| Kakikotoba means "the written word" in Japanese.|
This group is dedicated to the written word! Anything related to the written word is accepted here.
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Features for features:
Death of a CutterIt broke.Death of a Cutter by LuckySlugger
Inside every man there is something more dear to him than life itself. A man may lose his head, his arm, his eyes, or even his life, but he is still recognizable as a man. But a man must never lose his soul, lest he become no better than the beasts he once hunted. A traitor to his beliefs, crushing that which makes up this inexplicable organ, is doomed to live the remainder of his days hollow, no longer living but merely undying. Men with broken souls are biological clockwork, rusting out their days until they break down into wet cogs and gears.
So cherished, and yet so fragile.
It happened while protecting the corrupt government from another rebellion. There was always good money in protecting bad people, and with such occurences happening every few months, it was easy money, too. I was the greatest of all cutters, the damned mercenaries hired by those totalitarian bastards. Having given myself over to the bloodlust, I tore through enemy lines, only to find myself facing
Little StarYou think you're the star,Little Star by lostmyslef
Flying way up high.
Nothing can touch you.
You own the sky.
Your colors are bright,
no one shines brighter.
You're number one....
till you go a bit higher.
Farther in the sky,
there are stars that shine true,
and you cannot compare.
You're just little old you.
Those stars are huge.
You'll never compare.
Don't even try.
Don't even dare.
You're small and weak.
They're big and strong.
Your shine is meek,
and theirs is long.
So just give up.
There's nothing to do.
You're not good enough,
yes, it's true.
It's not true at all.
Those stars may be big,
but keep standing tall.
You're a star too,
no matter the size.
Don't believe the insults.
Don't believe the lies.
Yes your shine is unique,
and done your own special way,
and that's all that really matters
at the end of the day.
So shine your best little star,
and know this to be true.
You may not be perfect,
but you're perfectly you.
Real Women Have CurvesOr they don’t, or they’re not “technically” women.Real Women Have Curves by starell
What makes a person who they are? What defines their identity? In most people it is a combination of a great wide variety of a great wide variety of a number of things. It’s very difficult to determine. Some things are physical and some are mental. Some things that define you cannot be changed and others you wouldn’t change for the life of you. But they are all there, these markers of who we are and whom we have the potential to be.
Teenager. Woman. Whovian. Person of color. Gay. Christian. Book worm. Boy. Lover.
We all have these badges of self that we display proudly or hesitantly or consider of grievous import or barley none. And as people we understand the pain of being attacked for who you are. The terrible, almost unearthly, hurt that can permeate our very beings when things that we cannot or will not (I admire your convictions!) change about ourselves are attacked. It seams amazing that in
obscene gamethe place is filthyobscene game by katsumoto82
her naked body is cold
her hands are bound with barbed wire
each movement pushes
the barbed wire in her skin
her blood flows on her breasts
the pain is unbearable
this game is very hard
his phantasm is indecent
This love is an torture
however, she loves this weird man
who sometimes drinks her blood
when this obscene game is finished
The Snake's NestCrutches for the crippled, band-aids for the wounded. Kisses to soothe the pain.The Snake's Nest by GammaGhosts
As a child, I liked to scratch my skin until it bled. I liked the sight of it; the tiny rivulets of red.
The best part however, would be to pick on the scabs to see what hid underneath.
Even as I learned that the result would be no different, no matter how many times I executed this experiment - I continued to dig my nails in deep. Perhaps out of stubbornness. Perhaps out of conviction.
One day there'd be a great discovery, of that I was sure - still am - I suppose.
Nowadays my skin remains untouched, albeit a bit marred from the experience. For a while I believed that I had outgrown this habit of mine. But I've come to realize that I apply this behavior to most of the things that I happen to come across. Thinking about my line of work and field of research; it makes sense, doesn't it?
