StormThe air is thick with the promise of rain, but she hardly notices. Hers is a brisk rush through the darkening world, hands full, sneakers kicking up bits of grass in her wake. A breeze runs its ethereal fingers through her hair. It tickles under the collar of her jacketthat's the first thing she really feels.Storm in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Clouds lower overhead like great gray wings on a downstroke. She's never noticed the scent of cloud before, but she can smell it now, carried by the breeze. The dense layer of shifting black and gray above says hush, and the whole world listens. Birds become still and small. Dogs blink up at the sky, scenting the rain, and even the pond fish glide very softly up to the surface of the water, waiting to feel the first cool drops on their backs.
A reverberating growl of thunder stops her in her tracks. It rolls and crashes into its own echoes, rumbling through her very core. Her face tilts up and the first drop of rain tumbles through the atmosphere at a dizzying speed, then hi
Mercury"If I were an element on the periodic table," you say, "which would I be?"Mercury in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I meet your upside-down gaze. You're lying belly-up on my bed, your head hanging off the end and your hair pooling on the carpet.
Scrambling for a reason, I nudge my notebook away and turn, straddling my desk chair backwards. You continue to stare, owlish in your attention. "Must there be a why?"
Chin on wrist on chairback. "You are colorful."
"That's cheating." You blink slowly. "Elemental neon is not inherently colorful."
"Let me think then."
Owl eyes give silent assent.
Some things end up meaning so much to you. You didn't even blink that time I nearly broke my hand when knuckles met wall stud in a fit of misplaced rageno, you grabbed me by the belt loops and skillfully incapacitated me, closing the bedroom door with your shoulder. Somehow, though, this means more to you.
"You," I begin. You sit up on the bed.
"Are." I slowly roll the chair over to you, the plastic wheels cat
airstream drivervolkswagen van, teal and batteredairstream driver in Free Verse More Like This
but ours--let's chase that sunrise.
boots on the dashboard
we'll make this
better than any nouveau vintage
and no destination in mind
Guardian"A day like today happens--maybe twice in a whole season."Guardian in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's all hot sun and achingly blue sky, and you're sitting leonine on the hood of your battered pickup. I wish I could draw just to capture you like this--squinting into the horizon, one knee drawn up to rest your elbow on, hair windswept. I'd keep the white t-shirt and jeans, but I'd add wings: big, dusky gray things, relaxed and resting open on the windshield, pale underbellies to the sun. It'd fit, somehow, with you.
"Remember that big storm they had up north last week?"
"Yeah." I wouldn't have forgotten, not after the charts and scans you showed me. I only saw a mess of swirling colors like an end-of-the-day paint palette, but you saw sense in the chaos.
You ease off the truck and walk toward my white picket fence perch. "The wildflowers bloomed like all hell out by the lake." Resting your arms along the top beam, you gaze off into the distance for a minute longer before turning mischievous eyes my way. "Want to go see?"
dreamsong :work in progress:i. from the seadreamsong :work in progress: in Short Stories More Like This
The girl in the white dress is splayed against the salt-dark sand like a scrap of cloth. The sea, receding, whispers quiet self-assurances.
The boy who travels shadows hates this part of his patrol. He belongs beneath the trees and in the dense, wet heat--not here. Here, he is prey to endlessness.
The shadow boy skirts the fringes of the sand, taking what comfort he can from the stunted groundcover, blue and faintly glowing in the moonlight. The muscles in his shoulders twitch, and he grits his teeth against the overwhelming fear of exposure.
At least astronomy is in his favor--full moons make for good shadows. Quick escapes.
The heady rush and hiss of the ocean is making him nearly come undone when he sees her, the dress shining like a strand of whitecap detached and thrown back. He tenses.
