#dark rambles

[darkstalker1247]

I didn’t tell you guys who I’m gonna get to dress as for an event at school tomorrow did I

[darkmuffinstudios]

Do you ever think that like whenever Killer and Cross are lying in bed together, that Killer would reach out to Cross's chest and touch it-

And feel the warmth that came from his SOUL, feel the thrum of his soul-beat through his ribs?

And just lay there, on his side, just feeling that steady pulse and listening to the quiet sounds of them breathing?

And then quietly make the comment that they sort of matched? That Cross and Killer were so much alike, yet so, so insanely different?

And when Cross quietly asks what he means by that, Killer just murmurs about red and white. He talks about not being entirely monster, not entirely themselves- and yet they are both, inexplicably, them. Mention how that fact is a little shitty, not gonna lie.

And when Killer finally looks up a bit to meet Cross's eyes, his smile wavers at the sincerity in his gaze. He's reminded of the warmth under his fingertips.

And the warmth of Cross when he inevitably leans forward to press their foreheads together, Cross's own hand on Killer's chest (close enough to Killer's SOUL, but not enough to touch). And then Cross mumbles something about it being a little shitty, but at least they weren't alone.

And it makes Killer's SOUL ache and wobble and

do

do you guys ever think about that or

[darkxsoulzyx]

Reading a fic that has me kicking my feet and then screaming into my pillow

Like how can it be this good and make me giggle like a freak, and then whiplash me and make me so so sad what the fuck

SIGHINGGGG

Hate this fic /conflicted (I don't even know if I'm happy with it or not, which inherently is a good thing since good stories make you feel every emotion haha)

[darknymfa]

I have acquired some delicious @barksbog meat. Delightfully huge monster. Everyone in the family has enjoyed giving him a pet, many compliments on how soft he is. I knew how big he was gonna be and yet I'm surprised every time I see him, big ol chonker.

[pumpkin-the-girlie-girl-vixen]

New Year’s Day: A heavy poem about the end and the beginning

In the quiet of dawn, the world holds its breath,

A new year unfolds, yet I wrestle with death.

The calendar shifts, but the weight in my chest

Is a heavy reminder that I’m far from my best.

I watch as the sun spills its light on the ground,

While inside my mind, darkness spins round and round.

A dance of despair, where the whispers grow loud,

"Is this the end, or am I lost in a shroud?"

Each resolution feels like a fragile facade,

Promises made to a world that feels flawed.

I want to believe in the hope that they bring,

But shadows are cunning, and they steal everything.

The struggle is real; it’s a battle I fight,

A war within, hidden from most of the light.

I long for connection, for someone to see,

The turmoil that churns like a storm in the sea.

As laughter surrounds me, I wear a thin veil,

A smile on my face, though I’m ghosting the trail.

But inside, I tremble, on the edge of despair,

Wondering if anyone truly would care.

Do they know the weight of the thoughts that consume?

The darkness that lingers, the sense of impending doom?

Each day feels like walking through a thick fog,

And I’m battling demons that turn love into smog.

Yet in this moment, a flicker draws near,

A whisper of hope that perhaps I can hear.

Maybe this year, I can learn to be free,

To embrace all the struggle and still choose to be me.

So here on this New Year’s, I choose to hold tight,

To the flicker of light that cuts through the night.

I’ll reach for the hands of those willing to stand,

To walk through the fire, together, hand in hand.

For endings can birth a new chapter of growth,

And though I’ve been battered, I vow to make an oath:

To seek out the warmth in the faces I know,

To share my burdens, let my true feelings show.

New Year’s Day dawns, and while the struggle is real,

It’s a canvas of hope where I dare to feel.

With each passing moment, I’ll strive to believe,

That this is not the end, but a chance to retrieve.

A life full of colors, of laughter and tears,

A journey through shadows, facing deep-seated fears.

So, as the year turns, I’ll embrace what may come,

For in the fight for my life, I’m never truly done.

Or so I’m trying to grasp a fraction of a bringing,

To begin to believe all these positive things people spout on New Year’s Day.

That shit’s literally a joke, by the way,

When the echoes of doubt pull me back into gray.

They say, “New year, new you!” like it’s magic or gold,

But the truth is, these promises feel heavy and cold.

What if the dawn doesn’t change who I am?

What if the struggle just tightens the jam?

I scroll through the feeds, everyone smiling and bright,

Yet inside I’m still wrestling with my own endless fight.

