A drop in the ocean (delena ver.) ch. 1When Elena Gilbert was seventeen years old, she found out she had a disease called endometriosis. The doctors told her that she'd soon be infertile, so she made the decision to have a sperm donor and go ahead with having a child. When she looked at the donor list and picked out Damon Salvatore, she never in a million years guessed she'd end up married to his brother three years later.A drop in the ocean (delena ver.) ch. 13 years ago in Romance More Like This
Stefan Salvatore, the wealthiest businessman in America, had made a headfirst slide into Mystic Falls, Virginia on a bad bet. His boss, Lexi Branson, had sent him and his business partner Katherine Peirce, to board at Stefan's old family house and expand their business to the southern states. About eight weeks later the company was ready to open their new office and Stefan and Katherine went to Mystic Falls Grille to celebrate, where Stefan became instantly smitten by a young brunette who was helplessly attempting to get her young twins to eat. No wedding ring meant no rules, and he quickly ditched Kather
astrology.i lost my cigarettes today whileastrology.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sparing kisses to too many witches
with apastron blackberry tongues.
& like the scattered stars of scars,
saturn's rings whispered secrets
to the telescope eyes of these strangers
cradling galaxies between lovely bones-
( their fingertip heat
knowing nothing of intermissions. )
Alone, not LonelyI'm jealous that she doesn't have friendsAlone, not Lonely3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She sings herself to sleep, but wakes up in song
She forgets to need the comfort of company
Company is complicated and confining and confronting
Colourful questions come from quiet isolation
While the loud outside world has produced famine and darkness
Where once there was abundance and light
Sometimes I wonder if she even notices...
I wonder what she thinks of, who, if at all
Perhaps it's a great nothingness, all-consuming
Yet hopefully lonely and joyously solitary
Is it the books that she reads, the very words?
Or perhaps the silence of reading is an excuse
A cover under which to retreat into her own mind
Sometimes I wonder if she even notices...
There's a certain silence about music, quiet or loud
White noise receeds and the voices in your head retreat
She doesn't seem depressed in conversation or even uncomfortable
She vacations in loud arguments with still louder people
Yet relaxes only on her lonesome, even while I watch
How to Write a Short Story 'I am the short story writer,' Announced Death, her blue eyes flashing, 'I work only within tragedy and romance, with the crows and the sinners, for they are easier to condemn. Short stories cannot be complicated, though they can be happy. I can unite lovers, and I can separate them. The story of life must be short, sweet, a few careful lines. It must swim with words like nuances, and nacreous, to add flair and a dash of intellectual salt to my inky soup. My characters, my playing pieces, will remain unnamed, so that I run no risk of growing attached and extending their ill-fated tale. Tears must fall in new and original ways. There cannot be any clichés in a short life, for that would be a waste, would it not? Words must be made to dance like music, and sentences have to possess the grace of lyrics, for that is the only way to truly capture a soul.'How to Write a Short Story3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Life frowned, and adjusted his mortarboard of clouds, 'If that is the case, then I must be an author o
Call Me Cicatricein a sloping curve, the scar covered his backCall Me Cicatrice3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
like an indefinite symbol of defiance. puckered
at the ridges, slithering across his shoulder blades, it was
something special in the way it interrupted his skin
/chronicle incomplete/ I reached out to touch it,
he caught my hand "you always did find beauty
in the broken." they always had more stories to tell.
I was something inexperienced (but never innocent).
I fell for his natural enjambments and
inability to meet my eyes. he fell for
the fact I was freshly born (but never young).
our first kiss was under a sycamore tree
that watched the world pass by. he said
he wanted to steal away my words, I knew
he was trying not to collapse. the tree
stood on as our lives expanded into something
entirely new, but exactly the same. "we always
try to build new beginnings to find a way
back to our firsts." but resets don't work.
he held his head highest on the days the sky was low,
for a reason he'd never explain /reminiscent/
I told him, onc
Makorra Week: BalanceAt first it's easy. She knows the South Pole. They sneak off to hidden spots she's learned over the years. There's meetings in her bedroom in the compound and firsts they share.Makorra Week: Balance3 years ago in Romance More Like This
They'd never sparred fire to fire. She's controlled chaos and he's ridged ferocity. Immediately she can tell he's had very little formal training, his technique is elementary at best but he makes up for it in creativity. Neither can anticipate the other's next move.
