Veiled AngelEver gotten a stupid gift for your birthday? And when you realized that the crystalline dancing cows are just too stupid to keep in your house, gifted it along to some other sap who would then send it along to the next poor soul? That's kind of how vampires handle our problems. We keep dumping them at someone else's feet. The only problem with being immortal is the cycle just keeps going until finally your problems lands right back to you again and this time, you really can't just shove it off to the next guy.
Especially when the next guy is Ryan and his BMW is parked where it's blocking your shiny new truck (that has yet to be encrusted in zombie parts) in the drive alongside what feels like four feet of snow that's been dumped on your town. I found him making breakfast for the three of us well, I rather heard. Maria sure can scream when a scary vampire has her in a headlock at three am. I busted into
LokiWe are born in pain, all of us. When that first breath of oxygen touches our lungs and it tastes of fire in our bodies, it is then we are known to be alive – screaming our indignation that this is the life we've been brought into, that this is how the world will greet us. With suffering. I was no different, whimpering softly, stunned at the sensation in my infant body, wondering why it must be that my entrance to this life hurt. It was only appropriate, then, that my birth as a god was through agony.Loki2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sometimes, when walking home after dark, I'd play this scenario through in my head. I was raised to believe I'd be attacked by men. I knew how I kept the mace in the front pocket of my purse, although I'd been too timid to take the lid off and figure out how to actually use it. I was reckless in my disregard, knowing full well what I'd been taught growing up, and then discarding it the next moments with only the outside illusion of playing by the rules. Instead, I saw in my head what
Loki - CupidIf the diner knew it was playing host to two gods, it might have spent more care in preparing our lunch. Or perhaps not. Only the Oracle knew the future and he had gone half-mad from it, finally holing himself up at the summit of K2 and refusing any visitors. The popularity of climbing Mt. Everest had a sharp decline directly after, either from climbers wanting to visit the Oracle or because everyone realized that perhaps the Oracle knew something about Everest that we didn't. Either way, I didn't know if the diner staff would care they were serving gods and I didn't know why my fellow Watchdog looked like he'd been chewing on broken glass all morning. He glared at his sandwich like it had personally offended him. Perhaps it had. Tomatoes were hard to come by and it could very well be our fault.Loki - Cupid5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"So," I ventured tentatively, "How did it go?"
"I threw him into a car."
Tim started eating after that. I
The Rules of FanfictionThe Rules of Fanfiction11 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
1. You are a writer. It does not matter that your form of writing is fanfiction – you are creating a piece of written art and therefore you are a writer. It will never be published outside of your personal webpage and DeviantArt but that isn't important. Your writing transcends the petty literary anthologies. Besides, who wants to be one of those kinds of writers? They're all just elitist snobs anyways.
2. When selecting a piece to write fanficiton about, make sure it is a well-known one. Plastering "FINAL FANTASY VII" all over the piece ensures that only dedicated fans look at it. Otherwise, you might wind up having one of those literary elitist snobs stumble across it, and we all know how they view fanfiction. Also, it ensures you an immediate fanbase. Selecting a relatively unknown work as your subject material means that only a select few will be able to read and comprehend it. &
Rules of Great LiteratureRules of Great Literature11 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
1. I am a writer. It doesn't matter what I write (unless it's genre fiction, in that case I am a deluded fool that needs to be re-educated) or even the quality of said writings; by virtue of being in the company of other writers, I am a writer. Do not dare tell me otherwise. After all, writer's egos are notoriously fragile (comes from wallowing in all that angst) and we mustn't discourage the next Great Author of our time from gaining greater perspective of human nature by hanging around with others who are equally disconnected with reality (except when writing poetry about their ex).
