use these however you wish. If you do use it, please tag me! I want to see what everyone writes! :D Be it fandom-related or OC stuff.
Also please reblog and share this around so your followers can see! Spread the word! Spoopy month isn't just for art prompts! >:3 This one is alllll ours.
Though as a side note if you wish to utilize this as an art prompts list, have at it! :3c Just be sure to tag me still! I'm a slut for art.
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omitsucoven · 7 months
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Day 4 : The Day I Lost You..
Not especially proud of this one.. I will probably rewrite it one day
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Word Count : 891
Letter Count (no spaces): 4k119
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Asmira had taken up temporary residence in the outer rim. It seemed more sensible to keep a low profile since her death had been staged, she had to keep a low profile. So she set her sights on the Lahara sector and established her camp on Agamar. Settled in a cave, she spent most of her time training, waiting patiently for the time when she would be called to the front. The former Jedi Knight had become a Sith after her encounter with the spirit of Darth Traya. Since her victory over her, she had earned the official title of Sith Lord. Since then, she had served Darth Sidious in the role of Inquisitor. It had been 1 year, 6 months, 20 days, 12 hours and 45 minutes since Asmira Illidithas Ardan was declared missing. A tragic "incident" was said to be the cause of her demise.
She thought about it all the time. Sometimes she almost regretted the days when she served the Jedi Order with religious fervour, surrounded by those she loved. Even though they had now become her enemies, she couldn't help worrying about some of them. After all, they were the closest thing she had to family. Asmira had not had the most... conventional childhood. Coming from a rather poor and needy family, Asmira did not have an easy start in life. However, perhaps it would have been better if she had lived this life. What would have happened if Garyl Argtur hadn't bought her from her parents? What if they had refused the offer? Perhaps she would have been happier. Finishing her tree push-ups, she lowered her feet, letting them touch the ground again. She wiped the beads of sweat from her face with her gloved hand. She observed her surroundings before continuing her daily training. She was learning martial arts, having realised that without her sword she was nothing. She wanted to surpass herself and show the world what she was capable of. She repeated the same movements over and over again every day, and had now mastered them almost perfectly.
For several weeks now, Asmira had been experiencing disturbances in the Force. She couldn't explain it in concrete terms, but her dreams and thoughts were blurred. She couldn't work out what was happening. "Surely it's an internal conflict?" she thought. But she preferred to ignore the problem. After all, none of this concerned her any more... Asmira was sitting on a tree branch. She was watching the starry sky.
She was a little sad that evening. For some reason, she felt that her heart was in pain. She could feel her heart clenching in her chest. She watched her body trying to understand what was happening to her. When she tried to look at her hands, she was surprised to find that they were shaking. The rest of her body seemed to be shaking too. So she grabbed his shoulders in the hope of calming the tremors, but to no avail. It was only a few seconds before her vision began to blur. Her eyes began to fill with tears. Asmira Illidithas Ardan was crying. It had not happened for such a long time. Surprisingly, she, who usually managed to contain her emotions, burst into tears. She remained in the same position for long minutes. Sobbing her eyes out, unable to control herself.
The next day, although Asmira had been unable to rest last night, she resumed her usual routine. Today, however, she began her day with a meditation session. Perhaps she would find rest in meditation. Poor child, her curiosity will get the better of her. As she concentrated on making a full connection with the Force, she was overwhelmed with information, abandoning her seated position and starting to hold her head. Her face contorted in pain. Tears of pain rolled down her cheeks. She screamed. Her screams echoed in her cave. Most of the animals around her had fled in fear. After a few seconds that seemed like hours. After that, calm returned. Well, not completely. She was lying on the ground, panting, exhausted. Before fainting, all she could see was one last image. One last vision. A friend, her friend, her best friend, the one she considered to be her brother. A member of her family too, dying on the ground. She wasn't familiar with the place. But she could hear his screams. She remained motionless. The stupor and shock that had just hit her were indefinable. She let out one last tear before fainting.
Fortunately, Asmira's droid gave her first aid. A few hours later, she woke up on the straw mattress that served as her bed. It wasn't luxurious, but it was comfortable. She stood up, holding her head in her hands. The scene was still haunting her mind. The tears began to flow again. Asmira broke down for the second time.
