such as dark things

Dark Souls is such an exercise in humility like, you feeling proud of killing that boss it took you two days to learn? Well prepare to get fuckin owned by some dorky little Hollow with a knife and two hitpoints. Got away from those dudes that would have killed you and you’re almost to the next bonfire? Looks like it’s time for you to mistime a roll and take a swim in that deep water.

I love it.

stars in her eyes

A/N: Late submission for InuKag Week: Stars :D 1700 words of fluff. 


Kagome was drunk.

Kagome was druuunk.

It was something Inuyasha was trying to not focus too much on, since he decided to wait outside of the comfortably warm hut everybody was huddled inside of. He tried desperately to focus on all the other uninhibited things that echoed brokenly into the darkness.  

It was almost well past midnight, and the stars were out in full display, but he could still hear the sounds of their tittering voices, Miroku’s robust chuckling and Sango’s high pitched trill, seeping through the cracks of a makeshift doorway. Kaede’s rough scolding voice, heavy with tease and pestering good will. Shippo piping up that it was ‘incredibly unfair’ he wasn’t allowed to have a swig of the ‘good stuff’.

Kagome, shrieking every once in a while with her clear and ringing laughter. Inuyasha found himself smiling privately, as he leaned back against the cold bark of the tree behind him. He could picture her perfectly too, knees underneath her, red at the joints from how long she had been rubbing them against the wooden floor boards, mouth open and gaping as she released muffled laughter under her hands. Hair a mess, eyes glistening and glimmering in the firelight.

He had been inside surrounded by music and high spirits, but after a few indirect (and direct) innuendos on the nature of his relationship with the back-again priestess, he felt hot and uncomfortable. He’d made a gruff comment about needing to get some air with a reddened face and disappeared before anyone could stop him.

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anonymous asked:

Dark frogopera give us the taako shitpost

hjsdkhdkhdjsakhj my friend @vollmetall was doing ms paint drawings and fused some taako legs and a head and i was cr acking up so i drew the horrible leggo

gay-blanket  asked:

do you do anything for fun? It sound boring to just sit around all day looking like you're planning a murder. Do you have a favorite drink? Favorite activity? Favorite a N y T h I n G?

“I am incapable of favoritism. That would assume that I was able to express affection towards one thing over the other, which I cannot express affection at all. So, no, unfortunately I have no favorite thing.”

Dark smiled, but his eyes looked much like death, pale and lifeless, pooling and glassy with a lack of motion that made them seem like glass, simply implanted into his sockets.

“However, my versions of fun are writing, observing art, and playing the cello. They are what provide the burst of energy I need to continue a long battle, other than meditation of course. They are not exciting to those who do not understand them, no, but they are what give me extra purpose.”

3

3.5 mile run this morning on sore, stiff legs. They warmed up and behaved about a mile into the run…. thankfully. Daffodils are doing their thing, even in the dark morning light.

Grace had to get updated on her vaccinations this morning so off to my wonderful vets office we went! A friend of mine, Ben Mann, is an artist and was commissioned to do all of the artwork for the office. He surprised me and painted my dear, sweet Siberian Husky, McKenzie, into the scene that’s in the lobby. This vet saved McKenzie’s life when another had no idea what he was doing when she was initially diagnosed with diabetes and seemed to be guessing as to how to regulate her. He nearly killed her. Dr Johnson at Fairhaven Vet was our saviour! McKenzie died 4 years ago due to complications but I’ll always be grateful for the 10 years I had with her. I loved that I got to take a pic with Grace and McKenzie. 💜💜💜

I remember I made these posts during the hype of Season 2. I got some comments that weren’t friendly. I guess I’m gonna have to explain myself.