2. All Great Authors are published in an anthology. This is the best way to judge what is literature and what isn't – if it's in an anthology it is literature and the author is worthy to be heralded as a Great Author. Please note that the phrase Great Author should be repeated multiple times to drive the point home through all those deep thoughts writ
AnchorAn anchor had five minutes in which to reorient themselves. One.Anchor5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I stared at the heavy steel loop around my thumb. My world was a sand castle, constructed by the subconscious in a vain hope that it would stand up on such a treacherous foundation. The ring was an unfamiliar weight and the foundation of my castle started to crumble. I did not remember it. The tide was ebbing in around my mind, whispering that my carefully imagined world was wrong. That it was lies. That the 'when' and the 'where' were pure fancy. I stirred in the nest of wires that poured information through my brain. There was a man with me, his bare back against mine. He, too, was lost.
An anchor's duty was to the pilot and the pilot alone. Not to their employer, not the guild, not even to themselves. Two.
There was an image engraved on the ring, a nautical anchor from the days when man sa
PilotI woke in a nest of wires, my arms pulled off to either side, my head back and my eyes fixed at the ceiling. There was a man standing above me, straddling my form, perched precariously at the mouth of the recess I was tucked away in, one hand gripping the frame, the other feeling around the back of my neck. He moved by touch alone, certain in his movements, and his fingers closed over the knot of the wires that resided at the base of my skull and pulled, steadily, drawing it out of the socket and I inhaled sharply at the sensation. Like something had been taken from me, or that I'd lost sight of something important. A piece of me gone. It was a keen sense of loss and my eyes went wet with moisture even as he dropped his hand lower along my neck, almost to the shoulders, and pulled out another plug. The wires by my eyes were thinner, and when he pulled these out my vision went black for a moment and when it returned I felt the world was less clear, like a gray haze had been pulledPilot2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Loki - BaldurMy palace was carved into the glaciers in the far north, in approximately the location internet fanboys thought Superman would have hidden his Fortress of Solitude. It wasn't terribly impressive, just a vaguely organized collection of halls and rooms. Each hall went by the same formula columns and arched ceilings. Each room was a simple box with some window frames thrown in for variety. No windows. I was deep inside a glacier, after all.Loki - Baldur5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Architecture wasn't my strong point.
Some days I was tempted to bring a real architect in and tell them to design whatever they wished, that reality would bend to their will if I bid it. However, I couldn't bring myself to confess that I, a god, was incapable of anything more inspired than something that looked like it had been lifted straight out My First Generic Medieval Cathedral. Besides. It wasn't terribly creative, but I had fashioned it and there was a
Zombie Hunting with VampiresIt's not that I have anything against druids. It's just that ours has been in a trance for the past five days.Zombie Hunting with Vampires9 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
To be honest, I'm not even sure if he's a real druid or if he just likes that title. I personally think he just stumbled across an old book, learned a bit of the secret ways of the world, and called himself something that sounded appropriate. Oh, sure, I'll buy that he walks the old path. I've seen enough strange stuff in my very long lifetime to not believe that. But I just don't think he knows what he's doing most of the time.
It was a shame too. We could use someone that was more connected to the ways of the world right now. Jeremy and I were hunters and Maria, well, there was nothing special about her. She just had guts. Martin was the only one that could read the secret signs and here he was, cross-legged in the middle of his room with head slumped to his chest and still not responding.
"I'm just going to bite him," Jeremy said, prowling about the room, "See if that wakes
Senior Year 4Tom and Gretel were becoming fast friends, spending most of their time at school together. They were, after all, partners and seatmates in nearly every subject, and lunch buddies as well. Though Gretel wasn't at Tom's place every single day (although she'd love for it to be, given the amount of food she got from Mrs. Downing!), they did hang around a lot after class visiting the mall, going out for a snack (usually Gretel's idea) or just chilling.Senior Year 44 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
They didn't see each other at all during the first weekend, which disappointed Tom a little. But he did get to chat with her online on Saturday night via webcam.
