Perfect ImperfectionsThis world is a NIGHTMAREPerfect Imperfections4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
To search for perfection
in an imperfect world is
nothing but mere MADNESS
in the eternity, where
No one fights against time
Who wants a life...
without any madness in it?
At least the world is...
keep fighting for perfection
Because in the end it'll worth something
you have never imagined before
HeroesHeroes5 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“You are heroes!” ~Lady_Ianite
Heroes, they were called. The heroes of Mianite. But what really makes a hero?
One was the disciple of good, loyal to his god since the beginning. He remained ever so loyal when he kept getting #Rekt during the devil’s siege. It seemed like his god abandoned him when he needed him the most, but he never gave up faith despite how many times he scream and yell at the sky. Or at his ruined base. His god awarded his patience.
One was also the follower of light, standing beside her boyfriend when their homes were under siege. She was as loyal as her companion and kept the boys in check and made sure they didn’t destroy each other too much. The two followers of light strengthened their relationship throughout the war, a feat that that not many can accomplish.
One was the complete opposite of the spectrum, the disciple of evil, the friend-turned-sworn enemy. He was also loyal to his god despite the number of times he failed the one
The TheatreSo many emotions together! So many smells! So many colours!The Theatre1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Can you feel it? Can you feel the skirt of the brunette next to you constantly brushing against your leg as she practically shudders with laughter-
Can you smell the perfume? Ah yes, that sweet fragrance that barely stands out among so many others. Yes, that one, the one of the elderly woman that just walked past, irritated, clearly not coming back to see the rest of the show, her silver hair shining in the dim lights…
The laughing lady, now so amused- oh she has so many worries, so many things to do! Working at the factory, day and night, night and day- but now! Now the posh man with the green jacket, trying to show his interest in her… he can’t even remember how long it’s been since his wife died, that bitter woman. He is so lonely, so lonely.
But not here.
Oh and- do I smell alcohol?
That poor sod, his girl left him for a richer man- and one day, one day, she’ll find out that a good he
Adoption dayToday was adoption day so miss sunny had all the children come out side to get adopted by their new mommy and daddy. What kind of creature adopts you?Adoption day6 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Who adopts you
1) single mom/dad
2) mom with a boyfriend
3) dad/ with girlfriend
Or switch I get adopted
Verborgene WeltDas Mädchen sitzt auf der Parkbank und wartet, regungslos und stumm, ganz am Rand der Sitzfläche und mit den Händen unter den Beinen, als wäre ihr kalt. Feuerrotes Haar tanzt um ihr Gesicht; immer in Bewegung, immer wirr. Sie wartet. Sie wartet auf jemanden, der stehen bleibt und für einen Augenblick gen Himmel blickt.Verborgene Welt6 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Um sie herum fallen die Blätter und enthüllen eine verborgene Welt aus reinem Licht; ein Königreich der Träume, sichtbar nur für einen Augenblick. Es liegt auf der Unterseite der fallenden Blätter, wenn die Sonne sie streift, vorbeigetragen vom Oktoberwind – einen Moment lang ganz nah und im nächsten schon fort.
Wenn das Blatt den Boden berührt, ist diese strahlende Unterseite unsichtbar; die Oberseite ist goldgelb oder rot wie ein Rubin – hübsch, sagen die Leute, doch die wahre Schönheit bleibt ihren Blicken verborgen. Die Unterseite des gefallenen Blattes wird auf dem Boden zertreten
The Light Keeper Cid Ivers was the kind of man who didn’t care much for dwelling on the past, despite how haunting his surroundings were. His wife had left him a widower before the island became a refuse fishing port, but it was all just a passing thought. No more significant than the fact that a boy named Bjorn used to eat chalk when Cid was still being taught histories he would never remember.The Light Keeper2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Back in those fair days, when she had graced his presence and melted the crust from his beard, there had been vessels to watch and warn. But these days he found himself standing on the lighthouse’s balcony, gazing into an empty sea. The fishermen were the only ones sailing into port nowadays, and they never waded back in after dark. He wondered what use the pier company had to keep him in lodging at the old cape nightlight. Cid supposed it was all about pity.
On one particular day, as on so ma
SacrificeA lonely cry broke through the darkness. I looked up in surprise, because I thought I was the only one in this room.Sacrifice2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Who's there?" I called out.
