Dear Yaoi Fangirls Dear Yaoi Fangirls,Dear Yaoi Fangirls8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Listen, I need you to do me an enormous favor. Lay off the drugs for just, like, an hour. Yea, I'm talking to you—you with the ominous glitter in your eye! You with the suspicious grin! You with the notepad labeled "Yaoi Fic Ideas!" You with the "SemexSeme is Hot" t-shirt! (Hey… where'd you get that? Just… curious…) Enough already!
Oh, no, I don't mean to dissuade you entirely from writing Yaoi. We all have our dirty little hobbies. I, for instance, Dr. Gregory House, stay up until the wee hours of the morning watching internet porn. My favorite one, actually, has four girls all going at it at once. I believe you call that "Yuri." I also happen to know that, despite what her kind and gentle exterior might make you think, Cameron tortures puppies in her free time. Sickening, isn't it?
All I'm asking is that you stop writing those fanf
Out of Eylsweyr - Chapter 2.1Out of Eylsweyr - Chapter 2.17 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The sun had set long ago on Bravil, the shanty town of Cyrodiil, one of the most decrepit cities of Tamriel
There was not much to see around, apart from Skooma dealers and cunning beggars, and the only sound attraction of the place was the statute of the Old Lady, which was said to bring luck to anyone who kissed it.
If people knew the stature was in fact a monument in the Night Mothers glory, and that, under it, was hiding her crypt, they would certainly not be as enthusiastic to kiss it, especially now the Unholy Matron seemed to be particularly enraged
I knew it! spat her voice, echoing between the walls in the crypt. I knew it! The situation is a complete mess again because of her!
Dont you think you are over dramatising a bit?
They said the Night Mothers voice had the ability to freeze people life in their veins. But the second voice was literally sucking it out
No! I am not! th
Out of Elsweyr - Chapter 16.2Out of Elsweyr - Chapter 16.26 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Chapter 16.2 - Bayete, Incosi !
)()( )()( )()( )()( )()(
Not bad Not bad at all.
Arms crossed behind his back, Bombassa stood up on the tips of his toes before falling back on his heels, a very satisfied look on his face as he admired the ranks before him.
All right! Atten-shun! the Redguard barked. In a wonderful harmonious whole, the troop stood to attention. Well ladies, isnt that bloody neat? he asked, turning around, his dark face illuminated by an ecstatic smile.
Standing behind him, Urzob gave him a blank.
Anirnes face twitched in anger. When youre done clowning around, she snarled curtly, We should go over plans prior to departing for Corinthe.
Aaah, relax Anirne! We ran through the check list ten times already. Bombassa waved dismissively. Look, our men are ready, fully equipped and Ralentus
Decaying VanityDecaying VanityDecaying Vanity9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Ill let the wind part my hair,
The mud serves as face paint.
Grass be my petticoat,
And clouds become my shade.
Ill let the rain cleanse my flesh,
Decomposition at my feet.
Leaves veil my bare body,
And consider my friends the trees.
Ill let the Earth claim myself,
The bugs jewel my skin.
Moonlight to keep me company,
And weeds- my dying crib.
Beauty is still vain,
Even if you're a rotting
Unholy Mark Of SacrificeThe records of satanic crimesUnholy Mark Of Sacrifice9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Reveal one unholy mark
The swords used in satanic sacrifices
Chant the verses of Death
The secrets of Satan worshipers
Hide underneath their house
The dungeons cry for life
As the children are sacrificed
Riding on the back of Lamb
Pulling life out of man
Crawling upon the victim's mind
Taking them to the Land of the Damned
The brutal rape by Satan's Son
The abusing curses over his victim
The emotions curled to face the death
Strong opposition against the angels
Pulverizing skull and melting brains
Punctured heart and overflowing veins
Follow their way to the dark catharsis
Into the depth of death - your purpose forsaken
Out of Elsweyr - Chapter 10.1Out of Elsweyr - Chapter 10.17 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Chapter 10 The Clash of Civilisations
All right. Lucien said in between mouthfuls of the excellent spiced-gumbo-with-rice he was eating, using only three fingers of his left hand according to the Khajiit custom. Let me sum things up just to make sure I understand everything correctly
The Imperial paused, looking a bit hesitant, then finally shrugged and helped himself to more gumbo. The bad news he had just received had not so much as shaken his appetite. The least that could be said was that Lucien was doing justice to Elsweyr cuisine, under the amused glances of the other guests. The Imperial had met them all during the big party of the previous night, all of them high-ranking Khajiit from the SyndiCat though now far less wasted than during previous, owing to a more moderated amount of alcohol.