At first all Tom could see was Gretel's beautiful, heart-shaped face, framed by her somewhat fly-away blonde hair, and that cute little mole under her eye. He could also see her exposed, faire shoulders. She was wearing a spaghetti-strap top or something, he guessed, as he could see the string-like straps digging into her flesh. But below that, he couldn't see. Not that he cared, jus
Senior Year 9The weeks flew by and Tom spent as much as he could of the last few months of his high school life with Gretel, who seemed to at least be enjoying as much as himself. Seeing that their time together was limited (they were going to separate universities for college), Tom seemed even more generous when it came to going out with Gretel. More often did he insist on treating her to another bowl of ice cream, another piece of cake, or that extra burger if she was still hungry.Senior Year 94 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
And Gretel always had room for more. It seemed like her appetite had increased even more over the past few months, growing proportionally along with Tom's generosity. And growing along with it was, of course, her ever-expanding, voluptuous figure. Indeed, the last few months of school between her birthday in March and their graduation in June had been very, very good to Gretel.
As their graduation approached so did their graduation ball. Gretel needed to have a dress made, and who better to have one made than Mrs. Down
Senior Year 7It was the second time Tom had slept over at Gretel's place, in Gretel's room, on Gretel's bed, with Gretel herself next to him. And he was still amazed he made it through the night intact, or without soaking the bed in anxious perspiration.Senior Year 74 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The next day, Tom was woken up by his phone's vibrating alarm. No time to be pleasantly tickled awake by the sun streaming in through the window this timethere was school today.
He opened his eyes and sat upright before remembering what he had awoken to the LAST time he slept over. He turned rapidly to his side, looking down at the beautiful blonde sleeping angelically next to him. He smiled to himself. Gretel always looked so peaceful when asleep, her soft lips curled into a slight smile. She would smack her lips now and then, mumbling something like " yes, I'll have another please " Even in her dreams she was all about food! Silly girl.
He was relieved (though somewhat disappointed, he admitted) to find that both her mammoth breas
Senior Year 6The cool wind of the holidays was approaching. Tom was thankful that he lived in a warm part of the country, which meant the months of November and December were still warm enough to allow tight tees and tank tops, which were Gretel's garments of choice even during these cooler times. She did overlay them with a cardigan or light jacket every now and then, on the extra windy days.Senior Year 64 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Gretel's appetite had, if anything, grown even more as the holidays approached. Tom's shy coaxing and effort to buy her extra treats or that extra upsize upgrade whenever they were together was certainly contributing to that.
She definitely didn't seem to mind though. Tom speculated he provided a pleasant refresher from Sarah, Gretel's friend and guardian back at home who was sometime critical about her eating habits and weight. He was even starting to get the impression she actually LIKED him plumping her up on purpose. She certainly didn't shy on dropping hints when she wanted MORE. A typical day at the mal
Senior Year 10Gretel was forced to miss her last gym class of the year though, the coach having dismissed her on account of her uniform being "too much of a distraction". Gretel was a bit disappointed, but shrugged it off and bounced her way to the school cafeteria, where she spent her time eating even more while waiting for Tom. Once he was done with gym class, the boy arrived at the cafeteria to find the only student therea beautiful, very busty, very buxom blonde seated on her own at one of the tables surrounded by a few empty plates and pastry wrappers.Senior Year 104 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Coach was so mean" pouted Gretel when Tom arrived. She was just wolfing down her very last cupcake, bits of it flying out of her mouth as she spoke. "He wouldn't let me exercise! My uniform hasn't gotten THAT tight, has it?" she went innocently as she gave her gym top's torn neckline a tug upwards, since so much boobage was spilling out. Her top rode up and showed even more of her now even fuller tummy.
"N-no, not at all Gretel! You're rig
Senior Year 14"Can you believe it just snapped like that?" Gretel said as Tom tied together her newly-repaired bikini top, thanks to his own resourcefulness. He had cut bits from her other bikini top's strap and used it tie together her now broken favourite apple green one. It was crude, but at least Gretel got to keep her fave bikini!Senior Year 144 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Well, you HAVE grown quite a bit since you used this last, Gretel" he answered with a smile, tightening the knot of her improvised bikini strap. The poor straps and cups were as tight as ever, with Gretel's giant boobs pouring out of them. The two of them were going out that night, to check out the night life of the resort compound. "You're not just wearing your bikini out, are you? It's uhh cold" he offered. Although lots of vacationers visited the local bars and restaurants only in their swimwear (it was a beach, after all), Tom suspected Gretel would be violating quite a few dress codes with the amount of flesh pouring out of hers.
