New York's best kept Secret

Bellatrix Ficlet (old)

Thu, 11 Oct 2007 20:21:02 GMT

There is a small boy. [In ghostly disposition.] He speaks like a man: with words too big for his mouth, and teeth too strong for his smile. There is the bite of decades in his humor, a small knowing twinkle in bright eyes. He has young hands that move fast and without attention to their surroundings: sullying carpets, curtains& cushions.

At times she feels him as cold and hard as a wall, or as soft and yielding as a puppy. His breath new and lively, jumping and stretching with his running feet; yielding to his small limbs. He has lungs that breathe in air as old as time, and drown in water as thick as sin.

He is at her fingertips while she washes his soft blond hair and tells him how it will be to have a brother. Bella gazes at him, and hopes for the child newly in her womb to feel as this boy does beneath her hands. Motherhood is a secret passion she thinks, and hears Narcissa laughing loudly from the hallway. A playful shriek and a rough tumbling as Lucius's laughter joins her sister's.

She pulls Draco from the bath and wraps him in a large towel. Rodolphus swings the door open wide and stands in the frame as she shuffles her hands along the small boy's back.

'Like a brother.' She says. [Whispering in his ear.] Two weeks before she's caught.

Her breath catches and she peers outside her cell. Draco's small eyes understand, hands wrapped firmly against the metal bars between them. There is no brother.

And there never will be.

Random Fandom Nonsense

Fri, 18 May 2007 17:52:45 GMT

I'm home from NYC as of yesterday. And I have lots of tasks to do as a job. And I have lots of tasks to do as a fangirl. Blah Blah Blah.

DGExchange:
Is basically finished. I think I have about another 2 sections to write and it's done, other then of course the beta work. Which I'm dreading a little. I have friend who can do basic read through, but I really need to find some who's good at voice. And help me figure out where I'm switching tone and such.

HPArtExchange:
I haven't started yet, but I'm not particularly worried. Art seems to cause less pressure then writing.

HPoptionart:
Whoops, haven't posting in a week or two there. Needs to get on top of that. Anyone who wants to co-manage, should really get at me. Seriously, though, I'd love to share the com. You wouldn't even need to do art, just post what you'd like people to work on!

Vincent Crabbe

Sat, 28 Apr 2007 17:04:26 GMT

Vincent Crabbe
I suffer from an acute desire to make all the characters reasonably shaggable. :]
This has a ficlet with it, I might post some other time.

Cho Chang

Sat, 28 Apr 2007 17:03:00 GMT

Cho Chang

Scraps and False starts

Fri, 30 Mar 2007 18:22:42 GMT

Exchange with anemonesque

From the Reject Bin

Attempts at Slash

Draco/Theo

Harry/Draco

Neville/Theo

Neville/Theo

Theo

Coloring Attempts with Luna

Countless more in my sketchbook, involving twins, lots of Pansy, a few family portraits of the Black Sisters, Black Brothers, one or two Tom Riddles.

Warnings-
Image Heavy
Light Slash
Unfinished
Learning attempts with coloring on the computer. >.O

Tue, 21 Nov 2006 19:24:41 GMT

Artist: Moi
Title: Story Teller
Rating: G
Character(s): Ginny Luna
Warnings: None
Challenge Entry: No
Work Safe: Yes
Media: GIMP
Notes: First post, more to come. I'm still getting used to working on a computer. I didn't really feel this was done, I'm just tired of working on it. The background was meant to be like the castle wall they are sitting against it in the corridor or something.

Sun, 15 Oct 2006 00:23:42 GMT

What is a faithful man,
Oh and he is a godly godly man
With teeth of glass
And tongues of praise
Clean from want and wish
Never-ever wish my bones
Bones and bones and flesh
This is my flesh flesh
And woman in and of my kiss
sinner sinner
bitter better in his mouth means
all of you are gone.
My godly godly faithful man.
Faith, is faith in me
Faith in the good great God.
Sip and kiss, wish and bliss
Godly man, where have you gone?

Thu, 27 Apr 2006 00:29:09 GMT

Before it could make much sense, and we truly stopped living just for one another, there was that dependence I wasn't scared to know. I could say I've stopped depending, but I'm not sure that's entirely the point at hand. We all have stopped. Loving, Needing, Seeing, Dreaming who are we to --be, anymore? What is not abrasive about the way we bare our teeth, and snake our hands around each other?

If you had asked how I felt about it all, I would've simply told you "the cunt could die for all I care." Because we do all need each other. I may not see, but I see this. I can see the way she dances for you, head thrown back like you've broken her neck, when your thigh crashed against her pelvis. With your hands purchasing everything they can afford. In those moments, I can't help but wonder the sorts of debt you owe.

The way a rise comes out of me, is just like the way I can inhale her on your skin. Find vestiges of her in your eyes, and on your voice. In the way I see you move because for you, she is next to you. A rise expelled from my not -quitesoblantentlyprofoundeversinking, blackhole depth. I'm not angry, honest. Even when I watch you take an optical tour of her breasts.