He gulps a deep breath and steadies himself before throwing himself in the openness of beach. With no shadows to hold onto, h
stolen dog-eared mapsAudio version.stolen dog-eared maps in Free Verse More Like This
we will run
directionless but on
until the sky recedes before us.
we will outlast the horizons
sink teeth into every sunset
until we chase
what chases us--
until the oceans below hold no demons
the galaxies above
we will lose ourselves
until there is nothing left of us but
lightsdon't be fooled--lights in Free Verse More Like This
the sky is not static.
there is an infinity between any
infinite hex codes
between the bounds of the spectrum--
this is the great secret of the universe, this
cosmic light show
we can't detect--
the changes too small for our
perhaps there is someone out there--someone else
even if he cannot see.
is not my blue--perhaps it all comes down
to the chemicals
the spin of individual molecules that all add up to become
our own blue.
maybe it's all on us.
the cosmos isn't trying because, really--
if i were the cosmos
i would have better things to do.
maybe there is something
in our ability to overanalyze
and oversimplify--our ability
to realize we know nothing
and try again, anyway.
all that hasn't happenedPretty please listen to the audio.all that hasn't happened in Free Verse More Like This
i want to remember
the rumbling piano baritones
high notes like hailstones--your hands
running soundless scales.
i want the summer seas
the vineyard overlook, the olive
trees and sunwarmed coasts.
we filled the empty pages
with whole notes and halftones,
oceans and lovesongs.
we lived, we live
inkstained and drowning
through nights thick with words
and days shot with sound.
suffocation keepthis city suffocates so we don'tsuffocation keep in Free Verse More Like This
no, at best
we sing in sign language:
the hushed glances, the solidity
of shoulder blades
let's leave the choking crowds
and chase out somewhere
where the wind blows
wide and rich--
where the knotted songs in your
to take these beartrap ribs
and let us
A Little Bit of WonderlandHer name was Alyssa, and when she was nine, her mother built her Wonderland. After being raised on a healthy diet of Charles Dickens, Enid Blyton and J.M. Barrie, it seemed like the natural course of action. She created it out of paper, each scene indispensably, indisputably perfect in its imperfection.A Little Bit of Wonderland in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And she did it because Alyssa was terrified of the idea of falling through a rabbit hole, into a place that allows magic only when you are confused. Mothers do the most impractical, exhausting things to show how much they love their children. It seemed a pity that it was this very effort that kept Alyssa up all night, staring at the paper people like they were coming to get her.
(If Alyssa’s mother knew, she would have spent all her time trying to explain to the little girl that it wasn’t just paper people she should be afraid of.)
God appeared to have a sense of humour when little Alice became Alyssa’s best friend. She lives across the street, her hair always
Crayon SoulmatesDear Stars,Crayon Soulmates in Free Verse More Like This
I have a bone to pick with you. You see, when I was six, I called myself the nowhere girl... and I coloured myself a soulmate. I made him on crumpled sheets, with broken pieces of crayon, on a playground that was too busy wondering whether growing up entailed stealing your mother's cigarettes and your father's dirty magazines (I suppose I was already wise enough to know that growing up meant choosing one of the many ways of breaking yourself in two.)
I hope you remember him, stars...he was important to me (My mother threw that drawing away on my seventh birthday and told me that girls are not supposed to have such dreams.).
He had hair as ebony as deep onyx and a smile that never grew up (Peter Pan would have been proud). He was magic in soul form, and smelled like cinnamon and the earth after it has rained. His eyes rivaled a lions on the best of his youth, his words were story shaped. His skin was an ink coloured canvas of wonder and even in crayon he was a sight of awe.
It's Odd.I've grown fond of you.It's Odd. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You don't always hold me after sex. It's because you're restless. And as much as I need it, I find that restlessness far more endearing.
You take so long to get used to me in your space. I find it sweet almost, how uncomfortable you get and how the taut muscles in your back relax slowly as you watch me.
You don't think it necessary to care about my feelings. Instead you tell me as it is, exactly what you think of me. At times it hurts. Then I realize you're the only person who has ever been this honest with me.
You call me your friend sometimes. It hurts because I feel like that's all I'll ever be to you when I care for you so completely.
Your eyes are the way they are because people have gone. People have given up. People have left. I won't.