First was Sbu, an exotic female Tojay in charge of the entertainment department, whose revealing clothing wa
To be Loved, Part 6--GaaLeeAki was sleeping in the waiting room of the hospital. Kankuro was steadily improving, but, just to make sure, Aki was always in that hospital, day in and day out. Since she was usually up all night, she was always tired. A lot of the time, Tenten had to take over watching, since Aki usually dropped off to sleep. This time, she was awoken by a loud ringing noise. She shot up, completely caught off guard.To be Loved, Part 6--GaaLee8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
IM AWAKE, IM AWAKE!!!!! She yelled to no-one in particular. Then she remembered the ringing, and realised that it was her mobile phone. Aki pulled it out of her pocket and answered.
Hey, wassup? She pondered.
Hi, its me, Yama. The voice on the other end said.
Oh, its you, Yama-chan! How are you?
Yama was Akis team mate. She was a girl who, for most of her life, didnt know any shinobi skills, until Aki taught her the basics, like the Bunshin no jutsu. Yama had long, mahogany brown hair, tied up in a bun w
To be loved, Part 5--GaaLeeLee stumbled into his hotel room, panting for breath, locking the door behind him. A bright blush was spreading across his face, making it a bright rouge colour.To be loved, Part 5--GaaLee8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
What is this……………?
Lee had rushed back to his room after meeting Gaara on the roof of his house. After Gaara had kissed him for the third time in Lee's life, he felt a warmness spread throughout his body. It felt as if he was…………
Lee was confused.
What is this………I thought I liked Sakura-san! I am straight, darn it! Why am I feeling like this around Gaara?! I have never felt like this for a boy before…………but………he is so cute………..
Lee blushed profusely. He had just admitted to finding a boy "cute".
"Alright, so I admit he is cute, but…………that is no reason to like another boy! I am in love with Sakura-san! I am! Seriously! I love her! With all my heart! I swear!</i>
But, even as he was trying to tell himself this, he knew that it wasn't true.
Darn it………..Something must be wrong with me…………….Gaara-san…………
Zoofic - Studies of HomunculusOn the Behaviors, Appearances, and Territory of the Rare HomunculusZoofic - Studies of Homunculus9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The creature commonly known as the Homunculus is divided into seven subspecies: the Lust, the Gluttony, the rare European Wrath, the Greed, the Canadian Envy, the Sloth, and the Pride, which is commonly known as a Fuhrer to less versed observers. As a whole, Homunculi are becoming increasingly rare due to habitat loss, lack of prey, and hunting due to their fierce dislike of humans. As they are not as cute or as tolerant of other species as Elrics, or even the aggressive Mustang, there is little action from conservation groups to protect them.
One can recognize a Homunculus of any subspecies by finding the Oroboros marking on its body--the location varies with each subspecies, and it can be harder to find with some than others. Prides are the hardest to spot, as they wear patches over the eye that is marked with an Oroboros, and so are often labelled as Fuhrers. It is easy to recognize a Greed, a Lust, or a Cana
Sympathy, Tenderness"Ryou, what the hell happened to you? You look like the wrath of God!" Marik asked, shocked to see the state his friend was in. The host of the ring had a bruised cheek and a split lip, looking more fragile than before. He smiled awkwardly, widening the gash that had been inflicted on his mouth.Sympathy, Tenderness6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Some boys in the older years decided to use me as a punching bag...they said something about how popular I am with girls, but I wasn't paying much attention...don't worry, I'll be fine," he replied, false cheer straining his vocal chords. Marik gestured to his sofa, his violet eyes filled with worry.
