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The Greater Part of Valor [chapter 1]AN:: Don’t own Harry Potter, Iron Man, or Avengers; just get that clear.
“Aunt Harri! There’s someone for you at the door!” Teddy yelled from the hallway.
Harri’s head shot up from the potion she had been working on as a porcupine quill fell in, causing it to explode in her face. The house shook as a door was thrown open and a disheveled Harri came stumbling through, “Teddy! What have I told you about yelling in the house?”
“Not to…” Teddy said with a wide smile before running past Harri into the kitchen. Harri smiled and shook her head before heading to the front door and opening it to reveal Blackfang, the goblin in charge of all her accounts.
“Ah, Blackfang, may you vaults be ever flowing.” Harri said with the customary greeting.
Blackfang nodded, “And yours as well. May I come in?”
Harri nodded and stepped out of the way, letting him in before leadi
The Greater Part of Valor [Prologue]Pairing: Fem! Harry Potter/Tony Stark [aka] Iron Man
Summary: After the war with Voldemort, Harribelle spent her time holed up in Grimmauld Place, studying various bits and pieces that interested her around the world. She became proficient in many languages along with other various things. But after taking on potions and charms, learning the basics and adding them up, she slowly became a master. After ten years though, life has gotten away from her and suddenly a goblin shows up and informs her of something she never thought possible. Packing her things and sending an owl to the Weasley’s, she heads out to New York City, the city of new beginnings.
AN:: Just so you all know, 1, I don’t own Harry Potter or Iron Man nor Avengers. 2, this is my NANOWRIMO thing so don’t get mad that I’m not going on with my other stories. I’ve been lazy writing these first few days and I plan on picking up later on!
Voldemort cackled as he led the small
I remember (9/11)I remember sitting in my class,
I was in kindergarten you see,
And a teacher came running in
And whispered to the sub.
The panic I saw in her eyes
Caused me to want to run.
It was terrible when she turned on the TV.
We sat there, stunned,
As the smoke and ash billowed
As people were seen jumping.
My classmates broke into tears
But I was too shocked to do anything.
You see, my mother was watching it too
And she held me when I got home.
I still hadn't cried though.
I was too young to know what had happened.
And years later, I finally understood
What had happened.
I found a song that caused goosebumps
That caused me to cry,
It caused me to think back on that day
And realize how emotionless I had been.
No one ever really explained things to me
In a way where I would understand
I knew what had happened
But the pain they felt hadn't affected me.
And when I first heard that song...
I finally understood,
I understood their pain,
And I felt depressed.
A few years later,
lost my voice.I wrote "I love you"
in the sand at the beach.
The tide swallowed the words
and drowned them
before I could speak.
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
Loving A Guy Who Cannot Love Himself.Firstly, tell him that he doesn't necessarily need to be the “strongest” man in the world,
that if he cries, you won't look down on him for it,
that you won't call him weak.
Tell him that he doesn't have to like sports, or fishing, or football, or any of the “mainstream” things that boys are “supposed” to like.
Let him know that liking art, or dancing, or singing or acting doesn't make him gay, doesn’t make him any less of a man, it just makes him who he is.
A human being.
And for goodness sakes, tell him that blue does not have to be his favorite color, than he can indulge in pink, or purple or even magenta!
And to the girl who take on the task, remember please, that it is not always the Knight who saves the Princess.
No, this time, the Princess may need to save the Knight.
Do not pour your problems onto him, rather, balance each other out.
Be a shoulder to cry on. A friend to be there. A love that never leaves.
Perhaps more than often,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
I Fell In love Inside of a DreamI fell in love,
inside of a dream.
And woke up,
with a broken heart.
But it wasn't my heart,
that was broken.
It was his,
and I'll never see him again.
That long haired, pale skin,
blue eyed boy, will forever remain,
a figment of my imagination.
So close, yet so far away.
And I will never be able to apologize,
for my mistake.
ShatteredIf I found you, on your knees,
trying desperately to collect the shattered pieces of your heart-
I would kneel beside you and help you pick them up.
I would not cast a blind eye,
and pretend I had not seen you.
If I saw that your hands had been cut,
by the very shards of hope you were trying so hard to gather-
I would take your hands in mine, and hold them until the pain subsided.
Then I would kiss every wound- no matter how big or how small,
until I was sure you would be able to use your hands again.
If you were crying from the fear that you'd never be able to pick up everything,
I would hold you until your tears stopped, and I would comfort you with gentle words.
But I would not lie to you- I would never lie.
The heart is a frail thing- once shattered, it can never be fully repaired.
Parts will remain missing, and the mended hope will always bear cracks.
If we found that we'd gathered all that we were able,
and that there were a fine powder remaining of what we could not collect.
...You struck a chord in my soul.
Now it rings in my ears,
sweet melody that deafens
screams louder now can't hear it's own
a poem about too many people and too much heart.you were my
conclusion- the last paragraph
and the last thing
i got to say.
i loved you and i
took words from
between my eyelashes and i
put them down for
you, i took you apart
a million times
in my mind and always put you
and i drew
you, soft and silhouetted
window, the pane
foggy and i thought of you
in the darkest of
times, because i kept telling myself
that you were the
light (like you
i know that i am just
a girl with
too much heart and
too weak of ribs; but
i was hoping
that you would help the foxes
hunt the hounds, just for
Dying daysI'm not the one you wished for
I'm not the one you chose
But no matter what I'm the one
Who's always there for you
But you took my kindness
And smeared my name
Dragging it down the alley
And fucking it like a whore
Is this all I am to you?
All that I have done for you...
Is it for not?
What could happen
What if I had left you there
Crying on the city street?
What if I had never welcomed
You into my home?
Would you be the same
As you are today?
The one who stole my heart
Only to give it away?
You took my pride and crushed it
Shattering it to bits.
Following with my dignity
Which you ripped to shreds.
Is this all I am to you?
A silly little whore?
One that you can fuck all day
Is this all I am worth?
Not even getting away...
I still love you more and more
With each new dying day
But this pain I cannot stand
Which is why you're here
Crying as you're dying now
With my silver scissors...
But alone you come back to me
Begging pleading me to stay
But now you lay here dying
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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