I find people to be the most interesting of subjects. I'll scratch them raw, pick them apart. To me, their thou
Treasure HuntersLeave land beforeTreasure Hunters by starell
The sun has thought
To make it's way 'round
Their motor whirring lowly
Chopping though dark waters
Until almost too far from the coastline
It's still black,
But threatening dark blue
Deeper than they should
Where it's still dark as pitch
Breathe air in the water
As it bites them with the cold
Currents carrying them
Farther and farther out
Until the water becomes turquoise
Graveyard Grand JeteThe rotted stairs groaned as I slunk through the house. Clouds of dust swirled in the night air. My eyes could barely make out shapes from the drab interior, but I did not stumble. Slowly I picked my way through the house to the hidden staircase, Carrie trailing behind me.Graveyard Grand Jete by starell
The latch rasped as the tumblers freed the catch and the door jolted open. Squeaking slightly, the trapdoor opened and Carrie and I slipped out onto the roof. Moonlight striped us silver and illuminated the grime of centuries on top of the old house. And then I danced.
Forgetting the impending doom tomorrow would bring and how Madame would yell at the grit caked in my slippers. My arms floated high above my head as I flirted with the edge. Spinning closer and closer to the very edge of the roof I would leap and twirl with the night. Carrie whimpered, cowering against the chimney eyes widened with fright, pleading with me to come back.
It was getting late. I slipped off my shoes grabbing her hand I guided us out of th
DearestDearest,Dearest by starell
Would that you were closer,
So I could read aloud
The words I’ve only written,
The thoughts I haven’t dared.
Speak my desires
Onto your lips and into your mouth
So they might wrap around your tongue
And maybe travel to your heart.
Would that you were closer,
So I could catch the notes
You shout from high cliffs
That travel over oceans
Until they get to me,
Where I wait on the sand,
And only grasp faint whispers
Carried by the waves.
Would that you were closer,
So we could count the freckles
That dot across our noses.
Which we got from waiting
Every night in the moonlight
So we wouldn’t miss the love letters
Hung by the other
On the evening breeze.
Would that you were closer.
StudyI sit here at my desk.Study by MissCherryVampire
In a cold dark corner
‘Why do I study?
Won’t it be easier if we all could just place the information into our brains,
And store it?
With no effort.
With no stress.
Won’t it be better that way?’
But, then I think,
If we were like that,
Where would be our freedom?
We would know everything
But would we understand it?
Would we argue that not everything we learn is right?
Or that some things just don’t make sense.
Would we even have an opinion of our knowledge?
Or would we just accept it.
Then, I realize it.
We study not because we want to,
But because we need to!
We need to know things,
But we also need to understand
We need to argue,
So we can be different.
Because we are meant to flawed and frustrated
By this cold dark world
So I’ll sit in my corner
And open my books.
PassingDistant and out to sea, the loneliest sound I’ve ever heard - the call of gulls – drifts on the gray of early morning. As if in a dream, I walk the dunes, between foam-kissed shorelines and misted hillocks covered with swaying sea grass grown tall, that leans away as the breath of incoming waves approaches, and fades back as they exhale.Passing by jade-pandora
Dark hair in my eyes, I look up the wandering coast and make out the figure of a young woman who is also walking, barefoot and solo, while the onshore breezes push the straw hair from her brow, her pale eyes peering with interest as we draw near, her mouth softening with acceptance. Then, passing each other, we both keep turning every few steps to watch the other walking further away. The sand starts to swallow my feet as I slowly make my way toward the shallows.
bending at tide pool’s edge
the crabs startle
as I see into her grave
Will I also returnI was young as spring,Will I also return by jade-pandora
and held to autumn's wind
in the highest branches,
before crows hollowed them
autumn flurries return
with the scent of fallen fruit,
shelter for next spring
The Mention GameThis journal idea & project is copied from Nathaira-From-Hel's original...The Mention Game by OfOneSoul
As Nathaira-From-Hel states:
"To be honest, I think there are so many wonderful, talented artists who don't get the credit they deserve. Their stats are low (or a little lower than you would expect) as well as their COMMENT RATE and I don't think this is fair. You see the effort they put in their beautiful drawings... - I have to say it shouldn’t be a shame to be featured in particular for once."
I completely agree.
The concept of Nathaira-From-Hel's project is so selfless and inspirational - I knew I had to follow through. I want us all to take a moment and consider her words. There are SO many artists who work tirelessly to produce quality deviations they sweated and bled for and recei
Welcome to the Llama Party!If you're reading this journal, you're cordially invited to my...Welcome to the Llama Party! by OfOneSoul
In my "last journal" I revealed this upcoming party with no clues as to what it would involve. All I revealed is that it would include prizes such as & Premium Memberships. What I did ask of you was to answer this poll. The question?