They end up laughing on the ground and kissing as flurries swirl around them.
On the boat back to Republic City they're sneaky. Tenzin purposely made sure their rooms are far away from each other even though he's traveling on Oogi.
Korra learns where all the creaky spots are on the way to Mako's room. Mako learns the rotation of the sailors who monitor the halls.
The voyage is full of shared meals and shared beds and annoyed looks from Bolin and
So I amI feel deadSo I am3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the tree outside my window,
says I am,
so I must be.
I like lillies to bloom in winter
and for the sun to live in the clouds,
so as not to burn my skin
or leave me in the cold.
This morning I forgot to breathe,
as I woke up, I choked.
It was not unpleasent,
I was just surprised.
You could not feel the moisture
on my face
as it began to rain because,
I feel dry
and the weatherman said it was,
so it must have been,
so I am.
Drawn to you. Chapter one, Tahnorra.Title: Drawn to you.Drawn to you. Chapter one, Tahnorra.3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
My first fiction written as a request for a friend, who after seeing Aicosu (Amazing cos-player's look them up) Decided that there was not enough Tahnorra feels in the world. Avatar Korra is new to town and looking for something, Tahno is an arrogant narcissist with a swearing problem. Some how they seem to be drawn to each other and this is their story.
Story © 2012 Allonym.
Tumblr account: Allonymph.
FanFiction account: Allonymph.
Feel free to email me prompts.
Korra and characters of The Legend of Korra are © to Nickelodeon.
Bold/Italic = Speech.
Italics = Thought.
Authors note at the bottom of the page.
I had never felt so independent, the memories of a life spent behind impenetrable walls, under constant scrutiny and strict training regimes had finally come to an end, after only a few short days the world knew of Avatar Korra.
Republic City's people chanted my name
PalmistryI always look at my hands too closely, tracing the creases as though they really could tell me the future.Palmistry3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They say that the future is in our hands, but my hands are full of asymptotes, potential paths that never quite cross and taper off into infinitely smaller lines that go somewhere I can't follow.
Painted BluePainted BluePainted Blue3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Not again!" Korra cried with a groan as she put her hands over her face, "What's the matter?" Bolin asked with raised eyebrows, Korra sighed loudly and dramatically and looked over at him and Mako with a pout, "I have to go to ANOTHER party... it's some traditional thing for All Spirits Day, the only fun part is it's a masquerade so I get to wear a costume but... other than that... blegh..." she said with a wrinkled nose, Bolin blinked, "All Spirits Day huh...?" he wispered, "Yeah, back in the Tribes we would celebrate by painting our faces and the adults would give candy to kids, see, in our beleifs All Spirits Day celebrates two kind of spirits; the spirits of the dead, obviously, but also the spirits of children who are new to this world and either are new souls or have reincarnated from spirits who were previously dead, so the adults leave offerings by the sea for the parted spirits and give candy to the new spirits, the kids," she explained, "Wow, that's really cool!
let's embrace silence and dance"I don't want to talk."let's embrace silence and dance3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
do you remember our friendship? you were my best friend, you know that. we used the sticky, summer sand to have snowball fights by the water, because we both knew it would never snow in the heat. oh, and that sand hurt, but we laughed through the pain. I guess pain is meaningless when you're seven. at night we wandered down the pier and chased the lightning bugs in and out of the tide. if we were lucky enough, we could catch one. your luck was always better than mine. lighting up the shore, we kept them in jars and placed them in a circle. I gave you my grandmother's bracelet, kissed you on the cheek, blushed, and told you the gift would remind you that someone always loves you. we stayed out there all night; I can't recall many of our conversations. but just your presence in the semi-darkness was good enough for me.
do you remember when I started to fall in love with you? we were sprawled on the dock behind my overgrown backy
Lightyears at SeaHis whispered goodbyes caught fireLightyears at Sea3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the whites of her eyes as wild dogs
and empty oceans devoured him.
