Haruka Shimotsuki/tieLeaf’s New Album and some other ramblings

It seems nobody (except maybe some people on discussion forums) are talking about Haruka Shimotsuki’s new albums (her doujin albums specifically). I guess I’ll have to be that person that informs the general audience of her stuff.

I’m a big Shimotsuki fan. Been one since I was 13. I want to help fans old and new find her stuff in one simple place. You ready? Let’s go!

  • Recent 10th anniversary stuff: Shimotsuki recently had an anniversary tour. With it she released 3 albums that are compilations of her past popular songs from games, anime and doujin works. You can see this stuff on her website where she has Amazon.jp links.
  • Another Flower 2: this release is her second collaboration with Absolute Castaway. I was expecting at least one jazzy song from the album but if I remember correctly there wasn’t:/
  • Butterfly and Lanje Compilations: nothing new to see here! These albums are compilations. I think there might be (1) new song. I can’t remember. These are still cool to have if you’re a collector of her music. (I prefer having individual albums/singles too bc album art!!! and instrumentals :D)
  • un secret: this is a single for a video game. It’s also part of the 10th anniversary event.
  • Kingdom of the Fallen Wings / Tsubasa Furu no Okoku (翼の降る王国): this is the one I’m most excited about. Despite it not sounding like tieLeaf’s first album (and all of Shimotsuki’s old stuff which combined synths and fantasy sounds) I’m still excited for it. It’s album cover is nice and features a character from a previous tieLeaf release (it was 捻子巻く月vol.0/Neji Maku Tsuki Vol. 0). This is the album cover:


Isn’t it pretty? Click the image to view full size! This is its website: http://nejimaku.com/sp/tsubasa/index.html

After listening to the samples, it sounds exactly like shimotsuki’s new stuff, which I find slightly disapointing. ever since Lip Aura her doujin music all sounds the same and uses the same instruments: studio drums, violin, piano, a bass with a specific sound and a guitar. It’s nice and all but every song sounds like this. The reason why i liked Lanje (the first single) was because it had none of those. It sounded like her old music from her beginning years (Ashiato Rhythm, Maple Leaf Box, her works with Kukui). Back in the day her music had a fantasy/medieval sound that wasn’t restricted to just those instruments. She used electronic and ethereal sounds very well that it sounded like music you’d hear in …a video game? I don’t know.

Nowadays her musical sounds are restricted to those same instruments I listed above. Listen to Tsukioi no Toshi and her latest Lag Quara album. I noticed her style changed around Lip Aura. Perhaps she loved the sound of that album? Surprisingly, Lip aura had the fantasy and ethereal sounds of her older music (fantasy drums were especially present in its second song on the album).

Crap, I think I’ve done enough rambling. Despite all of that I love her new music. I just wish she’d go back to the old style of her older works. I hope to God/Jesus she hasn’t outgrown that phase. If you listen to Arculd by LUNA*RUMA you’ll notice their sound is EXACTLY like Haruka shimotsuki’s old music. I’ll try to upload that one on YouTube for fans to enjoy because I’m not sure it can be found anywhere.

We’re pretty much at the end of the new album stuff. I like tracks 3, 5 and 6 on her new tieLeaf album. It has a tin flute and I think I hear some fantasy druuuuums😀

Sorry I rambled so much about her music. I might make a separate post for that. I just wanted to share info about her new stuff so anyone who doesn’t know Japanese and live on a discussion forum can know what’s going on. I plan on making a post like this for Rekka Katakiri and maybe other rare artists I like.

Thanks for reading!
~ Poni


This This THIS. It is important.

Writing While Human

I’m going to say something, and it is astounding to me that this is controversial: creative people should be paid for their work.

Writers. Artists. Speakers. Bloggers. Film makers. Sculptors. Musicians. Graphic designers. Actors. Directors. Set designers. Textile artists. Landscapers. All of them.

