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All His LoveI dashed after my trainer as tears streamed down my face. I had been newly released, for what reason I don't know but all I really knew was that I was somewhere scary, somewhere unknown.
"Please don't go!" I screamed as I flattened my red-orange ears, speeding up when I met my trainer's calf muscles. "Please don't," I said again, looking up at him with my brown eyes pleading and tears streaming down my face. My six tails drooped as he sneered at me in disgust. Next to him, his Houndoom growled.
"Pathetic piece of shit," he said, kicking me in the chest as I flew a bit and landed on the ground, going into a small coughing fit. "I see no need to have a weak ass Pokémon like you, especially since you refuse to fight." He ordered his Houndoom to attack then and the Devils Dog raced for me and bit at me, getting one of my legs as I yelped in pain and more tears streamed down my face. The Houndoom let go, revealing four nasty bites that streamed bright red blood. I whimpered as I tried
Soul Silver Nuzlocke Chapter 1Deaths: 0
I sat up groggily in my plush bed, looking around the room. Downstairs, there was talking and the sound of the front door slamming shut. I carefully placed one of my feet on the floor, afraid that the slightest sound would make my mom freak out, and stood up slowly, slinking to my wardrobe.
I didn't dare look at the time. I didn't dare make more movement than I was doing already. Reaching into the open doors, I pulled out a short sleeved light blue t-shirt and jean shorts along with a blue backpack, white ankle socks, and white walking shoes. Putting everything on, I slowly crept down the stairs and was met by my mothers large, not to mention creepy, grin.
"Hello, Rip. I see you're finally awake," She said with an insane twitch of her eye. "Your friend Ethan was just here with his Marill. They were playing hide and seek. That reminds me... Elk from next door wanted you. Why don't you go see what he wants, dear?" I felt the blood in my veins rush a
Blue Eyes in FlamesWhen the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, holding sharper swords than normal, not that she could get away. There's one man dressed in black holding an unlit torch, with a mask over his face to prevent his death. His father raises his arm, and the torch is lit.
She locks her gaze to his, and he blinks at her. It's like she expects him to prevent it. He couldn't, though, he can't. She scares him, w
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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