'Son of Anubis' Intro'Son of Anubis' Intro9 years ago in Historical More Like This
Chapter One: A Glimpse of Things to Come
Seti woke with a start. He had heard a female screaming, and jumped up to find her. He lied back down when he realized the screaming had come from his nightmare. The voice was familiar, but he never saw the young girls face. All he could see was the Egyptian sun beating down on the sand as a girl fell to her knees and began screaming. It bothered him some nights, to see this poor girl in pain, and he knew nothing of what to do. Seti wished he could see her face.
He rolled over onto his back and looked above him at the ceiling. His accommodations now were much better than a year ago when he was twelve. Now he was thirteen, and the Royal temple painter. He had lived in the Palace since he was five years old. The Pharaoh had taken him away from his mother and father as punishment for a crime they had committed. Could his mother be the woman in his dream screaming? It would make sense; Seti couldn't remember what she looked like. Howev
Zac Efron TickleZac had just got back from the gym and sat down on the couch, exhausted. He turned on the TV but after a few minutes, fell asleep.Zac Efron Tickle2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He woke up to find himself tied to a chair, he arms behind him and his ankles tied to the legs.
'Hello?' he shouted. 'Hello?' His shouts were answered when Corbin Bleu walked in.
'Hello Zac.' he said. Zac gave him a questionable look. 'I take it that you want an explanation?' he asked.
'Damn right I do!' spat Zac. Corbin walked over to Zac and knelt beside him.
'Well, since we done High School Musical, I've always been second best to you. But now, it's time for revenge!' he said, lifting up Zac's shirt.
'What are you doing?' asked Zac fearfully. He got his answer when Corbin started digging in to Zac's sides, making him arch his back.
'Hahahahahahaha! Stop!' Zac pleaded. Corbin ignored him and went up to his armpits, also digging in to them.
'No! Hahahahahahaha! Please! Hahahaha!' screamed Zac.
'Okay. I will. Here, anyway.' Corbin said evilly. He moved down
FreshmanTeachers prepare you for this for yearsFreshman4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
But only the school aspect
Which, incidentally, doesn't change
Nobody prepares you for what goes on outside of school
Sure, you've heard stories
But you think being a good kid makes you exempt
You don't even notice yourself changing at first
Until one day you look around
And realize you're in McDonald's when your parents think you're at rehearsal
Surrounded by a bunch of practically high teenagers you barely know
Or one of your friends is offering you a cigarette
Or you're coughing up blood on your bedroom floor
Or you're alone in a car with a teenage boy
And suddenly the car crashes
Your parents are the ones to find you, of course
You somehow got less sneaky as you got older
Your parents catch everything you do
They caught you drinking
And the bruises only make them more suspicious
You'll fall in love with someone with a girlfriend
And trust me, that won't end well
Your best friend will lose her virginity
SIRENNeath the woe of Ulysses' blood and toil,SIREN9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
A sea of heavenly-fury once awaken'd
Her gaze clad in honey’d delirium ablaze
Of such beauteous prize, he shall yield;
For her tongue hath seized mortal desire
And lo the Moons’ glory shall weep in vain!
Journey’s of madness sung with promise;
— A rising tempest hurl'd to Hades reign
Oceanic rhythms untwine love forbidden,
Breaking the mists of insatiable dreams
The Sirens call ebbed like darkness falling;
Her lust bleeding into the mythic abyss ..
His anguish bestow'd the folding tides,
Unto their lips would perish in mystery
Deeper jewel'd the haunting of his soul,
Forsaken to the ink of Orpheus' muse.
And ghostly twilight shone low and pale,
O’er the hum of those ethereal seas
Long wherest his heart shall forever sail
— Arthur Crow © 2014
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.Southern modernization9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
Full CircleBroken Sunday afternoons mourn.Full Circle1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Springtime mends and dusts us off.
The moon finds us all in tattered remains
and weeps openly for the loss.
Sunsets marvel at the love below,
charmed as they walked to the end of days.
They measured their lives with sticks and stones.
Too easy, they break like a habit.
Rain falls to pieces, trembling like unsteady hands.
