#Hey here she is!!

[drreamgirls]

‣✽.  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

MIZUMI (currently ACTIVE) & ISABELLE

MIZU

basics:

full name:  Mizumi Uzui (Caddel) nicknames:  Mizu gender: genderfluid  female sexuality: lesbian pronouns:  she/her aesthetics: I'm only happy when I am on the run, I don't belong to anyone; turns herself into a weapon; the smell of gunpowder and whiskey on the tongue, distant thunder crackling like electricity, blood on your lips,  the soundless running of fingers through her lover’s hair in the dark, a woman held underwater, screaming. age:  30 date of birth: December 21 zodiac sign:  sagittarius residence:  manhattan occupation:  boxing / Kendo instructor (in reality: paid assassin involved in various underground illegal organisations)

appearance:

faceclaim: Mylène Jampanoï height:  1,78 ethnicity: half japanese, half American. build:  toned and muscled, tall and very athletic. biceps all hard with muscle and legs for days eyes: blue hair:  dark brown / wolfcut (wears her hair cropped short) piercings:  0 tattoos:  an X mark and 3 dots on her forearm / sprawling tiger tat on her back style:  excessively masculine, jeans, sleek black suits and white shirts, tank tops and sports bras with low cut jeans. shades on all the time, day and night, leather jackets, combat boots. voice: very deep and rough, like smoking bourbon and thunder.

personality:

traits:  ruthless, unpleasant, bitter, unfriendly, angry 80 per cent of the time. cold, stoic and sarcastic. doesn't give a fuck about you or what you think. loyal. selfish. obsessive. unpredictable. sharply witty and funny. mental health: completely obsessive. major anger issues. physical health:  always bruised up for some reason... (reasons in her bio) likes: music, boxing/kendo/swords/guns. sports. extreme sports. motorcycles and she only rides japanese bikes. dislikes:  talking to people. cooking. fears:  failure phobias:  fire hobbies:  Kendo, fencing, working out, motorbikes skills:  she is extremely athletic. skilled with guns and swords; kendo and box are her lifeline. speaks several languages. quirks:  Always wears her shades even when it's dark outside, she'll take them with her; does not drink. does not smoke. perpetually snarling. pet peeves:  people.

faves:

ice cream flavour: she doesn't like ice cream. she likes lemon sorbet. time of the day / night:  night weather:  fog breakfast food:  hot tea and rice dinner food:  ramen or soba. probably instant unless her girl cooks colours:  blue and black songs:  Paul Wallen feat. Gigi Nally - Smells Like Teen Spirit

other random stuff:

a cherished item:  the amethyst ring isabelle (her partner) gave her. her mother's silk blue scarf which she has given to isabelle. usual mood: pissed off 1 thing they want to do / experience before they die: hurt the people who hurt her family defining moments:  her mother's violent death/murder / her house burning down / losing her entire life in the blink of an eye. & meeting her girfriend.

ISABELLE

basics:

full name:  Isabelle Annesley nicknames:  Belle & Elle gender:  female pronouns:  she/her aesthetics: a venus fly trap closing around its prey, lipstick stains on your collar, leaving red kisses and confusion everywhere you go, watching dusk break into dawn from the small of your window, a lingering whiff of expensive perfume, cold hands, needing perfection, the way light hits cascading velvet. the desperate search for love. age:  28 date of birth: 17/11 zodiac sign:  scorpio residence:  staten island  (in a small flat) occupation:  photographer / part-time waitress

appearance:

faceclaim:  janet montgomery height:  1,68 build:  slim & delicate, she did ballet growing up but hasn't in years eyes: black, bright, tender eyes hair:  long full ebony curls that she's recently cut a bit shorter piercings:  just her ears tattoos:  stars on her wrist style:  jeans & silk shirts, layered necklaces, excessively tightened belts, thigh high boots, loose frothy shirts. always silver and not gold.

personality:

traits:  spiteful, vindictive, arrogant, extremely neurotic, sacrastic / exceedingly witty, charming, loving, passionate. pride issues. easily provoked & annoyed. mysterious & aloof mental health:  hanging in there in spite of the fierce stress of it all. her photography cures her crippling, strange melancholia. the kind of girl to say she's okay when she's not because no one will see her be anything less than perfectly strong & poised. daddy issues galore. quite depressed. physical health:  feeling kind of perpetually tired. likes:  photography, painting, art, the sunset, her sister; car rides with her listening to music, trips to the beach in the winter where everything is quiet and grey-silver and they can read and light a fire and be at peace. dislikes  everything that does not mean something to her. people. liars. lack of control over every aspect of her life. fears:  death, loneliness, loss phobias:  deep water & the dark (she always sleeps with some kind of light shining faintly somewhere in her room) hobbies:  she likes to paint and work with ceramics. her photography of course. skills:  being able to open a beer bottle with her teeth, of course. (photography, painting, enduring Fools and their Stupidity. Exceptional at pool and an amazing kisser.) quirks:  Always wears her mother's amethyst ring; can smell her before you see or hear her: she smells extremely deliciously. Short-tempered, especially when irritated. Almost never wears a bra. Perpetual smirk. Smokes menthol cigs. pet peeves:  people. more seriously; people who are one-uppers. loud voices. Lack of an Oxford comma. Justice for the Oxford comma!

family:

mother dead in a car accident / father absent, has disappeared & made himself a new family, a second chance at getting it right / she's got a 12 year old sister (Chloe) whom she's been raising after turning 18 & adores / much loved aunt (dad's side, who had been the proverbial scapegoat of the Annesley family) who helps as much as she can.

faves:

ice cream flavour:  strawberry & vanilla time of the day / night:  night weather:  moody rain to match her soul breakfast food:  black coffee with cream, no sugar dinner food:  dessert colours:  black & white songs:  bang bang - Nancy Sinatra

other random stuff:

a cherished item:  her mom's old vintage camera & her mom's amethyst ring usual mood: apathetically impassive and detached. Sufferer of chronic, resting bitch face. Optimistic despite all appearances. 1 thing they want to do / experience before they die: to be important to someone (surprise surprise). A family. defining moments:  her mother's death, her father's absence, becoming her sister's guardian, moving to New York hoping for something better for the both of them and to be near her aunt.

