#not dark yet

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Perhaps it’s the color of the sun cut flat An’ cov’rin’ the crossroads I’m standing at Or maybe it’s the weather or something like that But mama, you been on my mind

I don’t mean trouble, please don’t put me down or get upset I am not pleadin’ or sayin’, “I can’t forget” I do not walk the floor bowed down an’ bent, but yet Mama, you been on my mind

Even though my mind is hazy an’ my thoughts they might be narrow Where you been don’t bother me nor bring me down in sorrow It don’t even matter to me where you’re wakin’ up tomorrow But mama, you’re just on my mind

I am not askin’ you to say words like “yes” or “no” Please understand me, I got no place for you t’ go I’m just breathin’ to myself, pretendin’ not that I don’t know Mama, you been on my mind

When you wake up in the mornin’, baby, look inside your mirror You know I won’t be next to you, you know I won’t be near I’d just be curious to know if you can see yourself as clear As someone who has had you on his mind

[Not Dark Yet]

[newvision]

— Bob Dylan from Not Dark Yet on The Essential Bob Dylan (2014)

[iviaggisulcomo]

"E il peso che mi porto appresso è l'unica ricchezza che ho."

[symphonyoflovenet]

Behind every beautiful thing there’s been some kind of pain

Bob Dylan, Not Dark Yet

[joemayo65]

Not Dark Yet - Bob Dylan

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[learnelle]

I went to my favourite Portuguese cafe to plan out the next uni semester. Every academic year I yearn for the summer, and every summer I sit in excitement to start studying again lol ☕️

[sunderwight]

Bingqiu AU where Luo Binghe's the chosen village sacrifice to the evil deity who lives up the mountain.

Normally the village sends maidens, but they've more or less run out of expendable girls of the right age and, ahem, "virtues". So of course Luo Binghe's early life bad luck kicks in. In the wake of his mother's death there's no one to really care about what happens to him, he's fairly pretty, and the village leaders decide that if they dress him up like a girl the teenaged homeless kid should pass well enough. And hey, y'know, he's probably got a hard life ahead for him anyway -- dying in a brothel of some venereal disease or on the streets of exposure or starvation. At least as a sacrifice, everyone else gets to benefit from his loss! And the kid will get added to a shrine and be remembered as a hero! If anything, he should be happy about this!

Binghe is not happy about this.

But he's also a skinny underfed nobody who is easily overpowered, dressed up like a bride, and tied to a post. So. Not much he can do but wait for the evil deity to come and do whatever horrible thing he's gonna do to him.

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan is pretty sure he's been isekai'd into the over-powered hero of some kind of supernatural adventure story? He's not totally sure because he doesn't recognize the setting, but the signs are there. He's got a shrine-like base of operations (though it seems to have become corrupted/ruined, probably he has to restore it somehow), he has a very resilient and handsome new body with spiritual energy of some kind flowing through him, and a very clearly magical sword. Plus lots of neat starter powers! Though it feels like he has other abilities that have been blocked somehow? Probably he has to level up in order to access them.

When he treks out of his "base" and finds what seems to be a distressed maiden, he takes it for his beginner hero mission. The girl claims that she's been doomed to be sacrificed to an evil god. That sounds a little above Shen Yuan's pay grade for dealing with, so he unties her and decides that they had better just get out of the whole region altogether. He already packed up anything useful from his base, anticipating he might get caught up in an adventure once he left, so they follow the river away from the settlement until they reach another one.

While they travel, Luo Binghe tells Shen Yuan about the cursed deity, Shen Qingqiu, who was cast out of the heavens for slaughtering one of his brethren and has apparently being do-who-knows what to maidens from the local village in exchange for his "protection" ever since. Sounds like a real asshole! And also mid-level boss type bad guy at least. Shen Yuan hopes he doesn't have to fight him, but he probably will.

Thank goodness he found Binghe, though! Clearly the helpful little sister type! He's definitely going to require her assistance if he's going to figure out how to navigate this world and level up his skills enough to take on a god.

[itsanambush]

Durge x Gortash first night out.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

[In this picture Sara Dylan snapped at sunset, if you notice what's behind him in the distance, you'll know why this song now.]

In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed There’s a dyin’ voice within me reaching out somewhere Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair

Don’t have the inclination to look back on any mistake Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break In the fury of the moment I can see the Master’s hand In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand

Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear Like criminals, they've choked the breath of conscience & good cheer The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay

I gaze into the doorway of temptation’s angry flame And every time I pass that way I always hear my name Then onward in my journey I come to understand That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand

I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night In the violence of a summer’s dream, in the chill of a wintry light In the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space In the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face

I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea Sometimes I turn, there’s someone there, other times it’s only me I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand

[Not Dark Yet]

[iphigeniacomplex]

it’s very easy to tell the good satires and pastiches from the bad ones because the bad ones are too afraid to live within the form. like if you are doing work with fairy tales and you are refusing to look closer at the underlying logic and unspoken rules of what can seem at first to be a senseless form, you are not going to create meaningful work. to borrow a turn of phrase originally used by maria tatar, if you refuse to enter “the house of fairy tale” as anything more than a gawking tourist, you will miss the particular order to the way the table is set, the rooms that are locked vs the rooms that are simply difficult to enter, the set of the floorboards and the position of the furniture. whatever you build will then be a gilded imitation of how you believe the house of fairy tale ought to look, the table set according to your educated specifications and every door open. there can be no interrogation of themes from a writer who views the form as beneath them!

[onlyhurtforaminute]

FLUIDS-HUMANITY REVILED

[zu-is-here]

(〃˃̵3˂̵)(ᴖ◡U๑)♪

thanks to l1met1me for sudden inspiration! <3

Cross from xtaleunderverse by jakei95

Shattered Dream from shattereddreamsau by galacii / galacii-gallery

[myoonmii]

He watches him like a ghost

[buttercupshands]

can you even call it a warm up if I'm going to bed without drawing anything big

and a sketch I made while sitting in the park today