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Similar Deviations

The
Serpent's Curse


Preface


Roy
Longfellow was a pirate who sailed the seven seas terrorizing all who
crossed his path. He was known a the serpent pirate because his jolly
roger was a blood red flag with a skeleton bring crushed by a great
sea serpent. However what no one knew about him was that he was a
cursed man.


Before
Longfellow was born his farther ,who was also a sea fairing man, had
done something so terrible that  no could speak of what it was
fearing that they would be cursed as well. Anyway Longfellow's father
had committed such a terrible crime that a witch cursed him saying
that if his wife was ever to give birth to a son on open water the
that boy would never be able to set foot on land. Also every night
when the moon was no longer in the sky he would turn into a sea
serpent and devour a hundred souls before the sunrise. the
consequence for breaking either of these rules was death. The only
way to break the curse was if a woman willingly gave him her heart to
him.


Five
years after the curse was made Roy was born while his father and his
mother sailed across the Atlantic. Roy's mother died in child birth
her dieing wish was that Roy's father not kill their son. Keeping his
wife's wish he raised the boy for five years slowly going insane from
grief from the loss of his wife and having to raise son who was a
monster. Finally one in a fit of he took a knife and slashed Roy
three times across the face.


The
next morning his fathers ship was attacked by pirates. When the
captain of the ship found Roy hiding in the cargo hold he took pity
on the poor boy with his bloody bandaged face. While he had the rest
of the people on the ship killed he took Roy and raised him. He lived
with the pirates for fourteen keeping his dark secret from them and
when the old pirate captain finally died he named Roy the new captain
of the ship
The
Bloody Horizon.




this is just an the begining of a pirate story I had
Chapter One:[link]
Chapter Two:[link]
Preface with corrections:[link]
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We come from the land of the ice and snow,
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
How soft your fields so green, can whisper tales of gore,
Of how we calmed the tides of war. We are your overlords.

"The Immigrant Song", Led Zeppelin (Page, Plant)




The morning was colder than it had been in recent days. Ralof wasn't convinced that the temperature had anything to do with the climate of Skyrim however; he was sure the camp's proximity to the fort at Broken Tower Redoubt had more to do with the chill up his spine. Those damn Forsworn crawled through the fort; their burning eyes scanning the horizon. Ralof and his men were forced to keep their cooking fires low to prevent unwanted attention. It also meant that they had to rely upon their furs and pelts for added warmth. And he wasn't sure if either was successful.

Low clouds at this elevation were at least helping to provide cover from both directions: preventing discovery from the fort to the south and the caravan that was parked to the north that they had been tracking. It was involved in some sort of an accident – from what his scouts advised him, Ralof could only assume that they encountered a sinkhole. The freezing and thawing of the ground led to a depression that one of the largest carts became trapped in.

It was a positive development for his Stormcloak brethren – this was going to be their first mission to prove their worth to Galmar Stone-Fist, Ulfric's second in command. Ralof had hoped since his promotion to Captain for an opportunity like this. Something to prove to his seniors that he was worthy of the title. This delay in the caravan's progress would allow for the reinforcements to arrive, and he would lead them to victory against the guards they would face. Since he received word that the men Galmar was sending should be arriving that day, he had been on the lookout for them since the sun rose.

"Still no sign of reinforcements, Captain?"

Ralof looked up at the Nord warrior Haakon. The large man was leaning heavily upon his steel greatsword.

"I don't suspect we'll see them until closer to the time when the sun is highest in the sky," Ralof said, shaking his head. "But then, I've been wrong before." His eyes narrowed as he looked towards the south. A figure in the fog was approaching from a distance; small, yet guarded. He couldn't tell who it was…whether it was one of the Forsworn or someone else. "On your guard men."

The soldiers in the temporary camp readied their weapons and slipped behind the natural elements in the landscape. They were partially surrounded on three sides by large shrubbery and thick vegetation. Several jutting pieces of rock stuck out as well, obscuring their position from oncoming attack. Yet the approaching individual seemed to be heading directly towards them. Ralof signalled to the others to stay back as he stepped out slowly towards the path, attempting to draw the figure's attention away from his troops. He could see the silhouetted figure place their hand upon their sheathed weapon, but did not draw it.

As the fog slowly dissipated from around the figure, he could make out that it was a woman who approached. A woman he'd seen before. Of course! She was at Korvanjund when we retrieved the crown for Ulfric!

But it wasn't the first time he'd seen her. Her face was unmistakable. She had also been on the wagon when he was taken to Helgen…to be put to death. He had no idea then what her so-called crime was against the Imperials, but it appeared that she wasn't about to let them get away with anything they'd done against her now. She had joined the Stormcloaks to fight against the Empire.

"Good day to you, woman," he called out. "Have you been sent by Galmar?"

He could see her relax her stance as she continued to approach. "I have."

"Just you?" Ralof was taken aback that she was their only reinforcement.

She finally stood before him and nodded. "Do you not trust Galmar's judgment?"

"I do not question his judgment," he replied. "But I'll admit I was expecting…more than a single person."

"He tells me that you'll only need me for this," she said flatly. "There are apparently small numbers guarding the caravan. And that you'll only need one person to sneak into it."

"So you know of our mission then?"

"I was the one who discovered just how important this caravan will be for us," she replied. He wondered if there were arrogance behind her words, but it appeared to be nothing more than a factual statement. "I suppose it's rather serendipitous that you've managed to encounter this in your scouting patrols."

"Yes…absolutely fortunate," he replied. "You must have been travelling on foot for some time. Please…come and get some food and we can discuss how to handle this situation."

She nodded and followed him to where the others were concealed. He could see her scanning over him, uncertain of something.

"Like what you see, Breton?" he joked.

"No," she quickly replied. "I mean…yes…I…" She looked straight ahead, trying to avoid his eyes.