"Of course not, silly! I br
Senior Year 8Today was a day Tom had marked on his calendar: March 13, Gretel's birthday!Senior Year 84 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was a Saturday, and Tom was at Gretel's house bright and early. Gretel had spent last night celebrating the eve of her 18th birthday partying with some girlfriends, and was still sleeping like a log in her room upstairs. Tom, meanwhile, was in the kitchen preparing.
"It's really sweet that you'd make Gretel breakfast in bed for her birthday Tom" smiled Sarah, watching Tom ready the bacon. "But did you REALLY have to make so much?" she went with a worried expression, as Tom dumped a massive pile of bacon onto a large plate.
"Sure! Gretel's got a healthy appetite and you only turn 18 once" he smiled brightly, as he placed the plate of bacon on a huge tray. It joined a mound of scrambled eggs, a pile of sausages, and a massive stack of pancakes drenched in syrup and butter. To wash it all down was an entire carton of thick, chocolate milk with a large glass. Beside the tray was the piece de resistance, Gr
Senior Year 3The next day Tom's first class was, once again, English.Senior Year 34 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Gretel was late, and their teacher had instructed them to pair up again to talk more about what they were planning to do for the play. Tom found out that Gretel was right and the play really was a musical, with song and dance and costumes and everything. Tom was actually glad that he and Gretel had been assigned to the "dance" portion of the productionhe couldn't sing at all, and after Gretel's "lesson" yesterday he supposed dancing wasn't SO bad. He did have to work on the lifting though.
Tom was just pushing his desk next to Gretel's empty one when the blossoming blonde herself walked in. Either she was wearing the same blouse as yesterday, or her fresh one had lost a button as well. She got quite a few stares, Tom noticed, but Gretel just smiled obliviously and walked on (her chest bouncing with each step).
"Ummm " went Tom, staring a little at her pushing-out cleavage.
"Sorry I'm late. I had a bit of trouble with m
Senior Year 11And keep the cake coming Tom did. That is, until Gretel made a request.Senior Year 114 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You know what would be reallyyyy good with this cake? Some ice cream to complement it! Oh, and some chocolate milk to wash it down" she said sweetly as she licked her lips after swallowing the last forkful Tom fed her.
She giggled up at him, one of her chubby arms still folded behind her head as her double chin appeared with her smile while her other arm grabbed the hem of her way-too-short top. She gave it a tug down, which caused it to tighten even further against her humongous chest which bulged up against Tom, only to have it ride up once more and expose her very plump, very well-fed belly.
Tom just couldn't say no to that. Gretel tonight was the sexiest she had ever been, and he didn't just think that because she had kissed him and he had gotten to grab her butt. She was at her fullest figure, and looked even fuller from being so well-fed throughout the day. He wanted to fill her up even more.
Senior Year 13"Come on urgghhhh !" groaned Tom as he struggled to hook up the clasps of Gretel's bikini top.Senior Year 134 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The two of them were in the privacy of their cottage, seated on the single queen-sized bed they would be sharing later that night.
"It's not too tight, is it?" went Gretel innocently through a mouthful of cookies which Tom had given her to keep her preoccupied and happy as he began the daunting task of getting her into her old bikini top. It was the same apple green two-piece bikini she had worn several months ago when they had first become friends at the beginning of Senior Year. It had been tight then, but now, over 60 pounds heavier and 5 cup sizes and ten inches bustier, cramming Gretel's even more ginormous boobs into it was like trying to cram the Pacific Ocean into a swimming pool!
