Admirer's Thread

[Narcissa Black]

He needed someone to turn his world right-side up, because he hated the view of it upside-down.

"Fuck you too, Evans," he muttered finally, gripping his broom tighter. His back was still turned to her, and he wasn't quite sure if she could hear him. So, he said it again, louder this time. He had turned to face her, his hazel eyes filled with tears of anger. This was... Ineffable. He couldn't even-- "Fuck you too." He realized, somewhere, far beneath the surface, that he was telling her the polar opposite of what she had just admitted to him. He knew he was being an inconsiderate asshole. A right prick, if we were really going to be frank. Seriously, though, he was hurt. He was so goddamned hurt over this that he couldn't bring himself to care about Lily's feelings. After seven years of her not giving a shit about his, it was only fitting. The hysteria from earlier was bubbling up again, but he refused to laugh. He refused to even smile at her; she didn't deserve it.

"I have waited... Merlin, have I waited so fucking long to hear you say that," he growled impatiently, stalking back so that there wasn't such a large space between them. "Seven years of my life, I waited to hear you say that to me. I waited for you to give me the chance so that I could one day have you say those words to me. I waited and I waited, and I fucking waited for you to say that to me, and you know what, Evans?" There was the laughter, that bitter, angry laughter that he couldn't quite control anymore. "I hear them now, and it-- it makes me sick. Fucking sick." He shook his head, moving away from her again. If he was within grabbing distance, he was within strangling distance. He shook his head again, trying to clear it. "Marlene... Marls..." he paused, trying to think how best to put it, "Marls just... she just... understood, you know? There was none of this... this bullshit. There was none of this," he gestured between the two of them. "She makes me happy, Lily. She makes me so goddamned happy, that I can't-- I won't... No," he said firmly, shaking his head again. "No, no, no, no, no. I won't do this to her, Lily. I can't fucking do this to her. What I feel for Marlene might not ever reach what I thought I felt for you, but... she fucking gave me the chance when I wanted it, Lily. She didn't wait around until I was happy before she came along. She didn't fuck with my life for no reason whatsoever, she fit, dammit. She fits right now, and I-- damn it!" He swore again, nearly tossing his broom across the Pitch. Until he remembered it was in his hand. "Goddamn it, Lily Evans." He growled again, pushing past her. He threw his broom angrily into the shed, slamming the door shut. He picked up his tie and his wand, stopping to take one last long look at her.

"So fuck you, too," he said softly, before he stormed away from the Pitch, his earlier flight forgotten as he left the girl he had worshipped for seven years behind. He left her there, by herself, moments after she confessed her love for him. He gagged again, shifting the tie around his neck, tempted to just tie it in a noose and be done with all this bullshit.

Crazy fucking world.

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You're awful; I L O V E Y O U

Kiara as James Potter to Lily Evans (Quidditch Pitch)

Holy.Crap. I'm just sayin'. Kiara? Mann, I can't even express what I felt when I read that. I mean, it's not only James' words, it's everything. The descriptions, and the line He needed someone to turn his world right-side up, because he hated the view of it upside-down.? A killer. Sure winner. Gah. I.just.can't...

Read the goddamned thread already, people.

[Lily Evans]

Okay, basically it's the whole post but the post is, like, SUPER long so I'm not gonna post it all, but anyway I like the last part best:

"No, Ethan, p-please, I--" he couldn't leave "--I d-didn't m-m-mean it--" her, not when she "--I... I'm j-just--" was hyperventilating "--so... scared. I-I didn't... I couldn't--" like this at just the thought "--I didn't think I-I had any other ch-choice, and--" of him leaving "--and I wanted to... to talk to you b-but--" her. The sobs were "--I-I didn't think-- I didn't w-want to... to--" shaking her tiny "--to bother you... w-with this. I-I--" frame; aching her muscles and "--I thought th-that you, that--" destroying her soul. She was just so "--th-that everyone would be h-happier--" tired, yet awake. "--if I w-was... g-gone, but--" Energized "I-I don't--" but exhausted, She gave another tiny tug on his shirt, dropping her grasp on Jacob's hand. She brought the other hand up to fist another portion of his shirt, giving another tiny tug. Her breathing was still coming out in gasps as she stared up at his face. "--I don't want t-to--" gasp "--go any-anymore--" gasp "B-but I-I can't--" gasp "--do this with--" gasp "--with--" gasp "--without--" gasp "--without you."

She closed her eyes, taking a dep, calming breath before opening them up to stare at Ethan again. "P-please... don't-don't leave me... I-I--

"Please."

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From One.Foot.Wrong with Jacob Black and Ethan Cartier

Kiara's excuse for that sort of structure was something to do with Jacob being able to read what she was thinking while she was speaking (I think?) but whatever it was it's just...wow. I loved how it was structured and the whole post itself -hell, all of her posts- are amazing. Seriously. Kiara just...wow. -shakes head-

GO READ IT NOW lol [/blockquote][/color]

[Andromeda Black]

sjskdjskjd!

-flails-

How has it been so long since people posted here? The last post was on my birthday, that was ages ago! We need to get back and start admiring each other again -nods- Mmkay. So. I have a few. To make up for the long stretch of time in which no one was admired ): More than half a year!!!! -coughs- Erm. Okay! So!

1. Johnny Myers - "Let It Go"
Okay so this entire post was like freaking amazing and I think everyone was saying the same thing. IT'S SO SAAAD. Like seriously. But Kiara does an amazing job of wrenching our heartstrings as Johnny. I don't think anyone was able to read through that and not want to give Johnny a big hug. Seriously. Or maybe that's just me and my guilt talking. Well... all in the name of good plottage -nods- Here's an excerpt of it.

f*g**t.

He sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes as if it had been a physical blow. He turned his face away, bringing his elbows up to rest on the table. He cradled his head in his hands. The word, the tone of her voice, the look on her face! It kept replaying in his head over and over like some broken fucking record. The worst part was that he knew she meant it. Everything combined just proved how much she meant it; there was no way someone could fake that much malice. His mind started racing all over again; had this been a trap? Was this some sort of sick little game between the two of them? See if they could make the f*g**t cry? He took in another shuddering breath, clenching his eyes shut against the tears he felt as she kept going. Annie. His best friend. His ex-girlfriend. Someone he had considered to be one of his closest, closest friends, nearly to the point of considering her family. Someone he had thought could understand, and here she was, throwing it all back in his face. He winced at the name again, fingers threading in his hair and grabbing on. A mudblood. A mudblood f*g**t. He let out a breath, hating how he spluttered it out. Hated how they would be able to see how much this was hurting him. His shoulders quaked and his hands tightened in his hair. He let out another breath when she finished, a choked sob having escaped as she rubbed it in. His own fucking family hated him; something he thought they related on. Something he had told her in confidence. Something she had sworn to never, ever tell, and here she was, throwing it right back in his face. Proving that he was just as much of a fuck-up as he felt. Even in the silence afterward, he still hadn't felt the urge to actually leave. He still didn't seem able to unglue his ass from the seat and storm out of there as he should have, only throwing a sarastic quip over his shoulder. A one-liner that would bring both of these-- these bitches to their knees. He couldn't even bring himself to breathe properly, his breath coming in short pants as he tried desperately to hang on to the one shred of dignity that he had left and not fucking cry in front of these girls. He couldn't bring himself to leave because somewhere, deep down, he realized how much he deserved this. Deep down, he knew that she was right, and that made the pain that much worse.

He brought his fists down from his hair, slamming them on the table. He turned his body to look at her. To really stare at her and figure out exactly what this is, because he didn't have a clue. Where was this coming from? He forgot Bellatrix was sitting on the other side of the booth. He forgot her because he expected this from her. He would never, in a million years, have expected this from Annie. His mouth opened on it's own accord, the words on the tip of his tongue. Except that his throat was swollen and his mouth was dry. As much as he wanted to say it, he couldn't bring himself to. He wasn't alone. He knew he wasn't alone; he had friends. So he wasn't as popular as he had been before he had come out, but what the fuck difference did that make? His tongue darted out to lick his lips, eyebrows raising as he finally was about to give Annie a piece of his mind when she threw just onemorefuckingthing in his face. It was then that a new word fell from his lips, something he hadn't even considered before. Instead of the witty remark, instead of the one-liner, something much more soft and pathetic fell from his lips. "Stop," he pleaded with her quietly, the word barely breaking over the loud buzzing of the bar. It was certainly drowned out by her own rant. "Annie, please, stop," he was begging her, turning again and cradling his head back in his hands. He couldn't take much more of this. He really couldn't. He would've been able to handle this from Bellatrix. He would have been able to stomach this from Rabastan Lestrange. Hell, he would have preferred it from a stranger. Because they didn't know any better. From Annie, it was like a knife to his back over and over and over. There were only so many times someone can get stabbed before they bleed out, and he could feel his life slipping from his own fingertips. He could feel himself begin to lose it. He didn't bother stopping the tears, he didn't bother hiding his shaking shoulders, and he definitely didn't stop the word from falling from his lips over and over. "Stop, please, just stop." It became his mantra. "Annie, please. Stop."

2. Jackie Fontaine - "Fall To Pieces"
Kiara again! Just realized that but, oh well, this is a much different mood so just look at how great she is showing different moods and stufff, yes? Okay. so Jackie and Emery are insanely adorable and I think that this paragraph really captures that well on Jackie's part, just the depth and amount of care that she has for him, how much she's changed... Voila.

Then, the bell rang and she sprang out of her chair, calling a farewell to Jacob over her shoulder. She squeezed past everyone else clamboring for the door, glad that her small frame gave her such freedom in the hallways. It was much easier for her to push past everyone than it would be for a normal-sized person, she supposed, and she found herself making her way up to the Hospital Wing in no time at all. She paused outside the large doors, her hand stalling on the knob. She could do this. He asked for her; he wanted to see her. She took a deep breath and let it out quickly. She could do this. It wasn't that bad; Livy had said it wasn't that bad. She turned the knob and opened the door, green eyes scanning the area for him. She felt as frantic as she had the day she went looking for him to tell him about Ethan. More so, because she knew he was hurt. They landed on his form, toward the back of the Wing, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. "Emery," she said softly, picking up her pace as she moved towards his cot. He was alone, which she was silently thankful for. Now was not the time to be meeting his sisters, really. She tossed her bag down on the ground, kicking off the high-heeled shoes she had worn today. She pushed herself up on his bed, sitting down at his hip. She sucked in a breath at the sight of him, gently bringing her fingers up to touch his face. She brushed some hair off of his forehead, slowly bringing her fingers down to stroke his cheek. "Oh, mon couer," she murmured, her other hand reaching down to grab his. "Qu'est-ce que tu as fait?" She brought her head down, brushing her lips against his forehead, leaning back so that she could look in his eyes. She kept her face close to his, inhaling his scent. She had been right; his proximity alone had the abiltiy to calm her heart down. Incredibly enough, at the same time, it had the ability to make it want to jump right out of her chest. She revelled in the feeling. "Oh, Emery," she repeated softly, a warm smile crossing her lips. It was easier for her to smile than for her to freak out nearly as much as she wanted to in that moment. "What did you do?"

3. Lily Evans - "Got Me Begging You For Mercy"
Whoo, so this thread was like so amazing you should really just go and read the whole darn thing. But I thought that this paragraph/section was really really good because it just seemed to capture so much of Lily's worries and confusion and how mixed up she and everything else is and just... beautiful, Jooj, beautiful.