The shadows seemed to warp and take shape, eventually forming themselves into the shape of a little girl.
Puzzled, I walked towards her. "Who are you? Why are you crying?"
The tousled, crying child continued to shake. "Hello...?" I said hesitantly.
"Why did you leave me behind?" A voice filled with sorrow tore out from the girl's wrinkled up mouth. "Why did you leave me behind?"
"What are you even talking about? I don't know you-"
"You do." Despite the fact that she was still crying, the sad tones of her voice changed into bitter, mocking ones. "Have you forgotten your own face?" In a whiplash-quick movement, her head tilted up at me and I realized that she
"Are you enjoying yourself?" She spat at me, jabbing an accusatory finger in my direction. "You sacrificed me for the sake of getting stronger, and right after that y
An Outcast's Taleiolet never meant to bring harm to anyone. Why would she? She was just an ordinary girl in college trying to get by, right? But there was something different about her, something that caused other kids to avoid the girl. The voices in her head that guided her throughout her life told her it was a bad idea, but she decided to let the place know of her condition. All hell broke looseAn Outcast's Tale1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Schizophrenia, A thing that drove people to madness and violence due to some hallucination, always to be feared, always to be violent, always to be looked down on. Most would try and get rid of them as soon as possible, try and live a normal life. But she knew better. She believed that the voices could be turned into something helpful, her auditory hallucinations helping her throughout her life, rather than harming her and telling her to kill people. She wanted people to know that it could be used for something good, but…
She became an outcast for her ideas, people avoiding her, people fearing her, peo
The Three DoorsThe man awoke to a blinding light, scourging his eyes until the man was forced to keep them closed for a substantial amount of time. His mind raced, wondering where he was that there would be such a potent light. A police station maybe? He didn’t hear any muttering or voices. In fact, there was no sound at all. The man regained strength in his eyes and opened them once more, prepared for the blinding light. He squinted, waiting for the light to subside, and it did, slowly. He tried his best to search his surrounding, but he could not make out much. Then, towards the back, appeared the silhouette of a man.The Three Doors2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Who are you?” asked the squinting man, commonly referred to as Thomas. It took a few seconds for the stranger to reply.
“It matters not who I am, but what stands behind me,” the stranger replied, referencing to three ominous doors behind him. Thomas rose from his bed, placing his blanked on top of his pillow. He walked carefully towards the stranger, try
Kings and Beggars BFP November Prompt The King may not be all riches and snobbery.Kings and Beggars BFP November Prompt5 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I'm sorry my Duke, but I just need to take out another loan."
Woosh goes the Duke's breath. "What now for my King?"
"My daughter is getting married. I need to clothe my daughter wonderfully so she seems well off. The dowry we should get should be enough to pay off my debts."
"Fine my King. I shall loan you this. But your other Dukes are getting itchy for their money back."
"I know my Duke. But I tell you, I shall have your money. Thank-you for your generosity my Duke."
The King may just as well be the beggar. As illustrated above. And the beggar may as well be the King.
The beggar sits atop his makeshift throne of dirty rags, broken metals, and rotten foods.
His peons scurry to and fro beneath him.
::Anti bullying week: TF2 ficklet - To be trustedThere's... something strange with this boy.::Anti bullying week: TF2 ficklet - To be trusted5 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
He's quite different from the others I've been working with. He does not speak loud, or does not actually even speaks at all. You barely have to extract the words from his throat and when he's with all of us he's just standing there, saying nothing, waiting for us to pay attention to him or not. And it's not hard tell he prefers when we do not. I can get that he's not really in found of groups, hell if sniper and medic are, but it's not the same. It's mostly like he's scared of us. Again something that' s quite easy so see. When you try to talk to him, he almost never raise his eyes, which is kinda disturbing, and his sentences are always short. I've managed to had a chat or two with him and... Well he's quite sympathetic and does not looks as the shy type at all. But again, you have to do the first step. I've tried to ask him why he was acting like that and even to reassure him about all the other guys from the team and even about me but eve
Era uma vezEra uma vez. Era pois já não é, e uma vez pois foi um momento singular. Nesse momento singular, um homem, do gênero humano, que surgiu desse imperativo de que surgisse, dessa força inexorável que guiou tudo que havia até então até ele. Ele pensou em sua origem e a chamou de Deus.Era uma vez5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
E Deus deu-lhe olhos. Ele viu um mundo muito maior que ele mesmo e percebeu o tamanho de sua insignificância, olhou ao redor e percebeu que era só. Deus deu-lhe consciência. Ele viu a centelha da criação em todas as coisas e percebeu como Deus era grande, ele viu a beleza. Deus deu-lhe ouvidos. Ele ouviu o mundo e o achou vazio, ouviu a si mesmo e achou-se mágico. Deus deu-lhe tato e olfato. Ele sentiu frio, calor, cheiros bons e outros nem tanto.
