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Drug Raid in a Lighting storm.The atmosphere crackled with the aftermath. A sulphurous tinge lay on the edge of their scent, announced by the rain that started to hit their vests like bullets.
The barrels of guns were pointed at closed doors. Taut muscles shivered in frozen anticipation, the heavy rain plucked at their nerves until they could hear themselves crackling within.
A roaring white lined the figures of ten men. From their parted lips, breath mingled with the new wave of burnt air. A metallic taste settled on their tongue, a wisp of nervous blood swirled in their mouths.
Light beyond the windows glowed like embers. The silhouettes of guns were twirled like whip handles. As lightning passed, the outline of rabid, shouting mouths were accompanied by raucous shouts that ascended like a kettle on the boil.
Names passed venomously, the drunken stupors of arrogance and fury grew darker and denser. Lighting struck again, twice at once. Like whips frayed from one strike too many.
Writers Block- 265 wordsLines of gibberish are scrawled on the white paper. Symbols mesh with matted letters and numbers, her trembling hands cause the ink to bristle.
Her mind‘s bile is on the paper, confused, misspelt. Small hints of lucidity fly fleetingly, escaping birth with their cruel wile.
But there is no flawless verse, only the half skinned, half boned ideas of corpses slain in some inner battle, mangled by the pressure of their expulsion, her curse.
She throws herself against a wall. Black is hurled on the paper as black rage flows through her veins. Her visions vainly call.
Her ideas are crumpled for their imperfections, the orb of cracked hopes rolls to the littered floor.
On the mountain top of excellence, all the Greats beckon; unrolling their long, well acclaimed scrolls. She climbs in vain against the pull of a wallowing oblivion.
An icy void hollows her fingers and warps the words that arise. The emptiness crystalizes, staunching the flow of her thoughts. Snatches of slowly suffocating
Farmer's musingThere is a dream I cannot escape. A dream where my fields of plump corn shimmer and glint like a river of gold. Between a regal blue sky and gilded stalks, these colours of kings lull me further into the dream.
Then the alarm clock rings, it is a complaint and not a greeting, a prod to move my mind from my dream to the stark reality.
My young corn has prematurely aged, what should be a pale green sheen is a yellow, mottled paper crunching under my grasp like a child's fragile bones. It's drooping into the cracks as if it wants to return to its mother earth. But that earth is dead, broken under the heavy hands of greed.
Frost and fire comes and ravages cities and farms because of earth's waxing anger and quaking stability. But the only green things talked about are green dollars.
Politicians, sleek in word and gesture mesmerize all with honeyed words of support and unity. They are the proudest leaders in fair weather and the most debase deserters in foul storms. Their promises are the b
TSFS Chapter 4 part 1Janile pored over the data pad with hungry care, the days and nights passing like dreams. Sometimes, as Kass leaned in her doorway and watched her obliviously focusing on that pale glowing screen, he wondered if there was something else between her and this Revan: It was a question he would not ask, because he knew she would not answer.
One day, she called them together, and sitting at the head of the table, laid down the datapad looking upon it with sleep-starved eyes misty with joy.
"I know where Revan is." She smiled wanly.
"Where Revan could be." corrected Mission. "I want to find Rev just as much as you, but raising your hopes will never guarantee you results."
"Don't paint the Sith on the wall Mission, it is a glimmer of hope, I will not let you take that from me." She said lowly, as if she was a starved dog snarling at a rival for her bone.
Silence: the monster had manifested in her insecurity, and everyone now saw the shame that painted her face crimson.
Silieth- Contest entry- Theme- Relationships.It was a sea composed of the people who were missing the last piece of their lives; each one of these lost, lonely people with a puzzle piece instead of a hand, waiting to lock into another and complete themselves.
Some of them walked mournfully though the crowd with limbs splintered from a combination that violently failed. Some of them were still struggling to keep their hands together, their bodies quaking as their pieces started to slip each other's grasp.
As the creamy mass of people clotted and separated with time, most of the torn limbs were healed, but in some, the cracks crept insidiously to their core, and soon the fractured body crumbled as they screamed in silence.
He walked through the crowd with a splintered, quivering arm, injured horribly from a separation, and still trying to beckon his other half who was swallowed by the blankness.
Far away in another quarter of searching and broken people, She had tried hard to keep their pieces together, but he had left with a clear
A writers wings.An egg cracked; the ivory orb splintered as each delicate limb stretched out of its prison. The translucent fetus writhed in the warm morning air, and when the sunny beak finally found its voice, he screamed.
The pen scratched the paper, her unsure hands trembling as she imprinted her amateurish thoughts on the parchment, her ideas like a premature babe.
Days and nights circled the forest like dancing lovers; he cried with delight as his mother brought him the savory inhabitants of the forest, each rosy and plump piece of flesh feathering his wings and strengthening the flexible muscle beneath his gauzy skin.
She devoured the advice of others and thought of her ideas. She nursed her premature babe with the nourishment of experience borrowed from the wise script of the ancients.