Nothing would ever be the same again. Her life will be changed forever. I don't even know if she'll survive until she's sent back to the front. Asmira's fate is uncertain. The loss of a loved one is painful. Very painful. Few manage to overcome it. Let us pray, dear reader, that our young lady survives this difficult time. But deep down, you know that everything will be fine. Otherwise, why am I telling you this story?
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swordhearte · 2 years
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Inspired by the Inktober prompt of today as well as the style of many of Mary Oliver’s pieces. 
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mysticsparklewings · 2 years
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Inktober 2022 Day 5: Flame 🔥
Not quite burning the midnight oil tonight, but still closer than I’m strictly comfortable with. 🫤 
 For this one though, I decided to let the magnets take the lead instead of thinking about it too much. Sometimes they just know best.✨ 
 More about the art & my process here: www.deviantart.com/mysticsparklewings/art/Inktober-2022-Day-5-Flame-932029680
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socksy-wocksy-writing · 7 months
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Writeotber Day 1, Cold
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mirkwoodmunson · 1 year
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mid-west monster #1
werewolf!eddie munson x reader
you’ve been with eddie munson for a few months now, and while you knew the boy harbored some secrets — you weren’t aware just how hairy things were about to get
tw: cursing, body horror(? i think?)
a/n: for writeober i’ll be attempting to do (hopefully) daily drabbles, each one a progression of this fic and based around a generated prompt! feel free to send any in as well if you’d like to inspire future installments! happy halloween! LMAO anyway.... i abandoned this wip in early oct. when i realized i should maybe focus on my big move instead of writing, kept getting sad looking at it sitting in my drafts so i decided to slap on a quick sort-of-ending and just post it cause... i love werewolf!eddie so fucking much y'all ;; he'd be the scruffiest stankiest doggo bf and i'm HERE FOR IT. not sure if this'll be continued as past me suggested but if it gets some traction i'd look into progressing the story! hope you enjoy!
Your knuckles are a ghostly white, latched to the steering wheel where your thumb rubs hard into the frayed edge of the wheel cover, anxious and tense. Eddie had been radio silent for the third day now, Hellfire had gathered in the hopes that maybe he’d make some dramatic entrance after working on the materials for this session — but no Dungeon Master had shown his mischievous grin. You’d called and called, stopped by but Wayne had solemnly sent you off each time, assuring you his boy was fine — just going through a rough illness. Maybe it was selfish to think but it made you angry, if he was sick he could still pick up a phone, right? It was the honeymoon stage yet, you’d only started dating a few months back and you could admit you had a tendency to cling to him, but to be fair he seemed to be clinging to you, too. Till now, at least. Had something changed so suddenly?
You let out a heavy breath you just now realize you’d been holding and scold yourself. ‘Your thoughts aren’t always true. Wayne said he was sick so he’s sick. I can at least bring him a treat.’ Looking over at the tote bag of tupperware’d food you encourage yourself to smile and hold it as you pull into the Munson’s drive.
Wayne wasn’t home, but Eddie’s van was here, and so you collect your things and exit your car, hopping up the steps and rapping the door.
No answer.
“Eddie?”
A neighbor’s dog starts barking a few doors down. You could swear you hear something from inside, rustling and a door slamming shut.
“Eds? You in there? It’s me! I brought you some stuff.”
Nothing.
“W-Wayne said you were super sick, so…” you trail off softly, lowering your arms and heaving a sigh.
“Eddie? I know you’re home I— … I’m worried about you, I just—“ you groan softly and just set everything down on the steps, worried the more you call to him the more annoyed he’s getting.
“I’ll just… I’m setting your stuff down out here for you, okay? Don’t forget about it.” A few more moments leaned against the door, waiting for anything, but nothing comes and you can’t help a slight pang, heading back down the steps.
“…Feel better, Eds.” Glancing back you cant even look inside, the curtains all shut tight. ‘He must really be sick.’