What is your favorite number between 1 and 10? And why?
This was in fact the first "contest". I perused the comments and chose the number I will be using in the party based on the entrant's reason. And the winner of the first prize, 100 , is...
- with their comment:
"I like 6.
Ever since I started learning numbers in school, and math,
The Misadventures of a Pair of Idiots"Jake, it’s not safe. Get the fuck out of there and come here." It wasn’t a strange situation to Zack because when having friends like that, he would end up in a lot of problems.The Misadventures of a Pair of Idiots by Miles-tan
"Come on man, we’re just exploring this weird cave, it’s not like something bad will happen." And that was it, when you put together the words ‘weird’ and ‘cave’ it doesn’t give you good vibes.
"Jake I will count to three and if you don’t go out before I will make sure-"
"Aw c’mon mom just lose yourself a little."
But when you’re an angel these bad vibes are really bad news.
Tugging on the border of his violet shirt Zack followed nervously his reckless friend and protected chosen. The more they entered the more it gave him bad feelings and the more it became… weird. There was an indescriptible feeling filling the air the more they get deep and Jake seemed oblivious to this.
Tsk, stupid humans that’s why they get ki
Supernatural x Tamer - Summer VacationSupernatural x Tamer - Summer Vacation by darkangel2454
Info: God's Eye(s) - Humans who's born with special powers.
God's Hands - Name of the organizations built by the God's Eyes.
Genre: Fantasy, Supernatural, Action, Comedy.
Special Chapter - Summer Vacation
I am Lucien Maya, seventeen years old. I died and have turned into a spirit last month, and many various kinds of different phenomenons have happened to me, like adventure, tragedy, disaster and battles. Romeo Ackerman is the one who's been taking care of me, in exchange of becoming his Spirit Partner. And by the order of the organization that we are currently working for, we have been fighting together against various kinds of Supernatural entities such as Demons, Evil Spirits and Beasts that have appeared from different world and dimensions. But today is the special day, because we were given the time to rest as our vacation, and now we are currently off to the beach resort which Willy have prepare
Fending for myself (part 1)Fending for myself (part 1) by SwayingSerenity
"Hello. My Name is General Jake F. Flow. And I've achieved nothing in my life."
Jake the wolf sat in front of his screen and was recording his first V-log-memoirs.
"But I don't quite care because I used to care and it only made things worse. This is being totally unable to care. At all. Caring is also bad for you. Look after yourself, manage to get out before they'll get you. Otherwhise you'll end up like me, and I'll tell you, JUST like me. Oh well, yeah. And... Uhm. Trust is bad too. And so is confidence. Never be confident in yourself, you'll only fuck it up. And never be confident in anyone, because they'll let you down anyways. In the end you'll be betrayed by everyone and there's no running. They took everything you ever had. And you achieved nothing, little soldier. Nothing, I'll tell ya." Jake stopped for a few seconds and let his thoughts sway. And at this state he wanted to feel anger and hatred, but there wasn't even guilt or emptiness inside of him. It was pretty hopeless,
Chapter 41 - This Is Why==========Chapter 41 - This Is Why by jemgirl
This is a gay story. No ifs, ands or buts about it. Don't like, don't read.
“So?” I prompted Al when we were half way down the first block.
“So what?” he asked as we kept walking forward.
“What happened next with you and Brian? Did your parents show up then too? Did Ben?” I asked him as I was slowly being eaten by the need to know what happened next.
“No, one else walked in, but Eila told Brian that he was never to come near her or our house again or she would tell my parents and his about the two of us. Well that is the cleaned up version of what she said,” Al told me.
“And you just let her?” I asked a little surprised. I was surprised at myself for saying it, but also at Al for not standing up to his younger sister. Sure she had a right to be mad, but not at him. “I mean this wasn't your fault. She should have been mad at him,” I said in explanation of my earlier statement.
Diviners of Runawynd Act IDiviners of Runawynd Act I by Runawynd
"But that's just immoral!" Denying all professionalism, Garrick harshly snapped at the supreme god, Keiran, who calmly sat in his cozy, luxurious office seat. "I can't believe you want me to carry out a mission like that!"