"Don't you get it? Don't you understand?"

Get what? Understand what? Lily stared at him, his visage blurry thanks to the tears that continued to fall; they were a long-time coming anyway, she figured. She'd almost gone a whole week without giving into the water works, so she must have accumulated enough moisture that just kept the tears flowing, although the rate began to slow down as she forced herself out of her misery long enough to hear him out. Even then, when she was concentrating, it was all a little too hard to believe. Words and phrases like you're it, you're the one, it's always been you, echoed in her disbelieving mind. And all she could really do was stare at him, her lips parted slightly in surprise but no sound coming out as she struggled to gasp this concept - that James loved her. That he was in love with her, not Marlene. That she was the one. That he possibly felt the same way about her that she felt about him. It was almost too much for her, and her own logic rebelled against her heart, trying to reject the ideas that he was feeding her because, subconsciously - or maybe not so subconsciously - she was scared. She was so scared of believing, or letting herself hope, only to have that hope crash down around her, again. She breathed in deeply, tears no longer coursing down her cheeks even though she felt fresh ones wanting to take their place, but she pushed them down for now. Closing her eyes briefly, she let his words wash over her, hearing the cracking of his voice, the genuine honesty in his voice. He loved her? He loved her? It was just...it was just too hard to believe. After everything he had said, after all he had done. He'd said he hated her. And had said it so often, and with such ferocity, that she'd actually believed him.

4. THUNDER - Khai Statton & Rabastan Lestrange
Dude. I'm not even gonna try and pick one little paragraph from this thread. It's like, the epitome of Rabhai, the climax to absolutely everything they've been through. Everyone knows that Izzy and Abbie are amazing and this here is some solid proof of that. A-M-A-Z-I-N-G.

5. Marlene McKinnon - "My Blue Heaven"
Alrighty, I know what you're all thinking. Um, bias much? Yes. Especially when you see exactly which selection I've chosen from this thread. But seriously, bias or not (I'll admit, Sirius and I totally are in this case, obviously) no one can deny Skarletta's sheer brilliance as Marlene. -points to OTM box-Favorite Gryffindor Girl ring a bell, anyone? Yeah. Exactly. I love reading Marlene's posts, any of them really, because they're always flawlessly in-character and real and always beautifully written. And this thread was like one of my favorites, ever, it was seriously all I could think about pretty much for those few days it took us to get it out - it seemed I was always either reading a reply or replying myself with insane amounts of muse. But enough of how amazing Skar/Marls is. Voila le excerpt! -snickers-

Marlene’s train of thought came to a screeching halt as her mind immediately closed off to the feel of Sirius lips against hers. And now, for once, Marlene actually knew the meaning of absolute idiocy. Because she didn’t know what to do, didn’t know if she should move, push him away, or actually kiss him back? And she wasn’t even thinking coherently as her eyelids fluttered close and she felt herself being pulled closer and closer to him, her hands weakly rising instinctively to…what? Push him away? Pull him closer? What? What was happening here? And why was he doing all of this? That damn little question again. She’d known she was never going to be able to get rid of it. It would be idiotic of her to deny the fact that he was managing to distract her so much better than anyone else could ever afford to do, but that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t. But if that wasn’t the point, then what was? Was there even sense somewhere in here? Things weren’t supposed to be like this. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen. Ever.

Her hands didn’t make it past his chest, where they now lay uselessly, fisted, but not doing anything. Just like she was. Just not…doing anything, because she wasn’t kissing him back…she couldn’t. But she couldn’t bring herself to push him away. This was Sirius, and she just…couldn’t. And he was being slightly hesitant, as if scared, and it broke her heart all over again, knowing that he was putting himself on the line. That single thought was enough to make her relax even more in his grasp, and without thinking a small sigh escaped her. It felt so good to be wanted. Because he wanted her and he was proving it. And this wasn’t a substitution of any sorts. It was about losing grip of what you were doing, just as she had lost her own grip on herself just a couple of minutes ago, and everything was spiraling out of control so eloquently, there was no other way to put it. Closing her eyes tightly, as if she was battling something immense, her fingers grasped angrily at the front of his robes as for a moment, she kissed him back. She kissed him back with all the pent-up feelings she was feeling at the moment. Feelings that were oh, so intricate and she couldn’t even begin to explain. Feelings that weren’t directed at him. Feelings that weren’t even close to grazing him. But what else was there to do? What else was there to show? What else was there to act upon? He said he loved her and he was showing it the way it was supposed to be shown, damn it. Not how James had done it…by walking away.

And there it was again, damn it.

James

[Marlene McKinnon]

Okay, so -ROFLMFAO-

Ahem:

""Pretty boy, hugh?" He laughed. He knew that what he was going to say next was not going to be pretty. That was why right when they turned their pretty little heads, he tore off his jean jacket, baring his chest. "Alright, you little princess'. Who's first to get a piece of Isaac?" He was in the air before any of them turned their heads, and once they did, he saw each of their expressions drop. His chest was a magnet. A chick magnent. A gaze magnent. A sex magnent. He laughed at their faces and took off around the pitch. He looped around twice and found one side of the pitch. Slickly, he pulled out his wand and summoned the ball trunk from the pitches shed. He unlocked it from the air, and one bludger flew out, along with the quaffle. The quaffle zoomed into the air, and out above the clouds."


DOOD! BIRD! OMGOSH, bahaha, that was just...seriously, man, that was priceless! It was so arrogant, so freaking adorable in this Slytherin-y way and so damn cocky I just loved it! Not to mention it kinda made me want to spit out water and laugh until my sides hurt. So yeaah. Kudos, dude. Isaac is totes one of a kind.

[liluraliridon]

From Hogsmeade Weekend:

Milo's left hand crept up to his neck and reached inside his shirt, his fingertips brushing the small silver crucifix he kept hidden beneath his clothes. God give him-

"Crucio!"

Strength, whatever he had left, left his body in a scream.

"Crucio!"

God wouldn't let this happen. There was no way. God didn't-

"Crucio!"

-exist.

Safety was something Milo had never truly considered and he never realised how much he'd taken it for granted. Tears stung his eyes and rolled down his cheeks as his entire body shook, his knees finally failing him as he went down. Students were still fleeing all around him and he eyed them vacantly, a hollow feeling beginning to take over within his body. He released the cross. It was just an object. It had no magical ability -

Magical ability. Like the wand in his hand, like the reason he was in Hogsmeade in the first place. His throat was raw from the screaming he hadn't even heard himself doing, but he tried anyway. Milo lifted his wand, his unfocusing vision seeing two of the black-cloaked figure that was casting at him. His voice cracked, but he chose one of the figures and hoped to G- he hoped it was the real one and not the illusion from the pain. All he needed to do was buy time, just to clear his head and get away. Please let me hit the right one, he begged silently, then parted his lips and cracked out,

"Impedimenta!"

I think this is an amazing moment of character development for Milo, and I didn't expect it at all. When I hit the word "exist," I just kind of froze and went "OMG!" Fantastic work, Didi! It really shows how much you've thought about your character and his motivations.

[milo]

First, I just want to say that Seraph, that about made me cry. Thank you thank you thank you.

Hah. Now for my admiration! Again, from Hogsmeade Weekend, same thread as above:

She thought for a moment about the scars this injury would leave, but she pushed that thought away; she couldn't think about much anything except for the fact that she had three gaping wounds on her torso and it was burning, searing, tingling; every tiny bit she moved, it only caused more pain. Breathing was hard; her entire body convulsed, her chest burning with every breath. Everything around her was going fuzzy; everything around her was moving so slowly but it felt like her heart was beating a million miles an hour....Why? Why did this have to happen today, why did those fucking Slytherins have to be such douchebags, why didn't she stay at the school that day, where she could be safe in her warm bed, thinking about summer and how she would so soon be with Melody on the boat, with her sisters, or at Diagon Alley with Lil ---

A final tear ran down her face, and her eyes gently closed.

Lia always had a fascination with death. It was one thing we'd never know about; scientifically, it was untouchable. We'd never know about it until we actually experienced it, and that knowledge wasn't much useful if you didn't have the body to communicate the facts to the living. People could have as many theories about it as they wanted to; re-birth, heaven, hell, purgatory, nothingness -- and that was just the most beautiful thing to Lia. In the end, where you go after death is the only thing that mattered; and that was what you lived for. Whether you lived for God, lived for a second chances, lived in the moment - it's the realization that one day, we're all going to drop dead and stop breathing, that dictates everything we do. No one could snap at you, say you're wrong, when you spoke of your theories of death. Lia was a girl of facts, valuing intelligence above nearly everything else. But that was the beautiful thing. No one knew.

And off she went, into the great unknown.

That. That whole. Gosh you made me cry. I can't even - you have no idea. Her death was so unexpected and the fact that she - that whole last paragraph, I have no real words. Just emotion. Oh Ellie gosh you cracked my soul. It was beautiful and it hurts and gah, this was amazing. Wonderful.

[liluraliridon]

*agrees with Didi*

[jules]

HOGSMEADE WEEKEND

FNHKLNF. FGKNZLH. FHXKH!!! Kiara. Holy mother of fish sticks. This. Post. Made. Me. Cry. Like, forget the fact that we all know Lily and James don't grow old together or live together forever or have more than one kid or any of that... in this post, you feel the utter desperation, fear, helplessness, vulnerability that James is feeling all at the same time. You have to empathize with him and if you don't then you at the very least have to sympathize! Really, I don't see how you couldn't because in this post you just kinda loose yourself in James's mind and are hoping and praying and cheering for Lily to breathe along with him the entire way... It's just a deeply touching post that really moved me and I felt it was necessary to praise it here. Seriously, Kiara? This is brilliant writing. There are no words in the dictionary to convey how amazing of a writer you are. And this post is like one of the finest examples, so here it is:

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Lily.

Lily.

"Lily!"

James hadn't thought of much else when he realized exactly what was going on. He hadn't thought to stay behind and insure that Remus and Bella were safe. He hadn't thought to be the upstanding Head Boy he should have been, making sure that the younger years were tucked away someplace safe. He hadn't thought to be the brave Gryffindor that he was, remaining in his spot and fighting back. No. When James had heard that cackling, when James had tilted his face up and saw the flashes of black cloaks and silver masks, he had only considered one thought. The rest of them seemed entirely irrelevant in comparison. He had bolted away from Bella and Remus, beginning to weave his nimble body around everyone else. "Lily!" He kept calling, over and over at the top of his lungs. His voice was going to get hoarse from the usage. He didn't think about it once, let alone twice. He just kept calling her name and dodging jets of light. "LILY!" No longer Evans. No longer just his girlfriend. God, she was even more important than his own life in that moment. All he needed was to see her. Hold her. Throw her over his shoulder and sprint back to the castle, if that's what he had to do. Protect Lily. His own life meant nothing if she wasn't a part of it. It was all happening so fast, and this was coming too soon. He couldn't lose her.

Yet he couldn't find her.

"LILY!" He cried even louder, in a fit of hysterics. "LILY, PLEASE! LILY!" His hands were fisting in his hair; he was close to ripping it out of his skull. Where was she? Was she alright? "LILY!" Frantic, he kept turning his head this way and that, but he couldn't see her. He couldn't find her. He started grabbing people, then, stopping them in their retreat, stopping them in their escape. He grabbed their shoulders and shook them roughly, sticking his face in theirs and demanding to know if they had seen her. Where was she? Why couldn't he find her. He needed to find her. "LILY!"