You see, the trouble is I've grown fond of you.
Death"Do you fear death?"Death in Short Stories More Like This
The question loomed in the air before my body, as if a sword looming over someone almost conquered by their enemy. But I looked down at my hands and then back up, only to say, "Have you ever felt the pain of watching two lovers embrace at the end of a movie? It's supposed to be a happy ending. But your heart tells your lungs to stop breathing for just a minute because it will never ever be yours."
"Do you fear death?"
A question repeated deserves an answer. But instead, my trembling hands sat clenched on my lap, the blue ink like veins showing through the frail covering that might rip apart any second. "Do you know what it's like to wake up in the middle of the night to hear a song, just to remind yourself, you're going to be all right? Over and over again until it doesn't work anymore."
"Do you fear death?"
The invisible chain linked through my fingers, and I closed my tired eyes, this time, hearing the impatience in th
A Snowfall CandlelitMy version of winter has always been flawed. It is controlled by the fall of snow and the exact amount of the ground it covers. It never ever covers the tiny little patch in the garden, right near the broken tin roofed shed. I suppose that is why I just like the idea of snow. But I do not love it.A Snowfall Candlelit in Free Verse More Like This
(Realisation: I suppose that little corner represents the only part of me that even I cannot love.)
I met a man with candle lit wolf eyes and a strong, warm lion heart, who tells me Sea God stories before disappearing into a cold, cold winter's morning, fog cloaking his very essence.
(Addendum: Sometimes I think of five a.m. coffee, and wonder if your smile didn't hold all of winter's warmth in it, whether I would still be liking the idea of it.)
He lights candles and turns my room into a place of sanctity and prayer often. It makes the love making ironic in a way, I suppose. But nothing he ever does fails to intrigue the very fabric that my cotton soul is made of.
Astrologically Challenged“We need to ta- what are you looking at?”Astrologically Challenged in Free Verse More Like This
"Oh...but I thought you didn't like them."
“Actually, I hate horoscopes. They lie every single damned time.”
“Not to me they don’t.”
“Sure. You were saying something.”
“We need to break up.”
“I fell in love with you before you were the boy who sang about my problems in your songs, and before you tried to evolve me into your version of a better me and before I saw how you treated your neighbour’s dog and before I knew how much you believed in horoscopes.”
“What’s wrong with horoscopes?”
“Nothing, except for the fact that you never really thought of it as a novel idea that you share the same day as one twelfth of the world.”
“Well you aren’t-”
“I’m not so perfect myself, I know. You loved me better before you read my poetry and understood how damage
UndeservedI don't deserve to be an artist.Undeserved in Free Verse More Like This
I don't know how to hold deep meaningful conversations with strangers.
I don't lament at night about a lover I have lost.
I don't watch the white smoke ebb into darkness.
I don't spend lonely nights admiring the true beauty of the world.
I don't sleep restlessly from the truth of suffering within this world.
I don't lie through my smiles or struggle to create them.
But I do think I am a writer.
I am completely, irreparably damaged.
I cry all night over old words and emotional baggage.
I weep over my lost innocence.
I spend nights wishing for skin against my own
I long for insomnia to inspire me.
I beg for worlds to collide so I can breathe.
So am I writer really?
Or just another misguided artist?
FaithI love your belief in God.Faith in Free Verse More Like This
Not because it matches mine.
Because it makes you even more beautiful to me.
You are the dream I always wanted, but never had.
(God likes to surprise me. Well, consider me surprised.)
It makes me want to sleep every single night by your side.
I want to wrap my prayers around you.
I want to press my lips to the segments of your body.
If you asked, I would rest my head besides yours
and dream your nightmares for you.
(You shudder in your sleep. I don't think you know.)
In faith, I'll be your dreamcatcher.
In dreams, let me wish all your nightmares away
LustHis hands have a habit of finding my hip bones,Lust in Free Verse More Like This
trailing his river like fingers along my stone smooth skin,
his lips do not move, his mouth tells me stories.
