Piercing"A-aah! Duff!"Piercing4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Sorry It's cold, I know Just stay still, okay, Izz?"
"Why do you have to use that?" the brunette whined.
Duff smirked up at him. "What, do you want me to just push it in there, no preparation at all?"
"No " Izzy averted his eyes. "But do you have to do it this way?"
"Sorry, it's the only way I know how." The blonde gave him an apologetic look. "Now get ready, I'm gonna push it in."
Izzy steeled himself against the pain he knew was coming, even though Duff had done all he could to minimize it. He was gritting his teeth so hard that his gums were starting to hurt. His knuckles were white from the force with which he gripped the counter. His eyes were shut tight.
"Alright," Duff said, catching the older man off guard.
"I-it's in..?" Izzy asked.
The bassist rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's in."
Izzy opened his eyes and looked in the mirror, then grinned w
31 years.31 years.3 years ago in Horror More Like This
He walked out of the Limo silently, as his wife Yoko passed him to the reception area of the Dakota. He sauntered across the street to his apartment building, surprised no fans were anywhere. When he reached the cold concrete of the sidewalk, he felt two eyes boring into him, as if they could see his soul. He turned to see a young man, maybe twenty-five, gazing at him. He slowly turned his head back, a little uncomfortable, and looked at his watch. 10:51. He just wanted to get home to his son Sean, and rest.
"Mr. Lennon!" He spun to the direction of the voice but saw no one, and he suddenly felt a sharp sting on his back.The place where the pain started began to feel warm and wet against his shirt. His hand started to reach to that sharp pain, but never attained it's destination, for another sharp sting was sent through his body from his back.It was as if his legs no longer wanted to carry him,because he sank as three more pricks echoed in his body. Out of the corner of his eye he saw
Encore for a Fallen StarWith biting teeth and a savage grip, the coldness of this evening digs into the marrow of my bones, infusing each and every one of them with a heaviness that promises not to fade unnoticed into the past. When I close my eyes, it demands that I recall those drunken, empty promises whispered during the thickness of a winter's night. Our own icy breaths and the constellations above were the only witnessesand if the stars disapproved then they did not comment, remaining blissfully silent and considerate enough to refrain from intruding on those stolen hours that we both craved with every blink of our glossed-over, all-seeing but sight-less eyes.Encore for a Fallen Star3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
We whiled away those delirious, moon-struck, dream-dazed minutes envisaging maybes and cannot bes, craving to connect the parallels of our separate existences that would always be jagged around the edges, doomed to never quite fit in a way that wouldn't leave us (or perhaps, I think now, only me) terminally bloodied and scarred
Night CattleShe owns her flesh.Night Cattle3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Old goddess, beautiful decay-
draping along the length of her bones
like a Shakespearean sonnet.
When the graveyard lurkers
come to pray upon a carcass,
they will howl their mournful sorrow
to the earth below their claws.
Devouring her, respectfully.
She, with an aged bird spirit:
unable to be caged.
My Sweet InsanityMy Sweet Insanity1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Laugh come on it's fun.
After I am laughing
With this twisted smile
As I imagine your death.
The red blood dripping
From the lovely silver knife
As your screams pierce through
The night and slowly fade away.
Don't worry, and close your eyes
It'll be over soon.
I'll be nice to you
But you have wronged me greatly
So I'm sorry you have to die.
It would have changed
If you had been nice to me.
Who's laughing now?
The shame is that if
We were friends, and someone hurt you
In any way, minor or major
I would have done something to them
Maybe the same of what happened to you.
I am chased in my dreams
By my inner demons
That whisper to me at night
"Keep on smiling."
They say Revenge is a double edge knife
I can't believe them,
Because I know I did what was right.
And I still remember
Where that girl lays
And I still have the knife
That slain her
And I still remember her
Beautiful screams before she died.
No one knows it is me
After all I'm always smiling
And laughing, and ever so sweet
Just Like We Were a Thousand Years AgoWe’re dying.Just Like We Were a Thousand Years Ago3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
More than two thirds of the population, coughing, writhing and swelling. Black knobs squeeze bloody under chin, arm and thigh. Foam bubbles at mouth. Most aren’t found until their eyes pop from the pressure and ants pick pieces of blue white skin. Where whole towns succumb, they are never found at all.
It’s the bubonic plague. Black Death. Come again. Just like it did a thousand years ago.
But it’s different now, indestructible, and white coats produce a new needle every week. Tommy got jabbed but did him no good. After that we kept ourselves back from the white coats and their followers. Cause they can’t find the cure.
Just like they couldn’t a thousand years ago.