This was getting him no where. He took his wand and breathed out, "Point me." And it pointed... up? Immediately, his head went up toward the sky, but there were only cloaked figures on broomsticks; he caught no sight of red hair. Grabbing his wand again, he quickly sent a hex up to the nearest cloaked figure he could find. "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" The figure landed on the ground with a thump. James didn't give a shit. "ACCIO BROOM!" He called again, waiting as the fake Death Eater's broom came sailing toward him. He caught it and immediately boarded it, only pausing in his movements once to kick the cloaked figure hard and in the kidneys. Just because he probably deserved it. Pushing off, he immediately began scanning the areas. Where was she? Where was Lily? "LILY!" he called again, though knowing it was mostly futile. He needed to find her. He needed to find her-- was that red hair? He turned on his broom, throwing a punch to someone who was flying much too close. Yes, that was red hair. Red hair and-- red face-- she was-- "NO!" Hysterical, he nearly jumped off of the broom when he got close enough, rolling onto the roof and not bothering to wince when he landed awkwardly on his ankle. Lily was suffocating. Lily was being choked by ropes, and, "No, no, no!" He crawled to her, wrenching out his wand and undoing the ropes as quickly as he could, dropping his wand to the side and pawing the ropes off of her. His own safety wasn't a thought. Nothing was a coherent thought. He grabbed Lily's face in both hands, "Breathe, Lily, please-- breathe!" Her eyes were closed. She wasn't breathing. "No, Lily, no, breathe! Breathe, Lily, please... please, no, Lily..." He was tapping her face, then, setting her reverently back against the top, leaning his head down and pressing it to her chest. Heartbeat. She was alive. He momentarily rejoiced until he realized she still wasn't breathing. Wasn't breathing and he could barely feel her pulse. She wasn't dead but she was dying. No. No! "NO!" He tilted her head back and did the only thing that made sense. He crashed their lips together, pushing his air into her lungs. He needed to save her. He just had her. He just managed to tell her he loved her. He couldn't imagine this world without her. He didn't want to. She had to live. She had to breathe. "Please, Lily, breathe. Breathe for me, love, please..." Her face was wet-- was she crying? He touched her cheeks, faintly warm but not the healthy blush he loved. Not the beautiful pink that he adored. No, she wasn't crying. He brought the hands to his own face, stunned that he was crying. He brought his head back down, pressing their lips together again. Softly. Finally. With one last push, he breathed into Lily Evans again and sat back, gently holding her hand and hoping it worked. He needed it to work. He needed her there. To yell at him. To tell him he's stupid. To disapprove of his pranks. To shake her head at his antics. To love him. He needed her there to love him because he loved her so much that it hurt. It hurt him. "I love you, Lily Evans, please. Please." He needed her to live so that he could spend the rest of his life with her. To marry her and have awkward-looking babies with red hair and hazel eyes and lots of freckles. He touched her cheeks again, wanting to smile at the dusting of freckles he found, but couldn't bring his lips to move upward. Instead, they just kept moving, whispering his silent prayer to whoever was listening. "Please, Lily. I love you. Breathe, Lily. Please." He wanted to grow old with her so that she could yell at their kids when they did stupid stuff in school like he did. So he could spoil their first daughter and she could coddle their first son. So they could argue over names and the colors they painted the walls in their house and if they could get a dog and just... argue. God, he wanted nothing more than for her to wake up from this-- this hell and look him square in the eye and tell him he was doing it wrong. He just wanted one more glimpse into those beautiful green eyes. "Please, Lily. Please."

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[liluraliridon]

From Hogsmeade Weekend:

He tilted her head back and did the only thing that made sense. He crashed their lips together, pushing his air into her lungs. He needed to save her. He just had her. He just managed to tell her he loved her. He couldn't imagine this world without her. He didn't want to. She had to live. She had to breathe. "Please, Lily, breathe. Breathe for me, love, please..." Her face was wet-- was she crying? He touched her cheeks, faintly warm but not the healthy blush he loved. Not the beautiful pink that he adored. No, she wasn't crying. He brought the hands to his own face, stunned that he was crying. He brought his head back down, pressing their lips together again. Softly. Finally. With one last push, he breathed into Lily Evans again and sat back, gently holding her hand and hoping it worked. He needed it to work. He needed her there. To yell at him. To tell him he's stupid. To disapprove of his pranks. To shake her head at his antics. To love him. He needed her there to love him because he loved her so much that it hurt. It hurt him. "I love you, Lily Evans, please. Please." He needed her to live so that he could spend the rest of his life with her. To marry her and have awkward-looking babies with red hair and hazel eyes and lots of freckles. He touched her cheeks again, wanting to smile at the dusting of freckles he found, but couldn't bring his lips to move upward. Instead, they just kept moving, whispering his silent prayer to whoever was listening. "Please, Lily. I love you. Breathe, Lily. Please." He wanted to grow old with her so that she could yell at their kids when they did stupid stuff in school like he did. So he could spoil their first daughter and she could coddle their first son. So they could argue over names and the colors they painted the walls in their house and if they could get a dog and just... argue. God, he wanted nothing more than for her to wake up from this-- this hell and look him square in the eye and tell him he was doing it wrong. He just wanted one more glimpse into those beautiful green eyes. "Please, Lily. Please."

LOL, Fief beat me to it, but I'll just admire it anyway. I luff this post, Kiara. It's just so heartwarming when James imagines his future with Lily, and so heartbreaking when he's terrified that it might not happen!

From Hogsmeade Weekend:

The world had gone mad.

Or that was how it seemed, anyway. A completely tranquil day had suddenly been turned upside down when a carriage suddenly burst into flames. Lily's quick eyes immediately darted to the sky and her heart leaped to her throat, her blood freezing in her veins. Sh*t. Not now. Not today. She knew what was going on. Of course she knew. They were being attacked. Somehow, they'd all seen this coming. They'd ignored it, but they'd seen it coming. Hadn't she and Remus talked about this before? There was something wrong with the world. Everything wasn't fine and dandy. There had already been three deaths. Of course a big bang would happen before graduation. A reminder for them that the real world they were going into wasn't as beautiful and safe as they thought it was. It wasn't-

BANG!

Lily felt herself being tossed back like a rag doll by the force of the explosion and she skittered over some stones, shards of glass flying everywhere so that she automatically raise her hands in front of her face to protect herself, feeling little pieces sinking into her skin. The shock rocked her to the very core so that she could only sit, completely stunned. And then her brain finally caught up again and she scrambled to her feet, brushing off the glass and flinching. Small rivulets of blood were running down her arms, but there was no time to heal herself. They were minor injuries anyway. Instead, she whisked out her wand because the cloaked figures (Death Eaters? Students?) were landing and she had to stop them. She was Head Girl she had to protect them. There were people who were only thirteen and fourteen that couldn't protect themselves. "Petrificus Totalus*!"

[/color] she exclaimed, pointing her wand towards the nearest attacker. "Impedimenta!"[/color] she added quickly, in case the first spell was deflected, because lord knows these guys were for real. She could smell the smoke and a shiver ran through her when she realised that flames had leaped to life and was surrounding them. Trapped. They were trapped. She was faintly aware of Professor McGonnogall's voice calling the students to safety, but she ignored it. She wasn't about to run off when everyone else was in danger. God, where was Livy? James? Remus? Alice - had she even come? God, she hoped she hadn't.[/blockquote]

Jooj, I thought it was really great that you thought about Lily's personality and how she'd want to protect everyone. I love that you really brought out that responsible part of her personallity.[/blockquote]

[Andromeda Black]

Massive post of admiration? Heck yes. Not only could I go on and on forever about how proud I am of how amaazingly well the Hogsmeade thread is going activity-wise but duuuude! The TALENT! Sooo many of these posts have made my eyes bug out or made me tear up or just feel so emotional and I figured here would be the perfect place to dole out all the necessary congratulations.

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NARCISSA BLACK (Page 3)

Can I saw W-O-W. This post was so flawlessly in-character and showed off just how perfectly Skar plays Cissa. Every detail was perfectly constructed and it provided more of that insight into Cissa's mind that we all can't get enough of. Her motivation and excitement were described so brilliantly, you just couldn't help but get excited with her. It's Narcissa Black, after all, in some of her most wicked years. And that's captured stunningly in the below post.

ashes, ashes



we all fall
d
o
w
n

The planning. The time spent. The ideas. The meetings. The smiles and the knowing looks as everyone seemed so buzzed and excited for the last Hogsmeade weekend. Everyone wanted the event to happen already. Everyone wanted it. Perhaps not for the same reasons as each other, but they all had one common goal: Hogsmeade. Some, to enjoy it. Others, to ravish it. And ravish it they would. The smoke, the taste of fear…Narcissa was already halfway up her thrill, and things hadn’t even started yet. The exhilaration of the wait, the reward of patience. It was going to happen in a couple of hours away from the present moment, and there wasn’t anything that could stop it. Together, they were all unstoppable, weren’t they? Never mind their ages, never mind their differences. In the end, everyone had the same goal. The same goal with different abilities to place in the cooperation of reaching said goal. As she paced her bedroom, her summer cloak billowing behind her, Narcissa sometimes paused to look out the window. Things had been reviewed countless of times. Plans had been ascertained time and time again, and even her, in her controlling nature had to admit there was no flaw in this. How could there be when someone like their Dark Lord was behind it? For reasons like these, Narcissa was reminded why she believed in the cause she followed. That, and the opportunity to prove herself time and time again. Fingering the cold vial that was safely pocketed inside her cloak, Narcissa smiled in a feral manner as she stared out the window. Yes, the opportunities to prove herself were infinite. What was even better was knowing that she was not going to disappoint. Not with this. Fingers tapping against the window sill to signal her impatience, she waited for any indication that it was time. Things would go smoothly. Everything so far had given those indications. The easy lie to excuse themselves out of the castle and the trip, the unsuspicious approval of that old headmaster…it was too flawless to begin to conceive, but it was happening, and it was going to happen today. There was nothing wrong. The only thing one could put a finger on would be the immediate suspicions cast their way once the deed was done and taken care of, but allies, witnesses and backups were all handy and willing.

Everything for the cause.

Smiling sardonically as she caught sight of her reflection in her mirror, Narcissa grabbed the silver plated mask that lay innocently on top of her vanity and exited the room. There were indications of noise and arrivals downstairs, and right now, in their world, it could only mean one thing. Exiting her bedroom quietly, she firmly shut the door behind her and went down the regal staircase. The faces she would meet there were as familiar to her as the moon was associated to the night, but truth be told, tonight it was going to be more than that. They were going to stop being acquaintances and friends to become accomplices. Normally, there was no such thing as having each other’s back on a daily basis, but tonight. Tonight rules didn’t exist in any sense, and as Narcissa entered the room, she couldn’t hold back the smile that had been threatening to engulf her lips ever since earlier that morning. The stretch of the lips, more than joyful or a reflection of happiness was threatening and wolfish. Tonight was a night for the release of the instincts that not all of them got to enjoy in their typical routines, and for once, Narcissa craved it. It seemed too long ago since that fateful day when they had all cooperated to end one Professor’s life, and that night at the Shrieking Shack with Rab…they were all distant memories that were dislocated and blurred. Emotions had run high on both of those occasions, and perfect recollection of the exact events was impossible. Every time she tried to bring those to mind, all she recalled were the feelings and thrills she’d experimented. Not what she had done, said or thought, but how her wand felt beneath her fingertips, the taste of fear in the air, and then the smell of triumph—victory. Nothing could override that. So as she stared at her sister—the one she’d vowed to disdain in face of her easy acceptance of Andromeda not so long ago—and the other occupants of the room, she didn’t think or act. She simply felt. Instincts were starting to override her, and while her controlling aspect was not altogether okay with that, she knew she could trust herself. Instincts…instincts never failed. It was the human body that did, and Narcissa just happened to know herself all too well.

