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allyouneediswall · 4 months
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animepopheart · 5 months
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★ 【咲真コウ】 「 白雪ユリ 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on twitter
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Shadows of Guilt: The Final Gift (part 3)
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Previous
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“Surrogacy?” Bloodlamb repeated the news with a gaping mouth, sharing Leafcurl’s earlier surprise. “What did you say?”
“That I would talk to you first,” Leafcurl answered, settling in their shared nest next to her. She watched as the wind buffeted the trees outside. It was difficult to take much notice of anything though, not with the hundreds of thoughts racing through her mind at once. Her claws were working in and out of the lichen-leaf nest under her.
It was one of two nests they had. They lived in a  log wide enough to fit the two of them comfortably with space to spare, wedged in what must have once been a rockslide. One nest they had at the mouth of their den, meant for this purpose: to enjoy the scenery cozily. The other they had beyond the other end of the log, in an open space they had dug out of the landslide. That was where they slept.
They simply needed to pull the overhanging branches from nearby trees to cover the entrance. It cast the entire inside of the den in near-pure blackness. It had unsettled and frightened Leafcurl at first, but it became easier to deal with, and now it didn’t bother her at all. 
Bloodlamb, on the other hand, was very welcome to the darkness. She had, after all, grown up in the Gaping Maw caves, a territory that was far from where they lived now. Because of me, Leafcurl thought, feeling a fresh wave of gratefulness for her love. Bloodlamb knew how important Leafcurl’s family and home was to her, and how uncomfortable new things could make her, and was more than willing to stay with her close to Leafcurl’s family, even if it meant moving away from her own.
Leafcurl purred, thinking of all the times Bloodlamb had soothed her in the darkness.
You don’t need to see, she had said. Just feel me next to you. 
“You gonna say yes?” Bloodlamb asked, cutting into her thoughts and giving her a look.
“What? Uh, why?”
“Because you’re purring.”
“Oh.” Right. Their talk. The important talk. “What do you think?”
Bloodlamb was fiddling with a minnow bone between her teeth. “We’re both surrogacy kin, ain’t we? I have grandmothers, you, fathers.”
Leafcurl nodded. “Right.”
“My aunts 'n uncles never knew their father,” Bloodlamb went on. “Don’t know what he looks like.”
Leafcurl fidgeting with the leaves. “Sparktail and my papa were close friends before he had us with dad. We still see her lots.” 
“Hon.” Bloodlamb placed a paw on Leafcurl’s shoulder. Her face was solemn, taking Leafcurl by surprise. “They don’t know what he looks like,” she said again, and this time, the words sunk in. What if the same happens with these kits? Would they never know Leafcurl, never know her pelt, never able to pick her from a crowd? Would the only thing they would ever know her as be the cat that carried them for a couple moons? Sure, she and her littermates saw Sparktail often and referred to her as their aunty, but she had been friends with their fathers long before they considered having kits. Leafcurl, Larksnow, and Tawnyshriek were an entirely different story.
Bloodlamb went on. “Right now, they’re just a thought. But love, two moons of carrying? A moon of nursing at least? Would you be ready to part after that? Give them up?”
“They’re not meant to be my kits,” Leafcurl told her, and partly told herself.
“That don’t make it any less painful when they’re taken away,” Bloodlamb replied lightly. 
Leafcurl sucked in a breath. Was she right? She was silent for a long time, searching everywhere in her scattered mind until finally her racing thoughts were closer to organized and neatly packaged ideas. “Your aunts and uncles made your mothers happy, right?”
Bloodlamb grinned. “I like to think so.”
“I know my siblings and I made our fathers happy, and that they loved us and cared for us so much and so well.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I…” Leafcurl searched for a way to put it into words. “I want to allow someone else that happiness. I want to be the…the…”
“Miracle-maker,” Bloodlamb finished, eyes soft. 
“But I need you to be okay with it, the kits and the–the making the kits, and the whole deal.”
Bloodlamb thought for a moment, sucking in the side of her cheek. Was she going to say no? Leafcurl’s heart sped up. “Your heart is so pure. I just worry that you’re doing this for them even if it hurts ya. We haven’t even talked about birthing kits. Everyone knows it hurts worse than a Star’s bite, and the ‘process,’ ya sure you’re comfortable with that?”
Leafcurl considered that, thinking. “Well I wouldn’t enjoy it, but it’s not like I’m meant to. But I can handle it, both aspects. And…I don’t think I have to worry about not seeing them, not too much. Our families are close. We’re not, but–surely we’ll still see them lots. And I can ask to be a part of their lives, even if it’s small. Or maybe I can be a mentor, or volunteer at that place Fungichomp has.”
Bloodlamb licked the space between Leafcurl’s ears. A small gesture, but the strength behind it was more than enough to assure Leafcurl of her affection. “You sound sure. If you really want to, I’ll support ya. But give it some time, yeah? Sleep on it a few nights.”
Yeah, that was reasonable. Leafcurl smiled as her eyes met her mate’s. Bloodlamb could be so vicious and loud, swinging claws at anyone who so much as sneezed on her unintentionally, but with Leafcurl she was gentle, caring, loving. She didn’t have this talk for the sake of herself, but of concern for Leafcurl. And for that, Leafcurl thought that she had somehow fallen deeper in love, and she buried her chin deep in Bloodlamb’s side. “Can we sleep now?” 
Bloodlamb’s turn to purr came. She curled around Leafcurl, resting her chin on the brown cat’s spine. This wasn’t their sleeping nest, but it would do just fine.
===============
--Blood has a fluctuating accent!
--We get a peak at the wlw couple!
--Sparktail is mentioned so psst @elementaldeityoffood
--I am writing this when I am about to fall asleep so fingers crossed it came out halfway intelligible.
