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About Deviant Member Celtic-LilyFemale/United Kingdom Recent Activity
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Dragonfly birthday card by Celtic-Lily
Dragonfly birthday card
Birthday card for mum, I'm quite proud of it ^^ It looks like it was supposed to and I managed to colour it without ruining it! And it has shiny gold bits!! :D 
Sometimes I think it must be so much easier if people don't like you cos at least then you wouldn't have people attaching themselves to you like they're suddenly your best friend just cos you were nice and tried to help them with something. And you wouldn't have them demanding attention and time you can't afford to give them for the sake of your own mental health, or expecting you to take on extra responsibilities that you JUST CAN'T COPE WITH and refusing to take no for an answer and I really wish they'd all go away and leave me alone and stop demanding so much of me but there's nothing I can do to get rid of them without hurting them. I can't deal with having this many people all trying to lay claim to my time, I already have all the close friends that I want and these people have no right to try and force themselves into that circle cos there's a limit to the number of people I can dedicate my time and energy to and that limit's already reached and I. CANNOT. GIVE. ANY. MORE.
And loud housemates who bring random men back to your house are a nightmare and I'd quite like to stab all her boyfriends if they can even be called that for messing up my space and my sleep and any sense of security I manage to gain in this house.

Sorry for the rant journal. But I swear I'm going to lose my mind if I don't write it out somewhere.
More doodles... by Celtic-Lily
More doodles...
Procrastination of uni work seems to be my main reason for putting things online >.> XD 
I worked out how to draw Elenor fairly consistently/ accurately (but only from one angle XD I now have many many scribbles of her at a 45 degree angle) Also sort of how to draw another of my characters, Denna, from the side (top right).
Top left is the most accurate Elenor I've drawn yet even though it's scribbly ^^ Why do things always turn out better when they're on the margin of my uni work and have either a hole punch or writing through them...? -.-
Not entirely sure what her expression in bottom left is meant to be... :P
What do they make of it all, I wonder? The noise, the chaos, the grey-faced tear-stained creatures running above and trampling their intricate civilisations to mud. Do they accept their fate with dignity, knowing their sacrifice is for the greater good?
No, of course not.
But they haven’t a choice, have they? They just scurry about, minding their own business, then suddenly BANG. Dead. Gone. Everything they ever thought or knew or wondered, instantly obliterated. Poor things.
That said though, maybe they do have some peace with it. More than we do, anyway. Because I’ve never seen one looking concerned about its fate. Never seen one staring into nothing, shaking and crying and falling apart because the blind terror has burned too far into its soul and there’s nothing left any more.
We could learn a lot from ants, I suspect, if only we could see into their minds.

And there I go again. Rambling. They tease me, the lads do- when they have they energy that is. I don’t mind. Gives them a bit of a laugh, brightens the day a moment or two. They call me Dreamy Davey, ‘cause apparently I spend more time staring into space than I do breathing. Probably an exaggeration, that. But I guess it’s probably not too far off the truth. After all, when the screams are echoing above and the world is hidden in bullets and muck and pain, what else is there to hold on to but dreams?

You know, I’m not sure why I’m writing this. I know you won’t receive it. Mainly because I’m not planning to send it. They’d only censor it, anyway. But it’s nice to write it, I suppose, like you’re here listening to me rattle on. I can see your smile now, soft and patient and gentle, not like the dull-eyed grimaces you get here. So if you don’t mind lending me your imaginary ear a little longer, Cathy, it’s much appreciated. I only wish you could know how much. You’ll have to excuse my handwriting though. Hands are shaking. Can’t stop them. It doesn’t ever stop. I can see that look in your eye, now. Disapproval. You think I should be resting, don’t you? And you’d be right of course. But I can’t sleep Cathy, not with his eyes staring at me. Sky blue, piercing, pinning me right through the chest. Do you think the ants have found them yet? Reclaimed some sort of justice for themselves, and him left with just black sockets staring ou- No, no, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. You always said I shouldn’t let my imagination run away with me so much, Cathy. Oh, Lord, it won’t leave me now, that image. Just staring, staring, empty- How could he, Cathy? How could it have been him? Oh God, he’s dead and just left to rot up there on the battlefield and there’s nothing I can do. We promised to stick together, and he’s gone and left me in this hell and I couldn’t save him, I tried but I couldn’t Cathy, there was too much blood and he was too heavy and I had to leave him. I had to. I- had to.