While confetti falls down on the streets filled with cheer,

I’m trapped in a cycle, alone with my fear.

“Just think positive thoughts!” Oh, how easy they say,

But the mind is a maze where the shadows won’t play.

They don’t see the battles that rage deep within,

The moments of weakness, the heavy chagrin.

So, I sit on this cusp of what’s hopeful and bleak,

And I wonder if silence is all that I seek.

Can I carve out a path where the light might seep through,

Or am I destined to dwell in the gray and the blue?

Still, a flicker persists, faint but somehow alive,

But only to remind me how hard it is to strive.

I know that the journey won’t vanish today,

But I’ll continue to walk through the shadows, come what may.

So, here’s to the chaos, the mess that I own,

To the truths that I face, and the seeds I have sown.

Maybe this year, it’s not about perfect, but real,

To embrace all my flaws, and just let myself feel.

For in the laughter and tears, the confusion and strife,

I’m still navigating the void, weighed down by life.

And while New Year’s Day may feel like a jest,

I’m left with the darkness, with no place to rest.

[darks-ink]

Was told today that my scar-to-be looked very nice, very well stitched. Like, thanks??? I had no role in that except that I was present.

[critter-captures]

I love zoo photography

[masked-phantom]

Some potential Sandsurges from my lair. There are so many good terts on these guys, augh.

[darkxsoulzyx]

this but its everything I've ever made for any fandom is put in the bottom left quadrant /lh

OC/personal creations are categorized in the top left <3

Made a chart for sorting fantheories

[darknymfa-art]

This is almost a full year of art. If you disregard the fact that most months I barely drew anything. I love wrist injuries. Love how long it can take to recover from a tendon injury. Such fun. Hey, maybe next year I can fill out the entire year again. Here's hoping!

JANUARY: [Fusemon sprites] Did two sets Fusemon sprites for a personal project. FEBRUARY: [Fusemon sprites (again)] Did another 3 sets of Fusemon sprites, and then posted them all. Hooray. Also got surgery again. 👍 MARCH: [pencil sketch] Did two (very light) pencil sketches to test out my wrist. It was Bad. APRIL: [Superverse portraits] Did some portraits of characters from my Superverse setting, got started on some of their costumes versions and Didn't Finish Those. Also did a few more sprites for my Pokemon retype project. MAY: [retype sprites] Couple more retype sprites, and then my wrist was Very Unhappy and I quit again. JUNE: - JULY: [alien portraits] Sketched up some portraits of a few alien species from my Kelter setting, and did a few more Fusemon sprites. AUGUST: - SEPTEMBER: - OCTOBER: [Monstober Week 3, Day 19] Monstober was this month! Drew a (fairly quick) sketch every day! NOVEMBER: [Moncember Day 1] It's a cop-out, but technically I drew Moncember day 1 at the end of November (because it was more convenient than December 1st). So. Here it is. DECEMBER: [Skittering Jay Sprite] Moncember, doing daily drawings/concept designs every day, again! Also did this sprite of my DnD character Skittering Jay to test out a few new programs, including one for animation. You'll have to check the link to see her moving about, though.

Template by PEPPERTODE , and can be found HERE.

[darkstalker1247]

This was the first thing I thought of ignore how bad it looks

NOT SPOILERS

[darkmuffinstudios]

what if part of the reason ink is so forgetful is because forgetting things is an involuntary trauma response. not really saying its the sole reason for it, of course, but it could definitely be a contributor.

he experienced such an awful, horrible fate before he was even fully made, that it just

it just became easier to cope with life and his existence by forgetting.

he's practically immortal due to the nature of his design. he lives and breathes with existence itself, has witnessed and cherished lots of different people, stories, and worlds.

he's also lost a lot too.

and if you forget all of the bad things, then life becomes just that much easier. all of the friends he loses from aus being destroyed, all of the stories that never get finished, all of the pain of being forgotten himself.

if it's gone, if it's not there, then it can't hurt you.

but sometimes, your brain has trouble deeming what it wants to keep and what its willing to give up to protect itself.

even if those things are important.

[hoshizoralone]

reflection

[darknymfa]

anyway I am generally having a pretty good time trying to put together a game. it's not gonna go anywhere because my wrist is still doing too badly to do any kind of art (like designs, or making tilesets) or writing (planning out story), but still. feels mildly productive.

[biocrafthero]

ANATOMY (2016)

[darks-ink]

Not to be dramatic or anything but I am going to start climbing up fucking walls.