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Vision blursThe hardest part about being away from home is not knowing where you are.
The hive was a familiar place, easy to navigate despite the twist and turns. It was warm, breezes flitting through open windows and various nooks and crannies. There were people there. People she had known all of her life. They had been family, though the term was tenuous. Co-workers was better suited. Co-workers bound by blood and obligations. A hive cannot work unless everyone works.
It's times like this that the remembrance makes her vision blur. Her eyes are clouded by something and she pushes up her glasses so no one can see. 'Wide rim, bug eyes are in style,' she reminds herself, trying to refocus. 'Aren't I lucky?'
The world up here is not so easy to manage. It is without the high winds she can no longer find her way through, but there are cracks. There are indents. Things come suddenly and it's hard to manage when you are
The Widow Nadasdy“I was married once.” Her voice is a low hum and she is content to sit playing with the fiery tips of her hair. She is freshly showered all the carnage is behind her. “It wasn’t my choice. Very little was actually my choice back then. You know how it was for women back then. It didn’t matter what I had to offer as a person or what I wanted, it was about family connections. Social standing and social bettering. You know. Politics.”
She is silent for a moment. “His name was Ferenc. Ferenc Nadasdy. I didn’t love him. I don’t think I can love anyone, but we were good for each other. He wasn’t very smart, but I am. I handled everything, and he went to war and made us all proud. I learned a lot from him. Being married to him kept me safe.”
“He never knew.” She gestures to a spot of blood on the towel. &
Camaraderie behind closed doorsNo matter how many panic attacks she had, it was still horrifying.
Leaving the room in it's current state of chaos had been difficult, and now Lenore feared she had created a bigger scene than Stella and April could have ever, and now everyone was sitting around the table, not talking about Stella and her many grievous faults anymore, but Lenore and her sudden outburst. It certainly didn't help. All Lenore had ever wanted from life was to be normal, and she had been doing a wonderful job faking it until she made it, but all that progress had been undone now. Not even five minutes to ruin months and months of her efforts.
Perhaps April was right. Stella ruins everything for everyone, and everyone but Stella has to deal with the consequences.
She tried to breathe deep and focus on that, but a voice called out, "Lenore? Lenore, where are you?" Despite her panic, she recognized April's voice and thought of what Stella had said about
Peasants can't take directionHere’s a scenario for you. You are in my employment. In return for food and shelter from the dangerous times, I want my homes to be clean, I need food prepared, clothes need to be handled, just housework. I’m not asking you to do anything too complicated. If anything, I’m doing all the complicated work. I’ll handle the finances, and keep the country safe. You just keep the floor under my feet clean, and I will handle this for you.
This isn’t revolutionary, but you don’t seem to understand why I’m calling you to the window. It’s dusty. ”But I just cleaned it.” You protest.
Honey, if its dusty, you didn’t do a good job. This is a warning.
God help you if you steal. What is it? You wanted this coin? Am I not paying you? Did you forget that? Do you think your meals and clothes and
Eyelash WishThere is an eyelash on the girls cheek.
She’s dead now, more blood on the outside then on the inside. Erzsebet looks on, like she always does. She will be branded a necrophiliac in later years because she does not mind the presence of dead things. She’s constantly standing over the bodies, half wondering if the girl will get up and continue her chores, half wondering if all life must end. She doesn’t have sex with the bodies - that would be disgusting - she just likes to look. It makes her feel like God, who gives and takes away.
Reaching down, she touches the girls cold face, the eyelash on her finger now. In a motion, the finger is at her lips and she blows - a wish.
2012 I began 2012 alone and as a pushover, but this was a year of discovery and self improvement. I entered the year burdened with the emotional baggage of 2011, and I had to find a way to handle it. Winter has always been a difficult season for me. The cold brings snow and beauty, in the vast white expanse I tend to feel so small and alone. Sometimes I can’t cope with that. I returned to school for the spring semester and the depression sat so heavy on me. I couldn’t cope with a lot of things I was going through. I couldn’t handle feeling so alone, unwanted and worthless.
I don’t know if I hit rock bottom, but I know I climbed up. I made changes. I started forcing myself to interact with people and stop being such an introvert. I started feeling better than I had in a long time. Everything felt light somehow, as if I was cured, and I would begin l
The TowerCountess Erzsebet Bathory looked out the small opening in the wall. It was hard to see what lay ahead of her as it was dark. Unsatisfied, she sat down, avoiding looking in the mirror. The aristocrat considered writing a letter that would never be sent, but decided against it. She had grown accustomed to sitting in silence, occasionally broken by the guards conversation, or an unearthly visitor, and doing nothing.
