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Soul Burn: Last Moments The bed hardly made a sound as she laid Garrett down atop the mattress. His paper thin body floated, while her weight created valleys as she lowered herself down beside him. Their bedroom was silent, the air heavy; she could hear the rattling in his lungs with each breath he drew in.
"I'm not oblivious, Garrett. I knew that as soon as F'neir died your body would begin to deteriorate." Amanda reached up and cradled his face against her palm, her thumb stroking his cheek. "I just hoped the process would take time, a lot of time.
Garrett snorted. "Hey, get that sad look off your face. I could still kick someone's ass if I wanted to."
Amanda wrapped her arm around his chest. His ribs visibly pushed against his skin and scar tissue. She pulled herself into him, her lips fluttering down just below his collar bone. "Shush. You need to rest."
Soul Burn: Death Amanda sat surrounded by a tableful of councilmen and traveling ambassadors. The only familiar face in the crowd was Logan, simultaneously conducting this meeting while watching over her. Her black clothes matched the bruises under her eyes. She cradled her face against the palms of her hands, hair falling limp against her cheeks. She didn't want to deal with this right now; their arrogant words, their pitying looks cast down upon her, their plans on what to do with him. Him. Just the thought of his name made tears spring up behind her eyes, but she bit her lip, refusing to let them well over.
"Well, he may have been a hero, but he didn't exactly have a clean history."
"...can't believe their going to build a memorial in his name."
"Ah, he's just a corpse now. Dead bodies don't deserve much-"
Amanda slammed her fist against the tab
Soul Burn: Choked "What were you fools thinking? Protecting women! Hah!" Laughter rolled out of this bastard, his chest shook with it. "Women aren't worth anything. Certainly not your lives."
Amanda turned her head to view the damage he had inflicted on her teammates. Garrett and Logan sprawled out in the dirt on the floor of this cave. Both were covered in their own blood and barely hanging on to consciousness. Gods damn it! I've lost track of Naz. This was not a situation she wanted to be in; two friends on the brink of death, one missing, and she herself looking this murderer in the eye.
Please Naz, please be alright. I'm going to need your help. Amanda forced herself up off the ground, gritting her teeth. She was covered head to toe in bruises and cuts. Her muscles began to spasm, voicing their objection to her slow, labored movement. She barely had any strength left. But you have to do this. Y
Soul Burn: Observation Amanda stood in the shade cast by the northern wall the Academy’s emerald green courtyard, watching the younger students practice today’s lesson in physical attacks. She was stationed here not only to instruct and correct mistakes, but also to provide medical care. Just in case things got out of hand. Students were paired together based on their opposition in strengths; they differed in everything from physical size, aptitude, and personality.
“The goal of today’s lesson is for you to incapacitate your partner while inflicting a minimal amount of damage. You’ve trained alongside each other for years; you know their strengths and their weaknesses. Out think them, and take them down,” she paused, slowly sliding her worn brown leather gloves from her hands. “Go.”
Some students dived into their fights, others stood still and assessed their partners. Aman
Morphological Bairn glared piercingly at the woman across from him. She winked back, the color of her hair slowly shifting from red to brown. Her eyes shone a brighter blue. Her skeletal structure melted and reformed under her face.
She was toying with him.
First impressions don’t matter much anymore, but he already didn’t like her. In one fluid motion she stepped forward, turned, and let her shoulders rest against the wall. The brick scratched against the fabric of her clothes, which were-
Nope, he didn’t care. Not one bit. Especially not with her willingly flaunting herself like this in public. She leaned into him, whispering, like a child sharing a secret with a friend.
“Come on, big guy. Loosen up a little.” She rolled her shoulder into him. “Play a little game with me.”
Gonei am woken up
from dreams of you
burnt brain matter
in the hollow of my
thump, thump, thumping
goes my heart
my pulse snaking
venom through my veins now
blackening my skin where
bruises blossom and bloom have
taken up residence un
Lock and Keyi keep an image of you,
you know, caged inside my head
he talks to me wonderfully,
and oh, how he smiles
but his eyes are dead.
it may be high time for me
to hand you the key
Birthday WishesI listen to your words
like blowing out the candles
on a birthday cake.
I squeeze my eyes tight,
through the smoke.
You, Me, Your Clone (New Intro?) "Anna?" Louis called from under the covers. "Is something wrong? Come back to bed." He pulled back the sheet she had tucked against him and patted the mattress. Anna stood by the window for a second longer looking down at the empty street below. Shadows crept around the orange glow of the street lights. She shivered and, finally, turned away. Louis watched her expectantly as she slipped back into the bed. He flicked the covers over her, pulling her to him until their noses touched. "You're cold." She tucked her face against his neck, soaking up his body heat. "You want to tell me what's going on?"
Louis could feel her mumble something, her lips brushing over his skin. He sighed, prompting her to repeat herself. "I said I couldn't sleep."
"You wanna talk about it?"
"You'll laugh at me."
"What else am I here for?" He laid her down on her ba
Lust. France x Reader
She never looked nice.
She looked like art, and art wasn't suppose to look nice;
it was suppose to make you feel something.
—Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor & Park
“God, he looks so gorgeous.” [Name] mumbled out of nowhere, taking a sip of her own drink. Eliza gave her an odd look, but it seemed that the girl didn't take notice of this and continued to babble about something that would probably horrify Eliza. “I know boys aren't supposed to be gorgeous. But he is, he really is. I won't deny that.”
