* / DARKNESS @darknessheld - Tumblr Blog

marshson‌ (STANLEY:

Watching the other jump in was probably a bad idea, the moment he’d made contact with the water it had splashed him as he’d hit near him. He rubbed his face, blowing out any water that may have gone up his nose and wheezed out a laugh, arms wrapping around his stomach while he did.

❝ Congratulations, Damien. You’ve officially have a life, ❞ he teased, but soon walked to the edge of the water and flicked a bit of water in the other’s direction with a smile. Soon after, he’d climbed out of the river and let out a harsh breath, running his hand through his messy hair. Well, no doubt would that be difficult to get back to the way it was. Was it worth it, though ? In his mind, he’d considered it to be so, even if he felt like he was freezing.

❝ It was a GREAT idea, dude. I have no idea what you’re talking about, ❞ Stanley began to make his way through the small rocks and the grass to get back to the bridge, his feet already used to the rough feeling of nature. It reminded him of days that he and Kyle would do this as kids, that is, whenever he could actually convince him that it was a good idea or just push him in anyways.

❝ You look colder than I do, pffthaha. Do you wanna use my towel ? I’m like temperature proof, don’t worry about it. Feels like I never even went into the water, dude, haha. ❞

He took a big deep breath, following Stanley up and out of the river, thankful for the bank being slightly warmer than the rocks he previously had to get a grip on with his bare feet. Thank god, he rubbed his hands together to try them off a little more, even blowing his warm breath into them to assist.

‘You officially have a life.’ Maybe he did, but, if having one made him fucking cold then he had a few other concerns about other things. The rocky sand became grass, and Damien decided he had a little too much of the cold, for the time being, so he rubbed his hands a little more, and lit a small flame he cradled in his hands. It a small crimson flame that reflected his eyes to come a little more red than their usual color that reflected a dark pomegranate tea. It flared to life, he kept it to himself, and away from the foliage that trecked in the path Stanley made in front of him.

“I’ll be fine, thanks..” He let a quick smile slip to show he was trying to be genuine rather than an asshole about things- usually, the effort wasn't something he cared about, but after someone jumps off a bridge with you into a freezing stream you tend to think they're your friend.

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vos-estis-sal-tarrae‌:

“Who are you?” Still under the impression that this could be some sort of game or trick, he wondered if, just maybe, this demon had been given the same name as himself. Ready to summon fire as well if need be, he kept an eye on the flames that grew around the other’s hands."I’m the antichrist,” he offered rather than giving up his name. Now standing beside the bed, he noticed that the room felt noticeably colder than it usually did. Strange. But, then again, something about the room itself was also different, but he couldn’t exactly put a finger on what it was.

Damien stared right back, his eyebrows furrowing, and then he heard it ‘the antichrist.’ The chubbier raven-haired boy laughed, laughing in his face, wheezing even. He remembered being like that, ‘im the future king of hell, who the fuck are you, I don't need friends!’ And he snorted, looking up to compose himself a little. “Damien Thorn.” Since this guy felt the need to flex, he opened his hand to give a small, controlled flame. But did he consider himself the actual son of Satan, no.

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vulgarheld‌:

It was on INSTINCT, an arm thrown across Damien’s waist, his body shifting closer with ankles tangling together to paler ankles, and his nose settled nicely in thick black hair. He knew Damien’s limits on touching, hell, he could be toeing the red lines right now, but he didn’t care.

Kenny’s body immediately got a set of goosebumps from the chilling contact of Damien’s skin. Even his hair felt like melting ice cubes under his own soft breathe. “ You’re cold to the touch, dude. How long you been standin’ there? “

A pause, then a sleepy glance down at his face that slowly twisted to a SOMBER stare. “ Actually, what was it about this time? ”

Touching was often passed several of Damien’s comfort levels. Kenny, well, he enjoyed snuggling, god forbid. But, blue moons came around and he was left not minding it. Maybe it was just a mixture of tired, of coming here again after working. At least he was off for a while after yesterday.

