Mirror MeDarling,More Like This
My soul is calling out for you, seeking you, and hoping with every pulse, every vibration, and every flicker of light around its edges that you will come to me.
Enter my orbit.
Spin around me.
Feel my gravity pull you in tighter …
Until our combined desires crash us into one another.
You alone will look into my eyes and see who I truly am. You alone will see the potential in me to fulfill each and every one of your dreams; you alone will know how far I would go for you.
My twists, and my perversions.
The deep dark corners that I do not reveal.
The delicious rightness of all that is wrong.
My deep, dark desires that no one knows.
You will see them, understand them and match them one by one. Together we will walk the paths into the
SubmissionSubmission.More Like This
The word alone sends tingles down my spine. My body relaxes and my mind’s incessant hum slows down and grows quiet. “Submit”
The whisper of it is electrifying. Reactions are fluid and involuntary.
Is not the body alone, not simply the act of kneeling, or twisting into a position that invokes a sense of being controlled. It is the mind, the senses, trust.
Is in the soul; in the core of the submissive, just as Dominance, Power, Control and Responsibility are at the core of the Master.
My body simply interprets what I feel inside, it interprets what is in my soul and bends to Master’s will. So when I kneel; when I place my body at my Master’s feet it is not an empty gesture; it is a display of my obedience, my free will being delivered up for the taking, my compliance to his will, my naked core presented to him as an offering of my complete and utter surrender of all I am to him.
Is what I do. Deep i
In loving memory..Brave-heart is my newborn rabbit..he taught me a very important lesson on never giving up.. Try your hardest and you can achieve your goals. He was born yesterday at 5:30 pm and right from the start, I knew something didnt look right. His legs, they were crippled; and his eyes were gone.. I still loved him and I choose for him to live. As I write this.. Brave-heart is lying on my lap, curled up just waiting for the end. I keep on telling him "not this time around hun.," and I think he knows that this was his destiny, to teach me a important lessonMore Like This
He truely has a brave heart <3
*puts on tinfoil hat* What Frozen is really about!Watched Frozen today and it was quite the mess of Scandinavian culture and stereotypes. Don't get defensive if you really love the movie. It was indeed a cultural mess, but in an entertaining way. Also, while watching it, I unintentionally came up with a somewhat sinister theory of what is going on behind the scenes of the main story. (Keep in mind this is just for fun. I can't imagine this was what Disney was thinking. Consider it an alternative interpretation of the Frozen universe)More Like This
While it takes place in some Disney fantasy country called Arendelle, it's clearly strongly inspired by Norway, what with all the mentions of fjords and such. But the people in the royal city are wearing clothes that looks like a mix between Swedish and Norwegian dress and they raise a maypole which is mostly a Swedish tradition in Scandinavia (it's still done a few places in Denmark too and even fewer places in Norway, so really, it's seen as a Swedish thing). At one point they meet a shopkeeper who
Tough Decisions - Siding with NohrMore Like This
This was it, the two sides on opposite ends of the plain. Soldiers reading their weapons. The tension was so thick it appeared to be visible. Kamui ran as fast as her stamina would allow her to. She wanted to stop the potential war that was going to happen. Deep down she knew that this meant she would have to choose; her forgotten kin in Hoshido or her family in Nohr who raised her. A choice with no clear winner. How could anyone pick between their real family and the family who adopted them as their own - yet Kamui was forced between them, as she approached they both reached out to her.
The albino haired princess knew she had to make a tough decision but now when she was finally faced with it she didn’t know what to do. Making eye contact with both parties only made it worse.
“Come here!” Ryouma called in desperation.
“Sister!” Sakura cried, Hinoka and Takumi closely followed behind her, worry etched on their faces.
“Return to us…” Marx
The mannequin in the atticThe mannequin in the atticMore Like This
By The Shadow Demon
(Woman into mannequin)
“This looks cute,” Bridgette says turning to her friend Emma, showing her a low cut pink singlet.
“Low cut, are you trying to get every boy to look at you?” Emma asks. Bridgette just gave her a smirk as she puts the singlet back. Both at the age of seventeen, Bridgette with long blonde hair while Emma had black, the two ever since they were ten were always into fashion and once they were finish with school the two were planning to go into the fashion industry.
“Now this is you!” Emma said grabbing a white shirt with pink decorations on it.
“That just screams girly, I don’t think so!” Bridgette said.