Então, como se fosse de sua natureza, para bem ou para mal, transformar o singular em plural, o único em corriqueiro, já não era um, mas mais e mais ainda. Como se fosse se
RUMINATION #9: OUR GARDEN, (1/4)Earp woke up to see Rupert sitting on the large root of a very tall tree, eyes scanningRUMINATION #9: OUR GARDEN, (1/4)8 hours ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
the paper back novel from left to right. Earp recognized it was from Saturn and saw
it sort of as an anacharism.There were startlingly few printing presses’ available on only
a handful of moons “You might want to read this, Croak,” he said turning the page, the middle
aged frog entered Earp’s line of view with bandages across his chest, leaning beside Rupert’s
dangling legs to strike a match, with a throaty “It’s a fluff book,” he kindled his pipe
“Rupe, not something I’d read,” lungs inhaling more pollutants.
“Well, yah, it is on the surface,” Rupert’s eyes narrowed “Otherwise it wouldn’t
be entertaining,” flipping back a page to re-scan it. “But underneath, it asks all
these questions about identity n’stuff.” remaining enthralled despite his comment
“The perspectives change
It's the End of the World as We Know It((Jasper POV))It's the End of the World as We Know It7 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
The sun is hanging low in the sky, barely hovering above the horizon, and the brisk autumn winds sweep through the streets, sending shivers through my body and reminding me that winter is rapidly approaching. Pulling my jacket closer, I continue making my way through the roads of the village. I have no destination in mind, but after a bit of wandering, I find myself standing on the walls of the harbor, staring down at the dark churning water below.
I could jump. I'm a strong swimmer, and the shock of the ice-cold water would at least be something recognizable in this unfamiliar town full of brass and gears. When I was given the opportunity for a fresh start, this isn't exactly what I had in mind. At worst, I expected another crowded, rushed city. At best, I hoped for something similar to Nacrene; small town, friendly residents, plenty on nature. And Steam seems like it could have been all that at one point. What I was not expecting was all the fighting and fire that goes
PounderI run. My breath clings desperately to my lungs. There is an indecisive air in my head, like I’ve been here before. I wish only to leave the dark, dank, grey room behind. It seems to just go on and on. My bare feet slap against the hard, cold concrete that is the bane of my skin’s existence. I am breathing heavily and painfully, like a jab to my side, and a thick muscle bunches in my diaphragm and lungs. I have a slight difficulty in the pattern of my breath, but the pattern of my feet on the ground have rhythm. The doorway springs light throughout, splaying white into my eyes and on the floor. I reach it, and emerge fumbling and stumbling sightlessly into freedom’s bare arms. The light in my sensitive eyes clears, leaving me staring at a wall.Pounder14 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
The wall separates into two hallways on either side of me. Both stretch as far as I can see, even with my observative eyes. I panic. Which hallway to take? They are identical, both with vertical black and white stripes adorning
A WalkThe dream-like, baby blue skies and the vast, unending fields made my lonesome stroll less dreary. And as I strolled my mind wandered aimlessly between the happenings of life and the meaning of the stars. Yet, even in my thoughtful haze something struck me as so awe inspiringly beautiful that I froze in my tracks. A solitary rose bloomed upon a bush, but this was no ordinary rose. It was the most beautiful, reddest, most fragrant, most perfectly shaped rose known to God and Man. A rose so unarguably flawless that it must've been Mother Nature's finest and most prized creation. Knowing that this was a once in a trillion lifetimes opportunity I decide I must have it for myself. Gingerly, as one would approach a shrine to one's God or Goddess, I grip the rose around its stem. But alas! I retreat my hand for it has been pricked by the rose's inevitable thorn! What a dastardly thing to hide beneath such lush and vibrant petals! Then, to my great horror, a single petal falls from the rose anA Walk19 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
The man at the bus stopStep, step, step. The sound of my dragging feet against the wet cement doesn't sound real to me. I pace back and forth. The icy cold rain is crashing into my skin, seeping into my flesh, chilling me more than it should. The clouds in the sky form a roof over the Earth, casting the Earth in shadow. The street lights battle against the shadows, attempting to blanket the street in a sickly yellow glow. Their attempts are all in vain. There's a thin layer of mist that obscures the rest of the damp street from me.The man at the bus stop5 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