You head home but for the rest of the night your thoughts and worries start to take over a little, unable to sit still as you pace your room and question every last interaction you’d had with him, wonder about every possible illness you knew the name of. If he’d just call, pick up when you rang, just say one word to let you know you didn’t need to worry so much.
As you’re in the middle of that thought the phone does indeed ring, and you nearly trip over yourself to get to it, ripping the receiver from the cradle and holding it tight against your ear.
“Hello??”
“…”
“… Hello? Someone there?”
“Y/N?” His voice is low, weak, obscured slightly but it’s Eddie. Oh, your heart nearly beats from your chest.
“Eddie?? Babe what the f— I’ve been so worried! Are you okay?”
“… … I- … I’m- I’m fine, promise. I’m fine.” He sounds strained.
“Are you sure? Do you need anything? I-I left you some stuff—“
“Sweetheart I— I can’t… Can’t really talk much, now… Just… Wanted to tell you, I’m okay…” There’s some rustling as though he’s covering the receiver on his end; you swear you hear him whimper.
“Eds?? Eddie please I-“ *click*
You hang onto the phone long enough for the signal to start bleeping at you as if in irritation that you’re still on the line, reminding you to set it back down in its cradle.
The clock tells you it’s close to midnight. Your brain tells you something’s very wrong.
Fifteen minutes later you’re rocking to a sudden halt in your car, once again sat in Eddie’s driveway. Same as before, Wayne isn’t home yet, and Eddie’s van is parked just beside you. The tote bag you’d left still sat on the steps.
You step out, striding up to his door with purpose and this time just trying the knob — locked. Glancing down the length of the trailer, the curtains still seemed to be drawn and there’s no discernible light peeking through, save for Eddie’s bedroom, a soft orange glow from a covered lamp indicating some presence.
Hoping to high heaven that neither Munson would hold trespassing against you, you bend down and lift the mat as you’d seen Eddie do a few times — the hidden spare key glinting at you in the moonlight. Using it on the lock, you turn the knob again and suck in a deep breath as you push the door open into an eerily silent, pitch-black living room.
“…Eddie?” Your voice is soft and hitched, trembling a little, too quiet to get anyone’s attention. Why were you kind of freaking out right now? There’s a rustle down the hall, a gruff, muffled noise and you gasp, jumping in your step. Looking down the hallway, it’s that same lightless black, until your eyes reach Eddie’s bedroom door — that orange light bleeding through the space between the door and the floor.
“E-Eddie?” You find yourself taking slow steps towards his room, eyes locked onto that strip of light. When a shadow runs across it you feel a cold sweat break over you. “Eds, seriously, seriously I’m kind of freaked out right n—“
There’s no time to react as the door slams open and crashes into the wall, a large, shivering figure in the doorway wearing Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirt, but it’s ripped and stained. You can’t make it out exactly, but the light from behind it illuminates its shape — and it’s much bigger than Eddie. Rugged; shoulders heaving. But its breathing is… unnatural. Almost like there’s a growl laced in it. You stumble backwards and to the floor from the initial shock of the door flying open, hastily lifting yourself onto your elbows, and when you behold this figure you gasp a sharp, shuddering breath, trying to croak out a scream but it catches and you find you can only stutter and whimper, struggling to scurry backwards but your movements are shaky and your limbs feel frozen.
It heaves a growl, snarls but it’s eerily soft, and takes a heavy step forward, vibrating through you. Your mind screams at you to move but you’re still just scrambling, arms heavy, trying to inch yourself away as you emit low whimpers, eyes wide and unable to leave the beast before you. Its eyes glow an unnatural yellow and it’s how you know it’s staring right back into yours. You can make it out a little better now, but your mind struggles to comprehend exactly what you’re looking at.
The creature is at least seven feet tall, almost entirely covered in dark, wavy fur. Its limbs don’t fit, however, they’re too human as its fingers reach up to pull at a mane of wild, shaggy hair, and that’s when you really notice the ears. They’re tall, pointed, set back like a dog ready to lunge. Its muzzle just the same, canine and lined with sharp teeth as it snarls. Eddie’s Hellfire tee… why was it wearing that??