With the mildest of expressions, Keiran merely blinked up at the enraged one and countered, unexpectedly cold, "Since when do morals matter here? At this place where we observe and judge humanity? We focus on facts, not feelings. You know that." He added, patronizing.
"Tch, I don't need you reminding me. And I know what I need to do, but there's no way I'm-" Garrick welcomed the coming verbal battle; thus, when his superior rose from his seat, he could feel his own temper rising as well.
Keiran then approached him face-to-face, smirking all the while he spoke. "Look, I love the way you think " A graceful hand took to Garrick's pounding neck, reached to his face, where it departed with a tender caress. "But talking back to your superior isn't a good idea when the
The Xavier: Chapter 3At the moment of En'fili's peak, the room blazed with the sound of alarm bells. As a shocked En'fili leapt off the bed, her skin shone a deep penetrating, unhealthy yellow; a yellow glow of terror at the bewildering sound. Nikoli just lay stiff, still in shock at the noise and the startlement of En'fili. Their world of intimate unadulterated bliss came to fall as reality massacred it midway. A booming voice came over the speaker system-The Xavier: Chapter 3 by ShadowsOfAVorlon
"Report to alert stations. This is NOT a drill!"
The message in Commander Neroon's parade voice continued thrice more, then harshly stopped. With no time at all to spare Cromwell and Feliss hurriedly dressed themselves and ran towards the bridge Sola-lift, sorting each other's uniform on the way. As the two corrected their hair and made final adjustments to each other's kit, they began to think the worst- a declaration of war by the Vorath.
"But w-what if..."
Nikoli interrupted- "What if... nothing! We're on an Obsidion Class Luna Destroyer. We're on th
The Fallen Star: Chapter 8EIGHTThe Fallen Star: Chapter 8 by TheFS
Whatever Lakor tried to do, he couldn't sleep. It wasn't just the gentle creaking of the house that kept him awake, but the constant questions that rattled around in his head. He shuffled around onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Slowly, he pushed his hands under his head and closed his eyes again.
Sleep had just taken hold over him, when a sudden thump echoed through his room. He reopened his eyes, hearing footsteps outside his door. He lifted up his head and tried to hear who it was.
Against Kantou's wishes, both Hamsol and Saru insisted that they should rest until morning. And yet, someone was awake. Lakor continued to listen, and heard the unmistakeable creaking of the stairs, as someone tiptoed downwards into the living room. There was click as the front door was opened, and another as it softly swung back to.
He pushed himself from his bed, shuffled over to the window and drew back the curtain. In the light of the moon, he could see a man strolling into the
A Renaissance Dinner Party Guests:A Renaissance Dinner Party by social-shut-in
Queen Elizabeth the First
Lorenzo de’ Medici
Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni
Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci
Menu (More Snacks Than Actual Meal):
First Course: Manchet Bread with Butter
Second Course: Double Ale, Roasted Capon, and Game Pie
Third Course: Sweetmeats, Pastries with Marmalade, and Mead
da Vinci, Michelangelo, Shakespeare, Medici, Her Majesty
(Right after Her Majesty arrives and all are seated)
Shakespeare: I do believe all of us have arrived. Now, what shall we all talk about on this nice day?
Medici: I would like to ask Her Majesty how Her land of England is doing.
Elizabeth: It’s doing as well as your city of Florence, maybe even better. Our Royal Navy has expanded and has brought back many stories of the New World.
Medici: I do believe Your Majesty, is gloating.
Elizabeth: I feel no need to gloat. C
The Apology: Full ScriptThe ApologyThe Apology: Full Script by ZachValkyrie
Page 1: Six panels arranged in three rows of equal height. The top row is composed of one full-width panel. The middle row contains two panels of equal width. The bottom row contains three panels of equal width.
Top Panel: A long wide view of a large tan-grey concrete building in a vast field. The building is surrounded by a tall razorwire fence. Several guard towers are visible along the fence. The midday sky above the building is blue and cloudless. Behind the building, the fields stretch for miles without a single structure to be seen until the rolling hills swallow the landscape.