Do you reckon he’s in Heaven now, already? If there’s even a place in heaven for us, that is. “Thou shalt not kill,” that’s what the bible says. But we’re not bad men, we don’t have a choice. I can’t believe Sam could ever be deemed evil. Does God understand, do you think? Does he care? We’ve been through enough suffering here to pacify a thousand Devils, surely. The Lord is just, that’s what we learned in Church. Well, I can’t see how there’s anything just about this war, but there must be something better on the other side for us, mustn’t there? So he’s probably up there now, Sam, probably watching down and telling me to pull myself together. Telling me I need my beauty sleep. Still, I’m not going to listen. Pig- headed, I know, but his face won’t leave me, like he’s haunting me, and who am I to deprive his memory of company on its first night under Death’s shroud? So I think I’ll just sit up a little longer, Cathy, if you don’t mind. It’s not like a good night’s sleep is going to make me any less likely to die, not here.
It’s funny, you go through all that training, all that learning to be a soldier, but in the end it’s not down to skill. It’s luck, pure luck, or fate perhaps. And I hope you’ll forgive me for thinking like this, Cath- and I’m glad you won’t see this, I know it’d upset you- but sometimes I can’t help but wonder if the good luck is on the side of the living, or the dead. The dead, they don’t have to cope any more. Don’t have to watch their comrades blown to pieces in front of them, don’t have to sit with some poor young lad newly arrived and watch the stories of hope and glory die in his eyes as he realises the truth. Don’t have to huddle in the cold and mud, never knowing if they’re going to see the next sunset.

You know I love you, don’t you? I hope you do. I hope I’ve done enough to show you that, so you’ll always know it, and if I don’t come home… well. I’ll be with you Cath, in some way. Memory, or spirit, or something, I’ll still be there for you and you’ll still mean all the world to me. You keep me strong, you know? I have to live, have to get through each of these days of hell so I can come home to you again. And if I do- when I do- please, forgive me. Forgive me if I cry, if I tremble with the burden of these memories, if I need your help to hold me together. I’ll help you, too, as best I can, in any way I’m able. We’ll stand strong, together, wont we Cathy? We’ll make it, we’ll both make it, we’ll live long and happy and glorious together some day. So for now, I suppose I can only do my best to live up to the ants’ example and endure whatever fate throws at me. We’ll have our nest eventually Cath. In this life, or the next.

