Don't Touch Me, Please.Don't Touch Me, Please.4 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Name: Andrea "Andie" Danica Maycott
House & Year: Ravenclaw, 6th year
Wand: 13 inch, Oak, Unicorn hair core
Achievements: Ravenclaw Quidditch Watergirl
Blood Purity: Half Blood
Appearance: Sometimes mistaken for a boy at certain angles, She has a very feminine and pretty face. She is known for having a special hairstyle, ear-short all around and chin-length in the front. Her hair is parted in the front to frame and show her face. Her hair color is a light shade of brown. Her skin is clear, and the color of it is your average tone for an English woman; light and fair. Her eyes are gray with a very small tint of blue. She loves clothes of bigger sizes, as long as they don't slip off. Since she usually wears these type of clothes, it adds to the fact that she is mistaken as a boy at some angles. She prefers pants over skirts but goes with the dress code for class, but wears her jeans whenever she can. Her biggest facial feature is her eyes, making those big gray eyes great guns for the Pu
Medicinal: Varric x Fenris"... and then she leaned over, brushed her hand over my collar, moving so close I could feel her breath on my ear. Before she pulled away, she murmured a quiet, 'Good on you, Varric; should the nights get too cold this winter, I'll at least know the location of the warmest bed in the Free Marches.' I've never seen a smirk that damn... smug in all of my years on anyone but myself."Medicinal: Varric x Fenris4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The elf half-lying on the opposite side of the couch took a long drag from the slow-burning cigarette, drawing the smokes into his lungs only to keep it there until he felt the burn. Exhaling slowly, his eyes fluttered open to watch tendrils of thick gray leave his mouth and nose, curling up around the contours of his face.
"Considering our location, the tales of your excess don't surprise me," he murmured, shifting himself on the dark red cushions. "The truth in them, however, is up for debate. Much... much debate. Mmm."
Varric glanced around. He'd already soaked up every detail in this lavishly decor
Airplane HeartI was sitting on a plane with nothing to do,Airplane Heart3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when all of a sudden I thought of you.
Your blonde hair. Your sky blue eyes.
And when you said your last goodbyes.
We had to go, we had to part.
You took a away piece of my heart.
Imagination BoxImagination BoxImagination Box3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In my box my childhood was made.
I was a pirate I had a hook.
I was a ballerina I had a tutu.
I was a wizard I had a hat.
I was a superhero I had a cape.
I was a doctor I had a stethiscope.
In my imagination box I could be anything.
But then I grew up and I became a garbage man.
Under The MoonUnder the moon there I wasUnder The Moon3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my life and dreams
The silence of wind and the breeze
filling me with hope and joy
The flower beds blew in the breeze
Of the silver blue moon beams.
TPFAJM - Chapter 1: CaptureTPFAJM - Chapter 1: Capture4 years ago in Drama More Like This
Game: Dragon Age
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and it's characters belong to Bioware.
"What's your name boy?"
His mother moves to answer, but something snaps in him and he gets in first. "Anders," he says. One of the Templars sniggers, and he hears his mother protesting, but it's too late for any of that. It was too late the moment the first fingers of flame started in the straw of the barn. The name is accurate enough. His mother calls him pet names, like "sweetheart" or "darling", and he groans and tells her he has a proper name while inside he feels special and loved. His father more often than not "boy." His given name has never had much meaning for him, and it's easy to give the name the boys in the village use for him.
The boy he used to be, the one who had a mother and a father and a home that wasn't populated by tinsuited monsters, that boy isn't him any more.
"All right then, my little Anders," the Templar says. "Let's b
Hem of Your Garment -APH-I am intrinsically no goodHem of Your Garment -APH-5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I have a heart that's made of wood
I am only biding time
Only reciting memorized lines
And I'm not fit to touch
The hem of your garment
I remembered when I first became Rome's "Guard." I wasn't happy about it, really. Though war, and terror and conquering, this man had the nerve....
"I like you." He said with a triumphant grin. "And you're a good fighter. And you're kind of cute, in a weird way." He laughed, a full, jolly laugh. "How about you become my bodyguard?"