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darkparablesgainira · 7 months
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Dark Tales: Edgar Allan Poe's
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One of the excellent series of games of the company "AMAX interactive". Beautiful characters, interesting stories and, of course, the magnificent Dupin Auguste)
There are 18 parts of the game in total. And all are based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe. Of course, there are some changes to improve the perception of the game, but they do not break it in any way
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P.s: I use a translator. If half of the words are not clear, sorry👁️👅👁️
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harmonyhealinghub · 6 months
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Edgar Allan Poe: Unraveling the Mastermind who Revolutionized Horror Shaina Tranquilino October 28, 2023
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When it comes to horror literature, there is one name that stands out above all others – Edgar Allan Poe. Born in 1809, this enigmatic American author left an indelible mark on the world of literature with his dark and mysterious tales. With his unparalleled ability to delve into the depths of human psyche, Poe's work has forever transformed the genre of horror, inspiring countless authors and filmmakers over the years.
Poe's Unique Style:
Edgar Allan Poe was a master of creating an eerie atmosphere through vivid descriptions and chilling narratives. His stories were often characterized by themes of death, madness, and the macabre, leaving readers on the edge of their seats. Unlike other writers of his time, Poe refused to shy away from exploring the darker aspects of human nature.
The Birth of Detective Fiction:
Apart from his contributions to horror fiction, Poe is also hailed as the pioneer of detective fiction. In fact, his character C. Auguste Dupin was a precursor to famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot. Stories such as "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" and "The Purloined Letter" showcased Poe's keen analytical mind and introduced readers to deductive reasoning long before it became popular.
Psychological Depth:
One aspect that sets Poe apart from other authors is his exploration of psychological depth. He delves into the darkest corners of human consciousness and exposes our deepest fears and desires. This penetrating analysis resonates with readers even today, making his works timeless classics.
"The Tell-Tale Heart," for example, showcases how guilt can drive a person insane. The narrator's obsession with a single eye reveals not only their own deteriorating mental state but also serves as a metaphor for humanity's hidden sins lurking beneath the surface.
Legacy in Poetry:
While primarily known for his short stories, Poe's impact on poetry is equally significant. His haunting and melancholic verses have become celebrated works in their own right. Poems such as "The Raven," "Annabel Lee," and "The Bells" continue to captivate readers with their lyrical beauty, evocative imagery, and exploration of themes like love, loss, and the inevitability of death.
Influence on Contemporary Horror:
Edgar Allan Poe's influence on contemporary horror cannot be overstated. Countless authors, filmmakers, and artists draw inspiration from his unique style and themes even today. The dark atmospheres, psychological depth, and twists that have since become synonymous with the genre owe a great debt to this literary pioneer.
Poe's Legacy Continues:
Despite facing personal tragedies throughout his life and enduring financial struggles, Edgar Allan Poe left an indelible mark on literature. His work continues to resonate with audiences worldwide, captivating us with its eerie charm and immersive storytelling.
Edgar Allan Poe forever changed the world of horror through his masterful writings. His ability to explore the depths of human fear and obsession has influenced countless authors who followed in his footsteps. From his chilling tales of suspense to his introspective poetry, Poe remains an icon whose legacy will continue to haunt our collective imagination for generations to come.
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”Then I will create a death kinder than your stars,”
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The start of the in between
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Mallow stood before the starry cats in the pale green fields, rich with life he’d only seen in the most sheltered pockets of forest. Behind him lay pink sand as far as the eye could see, glimmering in the moonlight. 
Stars rippled in the tortoiseshell mollys pelt, moving like waves as they glistened and turned. As she walked closer, stardust sprayed up from her paws in a cloud of shimmering light. 
Mallow swallowed nervously, stardust filling his lungs. He buried his nose in the fluff of his chest and breathed deeply until his lungs felt clear. The kits at his feet squirmed, their eyes barely open. They were little more than small scraps in the expanse around them, crusted blood still lingering on their pelts from the battle. 
Distantly, Mallow could feel the cool trickle of blood slowing on his back as the wounds had begun to knit back together like pins and needles stinging his spine. 
“Where am I?” Mallow asked the cat as she sat in front of him, tail wrapped around her front paws. She smiled kindly at him, tilting her head. 
“Sweetheart, I’m afraid you’re…” She trailed off. 
“Dead?” He said bluntly, his ears flicking in annoyance as she nodded meekly. He’d felt himself die, she didn’t need to act like he was fragile. Mallow felt a lump fill his throat as he looked down. Only three kits dead. He’d saved the other two. 
“My name is FlowerBeam. I’m here to guide you into starclan and away from the endless sands. You fought bravely, but now I need to take these ones from you,” she dipped her head, her yellow eyes shining as bright as the stars around her. 
“Why?” Mallow’s fur stood up, and he took a step forward so the kits were underneath him. 
“They don’t belong here. They can’t come with you, their bloodlines are too tainted,” FlowerBeam looked down at the small kits, her expression hardening, eyes slitted as they mewled desperately for milk, for warmth. “The others would not approve of the kin of murders walking among them,” 
“Tainted? They didn’t do anything wrong.” He scoffed, eyebrows raised. “They’re kits. They didn’t choose who their parents were. They won’t even remember!” His meows turned into a low hiss, rumbling deep in his throat. 
“I don’t make the rules,” She said, ears pinned back. “They have to go to the place of no stars, with their fallen kin.” She flicked her tail towards the blackened, twisted woods he’d glanced when he first arrived. 
The grass died as it got closer to the forest, hot muck bubbling by the trees. The longer he looked, the more bright red, glowing dots blinked back at him. The eyes of the dead, he realized as his heart skipped a beat. 
One of the small kits sneezed, unaware of the world around it. No. No. This wasn’t happening. 
