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screamingatanemptyroom:

writing-prompt-s:

You and the Devil sit down for a game of chess. If he wins, he takes your soul. If you win, you take control of Hell. As the Devil prepares his first move, he simply smiles and knocks over his king. “You win.”

The world was quiet.

The stars and moon shone brightly above, their gentle light filtered through the branches of the trees. The cold air warmed around me as I walked, my bare feet making no sound as they pressed on the soft grass below. My hand reached out, touching the branches around me, leaves forming instantly as I passed on energy. The world slowly turned green, waking up from the cold of winter, I smiled, feeling the life that surrounded me. Animals crept from their burrows, their eyes gleaming in the darkness, watched me solemnly, pressured by my existence to stay in hiding, no matter their curiosity.

This was my Spring Walk.

I was the Spirit of the Forest.

I paused as I saw a gap in the trees ahead. The forest should extend at least a few more miles, but it ended abruptly, with nothing living beyond. I held the trees, feeling their trembling of fear, wondering if they would be the next to be destroyed, and tried to comfort them. As they calmed I lowered my gaze, unwilling to stare at the death and destruction of the trees ahead. To be honest, I was scared too.

I was the Spirit of the Forest.

And I was dying.

Each year my realm got smaller. Trees were slower to wake up. Fewer animals born each Spring. The forest depended on me to survive, and I was the same. As my trees were destroyed, I felt myself slowly fading away.

But there was nothing I could do about it.

“Hello, friend.” A low, gentle voice called out to me from the darkness ahead. “Why don’t you come join me?”

I hesitated, unsure of what power the being ahead would hold that he could sense my presence. Perhaps he was speaking to someone else?I hid behind a tree, the natural greens and browns of my form blending in with the foliage.

“Little Spirit. Come here.” The voice called out again.

Feeling compelled, I stepped into the clearing, clenching my fists nervously. I was out of my realm, my source of power. I needed to be careful. Filled with wariness, I stared at the being in front of me.

A man, robed in black, sat on a stone table, his form seeming normal while overwhelming suffocating at the same time within the night. Dark hair barely covered pitch black horns that grew from his head. His features were almost immaculate, beautiful, but poisoned. His would provoke a sense of despair in mortals, a feeling of perfection just out of reach. He smiled at me, and I stared back, unsure of what brought such a powerful being to my doorstep.

The Devil.

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(via screamingatanemptyroom)

intactics-deactivated20211231:

god i hope whatever bullshit happens next is funny

lezzyharpy:

panda1345:

lezzyharpy:

panda1345:

lezzyharpy:

con artists that forge art and wine to sell to rich snobs for millions of dollars: cool, good

con artists that target marginalized groups and harass and make legal threats against people calling them on it: guillotine

…. art theft is art theft. Punish all of them the same or not at all.

man shut the fuck up

So crime is okay in some circumstances?

yes

(via kiss-my-asymptote)

screamingatanemptyroom:

writing-prompt-s:

A human just barely chained together 2000(!) demonic contracts in an infinite feedback loop, exploiting loopholes in each in order to fuel the next. All of hell’s lawyers are furious.

“We need to talk.” I sipped at my coffee, ignoring the almost seven feet tall furious demon standing in front of my desk.

“Elaine…” The growl from the demon was filled with brimstone and damnation, the claws from his hands sinking into the wood of my desk, charring it. Wincing at the damage to my beautiful new desk, I set my now empty coffee cup down on a tray held up by a small demon and silently stared at him. Theizaar, Hell’s top lawyer, glared back.

“Don’t give me that look.”

“You’re going to pay for the damages to my property.” “Destruction is a part of the demonic code.” He laughed. “It’s expected when a demon arrives. No reparations are necessary. See Hell Code TC7 section 409 pertaining to Demonic summoning.”

I shook my head slowly, a smile crossing my face as his smile grew more uncertain. “But this wasn’t a demonic summoning, was it, Theizaar?”