She kisses all her children below and the seeds
grow up to thank her.
Sandman calls them all to bed;
heavy lids close as they lay to rest.
The nighttime shakes hands with
the morning sun, another day
When a Bat is Forced to Worship an Owl's FeetBattle type: One On One KO MatchWhen a Bat is Forced to Worship an Owl's Feet3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Location: Deviant Park University Front Gate
Time: 8: 40 PM
Gill: Lord Goth's younger half-brother, a young vampire bat, born in 1991. He is around 5'10 in height and is large and muscled but hot-headed. He has long, blonde hair that reaches almost halfway down his back and has many scars all over his body that can be seen easily through his torn and ragged clothes. He wears steel shackles around his ankles and wrists and a collar around his neck from before he excaped Goth's clutches of slavery.
General Kazella: One of Goth's most reliable enforcers who was premoted to her place as General when her predecessor, General Brutus was killed by Gill in an attempt to bring him to Lord Goth alive. A young, beautiful female owl born in 1989. She stands about 6'2 and is very agile. What she lacks in physical power she makes up for in speed, agillity, dexteri
Tickle Torture Tournament Season 1 Part 3A short note before it starts:Tickle Torture Tournament Season 1 Part 32 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
In case you haven't read the earlier parts I'd advice you to read those first to not be spoiled in any way.
If you like this story, please leave a comment and let me know how you liked the background info given and how you liked the (hopefully) funny parts of the story.
I worked hard and did alot of research to create those parts and it would be a pity if that would be left uncommented.
Feedback helps me in making my stories better, which makes them more enjoyable for you as well^^
Thanks in advance!
But now please enjoy the story^^
Tickle Torture Tournament Season 1 Episode 3
*the theme song plays, the logo is shown and then the camera focuses on Blade and Risa*
Blade: It's showtime~~~!!!!! Welcome everybody to the TTT!! A huge show awaits us today as we are about to find out who will go through to the big final!
Risa: Right Blade! Things are heating up and it's only
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,Solace1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
Torchwood Foot StoryTorchwood Fan Story-Watch Where You Step.Torchwood Foot Story6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
It had started out as a run-of-the-mill artefact retrieval from a known rift hotspot, but the situation had now escalated nearly to the point of crisis. Gwen was behind the wheel of Torchwoods powerful black SUV with Toshiko sitting beside her, tracking the life form that was now causing havoc on the streets of Cardiff. Gwen swerved around a slow moving heavy goods vehicle while Toshiko yelled out directions.
Take a sharp left here!
Its a motorway Toshi, the only way is straight ahead
Well its just taken a sharp left and is now bearing down on a residential area
Gwen yanked hard on the steering wheel and cut across three lanes of traffic, narrowly avoiding several collisions with oncoming traffic to reach a small slip road that branched off the motorway Happy now? She didnt get a reply to her sarcastic comment because Tosh was now focusing all
MLK speachI am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.MLK speach2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.
But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling
Pet Peeves for Fan FictionI would believe that we all have got them, especially people who have been writing for many years and have begun to understand the very complicated and cryptic workings of story writing. Now, these pet peeves don't HAVE to be about Fan Fiction, specifically, but they seem to be the only things I'm reading nowadays, so it's the only thing I can go to at the moment. Though, there has been a time in one of the stories I've read where the girl is dumber than dumb could possibly get, but surely there's this bright side to the ridiculous choices they choose to make (like sleeping with a teacher, mostly for his looks, and later find out he only did it for some other woman, who he liked and wanted to impress because she was evil and all that garbage, but his sentiments weren't returned at all....Ever...Yeah, if you've read the House of Night series, then you'll understand what I'm talking about here!).Pet Peeves for Fan Fiction1 year ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Anyways, back to the matter at hand. Pet peeves of stories. First, I am going to describe in
The WaitingRoom is large butThe Waiting4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
paint is peeling,
from panelled walls
and alcoved ceilings.
An old woman is buried
in a damp chair.
A warm smell of piss,
She does not turn but
"Americo, do you remember
your blossoming power?
The whole world despised it
but I loved you dearly.
