Your CS Pet Pairs? :3 (NEW THREAD!)

[aquamarine]

@Xrae: :'C

{{ You'll be in my heart }}
{{ No matter what they say }}
{{ You'll be here in my heart }}
{{ Always }}



Ariel.
She was my worst enemy, my best friend, the person I fought with more times than I can count and the one with whom I shared the closest of bonds. Our competition was the fiercest and sometimes, the silliest.

"I can climb higher than you!"
"No you can't, you poopie head!"
"Whatever, you baffoon!"

Ariel.
She was my secret-keeper, the person I confided in, the person who knew me sometimes better than I knew myself.

"I can't BELIEVE you got a belly-button piercing. They'll KILL you."
"No please, you can't tell! Omg, you can't really tell! Ariel!"
"Ohh, you dumb dumb. Obviously I won't tell."
"Thanks, sissy. Wait, I am not a dumb dumb! Take it back!"

Ariel.
She was my supporter, my cheerleader, my biggest fan. Soccer games, volleyball games, piano concerts...she was always there to yell my name and clap for me with that proud look on her face and a beaming smile.

"Ariel! Sissy, over here!"
"Oooooomygoodness, Maddy you're amazing!"
"Aww, thanks!"
"Yes...shame you didn't play much. Coach must not think as I do, eh?"
"What! Ariel! MOM!!! Did you hear that!"
"Oh lord, you're such a tattletale."
"!!!!!!!!!"

Ariel.
More then anything else, she was my sibling, my twin, my sister forever and always and nothing can or ever will change it.

"Night, Ariel."
"Night Mads. Love ya, Sissy."
"Duh. Always."

She's not here now. I mean, she's not here on Earth physically. Amazing as she was in my eyes, she was far from perfect and decided she couldn't take it anymore. I found her suicide note on my bed and her body hanging from a tree in the yard.

But she's always with me, in my mind, my heart, my soul and everything I do. People look at me and they see her. I'll be the first to admit it, it used to bother me.

Now when people look at me and say they see my sister, I feel nothing but proud.

-----------

Not my best, and I'm sorry all of my stories are so sad...-screws up face- sad stories seem to be all I'm good at :3

[Lennie]

|||
dmetri {f} -------------------------------------------------------- {m} zachary

Her simplistic ballet flats thudded quietly against the velvet carpeting, the ornate doors intricately designed with knobs of gold and jewels. Her dress, beautiful, a combination of orange that faded to a peach at the ends seemed to flow just a note behind her like a silk river. The black lining was sewn beautifully, creating a unique design, and her eyes seemed to highlight the appearnace only that much more as they twinkled even in the dull theatre lights.

She took her seat in the front row, holding the invitation to the opening night production in her hand, her eyes tracing every word within the simple note. By this point, she had memorized the letter, having read it so many times over the past week. The lights began to dim, as the curtain began to lift, the simplistic seeming red velvet rising slowly into bindings made of golden rope. The spotlight hit the stage as he walked onto the stage, the play taking off as the first word was spoken, the door closing in the far back.

She knew the play by heart, possibly down to every word though the version within the play seemed to shorten the story, at least a note. William Shakespeare, old fashioned English, she swore that she had been born in the wrong generation. The old fashioned lifestyle so seemed to suit her. What she wouldn't have given to travel in time, having attempted to act within Shakespeare's plays. Even if it meant acting to be a male. It would've been worth the risk.

Time wore on, and even through the intermission she sat, entranced, staring at the curtain lining, her eyes tracing the paths taken by each of the actors throughout the play. The play continued, and with the final line, the actors and actresses stepped upon the stage, each taking a chance to bow. As the others stood, beginning to leave, Dmetri sat on her own, staring blankly at the stage with tears in her golden eyes as the final words repeated in her mind. "And never was there a tale of more woe, than this of Juliet, and her Romeo."

Zachary stepped off stage, coming down and sitting beside Dmetri with a soft smile. "Didn't expect to see you here." With a faint smirk, she turned her gaze to him, her eyes seeming almost glazed over as she watched him for a moment. "It's the opening night. Of course I'd be here." He laughed lightly, shaking his head. "So, what did you think of my Romeo routine?" At this she rolled her eyes, returning her gaze to the stage. "Pitiful. I suppose."