‣✽ BIOGRAPHY HERE ! (ISABELLE)

‣✽ BIOGRAPHY HERE ! (MIZUMI)

[electoons]

oh m-...ahhh...my pockages

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[tagerrkix]

Eden was their ✨disney princess era✨

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Not beating the allegations.

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[rhupi]

Team minato but rin and obito swap roles

Besties SWAP AU

Edit: forgor to add this

[aestheticallynotdeerlightful]

Thoughts and doodles

.

(Please do not use, or repost my works anywhere without explicit permission from me thank you <3)

[jpg-of-dorian-slay]

no bc jackie wanted to be loved so badly and she cared so much for everyone on her team, she did their face paint and misty's makeup and tried to boost morale and she loves shauna so fucking much and they exiled her and they left her outside and she froze to death. they literally froze her out. i'm genuinely never getting over her death bc she did not deserve that and all they would have had to do was ask her to come inside and if shauna was just like "hey i love you i'm sorry" she would have come inside. SHE WOULD HAVE COME INSIDE GUYS.

[little-pondhead]

DP x DC Prompt

…

There are no more heroes.

Well, okay. Rewind a bit.

Danny has been doing the hero thing for a while now. He’s had a big reveal; everyone has accepted him (including his parents), the GIW disbanded, the Anti-Ecto acts repealed, and generally, everything is going great. Some of the A-Listers are even training as junior ghost hunters to help give him a break from his rogues! (Being Ghost King makes things hectic sometimes, and he just needs the extra help. Sue him!)

The point is, literally nothing is wrong with Danny Phantom’s afterlife.

And then Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, disappears in front of his eyes.

Danny is baffled! She’s just…gone! Valerie just popped out of existence, like she was never there. But no matter how hard he searches in the Ghost Zone, he can’t find her soul anywhere. His core isn't broken in grief. So she’s not dead. Which is good. So then, where is she?

Some of the others come forward with ideas on how to find her. A few ghosts volunteer to go out into the mortal realm, an area Danny had declared off-limits, to see if she was out there. Danny approves it. He rounds up some of the friendlier (i.e., discreet) ghosts and Amity Parkers and demolishes the outside travel ban.

So everyone spreads out, looking for their dear frenemy and teammate. But it becomes apparent very quickly that something is wrong with the rest of the world.

There are no more heroes.

Every single living superhero on the face of the Earth has just…vanished. Villains are running amok; the countries are in chaos! Some aliens are invading Earth, mythical deities are trying to take over, and society is crumbling to the ground. Everything is on the brink of collapse.

Well, Danny was still there. And so were his people. They were pretty spread out, so could they just…take up the mantles? He also knew where to find the souls of dead heroes in the Zone; surely they wouldn't mind coming out of retirement for a little bit, especially if they couldn't die again. Oh! And that skeleton army leftover from Pariah Dark's reign might be useful in repelling those invading forces.

Honestly, there were more than enough hands to go around! And with the heroes gone, Danny didn't mind letting everyone out for a little break, as long as they followed his rules. They wouldn't stop the search for the other heroes, but hopefully, when they found them, the heroes wouldn't mind Danny's intervention too much. :)

In other words:

Someone fucks up, and all of Earth's living heroes are either wished out of existence or are whisked away to some far-off realm where Danny hasn't checked yet. In the attempt to figure out what's going on, Danny lets the dead run amok over the Earth as they search for clues. The skeleton army repels the invading armies, the souls of dead heroes deal with the world leaders, and his rogues and other Amity Parkers set up shop in place of famous heroes, trying to get the cities under control again.

Basically, they just do their best to keep everything from imploding until the Justice League and others are back.

(And why is it that Danny hasn't disappeared? Well, whatever caused everyone to go poof! only affected living heroes. Anyone heroes that were dead in the first place, or even just half-dead, stayed behind.)

[nattikay]

[luc3ks]

just cast the fire spell. dip shit

[infernal-lamb]

the lamb: yall mind if i explode into tentacles

havin a little fun with the lamb and potential tentacle body horror because i think sometimes they should be gross. why SHOULDN'T these God creatures be an affront to the nature of creation

[fuckmeyer]

if smeyer wasn't a coward vamp!Bella would have immediately eaten her daughter Rensesmem whole-hog like Saturn Devouring His Son

[inkskinned]

i wrote an interactive poem for my girlfriend in 3 parts. she said you need to read it.

go here: take only the final quiz or take all 3. i don't mind. it's sad, though. this is a poem about choice. about fate and mental illness and how love fits inside of all of it. this is a poem about a long dark hallway. mostly this is a poem about mango sushi rolls.

good luck. i love you. despite it all, i'm hopeful.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

EDYN TIDESTRIDER, CHALLENGER OF THE UNDERSEA, RIVAL OF THE DEEP. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOUR BROTHER WAS CHOSEN TO BE A WEAPON OF THE GODS? HOW WILL YOU UNDO WHAT THEY HAVE DONE TO HIM?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sublime Equine.

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