“After you,” Narcissa said easily to Lucius as she surveyed the rest of her companions. Bellatrix, Evan, Regulus, Aceline…the list would go on and on, she knew. Andromeda she didn’t even deign to look at. She was not worthy of being there in any sense. She had not won her place in this. But that didn’t matter. Nothing did except the now. They were all ready, all waiting, all anticipating. It was such a sweet game, the one they played, and tonight they would finally reach the climax of all this waiting. There was movement in the room as Bellatrix’s words seemed to spurn them into action, and make them realize that yes, indeed, it was time. As she walked behind Lucius, looking at his shoulders and thinking about how all of this was going to happen, and how they had talked about it during intervals of their time together…it all seemed so surreal. But there wasn’t much time to think about what was real and what wasn’t, because there were things to do, a place to go. And soon, all of them were airborne, and she was glad for the concealment the hood of her cloak gave to her face from the wind and the rest of prying eyes as she pulled up beside him. She didn’t have to say anything to him. That was one of the things she liked best of Lucius. Always had, always would. Sometimes, words weren’t necessary. She did have to stop herself from reaching out to him when he concernedly muttered something to her, and satisfy herself with a simple nod in his direction.

Yes, words weren’t necessary to explain just how they worked.

Maybe it was the anticipation and the weird thrum of excitement through her veins, or maybe it was the strange quality of unreality that had settled over her, but they had arrived before long. The carriages were visible, and the dark dots that were the students started becoming bigger and bigger, until they almost seemed to be at arms’ reach, and swiftly, Narcissa covered her face with her silver mask and descended, the dots that had been students hovering around almost empty carriages becoming recognizable faces, and as Evan caught her eye and Trix’s cackle echoed in the suddenly quiet atmosphere, Narcissa knew that tonight was going to be the last calm anyone was ever going to experience. True to her word, shouts were heard as soon as the first curses started to shower, and the terrified expressions of the people as they finally caught on to what was going on was enough to make her throw her head back and laugh. Her right hand was already reaching inside her cloak and coming up with crystalline vials filled to the very brim of a clear liquid which she wasted no time in smashing against the ground as she started circling the carriages. Upon the impact against the floor, roaring flames emerged from where it had crashed, and Narcissa dedicated herself to surrounding the carriages to impede any type of escape. It was going to be a damn storm, and there was nothing the Professors could do to stop it. Helpless. That was how they were all going to be after they were done.

Vial after vial she threw with impeccable aim at the floor, her cloak sometimes skimming the floor due to the low altitude of her broom, but that was just the way she wanted it. She wanted to be close enough to feel the fear, the panic that was starting to come off them in sweet wafts of echoing shrieks. Colorful and sublime, there was no other way to describe it. That, and the chemical scent of the Freedom Fire potion Severus and her had concocted made her shiver. This was all just starting. Soon, she had surrounded the carriages and trapped all of them successfully in a wide circle, safe in the knowledge that the fire from her potion was not going to run out or be quenched by ridiculous charms. This…this was the product of arduous work. Of months of research and trial and error…

This was the night to be free.

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JACK SPARROW (Page 4)

Okay. Seriously. Anyone who wasn't moved by this post.... Areyoumadeoutofstone? Like really. Besides the fact that it would an impossibility of nature to not love Jack Sparrow, this post is just so.... like awwwwww. Even though Khai hasn't given him any reason to, he still saves her when he sees her trapped. He picks her up and carries her off. How sweeeeet of him is that? And oh but that's not all! Why does he do this again? Why does he save Khai instead of acting like normal and just getting himself out of there? BECAUSE HE STILL LOOOOVES HER.

Say it with me, everyone?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww <3333333

The bickering with Fontaine had gotten old after just a few short minutes, and Dars seemed to be growing restless on his lap. They clambored out of their carriage to join the rest of the crowd, half-listening to McGonagall's speech with the rest of them. Jack had been twirling a strand of Dars' hair in his fingers, grinning at the softness and trying not to look to eager to continue touching her. Luckily for him she seemed rather clueless, though he was sure this could be rather unlucky for him, too. Would it kill him to tell her? No, but it would definitely destroy his pride. He sighed as McGonagall finished, turning to Dars."Hey, love, I promised I'd take Fontaine to see the candy store. Can I meet you at the Three Broomsticks later? Anything you want, my treat." Alcohol. Probably not Dars' choice drug-- she much preferred the hallucinagens, Jack had discovered --but it would do in a pinch when he needed it to. All the same, she was content in letting him go off with some other girl with the promise of some booze in the future. Easy. He turned to his companion who was staring at him like she knew something he should, and he immediately frowned. Right as he was opening his mouth to say something really rude and snarky, the first explosion occurred. On instinct, he ducked his head and turned. "Motherfuc--" then there was another one, and fuckitalltopieces, his asshole house-mates decided to pay a visit. Frowning, he turned to Fontaine, about to tell her to run and hide to discover that she was already gone, the stolen purse discarded in her wake. He nearly-smirked at her obviously-good instincts. If anything, that girl was smart. Shaking his head, he turned around, gathering his surroundings. Survival. One of the many things his parents had taught him. How to get out of tough situations, and how to avoid getting caught. This time, he just had to avoid getting killed.

Simple enough, really.

He immediately dove behind another carriage, taking refuge there as he considered his surroundings. Probably his best means of escape would be to go into the little town and seek refuge in one of the buildings. Well, 'cept they seemed to be blowing them up. Still, Jack knew the ins and outs and all the hidden passageways in the alleys; he could start there and possibly find one that wasn't blocked off. He checked himself again before moving, his wand at the ready and his body low to the ground. Keep low and away from eye-level. If he wasn't so keyed up, he'd probably smile at the memories hititng him. Always look behind you before looking in front. He was constantly checking his surroundings, making sure no one with a fucking mask was going to suddenly apparate on his knees and tear off his arms. Or whateverthehell they do. The final rule was easy. Know when to hold your ground, and know when to run away. Now seemed like the best time and chance he'd get to run. So he did, taking off down the main road, tossing jinxes and hexes over his shoulder, positive that half of them were probably fake. He couldn't tell sometimes. There was wreckage everywhere, but so far no bodies. That was a good sign-- wait, there was one. Trapped underneath a stone, the poor bast-- no, it was a girl-- "Holy fuck." It was Khai. Khai fucking Statton had one of her leg's caught underneath a large portion of what used to be a shop's wall. He was almost caught up to her then, faced with a rather awkward decision. Did he practice what he knew? Did he forget about everyone else and only care about himself, leaving Khai there to fend for herself while he sought out refuge? Or did he finally just suck it up and be... normal. Nice. A decent human being? She was going to slow him down. He loved her once. She could possibly get him killed. He loved her once. She would probably survive on her own.

He loves her, still.

Cursing his life he slowed down as he reached her, sliding down and huddling beside her. "Calm down, Statton, I'm going to get you out." He quickly told her, turning around one more time to get some sort of a bearing on his surroundings, looking up at the flying black figures. His usual quick reflexes were somewhat delayed then, having been distracted by saving his once-lover. She hadn't even been his girlfriend. Oh, whatever. Now was not the time to argue over particulars. At any rate, he was about to cast a shielding charm when another spell hit him square in the chest, sending him flying. He crashed into a shop wall, slamming his shoulder back into the bricks. He cried out, pushing himself away as best as he could, raising his wand and sending a rather nasty tripping hex at his attacker; hoping that it hit just so that the asshole would fall off his fucking broom. Cowards. Couldn't even begin to fight fair. He brought his good hand up, gently touching his shoulder. Dislocated. Fan-fucking-tastic. Grimacing, he moved back over to Khai. "It's going to be okay, Khai, I promise," he said a little softer, grimacing again. "Let me set my shoulder, okay? I'm going to get you out." Then he lifted his bad arm, placing his hand flat against the rock and with his good hand, he placed it on his shoulder and with a quick jerk it snapped. Not entirely back into place, but well enough that he could carry Khai and that he'd survive until he could get Madam Pomphrey to do it properly. "Wingardium leviosa." He picked the rock up and, with a little vindictive strike, he cast it away with a larger spell, letting it shatter and scatter amongst the assholes who were causing all the trouble. He looked down at her leg, wincing at the sight. He couldn't do much to help her right then and there. Episky couldn't fix that sucker if he said the spell a million times. Sighing, he moved closer, tucking his wand behind his ear for a moment. "Khai. I'm going to have to carry you," he said softly, not really looking her in the eye. "Wrap your arms around my neck, I'll try to be as gentle as I can." He gently wrapped an arm underneath her legs, mindful of the injury. His other arm braced her back as he gently swept her up. "I'm going to get you to the Hospital Wing, Khai. Just do me one favor." He finally turned to look at her, taking a deep breath and considering her quite seriously.

"For once in your life, keep your fucking mouth shut and don't you dare give me shit for this."

[/b][/center]

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PRISCILLA PRYCE (Page 4)

Okay I know what you're all thinking: Biased much? Umtotally. But who cares, bias or not, it was still an awesome post. Without doubt. Prissy's just such amazing, well-developed character and this post was definitely a big moment of change for her (<333). Not only does it separate her from her fellow Slytherins in that she's not with them going around causing chaos but it shows her finally just acting without thinking it over which is a pretty big moment for her. And the fact that she gets all worried about Niko and rushes without a moment of doubt to go save him and is so worried and adorable about it? Definitely not hindering how much Kabby loved this post. But then we also see her Crucio Lil, another really defining moment that shows us what she's capable of and reminds us that she is a Slytherin, and one of the darker ones.