“If you leave them, I can take you to see the others in the fields of endless hunting. Starclan,” she said with a dreamy expression, as if she wasn’t sentencing them to a life of pain.. if they even survived  in that dark forest. 
Mallow pictured the warm taste of shrew in his mouth, the feeling of sunlight warming his fur and flowers clinging to his pelt. It was tempting to go back to that. But these kits had never gotten to feel that, and never would if he agreed. 
Mallow swallowed, taking a deep breath as he pictured his sister beside him, her soft, long fur getting caught in tendrils around her large paws. Would she be in the fields, waiting for him? 
He couldn’t believe that, couldn’t let himself picture her beaming up at him while these kits would be torn limb from limb. 
“No.” His voice sounded steady, unwavering, and he tried to hide his shock at how certain he sounded. He had to be making the right decision. 
“Excuse me?” She said, “do you understand what you’re giving up?” 
“Do you understand what you’re asking me to do? My answer is no. They stay with me, and all of your friends can choke if you think sending these kits to that forest is right,” 
“They’re the product of evil!” FlowerBeam hissed, her tail lashing as she stood up. “You will be dead to starclan,” 
“Then I will create a death kinder than your stars. They are kittens, not carrion you can kick away.” 
“You’re making a huge mistake,” Her hackles raised, a deep, rumbling growl sounding from her throat. The stars around her began to crackle. He felt his fur raise. 
“I find I don’t quite care,” Mallow meowed, a small grin playing at his lips. He turned on his heels, letting the sand beneath him flick onto her white paws. He heard her shake them out in disgust. 
He picked the kits up one by one, positioning their small bodies, barely bigger than mice, carefully in his jaws as he headed towards the rippling pink and purple sands. 
He would find somewhere for them, even if it killed him a second time. 
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This is (hopefully) the start of a series of stories about the afterlife for ghosts, which I’ve labeled the Crystal Path. 
Father Mallow watches over the ghosts and leads them along the crystal path where they can choose to be reincarnated, sent to starclan, or made a ghost to wonder and protect the clan. If he feels as though they would find greater peace in the dark forest community, he will send them there with a warning. 
Crystal path is a third form of afterlife, for the ghosts of cats who do not find a place in starclan or the dark forest, such as kittypets and loners. The crystal path is represented by the shimmers in water, and the Milky Way in the sky. 
the flowers pictured in starclan are Lilys, which are deeply toxic to cats. I wanted to use them to represent the messed up ideals of starclan.
the layers go from top to bottom: dark forest, starclan, the crystal path.
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Taglist:
@residents-of-the-darkforest @residences-of-the-darkforest @ambitiousauthor @starfalcon555 @liberhoe @indigo-flightly-falls @umbranoxs @chaos-n-bees @frightnightindustries @elementaldeityoffood
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Unpopular Friendship (final) (short story)
First: https://www.tumblr.com/residents-of-the-darkforest/737215289814630400/unpopular-friendship-part-1-short-story?source=share
Previous: https://www.tumblr.com/residents-of-the-darkforest/738115228165980160/unpopular-friendship-part-3-short-story?source=share
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Poppykit’s heart pounded, thrumming through her veins down to her paws, making them beat rhythmically as she hurried silently across the brittle ground. It was not the cold, gut-squeezing heart-pound that would have her wondering if she would get caught. No, it was the thrilled, little bursts of energy as she thought how she’s doing it! She’s sneaking out, and not getting caught!
She had stalked away, then walked, and now was picking up her pace to a run. She knew it was only smart to have their meeting spot so far away from either of their parents and any watchful eyes that could tattle, but before long her legs ached and she had to resist the urge to curl down and rest. When she finally came to the small clearing sheltered by a ring of blackened holly bushes, she collapsed onto her belly with a dramatic sigh.
“Hemlockkiiiiit! Please tell me you’re here…”
“I am!” Hemlockkit announced from the shadows. Poppykit had no time to look around before she was pounced on and rolled onto her back. Hemlockkit smiled down at her, her unusually long fangs glinting in the dim light of the mushrooms that clung to the nearby trees, the only light that was offered. “Hi.”
Poppykit giggled and pushed her off. “Did anyone see you leave?”
Hemlockkit puffed out her chest proudly. “Not one! Well, Spottedtooth, but he promised not to tell a soul if I made it back before my parents wake up!” 
Poppykit nodded. “Shiverkit promised not to tell no matter how long I’m gone! But I’ll probably have to cover for him someday. Anyway, no one saw me! My moms didn’t even twitch!”
Hemlockkit batted playfully at Poppykit’s tail while Poppykit settled onto her side, allowing her legs their much-needed rest. “I wish I had done that,” she replied. “I wonder how long I have…It already took so long getting here.”
Poppykit let out a breath. “You’re telling me!”
“Aw!” Hemlockkit nudged her. “Don’t tell me you’re too tired to play!”
“Am not! Just sore’s all.”
“Aww, did the long walk hurt your little toes?” Hemlockkit teased. If it were from anyone else, Poppykit’s hair would have stood in anger, but from her best friend, she smiled a challenging grin, moving into the position of a crouch, ready to jump. 
“I’ll show you hurt toes!”
“I have an idea.” Hemlockkit proposed before Poppykit could leap at her.
“What?”
Hemlockkit gestured toward the massive karri tree five tail-lengths behind the bushes. Poppykit’s jaw dropped as she saw the massive tree for the first time. She hadn’t even noticed it in the black shadows! “Bet I can climb higher than you,” she challenged.
“But it’s huge!” Poppykit’s eyes were wide, still on the huge tree.
“Are you backing down?”
Poppykit glared at her. “Never!”
“Then come on!” Hemlockkit bounced excitedly on her paws. “We’re bound to learn this when we start our training, right? Wouldn’t it be cool to have a head start and surprise our mentors?’