Circling close by Kenny was heavenly, he laid down and everything felt a lot safer, the familiar smell, the heavy wearing out quilts against his skin, just the right weight. By the time the blond had gotten settled, the two were closer than they normally were, Damien's body heat had dropped well below his usual, warmer than average temp.

He didn’t answer the first question. But his mouth opened at the second.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

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marshson‌ (STANLEY):

Damien’s look to Stanley seemed to amuse him, one hand coming up to cover his mouth while he laughed for a moment. He simply shrugged, gesturing down with his head. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have blamed the other for thinking it was a terrible idea or outright strange. It wasn’t planned out at all, and he’d honestly had second thoughts by the time he’d taken off his shirt.

❝ First, you get to the edge like I am. Then, once you’ve gotten there, you jump as far as you can. It’s like going into the pool except you don’t wanna dive because you’ll just hit your head on the rocks, ❞ Stanley explained, not that he thought it would sound more appealing had he done so. Knees bending, he heaved his arms backwards then forwards as he jumped into the water.

The cold water engulfed his body for a moment while he’d tucked his body while curling up, it wasn’t the cleanest river but it was clear enough he wasn’t immediately covered in algae. He stayed in his ball for a moment, but he eventually came up and gasped for air once he reached the surface.

❝ It’s fucking freezing, but that felt so great! You’ve definitely got this. I believe in you, Damien ! ❞

Was this actually a thing they were doing? Was this actually a thing HE was considering doing? It felt like a really shitty idea, jumping off the side of a bridge into a river. Well, it was cleaner than the pond closer to town, that's for fucking sure. Well, he’d gone this far, it's not like dying would change a whole fucking lot? Hitting his head or breaking something, though, that’d definitely dint his budget, but, who had time for that shit.

He sighed, mostly at himself, maybe for agreeing to this. As Stanley explained further, Damien just went along, grasping the railing and jumping over. Soft breezes came through from the movement of the river, it felt cold, like the last bit of winter was washing down the stream, and he let Stanley go first, the splash barely reaching his toes. His friend was submerged for a bit, nearly causing a bit of worry. When the surface broke and revealed the other, he shook his head, and jumped, making sure to curl up and hit somewhat near the other.

F U C K!

That really WAS cold, like jumping into the ice water of a cooler. The water itself pricked his skin as he went under, and he quickly tried to get footing so he could get as much of himself out of the water. Similar to a cat getting a bath.

When he rose, he gasped from the sheer shock, his nose getting red as the cold nipped him. “Fuck-” Damien rubbed his hands together. “That was a terrible ass idea!” It really had been.

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The Hanged Man & The Star

Tarot Based Asks- accepting

The Hanged Man

What makes my muse feel vulnerable?

Not to be stereotypical, but really fully investing himself into people makes him feel exposed. He’s been moved so much, its really taken a toll on how he views caring for someone.

Do they take things too seriously?

He can, yeah, especially if it's himself!

How does my muse take criticism?

Pretty okay, it’ll seriously come off that he just doesn't care, but he’ll keep it for later and review it in his own time.

The Star

What are their hopes and dreams?

He’s not much of a dreamer, I think right now he just wants to get out of high school, try to get a job that's NOT being a cashier lol.

What makes them feel uplifted?

Not a lot, he’s got a soft spot for dogs, though.

What do they become defensive about?

I don't know if there's one thing, but he gets really closed up if he feels like he's being bullied.

#lets start with this to get in a good mood #asks #marshson

Tarot Card Based Asks

The Fool: Does my muse like embarking on new adventures? Who does my muse aspire to be? What is my muse unwilling to do?

The Magician: What does my muse consider to be an achievement? What sort of things blocks them from getting what they want? Do they consider themselves a good teacher?

The High Priestess: How does my muses inner voice effect them? How does this manifest? Do they trust their instincts?

The Empress: Is my patient? How does my muse express creativity? How do the overcome a creative block?

The Emperor: Is my muse disciplined? What makes them feel powerful? Powerless? How do they handle new authority?

The Hierophant: What does it take for my muse to trust others? Are they religious and if yes how so? How do they try and make people understand them?