“…”

“This is, in fact, a peaceful negotiation, which means you should have looked at Hell Code T47 Section 22.5 in which peaceful envoys and negotiators are bound by the Heaven/Hell common code.” I smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly expression “Therefore you are required to pay in full all damages with a penalty of an additional 400 gold pieces. At about an ounce per piece, and 1600 US dollars per ounce of gold at the current exchange…” I wrote some figures on the paper and handed it to him.

The demon was enraged. “This is ridiculous!”

“I’m not the one who destroyed property during a peaceful envoy. Please, feel free to destroy something else.” I gestured behind me with a grin. “I’m in the midst of remodeling my kitchen and I can use the extra income.”

“…” The silence stretched on between us. Finally, Theizaar sat down in a chair and put his horned head in his clawed hands.

“You’re awful.”

“Says the demon lawyer from Hell?”

“Doesn’t make it untrue.”

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help

ok i might be going crazy but i need the help of the harry potter fandom,,,, there was this fic on fanfic.net where harry time travelled back to first year but with all the knowledge that he had as a 30 something??? year old man. can’t really remember the details but an iconic moment was when he worked together with lockhart to sell their autographs together??? harry was really sassy and it was a complete crack fic but also fun to read,,, i cant find it now and i wanted to recommend it to a friend so ,,, if anyone knows what it is,, any help wld be much appreciated hahah :D 

sheherazade-deactivated20210507:

quotes that help me survive:

• “You are not lost. You are here. Stop abandoning yourself. Stop repeating this myth about love and success that will land in your lap or evade you forever. Build a humble, flawed life from the rubble, and cherish that. There is nothing more glorious on the face of the earth than someone who refuses to give up, who refuses to give in to their most self-hating, discouraged, disillusioned self, and instead learns, slowly and painfully, how to relish the feeling of building a hut in middle of the suffocating dust.” — Heather Havrilesky, Ask Polly
• this tumblr text post:

• “To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.” — Mary Oliver
• From an interview with Kazu Makino:

• Instructions On Not Giving Up, Ada Limon:

• And this poster by Yumi Sakugawa

• “You have to believe, in your heart, that even if you don’t work hard and exercise and think positive thoughts and make new friends and march triumphantly into the future, you are still enough. You will always have bad days. Being broken doesn’t make you a loser. You can crumble, and you will still be enough. Make that your religion moving forward. You are here to feel this moment. You are not here to become someone better. You are not here to impress or compete. You are not here to prove yourself. You are here to savor this life. Let down your guard. You are already enough. Believe it.” — Heather Havrilesky
• “The first feminist gesture is to say: “Ok. They’re looking at me. But I’m looking at them.” The act of deciding to look, of deciding that the world is not defined by how people see me, but by how I see them.” -Agnès Varda
• lyrics from the song Grow by The Oh Hellos:

• “The world’s otherness is antidote to confusion, that standing within this otherness—the beauty and the mystery of the world, out in the fields or deep inside books—can re-dignify the worst-stung heart.” — Mary Oliver
• “I hope you will go out and let stories, that is life, happen to you,and that you will work with these stories from your life–not someone else’s life–water them with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom. That is the work. The only work.” — Clarissa Pinkola Estes

(via jharokhe)

hungryboredandshort:

gonna be having my first ever o level exam tmr,,,, and im honestly just exhausted from all the revision ugh

not me now being an a level student WHEEZE i knew this shit was tough and yet i did it to myself again !

catboyg4mzee:

astralshipper:

hi i just want everyone to know that i will never ever EVER be angry with anyone for not replying to my texts even though you’re visibly online and reblogging/posting. i understand that holding a conversation takes a lot more energy and effort than scrolling and posting and that’s 100% okay. take care of yourself first. the whole idea that you HAVE to reply to someone when you’re online is toxic and makes mentally ill people feel as though they are bad friends just because they can’t always reply within minutes. 

THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT FINALLY SOMEBODY SAID IT

(via wonstals)