Middle Left Panel: Upward view of an unmarked black military helicopter with the midday sun peeking out from behind the rotor column.
Middle Right Panel: A view of the roof of the concrete building. The roof is made of the same tan-grey concrete as the building. On the right side of the panel, there stands a doorway leading to a stairwe
StagelightsStagelights by MirkwoodElf
INT. STAGE - NIGHT
CHRISTINE and LUCY work on the lighting panel on the stage floor. They are alone. There are only a few lights on above the stage - the audience space is dark.
A phone rings from an office backstage. Lucy and Christine look up, to the right; Lucy rolls her eyes and sighs.
Ill get it. Try switching the cables again. . .
She stands and walks off, through the right wing, leaving Christine alone. Christine kneels down and fiddles with the cables.
A noise, like the WHOOSH of a cape, sounds from somewhere out in the dark of the audience space. Christine looks up, staring out into the dark. She quickly stands up and grabs a screwdriver from the floor.
There is the sound of more movement, closer to her, then silence.
Slowly, she turns her head to her left, and, just outside the left wing, the PHANTOM st
Informed OpinionsThe hours were waning into the cooler parts of the day. The gentle autumn temperatures seemed to contrast, in a way, with the warm light of the bold, golden colors that were beginning to set the western sky aflame. The sun stretched its impotently burning touch over the elves' gilded kingdom of eternal song and efflorescence, and in the courtyard between the Arcane Academy and the Temple of the Sun, it gleamed on the heads of two pointy-eared figures, who sat looking like femininely personified contrasts of night and day themselves.Informed Opinions by AranyaVerSarn
One wore the dark garb of a warlock, her silvery tresses falling in elegant waves around her shoulders, while the taller one's sleek black mane brushed lightly over the threads of her mage-robes and fell a little to one side with the tilt of her head.
"How long have you had this?" Shad'ara asked. Her fair, whiskery eyebrows twitched with intrigue as she regarded the crystalline object hovering in the empty space above the open palms of her friend's hands, s
Freedom to Live (Nalu Story) Chap.8Chapter 8</I>Freedom to Live (Nalu Story) Chap.8 by NTjm505
Lucy was inside room getting ready for work. She heard the news that the Salamander struck again. This time he killed and burned two innocent bystanders. That wasn’t all. The reporter also states that he blow the thieves we captured include a two police officers. This was getting serious. Officers were even posting off signs for official guilds. She was little scared of who this guy actually is.
She finished putting on her clothes and grabs her keys and whip and headed out. She arrives at the guild and sees Mira and Laxus having a little conversation together. It was attractive. She sees Natsu sitting at the table. “Natsu, how are you feeling?” she asks. He looks at her. “Oh yeah, I’m perfectly fine. Just a bit tired.” He replied. “I see. Well, I had a lot of fun our mission today. I’m hoping we do it again soon.” she smiled.
“Yeah.” Natsu’s face was a little again. H
Ghost Stories Lit. Contest UPDATE: 2 days left w/17 entries. BTW - I will be accepting entries up until Friday, October 31st, 11:59 PM Central Time. Any time after that... TOUGH LUCK, SAID THE DEAD DUCK.Ghost Stories Lit. Contest by OfOneSoul
It's October 1st.
And OfOneSoul, IrrevocableFate, DreamingAutumn, & DrippingWords
are proud to announce their next Lit. Contest...
:iconscaredplz: <--------- THIS is you.
:iconpetpetplz: <--------- THIS is us.
No time to be scared, lovelies! It's time to write.
Although the "Bestest Friend Contest" that IrrevocableFate & DreamingAutumn headed up together has yet to end, we're just TOO excited to work together agai
The Narrative Kind of Lit.Welcome to OfOneSoul's first issue of...The Narrative Kind of Lit. by OfOneSoul
Kind of Lit.
If you support this article or were featured in it, feel free to advertise ClefairyKid's awesome stamp!
... and in accordance with my well-known disorder, .giflovingmania,
everyone's favorite narrating TV Show character, DEXTER, will be hosting this article's .gifs.
... he's so yummy, but usually covered in blood. Which is cool. Sort of.
a spoken or written account of connected events; a story.
"the hero of his modest narrative"
in the form of or concerned with narration.