I’ve heard the most assinine reasons given for why these people should NOT be paid. Most of the time it’s “exposure!” Translation: everyone will see your work here and will want to hire you for other work! Which is ridiculous, because no other industry works like that. Imagine seeing these ads …

“Design a database for one of our clients and you’ll be added to our list of database developers. Our website sees tons of traffic, and they will all see your name! EXPOSURE!”

“Teach in our school for a semester and parents will be clamoring for their school to hire you for real! EXPOSURE!”

“Work for…

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Flash Fiction Time: Diamond Boy

I’m back with another flash story! It’s not for a weekly event or anything. It’s for a book I want to do called Eden. The writing prompt I used is “she sings” from a list of 400 prompts but I changed it to “he sings.” As always if you enjoy this, like and comment. Also support me on Patreon. You could name a character for a story! ^.^

The diamonds around his neck were the pride and joy of 55 Cancrie. Although worthless on Earth they were special to him for their beauty.

Whenever he danced in the club of the future he always wore multi-colored jewelry to give himself extra allure–extra POP!

Emeralds, Rubies, Lapis, Rose Quartz and even a few colored diamonds alongside the pure ones; he’d wear more than just those

He’d wear any gem that pleased his fashion senses but he always had a diamond visible somewhere on his body.

Diamond, Diamond, Diamond!

Oh, Cancrie, how I love you!

When a trader bought a red diamond to him for inspection he couldn’t help but blush at the sight of the pure gem. Impure or not, the diamond always had a place in his heart. He fashioned it onto his necklace and shone it to the light. Even it agreed the diamond was beautiful because the dimond’s red lights reflected beautifully on the wall.

“Even the world’s most worthless diamonds hold value in my eyes,” he held his necklace up to the sky and exhaled while nostalgic memories were uprooted. “If it sparkles and shines beautifully, it’s mine.”
He danced longer than usual tonight. Twirls, leaps, a few ballet moves and a few dirty ones were the crux of his performance. The red diamond sparkled and dangled as he moved. It swished about and klacked against the other diamonds it was nestled with on the necklace.
He could hear them chanting his name as he made every move

Rinaldo! Rinaldo! Rinaldo! Rinaldo!

He was so happy that he felt like he was on cloud 9

Or even better! Heaven!

The diamond was happy too.

If you look closely you’ll see it glow a little bit.

He felt the diamond’s happiness; it added considerably to his own

All of this was like a gematic climax
At the end of his performance he bowed to the audience.

They showed their admiration by throwing flowers and money onto the stage.

He collected them all and proceeded into the back room.

He took a moment to catch a breather

His gem was cooling down too. It’s glow was slowly dimming.
Gently he placed his hand upon his necklace of diamonds. He closed his eyes and breathed three words of appreciation to it–specifically the red one.
“Thank you, dear.”

“Anytime.” It responded back through feelings. “Let’s do this again! That was fun.”

“Don’t worry. We have plenty more years of this ahead for us.”

All things don’t end happily.

If he hadn’t been stabbed in the back by a barbed sword, he might’ve celebrated tonight by watching a movie with his gems.

The last words he heard were “Die.”



He collapsed onto the floor with his gems. Even in death he wouldn’t let them go because he knew he’d be back.

Still, it hurts to be stabbed out of spite.

Who did this? It’s all he wanted to know.

Before closing his eyes to rest he recited his words to the trader and many other people who asked about his beautiful collection of gems.
“If it sparkles and shines…it’s mine.”

Author Notes/Context: the fact that the boy, Rinaldo, is a dancer is my showing of how I want more boys in girlish roles. Rinaldo is also Ashuton’s son and he has his own blog! Prodigaldragon.wordpress.com

I plan on illustrating this for now but until then, have the boy in the featured image as Rinaldo’s face claim. I think some of you might think this story has references to Steven Universe and it does! There’s only one reference though: Lapis and Rose. The rest of this is not SU-inspired. I think it’s cute though if you think of Rinaldo’s diamonds as part of the Diamond Authority.

The Past is Our Road to the Future

In my time on the internet I have seen many things, learned many things, made mistakes and embarrassed the f*ck out of myself without realizing it until now.