Zachary stood harshly, glancing down at her with a new glare. "Pitiful? And what have you ever done to find yourself in a position in which you could say such a thing about my acting skills?" Dmetri shook her head, never once looking up at the so-called Romeo as she replied in a voice so faint, it seemed to not be near. "Have you ever taken the time to even truly read Shakespeare's works?" But Zachary didn't respond, shaking his head slightly. "I thought you said you'd changed Dmetri. I thought you said you weren't so critical of people." "You expected me to change? Whoever for Zach? For you? Oh yes, flatter yourself as much as you would like, but you aren't even close to being worth changing for, and I hope that any girl who foolishly gives her heart to you understands that. Because I have known you my whole life, and I don't even know who you are any more." With this, the girl stood, walking out of the theatre with tears in her eyes, a single tear running down her lightly colored cheek as she left the Romeo behind, leaving her heart as well.

And never was there a tale of more woe, than this of Juliet, and her Romeo....

[.a m a r y l l i s.]

@aqua: But, but, your stories are so good. :3
@Lennie: Beautiful. <3

Suniil [♂] & Faetim [♂]
Dance, little child, once trapped in your mind...

The boy smiled, shock obvious in his eyes as he was declared the winner. That had never happened before; he'd never been acknowledged, never been cared about before. It was so novel.

Heading through the door, grin still etched upon his face, the boy heard a hum from around the corner, a tune that seemed familiar, if only vaguely. He paused, turning, looking for the source of the sound.
'Nice to meet you, Suniil.' The voice came from the shadows, full of smug superiority. Stepping from behind a corner came another boy, in a long brown coat, eyes full of shadows and face full of smiles.
'Who are you? And how do you know my name?'
The strange boy laughed, taking a step closer.

'My name's Faetim. And I know your name because it's worth knowing.'

Sing, little bird, sing out loud and clear...

Suniil shook his head as he walked through the door of the orphanage, wondering who that strange boy was. Sighing, he trudged up the stairs to his room, exhausted beyond belief. Turning, he closed the door behind him, more than ready to go to sleep.
'I can't blame you for wanting to get away from all this.'
Suniil spun, nearly falling. 'What are you doing in my room?'

Faetim laughed, leaning against the open window. 'I believe the question is, what are you doing in this room?'
Suniil whined, incapable of making any other noise.
'Didn't you sing about wanting to get away? About getting free?'
Suiil paused, trying unsuccessfully to hide the sudden flare of interest and hope in his eyes.
Faetim smirked, knowing he had won this one.

'How would you like to come with me to a little place called Wonderland?'

...sing with your heart, your freedom is near.

[aquamarine]

@e r h y n: omg, your story fits those too much much better then mine, teehee :3 I quite liked yours, by the way. It made me laugh.

[micah]

@Freakish: /late/ But thank you darling~ <3

Matilda [f] --- Luke [m]

[and h e n c e he found out that the wings were a b l e s s i n g ]

"Tell me the secrets you so willingly bestow, Matilda, tell me..." He hushed, the cover of nightfall drenching them. A crow sang a song of sorrow, an owl chiming in for the occasional hoo. While Matilda pondered why a crow was even out, Luke was dreaming of them running off together, under the blood-red sun.

"If I willingly bestow my secrets, why would I share them?" She offered a sly wink.

A content sigh rolled off of his mouth. "Because things are different between you and me, Matilda."

Matilda challenged him again. "And how would that be so, Luke?"

"And now you make this a competition; but what you don't know is that there are a lot of tricks hidden up my sleeve, darling."

"If it's a game you want, it's a game you'll get." Wings screeched from her back, forcing her to arch forwards. A grin sliced her face, and his, too. "Catch me... If you can, Luke."
___
Now his clothes were ragged and torn, eyes feeling similar. A hand brushed hair away from his face; the other pushed stray bushes out of his path. "Certainly, she couldn't have gone this far..." Luke's eyes continued to flutter around the forest, looking for any sign of the mysterious fairy. Sparkles, notes, signs... Anything.

Poor Luke.
He flew into the trap.