Instead we walk. Outrun the wave. Never speak to anyone we don’t know. Keep our faces covered and avoid all towns, cities, villages, homes. But not alone. Others march. Leave a place at the first whisper of death. Never look back. Don’t let anyone near. Out
A Brief Guide to Dialog TagsPart of being an aspiring writer is receiving feedback, and a big part of getting feedback is giving it. I've belonged to several critique sites over the years, including but not limited to deviantART (which, while a good site, leaves much to be desired if your goal is useful feedback on lengthly prose), Critique Circle (which is a great site, but I started to have trouble keeping up with the queue), and Scribophile (which is useful, but unfortunately much of the useful bits for novel-writers require that you sign up for the premium membership).A Brief Guide to Dialog Tags5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
However, the point of this post isn't to analyze the various websites out there, but rather to emphasize a piece of common advice I've found myself giving lately. It's about something that should be simple, but isn't: dialog tags.
Something that should really be as easy as she said gives a lot of people trou
. finding atlantissometimes, in my dreams, i can breathe underwater.. finding atlantis3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i wonder if you can too.
- - -
we live in this desert disguised as a city, a world where pretty purple houses aren't houses but bits of broken glass stacked elaborately with the most innocent of lies and the best worst intentions. a world where the people aren't people at all but glorified ghosts shifting in and out of one hollow limbo to the next and the next and the next.
i've just about used up my last wasted weekend with all the other wasted some-bodies and no-bodies. it's all chalked up to this: the realization that we can't escape our cancerous city who sucked the life right out of us and exhaled it back to the sea where it keeps all the passion and wonder and beauty locked in a chamber of foam and mist just beyond the coastline, just out of reach.
we all want to see atlantis but the sad truth of the matter is we can't (won't) hold our breath long enough to swim there, and would we remember how even if we could? they say it's
Teen Dead in 2-Vehicle Rollover Crash"Make safe and wise choicesTeen Dead in 2-Vehicle Rollover Crash3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because I care about you
and I want to see you on Monday."
My ninth grade English teacher
would tell us this every Friday.
Ever since one of her students
went out for a fun weekend
and never came back.
I never got it.
Well, I did
but not really.
It was just a reminder
that we weren't immortal,
that our actions had consequences.
As my Latin teacher would say.
I knew this.
I learned this.
Those before me taught me well.
The guy two years ahead of me
who fell four stories off a stairway banister.
The day my section leader
shipped out to Afghanistan.
The phone call desperately asking me
how an eighteen year old girl
could go to sleep and not wake up.
I got it.
I am not made of steel.
I cannot leap tall buildings in a single bound.
What I didn't get was why she said it.
Why she felt it was that important,
like if she didn't say it we would forget.
I think I understand now.
Reading the words:
"landed in the ditch,"
"teen was pi
Of Love Letters and Cracked PorcelainShe writes to him. Every day she writes to him thousands of letters, scrawled on lined paper, lunch bags, the backs of her homework assignments. Whole books, she writes, entire epics, tragic love stories.Of Love Letters and Cracked Porcelain3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Her fingers are perpetually stained with ink.
She doesn't begin every letter with "dear", though that's what he is to her. She knows he knows. Knows she loves him. Knows he is wanted, needed, cherished. Her one and only, forever and always. She tells him about her days, sends pictures of her sister, her mother, herself. She loves each letter to pieces, so it's wrinkled and stained and torn a little by the time it's finished.
They were childhood friends before they were lovers. He was a year or so older, an inch or two taller, an older-brother type for the first thirteen years of her life, before he grew into his body and she into hers. Relics of their combined childhoods clutter her bedroom, piling up on the bookshelf, the desk. On her walls hang the crayon drawings, fifteen ye
Insomnia...?Sleep evaded him like dew evaporating in the midday sun. Picturesque views of calm sunsets mixed with the smell of coriander caressed his mind, his closed eyes like the taut canvas of a fresh easel. His mind felt ready to be painted, but there was no artist, no creator to delve into the recesses of his subconscious and reveal the dreams he so desperately desired. And, all the while, the hours wove their terrible tendrils as the night slowly progressed.Insomnia...?3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
No. Sleep would not come to him tonight. It was resolute in its decision to alienate him for a time. He scowled, even with his eyes shut, as he imagined its face, if it could have one, grinning as it denied the rest his soul craved.
He asked himself why this was the case, an attempt to pass the time as much as it was an attempt to find any answers. Maybe it was his sloppy work ethic. Perhaps it was dietary, or the fruit of a lack of exercise. It could have been looming deadlines casting shadows over his once clear peace of mind, any sunl
Always the CoffeeParked in agony, he spent his time looking in mirrors and staring into her absence. The reality of her departure was almost bearable, but the loss of her ideal lay in far deeper waters than he could ford.Always the Coffee3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
All inanimates seemed to lose their liking for him: toast less crisp, pencils harder to sharpen, and socks never stayed paired. Toilet tissue was now undoubtedly too thin. He would swear that the traffic lights, in their now longer phases of angry red, blamed him for her absence and were determined to let him sit in his own poisonous fumes at every intersection.