you say too late to stop with your heart in a headlock,



you know you’re b e t t e r than this

Priscilla did so hate confrontation. Of any kind, really. It didn’t matter. And here she was, thinking this was just going to be another boring Hogsmeade trip where she went with Kitty to the Three Broomsticks and watched from the corner as Kitty chatted it up with her guy friends, leaving Prissy to sit and absentmindedly sip at her butterbeer. Yeah, well, that surely wasn’t happening this Hogsmeade trip, Priscilla thought with chagrin as she watched the scene unfold around her, heart rate increasing. She met eyes with Kitty nervously and then continued to peer out the window, eyeing the darkly-clad, masked figures zooming through the sky and wreaking havoc in their wake. Instantly, one person came to Priscilla’s mind: Cissa. She was there, wasn’t she? Priscilla didn’t know for sure, but she highly suspected it. The thought made her nearly sick to her stomach, knowing her best friend was out there in the heat of the battle with no more than capes and a mask to guard her small body. Sure, Narcissa knew how to take care of herself. But that didn’t change the fact that Prissy was worried. Super worried. Knot-in-your-stomach kind of worried. Biting on her lower lip and straightening her glasses, a nervous habit of hers, Priscilla continued to survey the scene through her window, not moving a muscle, trying, in vain, to seek out the small, lithe, female figure of her friend. To ensure her safety, if for nothing else. However, Priscilla’s search was cut short as she felt a resounding bang shake the carriage, causing it to topple over and crumble to the side. Thankfully, she was not completely crushed, but Priscilla instantly thought of her bones and, before moving, made a self-check that she could still move each one of them. Finding that she could, despite some extremely tender spots, she began to try and wriggle out of the wreckage. It was when she’d gotten about half of herself out that she locked eyes with a masked figure and froze. It was a Death Eater. And he was staring right at her. Breath bated, Priscilla did not dare move until he turned away. If he turned away. In all actuality, Priscilla thought she was going to die. That he was going to blast her with some Unforgivable Curse and she would be done for. But, much to her surprise, the figure merely chucked – was that a chuckle? – and sped away, leaving Priscilla amidst the wreckage. She was still numbed for a few minutes, shocked, horrified, relieved that she was still alive. Why didn’t he attack her, she wondered? Well, she wasn’t one to question fate. Egged on by the screams of terror intermingling with the cackling of the Death Eaters, Priscilla pulled the rest of herself from underneath the carriage and stood, dusting herself off. She wasn’t horribly wounded but she wasn’t in the best condition either – the choice of outfit, particularly the shoes, had not been meant for battle. But, having steadied herself, she glanced around the area, searching for something. Anyone. She didn’t know what. She saw Professor Sinistra and McGonagall yelping and crying out at their students, and Priscilla decided that if anyone knew what to do it would certainly not be those bumbling fools. She grabbed her wand and held it at the ready as she began to walk through the debris, watching her step. There was glass everywhere, blood interspersed here and there, and Priscilla did not want to risk stepping in it. She was hunched over, deft, quick as could be, as she didn’t want to attract attention from the spinning Death Eaters above, and made it to a space between two buildings, where she took momentary refuge. From this vantage she could see much more, including... what was that? Was that...? The Liridon girl? And Fletcher? They were running toward Prissy, though they didn’t know it, and... the Liridon girl had stopped, had a strange look come over her, and raised her wand against Fletcher.

In that instant, everything changed.

Prissy didn’t know what spell that bitch sent at Niko, nor did she care. She did not know what to do. She did not know what had happened. But she saw Niko go crashing to the ground, painfully, and something inside of her snapped. She couldn’t rightly recognize it, but it was there. It was stronger than the worry she felt for Narcissa. It was stronger than anything she’d ever felt before. A dull lurch in her chest, a wiggly feeling in her throat, a tingling numbness in her knees... she felt like she was going to vomit, cry, and scream all at the same time. Niko... was hurt. So why did that hurt her? She wasn’t thinking, she was hardly breathing... she felt as though the world had stopped and it was just she, Niko, and Lilura suspended in time, staring at one another. Niko was on the ground, wincing in pain, and it was Lilura’s fault. Priscilla didn’t know what force carried her anymore, what had happened. The world seemed to move at warp speed around her all of a sudden, blurring her vision, searing up her spine. “NIKO!” she screamed, her lungs nearly splitting from the effort. She was running now, she didn’t know why, but she was. She’d stopped right behind Niko and stared menacingly at Lilura, a few paces from her. Anger coursed through her veins, dominating everthing. That bitch. That bitch had tried to rob her of her friend, of the only person who made her feel good about herself, who never wanted her to change. Nikolas. Oh, Merlin, NIKOLAS. She thought, balling her fingers into fists. That horrible, disgusting little shrew! How dare she? How dare she? “YOU BITCH!” Priscilla cried, no longer able to control herself. Her emotions had free reign. She locked eyes with Lilura, raised her wand, and said, her voice dripping with venom, “Crucio.”*

[/b]A jet of light spilled out of Priscilla’s wand and hit Lilura square in the chest, knocking her over onto the ground. What had she just done? Priscilla thought, fingers shaking so much she almost dropped her wand. She had just... she had just... What had she just done? As the spell began to take affect, Priscilla shooed away her thoughts. focusing instead on Fletcher, kneeling down by him and staring at his foot, which was apparently causing him pain judging by the way he was grasping it. She was on auto-pilot, she wasn’t thinking... nothing was right.[/color] “Episkey,” she whispered, hovering her wand over his leg. She didn’t know if that would help or make it worse, but either way they were running out of time to escape the blonde-haired bitch, who seemed to be just waking up from her little joy ride. Priscilla removed herself from Niko and went over to Lilura, knelt beside her, and muttered “Obliviate.” She didn’t want her to remember that it was Priscilla who had shot her with a curse than could land her in Azkaban. That taken care of, Priscilla went to Niko, used an innervate spell to erase the stupefying one, and asked, faintly, “Are you all right?” She had used an Unforgivable Curse to save him. She had... saved him. Oh, fuck.

This was not going as planned.[/blockquote]

- - -

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OLIVIA THOMPSON (and EVAN ROSIER) (Page 5)

Duuuuuude. WOW. First Killing Curse to be used. Like, ever, I think? So as if that's not huge enough, Jooj also pulls it off amazingly. I think my jaw dropped when Evan oh-so-perfectly delivered his line and the curse, not only because the drawl was so casually in-character but because it was just... huge. Perfect. Again: WOW. Livy's reaction perfectly shows how shocked and horrible she feels and evokes sympathy automatically even as we're still recoiling from the shock of the fact that Evan has just killed someone and done so seemingly without a second though. And yet the best part? Even though it seems that way, it's nothing like a cliché of a Slytherin that doesn't give a damn. Even though the post is all Livy's perspective, Evan still remains perfectly realistic and in-character. His one line there says it all. Jooj, I applaud you. Intensely.

She could die today. She could die today, even though she had done practically nothing of importance. She could die today. The realisation hit her so suddenly that it rocked her and she felt her vision become blurred for an entirely different reason as she felt the fingers tighten cruelly around her fragile throat. She made an odd choking noise - something akin to a sob, although it didn't sound like it. Her fingers clutched desperately at the hands that were strangling her, trying to pull them off, but he (must be a he, but it didn't matter did it?) was too strong for her. Or maybe she was just too weak. She could feel it; the blood just wasn't getting to her head correctly, not enough oxygen was passing through her veins. It wouldn't be long now, she found herself thinking morbidly, already losing hope. Because, really, who would stop long enough to notice that she was dying? Everyone was caught up in their own problems. What was so special about her? Nothing, that's what. Olivia felt her eyes start to roll to the back of her head and she knew she was going to pass out soon. Maybe that was better. Maybe if she died while she was unconscious, it would hurt less. Did dying hurt? Or was it just this part? She was in such a strange mood, too. Almost as if she had accepted it now, because it looked like it was inevitable. Her loud mouth had gotten her into trouble again, and she was finally suffering the consequences of it. She would have never imagined that it might lead her to her death once. Was that it, then? She closed her eyes slowly, as if accepting her fate as she felt herself begin to slip into unconsciousness...

And then she could suddenly breathe again.

Livy crumpled to the ground as soon as her attacker let her go, gasping for air, oxygen rushing into her lungs once more, warming her blood. Sweet, sweet oxygen. Air had never tasted better, even though this air was tainted with the thick smell of smoke. She coughed and spluttered, her hand flying to her sore throat. She didn't have to look in a mirror to know she had bruises, but that didn't matter. She was alive. She was breathing. She hadn't died. It was almost too much for her, and she lifted her face as she heard her name being called, unaware of the tears rolling down her cheeks - a mixture of shock and complete and utter joy that she was alive. "Jackie!" she tried to say, but it came out more of a hoarse croak, her throat was just too raw. She rubbed her fingers against the sore skin, flinching a little, and then stared at Jackie, almost not believing that she was here. She had never been happier to see anyone in her life. Jackie had saved her. She'd saved her life. Olivia could have kissed her, she was so relieved. Instead, she simply reached out and grasped Jackie's hand tightly, trying to relay her gratitude through her eyes.

And then Jackie said they had to get out of there and her eyes widened as she shook her head. "What about...the others?"

[/color] she managed to choke out. What about Lily? And Sirius? And Marls? Bella? Remus? Caradoc? Melody? Were they okay? And what about - Oh crap he was coming back.

Olivia's eyes widened even more and she grabbed Jackie's hand harder when she saw her attacker step out of the rubble that had been the shop (well, more like limp. Jackie had obviously done some damage). He looked at her for a moment, and for a whole second they locked eyes and then he drew his wand and she sucked in a sharp breath, but then he turned around and her heart dropped to her stomach because she knew what was going to happen before he had said the words and her heart clenched in fear.

"Hey Blake? Avada Kedavra, you f*cking bastard."[/color]

There was a flash of green and Olivia moaned out a soft no as it hit this Blake fellow. He completely froze for a moment and all she could do was stare at his face, watching the light die in his eyes. She had never seen anyone die before. For some reason, she felt it was her fault. Her eyes snapped towards the attacker, but he was gone already. "O-okay, l-lets go now p-please,"[/color] Olivia whispered, her voice small and stunned. Even as she said this, her eyes returned to the body and she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from him. He was dead. He was just...dead. One second he had been alive (well, barely, he'd seemed to be in a lot of pain), and then the next he was just...dead. And other than the vacant eyes, there was no sign of it either. No blood, nothing. Just an empty shell. Olivia felt cold and she began shivering, even though the flames provided more than enough heat. She wanted to look away, she really, really wanted to look away, but her eyes were just glued to the body, even though her head screamed at her to look away, she couldn't, she just couldn't because he was dead. This guy, this Andrew Blake (she was pretty sure that was his full name) fellow who could have been a friend of hers if they'd had enough time, whom she could have gotten to know better, was dead. Gone. Just like that.

And if Jackie hadn't intervened, it could have been her, too. Or perhaps it would've been her instead of him. Was Andrew dead because of her?

God, she hoped not.

She blanched and finally managed to look away, getting up on shaky legs with determination. It couldn't be her fault. It just couldn't be. Whoever he was had been planning to kill him anyway. She got lucky. She survived. Maybe whoever it was hadn't meant to kill her in the first place, and she'd just egged him on and - yes. Yes. It wasn't her fault. It couldn't be. She was still shaking, but she tried to hide it. Or at least pass it off as after-effects. Which it was, technically. She swallowed thickly as she looked at her friend. "We should get out of here before that-"[/color] she swallowed again, flinching. Bastard. A**hole. Prick. Whoever you are, I hope you rot in hell. "-before he comes back."[/color]

She was done being the stupidly brave Gryffindor. Now she was going to - oh-so-bravely - escape with Jackie. And live.

Bravery was overrated anyway.[/blockquote][/color]

AND KABBY TOTALLY HAD MORE TO ADMIRE BUT SHE HAS TO GO TO BED -sulks-

Part Two coming tomorrow? XDDDDD
[/color][/blockquote]

[olivia]

Okay so I'm pretty much gonna be repeating some of what people said before, but idc. I had to do it.

