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bad mother
The blood on the walls is not his.
Bokuto chants this to himself silently, working on his hands and knees as he tries to scrub the mess away. He's been cleaning for hours now, wiping it all away and then doing it again because he swears he can still(more)
If there's a problem
Paint over it
If you make a mistake
Paint over it
If it doesn't look right
Paint over it (more)
"This is way too much."
"Aw, Iwa-chan, don't say that. This is perfect!"
"This is /more/ than enough."
The pile of blankets surrounding them was almost as tall as the couch beside it. "I could literally drown in this and you're thinking it's enough."
"Iwa-chan! You know ho(more)
"So you tried to be brave."
"Don't look at me like that."
"You /do/ know they'll never forgive you, right?"
"Shut up."
Kuroo smirked down at Oikawa, arms crossed lazily over his chest. "You burned down all your bridges with them, pun intended."
Oikawa pulled his knees (more)
Charlie shuffled through the flea-market.  He looked up at the grey clouds and mused that a cliche novel would say "the sky echoed his sullen mood".  He found himself in the far back of the damp field where the small-time vendors had set up shop.  Some of the tents were already vacant. (more)
The vet's injection took hold and my bird died in my hand. Her stillness changed from struggling-sick to gone-elsewhere. Her black eyes winced shut.  

This was the exact thing I spent her whole life protecting her from, but now I had bought and paid for it. She had(more)
the remnants of the person I was,
slip through my fingertips
like feathers coursing in the wind.

the more I try to capture the ghost,
the foggier the mist becomes (more)
The remnants of lace kept piling up. No one would buy the last bits not after the rumors started making the rounds. The rumors about what was left behind. The rumors started by the cloth makers about what was left behind. Propagated by the senseless widowers that the remnants(more)
"The pens," he said.
"Pens? Why?" she asked, perplexed.
"Oh you are more stupid than I think if you thought an enchanter need a.... what was that? Oh, magic wand to make spells," he said, barely contained the disdain from his voice.
Im in a war. I am losing the war, I can only lose this war. When I lose this war I will lose myself. These thoughts consume me, they consume my soul, my heart, my actions, and my life. I am being eaten alive by my own mind. I(more)
"It's been haunting me," says Alexi, scribbling dark charcoal outlines down the side of the sketchpad. "For years. This dream." Her hands are shaking and her face is pale.

Her mother is bent over paperwork at her desk, and does not look up. "The one with the door?(more)
we died first in small ways: where the tramping of our boots morphed into a hollow sound, curling beneath our ribs, unlucky, undeserved, until the darkness came and the blood dried-- sprayed across faces and hands, mouths painted red --beneath our nails, beneath our eyes, underneath our very skin,(more)
"Tell me what they mean," Oikawa asks, curled up against Iwaizumi in the bed. "The marks?"

Iwaizumi holds his left arm out, where the traces of his magic story-tattooing powers first begun. "See the stars?" he asked, wiggling his thumb where the black ink was disturbed only(more)
With a sword in my gut, I crawl up the mountain of life.
Breathing is forgotten when the crimson liquid of life leaks from my womb. I shall arise from the shadows and make my way towards the light. Prayers from pure hearts and a caring mind gather 'roun(more)
A thousand years of snow
rain down in the crystalline globe
of your static family tree
singing please release me

A thousand beers ago (more)