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SocksSocks:
A Work of Historical Fiction

These days people don't fully comprehend how important clothes really are. Clothes in them selves have become merely cloth to too many people. Perhaps the most overlooked and disrespected piece of clothing today is the sock. Socks are not just devices of warmth and comfort or hilarity in it's purest form, as most people believe; no, they are much more. Socks teach us lessons you could not begin to comprehend until the sock teaches them to you itself. Considering that it is very unlikely a sock will actually talk to you, I'll attempt to convey the message instead. To understand the sock is to understanSocks4 years ago in Historical

Yautja dictionary~~~Beings, gods and family ties~~~

Yaut'ja / Yautja : Predator Species Name

Kainde Amedha : Hard Meat (Xenomorphs)

Pyode Amedha : Soft Meat (Humanoids)

Ek'so-Oota : Combat Exosuit

Ooman : Human

Jehdin : (a.) One; Solitary; Individual. (b.) An un-blooded warrior.

Mei-hswei : Brother

Mei-jadhi : Sister

Paya : The Yaut'ja Warrior God

Cetanu : The Yaut'ja God of Death (The Dark Warrior)

D'yeka : The Ultimate Prey (Mythological)

Hult'ah : Watcher

Vor'mekta : Stalker

Kv'var-de : Hunter

Sain'ja : Warrior

P'kya'uha : Sniper

Nrak'ytara : Guardian

N'yaka-de : Master

Mar'cte : Killer

Kujhade : Destroyer

U'darahje : Abomination

Kha'Yautja dictionary6 years ago in Historical

Stalemate :APH RussiaxUS:

It was a cold winter night when it all began. A chilly American was wrapped up tight in his sweater, his hands covered in wool-lined leather gloves and his neck in a thick flag-print scarf, made from yarn. It had been his Christmas present last year, for times such as this when he had to venture out to a late night diner, snagging some food before he turned in for the evening.

These days were stressful. Ever since the war had ended, Russia was a hot button for him. They were so close geographically and yet as people, so far. He was in the allies at one point but in the end, his statements had all been true. He was loyal to himself, not any oStalemate :APH RussiaxUS:3 years ago in Historical

VadhaI have seen two blossomings of the Kurinci flower and twenty-four black monsoons since Kalinga Magha first landed on the shore of our island Kingdom. He arrived as the rainy season ended – greenery erupting from every hollow, pepper vines snaking up every tree. Cranes and peacocks drank from the bowls of mangrove roots, elephants rolled and snorted in watering holes, and the mists were slinking back to stalk the lush valleys of the Hill Country.

The thousands of soldiers Magha brought with him trudged for days through our country's red mud, sinking in potholes and cursing their gods in all the languages of the mainland. Farmers knee-deeVadha3 years ago in Historical

The Outsiders Extra ChapterEpilogue

Four years later…

“Ponyboy!” I turn my head and see my older brother, Sodapop. He’s now nineteen, turning twenty soon. “You coming?” I nod my head and I go to the door where he is standing. Soda then opens the door and steps outside.
“Hey Darry, can I drive?”
“No, we want to get there safely,” Darry replies.
Same old Darry.
I get my shoes on and go outside to join my brothers.
“You alright Ponyboy?” asks Darry.
“I’m fine.”
A lie.
I can’t tell Darry how I feel. We get along better now, but things still aren’t perfect. I get into the car, siThe Outsiders Extra Chapter5 years ago in Historical

The more you know

I hate playing with dinosaurs. Common sense would dictate that they would be excellent poker players, as they are incapable of facial expression. I've deduced that when they lunge at you and eat your face, they're displeased, but I don't know if you could call that a facial expression per se. It's like Wild West movies where everybody pulls out a six-shooter, except instead of a gun, it's a dinosaur, and instead of being shot, your face gets eaten. However, I digress. My original point was that dinosaurs should be good at poker, and yet this is simply not the case. Take, for example, a game I held earlier this very evening.

We had jusThe more you know8 years ago in Historical

Stalemate 3 :RussiaxUSxUK Fic:

Three days.

It was always three days, wasn't it?

