ChocoCoatedLemons

You will die here, alone, in this bed. And I will wish it was me instead.

A/N: I recommend reading the Author's Note before undertaking this. The battle was nearly won. The dead littered the ground, comrade and enemy alike, but the worst was over – and they were winning. Bilbo suddenly had enough time to really look around, panting with exertion, just in time to see the clouds finally burst open. He leaned back against the boulder behind him, willing to sacrifice a moment or two for well-deserved rest, as the rain lashing down upon the still struggling soldiers. In the distance, he could see Gloin and someone who may have been Ori (brandishing a short sword now in addition to his slingshot), while closer he

I want the world to burn as much as I am (breaking), and if that means burning you, then what are we waiting for, baby? I want it all to crackle and hiss, when the wood pops and the metal groans, because maybe then I won't have to singe alone. Billy Joel didn't start the fire, but I wouldn't mind it at all. A match in one hand and a sonnet in the other, I'll bring you to your knees with love songs and gasoline, because if someone has to be the Fire-Starter(Heart-Breaker), then it might as well be someone who really understands what it is to burst into f l a m e s, for one, perfect, Moment.

For deviantART's 12th birthday, the staff decided to throw a fruity surprise party for Fella. They gathered at Fella's favorite restaurant, The Fancy Tortoise, with presents in hand. Llama brought Fella to the door and once they stepped in, all of the staff screamed, "Dear God why!!" Fella was so shocked that he instantly forgotten. He opened his presents to find that Llama had given him 12 toenails. He was amazed! He would never forget that night.

Look at me. I said look at me. No. Don't. Please, I… Don't know why I said that. I don't mean to, not all the time. I just can't help it. It's like this compulsion, inside me, wanting to… To grab you, hold you tight. You'd try and avert your eyes, you'd writhe in my hands like my hair and I'd scream at you, I'd scream out my rage and my fear and my anger at your presumption. And you would look at me. You'd look into my eyes, my beautiful, hollow eyes, and… No more. I try not to. But, as one hero after another came seeking me, determined to end my… Rampage, this unwanted rampage, I became bitter. And whenever I see ano

His. She stood, watching, quiet and sure. He would come. The night sky soothed, black as her family, dark as his hair had once been. She closed her eyes and her fingers wrapped around the bars across the narrow window, the cool air pushing against her hair, her face. He would come. Five thousand, one hundred and seventy six days. Each one, etched into the dank walls and ceiling surrounding her. Over fourteen years, in total. It was the fifth of January, 1996. She smiled, thinking of the day of her trial, the third of November, 1981. It had been a chance to show her allegiance, her loyalty. The years ahead didn't bother her, the endless wa

Children "Hermione?" "What?" "Do you wanna have kids when you're older?" Harry gave Ron a baffled look. If this was how he was trying to win her over, it was a strange way to go about it. Hermione looked as confused as Harry. "Well, probably, yeah. Why?" Ron shrugged. "Oh, just that, you know. Quite a few of the girls have had boyfriends and stuff by now, and I thought you might not want to get married, 'cause you don't seem, well, interested." Hermione's raised eyebrows and quiet, deliberate tone should have been a warning sign, but Ron was clearly far too deeply immersed in this line of reasoning to notice. "I have plenty of time to t