#the darkness was total

[milkygothgf]

I want to be corrupted into a total sex obsessed freak sooooo bad. I want to be forced to get horny from literally everything. Stick household objects in me. Make me hump shoes and bags and clothes. Make me finger myself anytime I talk on the phone. Make me rub my pussy juices on all of my things. Make me watch porn at work. Make me always keep an earbud in so I can listen to girls getting fucked streamed 24/7. Keep a dildo in me anytime I use my computer. Make me sexualize every nonsexual thing in my life. I want to be completely perverted.

[jojaxcola]

the jojamart mockumentary that constantly plays in my mind

[zytes]

look alive, sunshine

[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.

[doraingrid]

There's hesitation in his eye for one moment. A passing thought of all times spent together you'll never remember.

[leafyeyes417]

Danny was tired. Tucker and Sam had drifted away over the duration of high school. The ghost attacks and danger had been the main factor that started the dissipation of their friendship. Jazz had left for college a while ago leaving him to deal with his parents alone. He had eventually created his own secret base and left the house permanently even if it was technically illegal at 16. No one noticed since he still went to school.

Including being a teen hero who wasn’t appreciated in Amity just was the icing on the cake. After receiving approval from clockwork and mastering his portal abilities, he closed the portal down. It wasn’t easy to do but he made sure everyone was out of the blast range when it shut down. The Fenton house was gone but it hadn’t been home for quite some time.

It was because he was so tired that he was where he was. Drifting out of Earth’s atmosphere, Danny let himself luxuriate in the feeling of space. It made his core hum pleasantly. He moved to a good spot still in Earth’s gravity and curled up and just let himself drift along in a haze. He toned down his glow and his body started to slowly fade into the space around him till he was practically invisible.

He floated in this haze for probably a week, slowly recuperating and feeling himself slowly change. There was no one to miss him for any length of time and he wasn’t worried about his human life at all. Honestly he probably would have drifted longer but something woke him up. Some guy yelling about conquering Earth or something.

Annoyed at being woken up by a fruitloop Danny allowed his form to grow with the power of space he collected and snarled out a “Oy fruitloop! I was woken up because of you! Shut up already!” and smacked him into the sun with a giant hand. Turning his ire on the army with the fruitloop he quickly sent them flying with a blast of power. It would take them many years to gather up again with how hard he sent them flying.

Huffing, he turned and glanced at the group of people left. Shrinking down he spoke and gestures wildly. “I was taking the best nap of my afterlife and was woken up by those pests. You gotta better place I can nap?”

Luckily someone was quick to let him know they had a place. He was guided to a space station soon after and was soon sleeping on the comfiest bed ever.

[yasmeensh]

The comforts of palace life are still within reach for Zelda with the Tri-rod ✨

[britcision]

DP X DC PROMPT BECAUSE FUCK SLEEPING I DON’T NEED OXYGEN

It’s a hard summoning. A horrible summoning. The very worst Constantine’s ever been part of, he was expecting a rough ride with an entity of this power but surely this is excessive?

The Ghost King has been known to accept deals for centuries, and yeah the terms are shit but the world is full on ending and the Justice League are out of better options

When the magic lashes out and takes Doctor Fate to his knees, he begins to doubt what they’re doing

Is this really the better option? Really? Sure, Pariah will take the souls of all their enemies into his army for conquest, but if it costs everyone anyway…

**

Danny wrapped arms, legs, and teeth around the telephone pole in Amity Park, growling against the pull

Of COURSE this had to happen three days after he made a joke about “being the only entity John Constantine hasn’t tried to sell his soul to” to Clockwork

He’s not fucking losing the bet about making it to the end of the week

[probablybadrpgideas]

Hang on

Humans and other "good" species (dwarves, elves, halflings, etc) are usually diurnal- we're active during the day.

As such, we associate the light with "goodness", and thus refer to good things with terminology referencing light, the sun, and so forth.

Orcs, goblins, trolls, etc follow "dark lords" and "dark religions", they live in "dark kingdoms" and join "the forces of darkness".

They're also usually nocturnal.

I'm starting to see where the cultural confusion may have come from here.