He chuckled over her awkwardness. "Relax. I'm only wondering why you're paying such close attention to me."

She looked back at him. "I'm just trying to figure out where I know you from. I think I saw you before we took Whiterun."

"Ah, yes," he replied. "Whiterun as well. I was wondering the same when I saw you approaching. I recall you from Korvanjund. And Helgen."

"Helgen?" she replied incredulously. "You were at Helgen?"

"I was. In fact, we spoke briefly. In the wagon on the way there."

"You?" She eyed him closely, slowly nodding. "Yes, I do remember you now. You were the one…you set me free of my bindings."

He nodded. "And after everything, you still decided to go with that damned Hadvar," he said, joking.

"Yeah…about that," she replied. "I didn't know what was happening. It was chaotic. There were people everywhere. I didn't know where I was—"

"Relax," Ralof interrupted. "I'm only joking. I know it was chaotic. I only wondered if it was something I said."

"I…I don't think so," she replied.

He looked at her oddly. "You don't…really get my humour…do you?"

She frowned. "No, I suppose I don't. Sorry about that…but then, I have a lot going on…in here." She pointed to her head.

He chuckled and stopped her. "We still haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Ralof. Captain Ralof."

"Captain, is it?" she repeated. "Well, it is good to meet you, Captain Ralof. I'm Marieka. No title."

"Marieka, you say," he replied. "I've heard your name in whispers. And I believe you do have a title. You've been called Bone-Breaker."

She grimaced. "Hardly. I'm a mage, Ralof. I rarely break bones."

"Galmar and Ulfric do not easily throw titles around," he advised. "Whatever you've done, you must have impressed them. Either way, let me introduce you to everyone here."

She peered around him, spotting the group that had now relaxed their positions when they saw Ralof welcoming her to the camp.

He passed her a large piece of bread, for which she was thankful and immediately began to pick away at it while he introduced the Stormcloaks. He pointed to each member of the camp in turn, beginning with Haakon who approached her and nodded. He was a full two heads taller than she was and Ralof couldn't help but smile when he saw just how far she had to crane her neck to look at the man. Two others approached, both archers: Jannicke, a tall, slender Nord with the appearance of a young woman just coming into her own; and Peder, a grizzled older man full of anger and an inherent mistrust for outsiders. Neither of the two seemed particularly impressed with Marieka's appearance at the camp, but greeted her nonetheless. A young man in his teenage years approached her, sticking out his hand to greet her. She shook it and he introduced himself as Soren. As the smallest one in camp, he was pleased to find someone was finally more diminutive than he. Another archer, Karine remained on the ground, but nodded to her as she stepped forth. The last of the group was a blacksmith – an older man named Stellan who travelled with them to assist with weapons support when it was needed.

She looked at Stellan and then at Soren carefully. "You must be kin," she observed. "The two of you resemble each other far too much to be coincidental."

Stellan smiled at her as he looked upon the younger man. The shade of their dark blonde hair was similar. The facial structure near their nose and chin were almost identical. And despite the different colours of the iris of their eyes, the shapes were unmistakably similar. He nodded at her. "Soren is my son."

Her expression turned contemplative, and while Ralof did not miss it, neither did he comment upon it. They had all experienced loss in their lives at one point or another; there was no sense in dwelling upon it.

"Come Marieka," he said. "Now that you've met everyone in camp, perhaps we can discuss strategy."

She nodded. "What's the situation at the caravan?"

Ralof described the delay they faced with the current status of the largest cart. He suggested that if one of them could infiltrate the caravan's location to take out the scout, the rest of them could attack the Imperial guards from the ridge above. It couldn't have been in a more perfect location.

"I could certainly help in that regard," Marieka said. "Though I work best under cover of darkness."

"I thought it best that we attacked at night anyhow," Ralof agreed. He looked around at the others for their agreement. Seeing no opposition, he continued. "It's settled then. We attack at dusk. With any luck, the Imperials will have bellies full of meat and mead and won't know what's hit them. Feel free to explore, but stay away from the caravan. And be back before the sun begins to set."

Most of the group dispersed, happy to stretch their legs for the day and careful to avoid the area south where the Forsworn were situated. Only Marieka, Stellan and his son remained with Ralof, and she quickly settled in next to the fire and into conversation. That discussed at length how both Ralof and Stellan came to be a part of the rebellion, but eventually, Ralof's curiousity got the better of him.

"So how does a Breton find herself in the company of Ulfric Stormcloak?" he asked out of the blue.

She shrugged slightly. "I found my way to Windhelm for…something. I can't even recall what I was there for now. But I came upon the scene of some guards investigating a murder of a young woman. When the guards said I couldn't help them unless I had permission from the steward, I marched right up to the Palace of the Kings. And the man I was searching for wasn't there…so I spoke directly to Ulfric."

"Wow," Soren said, evidently star struck. "You know, you hear of these great leaders, but you never think you'll meet them. What was it like? To meet Ulfric, I mean."

Her expression changed; she looked temporarily confused. "I'm not sure…I mean…what do you mean? He's…just a man."

Soren looked slightly disappointed by her answer. "You mean, you weren't in awe of him? He's such a legendary man! Shouting the High King to death!"

She shrugged. "Well, I suppose. That is, he's impressive. Rather large, but then his second is so much more frightening. Especially since I'm so…not very large."

Stellan chuckled at her stumbling over words. "Don't mind the boy," he said. "Ulfric has been a hero to him for some years now. That they finally allowed him to join the rebellion has been a bit of a blessing for our family. It has given me some regular work as well."

"Your work is much needed, Stellan," Ralof interjected. "And your son is of the age where we can begin to include him in some more basic tasks. He has learned to fight well very quickly."

Soren's face lit up with a large smile. His father put an arm around him proudly.

