#hellish stories

[writingsonhellswalls]

I work overnight shift this week

If you got Jeith/Jaith prompts send them my way!

They will be mini fics

[writingsonhellswalls]

winter whispers.

This is a angsty mini-fic about my character Sarafina and @ladykakata​ ‘s character Joa! This is set some time in the future of the story we are writing. Joa is off fighting a war, Sarafina is at their home. Enjoy! Tell me what you think! This was written in a little over an hour on a school night because I was grumpy about homework. Fic below the cut! 

I did not edit this beyond a brief run through with spell check. Its 11:30 and I need the sleep. 

OH! Question for Lady Kakata: Can you guess which other character I mentioned? ^-^ 

Nestled in her bed of warm furs and blankets, was the red haired beauty and lady of the castle.  It was to be expected the woman was sleeping, but in fact she was wide awake. A winter storm had  raged against the stone building and kept her awake most of the night. It didn't help her situation that she was alone after having just recently gotten used to sleeping beside someone. Sarafina wanted to nothing more then to roll onto her side and place her cheek to her husband's chest but it was impossible. Instead of warming her bed and perhaps the rest of her, he was off fighting in a war. It almost caused her physically ache for him, but those were sad thoughts she did her best to keep away.

A sound of annoyance escaped her as she rose form her bed, tossing the covers off only to regret her choice instantly. She hadn't yet full accepted that despite her room being the best in the castle, it wasn't always as warm as her bed. Her annoyance grew further as she attempted to pull on every layer of clothing she had. Heavy furred boots were the last addition to her outfit. She wore a simple dress, a bodice made loose simply because she put it on herself. The dress itself was made in the fancy of most northern clothing, heavy and warm. Lastly a pretty emerald colored cloak, lined with soft brown fur from summer rabbits, the only gift she didn't complain about, it was both pretty and functional.

She paused only for a moment to fix the braid she slept in, tucking away all stray hairs before departing. Hykross castle was alive with the bustle of life. Servants and guards travelled  about, tending to the castle after the storm. She hoped no one would notice her presence and she could slip by unnoticed, but being the Lady of the Castle prevented that.

"Your grace," A young woman said in passing, curtsying slightly. Sarafina offered her a small smile and bow of her head. She had come along ways since meeting and falling in love with her husband, the fact she was called 'your grace' was still new to her. Part of her wanted to ask them not to bother with it, but it was an old tradition that would take far longer to break then she'd be alive. Having exchanged formalities, Sarafina found her way down from her room and outside without too much trouble. She had stopped to ask the head servant about their stores, if the storm got worse. They exchanged brief words about what to be expected, Sarafina asked him to send out a few guards to check on the village just a short ten-minute ride from the castle. Despite having never governed over anything beyond her sheep, Sarafina had taken to the task of helping the villagers with great care.

Upon leaving the castle doors she quickly made her way to the stables. The apprentice stable hand greeted her with a small smile, she asked him to saddle up her mare so she could go for a short ride. The man showed some concern but had grown used to her request. It was almost twice daily that Sarafina took her ride and he learned long ago not to bother asking where she went. The young woman always said she went to the ridge, knowing full well that the castle was hidden within a mountain range. There were a variety of ridges that could be ridden to in less than an hour.

It took him only half of an hour to saddle her large, mountain bred mare. Sarafina didn't bother to wait inside the castle, but stayed near the stables until she brought out. Sarafina didn't bother to wait for help on climbing onto her horse, instead she pulled herself up and set off. A single guard followed right after her for her protection and not because she wanted him to.

Pulling the hood of her cloak up, Sarafina attempted to shield her face from the bite of the cold air, but little could be done. The wind was unforgiving, turning her cheeks red and biting harshly. She didn't seem to mind.

The path to the 'her ridge' was well mapped out in her head and the ground itself. No amount of snow could fully hide the beaten path, her mare even seemed to know the way well. The guard behind her kept a safe distance, preferring not to upset Sarafina if he rode too close. It wasn't that she disliked his company, it was that the ridge had become her place. A spot within her husband's land that she claimed for herself. Somewhere she could go when she wanted to get away for a little while.