As embarrassing as my old comments, posts and the like we’re, I can’t change them. I can’t change the fact that I used my name, wrote stories that were a little messy and threw them out unto the world. I can’t change that I was protective over my favorite roleplayers/writers (maybe a little too protective). They’re just humans like I am. No matter how amazing the writing, I shouldn’t have put them on a pedestal in my head. I can’t change that now. I can’t change that I was crazy when playing Dragons of Atlantis, either.

I can’t change that I made a ton of accounts because I was scared of people attacking me online. Now I have thick skin and words will slide off because I know my worth (I hope).

All I can do is start fresh—WITH MY SAME NAME—and stop changing because of a fear sitting in the back of my head. With God on my side I shouldn’t have anything to fear. I can write my fan fiction and my actual work in peace. My internet past is with me, yes, but it is not who I am today. I didn’t do anything bad or awful, thank god. I was just messy with everything. MESSY. I cleaned up my messy profiles and stuff as best as I could. What matters now is the future, not the messy book promotions I posted or the messy bios or accidentally attaching a weird name to fan fiction.

What matters now is the future.

I’m going to be less and give more words. I will write and share more of what I want to write. Starting with my wattpad.

I’ve revamped it to prodigaldragon but I’m keeping my older stories on there. I also revamped my Twitter: @thedragonchild, instead of using a new one. I am in the process of revamping all my stories on Smashwords and putting them back out there. This includes older ones that were unpublished. After that I will head to Amazon and fix what’s broken there, too. The same for Goodreads. As for socialness, I’ll only be sticking to this blog, Twitter and maybe Facebook. Being on this blog makes it easier to socialize with fans. As you’ve already noticed I revamped this blog. It’s quite refreshing to revamp and still have a bit of my old self. Like, “hey, I came from there.” Maybe a young author in the future will be like me: messy with their online life. She or he ours learn from my experience. 

I’m glad to have you guys, my loyal followers, with me on this journey. Thank you so much for being with me! And thank you so much for not judging me!

My Bloody Little Kitty – A Story that Needs to Come Back

Going back to Wattpad today had the unexpected re-emergence of an old fond memory. Back when I was a budding teen author before I spent my hiatus on Instagram I was an avid user of Quotev and Wattpad. I didn’t use Quotev for long since I disliked the clunky interface but the site does have a (small) place in my heart. It introduced me to the only Internet-posted original fiction story that I’d ever read in full (or in its case, up to the chapter before it was deleted).

That story is My Bloody Little Kitty.

Fuck, even the name makes me want to read some emo stories in hopes of finding one like that.

Yes the story had problems that some stories written by teens have (like word play or in some places a dry use of words) but it flowed nicely! Flow is incredibly important and the flow and pacing of the story is what kept me hooked. There weren’t a lot of useless descriptions either. It was straight and to-the-freaking-point. It flowed well.

My problem with most books is they take their sweet-ass time on descriptions and shit (excuse my French!) but not Meghan’s story. It was to the point, descriptions were minimal but you are able to visualize things. The chapters are short too which is good for someone like me: a person who clicks out with long stuff. The whole story was amazing and lusty and, if I remember correctly, sweet.

Meghan wrote a gem.

I loved Parker, the red-head Sawyer and the green-haired Wolf. I loved Sawyer’s protective possessiveness over Parker. I love the love triangle that was being set up before our eyes and threatened to break apart the Sawyer X Parker ship.

Then, one day, the story was gone.

Gone. Deleted.

Meghan’s profile was deleted too.

I lamented and hoped Meghan would return. It’s been 3 years and she hasn’t. The story was reposted on Wattpad by someone else but only the first two chapters are there. I and (after reading the comments on Wattpad) many others want this story to return. I personally don’t care if it’s unable to be completed. Don’t stress yourself if you lost interest, Meghan. I want all 21 (or 23?) chapters and any unfinished chapters to be posted back on the internet again so I can read it and enjoy it. If you finish it that makes it even better.