"No urghhh not at all !" went Tom, who was having trouble getting the two ends of the clasps to even touch. The straps of the bikini top were really thin and string-like, and could h
Langley's Ark- Cheating is Bad"Look, all's I sayin' is that part o' the game is cheatin' and so you shouldn' be so upset."Langley's Ark- Cheating is Bad9 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The two men stared at each other from across the table. They were large and their bare arms were covered in tattoos. Since this particular tavern was so close to the skimmer docks it was a good guess that the two were loaders. Pull cargo off a skimmer. Put cargo on. Hard work that resulted in a lot of muscles, a lot of swearing, and the occasional head injury when someone wasn't watching what they were doing when operating the pulley. Between them lay two empty mugs of ale and a stack of coins. In their hands were cards.
"A'righ, I'll agree to tha'. But if you try and lay down two Bandits of the same color that's the wors' cheatin' I ever seen and it just won't fly."
The upper classes of society did not use the traditional deck of cards with Bandits and Wenches and the likes. They used Kings and Q
Senior Year 5The weeks turned to months, and as they did Tom noticed somethingGretel was definitely putting on a little weight.Senior Year 54 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She seemed to be snacking more than ever in between and during classes, and Tom noticed that her tray of food during their lunches at the cafeteria had reached the point of literally overflowing. It wasn't uncommon for a bowl of pudding or plate of cake to drop from Gretel's piled-high tray, only for her to apologize innocently and hurry back for another one.
Tom knew he was partially at fault too. Whenever they were out, he'd encourage her in the subtlest ways to indulge her culinary desires. Whether it be with a casual "The super-sized one looks more your money's worth than the regular", or a suggestive "isn't the extra-cheesy version more your type?" He'd even treat her to snacks or lunch every now and then, which she absolutely loved. Meanwhile, their afternoon's at his place after school were spent with Gretel gorging herself on Mrs. Downing's incredible cooking
Senior Year EndTheir little suite at the Paradise Resort really was for honeymooners, as it turned out. When they arrived back at their cottage, they discovered a beautiful little gazebo-type structure had been setup outside their cottage out on the white sand of their private section of beach. It was basically a comfy, fluffy bed with a roof made of palm and native wood over it for shelter and thin curtains draped around the four posts. Chimes made of seashells sounded soothingly with the blow of the sea breeze, and floral scented candles added to the peaceful feel.Senior Year End4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was paradise, in short. But to make it even more perfect for Gretel, Tom had shelled out even more of his savings. Right next to their beachside bed was a cart decked with two levels of nothing but pastries, sweets, and other delicious desserts for the sweet-toothed blonde. Joining all of it was a specially-ordered bucket of several bottles of that Coconut Chocolate drink, which had quickly become a new favourite of Gretel's.
Senior Year 12The next day Tom and Gretel woke up bright and earlyit was the day of the big beach trip!Senior Year 124 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"What do you think?" went Gretel, exiting Tom's bathroom in her new white halter-top style bikini.
"Oh, what happened to your old one?" asked Tom, who felt a clash of emotions. One part of him was obviously yearning to see how Gretel would look crammed into her old, apple green bikini the same one she had worn at a small pool party she invited him to at the start of the school year, over 60 pounds and five cup sizes ago. It was back from her freshman days, so when she had worn it then it was ridiculously tight on her. Tom could only imagine how it would fit now. Then again, the other half of him was slightly, strangely relieved she had opted for a newer, better fitting bikini. Gretel probably wouldn't notice it, but walking around the beach in her old apple green one would probably cause mass jaw-dropping and staring with every step she took.
"Oh that one? Sarah made me wear this new on
Circles of HonorCircles of Honor12 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Tea always reminds me of home. It brings to mind the cushions, the soft pastels of purple and blue, intermingled colors and beads, velvets, cashmeres, muslins, and all sorts of colors from a hundred different worlds. They were piled about in the living area, laying in heaps in relation to a central table, low lying and inlaid with an abstract mosaic of blue stones. We didn't use chairs in the living room, everything stayed low to the ground and nothing was left where it could easily fall. I remember one time I left a mug of tea, that spiced dark brew my father so favored, out on top of the table. We were involved in a fire-fight after that, and the ship was hit. I remember my mother picked up the pieces of the mug afterwards, and not saying a word about the stain on the pillows and carpet. I never left anything out where it could fall after that, and I still don't.
In our transitory life the tea was about the