“Well better then these bimbo clothes that you are bringing out!” Emma explains.
“You got it, flaunt it!” Bridgette said cupping her C cup breasts and slightly jerked them up, Emma just shook her head as she returns to her shopping. Hearing her
MonochromeMore Like This
Beads of rain that reflected various shades of cobalt slid down the cracked window before him, racing down the chill surface in vein-like streams before his lidded eyes. If it weren't for the dull shade they'd become, his irises would have reflected off the window pane too. Even though he could see his dim reflection staring back at him with that melancholic expression that seemingly mocked the bartender, he couldn't tell what colour they were, even if he squinted. Sometimes that helped, but not as of late.
"They're pale but lovely... like chrome!"
These very words had probably ran through his head about a dozen times or so now. If it weren't bad enough, his sense of colour had slowly began to go down the drain along with the vibrant hue of his eyes.
As he leaned against the tall glass panel, tucked into the corner of their apartment's window seat (that of which he'd always dreamt in his future home, ever since he was young), he couldn't help but exhale dramatically ev
The Author is DeadPlease, I need your help. We're both in danger.More Like This
Do you see that corpse in the corner? The one with fluffy red hair? That's the author of this story, and she's dead. If you don't want the same thing to happen to you or me, you need to do everything I say.
Okay. First, turn off the volume on your device. The monster's still here, and it will attack if it hears you. Work quietly now...
We don't have words to waste, so I'll sum this up quick:
I'm the protagonist. You can call me Proto.
The writer invented a creature whose harpoon-like limbs could go through anything. While she was thinking of a way for me to beat it, one claw punctured the fourth wall, and her chest, then dragged her in. She died before giving me anything.
That hole in the wall is how I can see you. You're all I have left, dear reader.
All of my teammates have been killed off- the other bodies you see. It is still nosing around them. Hasn't noticed me hiding by the rubble.
If nothing changes by the story
So I CriedLegolas felt his knees give way under the sledgehammer of emotions that sent his spirit crashing down.More Like This
No, no it couldnt be. Not him, he couldnt die.
He stared in dark, horrified disbelief at the cliffs edge, praying with all his being that Aragorn would climb up over it, smiling reassuringly and ready to take him in his arms.
But it didnt happen. Three, four, five minutes passed, and still nothing.
Come now lad, hes gone. Gimlis gruff voice broke into his thoughts, but it seemed to come from far away, from another world.
No, no hes not. Legolass voice sounded strange to himself, odd and thin.
Thick hands gripped his arm and lead him away, almost dragging him. Legolas went without a fight, barely hearing the dwarfs words of comfort.
He felt so cold, so utterly alone.
Dimly he swung himself up onto the horse and rode behind Theodin and the others, passing
Vlad the Bat BoyVlad the Bat-BoyMore Like This
By Jason Masters © 2014
This is a work of fiction. This story was not inspired by any real events.
This story was inspired by the sketches of "Bat boy Vlad" by Altysay :iconaltysay:.
Vlad had known he was different even before he had been completely weaned.
Born in a colony of fruit-bats, Vlad had grown like most of the other bat-children, suckling his mother's milk until he learned to eat the fruit the adults ate. But Vlad hadn't grown as fast as the other bat-children. Even after he was weaned, he remained a child long after the other bat-children were fully grown and breeding.
And there was another difference, which it took Vlad some time to notice but, when he thought about it, became shockingly obvious. In fact, thought was at the heart of the matter.
Vlad had realised that he was smarter than all the other bats. They all carried on their lives in a day-to-d
The Crying PuppetThe Crying PuppetMore Like This
By Jason Masters © 2015
This is a work of fiction. This story is not based on any real events.
The wizard stared disapprovingly at the woodcutter who clutched his infant son protectively in his lap while seated on the other side of the ornately carved oak desk. It had been a long journey for a man with so small a baby, the wizard knew. He hated to disappoint such a determined customer.
The wizard's disapproving look was tempered somewhat by the sight of the small bag of gold coins which the woodcutter was offering in exchange for a particularly dangerous and difficult-to-cast spell. The bag of coins must have represented the man's life's savings. All the same, the wizard wasn't a total mercenary and was trying to impress certain warnings upon his potential client's mind, more than half hoping to dissuade him in spite of the potential profit.
"A spell of this nature is not only extremely difficult to successfully cast, b