Just please, don’t forget me.
A short WW1 dramatic monologue-y type thing. I think it could use some more editing, but I'm happy enough with it for now :)
(Title changed on advice from Jottify ^^ Also corrected the genre cos it looks like I clicked "horror" instead of "historical". Though I guess WW1 was pretty horrific...)
Home alone. It wasn't a situation that particularly bothered Joan, despite the darkness of the other rooms and the creaks from distant corners of the house. She knew she was the only one in, and there was no such thing as ghosts. Not even on Halloween. In fact, especially on Halloween. What self-respecting ghost would come creeping on the one night of the year when no-one would take it seriously? And so, Joan sat in her room typing away at her computer, untroubled by thoughts of spectres and ghouls.
A thudding sound echoed up from downstairs. Slow, evenly-spaced bangs, like something falling repeatedly against her front door. She frowned. Hadn't she put up a sign saying “no trick-or-treating”? Deciding to ignore it, she continued with her work. Thud. Thud. Thud. After ten minutes, during which it continued without a break and kept interrupting her train of thought, she pushed herself away from the desk with a huff, and stamped downstairs to confront whatever irritating child had taken it upon itself to disturb her. Her footsteps clacked against the wooden floorboards of the hallway. Now she could hear something else, too. A dull moaning sound, weaving between each bang, and scratching, like nails being dragged down wood. As though an arm was being dropped against the door, and then the nails dragged down. There was a strange urgency to it.
She hesitated. Being home alone might not frighten her, but she didn't much like the idea of opening the door to a stranger at night. It sounded too heavy to be a child, too.
She bent in front of the letterbox and pulled it open with a finger.
“Yes? Who is it?”
The sounds intensified, the scratching becoming louder. She sighed.
“Henry, is that you?” There was no reply. “Look, whoever you are, I’m trying to work. Please leave me alone- agh!” She jumped back with a cry, staring at the hand that had just forced its way through the letterbox. It was pale and mottled, bloated. Reaching out towards her.
And then it fell off.
Her heart skipped a beat and she instinctively retreated a few steps, suddenly afraid. The hand lay still on the floor, underneath the stump of a wrist that was still trying to push through. She could see the white bone of the arm, tatters of discoloured flesh and rotten muscle dangling around it. A stench of decomposing flesh began to permeate the air. Swallowing hard, she forced her fear down. Impressive costume. And some sort of Halloween-themed perfume? She had to admire their dedication. But she wasn’t going to let this person make her look a fool. The hand twitched. Animatronics? Very clever.
“For goodness sake, go away! This is silly. You’re not scaring me, you know. If you don’t leave I’ll call the police and report you for trespassing.”
The hand twitched again. And suddenly scurried at her, dragged by its fingers. She gasped and backed away, but it kept coming. And it was fast, too, fast as a spider. She found herself running backwards just to keep ahead of it, until she reached the stairs and tripped. She scrambled halfway up them, still not daring to take her eyes off it. It scrabbled and writhed at the bottom, trying to reach the top of the first step. Eyes wide, heart pounding, she gripped the bannister hard with one hand and slowly pulled herself to her feet. Very- very good animatronics.
“GO AWAY!” She yelled. Gathering her courage and her rationality, she ran down the steps and jumped with all her might on the hand. It crunched beneath her weight and fell still. She stamped again and again, until it couldn’t possibly get back up. Breath still racing, she hopped back onto the stair and looked down, expecting to see twisted metal and wires.
A gory mess of squashed flesh and bits of pale bone met her gaze. Not one wire in sight. The world span and she clutched the railings, petrified with horror. A cold shudder ran through her, and with a terrified sob she turned and fled, back up the stairs, back to the warm light of her room. She slammed the door and pushed her desk against it to barricade herself in, then kicked off her shoes, leapt onto her bed and wrapped herself up safe in her blanket. She didn’t dare sleep though. She just sat there, watching the door, listening to the thing outside, expecting every moment that it would manage to force its way in. And it had another hand too, surely. More sobs shook her and she pulled the duvet tighter and fumbled for her phone. She’d call Sally, that’s what she’d do, and ask her to come over- but then it might get Sally, too- maybe she should just warn her instead.
With shaking hands, she swiped the name and held the phone to her ear. It went through to voicemail.
Ok, ok, no matter, she could try Tom.
No reply.
She tried everyone in her contacts list, increasingly hysterical, but to no avail.
And then there was a sound. Faint, but to her straining ears it was clear. A soft hshhhh of something against carpet. Out in the hallway, drawing closer. She held her breath, trying to work out where it was, how big it was. Small, it was small. And it was close, closer, closer- right at the door, right against it- there was a squelching noise, and soft scraping. Her eyes, glued to the dark crack of bottom of the door, picked out movement.
The pulped hand oozed into the room, followed by a trail of sludges of skin that slithered like slugs.
Joan screamed.
Short Halloween story. Haven't really tried writing anything creepy before. I wrote it whilst home alone at night, which possibly wasn't very sensible as I then had to go and turn on all the lights and check behind every door >.>
Not keen on the ending, but I don't have time to change it/ write more.
Ok, well. Never written one of these journal thingies before. So... Uni has been survived! And it's nearly Christmas! And I somehow seem to have drawn/written more while at Uni when I had no time than over the entire summer when I had plenty of time. Though I probably wont put it up on here, it's just scribbles and sketches.
*shrugs* Not entirely sure why I'm writing this... Just bored, I guess.


United Kingdom

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pseudozufall Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thank you so much for the watch ! ! i wish you all the best Hug 
xXI-Feel-InfiniteXx Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
thanks for the fave :rose:
keithmore2000 Featured By Owner Feb 1, 2015  Professional Traditional Artist
Thanks also for the watch. :D (Big Grin) 
keithmore2000 Featured By Owner Jan 31, 2015  Professional Traditional Artist
Thanks for the fav for my DD Celtic Lilly :) (Smile)  There are many more drawings on my DA page. Feel free to comment. 
Here's a link to my Facebook page. Feel free to like and share.…
Celtic-Lily Featured By Owner Jan 31, 2015
I'll have a look at the rest of your gallery when I have time, it's pretty amazing :D How you draw so realistically is beyond me, I'm truly impressed!
stargirl2791 Featured By Owner Jan 9, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
thank you for the fave!
SCFrankles Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you so much for faving my story ^^ :icongiveflowerplz:
Sillybilly60 Featured By Owner Jul 25, 2014   Digital Artist
Thank you kindly for the Watch Commission for renekotte - Plz accountand fav, much appreciated! Rose
Celtic-Lily Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2014
No problem, your work's beautiful! :)
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