“Yeah!” Poppykit agreed. The bursts of energy were returning to her. 
“Then it’s on!”
Poppykit was, if nothing else, a very confident kit. She pushed herself up the bark, digging her claws in deep as inch by inch, she scooted up the slim trunk. Her eyes were fixed on the branch high above her. She just needed to reach that, and then she could take a break…but it was so high!
Beside her, Hemlockkit took in long breaths, struggling too as she moved upward.
Poppykit was a very confident kit, a great strength and a great flaw. When she turned her head and looked back to the ground, seeing how high from the safety of the grass she came, she let out a squeak and pressed as close to the bark as she could. Her confidence was slipping like her claws might start to–!
“Hurry up, slow-poke!” 
Poppykit looked back up, and saw that Hemlockkit had gained distance. While Poppykit debated following or just going back, Hemlockkit was nearing the branch. Don’t be such a kit, she told herself. Hemlockkit was right, they were bound to do this training anyway, right? So it can’t be that bad…and when Hawkjay saw how skilled she was, she surely wouldn’t worry so much anymore! 
Gritting her teeth, Poppykit pushed on. Closer…closer…she was almost there! 
Hemlockkit had already made it to the branch and now sat on it, claws unsheathed for grip, watching and waiting for Poppykit to join her. 
Poppykit’s breath left her in a long sigh of relief as she finally, finally clambered onto the branch. It took everything in her not to just let her muscles melt away and sink into the wood. She still had to hold on.
“Who do you think your mentor will be?” Hemlockkit asked.
“Are we talking up here?”
“If you want a distraction.”
“Good. Yeah. Uhm…maybe Scorchbeetle?” They were cousins, and Poppykit highly doubted that either of her mothers would be comfortable with non-kin watching over their kits. “Oh! Maybe Crowsage! She’s so cool, she lets me get away with everything!” 
“Yeah, Hawkjay will love that.”
“Uh, right…Well, who do you think your mentor will be?”
Silence.
“Hemlockkit? Helloo?”
Poppykit blinked at her friend, and saw that she was busy staring down at the ground. “Hemlockkit? Hey, you’re not scared, are you?” Poppykit tried to make her voice sound teasing, but anxiety was swirling uncomfortably in her chest. If Hemlockkit was scared, too, then….
“Do you think it’s too high? If the branch breaks, or we slip–”
“Don’t say that!”
“What will happen to us when we land?”
“I don’t know.” Poppykit shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, and not like her heart was pounding painfully. 
“Me neither. I think I need to see.”
“See? See how?” Before Poppykit could realize what was happening, she felt a pressure on her side, and the solid branch beneath her was suddenly gone. The wind was cold as ice, pulling violently at her fur while reaching deep into her bones. She yowled in terror, her legs swinging blindly through the air as she plummeted lower and lower. “Mommy!” 
—-
No one knew of Hemlockkit’s deed. 
She would climb down to safety and return to the warm belly of her mother, and start the next day as she would any other.
Hawkjay and Lilacheart were never quite the same after that. They never found out where their daughter went or why she had left. With each passing day, the idea that she was dead became an obvious reality, but the questions would always haunt them. What had happened to her? Did she suffer? Did someone hurt her, and if so, who? Any cat they met could have been their daughter’s killer.
Shiverkit hated himself for not telling them sooner, for letting his sister leave the safety of their den and walk into the darkness alone. He never told them that he knew. He swore on his life that he wouldn’t, and the deep fear that he, too, would disappear into nothingness kept him silent. As he grew into a warrior, that fear shrank, but still he kept his silence. Telling them now would only cause them to hate him. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he was selfish. They needed closure, but would they turn their backs on him?
He had asked Hemlockkit, but she seemed just as concerned and confused, claiming that Poppykit had never made it to their spot. He followed her to where they were supposed to meet, but there was no sign that either kit had ever been there.
You may be wondering: but why?
Why would Hemlockkit murder her best friend? Was she planning it all along? Was it an accident?
Maybe, and no.
Many cats kill those they hate, or those they don’t know at all. To kill a friend, someone one actually likes and cares for for no other reason than ‘why not?’, is ludicrous!
For Hemlockpine it isn’t. Hemlockpine kills equally, friends and foes, simply because she feels like it. Hemlockkit truly did like Poppykit. She saw the ginger-and-black kit as her best friend, and loved the time they had together. Maybe the thought to push her was a spur-of-the-moment thing, maybe she was planning it the moment she challenged Poppykit to climb, or before. 
In either case, her reasoning is the same: because she could. 
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SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE! YOU THOUGHT!
ME WRITING A NICE STORY? THINK AGAIN! IT WAS A VICTIMS TALE ALL ALONG FUCKERS!
--No one ever finds out about what Hemlock did.
--Hemlockpine kills anyone--but not kin. Kin is off limits, that's the family rule.
@starfalcon555
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prfm-multiverse · 1 year
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Kyary Pamyu Pamyu sang the theme song for the mobile game "Dark Tales - Kagami to Kyouhime". The theme song by Yasutaka Nakata "Magical Mirror" (マジカルミラー) is a special song that can only be heard in the game.
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www-webwarriors · 9 months
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youtube
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sasomienspegel · 1 year
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An odd thought crossed her mind: she would pick up the heavy glass ashtray and smash her husband over the head with it.
Shirley Jackson, ‘What a Thought’, Dark Tales
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allyouneediswall · 10 months
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She-bear
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animepopheart · 11 months
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★ 【ショットガンマン】 「 白雪ユリ 」 ☆ ⊳ Dark Tales ~ Mirror & Madness Princess~ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on twitter
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Not A Bad Cat (short story)
Gorseheart halted mid-groom, his tongue just barely brushing the hairs of his mate’s neck. “Froststorm?” he called, alarmed, at the distant figure running towards them. 