"Sit down, let me get a look at you," he said, knowing that he wasn't telling the whole truth. As Ryou made his way over, Marik noticed how stiffly he walked, how his expression widened slightly in pain as he sat down. The Egyptian boy sat next to him and, looking him straight in the eyes, asked, "How badly are you hurt? The truth, Ryou." The silver-haired boy sighed.
"I think they bruised my back
Nemiah - a fragmentNemiah - a fragment10 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Nemiah a Hesirion fragment.
Two gliding shadows, hot to the touch as they caressed the salt-glass sand, mingled and fused with the cooler unmoving shade of a tall Levaan Palm. The trees twisting stems marked the edges of the spreading fingers of the great Inship Desert; sun burned fingers that had long ago begun to stretch and claw their way into the cooler, ocean quenched lands of the Dol-Haalat, and here, at the north-western edge of the land of Hirad.
Dadengo, the sun, not quite halfway through his journey across the cloudless lapis lazuli ocean that served as the Haradi-Inship sky, shone as only a god could; and the heat of his love for this land would only increase as noon approached. Below, a pair of tattooed lizards danced a foot-cooling dance while keeping at least one of their rotating eyes on the interlopers.
Of the two owners of the now motionless shadows, the most immediately striking was the tall graceful woman. Poised like an ancient bronze st
Out of Elsweyr - Chapter 15.3Chapter 15.3 - Noodles, Black Pudding and Spider of DoomOut of Elsweyr - Chapter 15.36 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
(...) Someone screamed. A scream so powerful it made both Lucien and JGhasta jump in surprised.
The Khajiit hissed internally. By Sithis, was it impossible to have a quiet conversation around here without being interrupted by screams?
It was not so much the interruption that perturbed JGhasta this time, the scream was very different than the ones which usually pierced the nights of Howldeath. It was not expressing total despair and sadness, but sheer horror.
Lucien and JGhasta exchanged a quick glance. The boy looked totally terrified.
It came from the factory he said in a tiny voice. You know, the one on the other side of the chapel.
Without waiting for more explanations, JGhasta jumped to his feet, bursting out of the chapel, followed by Lucien, begging him to wait and not to run so fast.
Once outside, the Khajiit rushed toward the back entrance of the factory before stoppin
Hellsing: Bright eyes ~Hellsing: Bright eyes~Hellsing: Bright eyes6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The rain came down hard, washing away whatever was left burning of the once great city of London. Everyone and everything was dead and burnt.
A few stragglers had managed to take refuge, some even burying themselves deep in the basements of their houses and flats, others in the dark underground tunnels.
Among those that weren't hiding, the ones that were fighting; the Hellsing organization, The Iscariots and the letzes battoulion millenium.
It was long and drawn out, but finally, the villains where defeated.
But what no one saw, was the inner pain and war that raged within some of those fighting.
~Anderson and Maxwell~
Like a son.
Like a brother.
Like a friend.
Like a pupil.
Anderson had now lost someon
two tired children'when the sky falls,' she whispered softly, playing with the ends of his hair, 'will you hold my hand?'two tired children10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
they sat in plastic chairs under the streetlight and staring at the stars. the road was empty and the city was hollow, littered with neon advertisements for underwear and french fries. the wind was cool, but not biting, soft and fresh around her neck as she hugged her body, grasping her shoulders and crossing her heart. she'd only brought one bag and she held it between her feet. her little red case of cds and jewelry. all he had was his guitar. she'd never seen him without it. they traveled light, perhaps hoping it'd rub off on their minds, as they sat with their tickets in their pockets and no money in their wallets. she looked up at his face.
'sure,' he said, touching her leg. 'sure i will.'
they turned their heads, looking straight ahead, watching the streetlight shudder and flicker, blinking and fighting as it struggled with the inevitable. it was silent, save for the quiet flow
Out of Elsweyr - Chapter 16.1Out of Elsweyr - Chapter 16.16 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Chapter 16.1 - Bayete, Incosi !
