So I know we're not supposed to post fanfics, but I have a really great one that fits the prompt! Like, I could change some names so that Cloud and Aeris were something like Cumulus and Ariz, but Tails has to be Tails (it's a totally awesome payoff, you'll see). And the sex scene is very short, and, if I may say so it's very tasteful and at the same time very very erotic. Sorry if it doesn't fit into some of the more puritanical “rules.” Is this something I can post here?
|# ¿ Mar 12, 2019 01:08|
|# ¿ May 28, 2022 01:23|
|# ¿ May 28, 2019 22:09|
A Forest Trial
In a sunlit grove a judge piled kindling onto smoldering coals in a stone ring set in a central glade. Behind the judge sat a smooth granite boulder, bound to which the accused thrashed as smoke spun around him. In the shade of the trees sat the townsfolk upon petrified stumps and logs.
The judge pushed an iron rod into the coals, stoaking them until the sticks lit; he cleared the smoke from his throat, "This territory has not seen a murder in generations. Yesterday Johnathan Youngelm was found stabbed to death." The community's eyes fell on the bound man. "The victim's father alleges Elijah Hilloak killed his son over the matter of a debt owed. I invoke any family to submit testimony to the courtfire."
From a pew near the fire stood a woman in fine dress. She place a heavy log into the pit, "Dear friends, and neighbors, the accusations against a member of my family are preposterous. We Hilloak are founders of this town. We set these stones, and to have our own bound to one is an effacement to all families of this community. Elijah Hilloak was obviously defending himself from an unrooted monster, and killed him before he himself could be murdered." She took the iron, and pushed the log deeper into the coals. "Thank you."
The trees of the forest swayed and creaked. A branch fell from a spindly elm at the edge of the north clearing. An elderly man stooped, and cradled the branch, crying tears onto it. All bowed their heads as he brought it to the fire, and settled it upon the flames.
The log burned, and split. Wisps of smoke poured from the cracks. The old man wiped his eyes on his sleeve, "While some of you can trace your planting back generations, I planted my own family tree. Our roots do not run as deep as the Hilloak's in this community. We have few branches. My son did not deserve to have this life ended unnaturally, and," the man coughed as the smoke grew dense. The man sobbed, but managed to say, "My son has decided to give his own testimony."
Gasps came from the crowd. Thick smoke spun into the image of a young man. The accused shouted from his rock, "This is a lie, it's outrageous. He attacked me! Now he's going to attempt again from his next life."
"Quiet," the judge said. To give testimony in the courtfire, to burn ones own branch from a family tree was to give up ones next life in the grove. The judge turned to the fire. "What peace do you have to say?"
The smoke's voice was a whisper, "Thanks be to my father and kin. Yesterday Elijah Hilloak invited me to his house. Our meeting began cordially enough, but soon he demanded additional payment for a debt we had settled. We argued. He drew a knife. I did not believe him to be serious, and I laughed." The smoke wavered from a soft breeze. When it reformed red light shone from gashes in the form's abdomen. The spirit pointed to the accused, and with a voice that crackled along with the fire, "Elijah Hilloak extinguished that life, and I burn now, before you all, so the truth may be known." With a pop the branch fell apart to ash, and the smoke blew away through the forest leaves.
Shouts from the Hilloak clan broke the silence of the crowd. "Lies!" they screamed, "Deception!" The well dress woman stood again, "Cut Elijah down now! This has gone on long enough. This community cannot trust the word of saplings!" The rabble-rousers moved to free the accused.
The massive log the woman had added exploded in the courtfire ring, throwing flames high into the tree canopy. The townsfolk recoiled from the brightness and heat. The Hilloaks retreated from the boulder. When they looked back the enormous flames bent and flickered into an aged face and spoke, "When I planted it I did not believe my family tree would be poisoned by defilers from my own blood." The stones shook to her words. "A sick branch can be pruned, but you, my kin, would be satisfied to defend the darkness that has been done. My Oak on the Hill is rotten to it's heartwood." The fire spun, and twisted itself around the granite boulder, cremating the man bound to it. "Oh dear town, you must fell my tree before the illness spreads to yours." The flames flickered, and died leaving the congregation under the shadows of the grove once again.
The people sat, some in stunned silence, while others cried. The sentence to fell a family tree had not been given in centuries. The judge's voice rose up, "Justice has been determined. Each family please chose your representative to meet here at sunrise. Bring an axe." He turned to the Hilloaks, "Collect what acorns that have dropped that your children may sow a future for themselves."
|# ¿ Jun 3, 2019 01:01|
|# ¿ Aug 7, 2019 01:30|
The Soviets sent someone into space before Yuri Gagarin but it didn't go well so they kept it a secret
word count: 1018
The First Vostok 1
The launch pushed me into my seat; the acceleration was quicker than the simulator, and this was so much louder. Major Rykov was shouting congratulations from the radio. I was making history. They said I’d see stars in less than 30 seconds.