"a narrative poem"
So, if you haven't figured it out yet... this is a feature article specializing in the
Clothes, Or Why We Should All Be NudistsClothes, Or Why We Should All Be Nudists by shadowsmokeandfire
If you looked through my closet, you would notice that my wardrobe consists almost entirely of black running pants, black athletic shorts, and black T-shirts. You may find the occasional white button-up hidden among my paint-splattered shirts from middle school and graphic tees, but the few nice shirts I own have problems of their own, often being too large or stained. I realize my closet is abysmal, especially for a teenage girl. My closet should overflow with denim shorts and vintage T-shirts, not the dreary athletic wear that inhabits most of it. I have tried to even out the ratio of dresses to sweatpants in my wardrobe, or at least introduce a color other than black, but my utilitarianism usually wins at the checkout counter. Black matches with everything and works for most occasions. Besides, I never leave the house unless I am going to school or Church, exercising, or buying groceries, so I see no purpose for a flowery crop-top or ripped jeans. There is no reason for me to buy cl
Drowning Sirens: Chapter OneDrowning Sirens: Chapter One by OfOneSoul
Chapter One: Voyeurism
"How many kids do you have?"
A voice crowed from across a large maroon fence separating all the neighborhood's front yards. Deanna Finnegan accidentally dropped the large box marked "breakable" and cringed at the sound of shattering dinner plates. She clenched her fists nervously and caught the eyes of her disapproving stepmother in her peripheral vision.
"Just pick it up, Deanna." The immediate Mrs. Finnegan ordered, raising her tone at the end of the sentence to intensify her disdain. Deanna scowled and watched curiously as her father crept towards the large fence until he came face to face, so to speak, with a large, gray eye. He knocked on the wood which caused the voyeur to turn away.
Deanna followed her father to the end of the fence and listened as the new neighbors made their introductions. "Hi, my name's Liam Finnegan, and this is my daughter, Deanna." Deanna nodded politely, grateful to be out of her stepmother's line of vision.
Drowning Sirens: PrologueDrowning Sirens: Prologue by OfOneSoul
Prologue: A picture is worth a thousand words...
Just off the Gulf of Mexico Mrs. Waverly was peeling the skin from a boiled shrimp she had bought at the market that morning. The steam had begun to rise in her quaint kitchen and she had raised all of her windows to thin the air. The smells of the sea rushed into her house, mixing with the hydrangeas and lavender she had planted outside.
She inhaled deeply and strolled into the living room, wiping her hands on a damp rag. Mrs. Waverly stopped just in front of the bay window facing the ocean basin. Off in the distance she could see the docks and a few fishing boats barely returning from their day's work. She pressed her fingertips against the glass and smiled warmly as the small heads of her children bobbed across a hill of murky white sand.
Mrs. Waverly waved to them generously as they held up their toy buckets in triumph. The face of her eight year-old son was smug and confident while her four-year old daughter's was f
Note To Self: 12/15/12Note To Self: Its always fun to escape with your father for New Jersey and come home at 6:30 am.Note To Self: 12/15/12 by strawburdeath
Soavist Quote: Internal TimebombAs ourselves, only we have the true power to disable our personal explosives. Sadly only too late do we realise this, so when one (another person) wishes to attempt such a feat- allow them. No, they may not have attained the true means to diffuse you, but neither do you more often than not. Even you alone do all this for temporary measures with shoddy tools- you know not how to utilise; for they are yourself.Soavist Quote: Internal Timebomb by ShadowsOfAVorlon
Someone will too possess these shoddy tools and lack of experience, but just because you cannot does not mean they cannot. It is greatly astonishing to see how observing from differing points of view, frequently gives one an alternate perspective, and so a, perhaps not the, means to do the seemingly unexpectedly impossible.
Will Even Family Forgive?I committed a crime,Will Even Family Forgive? by Starija
one that not only cannot be forgiven
but should not be forgiven.
And how is anything forgiven?
I can try and try,
try as I might until death
but a mistake that's done is unforgettable
and all I'm left with is regret and knowledge
to not make the same mistake again.
But what if I do it again?