First up: Kiara's post as James. We all know I love James. Who doesn't love James? No one, that's who. But what I love especially? Kiara's posts as James. Every single one is amazing in their own way, and this one? This one is just awesome. Completely. Utterly. Fantastic. Just read it, goshdarnit! It's the whole post, but i'll post only a bit of it so this post doesn't turn out hecka long XP

This was getting him no where. He took his wand and breathed out, "Point me." And it pointed... up? Immediately, his head went up toward the sky, but there were only cloaked figures on broomsticks; he caught no sight of red hair. Grabbing his wand again, he quickly sent a hex up to the nearest cloaked figure he could find. "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" The figure landed on the ground with a thump. James didn't give a shit. "ACCIO BROOM!" He called again, waiting as the fake Death Eater's broom came sailing toward him. He caught it and immediately boarded it, only pausing in his movements once to kick the cloaked figure hard and in the kidneys. Just because he probably deserved it. Pushing off, he immediately began scanning the areas. Where was she? Where was Lily? "LILY!" he called again, though knowing it was mostly futile. He needed to find her. He needed to find her-- was that red hair? He turned on his broom, throwing a punch to someone who was flying much too close. Yes, that was red hair. Red hair and-- red face-- she was-- "NO!" Hysterical, he nearly jumped off of the broom when he got close enough, rolling onto the roof and not bothering to wince when he landed awkwardly on his ankle. Lily was suffocating. Lily was being choked by ropes, and, "No, no, no!" He crawled to her, wrenching out his wand and undoing the ropes as quickly as he could, dropping his wand to the side and pawing the ropes off of her. His own safety wasn't a thought. Nothing was a coherent thought. He grabbed Lily's face in both hands, "Breathe, Lily, please-- breathe!" Her eyes were closed. She wasn't breathing. "No, Lily, no, breathe! Breathe, Lily, please... please, no, Lily..." He was tapping her face, then, setting her reverently back against the top, leaning his head down and pressing it to her chest. Heartbeat. She was alive. He momentarily rejoiced until he realized she still wasn't breathing. Wasn't breathing and he could barely feel her pulse. She wasn't dead but she was dying. No. No! "NO!" He tilted her head back and did the only thing that made sense. He crashed their lips together, pushing his air into her lungs. He needed to save her. He just had her. He just managed to tell her he loved her. He couldn't imagine this world without her. He didn't want to. She had to live. She had to breathe. "Please, Lily, breathe. Breathe for me, love, please..." Her face was wet-- was she crying? He touched her cheeks, faintly warm but not the healthy blush he loved. Not the beautiful pink that he adored. No, she wasn't crying. He brought the hands to his own face, stunned that he was crying. He brought his head back down, pressing their lips together again. Softly. Finally. With one last push, he breathed into Lily Evans again and sat back, gently holding her hand and hoping it worked. He needed it to work. He needed her there. To yell at him. To tell him he's stupid. To disapprove of his pranks. To shake her head at his antics. To love him. He needed her there to love him because he loved her so much that it hurt. It hurt him. "I love you, Lily Evans, please. Please." He needed her to live so that he could spend the rest of his life with her. To marry her and have awkward-looking babies with red hair and hazel eyes and lots of freckles. He touched her cheeks again, wanting to smile at the dusting of freckles he found, but couldn't bring his lips to move upward. Instead, they just kept moving, whispering his silent prayer to whoever was listening. "Please, Lily. I love you. Breathe, Lily. Please." He wanted to grow old with her so that she could yell at their kids when they did stupid stuff in school like he did. So he could spoil their first daughter and she could coddle their first son. So they could argue over names and the colors they painted the walls in their house and if they could get a dog and just... argue. God, he wanted nothing more than for her to wake up from this-- this hell and look him square in the eye and tell him he was doing it wrong. He just wanted one more glimpse into those beautiful green eyes. "Please, Lily. Please."

[/b]

Second: Oreo! Here's another amazing writer for you, lolz. I really like this part of Caradoc's post 'cause you can really, really imagine it. Caradoc being stunned by the death, and then something snapping inside of him and it's just fdshfd amazing!

Caradoc’s eyes widened in shock as the green light coursed through the boy’s body, and then dimmed to see his body grow limp like a doll and fall to the ground, never the breathe, feel or rise again. For what felt like an age, Caradoc stood there, covered in mud, blood and whatever else, with wand grasped tightly in his right hand, his hearing still muffled, and his vision still unbalanced. He could feel himself freezing again as he stared in absolute horror at the dead body lying beside Olivia and the blond girl. He was dead. He was actually dead. Doc had never seen someone die before, to see the life drain from their body. And then his mind caught up with him, and at the realisation that the poor boy hadn’t just died, but had been ruthlessly murdered, Caradoc became animated again; animated with fury, grief and vengeance. At first he screamed, screeching like some kind of wild animal, like the Scottish Picts did as they charged off to battle many centuries ago. It was a cry like Caradoc had never given before, and he soon found himself sprinting forwards and towards the black-robed figure who was now striding away from his friend and the pretty blond girl, with wand raised and face contorted with all the burning emotions which were now flowing through his body like the adrenalin which was powering him onwards.

“IMPEDIMENTA!! STUPEFY!!” he bellowed, his heart pounding thunderously in his chest, beating like a war drum to his on-coming battle.

Next up: Seraph! Lil's post when she saw Lia dying is just...omg! So saaad!! The way she tries to revive her and stuff even though she's already gone and the way she realises that she DID die when she saw the BLOOD on the end of her HAIR and just djfuhgfdfn love it!

Dimly Lilura became aware of someone screeching at her. She remained unbothered by it, happily aiming her wand at Niko again, ready to cast another spell. She wanted to attack him again, didn’t she? It was such a brilliant, fantastic idea, of course she should keep doing it! As she opened her mouth to say the next incantation, she felt something hit her in the chest, and then— Pain. Intense, searing, unimaginable pain. The cloudy feeling of relaxation fell away from Lilura’s mind as her body felt the crippling effects of the Cruciatus Curse. She fell to her knees, tears springing to her eyes from the raw pain that pierced every single part of her body, from her chest to her head, her arms, her hands, her legs, her toes… It felt like thousands of needles stabbing at her, hundreds of knives slicing at her skin, dozens of clubs smashing into her bones. Like the pain she’d felt when that troll had attacked her in the forest, only ten times worse. As the fogginess lifted from her brain, she wondered what she’d done to deserve this horrific torture. Unable to remain upright, she collapsed onto the ground. Gasping aloud, she attempted to focus her gaze onto the scene in front of her, trying to figure out what was happening. Then the pain stopped, and through her tears, she saw a blurry figure in front of her bending down over Niko’s fallen form—Niko. She’d hurt Niko. Why had she done that? She struggled to remember, but then the blurry figure came toward her, and she heard a female voice say, “Obliviate,” and then—nothing.

Lil blinked. Where was she? What was she doing on the ground? Lifting her head, she looked around, completely confused. Was she in Hogsmeade…? Why? A whooshing sound overhead caught her attention, and she looked up to see a hooded, masked figure zooming past on a broomstick. Lil coughed when the smell of smoke met her nostrils. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. She saw a number of burning buildings, scattered pieces of wooden carriages, people running and screaming… Utter chaos. She had no idea what was happening, no recollection of what she was doing or how she’d gotten here. Why couldn’t she remember? As she tried to get up, a building on her right exploded in a shower of glass and wooden splinters. Frightened, she drew her limbs closer to her body and cringed when they responded with a cramping sensation. Hoping to find someone or something to help her, she cast her gaze to the other side. Her eyes fell upon a body lying on the ground, long hair strewn in haphazard directions. Lilura knew that color, that particular shade of red that she’d admired for so long. She’d seen that hair nearly every single day since her first year at Hogwarts, and it was nearly as familiar to her as her own golden curls. “Lia!” her voice croaked. It was Lia, had to be. Lil pushed herself up with her arms, bringing her legs under her, and struggled to her feet.

As she stumbled her way toward the place where her friend was laying, Lil realized her wand was in her hand. Vaguely, her brain wondered, Why? but she didn’t stop to think about it. It was more important to get to Lia, everything else could come afterward. Kneeling next to her friend’s head, she called, “Lia?” Lia didn’t respond. Lil thought she caught a glimpse of movement from Lia’s eyelids, but she wasn’t sure. “Lia?” she ventured again, keeping her eyes trained on her friend’s face. Nothing. She was probably unconscious. Lil gripped her wand tightly and cried, “Rennervate!” Nothing happened. It should have worked. She knew it should have worked. She tried again. “Rennervate!” Her own heart beginning to beat faster, she bent over her friend’s body, trying to find a sign that she was breathing. She couldn’t find one. When she lifted her head, her long hair trailed across the ground, and she saw what she hadn’t noticed before. Slowly, with a sickening sense of dread, she let her fingers slide down the length of a lock of her hair.

The ends of her blonde curls were stained red.

Her voice starting to sound panicked, she called again, “Lia?” Then, more insistently, “Lia?” She didn’t get a response—she’d never get one from Lia again. She’d never hear her voice again, never again see those blue eyes looking at her with that caring expression she’d come to know and love—she’d never, ever talk or laugh with Lia again. Tears streaming from her eyes as the terrible realization seeped into her consciousness, Lilura bent over Lia’s perfectly still body and wept… and wept and wept.

Next: RAC as Severus! This post was amazing, but the part about Lily made me really sad ): It's so realistically Severus and I imagine that was what he would be thinking and stuff and I just love it even though it's soooo sad!

He was about to raise his wand on a particularly vulnerable looking younger year when a red flash of something caught the corner of his eye. Something seemed to snap in his brain, the corners of his emotionless lips twitched underneath the metal of his mask as he dark eyes begun to slide towards the source. A flash of red, it could have been anything. Anything, Severus agreed silently with himself as if he were already trying to talk himself out of doing something stupid. His stomach churned and an uneasiness had settled over him, where was that will power that had appeared so vibrantly clean and clear in his conscience earlier? It was gone now, it had disappeared in the blink of an eye. Yet this unsettling reaction did not have very long to sink in because at that very moment a spell backfired directly near him, Severus was quick to jump out of the way. Agitation swept over him and in all the chaos and the fear he had lost site of that red flash and those what he thought to be familiar screams. She can take care of herself, a very menacing voice in the furtherest reaches of his mind reassured him. It's Potter's job to save her now, not yours. The very thought of that name sent fire shooting down his spine, oh how he would have liked nothing more than to find James Potter and possibly curse him into insanity. The very thought of this made it easier for Severus to act on his own anger, suddenly all those thoughts of uneasiness were gone again. She never needed you in the first place, and here is living proof before you that she will never need you again because she has him. His grip on his wand tightened so that his knuckles were trying white [ almost even whiter than his actual skin tone ], gritting his teeth he suddenly looked around for his victim -- or what should have been his victim. The young student was gone, but Severus spied a few more students not far off that he could prey on.

And finally! (for now) Didi's post as Milo. OMG THAT WAS AMMMMAAAZING! The part in between the "crucio"s especially! Just awesome! I give Didi MAAAAD props for that!!

Whatever traces of laughter had been on Milo's face were gone in an instant. The smell of burning flesh was filling his nose, making him feel sick to his stomach. He licked his lips and choked back a gag before he hesitantly stepped toward the carriage door. For a second, his breath stopped in his chest and his lungs felt constricted. The feeling of dread erupted in the pit of his stomach and spread throughout him, travelling along nerve ending until it reached every inch of his body. "What the hell...?| he heard Brody ask, and Milo turned back to shake his head briefly. All he knew was that he was afraid to step out of the carriage, but he couldn't stay in there. They couldn't stay in there.