Meghan, if you’re reading this, please please PLEASE bring this story back. If you’re afraid to, use a pen name and pretend you know the author! It’s better to be yourself though because your fans outnumber the haters.

If you know Meghan could you please pass this onto her? I’m praying for this story’s return. Is she well?? Is she still alive?

If you are her parents, your daughter is a wonderful writer!!

Meghan, if you’re considering turning My Bloody Little Kitty into a real book through self publishing, please don’t change it too much. Don’t add words in or do those awful long rambling descriptions that authors do. Or do what you think is right.

I know there’s a remake of this story called Cheshire. I read the first chapter and it doesn’t flow as well as Meghan’s story and it has rambling descriptions in some places. I only read (or skimmed) chapter 1 and it couldn’t hold me.

Also, It changed Parker’s name to Aiden. To me that also ruined it. Names are important. Parker sounds like a baby name; a name for someone in the process of growing up. Aiden sounds like the name of someone growing up and into themselves. That name wasn’t suitable for Parker whom is basically a baby in the story. He’s so innocent and he’s still growing up.

Lastly, the picture for him didn’t fit how he acts.

I’m sure the story has some good points, though and if you’re curious go read it. I might if I can focus my attention onto it.

I want to do my own remake of My Bloody Little Kitty. When I complete some of my writing projects I totally will. Maybe I’ll even add my own characters in place of Parker, Sawyer and Wolf so I won’t lose interest in writing it. I’m thinking Sylvio, Josh and a young version of Prince Dragon will do.

Meghan, if you’re out there, please bring your story back. There are nostalgic fans dying to read it. Even if it’s the initial 21 chapters.

Please ;-;

It was at this moment Poni knew…she flucked up

Yes…I know I skipped yesterday’s story. The reason being:

a) I forgot and it was late. I don’t want to be late again.

b) I lost interest.

The last point about losing interest is important. I intended to write stories taking place in my dragon universe but somehow that didn’t happen. I needed a THEME—a single universe; like that Steven Universe fic I made. If Steven Universe was the theme I could’ve done a bunch of flash fics on that. I could’ve used prompts better. So guess what I’m doing now?

I’m going to try again next month. I will have a theme too. The stories will star characters from Syncsrithia, a m/m dragon story I’m creating. Also I’m starting Sicaria: a serial novel told through poetry. It’ll be about Sylvio and Josh (finally).

Also these stories will be going onto Wattpad. I was thinking “how do I get my stories to a wider audience???” because Facebook and Twitter don’t do a damn thing for me at the moment. Then it came to me! WATTPAD! It’s perfect❤ kinda…if I market and promote right.

So to reiterate, I’m moving next month’s flash stories and all forthcoming stories to Wattpad. My username there is thedrsgongoddess.

I’ll still post stories here but they’ll most likely be excerpts. This blog doesn’t see much action, even with me back on it, and for it to see action I need to expand my audience. Wattpad is the place for that. (It sucks a lot less than fanfiction.net).

Remember, my Wattpad is http://www.wattpad.com/thedrsgongoddess

I won’t be changing it to Oshidoshi. I like my dragon username too much.

Candy (A Flash Fic A Day #4.5)

“Hi! My name is S–!!”

“I immediately don’t care.”

Mr. Grumpy Wuss was stuck on a bullet train with a kid who never ever shut his mouth. The commute to his ten-year-old job was a long one. Long and arduous with this kid.

The boy went on and on about candy and “the joys of candy creation” and how candy was LIVING. Either this kid was high off horror video games or he was truly a nut. Mr. Grumpy Wuss was vocal about his hatred of candy.

Unhealthy, mind-controlling cholesterol-raising POISON!

Candy is not real

Candy cannot speak

Candy does not have a visage

Nor a heart.

The boy hated people like Grumpy Wuss. Candy is real.

However…those who don’t believe never truly see the Candy God’s light.