Mine spend their time
tracing the length and breadth
of his back in kisses*
We travel through lands that never existed
before we touched them
At temperatures far exceeding in Fahrenheit
If only we could understand
how lust and geography
make such divinely sinful bedmates.
* One hundred and sixteen
Constructive Criticism"Tell me what you think."Constructive Criticism in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Of the poem?"
"No, of my face. Yes, the poem."
"I was going to say, because your face is just stupid."
"Very funny. Read."
"What did you think?"
"Why did you write this?"
"I wrote it for you."
"You make me self conscious when you say things like that."
"I'm not worth this you know."
"What does that mean?"
"I am half a girl, and I deserve half a poem."
"That is not true, and you still haven't told me what you really thought about it."
"It's as broken and complex and half hearted as a sad song about the way you feel ink trail between your fingers like it's blood. There is no reason for it, it's the kind of beautiful that is there just for being there. It happened, it's a moment in time forever frozen and to be remembered in a way that candles that burn in holy places should be. It's a forever, all by itself- Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because you believe you deserve half a poem."
"I do. I am too damaged and broken an
TimeWhat sound does blood make as it flows within the heart that beats for thy loveTime in Free Verse More Like This
What rthym does the drum beat as the native hones for a song from his hands
What distance can surpass by the speed of the animal as it searches for shelter from the upcoming storm
How long does one last as they look death with in the face and see his Skeletal face glaring back at them
We ask ourselves how we survive this life as the world continues to crash down around us
We ask our life how comes they choose to not die when we can see that is what the outcome of us all
But as life looks back at us and see's what our past has given us and what we are today all it does is smile
The smile runs from the mountain tops to the bottom of the deepest ocean so we just stand there in wonder
finally our lives speak to us as we hold our loved ones close and all it says is we will all know our fates
PhobiaI stand here looking down below as the water clashes the rocks belowPhobia in Free Verse More Like This
You're holding my hand and telling me to jump and I will fly
I trust you as I leap from the mountain side I begin to fall
But just as soon as you scream I love you the wings sprout from my back carrying me to the skies above
You join me in the skies, and kiss me under the rain.
I begin to cry and smile knowing your there for me and that makes the rain stop and the sun shine.
I hold your hand and we fly to a better place where my paranoia no longer exists
We live in a happy world where all our troubles wash away like sand in an hourglass
We are together forever I love you more every day I see your smiling face
Your heart is mine as mine is yours and forever will I cherish it in a unbreakable frame
I love you just seems like something that can't even measure how I feel about you
Your name will forever be spoken from my lips as I remain faithful to only you
I trust you enough to get over my phobias of all the things I fe
Expression of emotionsdont let me fall let me fly.Expression of emotions in Free Verse More Like This
let me soar across this midnight sky.
ask yourself why this is true.
ask me what i really like to do.
that is the answer that all i want to see.
when the true feeling of want is just wanting me.
don't let me die without knowing your kiss.
don't let me go without knowing how truly you will miss.
let me know how much you care even if it's a silent love.
hold my hand to guide me down the path even if the darkness is loom above.
for with you in my heart and soul i know that i can walk with no fear.
for your the angel, the girl, the equal partner that i hold close and dear.
Let me love you, let me express my emotions whether it be written or preformed for you.
For i love you from the sky so high to the ground that dwells from under our feet it is what i do.
when your around i feel complete, i feel invincible for nothing can bring me down on life and love.
When we part our ways i feel empty, hollow and i feel nothing can feel the void that goes to shove.
Something to findI have this feeling I dont know whySomething to find in Free Verse More Like This
i have this thought that we are going to have to try
i have this sound that reminds me of you
I have this note that i really want to do
I have this song that makes the tears go away
I have you in my heart and that's where you will always stay
This is HalloweenSink thy teeth, burn thy flesh, rot thy bones and run away.This is Halloween in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
Fear thy name, roam my mind, eat thy food and here you will stay.
For this is Halloween and this is my time of reign.
For this is Halloween for you will see my pain.
As the night is dark so is thy soul I come to consume your mind.