Emberdawn opened her eyes and, within a heartbeat of seeing her daughter’s expression, shot to her paws and ran to meet her. “What’s happening?” she asked while Froststorm gasped for breath. “Where’s Molechive and Lightswan? I thought you were with them.”
Froststorm’s chest heaved. “They…stayed back…I ran….I had to get…you have to…” 
Gorseheart ran his tail along her side. “Breathe, honey.” Dread filled the pit of his stomach like rocks. What was happening? Why did Froststorm have to run to them?
“We didn’t know what to do, but you do,” Froststorm explained unhelpfully.
“Know what?” Emberdawn pressed.
“There’s…there’s a kit…”
—-
Gorseheart and Emberdawn followed quickly after Froststorm after she took a few more moments to rest. As they moved, Gorseheart felt anger guide his storming paws, claws gripping the earth wherever they landed. Another kit. Another kit rejected by StarClan! Didn’t they understand how dangerous it was here? Didn’t they understand they were sending kits to a potential second death? For what? Because they were too young to fully grasp their actions?
“Here,” Froststorm told them, slowing. 
Ahead of them, Lightswan seemed to be standing guard, glaring at the surrounding shadows. 
Molechive lay crouched, eyes wide and uncertain at what Gorseheart had first assumed to be a dark patch of ground. Then he realized that it was a kitten–a small one. 
Both sagged their shoulders in relief when they saw Gorseheart and Emberdawn.
Gorseheart’s heart twisted–this kit was the youngest yet.
The kit had dark grey fur and a white throat. He shivered heavily, though from fear or the cold of this forest, he wasn’t sure. He would think both, but the way the kit was pressing against Molechive’s shoulders had him thinking otherwise.
Emberdawn leaned and whispered into his ear. “He’s too young to even understand that he should be scared.” She echoed his own thoughts.
Sure, the kit appeared wary and looked at the cats with confusion and disquietness. But that was because these were strangers in a strange land. If this little tom really knew where he was, really understood it, he would have run and hid at the first sight of another cat, and he would be trembling so strongly that Gorseheart would be seeing two of him.
Gorseheart lowered onto his belly and crept closer, keeping a comfortable distance for the tom. “Hello, little one. My name is Gorseheart. What’s your name?”
“Ashkit,” the kit answered, staring at him with green eyes as wide as the moon on a Gathering night. 
“Hi Ashkit,” Emberdawn greeted from her place lying beside Gorseheart. “Do you know where you are?”
Ashkit let out what sounded like a whimper. “Somewhere bad. I did bad.”
Emberdawn let out a gentle hum. “We all do bad,” she reassured him. “No one is perfect.”
Ashkit shook his head. “I think I hurt my friends,” he wailed.
That made the family pause for a few moments as they processed that this little kit could have hurt someone, and a little more as they debated how to respond. 
“Do you feel bad about it?” Gorseheart asked.
Ashkit nodded vigorously. 
“Then you’re not a bad cat,” he told the little one simply. “Because bad cats don’t feel bad when they hurt someone, okay?”
Throughout their talking, Gorseheart had slowly crept closer and closer towards the kit. Now he stretched a paw, half-expecting the kit to flinch away as he brushed it testingly against his side. When Ashkit showed no sign of wanting to get away or wanting Gorseheart to leave, Gorseheart moved closer until the kit sat between his front paws. “So you’re a good cat, you just made a mistake.”
“I made mistakes,” Molehchive chimed in quickly, watching the kit. 
Gorseheart purred, proud of how fast Molechive jumped in to reassure the kit as well.
“I made mistakes,” Froststorm added. 
Lightswan and Emberdawn followed suit with their own admissions. 
“I hurt my friends, too,” Gorseheart went on. His heart twisted, and tore a little more when Ashkit looked up at him with those eyes that were so curious and sad and innocent all at once. “And I feel really bad about it.”
Emberdawn pressed against his side.
“Do you think I’m a bad cat?” he asked the kit.
Ashkit blinked, then shook his head.
“Well, I don’t think you’re a bad cat either.” He let the words hang for several long, long heartbeats before deciding to humour the kit. “But you are stinky!”
Ashkit giggled, caught off guard. “I’m not stinky!” he protested. 
Gorseheart sniffed his fur. “I think you are,” he replied, “very, very stinky!”
Ashkit batted at his snout.
“I think it’s you!” Emberdawn decided. She made a show of pressing her nose against Gorseheart’s shoulder and taking a long, hard sniff. Then she pulled her head back dramatically, wrinkling her muzzle. “It is you! You’re the stinky cat!”
Ashkit giggled harder, little teeth glinting in the red light. 
Froststorm joined in. “You need a bath!”
“A big one!” Lightswan added, holding a paw up to stifle her laughter.
“Hey! Why am I being ganged up on?”
“Because you smell,” Emberdawn answered.
“Well, can’t argue with that,” Gorseheart sighed. “Hey, Ashkit, do you want to come with us to our warm den and help me get all this stink off?” He added, whispering in the kit’s ear, “or help me hide from everyone who wants to give me a bath–ew!”
Ashkit nodded, grinning so wide that his mouth practically touched both ears. 
“I can carry you, if you like,” Lightswan offered. 
Ashkit paused, thinking with very readable expressions, then ran over to her.
“Do you want to share my nest?” Molechive offered, following beside them. “It’s got the comfiest moss.”
“Well, my den is the warmest,” Froststorm contested.
“I’ll teach you all the cool moves!”
Emberdawn and Gorseheart followed behind their kits, purring so hard that their bodies shook. Anger still swelled deep within Gorseheart’s chest. It had been there since they found Lightswan–then Brokenkit–and he was sure it would be there forever. But as he watched and listened as their kits welcomed and supported who would hopefully be the new addition of their family, he was overcome by immense pride.