( ) Below the foliage of the Great Forest of Tenmar,
Far far beneath, in the humus and under the roots,
Their ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Lion Men sleep.
There hath they lain for ages, and will lie
Until they answer the call of the Bokor.
Great is their power, even greatest their anger,
And in roaring they shall rise and on the surface die. ( )
David Deadstone, Out of Elsweyr, transcription of a traditional song on the Lion Men.
The city of Torval glinted in the midday sun. The colourful standards emblazoned with the emblem of the city half a sun and hung from the highest buildings in the city flew and flapped in the wind.
The narrow streets echoed with excited conversations and exclamations of the massive crowd, which elbowed its way to the Great Plaza and the Kraal of Torval.
That day was to be memorable, it had to be. After all, it was not every day you had t
Where we belong"It's fine, Royal. We know what's best for you."Where we belong5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
How often had she heard those words! Always said in the same way, with light smiles and seemingly all-knowing eyes. Her parents always knew what was best for her. They were, after all, the reigning monarchs of their tribe. Ever since she was a little girl, her parents had known exactly what she needed for "her own good." She couldn't think of a time when she had made her own decisions, as they had all been made for her. After all, her parents reasoned, How can she make any informed decisions on her own? What does she know about what's best for her? She was but a child. Royal had heard those words so many times; she had come to whole-heartedly believe them. She had gotten so used to the calming influence of them that she had always been content to hear them.
Sitting across from where they sat, twirling her shoulder-length violet hair around her fingers, she heard her parents making
Perfection"I need you, Franziska. Ever since I met you, I've needed you. Is that wrong?"Perfection4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
She knew what the answer was, or what it should be. Her papa had drilled it into every aspect of her life: Perfection. Everything must be absolutely perfect, from work to hobbies to love. She remembered tentatively asking him, back when she was too young to know herself, What kind of man would you like to be my husband? He just smiled and said, As long as he is as perfect as you, and not slow you down, then any man you like. (with a heavy emphasis on "man"). Back then, being involved with a woman never even crossed her mind. Why should it? Anything other than that would be imperfect. She remembered it very clearly, when they once took a walk together and spied two women holding hands; his grimace and the muttered curse, the silent, sneering judgement: Deviants, all of them. The youth of today
Even though he wasn't alive anymore, she still tried to live up to his expe
Fire DancerFire leapt around the scarred stranger,Fire Dancer6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Swirling like a boiling red hurricane,
And he span in the eye of it,
Fanning it with nothing but his
A murmured phrase and the flames soar
High into the obsidian sky
More majestic than the fireworks
Of another world, one he'd much rather
As the crowd watches amazed,
He speaks to the sparks,
Conversing in a language no one else knows,
Dancing with movements no one else can imitate,
And more flames explode above.
The flames suddenly rain to earth,
Blossoming into flowers of unparalleled beauty,
And as he juggles with lighted torches,
The crowd look on
The man with the scarred face is happy,
Dancing as though he is celebrating,
Whispering as though he is singing,
For none can command flames
So wildly well as he.
Piranhas vs VampiresSebastian Lacroix was a distressed Ventrue.Piranhas vs Vampires6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
One might argue it had to do with the fact that he was ruling over a city, Los Angeles, which hosted the highest vampire-per-human ratio in the whole World of Darkness, or perhaps blame it on the Kuejiin threat, the Gehenna craze, the ever present paranoia that made up the very core of Kindred existance.
That was obviously something, but he was quite well accustomed to it: he wore it nightly like his favourite Count of Florence shirt, with a somewhat loving countenance, knowing that without it, he wouldnt be the same.
No, the reason for which, that particular night he was feeling irked was to blame on his own . One of his own agents, in fact.