No, no I'm not fit to touch the hem of your garment
But somehow, we had become friends. I was a good listener and Rome, well, he liked to talk. Most of the time, the brunette were surrounded by women and servants and such... but always seemed to be speaking to me directly. And I hung on ever word.
I have no love but only goals
How very empty is my soul
It is a soul that feels no thrill
A soul that could easily kill
And I'm not fit to touch
The hem of your garment
The MeadowThe meadow is full of flowers nowThe Meadow3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I remember how in the Summer months we used to play
When hayfever struck you would laugh
At how I sneezed the cobwebs away
We would startle birds and watch
As they chased away the dying hours
Just for a few more minutes, seconds, in your company.
I would like to lie in the meadow now,
And let the flowers dance over me
I will listen to the birds sing their hymns
In their hushed dulcet tones
As the sun begins to fade.
I would lay our bodies side by side
The wind will kiss our skin
We shall dream with our hands entwined
Of the thousand moments that belong to us
But you have long since gone away
And so I lie in the meadow alone.
The Three SongsThe First SongThe Three Songs4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
The first song is easy; it is the song of magic and love. It is a song for the world and, therefore, it is the sort of thing you hear murmuring through the streets late at night or in the hum of young people dancing. I first heard it long ago; I was travelling deep into the recesses of my mind, and I discovered the image of myself. It was like a mirror, but one that was thousands of years old. Rather than bother him, the image that is, I decided to just watch. And to just see where he might be going.
The image of myself was walking in the garden.
He was wandering, clearly unaware of where he was going: lost and lonely. Through the canyons and forests, across the desert. The images flashed by, but I knew he'd been travelling for a long time. While I watched, he met a girl in the forest, and she took his hand and g
A Most Unlikely AllyWell-Woven Net, Knot 12: A Most Unlikely AllyA Most Unlikely Ally5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The Wardens' party had been to the Gnawed Noble Tavern before, assisting the Denerim city guard with some out-of-control mercenaries; the barmaids recognized them, or at least, they recognized Alessar and Zevran, who stood out as openly armed elves, and the group was immediately offered drinks. Alessar demurred politely, saying that they were there for business, and inquired where they might find the Antivan merchant they were meeting.
The girl who answered seemed nonplussed, if not a little nervous, as she directed the party to the first guest room in the back. They entered cautiously, keeping an eye out for anything as mundane as a mechanical trap or a sneak attack, but the way was clear.
Ignacio waited in the innermost room, two silent guards looming in the corners. Alessar knew Alistair and Zevran would make sure their exit route would not be blocked off -- at least, not from the inside -- so for
Five, ten, fifteen, twentyChapter 1- Altair ibn-La Ahad.Five, ten, fifteen, twenty5 years ago in Profiles More Like This
The young boy tiredly dragged his sleeve across his forehead, miserably attempting to wipe the sweat off his brow. However, no amount of heat could force him to let go of his father's hand as the two of them made their rocky ascent. They had been travelling for such a long time now, Altair had abandoned any hope of being told where they were going. All he knew was the blazing of the desert sun, the dusty air of the mountains, and the heat of his father's palm in his hand. Finally, after hours upon hours of walking, the tall man in white paused. The child beside him came to a hesitant stop, looking up worriedly. He followed his father's gaze to reveal a small village built into the mountain. It looked typical; small clusters of houses (or lack thereof), a sandy well, a small shed for horses- but one thing stood out. On a broad mountain overhead stood a magnificent fortress- the sun looming over it in such a way that it shimmered- a palace of angels
Terezi vs. Cleverbot -- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling Cleverbot [CB] --Terezi vs. Cleverbot4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
GC: WH4T'S UP?
CB: I am studying for exams, you?
GC: WH4T 4R3 3X4MS?
CB: There's no subject, just some words I have to translate...
GC: YOU D1DN'T 4NSW3R MY QU3ST1ON
CB: I'm sorry if I've said anything incorrectly.
GC: YOU'R3 LUCKY 1 L1K3 YOUR M1NTY BLU3 WORDS
CB: I'm sorr .