“E-E— Ed—die…“ The tears fall freely and you cry. ��So this is how I’m gonna die,’ you think. ‘This monster must have eaten Eddie and now it’s gonna eat me too.’
At the sound of your voice, however, something changes quickly. The beast spasms as if struck, crouching and curling into itself as it whines. As you watch in horror, you witness the final stage of this creature's transformation. The same dark fur breaks out over rippling arm and leg muscles, as the creature whines again and groans; you gasp, watching fingers lengthen and sharpen into claws. Arms and legs swell with muscle beneath the sheath of fur, and a howl of pain twins with a sob that wracks you. Terror and fear and also... sympathy. How do you know this creature?? Why are you suddenly so sad that it's hurting.
The beast's head snaps up, yellow eyes aglow, and it... calms. It sighs, almost, relieved the worst of it is over and now its attention is locked onto you. But the menace is gone -- if anything, this creature seems worried. Upset. Sad that it's frightened you.
You're still trembling, however, still weeping silently on the floor as you just lock eyes with this hulking being in front of you. The Hellfire tee... You keep scanning, gaze wandering over the wavy fur, and something dangling from this beast's neck makes your heart drop. The shirt should have given it away, but how could you think straight when a literal werewolf was snarling and staring you down. But now, Eddie's pick hanging from it's thick, furry neck...
You take in a shuddering breath, shaking your head in disbelief. The wolf begins to whine, lowering its head, ears lowered and pulled back again but now like a dog ashamed of what it's done. You cant help a bark of a laugh, the tears continuing to spill.
"EDDIE??! WHAT THE HELL!!"
Your werewolf boyfriend barks. You swear you see his tail wag.
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shallyouobeyme · 7 months
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Hi :) I really liked bounce and I was just wondering if you plan on ever continuing that story ?
Right now my main focus lies on completing Yandere Writeober, but I really enjoyed writing Bounce so I definitely consider it, who knows maybe one of the prompts fits for a sequel or I'll have some time and inspiration otherwise where I'll write it extra. It really excites me that you liked it so I do hope if I ever (which is likely) write a part two you'll enjoy that as well
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heart-ephemeral · 2 years
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Hi everyone, Aster here! I have finished and planned a sort of writeober/monstober for monster Twisted Wonderland. I have written all 31 days for a halloween special. Due to the fact that I wrote so much, I will be going on a little hiatus for writing. I will still be taking requests, just not updating as much after October.
Thank you so much!
Aster.
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Get ready, y'all! It begins tomorrow!!!
Something Special for the Spooky Month
Here's my fifth Detroit: Become Human Prompt Challenge. In celebration of Inktober/Writeober I'll bring you a full month of prompts this time.
It will take place from October 1st - 31st, 2021.
As always, I hope for lots of participants and I can't wait to see what you guys come up with this time. Let's get spooky, let's get dark, bring on the angst! Or use the prompts however you want and make something fluffy or funny out of them or let all the hurt heal with some good comfort ;) . You know I really don't mind how you use my prompts as long as you use them :D .
Prompts:
October 1st - Friday: unknown sender
October 2nd - Saturday: password incorrect
October 3rd - Sunday: autopilot
October 4th - Monday: digital nightmares
October 5th - Tuesday: immortal
October 6th - Wednesday: data missing
October 7th - Thurday: deactivation
October 8th - Friday: prison of logic
October 9th - Saturday: void
October 10th - Sunday: access denied
October 11th - Monday: three laws of robotics
October 12th - Tuesday: incompatible
October 13th - Wednesday: seven digital sins
October 14th - Thurday: shutdown inevitable
October 15th - Friday: creator
October 16th - Saturday: does this unit have a soul?