And Eliza did look horrified. Not only horrified, but confused too. She probably had no idea what [Name] was talking about. Was she drunk? She probably was, but she doesn't necessarily get drunk that easily; Eliza knew that for a fact. She had been with [Name] longer than any of her [past] boyfriends have. “What the fuck are you
There is a Goddess in the RainDrops of water tumble towards the Earth, miniscule craters forming upon their impact. A gust of wind causes each droplet to spiral into the bark of trees and leaves tremble at their touch. Clouds pull apart their seams, their misty fingertips leaving trails along the sky. Summer is busying himself with painting the world in lush hues as Rain brushes past him. He smiles at her, but she does not smile back. Dewdrops garnish her shoulders as she continues to ignore him. Summer does not breathe easy as he begins to pour a deeper green into the grass. His breath flutters as Rain twirls up thunderstorms. Drizzling the ground with lightning, she smiles.
Hands wet with soil Summer looks to her, though she is engaged in her best effort to flood the earth. With a flimsy touch he reaches out, whispering in warm breezes. She stops. He hangs violent reds against the sky and drapes soft whites to dull the color. A pink haze covers the land as Rain scowls. She begins her tumultuous course to sit upon
Finceline 2 Cap.9: El verdadero amor de Finn
en el capitulo anterior
Finn y Marceline se encontraban afuera de la casa del árbol…
Finn: Estas actuando muy raro últimamente Marcy…-dijo el muchacho viéndola confundido-
Marceline: Perdón, por lo de hace un momento, es que es algo muy urgente lo que te tengo que decir…-decía la vampira pensando que la PF ya había ido a hablar con él-
Finn: Ok ¿Qué es eso tan urgente que me tienes que decir?-pregunto Finn con el más mínimo interés-
Marceline: Te amo…-dijo la vampira viéndolo a los ojos muy seriamente-
Cap.9: "¿Qué debería hacer?"
Finn: ¿Eh? ¿Q-que has dicho Marcy?-pregunto Finn nuevamente-
Marceline: ¡Te dije que te amo, idiota!-le gritó mientras le veía directamente a los ojos y sus mejillas se t
Quien es Ella? Capitulo 1 Parte 2
Que desastre, se supone que hoy vengo a Danville, estoy en el avion junto con mi gran familia y equipo, justo en estos momento estoy casi a la mitad del vuelo y me toco de asiento con mi hermanita querida, ella en estos momentos lee en una obra de "Romeo y Julieta" mientras que yo simplemente veo el vacio que esta en mi derecha donde esta la ventana, viendo nubes y oceano.
- Chico: hola preciosa - dijo este hablando con mi hermana - soy roy y ¿tu eres?
- Sam: so-soy samanta y.....- dijo mi hermana tartamudeando e interrumpida
- Thomas: y yo thomas hermana de esta niña - dijo interrumpiendo su "conversacion"
- Chico: ah bueno, adios - se va triste y descepcionado....excelente
- Sam: ¿tienes que ser asi? - dijo ella reclamandome
- Thomas: ¿asi como? - dijo finjiendo no captar su punto
Finceline 2 Cap.10: El verdadero amor de Finn
en el capitulo anterior
Marceline: ¿De nosotros?-hizo una pregunta retórica, para luego continuar diciendo-Finn, te dije que estoy enamorada de ti…pero luego de que me entere de que la PF jamás vino a verte, te dije que lo olvidaras que olvidaras todo…solo has eso, olvídalo todo-decía la vampiresa viendo el cielo que estaba repleto de estrellas-
Finn: ¿Olvidarlo todo? …¿Así tan fácil? ¿Cómo puedes decirme eso? ¿Ya te olvidaste que tú me besaste, que me trataste de detener cuando la DP salió corriendo? ¿No eras tú la que querías hablar conmigo, sino porque te quedaste a esperarme?-hizo una tras otras preguntas que no necesitaban una respuesta-
Marceline: Ah… ¡Agotas mi paciencia chiquillo tonto!-grito Marceline acercándose a él y continuo diciendo- ¡Esta bien! ¡Quiero que te enamores de mí! ¡Que ol
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter side shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch wide gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood twisted crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
La insignia imposibleEn la ciudad de Danville hay un grupo de chicas exploradoras, han conseguido todas las insignias posibles, desde las de altos riesgos, hasta la de comer lombrices, esta es la historia de una chica de ya 14 años ella es Issabela García-Sapiro la líder de este impresionante grupo y en el intento de conseguir la ultima insignia de todas la de ''Pedir una cita a un chico'' la mas difícil prueba de todas le aguarda.
En la cabaña de las chicas exploradoras
Grechen: ¡¡Chicas, chicas!!-corre con un libro en la mano
Mily: Que pasa Grechen
Joly: ¿Que les pasa a Issabela?¿esta bien?
Grechen: Si, solo que e visto su historial de insignias y...
Mily: ¡¿Qué pasa?!
Grechen: Solo le falta una insignia
Todas: ¡No es posible!
Grechen: Lo es mirad-abre el libro que es el registro de insignias
Las chicas lo miran
Moly: Es cierto y encima la que le falta
Joly: No la puede conseguir
Grechen: Y lo peor
Discription But I cannot describe love only in the touch of your hands, or the kiss of your lips. I can
only describe it in the way the air is thick between us as we are near each other, as if
gravity itself longs for us to touch. The way an itching ache fills me when you are far away,
urging and begging me to curl you up and hold you in my chest. Though along side it is a
variable peace, knowing that though you are far, you are still close to me. I clasp unto
myself the rhythm and rasp of your steady breathing, the mixed scent of your skin after a
long day and soap and colonge. I hold in me the nuances of your voice; soft and sharp,
whispered and story-like. In me, it all feels full and heavy and light; it feels exciting and
soothing and whole. It feels like love.
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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