Standing still for years, she with
a waiting heart and waiting fingers
gave birth to ghosts with feathers.
Haunting in his sleep, swinging like
sharp jewelry and pendulums
carving cryptic messages upon his floor-
'You, with your tattooed baptism skin
and slithering tongue of sweet poison
left her aching ashes to mix with gunpowder.'
OneirophobiaI remain in the spotlight of their eyes,Oneirophobia3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the glaring lights blur my vision,
as well as burn my skin,
to reveal bone,
the only thing left to break.
The shadows watch from a distance,
never to break their silence.
Death should be seen,
but never heard,
its presence deafening enough as it is.
I never realise I am dreaming,
untill the very last second,
my body shatters
to leave reality alive,
in the room I died in just five minutes ago.
a siren's song.her ribcage burst into flowersa siren's song.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as her lungs swam to sea
and the world was silent
-like a film set on mute-
as it watched her dance
into her coral grave.
she grinned and laughed
and all you could hear
was the metallic scraping
of her tongue on her teeth
as her coppery laugh
fell into the ocean-
like a penny onto concrete.
her hair was a tangle of seaweed
drenched in brine
and adorned with salt flecks
that caught the sun in waves
crashing along the shoreline
in the treble notes of symphonies.
ensnared in wanderlust,
she ran towards the current
in hopes of finding herself
among the lost.
she wore fish-scales
on her clavicle
and sung her way down
to the bottom of atlantis.
the ships out at bay that day
only remember one thing:
she sunk like the titanic,
her bones tearing at the seams
and all that remained of her
were two hands
(whose knuckles were mountains
and skin was land)
receding into the curls
as the earth drowned into the sea.
and there was nothing left on the horizon
Biology (In Defense Of Free Verse)The heart has four chambers:Biology (In Defense Of Free Verse)3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
two muscular atria and
two ventricles that alternate
between relaxing and
throughout the body.
This is one of many processes
that occur whether you
want it to or not.
I can sense your flesh and
when I breathe you in like pollen
or particles of smoke.
You are a part of my lungs
before tiny capillaries carry you
sleeping or intoxicated
to my heart.
Then it seizes up-
pumping little bits of you
through my veins like nerve endings
and I feel you
from my waist to my lips and
inside my brain.
The primary cause of love
is the chemical phenethylamine
that is released by eating
chocolate; or more importantly,
by feeling you against me
and nobody else.
Proteins are given purpose
through tender shaping
into a perfected form.
This can be observed
on a larger scale
It is said
during academic dissections,
that structure and form
But try and tell me
that this freedom before you
The Sky is Falling TonightThe sky is falling tonight.The Sky is Falling Tonight3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My toes curl inward
as I finish off a cigarette
and flick it to the street corner.
Looks like it might rain.
I bite my lip and taste metal.
A car rolls by with the windows
down and a tanned arm
hanging out the side.
My granddaddy once said
that on the very last day
no one will cry except the earth itself.
I can't hear a thing,
but I smell gasoline and regret.
My granddaddy's tombstone
once had a lipstick stain on it
from where my grandmamma
kissed him goodbye.
I won't even have a tombstone.
The playground is vacant,
the swings rocking in the subtle wind
as if carrying invisible children.
The dirt ground below
dips into a concave bowl.
I wonder if
the thumb of Gob pressed it in.
The clouds are charcoal black
and it occurs to me for the first time
that I will die alone.
I hug myself.
A serpentine chill slithers up my back.