This world is nothing but candy. Soda and lollipops, gummy worms and chocolate bars. Mr. Grumpy Wuss was surrounded and forced to eat.

An old man doesn’t last long on sugar alone.

The boy’s haughty laugh echoes inside Grump Wuss’s head. An “I told you so!!” meant to poke fun at his stupidity.

Gummy worms crawl through the old man’s nose and push his eyes out.

His blood, once metallic and bland, becomes rich maple syrup that drizzles upon the ground.

His skin is now like the outer layer of those stretchy sour candies.

The green-haired boy feasts—and what a feast it is!

Context: Ugh I am almost late again. I forgot today’s story so I whipped up this quick poetic gem. The boy and Grumpy Wuss will be back again ^.^

As always, support me on Patreon if you enjoy! http://www.patreon.com/Oshidoshi

AngelCry (A flash Fic a Day #4)

Ever wonder what happens to an angel that becomes corrupted by a demon? It becomes dark—blackened beyond recognition—a heart so icy and lustful that nothing could ever come of it.

She loves me. She really loves me. It doesn’t matter what they say about the demons. She’s different.

This is what Arcändor believed. He thought the vixen he met in the Black Forest was misunderstood. He thought so many things.

When he saw her…or him…they fought, they talked and they danced among the thorny black pillars of the forest. Their dances lasted ages, to music neither of them could hear on their own.

By holding hands they could hear the song in each other’s hearts. She—or he—could hear his song. It was so pure it nearly disgusted him on the inside. The vixen, male or female, wanted this angel for herself. The vixen’s song was pure but wrapped in a bag of maggots.

There was no purity.

It was all a lie.

Arcändor is strapped into a bed. The vixen surveys his latest prey as the other demons in his horde gather ’round. They climb into the bed and begin feasting on the angel’s flesh.


Arcändor is kissed by his two-faced lover.

“It’s alright.” She (he…) says. The soft wet kiss is a blind reassurance.

“Right now, Arcä, I will make you one of us.” The vixen rides the angel gently. His soft movements give way to a single, heart-stopping feeling. Arcändor’s light huffs make vixen go faster.

His pleasure fuels the demon.

As the others feast upon him their poisoned, cream-colored saliva taints his blood. Anything angelic is stripped away


              demonic traits are plastered onto an angelic soul.

    A converted demon would be created but…Arcändor is different. He angel traits are buried deep

         retiring into the recess of sleep.

Arkändor loves the vixen’s wiles

       —the way he (she?) moves and how he (she?) feels on the inside. It’s almost holy (unholy…)

Arcändor’s golden eyes become shimmering red. The blood of demons rushes to his head and clouds his vision. A million screams swirl around, sounds spiraling like a spinning wheel, until it all becomes clear.

He feels their hive-like structure. He is connected to the High Demon.

       (Heaven will never welcome him back unless he repents)

Arcändor pushed his lover down and takes over. Deep inside h realizes the mistake he has made. He isn’t a true angel anymore. He was fooled—played like a fiddle

        by this slutty boy;


The deep anger he feels comes out as hatred. It bleeds through the hard, pounding movements as he angrily fucks this vixen into exhaustion.

“s-someone’s hungry.” The vixen laughs as he’s uncomfortably hit by Arcändor’s hard thrusts.

Arcändor’s only response is a heavy growl of a phrase.

“Shut up.”

The other demons, crawling on all fours, take a step back as they feel Arcändor’s anger. It hits them like a cloud and weighs them down with fear. Threats of death linger over them and they hate it.

Arcändor bites into vixen’s neck with his new set of demon fangs.


Vixen screams in pain as a chunk is shredded

     A chunk of glesh is RIPPED and PULLED until it is separated from his body.

The demons are in shock.

Arcändor swallows it whole. The unnatural flesh burns his throat but fuck if he cares. It doesn’t matter anymore.

He looks down at vixen. The demomboy’s eyes are glistening

Tear moisted


Arcändor mutters only one word.