She had been in her tower for three years they told her. She had no choice but to believe them. How else could she measure time?
Moving across the room, she avoided the mirror. Although she had draped something over it long ago, there was still that temptation. She didn't want to know how old she looked now, having not been able to 'treat' herself in years. Even now, her vanity was present, still commanding her. She had put deep thought into giving a full confession, but the cons outweighed the pro
Aidenrotica'It's two in the morning, fucking leave me alone.' Freya wanted to protest, but what came out was "It's two in the fucking leave me alone." It had been hard for him to adjust to living with Aiden. Sure, there were maids who cleaned, and people who cooked - but the clocks and all the ticking and chiming! There was a rather large grandfather clock down the hall that woke him up every hour on the hour, and he had only learned to sleep through it now. That, or he was too tired to wake up.
Freya had changed rooms a few times, but he couldn't escape the clocks. In one room he found there was a cuckoo clock whose infernal chirping woke him every half hour, as if the chiming from down the hall wasn't enough. In another the ticking was so loud and unearthly, sleep was impossible. And then there was Aiden, who couldn't understand why ticking and chiming and chirping would ever be a problem, and seemed offended that Freya didn't want to stay in the
Re:Trout heart Replicai. Strain Theory
Strain theory states that people are conditioned to want success, though not all are given the means to achieve it. When success cannot be reached, strain is created, which gives birth to deviance.
"It's just a matter of trying hard enough." Griseldis had told herself often, rejecting the idea. She had tried hard enough to get various diplomas, find ways to pay for them, and start her life. It was a strain, but there was no deviance - just a nice one bedroom apartment and more luxury than she had imagined herself having. She had enough money to throw around and buy good food and provide for someone else.
She had enough money to buy fancy lingerie, as silly a luxury it was.
Looking in the mirror, it was right. It was flattering. But it felt wrong. Maybe because it wasn't gray, like she was used too. Maybe because she had all these aspirations of that special Honeymoon, but she and the man were not a ver
The Fridge3:02 a.m.
I woke up slowly and groggily, in the sort of half-dreaming way that you do sometimes. There were a few disoriented moments in the dark, as my mind sorted reality from dreams, before I knew where I was. You were asleep, curled up next to me with your arm over my midriff, your hand resting on my belly underneath the sheets, making me feel safe.
My stomach gurgled urgently, and I realised that I was incredibly hungry. I looked over at the clock and saw it was 3 a.m. I usually sleep soundly, but hunger always manages to get my attention over any kind of sleep. It wasn't as if I had gone to bed hungry. The leftover serving bowl on the side cabinet formerly full of ice cream would attest to that fact; however, my belly was unconvinced and continued to complain. Nothing else to do, I suppose, but get up.
I slowly and carefully pick your hand off my belly and move it to one side, trying not to wake you. A bit futile I suppose, it's not like I can move with much stealth these
WonderlandThe woman called Alice walks alone through the hollow streets, a seed planted in her sterile heart and a rifle sleeping in her belt. Last night, she'd witnessed the popping of Pérignon, and a dazzling display of fireworks, complete with alcohol-polished emotions and hundreds of thousands of citizens pulsing rowdy fanfare. She'd netted her highest number of kills that fateful day. Blood still rests in the creases of her palms.
A streetlamp greets her brightly with its mild glow, and alerts her to a dirty and disheveled homeless man groveling for money on the other side of the street. The young couple next to him give a feeble attempt to back away, claiming they have none to spare.
"Lies," Alice whispers. She can easily see the pearls jingling from the lady's neck, and a well-crisped suit guarding the young man from the night chill. Money is more than expendable to them. And this city could do without this attractive mask of a couple. They, too, are expendable. Alice begins t
Hetalia X Reader: Perceptive
You woke up to your alarm ringing. You turn off your alarm while yawning sleepily.
Another day of work
You slowly got out of bed and begin another journey of your usual daily routine of brushing your teeth, taking a shower, eating breakfast, getting dressed for work, and so on.
You yawn while leaving your house through walking out of your front door before closing and locking it. You start walking down the pathway to your car but stop seconds later when you saw a familiar blond-haired kid riding a scooter around in front of your front yard. You frown, narrowing your eyes slightly.
Great, it’s that annoying kid again. You thought while walking towards your car, bad mood already start starting.
What’s he even doing here anyway? He’s been here every morning creating that same noise and he doesn’t even live in this neighbourhood.