The sight that met his eyes sucked the breath from his lips. There was fire everywhere. People in black cloaks and masks were flying around on broomsticks, hexing and cursing anyone within reach. A small squeak of shock left his mouth as he saw students - gosh, his classmates! - fall victim to spells cast by the cloaked figures. Milo snapped his head to Brody, opening his mouth to say something - anything, a warning or just a rare expleative - but before he even had time to get out a syllable, he stumbled off the carriage steps and into the panicking crowd. His hand plunged into the back pocket of his jeans and gripped the handle of his wand, whipping it out in front of him protectively. "Brody!" he called, trying to look back and see if he was all right. Gosh, and Emily was with him...The crowd was just too thick, and he felt himself being dragged away like current. Milo turned to look ahead, then gasped and fell hard to his hands and knees as his foot caught on something and tripped him up. Wincing, he gritted his teeth and grasped at his wand, trying desperately hard to not allow himself to cry out as his fingers were crunched under a foot. Oh, they were definitely broken. Milo bit his lip and gripped his wand between his thumb and index finger only since they were least harmed. He ducked his head as students leapt over him and struggled to stand, glancing back briefly to see what he'd fallen over.

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. No no, that wasn't a body. That wasn't a student, that wasn't - it couldn't be - she wasn't dead, she couldn't-

Bile burned at Milo's throat, bubbling up from his stomach and making him retch and clutch at his abdomen with his good hand. He turned away, shocked at how guilty he felt for vomiting at the sight of a dead girl when it wasn't her fault, not in the least. That wasn't the right thing to be thinking about. No, he had to focus on surviving. And what about Brody? And Doc, Doc had to be there too - gosh, he'd made plans to ride the carriage with Brody and hadn't even thought of Doc, and Doc was - he didn't even know if he was all right, or if he'd even decided to come to Hogsmeade. He hoped against hope that he stayed back. Milo looked around, and prayed to God that the fact that he didn't see him meant he wasn't there to be-

"CRUCIO!"

The utter agony that tore through Milo's body was unlike anything he'd ever experienced in his life. He'd broken an arm as a kid when he fell from a tree, and he'd thought that had hurt. But oh, he would rather break both arms in seven different places all at once than to go through this. It felt as though his skeleton had been lit on fire, like needles were poking into his flesh, like every single organ inside of him was twisting around another and being pulled tight into knots. And his skull, oh his skull was going to explode. He stumbled forward, instinct alone keeping him from falling to his knees and just maintaining balance. Milo's left hand crept up to his neck and reached inside his shirt, his fingertips brushing the small silver crucifix he kept hidden beneath his clothes. God give him-

"Crucio!"

Strength, whatever he had left, left his body in a scream.

"Crucio!"

God wouldn't let this happen. There was no way. God didn't-

"Crucio!"

-exist.

Safety was something Milo had never truly considered and he never realised how much he'd taken it for granted. Tears stung his eyes and rolled down his cheeks as his entire body shook, his knees finally failing him as he went down. Students were still fleeing all around him and he eyed them vacantly, a hollow feeling beginning to take over within his body. He released the cross. It was just an object. It had no magical ability -

Magical ability. Like the wand in his hand, like the reason he was in Hogsmeade in the first place. His throat was raw from the screaming he hadn't even heard himself doing, but he tried anyway. Milo lifted his wand, his unfocusing vision seeing two of the black-cloaked figure that was casting at him. His voice cracked, but he chose one of the figures and hoped to G- he hoped it was the real one and not the illusion from the pain. All he needed to do was buy time, just to clear his head and get away. Please let me hit the right one, he begged silently, then parted his lips and cracked out,

"Impedimenta!"

Okay I'm done for now -collapses- xD XD Keep being awesome you guys![/blockquote][/color]

[jules]

FROM HOGSMEADE WEEKEND

Okay, so, Kabby dear? This post was fantastic. I mean, incredibly so. This was a huge moment of transition for Andromeda, mot likely equal to the transition she made when she told off Johnny, and it was done expertly well. Her new Death Eater persona – with the short, blond hair – is absolutely perfect and makes so much sense! Psychologically, this post was extremely in-depth and portrayed the thoughts and feelings of Andromeda in such a way that they were unforgettable. As a reader, I really sympathized with her on the point that like, she felt this was the right thing to do, to get back with her family and more 'in her element.' On the other hand, the entire time you're like OMG ANNIE NUUUU! and flailing around like a madman. But in all seriousness. Oh! And then, the parts where she was thinking about who she cut out of her old life, particularly Drake, is really heart-wrenching. Like, she can't even say his name in her thoughts anymore and gahh that's just so sad! But you know, you were able to phrase it in such a way that it really made a lot of sense and made the reader think deeply about how hard this was for Annie to leave Drake and yet how good it felt to be part of her family again. And then, in the last little section, where she's feeling a potential bout of remorse and swallows it with denial? Very realistic. I loved how she laughed after she cast the spell – takes after her sister in that regard, heehee. But yeah, overall, Kabby, this post was amazing and I love it to pieces. Oh, and the last line? Gave me chills.

This was the night.

Thee night in which Andromeda Black would prove just how much she wanted this. Her throat was dry and her stomach empty as she sat on her bed, foot tapping listlessly against the floor in a release of pent-up nerves. But no, she wasn't nervous. If she was, it was only because there was so much riding on this night. Doubtful of her abilities? Not at all. Doubtful of whether or not she would truly be able to look at her fellow students and point her wand at them? Not at all. Her jaw tightened and she got up, crossing the room to her vanity but not sitting, merely curling her fingers around the edge of the dresser and leaning forward to look at the mirror. Still, she barely recognized the girl who stared back at her. After all, there were the obvious physical differences. Her hair was no longer the familiar chocolate brown, no longer fell past her shoulders. The short blond waves - caramel, if you will - were still as foreign as if they belonged to another person entirely and yet it was a thrill of satisfaction that ran through her spine as she regarded herself, remembering that moment when she'd gone to her dormitory in such a pitiful state after the - moment of weakness, shall we call it? - in which she had nearly confided in Ted Tonks for a second time. No matter. The boy simply had a most irritating habit of being in the wrong place at the right time. Or really, the wrong time. Sniffing slightly as she decided that the latter was correct, she uncurled one hand from the lip of the dresser, bringing it up to her hair and running her fingers through it. It still felt so odd, how they slid through it so fast. So short. That was the entire point though. Something odd. Something new. So she'd been thinking when she'd went at her hair with her wand, severing many inches before she had time to reconsider and then applying a round of coloring spells and Glamours until she reached the desired effect. Short. Blond. Unfamiliar. Alien. Yes, it was perfect.

After all, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time, a new life deserved new hair. And that's exactly what she held in her hands, exactly what she was fighting for here. A new life. Dra He was gone. He was a thing of the past. The last tie that needed to be severed. And now that it was? Well, she was free, wasn't she? Free of her past, free of everyone that would have held her back from this, from tonight. This was all she had now and she'd needed that. Needed to have everything brought into such a sharp visualization. This was her life and rather than squirm around and think about what she'd given up for it, she would embrace it. She didn't want any of that anymore. She didn't want any more of D him. Or anyone else, for that matter. No matter the zombie-like state she'd been plunged into following their break-up - no matter if she was still, perhaps, in that very same state as she stared at her reflection - it had turned out to be for the better. Despite the bitter pang that couldn't quite be quenched, it was for the better. He'd only proved how much she couldn't depend on people like that. People like... everyone. Anyone. She couldn't depend on anyone if she didn't have him anymore. Except for her sister. Except for Bellatrix, the one person she'd never stopped depending on, not really. She couldn't lose her too. And she wouldn't. Because after tonight, her old life would officially be behind her. After tonight, she would only be confirmed as an entirely new Annie. No. Andromeda. Her given name, the full of it, sounded less foreign than usual and Ann Andromeda felt a fierce flash of pleasure as she realized what a good sign that was. Because she was Andromeda. 'Annie' was a thing of the past. That wasn't who she was. And in case there was any doubt left in her depths, any lingering thought that wasn't as decided as she was, she nodded firmly - childishly? - at her reflection. It was still surreal. A stranger, both in her physical and mental changes. But?

It was her.

And so spun around, her loose black dress twirling ever so slightly around her black-tights-clad legs as she did, crossing the room again back to her bed. Reaching for the mask on her pillow - a rather chilling metaphor could have perhaps been devised from its location but she ignored all such thoughts - Andromeda fingered the ornate metal briefly as she studied it for the thousandth time. No, there was no doubt at all to be found within. Shivering with excitement - and nothing but - she turned and exited the room, descending down the staircase to where a few of the others had gathered. What they thought of her, she couldn't have cared less. Except that she did care. That was the whole point of this. But not now, not when she could think of nothing but tonight and how she would prove herself to them. What they thought of her now in this precise moment didn't matter. What they thought after tonight? Yes, that was the crux of the evening. So that what they thought of her after tonight would not be the same as what they thought of her now. So that she would prove to them - and to herself? - that she belonged here. That she had no doubts in her mind. That she wasn't about to turn tail and run at the first sight of the dangerous work, of violence. Lifting her chin slightly, proudly, she couldn't help but anticipate the moment when they would leave. When they would get on their broomsticks and they would fly, and they would reach the carriages as they wound to Hogsmeade, and they would... Attack. They would attack and even though Andromeda had never done such a thing before, not of this magnitude or scale or importance or - nothing that came close - she looked forward to it with a desperate relish. Yes, she was an entirely new person. The right person. The person she should have been and was now reclaiming. The sort of person who looked forward to a night of violence and terror because they would be the one inflicting it. They would be a part of the cause of the chaos. She would be a part of the cause of the chaos. And that there, that small bit of control that she could grasp, was everything. She needed this if she was going to prove herself, yes. But it went farther than that. She wanted this - in a way that she had never quite wanted anything before.

And those were thoughts that coursed through her, filling her up, as they began to file out of the mansion. Those were the thoughts that fueled her as they got on their brooms and took off. Flying. It was such a familiar comfort - the only familiarity. But she didn't despise it in the way that she would have despised any other reminder of a life other than this one, a life outside of tonight. No, she embraced the familiarity, embraced the familiar comfort as a sign that no matter how much she'd changed, she was still herself. Merely a better version of herself. The right version of herself. Yes. It didn't seem to take them nearly as long as she might have imagined to reach their destination - or perhaps her sense of time was all but eroded by now. As they neared those little dots of carriages, they began to circle and she fell into the rhythm easily, able to feel the excitement that radiated from everyone. From herself. For it was true. If she had been falling into feelings of anticipation and eagerness to wreak such havoc, such tantalizing havoc, before when she'd been in her room, she was completely subgmerged in them now. Here was an outlet for every pent-up frustration, every bottled-up anger, every secret stowed deep at a high cost. Here was a way to put all that emotion to a better use. Here was a chance to be the person she should have been all along - and still could, still would be. And she was taking that chance. She was taking that chance and turning it into one of her wildest dreams. Pulled out of such tempting reverie by the sound of her sister's voice, she listened to Bella's speech with a growing excitement, a growing need to be down there right now. It wasn't so much the words that were important but she relished the sound of her older sister's voice, a reminder of who was in charge here. The person who'd accepted her back was in charge and there was, without a doubt, something relieving in that fact. But before she had time to worry about whether that was a good or forbidden sort of relief, everyone was ready and, sliding the mask over her face and pulling her hood up, she dove down with them. Down, down, down.