The Lovers: When faced with a choice will my muse go for what they know or what is new? What is my muse passionate about? Is my muse good about communicating how they feel?

The Chariot: What does my muse equate with success? Does my muse consider themselves confident? What makes my muse feel like they've lost control?

Strength: What makes my muse feel in control? What do they equate having courage with? What brings up the most doubt for them?

The Hermit: How often do they have introspective thoughts? How often do they focus on themselves and their own needs? How much time alone is too much time alone?

Wheel of Fortune: What would my muse consider to be a good change? How lucky do they consider themselves? How often do they take responsibility for their actions?

Justice: How does my muse determine what is best for them or others? How do they react to change? How often does emotion cloud their judgment?

The Hanged Man: What makes my muse feel vulnerable? Do they take things too seriously? How does my muse take criticism?

Death: How does my muse mourn the end of things? How do they deal with transitions in their life? Are there any bad habits they seem to be stuck in?

Temperance: How willing are they to let other peoples ideas work? How does my muse handle moderation? Is their an aspect of their life that they live in excess of?

The Devil: Is there something my muse is addicted to, is so what? Are they prone to overindulging? What things overwhelm my muse?

The Tower: What would send my muse crashing down? How does my muse deal with things getting shaken up? What do they refuse to let go of?

The Star: What are their hopes and dreams? What makes them feel uplifted? What do they become defensive about? Why?

The Moon: Can they find beauty in hurtful situations? Do they push to follow their dreams or do they wait idly by? What paralyzes my muse emotionally?

The Sun: What brings out my muses child-like side? How does my muse celebrate achievements? What helps when they feel hopeless?

Judgment: How easily do they forgive others? Themselves? How easily do they move forward in life? Are they harsh on themselves with self-criticism? Why?

The World: What makes them feel complete? How do they honor achievements? What are their irrational fears?

#omg send some of these in!#asks #memes #prompts

egobuzz

you’ve heard of the swear jar

now get ready for the sin tin

egobuzz

remember-you-will-die

OP? I’m pretty sure this counts as taking indulgences.

rad-dixie-deactivated20190401

Shut up Luther

magnoliamemes-deactivated201906

✋ to wrap an arm around my muse’s shoulder.

#roleplay prompts #fuck i really like this one

(Response to [X])

@marshson

Since moving the south park, he’s been alone more, no one in his apartment but him, no shifty homeless in downtown NewYork in the apartment next door- it’d just been him, and the silence that held the town by the balls in the late afternoons. He found himself walking, and.. walking. He’s been a lot less angry since he started, instead just a mild annoyed, and work- thank fuck the holidays are over. Though, finding Stanley at a bridge isn’t his usual walk.

“Uhm,” He only blinked and looked at him, then, the water. Then back at Stanley with the equivalent of suspicion. ‘Why the fuck would I do even attempt that,’ His brain goes, yet he only shifts closer to peer over the edge, and look at Stanley. The water was deep and coaxing through the bank and under the low bearing bridge.

Part of him wanted to speak more, but he knew if he forced it, he would say something fucking stupid or call Stanley a shit name. That wasn't really his intention, so instead, he shrugged, “Okay.” and took off his sweater, stripping down to the shorts he had been wearing, once again peering over the edge with uncertainty. He tied his shoes together by the laces, quickly, as if to be hasty, perhaps to keep Stanley from waiting.”What do we do.”

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“stop trying to eat stuff that’ll make you throw up.”

“...” Slowly, Damien set down the can of Crayola paint. “Have you tried it.”

#//im so sorry this has taken a fucking week ><#asks #goddamndogs

justmorerpmemes

Non-Verbal Venting Starters

Send me a number to find my muse trying to vent some emotions on their own. Send Reverse + a Number to have my muse find yours in such a state:

Angrily sparring alone.

Frustratingly attempting to read.

Pacing back and forth.

Going for an incredibly late night walk.

Failing at being productive.

Tossing an object at a wall repeatedly.

Sitting alone, head down on a desk.