Arrival at the ridge had her dismounting quickly. There was a lone tree that grew without any help beyond it's own roots. Symbolic in a way, Sarafina had found the tree suitable to climb and so she did. Hand over hand and slowly at first, Sarafina climbed up just until she was able to nestle herself and have a vintage point to the valley below. Her cloak remained some shelter from the wind, the tree providing the rest. It was purely for her own selfish reasons why she wanted visited the ridge everyday. She wanted nothing more than to be the first person to see her husband return home, this ridge provided that view.

Having grown used to the way the mountains seemed to carry their own time, Sarafina knew she could stay in her spot until the eastern light touched a particular set of trees. Her eyes went back and forth from those trees to the valley out in front of her as her mind wandered.

It normally went first to the war itself. Why it was being fought and how her husband had decided to risk his life and take what was rightfully the North's. Usually at first thought of her husband, Sarafina's senses would feel with the memory of him. His fierce icy gaze, sent those faint of heart running away. His eyes however, often warmed her, she assumed it was because he loved her. Continuing to picture his image in her head, next were his lips.  Her own lips ached with the loss of his, she wondered how much longer she would have to go without the taste of him. Even her ears seemed to miss the sound of his voice, the way he whispered her name when it was just the two of them. A jolt of something undefinable ran through her at the mere  thought of his whispers. Clearing her head of such thoughts, she felt the slightest fading blush fall away from her cheeks. The cold air helped with it.

Content with watching the valley below, Sarafina did her best to push away all the sad thoughts, but a few crept their dark claws into mind. Fear prickled against her skin as she feared that her loving husband would never return. She didn't consider herself a religious woman, but having found love in a man who didn't want to break her spirit had given her some faith. With that new faith she prayed to who ever listened of his safe return. She wouldn't fall to her knees in prayer, but did so in the safety of her tree. The first weeks away from him she prayed of his quick return. As the weeks turned into months, her prayers also changed. Instead of being quick returned, she prayed for him to be safe and unharmed. When news travelled back, it spread like wildfire of the harshness of the war. Men dying in the fields, some suffering in medical tents. Her prayers changed for him to come home alive. She knew in her heart that it didn't matter if he came home scarred or beaten, she simply wanted him alive. Her love for him would overcome anything physical.

The dark thoughts continued to grow until felt the first of many tears begin to fall. Sarafina had learned to cry silently as to not alert the guard that often followed her out to the ridge. Instead she let them slip down her cheeks and fall from her chin. While she wanted to maintain the image of being a strong woman, it was almost impossible to hold back the tears. Her beloved husband could be dead and half buried in some forsaken field and she wouldnt know for weeks, she hated how slow news travelled. Everyday she fought the urge to take off and go find him. At least if she was near the battles she'd be able to go to him, see that he was okay. However, deep down she knew if she has somehow found her way to him she'd likely protest and try to hold him back from joining the fight. Adding to that would be the fear of watching him die. Sarafina knew she'd just get in the way of the healers who would do their best to save him. Despite how much she missed him, Sarafina knew her place was in Hykross.

When she married him she knew that it wasn't just to him, but to his title as well. She was now the Duchess of Hykross, a woman who would need to lead in her husband's absence. At first she was terrified of such a task, turning to the few advisors that stayed behind for all the guidance they could provided. There were plenty of times in the early weeks of him being gone that she felt unsuitable for the job. While she never questioned their relationship or the love between them, she did question why he would let her lead. His advisors were far better suited for the job, however like before they were old traditions not easily broken.

With time the tears dried enough for her to wipe them away. The ache in her chest had lessened only a little but it was still a relief. Carefully finding her way down the tree, she adjusted her cloak before remounting her mare. The horse had dozed off but quickly woke at the sound of her rider.

Turning her mare with the reins, Sarafina rode past the guard who bowed slightly as she rode past him.

"I think I'll go to the village later today, I want to check on the food stores there, make sure they have a enough in case we have a bigger storm," Sarafina told him.

"That sounds like a good idea, your grace, I'll ask a few more guards to join us. We can set out after breakfast," The man spoke as Sarafina nodded in approval to suggestion before urging her mare into a light trot. She gave one parting glance to the tree as the wind seemed to pick up again. Taking this as a sign, Sarafina whispered a soft prayer asking the wind to send a message to whatever gods listened to bring her husband home alive. She would be okay with a little more waiting.