"A true Nord," Stellan said. "Never prouder have I been of my son."

Marieka smiled at them both, yet Ralof again noticed the wistful look behind the smile.

"You're of the age to have children, Marieka," Stellen noted. "Do you have any?"

"Me?" she exclaimed. "Oh no! No, I don't have children."

"What's wrong?" Ralof joked. "Haven't found the right man? You need one of us strong Nords…not one of your silky Breton men."

She couldn't hold back the smile from her face. "No…no, it's not that," she replied. "I'm just…I don't think I'm the mothering type."

Both Stellan and Ralof looked at her, as if appraising her suitability from her appearance.

"Nonsense," Stellan countered. "Every woman has it in them to be a mother."

"Bah!" she growled. "You Nords and your ridiculous molds to fit everyone into. Not every woman is suitable for domestication, you know."

"Oh ho ho!" Ralof exclaimed. "Got a bit of a lively one here, eh Stellan?"

Marieka crossed her arms defiantly, glaring at him. "I'm much too busy to consider even thinking about a child," she pointed out. "What, with the rebellion…and…I do a lot of travelling. I'm very busy."

"You mentioned that," Ralof said, smirking. "I think I was right. You haven't found the right man."

She shot him another cold look. "As a matter of fact," she corrected him, "I have found the right man. We just…haven't…discussed such things."

"Are you married?" Stellan asked.

"What? Why does everyone want to know if I'm married?" she exclaimed in a huff. "No, I'm not married to the man."

Ralof smiled at Stellan, pleased at the reaction they were getting as they teased her.

"Is he a prissy Breton?" Ralof asked, chuckling after he did so.

"By the gods, Ralof," she grumbled, clearly not amused by the line of questions. "Why must all you men be the same? Always asking the same questions. Always wanting to know what isn't your business."

"Ah, my apologies, Marieka," he said. "I've been enjoying your reaction."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You do realize I can set you on fire if I want, right?"

He laughed in response. "Truly. I am sorry."

"Fine," she said. "Apology accepted."

A few moments of silence passed.

"I still want to know if this man's a Breton."

If she could have set him on fire simply by looking at him, it would have happened in that moment.

"Oh for Talos' sake!" she cried. "No! He's not a Breton. He's a Nord! Are you happy to know this?"

Ralof looked over at Stellan, who immediately shrugged at him.

"Actually, yes. That does make me strangely happy," he replied.

She drove a small fist into his arm. "Ow! Your bloody chainmail!"

The three men laughed openly at her. She looked down at her hand, rubbing it and scrunching up her face. But soon after, she joined in with them, laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole conversation.

"Listen," she began. "No more questions about me, okay?"

The others nodded, before Soren's eyes lit up. "Wait! I have one more!"

She sighed. "Go ahead, Soren."

"You said your name was Marieka," he said. "I've heard rumours about a Marieka. That she is the Dragonborn. Is it true? Are you the Marieka they talk about?"

"Soren," Stellan interrupted. "Don't…"

"No Stellan," she said. "It's…fine. I…yes. I am her. I'm the Dragonborn."

Soren nearly fainted from the revelation. Ralof's jaw dropped; his mouth opening wide. "Gods woman! You should have told me before. I'd never have teased you so much had I known you could shout me to death if you wanted to!"

"And you continue to tease, Captain?" she asked. "You really don't know what's good for you."

He smiled at her. "Marieka…Dragonborn…we are pleased to have you here with us. I tease because…it's what I do best."

"It really is," Stellan agreed. "To tell the truth, I have no idea how he became Captain. This fool of a man."

"Hey," Ralof protested. "I'm right here."

"I thank you all for your…interesting method of welcoming a person into your scouting party," she said. "But I expect your treatment of me will be no different from the rest of your soldiers."

"If that's what you wish," he replied, "then I can certainly treat you like every other grunt around here."

"That suits me just fine," she replied, smiling.

"Which means you can start peeling the potatoes for the stew we'll be making for lunch," he instructed, grinning at her.

She nodded. "Walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"You certainly did," he said, handing her a sack. "If you don't have a suitable knife, I'm sure we can find you one."

He smiled to himself, content that this woman – the Dragonborn herself – would be fighting at his side. Had fought by his side. And yet, was not above helping to prepare a meal for her fellow Stormcloaks. For all the powers that being the Dragonborn brought with it, she was humble…unassuming. She barely looked to be a threat to anyone.

But he recalled now seeing her fight when they entered the ruins at Korvanjund. And he remembered that she had shouted. He didn't really know what it was that he had seen at the time, but now it all made sense. She had a gift from the gods and was delivered directly into the hands of the Stormcloaks. They must have truly favoured the true sons and daughters of Skyrim to have sent the Dragonborn into their ranks.

He had no illusions about the dangers of the civil war he was entangled in. But at the very least, with the Dragonborn at his side – and essentially his command – his confidence increased by leaps and bounds. There was no way anything could possibly go wrong this day. The caravan would be ripe for the picking and his name would be remembered. It was all Ralof could ever have asked for.

He'd have to remember to thank her for it all later.



If he'd have ever told his men a fortnight ago – before they'd successfully taken the broken caravan with little resistance – that they'd all be standing victorious on the top of Fort Sungard that day, Ralof would have been laughed out of camp. Yet there he stood, listening to the cheers of the Stormcloaks as they celebrated their victory over the Imperials in the Reach.

He stood upon the southern rampart of the fort, surveying the destruction in the courtyard below. So much death. The Imperials fought hard, bringing an end to several Stormcloak soldiers before they met their own ends. Yet they prevailed. There were many injured rebels who fought bravely and stood until they could no longer do so. A small figure darted back and forth between them all. It was Marieka; she was handing out mixtures to heal their lesser wounds, and using her arcane abilities to attempt to heal some of the deeper, more grievous injuries. It seemed that the Bone-Breaker was actually quite the opposite of her title.

