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HBB Severus : Part 3
"Professor! Wake up professor, or you'll be late for your classes!"
Severus gave a stir, opening a bleary set of eyes toward the house elf that was prodding his shoulder profusely. Shrugging the miniature elf off, Snape got to his feet. Brain muscles pounded against Severus' skull, reminding the potions master that drinking a quarter-bottle of elf made wine was not without its morning consequences. "I'm awake already, get back to work." Getting onto his two feet, Snape gave a stretch of the arms as the tiny elf bowed and disappeared. Glancing at the ivory grandfather clock behind the desk, the professor let out a sigh; it seemed that there was no time for breakfast. Pulling out his wand, Severus moved behind the desk as the present still sitting on the desktop caught in his gaze. The professor opened a lower desk drawer, the wand tapping the paper crumpled underneath the box so that it disappeared with a quiet 'pop'. Doing the exact same to the chair in front of the now dead fire, Seve
My song was never sung by the bards of ancient old,
It has never earned silver, it has never earned gold.
My song was never sung to light up royal halls,
It has never been played to accompany fancy balls.
My song was never sung in times of horrid war,
It has never been played for those dead beneath the floor.
My song was never sung to bring people joy,
It has never announced the birthing of a girl or of a boy.
My song was never sung by those who wish for hope,
It has never been used to help souls to cope.
My song was never sung for those with piece of mind,
It has never warmed the hearts of those that are blind.
My song was never sung for women dressed in silken moonbeams,
It has never been meant for ones who want non-morbid bed dreams.
My song was never sung to help people along,
It has never brought me joy…but it is my song.
Independant Novel Study '06
They were meant to keep people out, or that's what I was told,
To protect the earthly treasures that were our copper, silver, and gold.
I now know the truth of the structure made of stone,
Though I wish I could forget, since it chills me to the bone.
There is a wall in front of me, but it is not this one,
The one I face is stronger, from which I cannot run.
It is one inside my mind, though in all else's too,
The wall that tells us what we are, and what we cannot do.
To be socially acceptable it allows us all to be,
But for some it is a curse; some who are a lot like me.
I see that which cannot be seen,
What will happen, or already has been.
I know that which cannot be known,
And for this I am trapped in a garden of stone.
My twin shares this power with me,
But we are the only ones who can See.
It's a blessing for him, yet my personal curse,
Not to be written in warm-hearted verse.
With all those around me in this palace of stone,
I am still, utterly, all a
No, I'm Not an Emo Kid Chap. 1
Finding himself bored- again- Death moved away from the shops. A distant bell rang, announcing the beginning of lessons at the nearby school. A large building, it hosted classes from the kindergarten level through to grade twelve. And, even though he didn't have to, Death was enrolled there. Slowly changing his direction to move towards the school, he began to sigh. Life- if it could be called that- was just as boring, if not more, than a normal human life. At least they could look forward to Death coming for them; Death never came for Death, that was for certain.
Moving into the school, he broke into a run, at least attempting to make it look like he had tried to make it on time. Entering the art studio, he took his seat in his usual table in the corner. Though no one knew his true identity, word had gotten around about his earthly job, and people then decided to give him a wide berth. As cliché as it might be, Death was employed at the local cemetery, working the gravey
Her father bent down in front of her, matching her eyes of ice with his matching pair. "Net, none of that. You must be strong, Devochka moya, even though I can't be with you."
She stomped her one foot angrily on the ground, her hands balling into fists as she stood in front of him. Her actions caused the simple piece of white ribbon holding her hair back to fall to the ground, letting tendrils of midnight sway past her shoulders. "Net! I don't want to leave you, otets! Ya ne panimayu vas!" In that final cry she leaned forwards, falling into his open arms.
Carefully placing his hands on her shoulders, he held her close, hushing the tears now leaking from her eyes. "Vsyo idyot kak nado. Ti ne odna…Pomni, ya vsеgda ryadom."
After a moment she pulled back, forcing her tears to stop as she wiped them from her eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. She nodded, knowing that he spoke the truth. Even with all of her sadness, she managed to smile…just for him. "Da, Ya vsyo sdel-"
Tainted Tears : Part One
"Milady, is it at all very wise to be here? You know I am one for peace, but I know I'm most likely one of the few meeting here."
"Truly Sattu, how can you be so pessimistic at a time like this?"
The two conversing sat in a large, ovular room, around a table of the matching shape. They, like many of those there, were planning to put a stop to the current war. What war, you may ask? Why, the War of The Races, of course. Gathered around the plank of wood were a large collection of the different races: humans, kitsune, nagas, the hawk people, vampires, lycanthropes, centaurs, and our previously talking elves.
Sattu, fully named Sattu Cherrywood, was merely an advisor, not a ruler like the rest around the table. He, unlike them, refused to sit, and now remained behind the other elf's chair. A custom brown robe covered most of his body, including half of his face. Due to his long brown hair, the only thing that could be seen of the man were his piercing ice blue eyes, and emotionless
Just the word brings emotions of
Conflicting notions as happiness and sadness,
Undying devotion, or utter madness.
But what does it mean to me, I wonder,
Which of these feelings does my heart fall under?
I ask you my love, yet you do not know,
For your own feelings are not yours to bestow
Upon me, and so with my utter resentment,
I must leave from your true, loving contentment.
I must find what love really means to me,
Is it the thundering storm, or the calm clear sea?
Is it the love of a mother, so full and hearty,
Or that which the poets speak of, so arty?
Is it found with the eyes, or that of the ears,
Or spurned by late and desperate fears?
I have seen them all, and I come to you now,
To place a soft kiss on your sweet, soft brow,
The answer, I see, has been always in my mind:
Love, in truth, is beautifully blind.
For not the first time in many nights, Severus Snape awoke in his bed in his home on Spinner's End. The Dark Mark hissed on his arm, causing his mouth to let out the same sound as his hand clamped down on the snake-and-skull. Over the summer the Dark Lord was constantly calling on him, since his time had greatly opened itself after killing Albus. At least, that's what everyone – well, almost everyone- believed to have happened. But soon the pain on his arm ebbed away, and his mind turned to other things. Well, one thing in particular. The one thing it always settled on, and one of the reasons why he would be leaving the house that very day.
~ * ~
Hermione still couldn't grasp why she was going back to Hogwarts. Now that she was old enough to do magic outside of school, she had joined the Order, just as both Ron, Harry, and many of the Gryffindor students had. As she sat on top of her suitcase at the Weasley's home, she sighed. Why had Snape killed Dumbledore? He didn't seem the type, e
A Salty Story Chapter One
"Hey ho and up she rises, Hey ho and up she rises, Hey ho and up she rises earlie in the mornin'!"
The song filled the grimy tavern even before the singer walked through the door. It turned out that a male was the one in such a good mood. His figure was of medium build, and showed strong muscles in residence. His arms were hidden under a large-and what appeared to be heavy- jacket, which was made of a black material and metal clasps. The cuffs at the edges of the sleeves were large, appearing to be folded. The beads in his raven hair clicked together as he came to a stop, peering around the tavern.
As he walked to the bar, his jacket parted slightly to show black pants, as well as heavy boots that clanked across the grit and spittle covered floor. Taking a stool beside a loud and obviously drunk man at the bar, he turned to face him as the tavern keeper placing a pint of ale in front of him. "Well, 'ello mate! You'd be the one they call Cogs, eh?" The drunk let out a grunt, to w
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More