His misspent hopes of a child, one who would have his temperament and her smile, filled an empty second bedroom he didn't have.
It was when the coffee lost its perk, falling between bitter and listless, that he began to formulate action. He gathered change for the laundromat, found his best clothes, and cleaned them up. After a shower and shave, he donned his be
Novel Soundtrack GuideThis guide is for helping with getting some inspiration for novel. If you are like me, you need something to listen to while writing but sometimes what come up on your playlist isn't exactly what you need. The solution? Make your novel's soundtrack. Soundtrack you say? I'm a writer not a composer. Well yes I know that. Just work with me here.Novel Soundtrack Guide4 years ago in Sketches More Like This
First things first. What moods and motivations are in your novel/scenes? Gooey Romance? Deep introspective thought? Hurt? Sadness? Horror? Keep them in mind as you're picking your songs.
For example purposes, I am using my first novel Always on this Carousel. I have two categories I generally put my songs into but you can create your own for your own writing style and purposes.
First are my Character Songs. They generally describe my characters in some way or have particular emotion that relates to their motivation. Just start going through your music library if you don't know some off the top of your head. Listen to the lyrics and see if they go
Taken (Viking! Denmark x Reader) 03Not one word was uttered as the 4 vikings lead _____ back to the village. The bright and sunny day had turned into a very cloudy and gray day, literately. The young maiden looked up at the sky and watched as the dark clouds rolled in from across the ocean, and she was pretty sure it was something the invaders had brought with them.. it had to be. A small lump formed in her throat as they approached the little village, the same village that earlier this morning was bubbling with life.. was now bleak and quiet. The villagers were still huddled together in the middle of the square as if they were barn animals or something. The (h/c) could feel their eyes watch her as she walked past them, she tried her very best not to make eye contact, but that was easier said than done. They all looked so scared and worried, which considering the circumstances, was quite understandable. The viking lead the young woman past the crowd in the direction of the docks, but she came to a sudden halt when her eTaken (Viking! Denmark x Reader) 032 years ago in Romance More Like This
Any Other WayI stood in utmost turmoil before the King, dejected for what I had seen, and ashamed for what I had not done. In silence, I waited for the Queen to speak, knowing that only she could deliver the judgement sentence.Any Other Way3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"I recognize now, the taint that stains your hands, and mars your soul. You, you who have sworn to a life of purity and honor have spilt blood."
The words were calm, collected, not even cold, but I knew in that moment that I had been discovered, my fate sealed. "What have ye done, that ye felt it necessary to take such drastic action?"
Even before she had finished the question, I already knew that she would not hear my answer. No one would, for my choice had been dire, no matter the reasoning behind it.
"My lady, you would not hear to the answer, even if I were to give it... "
I spoke the truth, and the Crown knew it, though they were loathe to admit it.
With a nod from the King, the guards stepped forward once more to drag me to the black cell that would be my l
CheckmateCheckmate3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
High and mighty, you sit on your throne.
Looking down on us all.
Have you completely forgotten?
The highest have the furthest to fall.
You're hubris is a mask.
You're royalty just an act.
On the inside you're an equal.
That's the hidden fact.
There you stand so tall.
You think you're oh so strong
But you only have more power
Than a measly pawn.
You are upset
By the littlest tremor.
I'll defeat you.
I'll be the winner.
I'll cut you off.
Put you in your place.
You think its your victory?
That's certainly not the case.
There's nowhere to run.
Time for the final blow.
You officially lose.
Taken (Viking!Denmark x Reader) 02At that moment, everyone stopped shouting and turned completely silent. The villagers looked at each other and a soft mumble started to spread out between them.Taken (Viking!Denmark x Reader) 022 years ago in Romance More Like This
“____? Are they after her?” one of them asked.
“Why?” another whispered.
“What do they want with her?” a man muttered. ____ could hear her name being whispered and murmured by the people, and so could the Vikings. A sly smile spread across the tall one's face as he captured the maiden's name. He took a few steps closer to the group of people and pulled his sword out from under his long brown cape. He looked at one of the whispering peasants and pointed the tips of sword directly at the poor fisherman's throat. The man who had sold her the fish earlier that morning looked at the stranger with a terrified look in his eyes, the blonde was a little bit taller than the old man and he had to cover his eyes from the sun as he looked up at him.
“So.. I take____ is the maiden's name?” the
Journey to ValhallaJourney to Valhalla:Journey to Valhalla3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The sound of battle surrounds me
As axe and sword will clash.
The fate of a man decided
In a single metal flash.
On the ground I lay awakened
For the blood is rushing low.