"Oye!" he called. "Dragonborn!"

She paused, spinning around to look up at him. "Captain! You survived!" she called back to him. "Shocking!"

"Bite your tongue, woman!"

Even from that height, he could see her smirk as she returned her attention to the soldier she was next to. Their short tenure together had seen them grow close on the battlefield. She continued to fall into his traps of wit and mischievous banter, but she never seemed to mind the teasing in the end. Why, he'd even begun to consider her a friend.

When she'd finished assisting those who required it, she ascended the stairs to the outer wall of the fort and approached Ralof. When she stood in front of him, he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Nice work out there," he said.

She nodded and looked up at him. "You too. The troops fight well under your command, Captain."

"It is a shame we lost some today," he replied. "We will return their bodies to their families. I'll see to that."

"I'd like to help you, if I can," she advised and he nodded.

He was about to continue, when a commotion from outside the gates of the fort sounded. They both looked down to see a young Nord on horseback, riding furiously into the courtyard.

"The Captain!" he called. "Where is the captain?"

"Up here, boy!" Ralof shouted down. The young man immediately dismounted and ran up the steps towards where they stood.

When he reached them, he pulled out a parchment and handed it to Ralof.

"I bring a message from Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak," he declared.

Ralof looked at Marieka, who shrugged in response. He unrolled the parchment and his eyes skimmed the message quickly. They widened as he read the letter.

"What is it, Ralof?" Marieka asked.

"A dragon," he replied. "A dragon has attacked Windhelm. Ulfric summons us there immediately."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she sighed. "I shall instruct the men to gather the bodies of the fallen, and then I'll prepare myself to leave."

He nodded and folded the parchment up. A dragon at Windhelm. What did it mean? Did the gods not favour the Stormcloaks after all? He hurried down the steps to prepare himself for departure as well. This was not good news. But at the very least, the Dragonborn would be there when he met with Ulfric. If anyone would be able to assist in this situation, it would be Marieka.

When she returned to his side, ready to set off for Windhelm, he saw the concern on her face. She was just as uncertain over what was to come as he was.

"I think it's time we set aside our differences with the Empire for a short while," he said. "There is a far bigger threat in these dragons than the Imperials could ever be to Skyrim."

She nodded. "We'd best hurry. Ulfric won't want to be kept waiting over this."

Ralof left Haakon in charge of the remaining troops and set off with Marieka on their long journey to Windhelm. So much uncertainty existed. He silently prayed to the gods that they'd see the Stormcloaks to victory over the Imperials…but first, that they'd allow them to survive the return of the dragons to Tamriel. And as he watched Marieka out of the corner of his eye, he knew that he wasn't the only one doing so.
A series of connected one shots of the Dovahkiin from the perspective of traveling companions, friends, lovers and those who attempted to cross her.

A/N: Okay, I just wanted another opportunity to link to this video, hence using this song in the beginning. But, it does relate nonetheless. Go check this out…it's the full opening credits to The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo…The Immigrant Song as interpreted by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. In-freaking-credible. [link]

Just another thank you to all the new folks along for the ride (through faves and watches), and my old faithful readers. Thank you all for your feedback, comments, reviews, PMs. I'm feeling the love…seriously. For those of you who don't know, I was in a bit of a snowmobile accident on the weekend, so the bulk of this chapter was precariously written with a laptop on one leg with the other one up on the back of the couch, and me…pumped full of painkillers. At least I've stopped with the wine for a bit.

Published simultaneously at ff.net.

Part of The Girl with the Voice collection.
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I beg for the end of life
Yet it does not come
I hate that I have no strife
This alone I must overcome

How hard I do try
To depart from the pack
Little is it known to I
This alone holds me back

I feel so much ‘pain’
Yet I know I shouldn’t
About my life I can’t complain
And if I could I wouldn’t

I sit alone each night
Until the mornings arrive
Imagining some fake plight
Which I must survive

My poetry to me seems strong
I put emotions into it
Fearing that it won’t be long
Before someone realizes I’m full of shit<b>
This is about emo kids... yeah
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Of the Dragonborn and fated days foretold.

(a newer version of an older song: liefesa.deviantart.com/art/Dov… )

:bulletpurple: tumblr
:bulletblue: Twitter
:bulletgreen: Commissions (art & poetry)

Art and Lyrics ©Liefesa
Original game and dragon language script ©Bethesda
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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.  That simply won’t do – you are a writer – you need an audience!

3. Plot is the driving force behind fanfiction.  Remember – the bigger the better.  People read Lord of the Rings because it had Frodo saving the world and defeating the evil Sauron so you must find something of epic proportions to match that.  How about Inuyasha teaming up with Legolas to fight Sephiroth for control of the universe?  Excellent.  

While these sort of plots are a staple of fanfiction, they are not the only option for an aspiring author.  Lists making fun of characters are always a viable option, as are “A Day in the Life Of ….”  Be sure to include plenty of recurring jokes – inside ones you share with your parakeet and your five year old brother are the best.  

4. Description is unnecessary.  Remember, the focus of a fanfiction is the plot/pairings, not how well you can write.  Imagery, metaphors, and symbolism only get in the way.  The most in-depth you will ever need to get with description is about one adjective per sentence.  Here is an example:

Good – Riku quickly swung his sword straight at Sora’s face.  “I hate you!” he yelled, angrily “You stole Leon from me!”

Bad – Riku threw himself into the attack, his sword a dark blur as it tore through the empty space between him and Sora.  “I hate you!” he cried, “You stole Leon from me!”