October 17th - Sunday: flight mode
October 18th - Monday: just a machine
October 19th - Tuesday: GPS signal lost
October 20th - Wednesday: not part of my program
October 21st - Thursday: virtual reality
October 22nd - Friday: danger detected
October 23rd - Saturday: system temperature critical
October 24th - Sunday: five nights at CyberLife
October 25th - Monday: incomplete
October 26th - Tuesday: white noise
October 27th - Wednesday: experiment
October 28th - Thursday: file not found
October 29th - Friday: virus
October 30th - Saturday: junkyard
October 31st - Sunday: no heaven for androids
Information and Rules:
The tag for this challenge is #dbhghostsinthemachine. Please use this tag for any of your contributions and follow it in case you want to see what other people do with the prompts
Any kind of art or writing is most welcome
You're free to choose any character or ship from the D:BH fandom (no OCs) you like
Show/Write what you want, but please make sure to tag your content correctly, so people who don't want nsfw/gore/a specific ship/whatever on their dash don't have to see it
Don't bash anybody for their chosen ship or content!
You can contribute more than one piece per day
Of course you can pick single prompts from the list, you don't have to do all of them if you don't want to
If you can't finish a submission in time, you can always post it belated
Not a rule, but I'd really appreciate if you'd tag me ( @connor-sent-by-cyberlife ) if you contribute something to this challenge
Reblogs to bring attention to this challenge would be highly appreciated
If you have any further questions, please feel free to ask
Thank you for your interest and support!
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hysterialevi · 3 years
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Day 25 - Jarl
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"There he sat in those desolate halls, watching as his son chased after the future that had been stolen from him."
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"The boy ventured blindly into the arms of the enemy, fervent with determination to reclaim the glory he so desperately desired."
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"But alas, he returned. Broken and bruised, he sought the end to his saga in the very same place it began, only to find his father chasing after a past that could no longer be repaired."
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prince-strife · 4 years
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Hi y’all!! I’m sososo excited to announce that I’ve made an October prompt list! I’ve wanted to write more lately, and I originally just made this for myself, but I thought it’d be cool to see other people’s ideas! Hope y’all enjoy this!
Edit: Not sure how many people will see this, but I forgot to say that if you’re writing, fan fiction and original stories are both perfectly fine! 💕
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omitsucoven · 7 months
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Day 4: The Day I Lost You.. (French)
Not especially proud of this one.. I will probably rewrite it one day
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Word Count : 894
Letter Count (no spaces): 4k740
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Asmira s‘était installée temporairement dans la bordure extérieure. Il lui semblait plus raisonnable de se faire toute petite depuis la mise en scène de sa mort, elle devait se faire toute petite. Elle avait donc jeté son dévolu sur le secteur Lahara et avait établi son camp sur Agamar. Installée dans une grotte, elle passait le plus clair de son temps à s’entraîner, attendant patiemment le temps où elle serait appelée au front. L’ancienne chevalière Jedi était devenue une Sith après sa rencontre avec l’esprit de Dark Traya. Depuis sa victoire contre elle, elle avait obtenu le titre officiel de seigneur sith. Depuis, elle servait Dark Sidious,occupant le rôle d’inquisiteur. Cela faisait 1 an, 6 mois, 20 jours, 12 heures et 45 minutes que Asmira Illidithas Ardan avait été déclarée portée disparue. Un tragique "incident" aurait causé sa perte. 
Elle y pensait sans cesse. Regrettant presque parfois l'époque où elle servait avec une ferveur religieuse l'Ordre Jedi entourée de ses proches et de ceux qu'elle aimait. Quand bien même ils étaient devenus ses ennemis désormais, elle ne pouvait s'empêcher de s'inquiéter pour quelques-uns d’entre eux. Après tout, ils étaient ce qui s'apparenterait le plus à une famille pour elle. Asmira n’avait pas eu une enfance des plus.. conventionnelle. Issue d’une famille assez pauvre et dans le besoin, Asmira n'eut pas un début de vie facile. Cependant, peut-être aurait-il été préférable qu’elle vive cette vie. Que ce serait-il passé si Garyl Argtur ne l’avait pas achetée auprès de ses parents ? Et si ces derniers avaient refusé l’offre ? Peut-être qu’elle aurait été plus heureuse. Finissant ses pompes en arbres, elle fit redescendre ses pieds. les laissant retoucher le sol. Elle essuya de sa main gantée les gouttes de sueur qui perlaient son visage. Elle observait les alentours avant de continuer son entraînement quotidien. Elle apprenait les arts martiaux, s’étant rendue compte que sans son sabre elle n’était rien. Elle voulait se surpasser et montrer au monde de quoi elle était capable. Elle reproduisait tous les jours sans cesse les mêmes mouvements, elle les maîtrisait désormais presque parfaitement. 