Alfred had waited three days and yet nothing. The prickly stubble began to grow like patches of scratchy weeds on his face, and his eyes were bloodshot and dreary. He had continued to come into the briefing room, half-listen to the days news and come home at night to a frosty beer from his empty refrigerator. All the while, the words that dropped from his mouth were cold and unfeeling. Ever since the night, he had felt a callus grow over his soul that detached his usually energetic zest from him. Every day was like a boring sitcom without a laugh track. He watched himself move from location tStalemate 3 :RussiaxUSxUK Fic:3 years ago in Historical

Stalemate 2 :APH RussiaxUS:

America's hand stood poised over the phone, his blue eyes fixated on it's off-white color. His eyes blurred and then focused, in and out, using his glasses as aid. In the end, he drew his hand back from the object and placed both of them in his lap, his bottom positioned on the end of his king-sized bed. He frowned, looking aimlessly among the carpeting in his bedroom, his mind wandering a thousand miles away from his head, into a less secure location.

It had been two days since he had seen Russia last. Negotiations weren't going well, and the White Houses eye was fixated on him, watching him carefully. He, too, watched. Every day he showed Stalemate 2 :APH RussiaxUS:3 years ago in Historical

Beat I met one of those Beat poets once. He said his name was Erik and I told him that my name was Eva, and after that, names didn't really seem to matter anymore. We became the type of people who were together whenever we needed each other.
Magic can happen at any time of day, week, month, year, but our type of magic always seemed to occur by night. Dancing on a bridge, under the spotlight of a street lamp, in the middle of the highway. We would sort of just groove on those neatly painted white lines on the asphalt. We'd weave in and out of them, spinning, leaping, rocking. True artists, great artists, we'd tBeat4 years ago in Historical

The placid lake, so tranquil and solemn, hides a horror that seeps through cracks. Beyond the still waters and the blades of grass lies a box: a concrete sarcophagus, supposed to subdue her. No one can subdue her. Once a queen, now a fiend, she lurks in the shadows, in the unseen. Her cloak is intangibility itself. Her crown long tarnished, lies broken, beyond the placid lagoon. Like an invisible fog, she seeps through the cracks of her sepulcher, taking with her the horrors that lie inside. She then solidifies into the monster she has become. She passes through the pale malachite grass, and even stoops down too look at the wormwood a while. Chernobyl7 years ago in Historical

The Easter Journal

April 23, 1916 – Easter Sunday

My family found it interesting that this year my twentieth birthday coincided with the rising of our Lord. I didn’t really think much of it. Perhaps I should have been somewhat proud of the similarity, but it wasn’t exactly the most pressing issue on my mind. Father got me a present this year, just like he said he would. He spent nearly all of his money to buy me a Winchester 1897 12-gauge shotgun that was smuggled into the country.

It was hard to come by ever since those damned Brits put up the imported weapons ban. But Father didn’t want me to be stuck with some German piece of junkThe Easter Journal6 years ago in Historical

If Anne Frank SurvivedThe tired face is raised towards us, and the hollow eyes beg us to take the numbers away from her skin. But we can’t. They wont go. They are there for eternity. There is a glow that surrounds her, unmistakably bright against the grey pallor of her fading self. One would imagine it came from the window that outlined her frail frame. But it surrounds her, a sunlight beam so strong it dries her salty tears from the inside out. The glow is warm, it warms her heart and attempts to touch her soul. But her skin remains cold, proving for her that it’s what is on the outside that counts.

As she sat there in front of us, it was the day of hIf Anne Frank Survived4 years ago in Historical

The Clearing: AltMalMika crept through the hallways of Masyaf, listening to the sounds of the dust and the sandstorms outside the safe sandstone walls of the fortress. It was dark in the castle, the torches had been extinguished as expected at this late hour. They only light came from the glint of an assassin guard's sword, shining silver through the murky darkness and the flash of their brown eyes, intent on rooting out an intruder who would dare set their feet in this place, this place that belonged to them.

The apprentice trembled as they glared at him, telling him with their eyes to get back in bed. He couldn't sleep. Too many monsters plagued his dreams, aThe Clearing: AltMal4 years ago in Historical

Interned to MengeleSeptember 24th, 1943, ten pm.
Auschwitz.
Under the terms of my internship to Dr. Mengele, I will recount my and my benefactor's actions during my stay here at Auschwitz camp.

