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
Becoming Professional (MLP TF)Warning: This story contains Pinkie Pie becoming somepony who has no sense of humor. If you don’t want this to happen to Pinkie Pie, please do not read. Thank you.
In Sugarcube Corner, Pinkie Pie was busy making some baked goods, when a pair of Unicorns, a pregnant mare and a well built stallion, came in and went up to the counter. The pink pony saw them and quickly went up to them.
“Hi! Welcome to Sugarcube Corner, how may I help you?” Pinkie asked, even though she knew that these ponies were new to Ponyville, she couldn’t help but feel that she has always known them, but right now, she has more important stuff at the moment, like serving these ponies.
The stallion spoke, “I would like to buy some cookies and a cake, my wife, Blue Cross, seems to be craving them,” this caused the mare in question to giggle.
“I am pregnant, I can’t help that I
SupernaturalxReader - It Runs in the FamilySupernaturalxReader - It Runs in the Family
Setting: After Gabriel's 'death'
Contains: You guys watch Supernatural, I think you got it.
Oh right, this is based off an imagine from supernaturalimagine.tumblr.com "Imagine Sam and Dean finding out you're a nephilim and Gabriel is your father." There are some amazing writer's on there so you should go check it out~ and their imagines are pretty cool. X3
I didn't really know much about my dad. All I knew was that he was an angel. Specifically an archangel, Gabriel. My mom didn't tell me much about him. Only that he was often like a trickster to other people but he had fallen in love with my mom. My mom died, cancer. Gabriel shouldn't of had known. How would he if he's dead? At least, that's what I heard from the demons. Alright, so basically after I turned 18 and learned how to use most of my powers properly that's what I start
Berrylicious Part 1
“I don’t really wanna be the queen,
I really don’t want to live this…”
With those final words, she strummed the last cord on her guitar as the music died down. She took a breath and said, “Thank you all.”
There was applause in the room, even a few people stood up to do so. Babs smiled as she packed up her guitar in its case and strolled down the steps of the stage. The young woman, rather white and around 22 or so, returned to her seat in the restaurant, brushing her light blonde hair from her face. It was open mike night at one of favorite hangouts, where the owners let anyone up to sing and play for the customers. It cost a few bucks, but she didn’t mind. Babs loved to sing and play her guitar even though she wasn’t exactly great at singing in front of large