Cela faisait déjà plusieurs semaines qu’Asmira ressentait des perturbations dans la Force. Elle ne saurait l'expliquer concrètement mais, ses rêves et ses pensées étaient brouillées. Elle ne parvenait pas à comprendre ce qu'il se passait. “Surement un conflit interne ?” se disait-elle. Elle préférait surtout ignorer le problème. Après tout, rien de tout cela ne la concernait désormais.. Asmira était installée sur une branche d’arbre. Elle observait le ciel étoilé. 
Elle était un peu attristée ce soir-là. Pour une raison qu’elle ignorait, elle sentait que son cœur était en peine. Elle sentait son coeur se serrer dans sa poitrine. Elle observait son corps essayant de comprendre ce qu’il lui arrivait. En voulant observer ses mains, elle fut surprise de constater que ces dernières étaient en train de trembloter. Le reste de son corps aussi semblait trembler. Elle agrippa donc ses épaules, dans l’espoir de calmer les tremblements, en vain. Il ne fallut que quelques secondes pour que sa vue se mette à se troubler. Ses yeux commençant à accumuler des larmes. Asmira Illidithas Ardan pleurait. Ça n’était pas arrivé depuis tellement longtemps. Surprenant, elle qui parvenait à contenir ses émotions d’ordinaire fondait en larmes. Elle resta dans la même position pendant de longues minutes. Sanglotant à chaudes larmes, ne pouvant plus se contrôler. Le lendemain, alors qu’Asmira n’avait su trouver le repos la nuit dernière, elle reprit sa routine habituelle. Cependant, aujourd’hui, elle commençait sa journée par une session de méditation. Peut-être trouvera-t-elle le repos en méditant. Pauvre enfant, sa curiosité la perdra. Alors qu’elle se concentra pour entrer pleinement en connexion avec la Force, elle fut submergée d'informations, abandonnant sa position assise pour se mettre à se tenir la tête. Le visage déformé par la douleur. Des larmes de douleur dévalant ses joues. Elle hurlait. Ses cris résonnaient dans sa grotte. La plupart des animaux aux alentours s’étaient enfuis pris par la peur. Après quelques secondes qui lui avait semblé défiler comme des heures. Après cela, le calme revint. Enfin, pas totalement. Elle était allongée sur le sol, haletante, épuisée. Avant de s'évanouir, elle ne put voir qu'une dernière image. Une dernière vision. Un ami, son ami, son meilleur ami, celui qu'elle considérait comme étant comme son frère. Un membre de sa famille en outre, agonisant au sol. L'endroit ne lui était pas familier. Mais elle entendait ses hurlements. Elle resta immobile. La stupeur et le choc qui venait de la heurter n'étaient pas définissable. Elle laissa échapper une dernière larme avant de s'évanouir. 
Fort heureusement, le droid d'Asmira lui prodigua les premiers soins. Quelques heures plus tard, elle se réveilla sur la paillasse qui lui servait de lit. Ce n'était pas le grand luxe, mais c'était confortable. Elle se releva, tenant sa tête entre ses mains. La scène hantant encore son esprit. Les larmes se remirent à couler à flots. Asmira craqua pour la seconde fois. 
Rien ne sera plus jamais pareil désormais. Sa vie restera à jamais changée. J'ignore même si elle survivra jusqu'à ce qu'on la rapatrie au front. Le destin d'Asmira est incertain. La perte d'un être cher est douloureuse. Très douloureuse. Peu parviennent à la surmonter. Prions cher lecteur que notre jeune demoiselle survive à cette mauvaise passe. Mais dans le fond, vous savez que tout ira bien. Sinon, pourquoi vous contentais-je cette histoire ?
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canisonicscrewyou · 4 years
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Happy day one of a month full of poetry and art! Every other day I’ll be posting poetry with something accompanying it. Today is brought to you by Almondmilk being a bastard, and an explanation as to why I haven’t been posting art as often lately.