5. For characters, always use the main ones.  Everyone knows who Fred and George are; the audience isn’t going to be interested in ol’ Jor-something.  There is an added bonus to using characters that everybody knows already.  You don’t have to waste precious time that could be spent on the plot with characterization.  Why bother with those deep and meaningful moments that define the psyche of a character, or even the minute ones that give insights into their personality?  That’s the job of the original author, not yours.  All you do is put them into a new and insightful plot that no one has done before.

Another point to remember is that your characters always have the best stuff.  If you decide to write about Squall’s first year with SeeD make sure he has both his gunblade and the coolest summons in the game.  And by coolest I mean Bahamut.  

6. Know the lingo!  No fanfiction writer can consider himself/herself literate if he/she is not familiar with the various pairings and terminology that exists.  Some good terms to know:
a. Slash – method used to denote pairings of a romantic/physical nature.  Ex. Harry/Snape, Draco/Hermione.  Can also be used to denote the genre of a piece of fanfiction.
b. Bishonen – very hot male, often in a feminine way
c. Mary Sue – a term the elitist literary snobs use for your character.  Ignore them.
d. Yaoi – male on male pairings
e. M-preg – actually, I’m not going there.  You sickos.

7. Put yourself into the story.  There are two accepted means of doing this.  One is to put your literal self into the story – this is generally done for the sillier versions of stories as you can then run around throwing fish at people, as I’m sure you do in real life.  The second method is to make up a character based off of yourself.  If you are female your character will be utterly gorgeous, rich, powerful, talented in 89 different forms of fighting, and have powerful magics to boot.  The main characters will fall instantly in love with you.  After all, why would Cloud want that nasty old Aeris when compared to your character?  If you are male your character will be strong, handsome, and able to defeat an entire army with only his incredible cunning and a pointed stick.  All the attractive females will be swooning over him.  Remember, personality flaws are to be omitted.  This is your fanfiction, why would you want to portray yourself as anything other than perfect?

8. Remember, fanfictions exist to fulfill your own dreams and fantasies.  If you’ve always wanted to see Harry Potter and Ron Weasely get it on then by all means make that the focus of your story.  Don’t worry if the original author has made it clear that a character favors someone else/a different gender.  This is your fanfiction and therefore your world.  Feel free to re-write romance, sexual orientation, anything.  Wedding rings only last as long as the original author’s book does.  

Mortal enemies provide a wealth of fanfiction pairings.  The saying “keep your friends close and enemies closer” takes new meaning when writing fanfiction relationships.  By “closer” they mean bedroom sans clothing.  And remember – nothing is illegal in fanfiction.  It is perfectly acceptable for Sephiroth and Riku to have a physical relationship; statuary rape doesn’t exist in your version of Kingdom Hearts!

9. Blood is good.  Whenever a fight erupts you want to ensure that the combatants somehow lose their clothing and obtain a tasteful amount of wounds.  There is nothing better than a fanfiction involving shirtless and slightly bloodied characters.  Another means of obtaining the necessary violence is to put the characters at the mercy of another, especially if you combine captivity with slash.  Some good characters to play the role of captor are: an already established mortal enemy, a traitorous friend, a character that you introduce, and the character that represents yourself.  

Remember, no matter how badly you injure the main characters, they will recover.  The only time you want to actually kill off a character is so that the others can mourn his/her loss and swear vengeance.  Make sure that it’s an unimportant character that no one really cares about, like Hermione.  No one really likes that know-it-all.

10. If you cannot decide which work to write fanfiction for, consider a crossover.  These feature characters from one story taking a vacation to another story for unknown reasons and even unknown means.  The only thing that matters is that you get all your favorite characters into one piece!  This means more pairings, more hotness, and more characters for your character to run around glomping.  Besides, who wouldn’t want to see Link fighting side by side with Legolas?  Mmmm, sexy.
Suggested by ~shoelesswandere

~Sabreur is making me include this disclaimer. "If you actually believe in rules 1-10, please identify yourself to the genepool improvement association immediately."

There. I'm done. And remember - I write fanfiction myself. It is my tried and true method of beating writer's block.
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Nightmare

Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 Moveset:

Gender: Male

Species: Evil Spirit/Sword

Game Series: Soul Series

First Appearance: Soul Edge (1995)

Health: 1,050,000 HP Points

Voice Actor: Patrick Ryan

Power Ranking (Out of 7)

Intelligence: 3
Strength: 7
Speed: 5
Stamina: 5
Energy Projection: 5
Fighting Ability: 7

Assist Alpha: Soul Edge Guillotine (Direct, Tilt Down)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion
Assist Beta: Soul Edge Spear (Direct, Front)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion
Assist Gamma: Soul Wave (Direct, Instant)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion

Description:

There was a time when a man named Siegfried Schtauffen took control of the Soul Edge, becoming powerless under the power of the blade. He eventually was able to retrieve his mentality and used the power of the holy blade Soul Calibur in order to save his body. He was separated from his Nightmare form and became the new wielder of Soul Calibur, while Inferno made a pact with Zasalmel, who made him a new body of his own. Thus…Nightmare was born.

Entrance: Nightmare will have his back turned to his opponent. Then, swinging Soul Edge over his head, he'll turn around and get into his fighting stance.

Entrance Quotes:

#1: Give in to the Dark Abyss of Despair!

#2: Taste Fear!!~

#3: Tremble within my Darkness!!

#4: Your soul will soon become mine!

#5: My Power is absolute!

Against Ryu: Warrior of Legend…your soul shall be mine!

Against Akuma: Your soul is like that of my own…

Against Sentinel/Zero: Soulless being, be gone from my Sight!

