Sing Us a Song
AkuRoku stare at the moon
O sing a song, mighty Azifal, he of the melodies of the night. Sing of sweet starlight, glittering like gems, and of Mother Moon's baleful glance as she watches the world sleep.

Sleep, sleep away, but for us, the children of the stars and planets, we who dance with the wind and the rain on earth tamped down from many feet. We who live off the forest and the plains, berries and meat and leaves always there so long as we love it eternal and care for it as we do ourselves.

Sing for us, mighty Azifal, oldest of us all but for Mother Moon, the chosen leader with the wisdom of ages in eyes of starlight, though your face hardly shows the years as they pass in leaves and wind and whippoorwill calls. Sing for us of times long past and times yet to be, of the mysteries of the universe and the joys of this world.

Sing for us, and we shall follow you in dance. We will dance on the grass, over yonder rainbow and onto the stars as they glimmer beneath and above and all around us. We will dance of joy and sorrow, so long as it is your song you sing.

Sing so we may learn, sing so we may hear, and sing so we may teach those who come after.

Sing us a song, mighty Azifal. Sing us a dream this clear night.

Life Isn't A Fairy Tale
Axel is unamused
Written during a particularly boring day in history, it just goes to show that I really need to stop re-reading Ink.

People cheer, and babies are kissed...Collapse )

I've been having these weird thoughts lately...
AkuRoku stare at the moon
Excuse my idiot blatherings. I keep writing these things, and I suppose it's therapeutic, but still...

sometimes i feel like asking you to come alongCollapse )

Roxas Heartless Adorableness =3
A tiny silver bell...Collapse )

Bloody Teeth
Yuri's Cut
Stories have been told about her for ages. A tiny fairy who comes to children while they sleep, taking their lost teeth and leaving behind gifts.Collapse )

Roxas Heartless Adorableness =3


There's something about rain that calms me...Collapse )


oh Houston...
okay, guys, there's a problem with the  a_penny_blood  plan.

Specifically, there is a problem with the cover.

I mentioned in a post a few weeks ago that I wanted the cover of  a_penny_blood  to look like the pulp magazines and penny bloods of the days of old, and I still do, but: I got this book from the library - it was a massive book (it weighed four pounds!) full of images of pulp magazines and their covers, and...and...and...THEY WERE SO SEXIST! AGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH! Like, they were REALLY sexist! There were pseudo-rape images with women writhing in horror (because the rapists were, like, sea creatures)! There were naked chicks posing provocatively with awkward slogans! There were men looking all heroic and saving the women from certain doom! THIS IS A HUGE PROBLEM!

It is probably no secret that I am a feminist! Yes! I am a card-carrying feminist! I read BUST magazines, for Pete's sake! I CANNOT HAVE A MAGAZINE WITH A SEXIST COVER! Where were all the femme fatales? Where are all the Vivian Rutledges, the Brigid O'Shaughnessys, the Mia Wallaces?! So I am going to design a cover that is NOT sexist! I will do it! I will have a cover with a badass female if it kills me!


(no subject)

Hi everybodyyyyyyy

I'm not posting as[info]penny_blood because LJ is's being stupid, alright?

(You guys did know that was me, right? I hope so...I will probably be *the magazine boss* as[info]penny_blood and story-writer girl as[info]scuba_dooba...because life is too short to be simple).

 Anyway, my point.

Because summer is coming to a close in the not-so-distant future (you have no idea how much it pains me to say that...), I've decided that we really need to get our butts in gear. So,[info]a_penny_blood minions users, these are the things you have to do:

1) help me make a FAQ page! ([info]mistyeyedreamer has already asked several questions that compose the current FAQ list). ASK ME QUESTIONS! SPAM ME! PLEASE! I AM ENTIRELY TOO...FREE AT THE MOMENT, WITH AP ENGLISH BOOKS TO READ!
2) send me stories! We've already got some fabulous entries (mine will be coming eventually...someday...I've just been sort of...busy lately...), if you're keeping up, but we want a LOT of stories so we can vote which ones get in!
3) tell me when you want to have our *first meeting*! what days work for you? There are only a few days in August (most of them in the next week or so) that I'm completely swamped...and the first issue probably won't come out 'til October/November, so we've got a lot of time...but tell me anyway!
4) Help me decide on what the logo/cover(s)/feautres will be/look like. Since this magazine is my tribute to the penny dreadfuls/pulp magazines of the past, I'd like it to look like the penny dreadfuls/pulp magazines of the past. We'll probably talk about this at the meeting.

Examples of penny dreadful/pulp fiction covers:

And, of course:

5)  Uh...once again...HELP ME CHOOSE A DATE FOR THE FIRST MEETING! (see #3!) I'd like to have a sleepover at my house before the end of the summer, so we could make it a meeting/end of summer party/thing?

 Please keep the love alive!

Peace out!~




This is so much better than Twilight.


You’re in a rut.

You’ve done nothing, and you’re going nowhere.

No friends, no drive, no dreams.

You’re just going through the motions.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

In your own still, gray prison you’ve woven

Out of your own webs.

There is only nothing.


You need a change.




Wait until nightfall.

Go to the dark side of town.

Find the well-dressed man with the crimson lips and the wild eyes.

Look him carefully in the eyes.

Tell him you want to taste the night’s embrace

And have her secrets flow inside you.

Remember the drives that really matters:

Feed. Mate. Kill.



Hold out your neck.

(Or wrist, it doesn’t really matter.)


It will hurt, oh yes.

Needles of knowledge and power rushing towards your heart.

Don’t fight it. Give in.

(It always hurts the first time.)

Awaken from your sleep

And rise

A new creature

Born of blood and passion.

You will be changed.

You will be strong, fast, beautiful.

And thirsty.

Very thirsty.

Your mate will smile, and take your hand.

Run, and feast.

A bloody baptism.

Through this death, you’re born again.







You’re free.


screwdriver doctor
Tears soak your shirt
as I clutch at the fabric
desperate to know you'll be okay

My body is frozen,
unable to move. Unable to speak.
My eyes, glassy and wide, are blind.

This disease inside you,
it makes me shake with fear.
It wreaks havoc on my soul.

He watches too,
staring helplessly at me,
a cold computer screen his only connection.

My breathing is ragged,
each intake of breath a struggle.
My mind is clouded and foggy.

The Fear courses through my system,
leaving me a victim of its paralysis.
The world settles on my shoulders, a weight none should bear.

I ache.
I claw at my face, the tears streaming down in hot rivulets.
My cheeks, red and raw, reflect my bloodshot eyes.

You clutch me closer to you,
murmuring soft words of comfort.
Shouldn't I be the one doing that?

You provide the strength that I can't find,
the ability to dry my eyes,
take a few shuddering breaths.

The day of reckoning arrives.

We wait.

We hope.

We cry, for they are tears of joy.
You are fine.
A collective sigh of relief permeates the room.

I hear your voice again.
You sound the same,
unchanged and steadfast.

You said you will never leave,
that you will be around to see your grandchildren.
You never did lie.

I love you.


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