GC: WH4T TH3 H3LL 4R3 YOU 4POLOG1Z1NG FOR?
CB: For your patience.
GC: 1'M NOT B31NG P4T13NT, 1'M SM3LL1NG YOUR T3XT
CB: I love turtles.
GC: K4RK4T'S R1GHT, YOU 4R3 4NNOY1NG, L1K3 3R1D4N
CB: I know, right? Me too.
GC: YOU M4K3 NO S3NS3
CB: Are you sure? Won't the groom get mad?
GC: 1 DON'T C4R3 4BOUT TH3 GROOM
CB: You're talking nonsense.
GC: NO YOU 4R3
CB: I know you are, but what am I?
GC: YOU 4R3 B3ING STUP1D
CB: I am rubber an
A Different Kind Of Forever- Fire in your eyes Today was Malik's 16th birthday. It had been a hard day of training, and after everything, there was no birthday wishes, no presents or any special treatment. He knew this was how it should be in the order, but Malik couldn't help but wish for something more on his special day..A Different Kind Of Forever- Fire in your eyes3 years ago in Settings More Like This
Flopping down on his bed, he felt something hard poke at his shoulder.
Groaning, he rolled over and picked up the offending object to find it..
It was against the rules to bring anything in from the outside into the fortress, that wasn't directly related to the order. Whoever left this here was taking a very big risk, and clearly didn't care, considering they left it out in the open.
About to throw it away, he spied something written on the corner of the wrapping.
Malik furrowed his brow, wondering why the script was nearly illegible. All assassins were well educated, and their writing would sure be better than-
Oh. Good god. Altaïr.
Only he has such terrible penma
THIS is Mary Sue peopleMary was the best person ever! All the good she did where ever she went was just so amazing, dead flowers would come back to life. She made friends everywhere she would go, and no one could resist her charms and persuasions. Heck, Mary didn't even have to try! Just by being there, she made things ever so much better! Yay, Mary!@@!!@!@!111THIS is Mary Sue people4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Somehow she ended up in the Mojave Desert. It wasn't a sunny day so Mary wasn't all that happy. So she gave a girly perky squeeze, let out a little fresh smelling fart, the sun came out brightly, and lit up even the darkest of caves with energetic light and freshness.
"Much better!" Mary said and skipped on down the broken roads. When she tripped over a rough patch, she looked at the road. "This will not do. No, not at all. These people deserve roads which are perfect like I am!" So she whistled a happy little ditty as she resumed skipping along, and the road repaired itself in a matter of minutes. Mary was that damned good.
Coming across some Fiends,
The Beautiful Melody In all my centuries of being with Casimiro , I have never once heard nor seen him play a violin, till now. I have no knowledge of whether he learned it long before I met him or if he had a nature talent for such a thing.The Beautiful Melody4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
With how he acts everyday you would not think he could capable of such a thing as playing the violin. Whichever it was....it was amazing.
I watched him for the longest of time, simply staring as he sat on top of the balcony rail, in the blinding light of the full moon, playing the ebony colored violin, producing a bittersweet melody, with his long, dark, nimble fingers.
I had pondered if he had done the same when he was human, when he lived in his hometown, in Italy. Did the people there in his hometown, have the pleasure to listen as he stroked the musical stings with the smooth surface of the bow, creating a variety of melodies that only the violin could make.
I rested on the couch, my back against the arm o
Good morning, darlingRussia groaned softly as he felt the first rays of American mornings on his face, through the half-open curtains. He shifted and tried to tighten his grip on the bundle that should still be huddled against his chest, before opening his eyes. He blinked at his empty, obviously America-less arms, before sleepily sitting up and rubbing his eyes, and slipping out of bed. He looked up when he heard a curse in the bathroom, and walked towards it, opening the door. He stared.Good morning, darling5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"America, what are you doing?" He asked. America looked up at him.
"I've lost Texas " He mourned.