For this is the witches hour we cast the darkness to wrap around your kind.
For this is Halloween and I am the king of the night.
For this is Halloween as I come out to terrorize you tonight.
I am the prince I am the king.
I am the joker that will remain unseen.
For this is Halloween as I come silently into your room I stalk your dreams.
For this is Halloween I make your nightmares come alive so you wake up in screams.
I am the undead, I am the night.
I am the ghoul that can cause you such fright.
For this is Halloween and I come to your death with scythe in hand.
For this is Halloween as I travel near and far across this barren land.
I am the death that came to your undoing I am unseen.
As I whisper
Shadows of darkness Shadows of the DarknessShadows of darkness in Free Verse More Like This
I met this girl she makes my skin tingle and my heart skip beats
I met this angel she makes my nights seem hopeful and makes time stand still
I met this person who makes the light in the morning a wonderful think to stand
I met this love at the end of my rope as i swung to her to cling onto forever
I met this shadow that has me held in place like a sundial
Stolen goodsHis cave is filled with stolen wonders.Stolen goods in Short Stories More Like This
He was taught to be resourceful at a young age. It's part of not being sloppy. You clean up after your meal, his mother always said. There was more than washing his face and the cold cave floor. There was much more to do to survive.
Clothing is good. You can reuse it, or break it down and make something out of it. He knows another one like him who makes the most beautiful quilts. If you bring her the supplies and a nice meal, she'll make you a quilt too. You can use that every winter. It's going to be cold every winter. You'll need it. Aesthetics aren't important, but it's a nice change. Just because you're a monster in the woods eating people doesn't mean you can't have nice things.
Knick knacks can be useful. Tobacco is ever popular. Not many of his kind like it, but those that do suffer the same addiction as the humans. The
Outside"How the mighty have fallen?" She repeated, incensed by the woman's mockery. "Who are you? How dare you speak to me like that?!"Outside in Short Stories More Like This
The woman in gray laughed, before looking at her companion, a man dressed in extravagant clothing, "The more she talks the more I think you where right. She doesn't want to get out."
"I told you this was a waste of time." He shook his head, long braid shaking with him. "Let's just leave her and go."
"No!" She interjected quickly. "I'll listen. I'll listen to whatever you have to say."
"Really?" The woman asked, switching to German. "So, you'll listen to me, and you'll do whatever I, or my companion here, tell you to?"
"I hate when you switch to German." The man muttered, "You just do it because I can't understand you."
"If it gets me out of this tower, I will." The Countess responded.
The woman's smile grew a bit. "Good. We'll help you, but you'll be in my d
TrembleThe Countess has lost track of time. She no longer knows the date, month, or even how long she has been in the tower. Despite this, she has made some new companions that took up a few hours of the unending days.Tremble in Short Stories More Like This
There was a hole in the wall so food could be passed to her. Her company rarely joined her inside her cell, and spoke to her through the opening. "They only charged you with thirty or so murders." The succubus filled her in on the latest details of her trial. Erzsebet could not see her through hole much, but she sounded so young, not like a being that had been alive hundreds of years.
"Only thirty?" She replied with a laugh. "I'm almost embarrassed."
The two spoke of the trial, and of many other things. The succubus, who gave the Countess the name Secunda to call her, was just as educated as her on several matters, such as politics, ancient literature, and philosophy.
"There are people who do e
TransformationThe painter had learned a great deal about the unstable relationship of things. Life to death. One life to two lives. Fresh to rotting. Human to monster. He had seen it all. He had enough. He was an old man, and he was ready to die. He told her that.Transformation in Short Stories More Like This
"I wanted to be famous, but I've become a sell out." He told her. She had been posing as his wife for years now, since they came to this city. "My art isn't even my art anymore."
She was not a painter, let alone the artsy type. While she had been trained to deal with feelings, she did not completely understand. He was a famous artist. That was what he had asked of her. "So, this is it?"