Context: I thought I could fit another story, an original one this time, but the clock already reached 12 AM. *le sigh*

I saw the picture of the angel boy and immediately knew what I wanted to write. The prompt I used is by Nancy Stohlman:

“13: Write a story that deals with or includes some aspect of a taboo.”

I figured “how about a demon turning an angel?” At first I actually wanted vixen to have remorse but we all know demons aren’t capable of that on their own. Plus it’s a cliche. I still want to avoid those. 

As always if you enjoyed support me on Patreon: http://www.patreon.com/Oshidoshi

It’s Alright (A Flash Story A Day #3)

It was scary and rainy outside. The rushing water beats upon the old windows with such ferocity that it sounds like an invasion of bullets.

The little girl is afraid. She holds onto Toy Chica’s plastic arm tightly. The animatronic does not move. The only thing she does is huff. The girl is okay with that. It means Chica is living—Chica is real.

“My friends aren’t coming back.” She says. “I know they’re dead.”

There’s slight movement in Chica’s arm. The words “friends” and “dead” triggers her in such a way that anger resurfaces, makes her tick.

She utters something. For the first time in years the raspy voice of the spirit speaks. “We have something in common. My friends died too.”

“Maybe you’ll meet them one day.” The girl responds. “I know I’ll be meeting mine soon.”

The footsteps draw near. The Purple Man is hungry and dying for a new treat. The girl is perfect—fresh and young.

He spots her near Chica. She’s holding onto the animatronic like a babe holds onto its mother.

Chica is ready to battle. To save this little girl she is prepared to go to war against this man.

“It’s alright.” She says. “I won’t fail to protect you.”

Context: I almost missed today’s story so I decided today’s flash fic will be a fanfic. I’m better at writing those currently until I fully get “back into” my space dragon world.
The art is by Adry53. It’s lovely!

Over-It: Overwatch is Overstrike Reborn (Not Really but Hear Me Out)

In the world of video games, there are the companies that take risks and the companies that keep doing what they’re doing because they’re afraid to leap. There are also the companies in-between that do what they’re told or do whatever the fuck they want (excuse my French).

In the case of Insomniac, they did what they were told and it cost them (and us gamers) what could’ve been a damn good video game.



Insomniac’s Overstrike was rebranded, re-skinned and basically restructured because it was too cartoony. It was also renamed Fuse. The result we got was the somewhat terrible, military-standard game called Fuse that tried to replicate the military vibe that all other shooter games give off (like CoD, Army of Two, all those Tom Clancy games, Spec Ops: The Line etc). I haven’t played Fuse but I did enjoy the demo a little bit. I just wish it had that cartoony style. I and plenty of others were disappointed at the change. It had so much potential, cartoony or not.


OVERWATCH is cartoony as fluck. It looks like Pixar amped up its tactics and made a shooter. It has plenty of characters that are cartoony but each of them have heart and depth. You can’t simply judge them by how cartoony they look. OVERWATCH looks like what Overstrike could have been. Look at the trailer with the two boys and the characters! There’s a freaking Gorilla for god’s sake!!!!!! OVERWATCH has gained plenty of fans and people love it’s cartoony Pixar style.

Do you see this, Insomniac? You didn’t have to listen to the higher ups (or maybe you had to for legal reasons). You could have made Overstrike into the game you wanted. If it’s possible, you could still do it. At this point you could even sell the IP if you don’t want anything to do with it (which would be a shame since its your game).

This is also a lesson to all creative people. Do something you want to do. Create the way you want. If you have to “go indie” just to do that then it’s worth it. It’ll be harder to promote yourself without all that corporate money backing you but you’ll be staying true to yourself. Let the beauty of OVERWATCH and the (still possible) dream of Overstrike serve as a real life lesson.

Stay true to you.