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peratzatha · 4 years
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I initially made this just for me but since everybody was on board with it, I took in your suggestions and lo, we have our very own prompt list! Thank you for your suggestions! If you’re participating, don’t forget to tag me like last year, I love to see your works!! Share this with your friends if they want to join 💚💚
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cindereleanor · 3 years
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Wow @ myself, you managed to do like half the writeober challenge??😂To be fair, this is about what I expected, and I’ve definitely done more writing recently than in a while!! I’ll probably post more of the days I missed over time, but on the final day of October, here’s the finished (well, still unpolished!) version of the ghost story I did a while back. I’m counting this version as Day 30 - Spirit. XD (edit: phew I think I’ve finally worked out how to put a long post under a cut!)
The haunted places are not always the ones you might expect.
I had spent the day visiting the ruins of the abbey: as a medievalist by trade, these trips were a regular occurrence. I truly loved seeing the ancient building stand there: a husk of its former grandeur, yet somehow more richly steeped in power than ever. At least in my eyes.
Darkness was just settling over the landscape as I began packing up my notebooks, preparing to leave. Perfect. I had timed my visit deliberately to catch this moment: the abbey at night really gave meaning to the term “gothic architecture”. Really, it was a great shame that it was not open to visitors much later.
I should have just been glad to get to see it like this at all. After all, who doesn’t love a good spooky sight?
The problem with ghosts though, is that what makes them spooky is the fear of the unknown. When you anticipate that a place will be full of them, they may as well fade into nothing. Perhaps that was why I never really got the supernatural vibes that you would expect from the abbey. Well, you could also put it down to my generally sceptical nature, I suppose. So much for that ghost-hunter aesthetic I aspired towards. A pity too: I really had the perfect coat for the role.
I realised I had been dawdling, and then had to rush to catch my train. Panting, I collapsed onboard just on time. The carriage was warm compared to the biting chill of the evening air. I began to feel drowsy…
I woke with an icy shudder to feel a hand on the small of my back. Disgusted, I turned, prepared to deliver a lecture to a man who thought it was his right to touch me as he pleased. But the harasser was nowhere in sight. Blinking sleep from my eyes, I reached for my thermos of tea, hoping the caffeine would help me to keep alert for the remainder of my journey.
I was right, it did help. But the lukewarm drink was not enough to shake the chill that had taken a hold of me.
My stop came. I joined the throngs of people on the platform. A strange feeling of isolation, however, surrounded me, an invisible wall of ice between me and the crowds. I was adrift. Lost.
That was it: lost. Something about this place felt unfamiliar. Maybe spending so many hours steeped in the history of the abbey had caused my sense of time to become uncalibrated. I thought of a compass needle and how confused it becomes when a magnet is drawn close to it. Perhaps all the time I was spending in the past had begun to confuse my sense of the present? More and more people were arriving. I was invisible to them; the crowd seemed to pass right through me. Their clothing seemed like it belonged in another time? Or perhaps I was the one who did not belong?
Shaking - as if that could rid me of this eerie feeling - I continued on my way home.
Or at least, I intended to.
An arm snaked out of the shadows, pulling me back into the crowd. I whipped round, and found myself face-to-face with a man. I stared, and our eyes met each other. His gaze pierced me. It was as bright as midday, but the brightness was cold, blue, vaporous, supernatural. In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that he was real.
These strange figures were no mere conjuring of a tired imagination. Neither were they simply a crowd of commuters.
I jerked myself away. A voice called out,
‘Excuse me – I think you dropped your notebook?’
The man running up behind me could not possibly be the same man whose expression had just bored through my soul. He was too warm, too earnest, too much the bearded glasses-wearing hipster type. A hot wave of relief flooded through me and I reached out to take my notebook from his outstretched hand.
But my hand slipped through.
His normal, oh so normal, eyes met mine, a look of pure terror on his face. In the cold fog of his glasses, I glimpsed the reflection of my own eyes: an icy, blinding blue.
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maisulli · 4 years
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combined response to my prompts,  “grazing” / “hamlet tongue”
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