[writingsonhellswalls]

I wish I knew an artist that would be willing to work on a comic with me ..because this idea I have for a story needs some awesome art to go with it and would be amazing as a comic :/

[writingsonhellswalls]

It had been one year, Piper felt the pain of sadness in her chest as Mrs. Warren avoid the holiday music and kept the decorations away. Piper had taken up helping her out, the loss of Henry had hit them both but Mrs. Warren rarely did anything outside of eating what ever Piper put in front of her.

The snowfall had kept them both warm in the house. Henry’s uncle had been busy cutting firewood as Piper worked on supper but her eyes were constantly searching the pathway to the Warren house hold always praying.

“Mrs. Warren would you like something to drink?” Piper called from within the small kitchen, there was no reply but she still made the cup of warm tea. Setting up the tray Piper brushed her hands across the worn out apron and ventured into the living room. Mrs. Warren remained in her rocking chair, picture in hand and staring at the picture and flag that was displayed above the fireplace.

“I miss him too,” Piper whispered softly as she placed the tray on the table in front of her. Mrs. Warren didn’t move at first but her eyes drifted to meet the emerald eyes of Piper. Words couldn’t sustain her grief but Piper didn’t need to be reminded.

“Its going to be a cold night ladies,” Arthur said to them as he entered the house, a stack of firewood in his arms. Piper nodded in thanks before returning to the kitchen. Her heart ached and forced her to clutch the counter to hold back the tears, the pain of her nails digging into the tile made it bearable .

“Stay strong for him,” She whispered to herself, taking in a few deep breaths.

—-

The weeks after his ‘death’ passed slowly. Having been tossed across enemies lines Henry was lucky to still be alive. His broke and battered body had healed and finally he was strong again. He didn’t understand the nurses that talked to him, his German was lacking and memories were fuzzy, the only thing he knew for sure was that he loved a girl very much. The letters that were once in his pocket were torn and left very little behind, he felt angry when ever he saw them.

Even with his broken German the nurses explained that he would walk with a limp for sometime, there were shards left in his right leg. They also went on to explain that he was technically a prisoner and not allowed to go free. The year past slowly, he drafted letters he’d never be allowed to sent. Those were dark days.

Time past and wounded fully healed and by the time the war ended for real. Henry was nearly a hundred percent, minus the limp of course. He was rescued, comrades were quick to hung him. His commanding officers were forced to explain the details of the letter they sent his family, angry he shouted at them before putting in his paper. He was done. They gave him what letter belongings he had left, what little survived the attack.

—-

Piper rarely slept, she had taken to living in Henry’s old room. She still had her apartment, kept up the payments but it was scary to be alone there with her grief. Henry’s room provided her a safety if she closed her eyes she could stll hear his laughter as he talked about it the day he gave her the 'grand tour’. As far as 'living’ the room hadn’t been changed much. His clothes still filled the dresser and the same bedding clung to the bed. She slept mostly on top of the bed with an extra blanket draped over her. She’d count the stars out the window on clear nights.

This night was no different. She laid on the bed with hot tears on her cheek, remembering that letter how cold the ground felt when she fell. There was a loud knock at the door that quickly startled her upright.

Arthur, Henry’s uncle, had been staying over more often. He knew that his sister needed his support now that Henry was gone. Piper heard his footsteps from down the hall but still got up and wrapped the blanket around her to follow the noise.

“Who the hell are you!” Came Arthur’s angry shouts as he stood at the front door.

“Uncle Art its me,” The figure answered, everything in Piper stopped.

That had to be him! His voice was the same, the sight of his frame was just like him. There was no mistaking that the figure in the door frame was her Henry! Pinching her arm enough for her to scream out she dropped the blanket and ventured into the line of sight.

“Pipes,” Came his voice, forcing more tears to fill her eyes as without warning she pushed past Arthur and crashed into the arms of the man.

Mrs. Warren had woken with the noises and joined the trio in the living room. A sharp cry of joy left her as she too pushed past a dumbfounded Arthur to join Piper in holding onto the man.

“My boy, my darling little boy,” She cried into his ear, holding him tighter than she ever thought possible. It was a miracle to have him with her again.

“I told you I’d come home,” He told him both. His own tear wetting his cheek as he held them both tight to him. In the commotion Arthur remained back but was quickly ushered into the family hug, they remained like that until the cold of the night air forced them back inside.