"No." He answered quickly. "I want to do one more painting." He wanted to transform a blank canvas into something beautiful one last time. And this time it would be something he wanted, not some rich man's vanity project. "I want to paint
alternate scenes2: thorOdin went, there after, to the warriors three. First looking at Fandral. He had been stabbed through the chest but the wound was now patched up.alternate scenes2: thor in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Fandral smiled. "Good as new."
"Good, you've gotten your wound all taken care of."
"Yes sir," he hit where it used to be and didn't flinch.
"Good, then allow me to fix something else," he lifted him up and sat upon the couch.
"Um... what is this?"
"Perhaps had your father, or even I myself, given you more of these you'd have learned to follow directions," he pants him to his knees.
He squirmed. "Sir! You can't!"
"I can and shall," he brought his palm down hard on him.
He gasped and jolted.
"It is a marvel that you six weren't killed!" he continued to swat him hard.
He squirmed around. "owowowwww! I am not a child!"
"You and the others have acted as nothing less than disobedient children! And since you wish to behave as such you will be treated as such!"
"We never behaved as such!"
"You disregarded the orders of your king!" he swatted his under
alternate scenes: thorOdin look at the group he'd just saved, "Get to the healing chamber, now!"alternate scenes: thor in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Disobeying me so flat out, you could've and WOULD'VE been killed had I not saved you all!"
Thor rolled his eyes. "We weren't killed, Father, stop your worrying."
He grabbed Thor's hair, "I just had to save you, Loki, lady sif and the warriors three from another one of your schemes! And now, because of your arrogance we are on the verge of a war!"
He pushed his hand away. "Calm down, old man!"
He glared at him, "To your chambers."
He huffed and began walking out of the building. "The Son of Odin will go where he pleases!"
He grabbed the back of his hair, "Thor you are an arrogant, greedy boy! Who can't even follow simple orders!" he sat on the steps of the gateway, pulling his son over his lap.
"The Son of Odin is too old for this!" he blushed, "Faaaaather!"
"Since when is Odin's son too old to obey his father? I see I will have to take more direct measures with you, Thor," he pulled his pants down to his knees.
alternate ending2: thorLOki shook his head as he landed on earth, "So. This is where brother was banished to?" he sighed and began walking to the town. He was stared at by many, "Perhaps I should try to blend," he went to a department store and stole some pants and a shirt.alternate ending2: thor in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
After about a month when the gate was rebuilt Thor and the warriors three landed to look for him.Thor told them to split up as they looked.
Loki had been been shopping when he looked at them from the window and whimpered, hurrying away. He soon hid in a diner, looking through a window. Not minding the stares.
Hogun found some of Loki's clothes and brought them to Thor.
Thor nodded. "So, he's in disguise.V ery well then."
Loki sighed and saw one of the three coming towards the diner. He gasped and hurried out the back. He needed to hurry and find somewhere else to hide before the Large one came out.
Loki had run into a library and straight into Fandral. "So there you are." He grabbed him before he could run. "Your brother is looking for yo
alternate ending: thorLoki groaned and looked at where the portal had once been. He still felt heavy after his brother hit him with lightning and the afterblow of the bridge partially exploding.alternate ending: thor in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Thor walked to Loki. "You and I need to have a nice long heart-to-heart, brother, or should I say hand-to-bottom?"
He glared at him, indginantly.
He sat on the stairs and pulled his brother over his lap, taking his pants down.
"What are you doing!? Stop this!" he blushed and kicked. Thor laid his hammer on Loki's back and cracked his knuckles. He grunted and struggled to move his torso, unable to even arch his back to do the weight.
Thor brought his hand down hard on his butt, leaving a bright red handprint, "You have no idea how angry I am with you!" he brought the next one on his thigh.
He gasped. That was as bad as father! "Ah!" he gasped.
"You went too far with this trickery!" he began to spank him quickly.
"Owwwww!!" he kicked as well as he could.