He clambered to the edge of the nest, his vivid claws clasping the russet network of twigs as he peered below him: It was a world of luscious green, mottled with the rich ebony of fertile soil and
Tossed Salad.Shafts of illuminated rays stretched across the room, white bed sheets reflected the suns glory until it radiated like a holy veil. A pair of ebony eyelashes flicked off the lead of sleep; limbs stretched across the sprawled sheets and hands gathered folds which formed milky waves.
Bare feet floated above the floor before touching down, drowsy steps dragging across it before a splash of reality washed away the misty remnants of sleep.
The sun had bid the world a grand greeting and was now steadily curving across the sky. A bicycle was seen darting along the black tar. Porcelain hands grasping ebony handlebars as if she would be swept away as the world passed her.
She parked, tires warm and sticky from the heat, and walked into the vaulted market, an open cathedral for the reaped goods.
The beams of the building were skeletal, glowing with sunlight that cascaded through seams and slits in the roof until it looked as if the plump produce was streaked with molten gold.
Crimson apples nest
Sculpture.It started out as a block of stone, waiting to be born into something immortal that would last centuries of snow and sun. The vision in my mind was still blurry, I could hardly believe that this crass and blank stone could be molded into delicate cloth folds that formed mysterious shadows or delicate brows that either arched in laughter or furrowed in anguish.
I molded the shadows of my thoughts into the material; yet even after I had given it an echo of form it was still a faceless glob, uncertain of its future, and unsure of its steps.
My world rotated through sunny days and snowy hours. My hand kept on cultivating the white sterile stone, its hardness mocked me, soft tinkles of the hammer could not break its stubbornness. I forced upon it the stern and steady pounding of a chisel; stony flakes floating away on an unseen breeze.
When the sunlight reflected off my growing creation, my heart warmed with the pleasure of achievement, but clouds
England x Sister!Reader: Gay or British?
"Why do you keep staring at me?"
"Because," [First] [Last] said, stretching out the word. Eyes narrowed, she stared at Arthur Kirkland. "I see you hanging out with a bunch of. . . guys."
Arthur is a man with messy blonde hair and emerald eyes. He proclaims himself as a gentleman, but his language when he's angry goes against it. Right now he was sitting at a table at a cafe with a newspaper in hand.
[First] is the a younger sister that uses vulgar language from time to time. She was a little strange to others, for she plays some video games like Call of Duty, or Pokemon. She had [h/c] hair that was usually shiny, and [e/c] eyes that were currently scrutinized at Arthur.
Two cups laid on the white fabric of the table. Arthur had specifically ordered earl grey tea, while [First] asked for [drink]. Francis Bonnefoy was the owner of this cafe, in whic
Romania X Neko Reader
Romania X Reader
A man is walking down the street. He has strawberry blond hair with crimson eyes and pale skin. He is wearing a dark red overcoat with a white shirt and black pants underneath and black boots. He is strolling along the side walk calmly.
“Go away you filthy beast!” a voice shouts
The man turns to see another man swinging a broom at a cat. The cat has messy (fur/color) fur and fear filled (eye/color) eyes. The cat yowls when the broom hits it and it falls into the street. The man huffs and returns inside. The other man runs to the poor creature.
“Hey, are you ok” he ask petting it gently
It turns to him and meows painfully. He sees it’s a girl and also notices her leg at an odd angle.
‘It must be broken’ he thinks
He scoops her up in his arms. And walks away.
He returns home he puts her down on the couch and leaves only to return with a first aid kit.
“I don’t know much about taking care of cats but I will do my bes
Levi x Reader: After All This Time? (9) (f/n)'s eye shot open immediately, before she could react to William's lips on hers. Levi shoved him and pushed him against the wall. He had his arm on William's neck, very ready to strangle him. William, however, remained unfazed by his attack.
"Why were you kissing my wife?!" Levi shouted, adding pressure on William's neck. There was something about this man that Levi could not trust. And something that he didn't like as well. (f/n) was confused. She woke up feeling warm and soft lips and now the owner of those lips was being strangled.
"I'm going to kill you for that!" Levi shouted once more, about to strangle him to death. (A/N: LOL)
William got bored of Levi's childish threats and his not so effective strength and shoved Levi off, fixing his tie that Levi had ruined.
"Levi! What the hell are you doing in my room?" (f/n) questioned, keeping a stoic yet irritated face. She looked at William threateningly while he
Rainbow Dash x Male!Pegasus!Reader
A kick start
Fandom: My Little Pony: FiM
Rainbow Dash x Famous!Male!Pegasus!Reader
My Little Pony FiM and its characters © Whoever created it [too lazy to google]
This story © RecklessAlbinoChibi
You/Yourself © Whoever you want, dear.