My wanton child-
Red in matricide,
white in supremacy
and blue here now,
in your rosewood seat"
Americo laughs briskly
at Britannia's slight.
But they are both disturbed
and chilled by the sight,
of Romulus' freshly starched sheets,
and all his leafy golden crowns,
in a tied black bag
beside the door.
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.The Coffee God1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
MaaheWhen the Maaheseum wore off, Onteia knew she was close to death. Her hair had gone white, her eyes were sunken and glassy, her flesh had receded. Those in her pod were the same: decrepit old men and women, none of them older than twenty-five. Outside, the blueshift had pushed every black hole, every brown dwarf, every burst of cosmic radiation from every pulsar in the Galactic Center into visibility. In hyperspace, even someone who never saw the shining beauty brought out by Maaheseum could see what lay beyond the cursory glance that was their lifelong perspective.Maahe1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
The pod was nearing its final destination--the spectacular, unmatched glory of a collapsing star. This was what all Travelers longed to see before their inevitable early death from the drug. Onteia reached into the small container at the center of their pod, where there were enough green-tinted black shards to last a hundred Travelers a decade. She took a piece just over an inch long, and set it on her decaying molars, and b
Zarry: Zayn 'bullies' HarryHarry held his breath as he could hear and feel Zayn's thundering footsteps grow nearer. He had been hiding behind a small space behind one of the couches. If Zayn found him hiding here, he'd make sure Harry was punished for it. Zayn and Harry have a rather peculiar relationship. They're friends but enemies at the same time. Zayn is the one who kinda bullies Harry. He doesn't beat Harry up it physically hurt him. (Unless you count being physically exhausted and drained as pain) Zayn tickle tortures Harry whenever he wanted for however long he wanted. Sometimes he'll only pin Harry down and use his fingers and blow horrific raspberries on Harry's stomach. Other times, if he's in a bad mood or just wants to full out torture Harry, he'll tie him to the bed or couch and tickle him for hours with items from his box of 'tickle tools'.Zarry: Zayn 'bullies' Harry2 years ago in Humor More Like This
"Oh Harry come out come out wherever you are," Zayn said in a sing song voice. Zayn stood only a few steps away from Harry's hiding spot making Harry's heart d
Revenge of an Army: Chapter 34"What?!" Jason, Ty, and Dragon shouted.Revenge of an Army: Chapter 342 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"While you guys were working on... Dragon's issue, I went and looked into the courtyard. " Flower said stepping out from behind Sky. "Thousands, upon thousands of squids were out there. Fitted with diamond armor, swords, bows, fire charges, catapults, and so many more weapons. " She said clenching her fists.
"We need to get to the base now! If we can get there quickly there's a chance we can get the army ready in time!" Ty said heading for the door. "We need to get our horses."
"That's the issue. The squids are riding our horses. " Flower said. "The horses were fighting them, but obeying for the most part. " She said. Dragon snarled and stormed it of the cage. She grabbed her gear which was sitting next to the control panel.
"No ONE, rides my horse but me." She snarled before leaving the room.
"We're gonna end up helping her, right?" Jason asked.
"Yep." Everyone else answered.
Dragon snuck into the courtyard and quickly spotted the squids riding
Tickle and a HalfTickle and a HalfTickle and a Half3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
This story is a work of fiction. It contains an account of minors being restrained and tickled. All names are fictional. This story contains no pornographic or erotic content. Any similarity between the characters and any person or existing character is coincidental and unintentional. Dorain©
Jonathan was so, screamingly bored! Idly, the nine-year-old wandered over to where his mom stood, chatting. The adults at this family reunion seemed to be having fun, but there were so few kids here his age. His older cousins were all out on the patio, talking to each other and laughing about teenage stuff. Young Jon tried to go hang out with them, but they just politely, but insistently suggested that he would get bored with them.
"Mom!" he asked, tapping her arm to get her attention. "When are we going?"
His mom looked down at him, her expression a bit cross at his interruption. "Not for a while yet,
It's hot in my apartment even if you're not hereWhy do I wake up,It's hot in my apartment even if you're not here9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
halfway drowning in sweat and rattling thoughts
about who you could be,
candles in my room down to their wicks end,
and me just laying in bed for a few hours.
the worst part is that you're not ignoring me.