I arrived at the camp via train just under three days ago, and was met at the stops by Mengele himself. He was watching the bedraggled group of prisoners being offloaded, like cattle, onto the platform.
"Sir, reporting for duty to Führer." I said, pulling off a crisp salute, but Mengele was leaning against a column and smoking a roll-up, and he didn't notice. I stepped up beside him and watched the Jews and Gypsies being sorted into two lines.
"What do you see hereInterned to Mengele6 years ago in Historical

APH: The Death of Kievan RusThe anguished cries of fallen soldiers echoed across the battlefield, mingling with the noise of skittish horses and whizzing arrows. One lone soldier, however, seemed to be holding her own against the odds. She hacked and slashed as they came at her, her long blonde hair whipping about like a white rope. It didn't seem to matter how many she cut down; there was always another to replace.
This war had been inevitable. For years the signs had all been there; the internal political turmoil, the invasions and assassinations…but she had chosen to ignore it. She paused briefly as the soldier flow stemmed a bit and she looked to the devaAPH: The Death of Kievan Rus3 years ago in Historical

APH- SumieniePłonie. Wszystko płonie.
Złowrogie świsty tną powietrze, raz po raz. Wybuchy. Huk walących się kamienic starego miasta.
Nad głową pobrzmiewa złowrogi warkot motorów. Samoloty. Rżną z karabinów maszynowych bezbronne już miasto.
Na ulicach, pośród kłębów pyłu i kurzu, przewijają się szarozielone mundury. Równomierny stukot obcasów oficerek.
Wielu… jest ich tak wielu.
Pojedyncze krzyki mężczyzn. Zrozpaczone wrzaski kobiet. Płacz dzieci. 'Moi kochani…'
Walczą. WciAPH- Sumienie3 years ago in Historical

One Meaning ::EDITED::They all stared at Alfred, wondering why he was crying so loud.

They just didn't understand; nobody ever did.

But here, in his arms, was the one person who knew him well enough to know how much pain was in his heart. He inhaled the intoxicating scent of sampaguita in her thick, dark hair, and his body relaxed.

Maria patted his back, singing a sweet lullaby. The sound was mesmerizing, so much so that it made Alfred feel like sleeping right then and there in the warmth of the girl so precious to him....

Back then, he had to leave Maria and grant her the independence she had longed for even though she was still suffering physically, emotionaOne Meaning ::EDITED::3 years ago in Historical

You...Where are you? What are you doing? Are you here beneath the sky? How did I lose you?

“What are you doing? Leave him alone!”
“I have come to take him home.”
“He doesn’t belong to you!”
“It’s fine Ludwig. I’ll be ok.”
They turned away, leaving me alone.

I had taken his hand in mine, crying; remembering all those times he used that stupid smile on me. He supported me, and cared for me when I was crumbling. He gave me what I could never get for myself. I finally knew what love was. It was warm and dry with good food and the support I needed. Now he’s gone and I feel like I’m cYou...4 years ago in Historical

Promise me you'll never

The girl held her breath, when she heard the steps, and was trying to ignore a buzzing fly, that was stubbornly tangling into her hair. Hidden behind a long red velvet curtain she couldn´t see what was going on in the room, and so she was listening to every sound very carefully. The steps were too heavy to belong to her elder sister, and they were soon gone.
The girl breathed again freely. She heard a far-away whoop, signaling that someone had just lost in this hide-and-seek. Then there was another moment, when the curtain moved a little, and small fingers grasped her skirt.
Marie breathed out with incredible relief, when she saw the Promise me you'll never3 years ago in Historical

Snow Today +APH oneshot fic+

It was snowing today in London.

No matter how many times he saw it, Alfred could always appreciate the majesty that was this city in a small, subtle way. His eyes saw the purity and beauty in all things, but this was something different. A deep, humble feeling that made him feel like he was home some how. The weight of such a history filled his heart with pride and honor to be apart of, his sky blue eyes staring up at the sky as it shook a thin layer of powder on top of the buildings, like a bottle of baby powder.

It was cold, and he almost stuck out his tongue to taste some when a person shoved into his shoulder, bustling by him in someSnow Today +APH oneshot fic+3 years ago in Historical

Halloween Special -SasuNaru-

Kakashi: Hello and welcome to "Suzuna's Halloween Special" this script contains SasuNaru scenes, so if you don't like it, then don't read it! For the rest, enjoy!

*****

At Sakura's house

Sakura: Kukukukuku... once I get my costume on, Sasuke-kun will surely love me!

Sakura:... there! Sasuke will surely like my costume! Better go to the party~

At Naruto's house

Naruto:... I can't pick what to wear, but I hope Sasuke will like any of these

Naruto:... maybe this Kitsune costume... oh fine... there! Hope Sasuke likes this... Better go to the party, I might get late

At the party

Ino: no, no. Put the banner at the center, Kiba... no right.Halloween Special -SasuNaru-4 years ago in Historical

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