The young Pegasus couldn't contain her excitement. Her turquoise wings twitched and her hooves fidgeted beneath her. Rainbow Dash couldn't stand still, no matter hard she tried nor how much her friends sighed in annoyance of her antics. To say she was joyful or happy would be an understatement. But today, and today only, would her friends allow this behaviour without uttering so much as a single complaint. She pounced up and down, her violet eyes eagerly searching throughout the crowd of gather ponies. The whole of Ponyville seemed to be gathered here, all with the hopes of meeting one of the most famous pony's in all of Equestria [
An Alchemist's Experience
Proofed by: NorthboundFox
“Just a few more ingredients…..” Ozzy muttered as he bounced around his workshop. Dried herbs and plants hung from the rafters of his basement brushed against his face as he furiously swatted them aside muttering under his breath “dried baby’s breath…… dried baby’s breath…… nooo…. nope…nope… nope…. AH HA!” he exclaimed happily as he jumped off the stool beaming as he thrust the bundle triumphantly at his mate. Jenna sighed and shook her head slowly, “looks the same as all the others to me.” she said with a shrug. Ozzy’s expression drooped, “you know I could teach you to do this yourself you know right?” He walked over to a small pot hung over a Bunsen burner and dropped 3 of the flowers in. “I know, I know…” Jenna said as she padded behind him and nuzzled his neck, “but I’d
England x Reader [Oneshot] [[Commission]]
England/Arthur Kirkland x Reader
Commission for SweetDarkJen
Hetalia and it's characters © Hidekaz Himaruya
This story © RecklessAlbinoChibi
You © Yourself, or whoever you want
Her brightly coloured trainers clicked against the dirtied school floor with each step that she took. The sounds of her footsteps meshed together with the shouting voices of the many students that attended Gakuen Hetalia High as they either attempted the push past the crowds and get to class or mucked around in the halls. However, it was mostly the latter. Her footing was slow and tired, a legit sign that showed her destination. She was heading towards the most hated subject ever. Maths.
It was the last lesson of the day; both a blessing and a curse. Her [favourite colour] school bad was slung lazily over
Reader x Trickster!Nepeta: Egg Coloring"EY YO BITCHIE-"
"Oh my god she's still alive are you kidding me?"
Your name is ___ ___ and your... matesprit, Nepeta Leijon, Tac as you call her, is frantically pounding on your door.
"BITCHIE LEMME IN I REALLY NEED TO MAKE PLANS WITH MEW AND YOUR CUTE BUTT."
"Do we have to?" you groaned. You were literally laying on the floor of your cute little one-story apartment. Your Siamese cat, Simi, licked your nose. Simi was fond of the troll and in return, the troll was fond of Simi.
"Uh. Well not really but I'd sure as hell purrefur mew did." you heard her make a face. "And befur mew ask, no I didn't kill anyone this time. Da po-po let me furreeeeee~" the Trickster chirped.
"Fine." you simply said, wiggling over to the door and sitting up, staring at the oversized wood plank. "What's the password?"
"THERE'S A PASSWORD?!"
You stifled a laugh, merely smirking and standing up, stepping back to dodge the olive blood's attempted tackle-pounce as you opened the door. "Hello t
CrystalJessica wants to be a vet when she grows up, that means a doctor for animals. My mum told me it was very difficult to be a vet because you had to go to school for a long time (which I wouldn’t mind) and that lots of people want to work with making animals better and there are only a small number of jobs for those people. I’m not sure she’s right about that because I always see dead animals on the roads on the way to Dad’s house if we don’t go the motorway way. If animals are still dying outside then I don’t think there are enough vet doctors to go around. Adults are like that sometimes though; you have to let them think that you believe them. It’s just easier not to argue.
I think Jessica would make a great vet. She has three dogs, all of different kinds. She had a greyhound called Mario, a spaniel called Lucy and a bison - no, a bichon frise called Dahlia. She’s a little white one and only has half a bark but she licks my hands when I go
A Southern Story: Chelsea at the supermarketHey! How you doing, I haven’t seen you since before the reception!
Aww, that’s good to hear, glad everything’s going okay for you! Me? Oh, I’m just bracing myself for this coming football season. I got stuck in charge of the cheerleaders again, and you know how that turned out LAST year. Put all that effort into getting skinny, ah, well, you know, not quite so hugely fat, and they all looked at me doing that and went back to stuffing their faces.
I’ve already made up my mind, I’m not even going to try this year to make these girls lose any weight. It's down to them, if they want to look good, they can stop stuffing their greedy little faces. If they want to make terrible messes out of themselves, then go ahead, have that fourth plate of nachos. I’m just gonna sit back and let them do it.
We had our first meeting last week and guess who just waltzed in ten minutes late, shoving a Hershey’s bar in her face? Kaitlyn O’Leary, reme
Final ThoughtsMy trinkets and pictures are scattered around my shelves, at every turn photographs appear like small wormholes to the past, trinkets lie gathering dust like forgotten relics.
They are not dear, for they are weak imitations of the emotion felt in those times. Terrified of losing those sweet moments I attempted to preserve them in tangible things. Of these I have many, and confident of their immortality I had allowed the real to slip away from thought. My life is a swirling mass of memory; I lie here and remember little , save the few orbs of the sweetest remembrance like pearls glistening in a pile of decayed rubbish.
Eighty years of life wasted away in the cell I called life, even the gems of my thoughts are darkened, and it is not because death's shadow is finally looming great over me. They are flawed, incomplete, small faceless blobs that send only pleasant warmth rippling through my heart. I am grasping for sharper images, reaching in the dark for an ethereal thought that only exh
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More