Moves:

Attack Layout:

Ground Level

Standing Light: Sword Handle (51,000)

Standing Medium: High Kick (64,000)

Standing Light: Nightmare Gauntlet (80,000)

Standing Special: Soul Edge Upper Swing (90,000)

Crouched

Crouching Light: Low Kick (49,000)

Crouching Medium: Low Gauntlet (65,000)

Crouching Hard: Low Soul Edge Sweep (78,000)

Air Attacks

Air Light: Straight Kick (57,000)

Air Medium: Soul Edge Slash (70,000)

Air Hard: Soul Edge Slash #2 (80,000)

Air Special: Soul Edge Axe (90,000)

Unique Moves

Straight Stab (F + H) (85,000)

Nightmare Smash (F + M) (70,000)

Special Moves

NightMare Punch (Qcf + L) (90,000)

Charged with the powers of Soul Edge, Nightmare will do a straight punch charged with dark energy. The attack can stop fireballs if timed properly.

Soul Edge Guillotine (Qcf + M) (100,000)

Nightmare will bring down his Soul Edge on the opponent, the attack causing an OTG bounce and can stop projectiles.

Soul Edge Spear (Qcf + H) (110,000)

Nightmare's reach at its best. Nightmare will stick out his sword straight at the opponent. This attack can smash through any projectile in the game and takes up 2/3 of the screen in distance.

Knight Crusher (Dp + A) (140,000)

His standing Mashing Y/Triangle combo from SC4, Nightmare will smash down his sword a total of three times, the first two times causing a possible hit decay while the third strike causes a ground bounce.

Soul Crusher Side Slash (Qcb + L) (95,000)

Charged with electric blue soul power, Nightmare will swing his sword sideways, sending the opponent flying back. The attack can cancel out fireballs.

Soul Crusher Uppercut Slash (Qcb + M) (115,000)

Charged with electric blue soul power, Nightmare will uppercut his sword and the opponent with it. This attack can be air comboed into if the attack is timed right.

Soul Crusher Drop Kick (Qcb + H) (120,000)

Charged with electric blue soul power, Nightmare will do a double leg drop kick at the opponent, causing a wall bounce upon connecting with them.

Soul Wave (Down + Down + A) (100,000)

Nightmare will build up a large amount of energy within his body, then expelling it outward in a barrier-like burst. This attack causes an instant Wall bounce upon contact, even from the other side of the screen.

Hyper Combos

Flaming Souls (Qcf + AA) (300,000)

A quick one-hit armored Hyper combo, Nightmare will take Soul Edge in both hands and the blade will alight on fire. Nightmare will then lunge forward and uppercut it into the air, This attack has 2 hits of hyper armor and the flame lengthens the amount of distance on the hyper combo. This attack cancels out all projectile attacks and can even cancel out high priority hyper combos like C.Viper's Emergency Combination.

Soul Explosion (Dp + AA) (285,000)

Nightmare will charge Soul Edge with negative energy and do a lance stab with the sword, large amounts of dark energy flying around the sword as he does so, causing a large amount of combo damage.

Soul Destroyer (Down + Down + AA) (280,000)

A counter hyper combo, Nightmare will charge up a very large amount of energy within his body. If the opponent attacks him as he does so, he'll expel the energy outward in a shockwave, sending the opponent flying and causing a wall bounce.

Level 3: Critical Finish (Qcb + AA) (450,000)

Nightmare's Critical Finish from  is now his level 3 Hyper combo. The attack begins with an uppercut sword slash. If the attack connects with the opponent, Nightmare will throw his sword up into the air, which will air combo the opponent before bringing them back down into the ground. Soul Edge will then cause a giant area of dark energy to appear around the opponent as it combos them and explodes, ending the hyper combo.

Victory Pose:

Nightmare will take the Soul Edge in both hands, then raising it above his head, the sword shooting off Red Lightning from its tip into the air.

Victory Quotes:

#1: The Nightmare…will NEVER END!!

#2: Blood…Darkness…Come Unto Me!!

#3: Your souls…were rather good!

#4: Your Meager Souls are WORTHLESS!!!

#5: The Darkness is everlasting!!

#6: The End...is near!

Against Ryu/Akuma/Wolverine: Warrior…your soul shall surely satisfy me!

Assist Quotes:

Call Partner:

"Destroy!"

Switch-Out:

"Tremble in Fear!"

Last Person Switch Out:

"The Darkness is coming for you!!"

Color Scheme:

#1: Dark Blue

#2: Black

#3: Dark Red

#4: Dark Green

#5: Dark Brown

#6: Dark Purple

I hereby give Capcom full rights over this moveset and are welcome to use this in any way/shape/form that they desire.
"TREMBLE IN MY DARKNESS!!"

*Ahem* Well...I've been playing alot of Soul Calibur 4 lately and...well...I was tempted to make a moveset for possibly one of the best and coolest game villains ever, Nightmare from the Soul Calibur . This guy is one of the reasons I hope they expand to Namco vs. Capcom after Street Fighter X Tekken is done, for I'd use a team of Felicia and Nightmare (And Wesker if it's 3 vs 3) and be completely unstoppable! >8D

Anyways...enjoy everyone. :3
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Regret --

Many things I regret
I want to take them back
But it's too late
I can never take them back
They've already hurt me so much
What can I do now?



Inside this HELL --

Light fades away
Darkness takes over
My control is gone
I can't be free
Alone and trapped inside this hell
Why won't you save me?
Because it's too late
I'm gone
Lost forever in the darkness
More depressing emo poems I came up with. I've been more depressed than before lately.
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On the nature of Sithis
By Lily Surilie, a humble servant and a faithful daughter to our Dread Father and Unholy Matron

Everybody who has ever bothered to visit a library has surely noticed an outstanding number of researches dedicated to the Nine as well as to the Daedra, but hardly anyone has ever found a work uncovering the mystery of Sithis’s nature. This humble research was done to fill the regrettable gap in our theological knowledge. Some of my acquaintances were eager to prevent me from doing this research – part of them being convinced that the topic is of no interest, others believing the very idea would most surely rouse ire of our Dread Father. The former are very wrong for there is no such topic which is of no interest to a devout scholar, as for the latter… well, I shall be the first to know if Sithis is displeased with my work.