He shook his head, playing inadvertently with a pen on his desk. The Malkavian had always been a problem, starting from the very night she had been sired. Illegal siring, just when he was getting the feeling everyone else had learnt that he was now the Prince and that his word was la
the sea salty sweet withthe sea salty sweet with10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
birdcry (the sea salty sweet with)
the sea was his womb;
the salt the waves the sea
the boy, he counted waves:
and said: I'll live to be that--
-- old man drowning & crow-
birds cawing &
let's pretend he is deaf:
and the waves have number but not
the sound of rushing past quickly. the
old man doesn't stop drowning, though
a croak, silent & open-mouthed desperation,
carries him under.
SyllogismSyllogism10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hark to thee, my angel to be,
How does your halo shine?
Your life is spent of anger and emotion,
Hiding inside a sinister devotion,
Issuing forth from what once was mine.
How dost thou violate this law divine?
Spread your wings, be sweet and sing,
For soon your bell shall toll.
Self proclaimed you shall remain,
Hidden within your guise,
'Til illumination itself, restrain,
How then, will you be seen in others eyes?
Heart burned with desire, does your hand dare seize the fire?
Your choir will not wait for thee.
Fallen now, your light receding,
Ask Milton how your future runs,
Amazed by your fair heart's rushed bleeding?
Soon you shall see how a noose within a halo, becomes.
My little butterfly, why do you wonder why?
There is no reason to your swinging rhyme.
Hark to thee, my angel to be,
How does your halo shine?
Perfect Morsels.....Perfect Morsels.....7 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
My tummy is bursting with happiness.
During an interveiw once I was asked why it was so important to the Inupiaq People that we continue to rely on the arctic to provide for our food. I stumbled and mumbled something I'm sure...but I do remember saying, it is a connection with our ancestors.
I have just finished cleaning the table off after dinner. We literally had no non-Native foods on the menu. For dinner we ate ; boiled caribou meat, soft and seasoned with nothing but salt and pepper, muktuk dug out from the depths of our freezer, a chunk that was soft and buttery smooth, Seal oil that we ourselves harvested and prepared from the spring, it tasted sweet and not at all fishy, the epitome of love in a jar, and dried caribou meat that we dried this summer, clean and cruchy, in an addictive manner.
A connection with ancestor, in the midst of gorging, I took my ulu and swiflty cut the boiled meat into small bit sized pieces, ready
Aynadaki KizAynadaki Kiz9 years ago in Mystery & Suspense More Like This
Elini uzattı. Bir aynaydı dokunduğu. Kendine baktı uzun uzun ve parmağını görüntüsünün üzerinde gezdirdi, görüntüsü de onun.
"Bu aynanın arkasında ne var?" diye sordu yanındakine.Yanındaki eğildi, bukleleri omzuna düşerken sıcak nefesini kulağının dibinde hissetti.
"Masalların ardına saklanmış gerçekler , küçüğüm..." dedi melodik ses. "Sadece görmekte zorlanıyorsun..."
Parmağımdan akan sıcak kanı hissediyorum. Damarlarımdan tazyikle fışkırıyor , avucumda birikiyor ve yavaş yavaş soğurken parmaklarımdan süzülüor. Kırık ayna var karşımda ve o günden kalan parmak izlerimiz. Görüntüm bana bakmıyor, gözleri mat.
Doğruluyorum...Gözlerimden yaşlar akarken acıya aldırmadan yumrukluyorum aynayı.
Ayna parçalara ayrılıyor... Vücuduma sap
Tips For Editing PoetryTips For Editing Poetry10 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
***Tips For the Novice (and otherwise) - Editing***
The blanket statement, "Editing/revision harms poetry," is simply wrong. It's akin to a photographer claiming that focusing the lens ruins the emotion of the photograph. It is the details, and the appropriate attention paid to them, that separate a photograph from a snapshot. Imagine a film maker slapping every frame he shot up on the screen without editing for continuity, for pacing, for effect. What a disaster. That is not to say that editing can't be destructive - there is such a thing as poor editing, just as there is poor writing. But done correctly, done well, it is one of the most important tools in the poet's shed.
Never shy away from editing/revision. Some young writers feel that to revise is to kill the spirit of the poem. This notion serves to sacrifice the potential of a poem for an ideal that