He held his hands front and continued, spending ten m
The Morning AfterThe Morning After in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Jensen had never been all that good at handling his alcohol. This was one thing that was known as a universal truth. So it was rather important that when he did decide to drink, someone stuck with him, at least until he passed out. That way he didn't do anything to get himself arrested, hurt, or killed. However, one thing none of the Losers could stop him from doing, regardless of his state of sobriety, was keep him from saying something stupid.
This was also known as a universal truth.
And about as futile as trying to stop a force of nature.
So when he did get drunk off his ass, it would usually end with a story that the Losers could laugh at for a long time afterwards. Jensen was ok with this. He didn't mind being a source of humor in their usually depressing lifestyle of being stuck where they were: with crappy jobs, hotel rooms, and no family to go home to. But there were a few times, just a few, when Jensen wished he'd just sh
Mother WolfMother Wolf in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
She's been with them from the beginning. When the military brass asked him to put together a team, Pooch and Cougar were the first two that stood out. Then Wolf and Roque were yanked away from other projects, and after a handful of missions with other tech-heads, Jensen was found and brought on to the team.
Her given name is Marie, but her code name is always Wolf. Eventually it gets used so often it's what they start calling her off mission. And she's earned it, because that's what she is, a Mother Wolf. Fiercely protective of the whole team, even new or temporary members. When Jensen joined up she damn near smothered the boy with care and kindness, taking care of all his wounds and soothing his worries with a gentle voice. Pooch thinks it's got something to do with the fact that she never got to have kids, so she mothers the team instead. Clay quietly agrees, because even though she's sweet as sugar t
Damnsels in DistressDamnsels in Distress in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Damsels in Distress And the Saving There Of
It was dark. It was dark, and cold, and she was alone. That was all she could tell about the world around her. There was a dripping noise in the background, and the muffled, far off noise of a conversation. She tried opening her eyes, but the distinct feeling of material over them told her she was blindfolded and wouldn't be able to see anything anyway. Aisha experimentally tugged at her wrists and ankles, to find that they were bound tightly together. Her wrists also seemed to be tied to something, that upon further exploration, seemed to be a water pipe. For a few moments she tugged ineffectually at the bonds, in hopes that her captors really just didn't know how to tie a knot, but to no avail. With the luck she had been having in the last week, it was more than just a shot in the (literal) dark. The left side of her face and jaw throbbed relentlessly, and there were at least two broken fingers on her left hand. She could feel th
The Morning After Part 2The Morning After Part 2 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The Morning After the Night Before
Jensen stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around himself, and walked to the beat up old dresser to find something to wear. He was slightly scared to go downstairs and face Cougar, not knowing exactly what their relationship was becoming. But what scared him even more than that, was having to face Clay. He knew for a fact that Clay was as straight as a two by four, so unless Cougar was lying to him about kissing Clay, he might have to do some apologizing. On the other hand, if Cougar was telling the truth about the fact that Clay happened to enjoy the kiss well Jensen really didn't know what he would do, but regardless the situation was going to be awkward. As he tied his shoes, he began to rehears a short apology in his head, just in case. He started for the door before turning quickly and walking to the mini fridge, sure enough, his room key was sitting on the top shelf. He grabbed the keys, w
The NoldorMighty are the Second Kindred,The Noldor in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Strong and brave and fair;
Fierce they are and proud,
Tall and dark of hair;
Filled with passion and iron of will,
A two edged sword this can be.
Never do they turn aside from their propose,
From no enemy do they flee.
Ache their hands do to craft and create,
Beloved of the Smith are they.
Burn their minds do for knowledge,
But into folly they sometimes stray.
Lovers of hills and open lands,
The Watchtower their first home.
Many other glorious kingdoms did they build,
Seven High Kings they have known.
The House of Finarfin FINARFINThe House of Finarfin in General Fiction More Like This
Name Finwe Arafinwe Finwion
Meaning Finwe, Noble Finwe, Son of Finwe
Name in Sindarin Finarfin
Position 2nd High King of the Noldor
Talents Known for his beauty and wisdom
Into the darkThe memories I treasure mostInto the dark in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Have rendered me a hollow ghost.
