THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK TWO -- Approaching Anoitos' temple again, you opened the door, turning as you stepped inside to close it again. The door closing with a satisfying clunk, you spun back around, intending to just quickly bow your head and grab your beads without much circumstance. You were not expecting to see a man, mid-way through stuffing his face with the plate of offerings you had brought, at the altar, his eyes blown wide with panic and focused on you. You stared back at him. "I- you- what are you doing? Who are you? How-?" You turned halfway back to the door, intending to run for one of the guards. "Wait!" The man's voice drew your attention back to him, just in time to see his appearance shift slightly - like there was something behind the mirage of his skin. For a moment - the man was gone, and in his place, a living replica of the hulking gold warrior depicted in the statue took his place. Your hand dropped from the handle of the door, staring up at the god before you. Out of all the times for your prayers to be answered... and of all ways, like this... "See?" He said, shrinking back to the man you had seen before, the boyish smile you knew so well still on his face. "It's just me!" Standing before you, with crumbs of bread on his face, was Anoitos, somehow - impossibly - in the flesh.

24 new emails looked back at you from the screen. You could feel the headache setting in, but you opened your email anyway, looking through the new messages. Two from your statistics professor, about a new assignment, another one from the RA in the dorm building, one from the admissions office, about your application to the study abroad program, one from your American history professor- Hold the phone. You rapidly clicked on the email from the admissions office, scanning through the paragraphs. Reviewing your application to the program... taking into account your grades and your major... looking at schools in the area... pleased to say we can accept you into the program. Accepted. Part of you had forgotten that you had applied in the first place; it had been months ago back at the end of last semester, and then you had gone home for the summer and put it behind you. But being back at school had brought it to the forefront of your mind again. This was great. You had needed some good news today. Turning up the music, you danced out of your desk chair and jumped around the room a little, excited. You were going to Mexico for a semester. You could already picture it now - warm weather, good food, and firsthand experience speaking Spanish for at least six months, maybe more. Not to mention all the adventures you could have in a foreign country. This would be something you would remember for years, and just thinking about it made your day better.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK ONE --- Your eyes trailed up to the balcony, taking stock of the man who was perched there, hands resting on the railing as he peered down at the crowd that had just entered the room. Broad shoulders were only accentuated by plated armor, polished to a bronze sheen. You had seen this man before, during military processions and that sort of thing. The prison warden, and one of the caesar's previous champions. Samuel. The warden of the prison underneath the colosseum.

"I'll read it out for you." Anne said, handing the cigarette back to you. "Wanted; for breaking and entering and robbery. Unknown bandit seen leaping from a window of a bank in Kempton, may be walking with a limp from the fall. Suspected to be about 5'8" and stocky build. Should any leads arise please contact local authorities." --- You hadn't even seen him there, obscured in the darkness of night - and it was obvious that he hadn't been expecting anyone to come out back. He startled, stumbling away from where he had been leaning, and your heart leapt into your throat, surprised in the worst way possible. So surprised, that you threw the bag of vegetable scraps at him as a form of self defense. The bag bounced harmlessly against the man's chest and landed on the ground. Your eyes darted to it first, but then up to the man you had thrown it at - taking in his features from the light streaming out of the still-open door. He wasn't too tall, but he had the build of someone who had known a farm life before - broad shoulders and muscle made for work, not show. His clothes were practical, and he carried a pack strapped to his back. It was his face that was the most interesting though - he couldn't have been much older than you, and he looked kind, for lack of a better word. Open, almost.

Playing in a volleyball team with only boys in it can be stressful. You feel sometimes out of your place. BUT playing in a volleyball team with only boys has some pluses with it... like the middle blocker of the team was a big plus. Ranboo X OC

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 2 --- Versailles (proper noun). The argument over the etymology of Versailles tends to privilege the Latin word 'versare', meaning "to keep turning, turn over and over", an expression used in medieval times for plowed lands, cleared lands (lands that had been repeatedly "turned over"). --- He wasn't like any endermen you had seen before - probably because he wasn't fully an enderman. He was tall like an enderman, but that was where the similarity ended. He was split down the middle - half of his skin the same inky black as the twins, the other half a radiant white. His eyes didn't match either - one blood red and the other emerald green. His hair fell in soft waves, almost obscuring his eyes at times, and he kept his head tilted down, his sharp jawline on display. He seemed timid, but that might have just been the situation - anyone behind bars would likely hang their head.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 1 --- Tacenda; pl (plural only): Things that are not to be spoken about or made public. Things that are best left unsaid. --- He was unlike anyone else you had seen before. There was a certain confidence about him that drew everyone's eye. His hair was tied back into a messy plait, but it was the color that was the most striking, a bright pink that contrasted the dark red and black of his robes. His face was mostly obscured by the mask of his people, but you could just make out the shape of his jaw and a flash of sharp teeth when he smiled. He was dangerous - but he was magnetic.

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 an animator from florida accidentally befriends a boy named tubbo through among us, and he introduces her to the world of minecraft youtube. ➪ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 • 𝐟 𝐨𝐜 (𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑) social media stuff sometimes (a lot of the time) (please keep in mind that this is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only, and i mean no disrespect to anyone in this story!! it's just meant to be a fun wholesome little thing :) if any cc is uncomfortable with this then it will be deleted immediately. i also dont have twitter so im sorry if some of the names or formatting are wrong agghsn) dream dont read this like its not unwholesome content or anything but sometimes its better to Don't update: dude idk anymore this is so cringe read at your own risk. i will probably never finish it, lost motivation, and looking back at it makes me shudder lmao i really really dont like it. i dont know how to write real stories with real plots and i genuinely dont know whats going on in this book </3 im only keeping it up because the numbers are damn impressive. thank you to all who have read, and you're free to read it if youre new, but i wouldnt recommend it if you dont like cheesy cringe shit without much of a plot :)

i've spent all of the love i saved, we were always a losing game. 𝙄𝙉 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙃 the boy king falls in love with the pauper, but the two star-crossed lovers are driven apart by the horrors of war OR! reverie loves dream too much to let him go, even when power makes him lose himself c!dream x fem!oc dream smp , mcyt savsnothere - 2021

❝𝘗𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩.❞ Book One of The Lost Souls Series ---------------------------- George isn't tempted by finding his soulmate. To him, it's just another ridiculous plot to get him killed. His life is hard enough, running from his hunter alone and inexperienced. You don't make many friends when you block everyone out. So when an outgoing dirty blonde gives him butterflies, George doesn't know what to do. There's something different about him: he's perfect. A little too perfect. But there's no truth here, there's only Perception. ---------------------------- Completed ✔️ No smut ✔️ Trigger warnings: Blood, violence, mentions of death, mild gore