[lilybug-02]

Patience and responsibility....that's a promise....right?

Part 27 First || Previous || Next

--Full Series--

An exorcism? In my family-friendly Deltarune? It's more likely than you may think. The backgrounds here were very interesting! Much more complex than how I usually do them (especially that computer).

Player POV:

Feral energy.

[papanowo]

when your boyfriend is also your dietician

( prompt fill for @mcspirkevents' bingo card prompt, "ice cream" )

[starry-bi-sky]

mmm throwaway conversation between Dan and Danny that popped into my head that I had to write out:

"You spent ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, then went back in time and fought me, and lost." Danny snarls, arms crossed and throat tight. His mouth pulls back to bare dagger-sharp teeth, and his eyes burn with the familiar thrum of ectoplasm heating up behind his eyes. "If I didn't believe you were half of Vlad before, I do now."

His other self -- and really, can he even call him that? He's half of Vlad too. Two halves severed from each other and welded together to make a new whole, -- snaps his head over to him. Wild-eyed and furious, he looks unlike the man Danny fought before, the one unruffled and untouched, unbothered by the world around him. It's familiar, but not like the way a reflection is.

"What's that supposed to mean." The Other hisses, matching Danny's scowl one-for-one with fangs much bigger and sharper than his.

But there's a reason lions fear hyenas. Danny matches the rumble in The Other's chest with one of his own, and shoves his face close to his. "I don't lose."

[raihanijulie]

What we could have.

Am i the only one seeing it?? Me? Okay... ILL TELL YOU WHAT!!!! Since Sonic and Tails are seen alot as brothers, Shadow acknowledge that as well. And that somehow... couldd... give him jealousy. It makes him think of what him and his big sister, Maria couldve had done together on earth. But of course. To see siblings living happily is heartwarming. He wishes for them to not end too soon as how he is.

Ok but. Would it be ALSO funny if Shadow's reason of disliking Tails is because he is jealous of him???? LIKE. Both Tails and Shadow are the little brother. Except. Tails can still spend time w his big bro (Sonic) meanwhile Shadow's big sis (Maria) is.. yknow. Deceased<"3 He couldnt get to spend more time as Tails does so he just despise him, it reminds him of his self that is happier💥💥💥

[c-rowlesdraws]

"We're talking low prices."

It's Alecto, in her favorite t-shirt that she never got to wear from another life! I do hope there's still some Nona in her somewhere, but I also fully support her on her quest for revenge. Come on, Barbie-- let's go party.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Dark! Gojo Satoru x reader (Soulmate Au blurb)

(warnings: dark content, implied kidnapping, implied noncon, masochism)

I really like the idea of soulmates in the JJK world. They're rare, but the reason why they're so coveted is because they are the only person in the world who is immune to their soulmate's cursed technique. 

Being Gojo's soulmate would be like hitting the jackpot, at first. You're a regular person, with no cursed energy. Maybe you and Satoru's hands bump into each other while you're at a cafe, grabbing your respective drinks. To you, it's just an accident. You apologize, make your way out. 

To him, it's like submerging himself into an ice bath. For the first time in years, someone had gotten past his limitless technique. It was so unexpected, and real, and so warm.

Your hands were warm. 

It's the thrill of it that gets him first. The unexpected. No one's ever come close to him. He is the summit of the mountain. The strongest. And yet, there you were, effortlessly able to bypass his barriers without even trying. With women, with Geto, he'd always have to turn his technique off. He'd have to let them do something to him. You could do anything to him, and his powers wouldn't even stop you. You could kick him, punch him, bite him. Anything you wanted, and for once, he'd be powerless to stop you.

He can't detect you with his six eyes. It makes the hunt even better when he catches up to you. It's days of stalking and harassment and the touching that finally makes you snap and slap him. 

It hurts. 

It hurts and he fucking loves it. 

He already made up his mind days ago, but this only cemented it. When he finally takes you home, to his bed, it's euphoric. You scratch and bite and scream and hurt him over and over again. Hours later, when you've passed out from sheer exhaustion, he has more bruises than you do. They'll fade eventually, but that's okay. 

You could always make more. 

[temeyes]

no sense of direction