================
--Since Lightswan, Molechive, and Froststorm were all adults by the time Ashmint joined as a two-moon old kit, they were all very welcoming towards him. It's a mix of "I know what it was like to show up here as a kit" and "I want to be the coolest big bro/sis."
--The siblings were hanging out when by chance they found this kit and pretty much all went "UH UH UH WHAT DO WE DO UH....GET MOM AND DAD THIS IS THEIR EXPERTISE."
--Gorseheart would want it to be known that he does not actually stink.....no more than any other resident.
--
Ashmint belongs to @ambitiousauthor
Molechive and Froststorm belong to @wills-woodland-warriors
Lightswan belongs to @liberhoe
I was originally gonna have Light be the one getting them, but wanted to give Frost some love. Plus something tells me Light wouldn't want to leave the kit.
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joshcockroft2 · 1 year
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Dark Tales – Shirley Jackson
29.3.2022
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roselyn-writing · 1 year
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When a rose turns black chapter 10
“Hunter and prey”
A/N it’s been a while since I updated wartb! Now it is time to post chapter 10! In this chapter, the big bad Donovan has a change of heart and decided to help his would-be killer! It is just sickeningly sweet! mentions of a ch¡ld being eaten! I warned thee!, Now! enjoy reading 💕💕
In Tortaárn, A jungle, On the west side of Virginia territories. There lives an infamous, feared hybrid beast, Between a Human and an Antāris. His name is Donovan.
He lives in a dark, gigantic castle, Much like Maleficent’s in the Disney animated movie. He sat on a chaise lounge vintage sofa. Enjoying the warmth of the fire before him. While He waited for the witch hunter to come. He is close, So, Donovan’s excitement for the game.
He commanded the fire to show him where the witch hunter is. And it obeyed her master. The fire shows him the witch hunter. Completely unaware that he is being watched by his presumed “prey”, Donovan couldn’t wait for the witch hunter to come and fight him. He is excited.
But he feels there is.. hesitation? Lingering in the witch hunter's mind and soul. He felt torn between obeying the queen and fearing for his family, He fears that Donovan's vengeance will reach his family too.
For the first time in forever. Donovan felt compassion for a human being. He felt the urge to help this fooled witch hunter, He may retreat. And go back to his family. Surprisingly, Donovan doesn’t want to kill this man. He had been fooled once, he never wanted anyone to feel the same. Let alone used for one purpose. And that is to do the queen bidding’s.
Donovan now teleports outside his palace to meet the witch hunter. He doesn’t want to attack him, he only wants to talk with him.
The Witch hunter knew that the target uses magic, so, he is prepared for anything, any surprise.
“I’m not here to fight you,” Donovan began, shocking the witch hunter. But, the witch hunter never speaks to Donovan. He remained silent, waiting for the beast to talk once more.
“As I said, I’m not going to fight you!” Donovan repeated, trying to make him talk. At least, it would be awkward for Donovan to talk alone without the other replying.
Finally, The witch hunter spoke,” I’m here because you are a monster, and you need to be dealt with!” He replied sternly at him.
“Oh! Hoho!” Donovan chuckled,” True! I am a monster, but!, Have you ever asked yourself why?” He questions. Making the witch hunter cocks his eyebrows at him.
“Don’t know, don’t care” he muttered nonchalantly.
“Oh! Playing “cold” aren’t we?” Donovan amused. “You don’t know the real coldness yet!” He added,
“I am cold,” the witch hunter replied coldly.
“I advise you to return! Where you came from!” Donovan sternly says. “You will gain nothing for endangering your life doing a whore biddings!” Donovan coldly continued.
“She told me that you killed a harmless woman!” He pointed out.
“That is not true,” Donovan answered,” She was an assassin sent to kill me!” he explained,
The witch hunter was surprised by what he had heard from Donovan, the beast he was supposed to kill, he was speechless for seconds, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. All they ever told him was to kill the beast named Donovan. They didn’t pay him in advance, which, proves the point that he may never succeed, Even worse, he may never come back alive... He cursed himself for being such a fool. He had never seen the signs, all the previous people who were sent never returned alive. Donovan knew that the witch hunter is regretting his decision for accepting this mission. Donovan looked at him. He calmly and warmly said “return home”.
“I can’t..” the witch hunter croaked.
“Yes! you can!” Donovan argued, “you are a mortal, you have free will, and you can choose to return home and be alive!” He added,
“Are you obeying a “queen” of a doomed kingdom?” He mocked, “she cannot even feed herself now, she made a humiliating pact with King Midas!” Donovan pointed out.
“You are right…” He admitted, “I should’ve seen between the lines,” he bitterly added.
“Thank you, for opening my eyes” The witch hunter thanked him.
“Don’t mention it,” Donovan uttered,
With that, the witcher hunter left to return home. Now, he will never fear the queen or her loyalists, if they ever crossed his path again, he will use his gift on them. Even though, he swore that he would never use it on a human. But they deserve what’s coming to them. He would have died like the previous assassins. That she sent with no regard for their lives, or their families, let alone think of their fates.
This incident made him rethink his life choices and decisions, of all the people and the creatures, he never thought that Donovan the one who talked with him like this, Like that beast, had a change of heart, and he thought that beasts cannot be redeemable! Who knew that a beast helped to open his would-be killer eyes? Such a strange incident and life is full of strange incidents!
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In the heart of Khÿeroma’s desert, A woman sat, she was humming in pure delight, little known of her dark origins. And little of her life, Around her the corpses of her beloved donkeys. The humming of pure delights turned into an eerie sad humming. She is mourning the death of her beloved donkeys. Her favourite pets, she gently rubbed the solid skin of the corpse near her, as the flies gather to feed on the corpses of the donkeys. She didn’t try to drive them away, she just didn’t do anything. She only sat in silence, watching the flies feed on the rotting corpses of her beloved, favourite pets.