In this very moment, and at this very time -I feel: numb? Like I do when I'm painting, and too much brown makes my shadows bruised and livid. I can not tell you this, because you do not paint, nor do you see what I paint. Neither could I explain the way I take my morning tea without sugar when I crave having a bad day. I just need to sometimes, and I don't expect you to understand.

When it's crystal clear, the light is fragmented and you wouldn't know if I was lying to you or not. Not that you can ever tell anyways. In our obscene way of making gestures some people call infatuation. They still don't understand we are not consumed by one another any longer. But were we ever? I was. I think, I'm not sure as I'm trying my best to not remember. Though, I hope I never quite forget the way I taste coming off of you. Would you understand that?

Sometimes I think it's best to forego the casualties, and end this. The way your scent lingers here, it tells me you wanted to stay. I understand, because at times I wanted that too. Though, it may just be the way we fitting like male and female puzzle pieces.

Let me tell you all about her now, she's beautiful. Not like you were. I'm done believing you were the only man who could make me over flow. She's sinful, in her way. She has never cried or looked at me with the distortion of pleasure cast across her face. And she laughs when people cry, and I respect that. We seem to agree, pain can only ever be skin deep. On the night I first invited her in to meet the family, she didn't freeze and demand they only look at her through the window, because she was more comfortable on the front porch, high from our first last one more goodnight kiss. Though I'm sure you didn't mean to at the time.

You're very much gone from me when she's near. I'm alright with that, because in those minutes, and hours, and occasionally on those weekends when he husband has to work, you're really gone. Because she's here, and really what I starve for in my way. A tired animal kiss searching in the night for where she will lie in my bed. In a way you might not see, it's ok- I don't see either, she's my lover. And you, you're my velveteen rabbit of sorts.

rambles

Sat, 22 Apr 2006 02:40:52 GMT

And I love you the way my bookie loves the cigarette so safely tucked behind his ear. In the way that he will take her and use her up like she's the only thing left in his world.
I can see as he looks at me now, sitting impatiently for his soonest break, the next chance he gets filling his lungs with her smokey furls like the oxygen she's displacing is hardly worth his time. And at last he heaves a sigh, that tells me just how exasperated he is not have her at his mouth,
and I'll look at you just the way he sees through that cigarette down to the last drag for he stops to examine what he's doing. And love I'll keep you safely tucked behind my ear till I can put you away.
That safe spot behind his ears. Just waiting for the time.

Sat, 18 Mar 2006 01:39:35 GMT

Oh. There is another woman in my bed
whos soft body sprawls into my sheets
she calls me to her arms
a makes love to me in an art long lost
her wild hair and rain sweat hands
glide through my every thought
with an ocean air that courses in
this window, between these sheets
forcing our bodies apart
tickling and rippling over her
delightful skin
Her smell so keenly feminine
only just masks the sweat
of my husband on this bed
where he carves his hips
in mine
to summarize a word no longer
mentioned between us: love.
She pulls the sheet across
her back and evelopes us both
seals us with her air filled kiss
and there she spoonfeeds me
with her honeyed breath.

Mon, 06 Feb 2006 20:55:41 GMT

I watch the snow rise off the drifts
In gusts of lust and love.
And your bow sweeping it's strings
Lightly
The softest humming and murmur
espaces the tightest of our lips.

Fri, 13 Jan 2006 03:50:57 GMT

Oh and I feel.
I feel.
Above all long lost
help.
I feel and heaven's
guilt
Keep you from me.
Touch
In vain and keep
you safe.
These flowers quake.
Baskets
weaved and songs
unraveled.
Discovered and alone.
I feel
Oh and I feel.
That heaven's wrath is
undone.
I see, you and us.
And we.
We are so fragile.
Smile.
If I feel. I won't hide it.
Children.
They bloom between
us.
And I feel. Oh so I feel.
And I
I won't hide it.
And I see. With heaven's
wrath undone.

Fri, 13 Jan 2006 03:36:48 GMT

I love Alcoholics

Oh, I love Alcoholics
All wound up and drunk down.
Sucked in and breathed apart.

Oh I love Alcoholics
All dismembered memories
and falsities alike.
Turn in and cashed out.

Oh my love for alcoholics
Waned and stretched
fitted neat and clean.
Pennies splashing,
copper and oh so green

Change

Thu, 24 Nov 2005 21:20:46 GMT

---,
        Do you ever feel trapped? And I don't mean trapped- it's hard to explain... Like when you're losing your breath, and your body is numbed, and there's theses forces keeping you going but none of them are about you? I have these moments where I'll wake up and just breathe for hours. And I feel like I'm finally able to breathe, and when I think that it goes away, and I'm locked apart again and set aside for something I don't understand and I just can't explain. It's like someone is hugging me so tightly and loving me so deeply I can't move, and at times I swear I tell myself that I don't want to.
        Do you ever feel, that if you could just explode into a million pieces of anything, anything at all that couldn't be controlled, that can't be contained, that you just might make it through one more moment of this.
                                                      Love Abby.