Initialize (A Flash Story a Day #2)

He expected the weird food cravings, the mood swings and other things human females are plagued with during pregnancy. Rinaldo was carrying his first egg and yet…he wasn’t struck with the weird symptoms of pregnancy like he expected. He was moody, yes, but he wasn’t craving any strange food. What came with the pregnancy was the intense pain in his entire lower body. He could hardly walk. Each step triggered jolts of pain that ripped through his body in burning rage. Rinaldo brushed his hair back as he tried focusing on the book he was reading. He hated books but it’s the only thing nearby. The pain starts to attack him while he’s immobile.


He rocks back and forth thinking that’ll ease the sharp stabbing pains in his sides.

It doesn’t.

His nimble hands tremble when turning the page as his lithe body shivers with anxiety.

All this pain

All this hurt

and for what? One egg?

It’s worth it. He’s convinced himself it’s worth it.
Later in the day the pain intensifies so much that he is rendered motionless.


His abdomen is pummeled by a strange poking feeling. His sides feel as if they’re stabbed repeatedly. On top of that he feels like he’s going to give birth to a rock out of his ass!

He’s suffering alone. He doesn’t know what to do.

Well his body has had enough suffering. Without warning it shifts into his dragon form. It’s quick and painless. The awful feelings that plagued his human form had faded away slowly. It was such a relief!

Now that he was his dragonself it is easier to push the egg out. It takes effort but after a few pushes he is able to get that thing out.

He’s made a bloody mess in his uncle’s bathroom but at least the egg is birthed and safe. Rinaldo, unable to move and switch back, protectively lays with his egg. He’ll move once his body heals. His egg takes high priority. It must stay warm and in his company. The hatchling inside needs his warmth and love to grow.

He’ll NEVER let it out of his sight.


Context: this is for Initialize; a short collection abooooout—guess what?—MALE PREGNANCYYYYY. Before you go “EWWWWWW” it’s not standard male pregnancy. Think SEAHORSES. It’s about how male dragons give birth to the egg. It’s not about male humans giving birth to actual babies. That shit sounds like it hurts like a motherfucker >.<
I almost didn’t make it for today’s flash story thing. What happened today? I was busy listening to Shimotsuki albums while being uncomfortable. I also got super tired.
Oh hey, the boy in the featured image isn’t Rinaldo but he’s close to how Rinaldo looks.

In Triola, love is not lost (A Flash Fiction A Day #1)

Atop the highest hill in Triola; Sylvio, Josh, Sylvio’s mother Narcissus and her protecter Argolon sit in silence to enjoy the view. Even Talkven is there with them. He’s busy making Narcissus and Argolon sip tea with him.
Sylvio and Josh sit away from them. Together they watch the clouds as they sit side-by-side. Sylvio rests his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder while Josh keeps his eyes on the sky (but occasionally acknowledges his boyfriend with a loving smile).

Despite the harsh circumstances Sylvio found peace in Triola. He desired to live here forever but not in the grasp of that man.

Right now he doesn’t think about him. He thinks only about his mother and true love: Josh. There’s a world of comfort in Josh and Sylvio is eager to protect it.

“Look at the clouds.” He says to Josh. “They’re so pretty.”


Josh feels Sylvio’s hand covering his. For this moment of peace there is a feeling of being on Cloud 9. Sylvio’s hand tightens a bit, because he doesn’t want to let go.



Author Notes: I had to wait 6 days to post this because each time it was evening or later when I wanted to share it =_=

This story is about Ashuton and Narcissus’s son Sylvio. I’m glad I finally get to do a story with him. I’ve crafted a long complex storyline for him. I told myself that the day I write about Ashuton’s children it would be the most exciting day in TSODR history.

That day has come.

(I’m still kinda mad at myself that it took so long xc )

Always remember to support me on Patreon! ^.^ you could get a character featured in a flash story: http://www.patreon.com/oshidoshi

The Painter (Poetry)

Swish, swish, the brush goes
Swish and swish and swish
When there is no more ink
–No more inspiration,
the brush becomes a knife
and the paint becomes blood.

Ohhhh, you did not deserve this
A victim of a man’s unspoken public crime
He needed to paint, he wanted to paint
Inspiration had gone but he thought–

He thought he’d make a painting of you.

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