Vote For Your Top Ten Completed Fics: March 2013
Nominated fics have been COMPLETED between 1st and 31st March 2013 and are CURRENTLY AVAILABLE in the public domain, by open searching through fics sites, blogs, etc.
Any fics falling outwith these requirements, will be disqualified from the final poll results.
The poll will close on Wednesday 1st May 2013.
Limited to one vote per person in each 24 hour period.
For further details and fic links, check out the Top 10 Poll – Who’s Who?
To vote for your favourite, please go to:
Thank you to whoever got me nominated, and to the lovelies at the site. And if you vote for Lumina, I might just luff you. XO
You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love
James tried to take my mother from me. He attempted to destroy my family, to dispose of our every reason. He should have gone right ahead and ripped out each of our hearts. But of course, that’s why he chose her, and we all knew it. As Bella began to change, I didn’t hesitate. I found James, lying in wait like the animal that he was, and I took his life from him. I ripped his dead heart from his chest, and held it up for him to see. Where my own dead heart lies, one soul beats for me. James, he was soulless. I know the difference now. I see the difference now.
The sky is really close. Like, all the way here. Right here, just above us. I don’t know who’s in the room, and who’s not anymore.
I drank from Edward.
Cold, and easy. I felt like I was finally getting the drink I had been dying for.
He kisses me. His tongue against mine. The last drops of him still there, lingering between us.
He said he couldn’t wait for us to be safe.
He said he was sorry.
He held my hand as the room grew warmer, grew hot. He held me down as the paint felt like it was peeling off the walls and burying me.
“I can’t breathe.”
I had said.
Then I heard them. Voices. So many it seemed, all at once.
“It doesn’t make sense.” I told him.
But when I pulled him closer, there was nothing but my heavy arm, and my lonely hand.
“It’s not the same now. Nothing is the way it was before. It’s better. It’s all so much better. And it all means so much that, out there… It doesn’t mean as much anymore. I feel like I’m living on the outside looking in and… I’m not sure what being out there, in the world is supposed to be anymore. Because you’re here, and I’m here. And if I leave, if I go back to the same room, the same classes… I don’t know, maybe I’m not explaining it right, it’s just…nothing is the same now.”
“Everything is different. I get it.”
Tonight We Build A Dream On
She is soft, and altogether too existing, she is irrefutable, and I feel as if my strength might break her. One sharp movement, and her kisses would cease. Kissing never excited me like this before; the sweeping of her lips on mine, it feels sublime. Kisses were just one part of something greater. A larger adventure, the pursuit of intoxication, a sequence set to a certain scene and flavour. The result always being the immense prize of one’s virtue, the generosity of another’s body.
Bella’s body is pressed against me. We are more than okay, and she isn’t dying from my touch.
Read chapter 24
Lumina has been nominated in the poll over at The Lemonade Stand!
(Thank you to Six Dlbfive and the lovelies at TLS)
This is great! ❤
Go check it out, and vote!
Flora and the Zephyrs
The water is like a fresh day, blinding in light. The heat drowns my body, running along my skin and away as I try to hold on, holding onto the wall. I don’t feel like I was just lying in a pool of my own blood, and dirt. I don’t feel like almost dying. My tummy shakes, and I wonder about the consequences. The world is too bright, and way too loud, so I stand directly under the head of the shower, hard sprays drenching my shivering form, and every time I think I can hear something I couldn’t possibly hear, I turn my head to the side and let the water run along my ears.
The water is like a fresh day. And Edward is waiting for me.
Lumina, chapter 23
Flora and the Zephyrs by John William Waterhouse
To Make Whole
Threaded vines, dark and lovely. Pale skin painted by a massacre. If I never see blood again, I will be the most grateful. If I knew the thirst would never come back, uprooting any other thought I ever had, I would be the most grateful.
If I can wash away the images of today, it will be a miracle.
As Bella lay dying in the road, I couldn’t bring myself to this new place.
Crash Into You
Billy wasn’t mad at me. He was hurt. I could see it from the look on his face; holding months of words I think he wanted to throw at me but couldn’t, wouldn’t ever. Hurt. Hurt that I had seemingly forgotten him, and the world that made up my second family. Hurt that I didn’t come around anymore. Hurt.