
It was on a Spring Afternoon, Chapter one Wanataru was tired of Hottataru moping around all day. All the kid did anymore was sit in his room! For being the twin of the second happiest creator alive, Hottataru sure was an emotional little thing. Of course, when Wanataru looked at his family members, siblings usually acted nothing like one another. Look at Necromonger, for example, the man was the most melancholy bump on the log he’d ever seen, while Wanataru himself was a ball of sexual energy. And Zeon, the last of the awkward triplets of the creators, well, she was a bit of a pain in the ass, neck, and every other part of the body that she could break if she got the chance. BIt was on a Spring Afternoon, Chapter one by ~KairaFrostfang

when writers cryAwake on strong, black coffee drinkswhen writers cry by ~TheLaughingDreamer
Words on paper, liquid ink
Dreams of pen tips, future lies
Tragic stories, quotes of the wise
Nights have carved their dark, deep valleys
In the hollows of my eyes
For you see, my friend, when writers cry
There are no tears, their cheeks are dry
But ink dipped fingers, worn out wrists
Chewed up nails and bloody fists
You see, it's strange when writers cry
Their hearts are true, their words don’t lie
They mourn in silence for a few days
Of paper cuts and tear-less haze
Of coffee mugs and smoky paper
Liquid spills, and water vapor
Sorry dreams and wasted hours
Putrid smells and dying flowers
(Torn