Germany slammed his fist on the alarm, checking the Italian curled against his chest, and sighed when he didn't stir. Carefully he started to slide out of his grip, freezing when Italy moaned. Looking around, he grabbed a pillow and managed to skilfully slide the pillow into place as he made his escape. Sliding out of bed, he padded softly across the room toward
Just A Good Night's Sleep“Lesse if the lights are still working…”Just A Good Night's Sleep9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
It wasn’t just the light Sig worried about, but when the bulb dangling from the ceiling flashed on things did look up. Even if everything had been fine just a few days ago when he last visited the small apartment, that was in no way a guarantee for anything. In this part of town you could never be sure about things like working electricity.
“I thought you lived by the Hip Hog,” Jak said behind him, voice echoing slightly in the empty stairwell.
Sig looked over his shoulder, lips stretching a little as he stepped further inside.
“Yeah,” he said. “But it’s nice to have someplace closer by when you’ve been out.”
A tired sound of agreement left Jak’s lips and he rolled his shoulders. The movement seemed to be a call for Daxter to hop off – whether or not it actually was one, he immediately obeyed
An Unburied RegretWell-Woven Net, Knot 10: An Unburied RegretAn Unburied Regret5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Zevran sat near the fire, as was his habit after supper. Frequently, this time was spent mending his gear or sharpening his blades, sometimes accompanied by a bit of chat, sometimes not. Tonight was one of the rare occasions that he had little to work on while the others went about their business, and he found himself examining the pair of Dalish gloves that Alessar had given to him.
The assassin hadn't understood at first; he was perfectly happy with the light, well-worn leather gloves he already had, and it took time to get a new pair of gloves properly broken in. Given the constant threat of werewolf attacks since they'd entered the forest proper, the story about his mother's gloves that he had told the Grey Warden in the Dalish camp had been last thing on his mind in the past couple of days. It was just another of those personal bits of trivia that he seemed to let slip with unsettling re
Madness: Chapter 1 [AxD]This was it. This was the part where he finally will kill Alexander. The older man floating up there, naked and laughing at him, like he already succeeded. Well he didn't. No. No matter what he learned, no matter what he did, it had all been Alexander's fault. He was the monster. Not him. And there was no way he was just going to sit here and let the man get away and succeed. No. He will pay. Without even a second thought, Daniel pushed on one of the weak columns he saw earlier when he walked in the Inner Sanctum. They fell and crashed to the ground, crumbling upon impact. The room shook and Alexander's voice was loud in his ears, demanding he stop. But he won't. Knocking down the other pillar showed Alexander that he was very serious and now Alexander decided to change tactics. Pleading, begging him to stop and think about what he was doing. But Daniel would have none of it. He was tired, angry, and ready to finish what he started. He let himself get lost in the rage.Madness: Chapter 1 [AxD]3 years ago in Horror More Like This
The last pillar
Commedia dell'Arte - Chapter 2Chapter 2: The Taming of the ShrewCommedia dell'Arte - Chapter 24 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The second rehearsal followed the next week and Leonardo wasn't sure if he should feel dread or joyous anticipation. Preparations for Carnevale were beginning to grow in intensity and the entire city was caught in a wild flurry of activity. The joy of Carnevale was tangible in Venice - a joy he could not share, not with the knowledge of the looming bloodshed. Hopefully, no-one visiting him during this time of preparation would take notice of his demeanor.
The thieves were loud and full of mischief as always, though they were more careful with their teasing - something Ezio must have said the previous week had struck a chord. Ezio himself was nowhere to be seen, but the others were in various states of undress, trying their costumes, so the Assassin must have hidden somewhere to try his own. Leonardo's own costume, a lavishly ornamented dark red doublet and fitting beret, was handed to him by the director with the request to try it on. Guessing
Torn_AwayHe never felt the claws that caught his face, ripping skin dangerously close to his blue eyes. He did feel the leather around torso snap under the heavy grip and heard the high pitched shriek from his left shoulder. It was the only thing that mattered in that instant, drowning as the moment hit him in the chest.Torn_Away11 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
It was like being dunked into the harbour of Haven. It felt filthy, he was choking on too thick air and it was freezing cold, rushing through his body, inside his veins. It brought that same gagging feeling at the harbour water too, like he wanted to be sick.
