She Watches Over Us And The Night, Her Soft Purrs Causing The Stars Stuck In Her Fur To Ripple And Our

“Dress how you want to be addressed.” ...so can i now dress like a person who lives in a large mansion and is probably a witch/necromancer but the only thing she actually brings back from the dead is her bone cat/miniature dragon, and her cottage looks ramshackle and forgotten, but if you go down into the cellar it’s a spiral staircase that keeps going down and down until you find new rooms full of hidden knowledge and forgotten spells?

slytherin culture is constantly being on the verge of either snapping a pencil in half because you can’t anymore or napping because you can’t anymore

and i as well, my love, hold the same

Hi guys, this is from my other account that ended up not liking me and letting me in.  Psych

Prompt #2010

“Did I ever really matter to you?”

“Yes,” said the antagonist. “You meant everything to me. You still do. And that’s why you have to die.”

It was all a mistake.  A misunderstanding.  Another day, another fight.  Except...this time Eclipse had won. The alleyway was dark, abandoned.  The girl ripped off her own mask, letting even more tears trace their paths down her face.  “Stay with me- no, don’t you dare.  Not now- not yet...”  She clutched the body of her love, shaking in horrible cries.  Small fires burned, not yet having burned themselves out.  The villain didn’t care if the coals burned her, what did it matter.  It had all been a game, of some sort or another.  They had started out as friends, and then she would merely pull pranks on him and he would do them back.  Until one day a line was crossed.  After all, when two people are special and have powers, eventually it all goes downhill.  Her sister died because of him.  She still remembered his stunned face, even through the mask.  He tried to say he was sorry, looked down horrified at himself.  He tried to make it better.  She shoved him away, snarling that she didn’t want any part in it.  Sorrow and anger were easier to justify than mercy and remorse.  That’s when it stopped being a game.  She wanted his death, and she had gotten it. 

There were times when she didn’t have to be different.  Days when she could just be herself.  Narah.  Days when she could just sit in a coffee shop and people watch, or walk her dog in the park, or attempt to do yoga for fun.  But when her sister died, someone new came into her life.

Ronan.  Tall.  Funny.  He had freckles on his nose that scrunched when he laughed, and red-gold hair.  They met at the funeral.  He had come up to her and said his condolences like everyone else.  She gave the same response as she gave anyone else and moved about the room.  But when they ran into each other again, in the park, that’s when something started.  He asked her how she was doing, and she was honest.  That was when their friendship started.  He was the only one who knew, truly knew who she was.  He found out when he knocked on the door of her apartment after she hadn’t talked to anyone, or left in days.  All of the rooms had ice dripping from them, drawing into their source.  Her.  She had been sobbing for days, her grief unquenchable.

As months went by, the line blurred between friend and lover.  They did everything together, and he knew all of her faults and loved her for it.  He never tried to stop her from fighting her nemesis.  Once, and only once, he asked her why. She stopped by his apartment and found him nursing a deep gash on his face.  He just said he got in a fight and left it at that.  But then, later on, while they were talking over coffee, he asked her softly why she fought her nemesis like she did. After a long time she answered, "Because if I don't, I feel like I will forget her."

But that was all gone, her future with him dripping through her fingers just like the blood did.  She pressed herself to him, clutching his body and curling into it.  Her sobs echoed against the stone in the ally, her body shaking.  

“Don’t go.... don’t leave me alone.”  

He didn’t answer.

Prompt #2090

“No,” they whimpered. “N-no, not you, anyone but you.” They slumped to their knees, cradled the hero’s face between the hands that had killed them. “I never knew- never even guessed- oh god, oh god. [Hero] was just my nemesis but I love you, loved you.” They choked on their own sobbing, their lover’s skin going cold under their fingers. “Don’t leave me, please, god, just don’t leave me-”

hiiii guys.  also fyi my old account was @pygmydragon but i kiiiinda deleted that email address accidentally that was linked to the account so now I can’t get into it.  Oops.  the chances of the people that liked my writings over there actually finding this are very very slim but if you do- Hi!  I love you guys!  I do still exist!  Just not over there!  I moved!  (aight imma shut up now)

Myths, Creatures, and Folklore

Want to create a religion for your fictional world? Here are some references and resources!

General:

General Folklore

Various Folktales

Heroes

Weather Folklore

Trees in Mythology

Animals in Mythology

Birds in Mythology

Flowers in Mythology

Fruit in Mythology

Plants in Mythology

Folktales from Around the World

Africa:

Egyptian Mythology

African Mythology

More African Mythology

Egyptian Gods and Goddesses

The Gods of Africa

Even More African Mythology

West African Mythology

All About African Mythology

African Mythical Creatures

Gods and Goddesses

The Americas:

Aztec Mythology

Haitian Mythology

Inca Mythology

Maya Mythology

Native American Mythology

More Inca Mythology

More Native American Mythology

South American Mythical Creatures

North American Mythical Creatures

Aztec Gods and Goddesses

Asia:

Chinese Mythology

Hindu Mythology

Japanese Mythology

Korean Mythology

More Japanese Mythology

Chinese and Japanese Mythical Creatures

Indian Mythical Creatures

Chinese Gods and Goddesses

Hindu Gods and Goddesses

Korean Gods and Goddesses

Europe:

Basque Mythology

Celtic Mythology

Etruscan Mythology

Greek Mythology

Latvian Mythology

Norse Mythology

Roman Mythology

Arthurian Legends

Bestiary

Celtic Gods and Goddesses

Gods and Goddesses of the Celtic Lands

Finnish Mythology

Celtic Mythical Creatures

Gods and Goddesses

Middle East:

Islamic Mythology

Judaic Mythology

Mesopotamian Mythology

Persian Mythology

Middle Eastern Mythical Creatures

Oceania:

Aboriginal Mythology

Polynesian Mythology

More Polynesian Mythology

Mythology of the Polynesian Islands

Melanesian Mythology

Massive Polynesian Mythology Post

Maori Mythical Creatures

Hawaiian Gods and Goddesses

Hawaiian Goddesses

Gods and Goddesses

Creating a Fantasy Religion:

Creating Part 1

Creating Part 2

Creating Part 3

Creating Part 4

Fantasy Religion Design Guide

Using Religion in Fantasy

Religion in Fantasy

Creating Fantasy Worlds

Beliefs in Fantasy

Some superstitions:

Read More

Story from my other account

The fae run free

A shiver ran along the ground, leaves shaking themselves free from the trees.  Something was awakening.  Villagers clutched their cloaks closer about them as a rumbling shook the forest.  

It was the one night that the fae could be free, peculiar beings they were.  An ancient spell from a mage long ago had imprisoned them, locked them far away from the world and one another.  But this one precious day a year they were set free to dwell, to feel real, once again.

Keep reading

part of me wants to become a pianist, elegant and poised wearing long light pink skirts on a daily basis, and kitten heels, and can perfect my craft for hours on end. part of me wants to become an author who can spin stories from lost things, and snuggle up with my notebooks and tea and sweaters and just dream of worlds that i wasnt meant to live in but i could share.  part of me wants to become a rebel and wear black leather jackets while reading angsty poetry, chop my hair short and fight for what matters to me, the kind of person who doesn’t care what others think of them as long as a point has been made.  So.  I don’t know what I want to do.  But whatever I do, I can assure you that I will not be boring.