Henry sat first on the couch, Piper had allowed Mrs. Warren to sit beside him as she knelt with her hands in his lap holding his hands. Arthur took up the spot beside him, a warm arm around his shoulder.

At first they just stayed here, no one wanting to talk in fear that it was just a cruel dream. It was Arthur who spoke first about the cold and ventured back outside to gain more wood. A now revived Mrs. Warren had gotten up to make him something to eat. In the shock of it all Piper hadn’t said much else.

“I’ve missed you very much,” Henry whispered to her, bringing her lips to his in the most awaited kiss. He tasted of longing and happiness while she tasted of sadness and grief.

“I was so heart broken,” Her voice was softer and made Henry strain to understand her.

“I’m sorry,”

“I know, just don’t leave ever again,”

“I won’t,”

“I couldn’t stand to lose you again,”

“Pipes you are stuck with me for a long time,” He replied just as his mother returned with a kettle of hot water and four cups of tea.

“Would it be too soon to ask where all the decorations are?” Henry asked as he slowly sipped his tea.

“You can go get the tree tomorrow,” His mother said with a smile. It was going to be a Christmas.

[writingsonhellswalls]

A good friend and I have started shipping our betta fishes together. They are both merman but Davy Jones was a pirate before he fell in love with the King of the merpeople Atticus. After declaring his love Davy asked if he could become a merman to be with Atticus and he agreed! The two have never been happier. New tag Davicus Because we are dorks. There might be some art coming too!

[writingsonhellswalls]

I may or may not have thought up a destiel fan fic while at work today.. Plus another idea for an oc one shot too...... Oops hope my production didn't go down

[writingsonhellswalls]

Legends of Rixcah: Evin’s Blade

22 without a job aside from hunting down demons and protecting her girlfriend, Evin is ‘average’. If you ignore the fact she can cross into the magical realm known as Rixcah and has a duty to protect the Human Realm from creatures that wish to destroy it. Evin is average in the sense she is almost always late to dates with Alice, forgets to call her parents and is a little too eager to start a fight. She is saving the world one battle at a time. Thank the Gods she is our protector. 

Original story. Interested in reading? Contact me via email ([email protected]) and a link will be provided to read this free of charge! 

[writingsonhellswalls]

The Fugitive

With her heart pounding in her chest Piper headed straight for the dock. Her hair was fallen out of her hood and flowed in the wind provided by her pace. Behind her a troop of patrol officers raced after her, headed by the dirty blond officer known as Henry. His stride was longer and provided him an advantage. Piper knew that if she didn't get to the water and soon she'd be out of luck. Somewhere within her shaky legs she found a burst of speed and raced toward the end of the dock and with a strong leap was able to crash into the water, an emerald glow enclosing the area near her. Henry, barely able to stopped himself from falling over board caught sight of an emerald fish tail disappear underwater, the clothing of the fugitive lay forgotten on the surface of the water. 

Henry remained on the dock for hours, his men searched the entire area and found no sign. He dismissed his men with a nod but stayed behind. The dock was a peaceful kind of silent once the evening hours drifted into night. He had discarded his officer coat on a nearby post, stripped bare of his shirt and pants. Checking twice he plunged downward into the water below, in the shadows was the enchanting  form of Piper. Her hair drifted in the water, her eyes glowed with an emerald charm, her former shaky human legs now in their true form, a mesmerizing tail. Piper pulled Henry toward her with a smile, pressing her lips gently to his, the shock the course in his lips granted him breath in the water. 

“Why are you still here?” He questioned her, surprised in his ability to speak but not at the sight of her.  

“I couldn’t leave without seeing if you knew.” She replied, easily swimming around him. 

“I know you are a strange water creature capable of taking human form.” He replied, searching her gaze for an admission of guilt. 

“That is true, but most humans called us mermaid or sirens. Enchantresses of the sea” She added, the glow of her human eyes playful. 

“Why did you run?” He asked, threading the water to remain on the same level. 

“So you would follow me.” She replied, encroaching on his personal space. 

“So I would follow you?” He questioned, troubled by her remark. 

“Of course, you are my Prince Eric.” She replied with a playful smile, pressing her lips against him once more. 

------ 

empirefortwo

I know I took forever and a day to post something but I wanted to save the other one something else.