I stopped counting after two minutes. Layers upon layers of clouds continued to speed past, like a reel of blank film projected to my viewport. Then it stopped. Everything stopped. My body braced itself on reflex, expecting to be smashed into the instrument panel in front of me from the crash… but the impact didn’t come. The ship wasn’t moving, though the altimeter spun wildly. The radio was static. “This is Vostok 1, can anyone hear me?” I switched wavelengths; maybe the Chinese or even Americans were listening. I hailed for nearly an hour until I lost my voice.
Hours passed, perhaps a day or two; I can’t be sure because the viewport never changed. The light outside never dimmed for evening. I busied myself trying every method I could think up to communicate outside of my capsule. I finally slept. I tried everything again once I woke up. This trip was supposed to take less than a day. They didn’t send me with any food, and my water had run out. Eventually my training faltered; I panicked, and unstrapped myself. I pounded my helmet, and fists against the hatch. It was bolted from the outside, I knew there was no hope to break it open. I passed out sobbing and exhausted.
When I awoke someone was smiling at me through the viewport. I startled back, falling off my chair. Their face was pressed against the glass like a child making faces on a window. I scrambled the port. “Hey! Hey! Can you get help? Can you find someone with tools, and some men? Can you get me out of here?” I shouted. I wasn’t sure if they could hear me through the thick plating. The face only smiled back at me like an imbecile. “Do you understand me? Help me! Help me, please!”
The stranger pulled open the hatch like it was a car door. The hatched weighed 90 kilograms. “Oh, most certainly I can help you. Thank you for your politeness.” The person held a hand into the capsule, welcoming me out. Heavy fog flowed into the capsule. I stared. Their voice, face, and clothes showed no sign of masculinity or femininity. “Do you still want to get out?” they asked.
“Yes… yes, thank you.” I took their hand, and stepped out of Vostok 1, and through the fog. After a few steps it cleared, leaving a gentle mist. I was standing in grassland. Low hills and haze hiding anything in the distance. "Where am I?"
"You are here, with me," my rescuer said.
"Where is here?" I asked. Their face was a blank smile.
"Your house is right there," they said, pointing towards the capsule. "Do you not know where you are from?"
I was now absolutely certain the person, or extraterrestrial being that resembled a person, was of a lower intelligence. "I'm a traveler. That brought me here, and I'm not sure where on Earth here is."
"Earth." Their smile dropped from their face. "Oh my, that will not do."
I sputtered the beginning of questions, but they grabbed my arm and dragged me back to my ship. Before I was thrown in I pushed my heals into the ground, and braced myself against the hatch. "Why are you doing this? Why are you pushing me back?"
"You are in the universe right now. This is what life in the universe is!" They stretched their arms out. "It is beautiful, sensual, perfect. It is not for those that are anathema to such ideas. Those things are separated, and contained." They grabbed me again and threw me into the capsule.
"Oh I am sorry, dear. You've come to us from a terrible dimension, full of horrors. Some horrors of your creation, and still more unknown to you all. They told us you were experimenting on getting out, but we didn't really think you'd make it so soon. Oh well," their smile returned, "it looks like we might have to widen your confines… perhaps an ever expanding abyss? Wouldn't want your kind infesting, would we?" They closed the hatch, and waved through the viewport.
I feared I was going to die from thirst and rot imprisoned in the capsule, but eventually it began to move. The clouds drifted upwards through the viewport. I was falling. I strapped into the seat, and put my helmet back on. The plummet began pushing me up against my harness, digging into my ribcage; I was falling the wrong direction for reentry. I was going to die. Either I would burn up from atmospheric friction, or my neck would snap from the Gs being pulled without a headrest.
The harness got me first, I couldn't breathe anymore, and I passed out.
Major Rykov was at my bedside when I woke. "Don't try to get up, or speak. You've been badly injured." He handed me a pad and pen. "Before you ask; we don't know what malfunctioned. We lost tracking, and radio soon after launch. Your capsule was found 2 kilometers from the launch site, the parachute had not deployed. We do not know how you survived." he looked into my eyes. "Alexei, what happened up there?"
I wrote what I could remember. I wrote about the stranger, and what they said about Earth. Rykov read it, and turned away. "Alexei, you can't write such madness. The doctors will think you are brain damaged."
'What does the flight recorder show?' I wrote, and tapped the pad for him to read.
"It doesn't matter, the government took them away. You need to just be happy you're alive."
I wrote furiously, 'The malfunctions, the landing, no parachute - I'm not insane. It all happened.'
"Even if it did Alexei… you mustn't tell anyone ever. They'll confine you. They'll lobotomize you. You would live a life of horrors"
I dropped the paper. I understood.
|# ¿ Aug 12, 2019 02:35|