Archaic-Anathema - Four Dictionary Results.


<sub>1.) antiquated enmity; vengeance

2.) any imprecation of divine retribution

3.) something hated exclusively, noun

4.) a pedantic, ill-favored, member of DeviantART.com: ~Archaic-Anathema</sub>




***Guys, I will always take fanfiction/literature requests -- just note me.

I'll do practically anything as long as it abides by the golden rule: No Mpreg. If your request concerns an OC (original character) please provide a descrption of your character emotionally/mentally and physically, or simply a sketch and a brief depiction of his/her personality traits.

_{Anime Titles}

Case Closed (Detective Conan)
Death Note
Final Fantasy: Chocobo's Dungeon
Final Fantasy VII
Final Fantasy VII: Dirge Of Cerberus
Final Fantasy X
Final Fantasy X-2
Final Fantasy XII
Final Fantasy XII: Revenant Wings
Junjo Romantica
Kingdom Hearts
Kingdom Hearts: Chain Of Memories
Kingdom Hearts II
Loveless
Neon Genisis Evangelion


_{Other Titles}

Invader Zim
Making Fiends
Manhunt 2
No More Heroes
Quarantine
Right At Your Door
WristCutters: A Lovestory
Zelda: A Link To The Past
Zelda: Majora's Mask
Zelda: Minish Cap
Zelda: Ocarina Of Time



_{My DA Family}

Twin Sister =Catlover980

Maid ~xxWalls-Of-Jerichoxx

Pet ~Coma--x--White



<sub>O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning,
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still:
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The shop has anchor'd safe and sound, it's voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.</sub>

-- O Captain! my Captain! by Walt Whitman. 1865.