I could call you up,
lasso a conversation like we never left our last one
tell you I love you like always
but it's worse
because you would only ever be half there.
I could never have all of you,
could never take the full moon for what it is.
so why do I try to sleep,
with a wild hare up my ass
about what could have been of us,
candles burning brighter and hotter
than all of the solar system,
drowning in perspiration
when I know I'll just lay in bed for hours.
I'm Scarlet, Baby!Perhaps I've been lazy, a boring wilt daisyI'm Scarlet, Baby!9 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
One notch less than crazy, so we'll just erase me
But if you erase me what more can you do?
One notch less is better than four, three, or two
Alright, I've been lazy
I'll amp up my game
For the glory of money, sex, films, stars, and fame
The crazy appeal will be my own chateaux
For the glory of money blood rivers will flow
is it blissful?uncertainty pulledis it blissful?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the pin from the grenade
like he pulled the pin
from her hair
and locks fell like silk
waterfalls upon her shoulders,
future happiness fell
like shrapnel, embedding into
the inevitability shook
like war as they shook together
like love shakes every fiber in
our being to convince us of
some things do last forever.
but the days die
as soldiers quiver in their wounds,
regrets that dig deeper the longer
they live entangled in one another
until they die too, eyes fixing into
each others starless nights.
and how gently they went,
he from her, her from him.
five.Five is the number of times you worry he’s stopped breathing, as the surgeons carve around his heart, twisting away the plaque ridden arteries, and pulling a vein out of his leg. Five is the number of heart wrenching hours you and your family were waiting in the hospital room, worried that your lives would crumble, that there would be five members of the family instead of six, that five days out of the week he would not come home for dinner, that five kisses from him would no longer be given to his wife and four children. Five was the amount of fingernails you bit off while watching people enter and exit the waiting room, and the amount of minutes your mother spent on the phone, explaining that something was wrong. Five is the critical difference between holding a father’s hand as your mother cries into his heart shaped pillow. The difference between rejoicing and smiling weakly because he’s okay or carrying your father’s American-flag-covered-casket and watchinfive.10 months ago in Emotional More Like This
Tickle Ward pt 2Tickle Ward Part 2Tickle Ward pt 29 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Daniel snorted under his breath and looked Lisa in the eyes, "…Would you believe that if you were them?" Lisa thought that over, her conclusion coming to a no. "I guess not." Daniel explained, "Anyway, whether I came back empty handed or not, I'd be in the shit hole then." He shuddered at the thought. "I'm one for tickling, but I'm not one for being tickled. It's complete agony." Lisa rolled her eyes over, "And yet, you enjoy inflicting that on other people." Danny couldn't help make his grin spread more across his face. It was true. He loved it. The squeals and girlish screams when you played with women's toes, the way they giggle uncontrollably when you give their ribs a light stroking, the horrible endurance of them trying not to laugh when you tell a little white lie that you'll let them go if they don't laugh for 5 minutes. Yes, he adored it all that he chuckled to himself evilly making Lisa move her chair back a bit in a worried manner.
His Soul Burns Brighter. His Soul Burns Brighter.His Soul Burns Brighter.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There is a boy
Who feels too much
But cannot say
What he needs to say.
So he thinks a lot
Hours and hours
And then he began to write.
He quickly writes down
What he has wanted to say:
Whispers and secrets
Love and hate
In just a few short years
He will have burned through
Thousands of papers
With a colored pen and an eager hand.
He never erases
For he loves
Each and every word
He wants his thoughts
to be blatantly heard.
His soul burns brighter
Than any of ours ever could...
We can plead and wish
But we do not have
His unique gifts.
His eyes change color
As his thoughts
Turn to writing,
For he is to paper
As thunder is to lightning.
One of these days
He will gain the confidence to speak,
His introverted ways
Will begin to decrease.
Over the years
This boy has turned into a man,
Long and swift fingers
Attached to calloused hands.
His heart has scars
Along with his ego,
But when things get bad,
In his writing he will show