[and h e n c e he found out that the wings were a l i e ]

[faraday]

blackbeard............the queen anne's revenge

---

Cheers echoed across the ship's rigging, sailors throwing their hats up in joy, the light of the torches throwing shadows across their faces. A door opened, the creaking silencing the pirates. A tall man with a worn and weathered face, and a dark grey beard with singed ends stepped slowly out, his cold green eyes surveying the sailors. He took a slow drink from a bottle encrusted with salt and dust, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, a melancholy smile twisting across his face. He took a few steps closer to the rail so they could see him clearly. An eerie silence spread across the ship, and the only sounds were the rigging creaking, and the ocean sloshing against the sides of the ship. The man with green eyes opened his mouth, and spoke. "Gentlemen." He shook his head scoldingly, and took another drink from the bottle, this time throwing it to the ground, the glass scattering across the floorboards of the ship. He put his hands on the guardrail, which was decorated with bones and skulls, some of which still had bits of rotting flesh. "I be placed in a bewilderment-" He raised one hand to point to his cabin. "There I were, at rest... and upon a sudden, I hear an ungodly rowl on deck." He placed his other hand on te hilt of a large sword, with faded drops of blood decorating the handle. The rigging began to stir behind the sailors, and they sat there, unknowing- like cows waiting to be milked. "...sailors abandoned their posts, without orders from me." His fingers creeped up and down the hilt of the sword, and the rigging began to untangle itself, snaking it's was towards the sailors, ever. So. Slowly.

"Men before the mast, taking the ship for themselves. And what would that be called, first mate?" A woman with long dark hair gripped the side of the ship, watching the rigging. "Mutiny, captain." The woman said softly, her voice telling of a tinge of fear. The man put his hand to his ear. "Again?" The woman gripped the side hairder. "Mutiny!" The man lowered his hand, nodding slowlu. "Ah, yes. Mutiny." He let his fingers slide across the hilt of his sword, and the the ship groaned with anticipation as the ropes made their way across the deck. The man became impatient, and grabbed the handle of the sword, his eyebrows knitting together. "And what fate befalls mutineers, now we all know the answer to that..." There was a split second of silence, before he drew the sword into the air, and the ship attacked. "Mutineers Hang!" The ship lurched, and the sails fells. Men screamed in fear, doing their best to outrun the ropes, but they could not outrun their own ship. It was chaos- running, screaming, crying, until all were hanging in the rigging but the captain and first mate. The captain smiled, and rested the sword on his shoulder, as if he enjoyed it.

And you know what?

He did.

[aquamarine]

@rainy.day: umm, I'm really not trying to be mean here. Honestly. But I don't think you should keep re-posting the same story without saying anything else. You just posted it on the last page. As Selcouth said awhile back, you don't always need comments on your stories, you should just write them anyways and be happy with what you've written.

Sorry if I'm out of line..

@Giggle: Charming. Ew, I sound so cheesy, but I'm running out of adjectives to describe your work! <3

[faraday]

@rainy.day: umm, I'm really not trying to be mean here. Honestly. But I don't think you should keep re-posting the same story without saying anything else. You just posted it on the last page. As Selcouth said awhile back, you don't always need comments on your stories, you should just write them anyways and be happy with what you've written.

Sorry if I'm out of line..

@Giggle: Charming. Ew, I sound so cheesy, but I'm running out of adjectives to describe your work! <3

No worries, I just took a few hours trying to figure out how to write it, and I was wanting some critique, and you're right, I didn't say anything about wanting critique, so I guess it's my fault for that. ^^

Don't worry, you sound nothing like a mean person. You want mean? Go take a look at my 5th grade teacher I had a couple -lmao like 4- years back. She threatened to wring my neck until it bled, and make my life miserable. owo

[Miss Captain Sexy]

xx
Dad [m] xx Baby [f]

tumbling down down do w n~____

My life about ended the day we got the stair lift. It was a electronic chair with a ramp drilled into the staircase that slowly climbed up up up until an irratating beep sounded. Afterwards, you were meant to hop off and waddle away, continuing along with your business. It was a slow device that came with a weak seatbelt, except my dad had removed that 'petty' thing.

We were capable of purchasing one for free due to my father being a disabled veteran. He was disagnosed with a disease named Mulitple Sclerosis, also known as MS, on my birthday. So, dearest Daddy was gone to the doctor's on my birthday as a little girl. But I can't remember. In fact, I can't remember a lot of things. I can't remember Dad with out his big metal sticks that I would pretend were my trusty steads, Crutch One and Crutch Two. I can't remember those days when he'd be at the fire station, working to attempt to save citizens' lives. I can't remember the taste of those Tim Horton's doughnuts he'd bring home when he came back for those straight-forward work weeks when he wouldn't even see our house; he'd be looking up at the bunk above him in his fire station cabin.