It bursts from my wound
In a searing bloody flow...
I scream like a raging animal
As with the last of strength I thrust!
My sword will pierce his lung
As my enemy turns to dust...
A ruined body before me
Cold as the winter snow.
I begin to feel quite dizzy
As the heavens start to glow.
I can hear the sound of horses
And the cry of hungry crows.
The clouds began to part
As from the ground we rose!
Like warriors from the grave
We stood from where we fell.
Warm as though we bathed
In an ancient seer's spell.
I can see him coming now
Sleipnir has arrived!
He's come to take us home
The valiant dead who died.
The valkyries riding through the clouds
On the backs of crows they call.
The gods themselves are smiling
As mountains they are tall!
These tears cannot express
The words we wi
Pomegranate Seeds Persephone hugged her knees as the cold stone she sat upon slowly numbed her. Never before had she noticed stone, having spent her life in fields and meadows. Wide open spaces, the soft flowing grasses, the cool shade of the trees, the warm soil, and the heat of the sun warming the hard stone. If she ever was able to see the surface again, she would never view rocks the same.Pomegranate Seeds4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Light from the torches flickered, giving some illumination to the otherwise black room. In her meadows at home, if it were ever this dark, she could look up at the stars and the moon. Night was something she never feared, but this darkness now haunted her. It was inescapable. Helios would not ride across the Tartarus sky bringing light to this world of death. No one ever escaped Hades and the Underworld. Persephone was no goddess. She was a demi-god, daughter of Demeter an
Ashes! Ashes! We All Fall Down. Petr Novikov was dead before he hit the floor.Ashes! Ashes! We All Fall Down.4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Aleksey froze; he'd heard the bang, and for one heart-stopping moment he thought he'd been shot too. But he quickly realized the only thing that hit him was blood. Petr's blood. The slightly cloying smell of iron and salt met his nostrils before he even saw it.
Cautiously, he crawled towards Petr, squinting through the dim light of the room. His stomach lurched as he took in the gaping hole in the dead man's forehead. The amount of red it released was unbelievablesome had even splattered onto the walls. Bile rose in Aleksey's throat. He'd seen gore and bloodshed on an almost daily basis, but it didn't make him any less revolted now.
The once-brawny Petr now looked weak, his face gaunt, his eyes open and unfocused. Aleksey was left staring down at his comrade's empty shell.
He didn't wan
England x Reader - Matrimonial Technical HitchesEngland x Reader - Matrimonial Technical Hitches1 year ago in General Fiction More Like This
“I keep playing your part
But it's not my scene
Want this plot to twist
I've had enough mystery” - Sitting, Waiting, Wishing, Jack Johnson
[f/n] didn’t know what to do.
The last few weeks had been chaotic, to say the least.
After going out of the country and faced the whole boring official procedure of getting her passport authorized. She did expect that being the human representation (or at least part of it) of the said country would guarantee that those small steps could be overlooked but apparently, no, she had to face lines and enormous piles of papers. The girl finally had chance to visit somewhere interesting, since America had decided to celebrate the 4th of July in Vegas (a great idea in her view) when things started to go wrong.
First, she had, at much cost of her part, managed to take her best friend (and current source of all her troubles, but she’d get to that part) a few days earlier, to enjoy what the town had to offer. Arthur h
Persephone and Hades CH. VII The servant showed us to my new rooms, set the trunk down, and left quickly without a word. The one thing I noticed about Olympus servants and Hells slaves was that in Hell, the slaves were bound there but they had more spark to them. Here the servants worked because they were children of demi-gods and knew their place, so much so that they never spoke. Mother wandered around, checked the dresser, and then turned to the trunk that I had brought with me from Hell. Well just see how well he dresses you. She said shortly and threw the trunk open. The first thing she touched was the Persian black silk Hades had found somehow and given to me.Persephone and Hades CH. VII6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Goodness. Where in the world did her ever find this? she gasped and ran her hands through
Russia x Reader - ParachutesRussia x Reader - Parachutes 2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Russia x Reader - Parachutes
The wind screamed through the door. [f/n] shivered. It almost seemed human. She looked around the interior of the plane. There were boxes spread around the edges, and a few parachutes hanging loosely in one of the corners. They were intact, a fact that shouldn’t be so surprising if they weren’t in a plane. One that was flying too close to the ground for her liking.
“We can’t keep this too long!” she heard Arthur yell above the storm. [c/n] couldn’t agree more. She was very fond of observing the sky in all of its fazes. Whenever [f/n] could, she would stop and admire it. There was never an ugly cloud or a color she didn’t considered beautiful. No one would know it better than her. But, despite all her love, she much rather preferred enjoy it feeling her feet on steady ground.
Then again, she didn’t have much right to say what she wanted or not. They were in a war, her allies needed her and her boss made h