She'd flown at night before - had just flown all the way here during the night, after all - but it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to the whipping of the cool air against her cheeks that only fueled and stirred up the raging desires fighting within her. The unfamiliar and yet positively addicting emotions. The needs. There was a flash of fire on the ground, and then another, and soon enough the carriages were completely circled by growing flames. And Andromeda? As she swooped down into the mix of chaos, her wand gripped tight between her fingers, she indulged in the desires that had been battering away at her all night, the anticipation that had been building ever since she'd heard what was planned for this final Hogsmeade visit, the plans that would make it a visit to remember. She indulged in those desires and anticipation and she laughed. Derisive? Hysterical? Perhaps a mix of the both but she laughed nonetheless, wondering why in the world she had ever tried to fight this. "Incendio!" It was the first thought that came to mind, spurred on by the flames all around them, no doubt, and she unleashed it at random amongst a group of students, not bothering to check their faces. Afraid that seeing those faces, recognizing those people, would allow a wave of doubt and remorse to overcome her? Her jaw tightened. No. No... And that was it. No. There was no sense of lying to herself, no nagging feeling that it was all a ruse. She wasn't doubtful of anything. And why should she be? "Confringo!" she cried out, laughing again as her lips formed the spell, as the side of the carriage she'd aimed her wand at exploded outwards. Laughing because she had no reason to be worried or doubtful about any of this.

This was who she was.

[/blockquote]

[doc]

OK, so I know how we've all been waiting for this to happen, but I never thought it was going to happen like this! Get two amazing writers, a plot which everyone has been on tenterhooks waiting for, and you get these two fantastic posts which basically sum up for me the amazingness of Lily and James, and Jooj and Kiara! WARNING: Major squeeness ahead!

"James."

Never in his life had his name sounded so beautiful, so absolutely sublime than when it fell from Lily Evans' lips. Her voice was harsh and raspy, sure, but it was there. She was alive. She was breathing. She was calling for him. He couldn't stop the sob that bubbled up in his throat, barely able to contain himself as he quickly gathered her up in his arms. He didn't care that they were in the middle of the melee. He didn't care that, at any moment, someone on one of those brooms could fly overhead and hex them straight to hell. He didn't care about anything other than the girl in his arms who was breathing. Nothing else seemed important in that moment. Nothing seemed worthier than to hold her like he was, tight enough to him that he could feel her chest rising and falling, yet far enough away that it was obvious how gentle he wanted to be. To run his fingers through her long, soft red hair and to continue to press small kisses to the top of her head. To rock her back and forth as if to calm her down, all the while crying himself because he couldn't believe he almost lost her. She almost died. It was that thought that made his arm curl just a little tighter around her waist. It was that thought that caused him to begin chanting back to her, just as quietly, "I love you, too. I love you, too..." pressing kisses to her hair in between each phrase. Though, he shushed her soon after that, stroking her hair and changing his phrasing. "Relax, love. You're fine. You're safe." You're alive. He closed his eyes, leaning his face down and pressing his nose to her hair, inhaling a deep breath and letting it out with a sigh. He curled his arm around her tighter. "I can't believe I almost lost you."

The words left his mouth in a rush, absolutely breathless as he sat there, trying to get a hold of himself. "I don't want to ever lose you ever again, Lily Evans." He pulled away from her, bringing both hands up to cup her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks. He rested his forehead against hers, taking deep breaths, still trying to calm down a heart that seemed determined to jump right out of his chest. "I can't lose you." He whispered brokenly, scoffing as he felt more tears slide down his face. It was too close of a call. Too close for him to ever be comfortable with it. He never wanted to go through something like that ever again, even if it meant spending the rest of his life protecting her. The corners of his lips twitched upward into some semblence of a smile as he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to hers again. Especially if it meant spending the rest of his life protecting her. He pulled away, opening his eyes and melting at the sight of hers, bringing a hand up and pushing some of the hair away from her face, his hand skimming down to cup her chin, his thumb running over her lips. He paused in his movements to consider her quite seriously, whispering intimately to her as if they were really alone and unsurrounded by chaos. As if he hadn't just brought her back from death. As if their life would ever resemble anything remotely normal. James Potter flicked his thumb one more time over Lily Evans' lips, a ghost of a smile tracing up his face as he considered her again. Finally, he whispered:

"Marry me."

[/b][/center]


Alive. She was alive. Alive. She'd never thought how precious life was until it had almost been snatched from her. She had never imagined that she could be robbed of her future in one blink of an eye. One moment. All it had taken was one moment. One murderer. One hex. And one more moment was all it took to save her. One angel. One breath. Just one. She buried her face deeper into his neck, desperately breathing in his scent, the one that was so familiar to her. She was breathing too hard, and it hurt to breathe, it hurt all over, but the pain was good. She liked the pain, because it reminded her that she was alive. That she wasn't dead, that she could still feel pain. His crooning voice in her ear helped slow her breathing, although her grip never loosened. Too soon, it was too soon. She couldn't let him go. She would never let him go. "James," she murmured again, just because she could. Because she could say his name, and hold him, and breathe in the scent she loved so much. Because she could look into his beautiful hazel eyes, run her fingers through that unruly black hair of his, hear him laugh with abandon. Because she was alive. It was terrifying to think that she might have died and left him. That she could have missed out on more days listening to his soothing voice, playfully reprimanding him, even getting angry with him when he frustrated the hell out of her, and then making up with him after they argued. To think she almost missed out on all that. God, what a terrifying thought.

When he pulled away, she forced herself to released her grip, turning her eyes up to his. Was he crying? She felt her heart constrict a little and she raised shaky fingers to his cheeks, brushing the tears away clumsily.

"I can't lose you."

"You're not going to lose me. I'm right here. I'm okay. I'm okay."[/color] God, but she was better than okay, because he was here and she was alive. She smiled slightly at his kiss; it was soft and quick, sweet, and she smiled at the familiarity, because it told of many to come. And that was exactly what she wanted.

"Marry me."

Yes.

"Huh?"[/color] she blurted out dumbly instead, pulling away slightly to look at him with wide eyes. Married? He was proposing to her in the middle of the battlefield after she'd almost died? It was too much - too soon - it was too hasty - they didn't - they were too - what if they didn't - how could they - she couldn't even form a proper amount of reasons why she shouldn't, because she was too busy staring into his eyes, and her heart was bursting at the seams with the love she had for him and, for once in her life, Lily Evans went with her heart instead of her head. Who cares if they hadn't even graduated yet? Who cares if they were too young? Who cares if it was too spur-of-the-moment? Who cares about any of that? Certainly not her. Because all she could see, all she could feel, was James and her love for James. Because she couldn't live without him. Because she loved him. So it felt like the most natural thing in the world when her lips and tongue formed the three-letter word as she threw her arms around his neck with a soft laugh:

"Yes."[/color]

And then, in case had any doubt in his mind:

"Yes, yes, yes!"

[/color][/center][/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[johnnymyers]

I have one word for you all:

RABHAI.

If anyone has even attempted to keep up with the massive plotting shenanigans that is Rabhai, you might have quite the doozy of a story brewing. First they're together, and they're absolutely perfect. Sure, they fight occasionally, but stuff like that happens, until it's happening too much so that they break up. Betrayal of trust does that to people, but Rab knew just how to earn it back. I mean, killing Jagger (who was attempting to rape Khai) was a little extreme, but that's the basic definition of Rabhai; extreme. Because it only got worse (better?) from there. Then they're dating again, but Khai doesn't know what she wants so she cheats with Ludo and Rab lets her go... for a little while, until he realizes he can't live without her. So he chases after her, doing everything in his power to win her back. And he does, and they're together and happy again. Then Khai gets pregnant, and Rabastan goes out of his way to ensure that he can marry her-- breaking off his betrothal to that whore of a girl his parents want him to marry. He basically gives up his family for her. I mean, come. on. How adorable? Forget that it's Rabastan fucking Lestrange with all his craziness. Who else went "awwwwwe :3" at that proposal? Then Rodo kills their baby, and Rab kicks his ass... and let's briefly forget my own character's adoration of Khai in Hogsmeade; the fight that's currently going down? Something of a standard.

He hits her.

... I mean, I could have found paragraphs and posts and the threads, but it's the whole thing. Abbie and Izzy have taken two characters and made a realistic, intriguing, interesting and entertaining storyline out of them. To try and reduce that to mere posts is almost an insult. I'm here praising Rabhai as a whole and secretly hoping I'm not the only rabid Rabhai (haha) fan stalking their threads like nuts.

Kudos, Abbie and Izzy. Fucking kudos to you guys.

[brody]

so this entire post is mindbogglingly awesome, but this. holy shit this. this. it just. nearly broke me. i have no words. i have no words but "holy shit this needs to go to the admirer's thread now."

so yeah. if you like thisss, go and read the rest of ali's post at the lake. cause i mean. like. SHIT YO. SHIIIIIT. that's a lot of shit. um. yeah sorry. *stares at homework*



She felt her knees go weak as she broke away from Sirius’s warmth, shrinking away from his strong, comforting frame that, suddenly, didn’t seem as comforting anymore. Her side ponytail bobbed slightly as her head wavered between Sirius and Marlene, reading the language between their eyes. The wind came around, causing her to shiver a little. The punch cup in her hand suddenly grew cold on her fingers, and she felt like it was a dead weight. It was just... there. Because she’d originally picked it up, drank from it, and was done with it. There was still a little bit left, but not much. It was just a plain cup, not very pretty, and the punch was a dull shade of pink. Its taste was sweet, but had a butter edge. And now she didn’t want it anymore. It was cold. She wanted to drop it, be rid of it, never see it again. Sort of like Sirius. He was done with her. She had been sweet at first but now she was just holding him back from what he really wanted – who he really wanted. She was a dead weight lying limp in his hands, she was an abomination, plain in comparison to Sirius’s true love. She was uninteresting, dull, bland, boring. Flavorless. Sirius had taken a few sips of her and now he was done, ready to discard her in the nearest waste basket and move on to something more exciting. She was a waste. A wasted, pitiful, disgusting wretch and Sirius didn’t want to hang on to her any longer. Who would, when they could have Marlene McKinnon, Hogwarts Diva? Alice was living in Marlene’s shadow, had been ever since first year. She’d watched Marls carefully, come to even develop a sort of unprecedented respect for her, but now? Now the girl was going to live out Alice’s dreams. Marlene was going to get married to Sirius. Marlene was going to bear his children. Marlene would get to live with him forever. Marlene would get to wake up to his sweet face every morning. Marlene would get to make breakfast for him, would get to kiss him goodnight every evening, would get to celebrate holidays with him, would get to share private jokes with him, would get to grow old with him, would get to be with him till the end. Marls and Sirius forever. And where was Alice in all this? She would be the one reluctantly invited to the holiday parties, the awkward one in the corner that everyone invited because they had to, not because they wanted to. She would be the cyst, the one person everyone dreaded seeing. ‘The fuck-up,’ they would say. ‘The fuck-up’s coming for Christmas, better be prepared.’ And she would bring gifts, but they would be the wrong gifts, and she would bring cookies, but odds are everyone would be allergic to them, and she would wear a nice dress, but she’d probably spill something on it halfway through. Because she was a fuck-up, and that’s what fuck-ups do. They fuck up. They fuck everything up past the point of no return, and everyone hates them for it. Just like everyone hated Alice. Just like Alice hated Alice.