After unlocking and getting in your car, you start the engine whilst eyeing the kid at the back of your c
23. Befriend Me - Jake English x Reader
It was you 17th birthday, you didn’t want to do anything with your friends this year, for one they were all busy and didn’t really have time to go. You didn’t fret though. Your parents promised you that you would get to go on a special trip, just the three of you. You arrived at the campground, the forest trees a dark shade of green, and the sky, a beautiful shade of blue, not a cloud in sight. You all set up your tents, your parents are giving you space, so the tents are spread quite far apart.
You stepped out of your finished tent and looked around, there were other families in the area as well, most with younger children than yourself. You told your parents you were going to check out the forest for a bit, they replied with their favorite line “Be Careful.” You walked slowly taking in the scenery, until you bumped into a taller looking boy.
“Ow… I’m so sorry!” You said softly.
“It’s quite alright dear.” He look
Water Runs in My Veins I break the surface and feel the waves embrace my into their icy, yet soothing arms. Once I am completely immersed, every inch of my skin tingles. My bones seem to melt to match the temperature of the water, and my movements become fluid. I deftly plunge deeper, feeling both the cold and the warmth rush past me with every stroke. The pulse of the ocean beats against my skin; it is alive. I open my eyes to take in the scene. I can't see clearly, the images are blurred. Still, I can make out soft hues of color. I reach out and feel the hard, smooth surface of a rock, resting amongst others. I feel a rigid plant, and my hand even grazes the backs of a couple of slimy fish. With each connection made by my senses, I feel a rush of adrenaline. I am truly unlimited when I'm under the sea; my fears have been washed away by the white waves.
Growing excited, I continue to venture deeper into the dark depths. Soon, I feel wisps of seaweed brush up against me, tickling
Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess and a handsome prince. The prince was a little older but the princess didn't mind. He was like a brother but very, very cute!
But the princess had an evil, mean, stinky older sister who always took the prince away from her! This made the princess very sad and angry!
She wished she was older...that way she could have the prince all to herself!! So one day she prayed to the stars and wished to be older!
"AND IT CAME TRUE!!!" Brianna screeched in her room. She stood in front of her mirror and struck a few poses. The clothes draped on her, and the heels were way too big for her feet. They were heels, bright red ones from mother's closet! Her dress of choice was the most beautiful one out of her mom's closet- a lovely blue sparkly dress which flowed outward like a mermaid dress. However, when Brianna wore it, it looked like a bag.
That's not all she had "borrowed." Her mother's jewelry always lay in the jewelry box on the dresser. It was
Vacant to Begin With"It's got to be here somewhere", the air-headed bimbo pondered aloud. After all, that necklace cost a lot of money - her ex-boyfriend's money - so there was no way she was leaving it in the damn jungle to get eaten by a wild animal.
Although it was not the trinket that would allure and seduce the senses of the hungrier jungle denizens this day - she was the only prize on their mind. Helen Flanagan, the 23 year old British 'actress', had been to the jungle before for the reality TV show 'I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here!', and having ignored the 'luxury items' rule, had smuggled her then-favourite necklace along for the ride. One morning of bathing in the camp's lagoon later, and the sparkly accessory was lost good and proper. But now that the acting offers were drying up, and the reality TV jobs were getting more and more obscure, the dazzling beauty with the obvious lack of brain power (and good manners) was looking to up her finance in any way she could. Even if that meant heading
-Cure for Nightmares--Cure for Nightmares-
"Teacher...." Meta quietly whispered to the elder. "Teacher, could you get up?"
The tiny Puffball's voice went unheard, however. He knew his teacher was a heavy sleeper, and that trying to wake him up with a soft, quiet voice would be ineffective. He thought of yelling to wake him up, but he didn't want to wake Teacher Gordon who was resting in the other room. The little Puffball decided to jump on his bed and slightly shake his wings. He hoped his teacher would hurry and wake up.
"Stp...shking.....my..wngs...." Bate mumbled into his pillow when he felt something touch his wings. He had a good idea who it was, but he was too tired to deal with him today. The elder bucked his wings in hope that he would stop.
"Teacherrrr...." He heard the soft whines of his student. He tried to ignore it, but unfortunately, Meta wa
HomesickI am the river's son,
my arteries flowing turquoise
and turning to rapids
rushing around my frame,
filling me with this sense
of buoyancy, minnows
tickling my sternum.
I am the river's son.
My palms caress each
silty shoreline, every
battered bank and bend,
and these places I know
so well become me
as my fingerprint,
even the bridge above me
inflamed by the afternoon
sun-glow, burning rusty and
the steel blue sky.
I am the river's son;
I bring my home along
like hermit crab,
where I step
I pull water from the earth.
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More