Attempting the same task over and over to no avail.

Scribbling furiously on a piece of paper.

Tapping against a table.

Ignoring the problems with a scowl on their face.

Exercising with intensity.

Hitting an inanimate object over and over.

Trying not to cry.

Working on an assignment for the last few hours without a break.

Looking like they need someone to listen.

Yelling into the sky thinking no one is around.

Staring at their phone, hovering over an unsent message.

Listening to music in a quiet space.

Finding them in a secluded, out of the way place.

vhsmeme

* dark matter starters

dark matter is a novel by blake crouch. tw: self-harm and suicidal ideation.

‘ how does that feel? ’

‘ you should eat something. ’

‘ is everything okay? ’

‘ you have cuts all over your face. ’

‘ we’ll go someplace safe. ’

‘ you’re in no condition – ’

‘ there’s a car following us. ’

‘ you’re burning up, __. ’

‘ i can’t sleep. ’

‘ we’re all real proud of you. ’

‘ don’t touch me! ’

‘ i should take you to the ER. ’

‘ you’ll be right here? ’

‘ i hope you’ll be more comfortable here. ’

‘ what does your gut tell you? ’

‘ let me take you to the hospital. ’

‘ stay with me. ’

‘ i told you. we’re a family. ’

‘ keep your voice down. ’

‘ what about me? ’

‘ last night, you asked me how we fix this. ’

‘ turn around. ’

‘ i don’t need you doing something heroic. ’

‘ you’ve been following me? ’

‘ by the way, this is going to stay locked. ’

‘ they carried you in here a little while ago. ’

‘ i’m scared too. ’

‘ just fucking do it. ’

‘ can’t you see it’s me? can’t you tell? ’

‘ you don’t look fine. ’

‘ bullshit. ’

‘ is something wrong, and you’re not telling me? ’

‘ so how serious is it? ’

‘ what’s in the bag? ’

‘ i just need you to listen for a minute. ’

‘ __, are you having any thoughts of hurting yourself? ’

‘ you don’t get to – ’

‘ i really miss you. ’

‘ my phone’s dead, so i borrowed one off this woman on the train. ’

‘ because i didn’t sign up for this shit. ’

‘ i know. i just didn’t want to wake you. ’

‘ i’m not suicidal. ’

‘ you live with your choices and learn. ’

‘ i feel like i’m caught in a nightmare and i can’t wake myself up. ’

‘ go to hell. ’

‘ you don’t remember? ’

straightouttaoptions

Active Southpark roleplayers please reblog!

I want to see whos still here lol

3/7/2019

vos-estis-sal-tarrae‌:

Kicking at his sheets, Damien was not in the mood to deal with unruly monsters right now: and in his bed? No way. Ready to give the offending monster a piece of his mind, the words died on his tongue when he grasped the shoulder of… himself? Repelled, he scrambled off the bed and to his feet. He’d seen just about everything between growing up in Hell and then living part time up in South Park, but this experience nearly took the cake.

A thousand explanations ran through his mind: maybe his father had made a clone of him while he was spending most of his time up in South Park as revenge… maybe he had a twin kept far from him all along… or maybe this was a demon who had dared change their appearance to closely match his own. He didn’t like any of those possibilities.

@darknessheld

Last night’s work at City Wok had been difficult, his body ached and he only let out a breath, before there was a distinct kicking at his side and he let out something under his breath- and then something grasped his shoulder, a heavy and, and he sat up, very certain those hands weren’t Kenny. Outside, police cars came and went down the street, their sirens drowning in the town’s structured forest of buildings. The sunlight bounced off their faces and he met mirrored eyes, almost. His counterpart had deeply warm eyes, and like embers, they seemed to flare up in the light of the sun. Dark red eyes met much more vibrant ones, a this started to resemble a horrible dream. The last person he wanted to see was HIMSELF. Both standing, the entities looked ready to burn the other to crisps. “Who the fuck ARE you..” Damien lit his hand aflame, ready to protect himself from this,, weirdly more imposing stranger.

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//getting drafts done tomorrow!!

#ooc