One of the first questions one faces when entering the Dark Brotherhood is: What is Sithis? The answers are numerous varying from “the cold dreadful Void, resembling of a starless night deep in Jerall mountains” to “a voice whispering in one’s ears when he (or she) fulfills the will of the Night Mother”. Both are true – in a way – and still are most probably not the whole truth. According to the scarce bits of information available, we may assert that Sithis is strongly associated with darkness, void and chaos; that he gets the souls of those killed in his name; that he is powerful enough to cast his Wrath upon infidels and traitors, but still needs a go-between to interact with the material plan of the Mundus, this intermediary being the Night Mother herself; that he belongs neither to the Aedra nor to the Daedra. The last statement seems to be of the particular interest, for it arouses another important questions: What are the origins of Sithis and How does he fit in the harmonious imperial theological system?

The history of Sithis’s worship is closely connected with the history of the Dark Brotherhood. Most scholars agree that originally the Dark Brotherhood was a small group that broke away from Morag Tong in the beginning of the Second Era. The following development of the Brotherhood is not to be discussed here, for it mainly concerns political strife throughout the history of Tamriel, but not the sources of Sithis’s cult. The most popular theory of the origin of Sithis is that He is an incarnation of one of the Daedric princes, presumably Methala. Indeed, this hypothesis has some convincing argument. First, Methala is a patron of secrets, sex, assassination and of art (apparently of sex and assassination). Her (though Methala is believed to be bisexual, this Daedrot is generally referred to as a she) sphere perfectly coincides with that of Sithis, except for sex. So it is quite intelligible why Sithis is sometimes supposed to be a personification of the masculine nature of Methala. Second, it is Methala who is also believed to be the Morag Tong’s patron. As the Dark Brotherhood has once been a sect within Morag Tong, it’s natural to presume that, again, Sithis is only some kind of Methala’s misinterpretation.

However, due to the evidence I managed to find in some rare sources, I am convinced that the “Methala avatar” version is not true. According to Tarnatos Manuscripts, recently discovered by Nohept dir’Camal, Sithis came to existence when a nihilist Kimer sect of Psjjjjic order united Daedric elements with Ineffable Action under the Methala’s supervision. Thus Sithis is somehow connected with Psjjjj, which is a special notation of unknowable and inexpressible notion of Primeval Chaos – or Padomai (generally it is said that Psjjjj is not Padomai, but some unintelligible action by Anu – still I am not going to discuss this most complicated topic here). This seems quite a convincing hypothesis, especially if you keep in mind that the most probable etymology of our Dread Father’s name, “Sithis”, also lies in originating from “psjjjj”.

Here comes the time for my guess-works. Common theory is that there are two initial essences, Anu, the Light and Order, and Padomai, the Darkness and Chaos. My idea is that Anu is the Light and Padomai is the Darkness all right, nevertheless, the chaos-order opposition is, so to say, square with light-darkness couple. Hence there is a “lawful darkness” as well as a “chaotic light”. To my mind, Sithis is a substance of chaotic darkness – or cold void, “willing to kill the Mundus” (Tarnatos Manuscript, 27:14), while Daedra are creatures of lawful darkness.
So, finally I have said it. I am quite prepared for the flow of criticism, which is likely to pour down on my head, but I am not going to change my mind in favor of more popular and widespread theories. Dixi.
Here it is, an article about Sithis by Lily Surilie, my Oblivion charachter. I've tried hard to copy an awful style, in wich most of the research papers are written. Hope I've succeeded. =D

Of course, Oblivion, Sithis etc. are all Bethesda's inventions, blah-blah-blah.

As for the information given in this article, it is quite truthworthy, because I DID a research. I've read something on Psjjjjic order and all the stuff, and the "Tarnatos Manuscript" mentioned above is among the supplementory information provided by the TES IV creators.

Enjoy!
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It was the summer of 1957, and the night was calm and warm.  The storm clouds from earlier were now just a few harmless puffs on the horizon, but the air still held a faint scent of sweet rain.  A light breeze danced through the woods just outside of town, rustling the leaves of the oaks and maples and birches.  And within these woods were two travelers, seemingly following some unseen path through the growth.

“Come on, it’s just a little bit farther,” called the man in the lead.  He had short, scruffy, sandy brown hair and wore large, squarish glasses over his big sky blue eyes. He picked his way through the thick underbrush with an air of someone who had done it many time before.  The woman behind him, however, wasn’t having the same amount of luck.

“I sure hope this it worth it, Will!” shouted the petite Asian woman as she pulled her shirt free of another branch.  “I don’t know how much longer my clothes can last out here.”  She paused to untangle a strand of red-highlighted hair from a bush. “Or my hair.”

The man scoffed. “Pfft. It’s not like you don’t have enough clothes.  And besides, we’re here.”  Then he stepped out into a small clearing.

The woman followed him, glad to be rid of those pesky branches at last.  She swept her blouse and skirt free of any remaining leaves, then looked up at her surroundings.  And her heart leaped into her throat when she saw what was growing in the clearing.

“Happy Birthday, Cyphae,” said the man happily.

Peonies. Hundreds of beautiful white peonies were nestled in that tiny clearing in the middle of the woods.  The moonlight shone down in shafts between the tree branches, making the flowers seem to glow in the night.  The scene was absolutely beautiful to her; almost too good to be true.

She had never seen so many flowers in one place before.  Her eyes moved across the space, trying to take it all in.  “Did… did you do all this?” she whispered, afraid that anything louder would break the magic and send all the flowers blowing away.