The froth seeps from my icy lips and melts into the inky night. I continue pacing, my footsteps heavy against the drenched cement. I close my eyes, water flicking off my lashes, and continue pacing. My legs grow weary. I take a seat on the generic, metal chair that is provided at every bus stop. Immediately after I sit down, I regret my decision. The seat is an ice cube, chilling me down to my bones. I jump forcefully up, my feet crashing into a murky puddle, sending water flying
a gentle way to break usThe grass was slowly dying due to the winter's hands, stroking over it, letting it sway with every cold breath, every now and then. The forest that surrounded the graveyard was quiet, all consumed by the coldness, slowly creeping through the branches, patiently waiting for the last leaves to fall, like sinful angels from the sky. The weather was all harsh and cold on this day and my foot stepped on frozen ground. What an ironic thought it was, that he didn't die at the break of winter, like all things, but in high summer, when everything's supposed to be alive. That didn't stop him from dying and now what was left of him were some remains, bones and a cold gravestone towering against the grey sky. When I die don't cry, look at the stars and say goodbye was engraved into it, no name, no dates. I said goodbye several times but never did it work. Never did the word bear the pain of an ending, but as well the hope for a new beginning. Never did it bring the promise of summer througha gentle way to break us6 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Adventure Time of Mushroom Kind Forests of Spessart were always thick and endless. Rich on hills and secret alleys, a trees of hundreds years old and flowers blossoming with a feeling and smell of disturbed, yet inviting calm of a nature voids. Visitors here had a strange shivers on their backs, if alone not in pack, it became even more apparent. So untouched by a world of man, in all times, they seemed like a part of something that ages, but doesn’t know a ticking of clock. A Mountain like picks of a horizont lands, with fields of lonely farms in a distance. So much territory they covered that, if at one part of it was a mist, the other one was drowning in beams of a clearful warmness of sun. It was, by all occasions, a weird place. It never had fables about dragons, or trolls and goblins and fairies waiting to lure travelers away into horrific details of a folk tales. Some would enter it, to never be heard again. But maybe just to come from the other side of it, away from the way of life that leftAdventure Time of Mushroom Kind1 week ago in Short Stories More Like This
Instunctive AngerBollertent was once my kind of town. Small, quiet and good folk, but not until the years passed and the neighboring cities rapidly expanded to Bolertent. Alot of the residents were not pleased. They had little to no power about it. Most of them were old and retired. I was still young and enjoyed the elderly company. The city folk, not so much.Instunctive Anger1 week ago in Short Stories More Like This
Daunting signs were easily seen as they came in. Music being played with ear piercing volume and crude lyrics about substance abuse. Young kids revving their cars to intimidate and show off. Leaving marks on the streets and foul odors in the air. Some of us encouraged the parents to take more responsibility to the children. We made some progress, but most of the kids were moved out and on their own. We tried the police and it secured the order almost immediately, but one by one. We passed off.
Three years and all the once quiet people who rocked in their chairs, greeted each other kindly, hosted barbecues for fun and invited the entire town for m
A Discourse on DiscordSome of you ponies may be wondering why Discord, a spirit of disagreement and disharmony, has been given a second chance. Why would Princess Celestia see Discord as being used for good, worthy of being reformed? What purpose does disagreement and disharmony serve? I mean should there not be peace? Should there not be harmony? What most ponies fail to realize is that not all peace is good. There is peace with being content and peace in being complacent. Peace that is found in being complacent is not a good thing. It is not being content but just accepting things are because they have always been that way. What if something has always been a way but it was not good? Should we be complacent with something that is not good? I would think that my little ponies would say no to something like that. It is through chaos that shows us what is true and what it not.A Discourse on Discord4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
How do you think new discoveries are made? It is either