I have a dark sense of humor. I like to joke around about things I’ve experienced. When it comes to racism. I make jokes about it. That’s how I cope. I laugh it off and not mope about it. Again. I’ve experienced racism countless times in my life. More so, to the point I experienced it more than my Mom and she grew up in the 60’s. I was put down for being black, I was called a slave when I wanted to play pretend, I was put in the back of the class. Behind all white students, I was failed because I was the only black kid in the class. You don’t know how much my kid self wanted to be pale. Wanted to fit in with the other girls. It took me years to love myself. It took me years to not yearn for the impossible.

So when I look back on those experiences. I joke about them. Because its better to have a laugh then mope.

But apparently, people take it too seriously.

Hook had a dreamcatcher? But those take dark magic to make and magic in general to use– so where did he get it from? Not Zelena or she would totally have made snide remarks to Emma/Regina, Regina and the EQ were busy with each other, and Gold was busy playing *poof* tag with his son off-screen.

Did Hook grab an extra one from Emma’s Garage O’ Dreamcatchers? Because if so, boy does Emma have a lot of nerve to complain about Hook using them considering her hijinks in S5.

Originally posted by herhookedhero

“Honey, can you move some of your dark magic doodads from the garage? I want to keelhaul my dinghy”

often I will stop and feel the wind

the ticks of sky falling meticulously close


clung to with mist and low clouds


and believe, that what opens

as the wings of the blue heron


before the world in subterfuge


are elements of a dark greater anatomy

that do not have time for questioning things


and through the varying indifference of things

as through a stare,


                                   a stair


the deception of silence shades inwards

from the edges of things


from the dark,

where desires grow grievous


to where the rivers have gone

small, Mnemosyne


where time opens and closes

her blurry womb


as the indigo-violet, sharp lobed hepatica

throated in the marrow of impenetrable sound


and to the unfeasible places

where emptiness goes


early stars,

                               the mantle of pines


and the small spaces,

as vulnerable as


                     a jar, insubstantial with

matter


the gathered thoughts extending back

their invisible lines


a sentence that unravels

in the salt pits of the sea


the uncomposed story of ourselves


:the falling order of time:


arranged as a statue, heavy

with the shadows of what’s in it

or the disorder of the land

that hovers with the malaise

of light


each shadow, empty contributor


vision of the skull, the window

the residue of the four elements in discord


and occasionally, invisible, we do

not re)emerge from the arrestments

of the stones, or the orations of the sea


ever, cornflower blue


the tongues of memory

unravel into the wilderness


a vogue of kneeling violets

how I live on, here

                                               and hardly speak of it

But even if they reverse things or prevent them from playing out like that, there is still a version of Barry Allen, the Wests and the entire team that lived in a world without Iris West and that to me (and clearly to the narrative) is heartbreaking.


I’m gonna go to my corner and cry a bit now.

Oh, that and the speed force allowed Barry to see/Savitar constructed a reality where Barry saw Iris die. Allowing him to work to prevent it.

If it’s the former then it’s clear they know her importance. Not just to Barry and for herself but to the greater good of the flash universe. They saw how things go dark and were giving him an opportunity to change it.

That seems likely given Savitar’s manipulation of it. In the sense that he talks about Barry not recovering from her death and all that fucking painful shit.

    OOC -

I did some quick doodles of Dark today since I wanted to see how few things looked and I basically decided that ( since the muse’s ‘Dark’ persona is based off Fleetway as well ) there would be essentially three different ‘versions’ of him. 

Depending on the situation and energy involved it’ll vary between the three and his eyes are a dead giveaway as to how strong he is, I guess? Number one is the version that he goes into the most though so…yeah.

References are from here.

It’s odd how things are sort of dark at the moment. But from that dark place comes the love and care of wonderful people, so it’s not so dark.

It’s odd how something heavy has been dropped in my lap. Like, over and over again and then… Oh, something nice, too.

One thing I’ve encountered in life: it’s never balanced. Things are good in one area, but they can be a train wreck in another. Job is great, relationship is awful. Or great relationship, but financial chaos. Nothing has ever felt even Steven for me, I guess. I’m ok with that at present moment, and feeling more capable than ever of managing it.