She believes in the cycle of life, An animal feed on another animal. Thus, the cycle never breaks, and never ends. It will continue and continue till the end of time.
“This is life,” she sadly muttered to herself,
She is an undead woman, Once when she was alive, She was called Samira Macdoni. Now she is called the “Donkey Lady”. A pale and evil version of her human counterpart, She is an undead, evil, demonic lady. She can’t remember much of her previous life. only that she is the wife of the leader of a tribe, Her memories are a blur. All she remembers now is that she loves donkeys, cares for them, and tortures the man who announced killing them as a ritual of his tribe.
This only aggravated the demonic patron of the donkey. And he cursed the tribe for this, When the donkey lady knew this she started to worship this demonic entity of the donkey patron. Giving him all he wants, she gladly serves him. She will do this until she perishes, the human inside her is long dead, but, still, she wishes that someone or the superiors kill her, thus, setting her free. Free from this dark prison, free from this fate, even death is a blessing compared to her fate.
But that has to wait! She is not going to die now or tomorrow, She is starving now. She must feed. So, she teleports to a village. Her favourite type of food? Children! She loves to allure children with sweets and toys. They will fall easily for her tricks and meet their painful ends.
She hides her undead features with magic. The spell she used makes her look like a beautiful, young woman, Hiding her demonic features and her donkey-like ears. She wears a nomadic, traditional red and black dress. Her dress is long and a bit tight, defining her slim body.
She sees a boy he sat alone near the door of his home. She knows that the boy is unloved by his father, His poor mother tries everything in her power to let her son sees the total opposite. The donkey lady saw the perfect food. A child is unloved and neglected by his father! No one will miss him! Only his poor mother, The donkey lady never hesitated to go to the boy. She saw him whimpering and then wiping his tears. Although, that the tears kept welling in his eyes, strangely, she felt his sorrow. She decided that she eats him less painfully. She came to him and greeted him
“Hello there!” She greeted, “h-hi!” He greeted back, “what’s your name?” She asked again.
“My name is Neil” the boy answered, “Neil! What a beautiful name! Mines is Samira” she replied to him. Which, makes the boy happy.
“Do you wanna play?” She sweetly asked, “you wanna play with me?” The boy uttered, he couldn’t believe it, a beautiful woman asked to play with him, Normally, people would ignore him. He understood that he is ignored and neglected by the people and his father.
He smiles at the woman, and she extends her hands to him, which he happily holds it. And goes with her. Unaware that she is going to snuff out his life.
The donkey lady grabbed a ball from nowhere. She told him the rules of the game and he nodded understandably, she throws the ball to him and he catches it. She throws the ball again and he catches it again, after a while, she suggests that they will play hide and seek, and the boy nodded happily. She told him that he will hide and she will search for him. He nodded happily again.
“1…..2……..3…” she counts, giving the boy the time he needs to hide before she starts to search.
The boy goes to the backyard of one of the houses. Far away from his home, he decided. It is the best hiding place. He guessed that she will never find him, how wrong he was...
The donkey lady intentionally wastes time, she wanted to the boy to win in this game. She decided that she wants him to be happy before he fade away to black. She uses her donkey-like ears to listen to the boy's breaths. His breaths and his heartbeat are calm. Only seconds and the game will end, the boy left his hiding spot to win the game and goes to the spot that Donkey Lady was counting in. He runs happily to the spot and puts his hand on it, yelling “I won!” He happily shouted.
“Wow! You are so good at this game!” She mused, she clapped for him, and she smiles at him.
“thank you! You are good too!” He innocently replied as he laughs.
Then both of them went into the woods near the boy’s house. Donkey Lady made a fire since the atmosphere is getting cold, she magically made hot cocoa and biscuits for the boy. She never wanted to feed on empty-stomach prey. Then she hands them to the boy.
“A little snack after a long day!” She offered, and the boy took them from her, but before he eats and drink. He thanked her
“Thank you! For everything you did for me today!” The boy thanked her, not just for the snack or the hot cocoa, but for the time she spent with him. The games she played with him. She made him realize that he isn’t ignored or neglected by the people.
“You are welcome, you are a very precious boy!” She replied, smiling at him.
After moments, the boy felt sleepy. But he didn’t ask to go to his home, instead, he slept near the donkey lady, she sips her tea giving him the time to fully sleep so that she can snuff his life without him knowing or feeling it. 10 minutes passed by, and she still sips her tea. After drinking all the tea, her hands glows dark purple energy, she swiftly passed them near the boy's head. And they absorbed his life energy away. Making him die in the process, now, she beard her sharp fangs and started to eat his flesh hungrily. Blood splattered on her face, her dress, and her hair. She kept munching her food. At least he died happily, and someone played with him before he fade to black.
She didn’t eat his head, she only ate his abdomen, hands, and heart. She left the rest for his father to see. So, If he was blessed to have another child, he would care for it and never neglect it.
The father and the mother of the boy are terrified and worried sick because their child didn’t return home, They kept searching for him and searching. Until they saw his body disfigured and eaten, and his head hung on a branch of a tree, The mother fainted after she saw this and the father kept crying, cursing himself, and regretted unloving him and neglecting him.
A lesson learned painfully for those poor parents. A reminder never leave your children with a stranger.
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Hadi Aepel is shepherding the sheep near the camp. A wooden staff in hand, and a leather water canteen hung on his abdomen. He is aware of the beasts that feast on sheep, and lambs. He can defend his sheep. But, It has been 3 days and no wolf, or a wild dog, or a beast attacked his sheeps' pack, It is strange. It made him realize there is something wrong. But he can’t quite put his finger on it, much like the case with Mr. Peitz! Speak of the devil, Mr. Peitz came to greet him.