But I do remember the last time he held me. We were skipping along on a walk with me on his shoulders. Dad was wearing a tank, black and white stripes, and me...probably something pink knowing Mom. Mother didn't trust Dad with me perched upon him, but there I sat for what I didn't know as the last time I could see things from such a tall perspective. The time before that when he had held me, we were at the Outer Banks playing in the Atlanic waves. Swinging swinging, in and out in and out~ Then bam. We were coiled up in the drenched sand. Cold and wet.

And I do remember that day. That day when we got that stair lift. Our entire family was smiling and excited, glad to have this machine in our home. It would help my dad since he could hardly walk, plus he had been continuously been falling down those pesky stairs only to be caught by Mom, during his latest MS episode. He was riding on it, testing the thing out. Seemed safe. Seemed great, but of course the stubborn man had to rip off the seatbeat.

"I'm a rebel!"

"Oh, yeah Dad, okay," I nodded with a sarcastic grin.

Later on that night, I had been sitting in my room, readying myself for bed, stroking my cat. Suddenly, a giant noise ebbed from downstairs. THUD-DUD-DUM-DODUM-DUM-UMHM!! I lunged off my bed, hyper-extending my thumb while I was at it, and darted down the stairs.

The sight was the scariest thing I had ever seen. My father's head, broken into pieces. A thick, brick red liquid oozed accross the hardwood floor. I didn't scream. I couldn't scream. I was shattered. I was petrified. My life corrupted by this stupid stair lift. Dad laid there, unmoving, his neck and head in various pieces.

It was terrible. We were both broken. I thought I could be melting when I knew my dad was right in front of me. It was horrible. It was devastating. It was the end.

----

Based on something that happened to my family a few weeks ago. Everything is correct except the chair lift dates, and fortunately, nobody really /died/. I wrote this because all that was on my head since then and now is 'what could've happened?". I can't tell you how scared enough I was with just the sound of Dad tumbling down the stairs.....I hope my story means nothing to the future~

O.O so sad! and so gory....

[flashlight reveries~]

blackbeard............the queen anne's revenge

---

Cheers echoed across the ship's rigging, sailors throwing their hats up in joy, the light of the torches throwing shadows across their faces. A door opened, the creaking silencing the pirates. A tall man with a worn and weathered face, and a dark grey beard with singed ends stepped slowly out, his cold green eyes surveying the sailors. He took a slow drink from a bottle encrusted with salt and dust, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, a melancholy smile twisting across his face. He took a few steps closer to the rail so they could see him clearly. An eerie silence spread across the ship, and the only sounds were the rigging creaking, and the ocean sloshing against the sides of the ship. The man with green eyes opened his mouth, and spoke. "Gentlemen." He shook his head scoldingly, and took another drink from the bottle, this time throwing it to the ground, the glass scattering across the floorboards of the ship. He put his hands on the guardrail, which was decorated with bones and skulls, some of which still had bits of rotting flesh. "I be placed in a bewilderment-" He raised one hand to point to his cabin. "There I were, at rest... and upon a sudden, I hear an ungodly rowl on deck." He placed his other hand on te hilt of a large sword, with faded drops of blood decorating the handle. The rigging began to stir behind the sailors, and they sat there, unknowing- like cows waiting to be milked. "...sailors abandoned their posts, without orders from me." His fingers creeped up and down the hilt of the sword, and the rigging began to untangle itself, snaking it's was towards the sailors, ever. So. Slowly.

"Men before the mast, taking the ship for themselves. And what would that be called, first mate?" A woman with long dark hair gripped the side of the ship, watching the rigging. "Mutiny, captain." The woman said softly, her voice telling of a tinge of fear. The man put his hand to his ear. "Again?" The woman gripped the side hairder. "Mutiny!" The man lowered his hand, nodding slowlu. "Ah, yes. Mutiny." He let his fingers slide across the hilt of his sword, and the the ship groaned with anticipation as the ropes made their way across the deck. The man became impatient, and grabbed the handle of the sword, his eyebrows knitting together. "And what fate befalls mutineers, now we all know the answer to that..." There was a split second of silence, before he drew the sword into the air, and the ship attacked. "Mutineers Hang!" The ship lurched, and the sails fells. Men screamed in fear, doing their best to outrun the ropes, but they could not outrun their own ship. It was chaos- running, screaming, crying, until all were hanging in the rigging but the captain and first mate. The captain smiled, and rested the sword on his shoulder, as if he enjoyed it.

And you know what?

He did.

I've been meaning to comment on this since you first posted it.
I love this- a very creative pair and interesting story.