My heart hangs but by a thread,
The remnant of an empty web.
It used to catch all that I hold dear
The memories slipped, they are no longer near.
I fear that I have lost them all.
There is nothing left to do but fall
Into the dark
With my heavy heart.
One Thousand HeartsFar beyond the reach of your telescopes, there is a world. It is small, insignificant; chosen because of its diminutive size. Its atmosphere, once a haven for simple life forms, is inhospitable. Only one being resides on it. This world, now completely lifeless, was given a dark purpose so that all other worlds might be spared.One Thousand Hearts in Short Stories More Like This
Stillness. That night was the very essence of stillness. There were five comets in number that alit on that terrible planet. Four were incarnations of the phases of the moons. They shone with a clear blue light, akin to that of the moons. The fifth was warm, her golden light brighter than the rest, bringing true light to the world. She exuded the kind of light that made creatures want to live. Only there were none there for her to inspire. Their fall to the dark world was graceful, effortless. Behind them extended gloriously beautiful tails of pure light, that seemed to stretch across the entire sky.
Euvanesiel was not an angel. She was purer. She was
And So It Began...I met herAnd So It Began... in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In the wilderness
While chasing down wild horses.
I met her
In the gardens
A regal king, wishing he were someone else.
She met me
In the wilderness
A lord and maybe a warrior.
She met him
In the gardens
A man hiding from the world.
She met him
At a ball
Where the mask fell from my face.
The Little Things They Share#01 - MotionThe Little Things They Share in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Together, the Russian and the German are a whirl.
#02 - Cool
The female countries of the yaoi club (except for Belarus) think that the two of them together is the most romantic thing ever; Hungary can't help but agree that her matchmaking skills are sublime.
#03 - Young
Germany is just a child, but he knows himself, knows what he wants; Russia never even had a chance.
#04 - Last
China was his first love, Cuba his second, and India his third, but Germany will definitely be his last.
#05 - Wrong
They are simple and well-matched, and Ukraine and Hungary has made certain that any dissenters are forcefully quieted.
#06 - Gentle
At first, Germany was always tentative in his touches.
#07 - One
Even now, centuries later, a single kiss is all that is needed for Russia to come completely undone.
#08 - Thousand
A millennium wouldn't have been enough for Germany to recover from his failed relationship with Russia.
#09 - King
For all that he might as well be a King, he still lived in a
Their Sweet Disaster1. ComfortTheir Sweet Disaster in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Germany would rather ingest cyanide than admit Russia's presence is his biggest comfort and soother no matter what and where (and whatever he mood may be), but the fact remains that it is.
Germany's kisses are treasures in themselves, the soft pressure of lips against forehead; Russia often wishes he were special enough to receive that honor - what he doesn't know though, was that he has received that honor, more than once...he's just too scared of Belarus, and Germany's too afraid and stubborn to enlighten him on it.
Russia's eyes are like a poisonous cold violet - unforgiving and unrelenting and cruel - yet for him, they soften just a little and let him witness the gentle, sweet young boy he once was.
Germany admits to him that pain is an understatement in describing how he felt about betraying his best friend Italy; Russia rubs his back and tells him that he merely wishes he'd been there to help him through the agony.
Russia's tone is low
Cold Contentment1. LifeCold Contentment in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They both need each other at their back, and not just as comrades; Russia needs him to simply provide him with stability, Germany needs him simply as a reason to keep on trying.
Germany tried to be disappointed with him for being so distant and resentful of his relationship with Italy, yet the look of betrayal in those violet eyes nearly broke his heart, even as the sight of him chatting with India later that night enraged him and made him feel like the worst hypocrite.
Russia complained about how cold Germany's hands were when he cuddled up beside him, yet the sleepy half-smile told him that despite his words, he was relieved that he was home safely.
Germany never really liked coffee, yet he thinks tasting it on Russia's lips could very well convince him otherwise.
Nobody can really comprehend why Russia would still be so loyal to Germany after the blue-eyed blonde married Italy, yet he is, and though Germany never comments on it, his