“Hello, Hadi!” Mr. Peitz greeted, smiling at him.
“Hello Mr. Peitz” Hadi greeted back, Hadi’s face is normal, his face didn’t look surprised or happy, but he slowly smiles at Mr. Peitz.
“Are you ready? tonight is your turn to tell a story near the campfire!” Mr. Peitz asked,
“Hehe, I am ready,” Hadi replied, happily,
“Okay then! see you tonight! near the campfire,” Mr. Peitz reminded,
That was strange! Hadi felt that voice again, Hadi closes his eyes to focus on the voice inside him, and he concentrates to hear it. The voice only told two things, Stay away from Mr. Peitz. Again, he never knew why, he trusts his instincts and intuition. They never failed him, and he won’t fail them in return. But, there is this curiosity. When someone wants to know why.
But he shoved this feeling in the back of his mind for the billionth time. He decided that time will tell, he doesn’t wanna take the matter into his hand. As the saying goes you can’t just rip someone's heart to know what they are thinking.
Night falls at the camp and everyone started to prepare their things before they sleep, Hadi and his friends prepared the sleeping bags. Hadi prepared the campfire for warmth and comfort. He enjoys the campfire and the night in the desert. Desert is known for its dangers and uncertainty, Her uncontrollable shifting mood. Her shifting temperature, Her illusions, Her mischievous nature. And finally, Her mirage.
Hadi sighs in relief. As he looks at the warm campfire. He thinks of the story that he is going to tell, he has a few stories. One of them was told by his father when he was a young boy, The story of “Abu fanous”, An evil Djinn who lives in the desert, appears as a ball of shiny light, and travels alone in the desert at night. His favourite hobby is to make people follow him and get lost, then die in the deepest and dark depths of the desert.
Abu fanous is feard among the travelers in the desert, He can easily sway the people from their thinking and main destinations.
His father, Alii Aepel warned him not to follow anything he deems paranormal, Or eerie, He should always be aware and cautious.
“Fathers know best,” he muttered to himself,
Now, his friends gather at the campfire to listen to Hadi’s story. He sighed once again. He still isn’t sure what story he will tell. But he let his intuition be the guide, he sighed once more.
His friends waiting for him they can’t wait for him to hear the story.
“Once there was a rose,” he began, telling the story. “The rose resembles beauty and innocence” he continued
All his friends seem interested in the tale he is telling, they stopped the side-talking to hear him well,
“but that rose belongs to a creature, this creature believed to be a hybrid of a human and something else,” He added,
“The creature fell in love with a daughter of a princess, the princess feared for her daughter and sent the assassins after the creature,” He continued, he stopped for a few moments to catch his breath.
“The assassin was sent to kill the creature, but the creature was not weak so he defend himself, eating the assassin that princess sent to kill the creature,” Hadi continued telling the story,
All his friend seems more interested, Till the point, they told him to continue excitedly. He nodded the continue.
“After the creature killed the assassin ruthlessly, one of his beloved roses turns black, meaning, he did a dark deed, killing a person. But that was to defend himself from the assassin!” Hadi told, then he look at their faces to see their expressions.
“That is a quite story!” Mr. Peitz replied,
“Yeah! It is!” Sam muttered, one of Hadi’s friends.
“But! It is awesome!” Nadeem smirked, one of Hadi’s friends too.
“Guys! Let me finish!” Hadi chimed, they nodded and let him continue telling the story.
“Once the maiden he loves knew about this, she didn’t hate him, or she is scared of him, In all likelihood, she loved him and kissed the true love kiss, which makes the black rose turns to its original colour!” He continued telling the story. And, telling the end too.
All of the are happy listening to a beautiful story, let alone a tale with a happy ending! It is everyone’s favourite story.
“And some people say villains don’t get a happy ending” Nadeem joked,
“They do, Nadeem, they do” Mr. Peitz repeated,
“This is such a beautiful and wholesome story!” Sam said,
“Alright friends, Good night!” Hadi muttered, then he fixed his sleep bag to sleep.
All his friends followed suit to sleep, everyone except for Mr. Peitz, he developed a habit to stay up until dawn.
Well, Well! It seems that you reached the end of this chapter! Thank you, everyone! Thank you for liking my chapters, Commenting! And mostly! Thank you for encouraging me! 💓💓💕✨❤️😘😘💋💋💋
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skeletal sward cats (GhostPipes): a sward concept
more dark forest worldbuilding go brrr!
I imagine the stories of the first dark forest cats would come from some of the skeletal Sward cats being Norwegian forest cats, so very, very big. These cats are likely from very early days before the tribe of rushing water, or even a group that existed not long before it. The group that started all clans, if you will. 
But yeah, I like the idea of there being cats that are barely cats anymore, all memories and thoughts almost completely wiped from them, with only a taste for blood left. They wander the sward, maybe even In groups, and keep their distance until they see a reason to prey on cats lost in the sward. Maybe that’s why most of our characters ever spawn in the sward: all the ones that do are picked off by skeletal cats. 
Instead of the permanent wounds that the dark forest cats we know and love have, these cats have rotted away: not forgotten, as they are remembered in legends and myths, or even condemned by starclans themselves to forever haunt the sward as they lose all sense of reality, all feelings and emotions except a bloodlust for anyone they set their teeth on.  they appear as giant creatures, held together with exposed flesh, bloody bones and a sunken in, furless skull with bright red eyes. Maybe tufts of fur litter their spine, casting spike-like shadows. They can’t speak well, and when they open their mouths cackles and screams come out, maybe even mimicking and taunting like a mockingjay. That’s how they got their name: Ghostpipes. (Also named after one of my favourite fungis, but shh ignore that)
@residences-of-the-darkforest @elementaldeityoffood @ambitiousauthor @indigo-flightly-falls
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