But then I realize
everyone will die alone.
The end will find us all
warped and withered
with nothing left but those fears
we spent o
cratersI like to think that over this past year you've come to understandcraters3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that my heart is a cratered sun
and my veins make up constellations across my vulnerable vertebrae,
because when I close my eyes,
it's you that my subconscious summons as I sleep,
There's just something about you that completely electrifies my skin,
your touch draws conclusions between the freckles on my forearms
and I'm left wondering how you even connected the dots,
But you make me nervous in a young kind of way
and there's this fragile sense of longing that I'm not quite sure i understand,
although tonight I could feel your laugh settle between my palms like a lost lamb
and for a moment I let your innocence brush over my fingertips
and it felt like that moment was ours and ours alone,
So let's hold onto railroads
like we're about to be run over,
and let's hold onto candles
until our waxen limbs burn down to the wick,
and let's hold onto each other
while the stars drip down over our shoulders to melt away our sins.
I used to miss her, but I used to do many things.I used to trace lines from the tip of her toes to the crook of her neck, and paint her tummy with my tongue. I used to fold her bones between my fingers and keep them hidden in my pocket. I used to build her castles from blankets and unspoken wishes inside of which we could entangle our limbs and breathe each other's breath.I used to miss her, but I used to do many things.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But one day she was gone,
I woke up with an empty space between my arms where she used to be. I woke up with her voice in the back of my head and her scent between my fingers. I woke up searching for her, chasing her footprints over my skin to find that they skipped from my left hipbone onto the mattress and down onto the floor and out of my room and into the world.
I used to miss her. I used to miss the conversations we didn't have, sitting wordlessly besides each other, asking questions with our fingertips, answering them with our lips, or eyes, or kneecaps. I used to miss chasing futures together, and exchanging body parts, and smelting the ends of our nerves to
Blue StarsI learned that the sun was a star a long time ago sitting in an old wooden desk built for second graders that somehow found its way into a fifth grade classroom. I remember decorating it with pencil shavings and permanent marker that turned out to be less permanent than I had hoped.Blue Stars4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I learned the sun was a star just like the millions and billions of dots I saw every night and never thought about it again until years later. The sun is a star. Our life force comes from the stars.
The distance between the sun and the Earth is 15 x 10^7km. Light travels at 3 x 10^5km/ per second. That means it takes 500 seconds for light to reach Earth. So if some force yet unknown to science were to blow up the sun right now, we wouldn't know for eight minutes and twenty seconds. Which is to say, just enough time to run and buy a bottle of sunscreen.
You can die happy with your perfect tan at least.
But then there are blue stars. Blue stars are a million times more powerful than the sun. That's not hyperb
BloodI've got a filthy mouth,Blood3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
& a house of stars
thriving in my throat.
& I still have yet to tame
this grounded constellation
I call my temple. -Slithering
tongue hissing too many
"fuck you's" against my teeth.
I fear I will write myself hollow-
or until my bones are corroded away
& I am nothing-
an insignificant nebula
orbiting the wrong atmosphere.
But, my veins bleed sweet ichor,
& words are only words, Mother.
SliverThey say that if you stand in front of a wall of glass at exactly four minutes past midnight and tap your fingers on it three times, you can open a door to the void beyond this world. It has to be somewhere you can see your reflection, and see through it, hovering like a ghost over the darkness beyond, somewhere dim enough that you can't quite tell the difference between light and shade. And unless you hit the glass where you touched it, shatter the half-formed image before the fifth minute strikes, that door will never close.Sliver3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Celia Gray has never been one for urban legends. So much so, that she would never turn down a chance to prove one wrong.
The girls are in the middle of their third round of Truth Or Dare when it's brought up for the first time.
"Come on, Angie, it's almost midnight!"
"What's wrong, scared?"
"No, II just ...it's my house! I'm not smashing my balcony door."
"Jeez, guys." The five faces turn at the third voice. "We're fourteen no