A spray of red arced before his eyes, and he felt himself being thrown sideways as something hit his shoulder. It didn't matter.
A flying ball of colour, fiery like a sunset, passed before him. Red flicked in every direction and he stood there, leaning forwards, willing himself to move, to leap and grab and kill and hate and hurt.
But all he could do was feel cold.
The tiny ball slammed into the ruins and slid downwards, s
My SongThe music swirls all around,My Song2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
till all I hear is the joyous sound,
twirling, spinning, moving me,
and the endless notes are all I see.
The beat becomes my hearts own.
I feel as though the light has shown,
and all the sadness fades away,
and I finally see a happier day.
My lips part, and I sing along
To such a redeeming, beautiful song.
These moments come and go too fast.
I enjoy them greatly as they last.
I laugh in glee.
I feel so free.
What magic is this,
this utter bliss?
Stay with me, my pretty song,
with you the days don't seem so long.
With you I am so filled with hope,
I know with you, somehow I'll cope.
Together we'll stay.
You'll scare the darkness away,
Yes, stay here my friend,
play your notes till my end,
and with your melody in my ears,
I'll go without any silly fears.
I'll meet my maker with you at my side,
then he'll hold me close, no need to hide.
Yes, my song, you'll get me there,
with your notes, and tune, so full of care.
You'll be my very dearest friend,
until my bea
Bureau spittingThe temperature in the bureau was, for once, bearable. Inside the tiny cavity, two men sat at a counter, busily scratching away at parchment with sharpened quills. While both were tall, one man was obscured by a large white hood. Why one would wear such a hood indoors was just one of those unasked questions, but it didn't seem to bother him at all. The man had remarkable golden eyes, which were at the moment busy narrowing in concentration. His scarred lip was pulled into a grimace as he stared at his scrap of parchment intensely. The inky, sprawled letters had nothing to say to him, as it seemed. And so he returned to writing.Bureau spitting4 years ago in Comedy More Like This
Across from him was the other man- who seemed much more relaxed. On his uncovered head sat an endearing tuft of black hair, somewhat matted from large amounts of time spent indoors. His chocolaty brown eyes were focused on his own piece of paper, but his quill graced it lightly, not at all rushed or anxious. The hand that guided it, his only remaining, judging f
GaMzEe+KARKAT: sobriety sucksYOU ARE NOW TALKING TO A RANDOM FUCKASS. SAY SOMETHING, ASSHOLE!GaMzEe+KARKAT: sobriety sucks4 years ago in Drama More Like This
or SAVE THIS LOG.
▲: HeY MoThErFuCkInG BeSt fRiEnD.
▼: WAIT ONE FUCKING SECOND
▼: YOU KNOW THE DRILL
▼: BEFORE I CAN TALK TO YOU YOU HAVE TO TELL ME HOW MANY PIES YOU'VE SHOVED DOWN YOUR PROTEIN CHUTE
▲: NoT EnOuGh dUdE... rUnNiNg lOw.
▲: LiKe, MaYbE 3? I DoN'T MoThErFuCkInG KnOw aNyMoRe.
▼: JUST WHAT I FUCKING THOUGHT
▼: YOU PROBABLY FELL ASLEEP AT YOUR FUCKING HUSKTOP]
▼: THE FUCK
▼: THREE ALREADY?
▼: DIDNT YOU JUST WAKE UP AN HOUR AGO?
▲: SoBrIeTy iS A BiTcH MaN. I'M StArTiNg tO FeEl tHiNgS...
▲: I UsUaLlY EaT A LoT MoRe tHaN ThReE In aN HoUr, DuDe.
▼: OH YEAH?
▼: HELL IF I FUCKING KNOW I DONT TOUCH THE STUFF
▲: I'M DePrEsSeD, mAn. wHeRe'd AlL tHe mOtHeRfUcKiNg mIrAcLeS Go?
▼: YOU UH
▼: YOU HOLDING OUT OKAY?
▼: ) WAIT NO DONT
▼: I ORDER YOU TO STOP BEING DEPRES