Will smiled.  “Yeah.  I know peonies are your favorites, so I just thought it might make a nice small present for my best friend’s birthday.  It took a while to find a spot far enough away from town so no one would steal the flowers, and it took a long time to save up to buy all the flowers, but it was worth it.  I know it’s not much, but - ”

He was suddenly cut off by a tight hug from Cyphae.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  It’s the most beautiful birthday present ever.”  Her violet eyes sparkled with joy.

Will beamed and returned the hug.  “C’mon, I got a couple of Cokes hidden in the bushes.  They’re not cold or anything, but I couldn’t exactly plug a fridge in out here, could I?”

Cyphae chuckled and joined him for a soda.

They sat amongst the flowers and talked for about an hour.  Then Cyphae sighed and laid back in the grass, basking in the moonlight.  Will followed suit, and they both laid there and gazed at the stars for a while.

“I’m so happy I met you, Will,” Cyphae said suddenly.  “My people don’t make many friends apart from other members of our… ah… species.” She paused at the last word like it was a curse word.  A short silence followed before she continued.  “They say that humans are dangerous, and that we’re better off sticking to ourselves.  But I don’t care.  I know that you’d never do anything to hurt me.” She smiled as she finished that sentence, her violet eyes beaming as well.

“Of course I wouldn’t, Cyphae!” Will responded quickly.  “Let your family say what they will.  Eventually they’ll see that I mean you and your people no harm.”

Cyphae smiled contently.  “Will… Promise me that we’ll be friends forever. Even when we’re old and have our own husbands and wives and kids, promise that we’ll always stay friends.”

“I promise, Cyphae,” the man answered.  “Even when we’re old,” he finished with a quirky smile.  Then he picked off a nearby peony and sniffed it, taking in the scent.  “Even after all these flowers die.”

Suddenly, a voice broke through the trees.  “Well, I’m terribly sorry to burst in on this sweet moment, but I have some important business to attend to with that young lady there.”

Cyphae and Will sat up and looked around for the source of the voice.  Soon enough, a man in his mid-30’s stepped out into the open.  He had sleek black hair, a square jaw, he wore a gray suit that looked more suited for a business meeting than the middle of the woods, and held a black cane in his left hand.  It was obvious he didn’t need it.  The words “vanity cane” suddenly sprang to mind.

“Who are you?” Will asked as he and Cyphae got to their feet. “And what do you want with Cyphae?”

The man chuckled lightly.  “Oh Will, you of all people should know why I’m here for her.  After all, you know her secret.”  He paused for a moment. “As do I.”

The woman’s eyes suddenly widened with fear.  Will didn’t… He couldn’t have! He swore he wouldn’t tell anyone!

The man continued speaking.  “But let’s not dilly-dally any more.  I simply want to take what I want and then I’ll get out of your hair.  Just don’t try to run, Cyphae…” He dropped his voice to an almost inaudible whisper.  “My little dragon.”

Then there were men everywhere around them.  They ran silently from the dark woods, carrying ropes and chains and knives.  And they were all headed towards Cyphae.

Cyphae’s body suddenly began to glow and shift.  She seemed to become a tiny white star, glowing bright as the sun.  She got brighter and brighter as her body continued to change.  And then, less than a second later, the star faded to reveal a sleek silver Eastern dragon.

The dragon instantly took to the air, out of the men’s reach.  “Will!” she shouted. She looked around for her friend so she could snatch him up and take him with her to safety.  Her eyes quickly scanned the area, searching desperately for him.  But Will was nowhere in the tiny clearing.

Then she felt something around her tail pull her downwards.  She realized it was one of the ropes and tried to fly back upwards, roaring in defiance. But as soon as she was back within the humans’ reach, more ropes and chains followed, sailing over her back and pulling her closer and closer to the ground.  She was soon pinned to the dirt, struggling and growling menacingly against her restraints.  But the men that held her were strong and held the ropes fast.  One man sat on the back of her head and managed to duct tape her jaws together like a crocodile’s.

Her eyes were still searching wildly for Will when the man in the gray suit stepped forward and kneeled by her head.

“Looking for your friend?” the man shook his head.  “Tsk tsk.  My dear, didn’t you realize? It was your friend that led us here in the first place.  He’s long gone by now. Probably to go pick up that hefty reward we left him for your capture.  But don’t worry. I told you we’d let you go once I got what I wanted.”  

He pulled out a vicious-looking hunting knife from inside his jacket.

“I’m sorry to have spoiled your birthday, my dear,” the man said with no sympathy in his voice.  He raised the knife above Cyphae’s head.  “But it looks like checkmate for you.”

And then the dragon roared in pain and betrayal as the blade was brought down across her left eye.

~~~

When the sun came up the next morning, both the men and the dragon were gone.  

All that was left as evidence of the night before were hundreds of white peonies, trampled and covered with blood.
And so it begins!

I decided that I had enough of a solid story to begin writing it. =) So I spurted this out last night at 1 in the morning. I was surprised that I still liked it in the morning. xD

I'm pretty excited to finally begin writing this. The story's changed a bit since I wrote the "Sneek Peek" scene though, so don't expect things to match up with that.

I like picturing Will as a stereotypical-looking nerd with freckles. It amuses me. ^_^

Oh, and I've had that logo figured out for two years now.
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This is a bard song for Skyrim.

It is lore-friendly: these events did happen in the canon lore of the Elder Scrolls.

I thought that the past deeds of both the Stormcloaks and the Empire could do with a bit more emphasis in the game; especially if you want to make an informed decision when joining the civil war...

This has the same rhyme scheme as existing in-game songs, such as Ragnar the Red or The Age of Aggression/Oppression.

:bulletgreen: Art and poetry commissions are open! - details here.
:bulletpurple: tumblr

Art and Lyrics ©Liefesa
Original game ©Bethesda
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