Sometimes I get to wondering,
I wonder if my family will take me back
if my daddy understands or if my mom cares
but I wonder most
if my baby brothers and sisters forgive me
because really, the fault is mine and mine alone
for abandoning them
and rendering them disabled forever without cure.
And how do I change now?
I'll try to pay them back in my prison home,
learn to fight and toughen up
so I can try to go back, if they'll take me
and never let my siblings out of my sight again.
So how do I go about it?
It's better to be overprotective,
than to leave them to die the way I once did
and what's more
it's no crime, no crime to protect your loved ones at all.
The Symphony of RainWhere orange rays free fall from the sky,The Symphony of Rain by SereneCyrene
where heaven's time ceases to deny
the desire for a weeping cloud,
hear the sky roar out loud...
As you stretch your hand out for a tear
near the deep vertical atmosphere.
"Can't this sorrowful terrain
spare any room for rain?"
Break to the symphony of rain!
Feel it's darted arrows plunge,
throw your adrenaline into a lunge,
and watch nature start to breathe.
The heart now stands to know
of an indescribable water flow.
Break to the symphony of rain,
the sweet symphony of rain!
Where orange rays free fall from the sky,
is where a fair child questions why
the stars won't create a path
for the clouds to finally pass...
As he stretches his hand out for a tear
near the deep vertical atmosphere.
"Can't this sorrowful terrain
spare any room for rain?"
Back to Chorus x1
And the stillness after a storm
slanders the tension of a beating sun.
Just a shower thirty seconds long
slanders the tension of a beating sun.
Back to Chorus x2
Ba Dundun Ba Dundun Ba Dundun...BaBa Dundun Ba Dundun Ba Dundun... by strawburdeath
I can be
You might just
When you see
What gives me glee
You might take
Take a peek
What do you see
When you look at me
Covered with spiders
Do I give you the shivers?
Why does your lip quiver?
Is the grass not green enough?
Welcome to the other side!
What have you done
To my one
Beautiful it was
Bright as the sun
Dark as the depths of my heart
Deep will you look
My heart you thought you took
But my knife will be taking yours
Try once again
Who I am inside
I DARE YOU!!!
Song of OsettoSong of Osetto by xXsugar0cubeXx
Let the islands join together like they once were!
Back to the times before Ikar won!
Before he tore us from one another!
Praise Osetto for joining us together!
Thank the other Gods for helping us.
Thank the other Goddesses for bringing us fresh water.
Let us enjoy what we have been brought!
Tips on Avoiding Word ConfusionWord confusion. You’re and your. To, two, and too. Their, they’re, and there. Effect and affect. Its and it’s. Then and than. Who’s and whose. Get the point? Good. Now learn the difference between these words.Tips on Avoiding Word Confusion by TheBloodyEpicPumpkin
You’re and your.
You’re is a contraction, meaning that humans, being lazy like we are, decided to make two words into one. You’re and you are mean the same thing. Your is possessive, meaning it shows ownership. Replace you’re with you are, then read the sentence again. If it doesn’t make sense, you’re probably looking for your. (Hey, look, a proper use of you’re.) If you’re owning something like your ego or your grammar, use your. (Look! My tips double as examples.)
To, two, and too.
Two is a number. Are you talking in terms of numbers? Did she have two slices of cake? Did he pick up two hookers? In other words, you can replace two with 2 (only, not really, because you
What is a Mary-Sue?--Character StudyIf you happen to love writing like I do, you tend to hear this term thrown around every once in a while. Mostly about characters created for fanfiction, but it can also apply to literature that stands on its own. Not everyone knows what it means, so I'll do a little clarification.What is a Mary-Sue?--Character Study by geekgirl8
When most people hear the term, they think of a peppy, annoyingly snarky girl with oddly-colored hair and a contrived name who is impossibly hot, possesses an innumerable amount of magical powers, and really can do no wrong and has no weakness. And in some cases, this trope is correct. In reality however, ANY kind of character can be a Mary-Sue. It depends on how the character is portrayed by the author.
Here are some examples. I'm going to use my character Sawyer Stone from one of my stories as a healthy example of a character, and a character I just made up named Anthy Silverbell for the Mary-Sue. She's already off to a bad start due to her having that name of hers, but let's continue.
I'm going to describe
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