Lapulta

Prompt: Person deciding whether to use power for good or evil. "So this is it then," Prussia screamed. The vortex was swirling around them, the force of the black hole ripping shreds of concrete into space around them. The background was a sickly red-blue and France was pretty sure they had minutes. Maybe less. Or they were both going to be sucked into that bloated thing. "It's not fair, Francis." France punched him again, and Gilbert jerked under the blow. His cheek was starting to bruise a purple color that looked faded in the dark glow of the looming space. "Life isn't fair!" "Yeah? Well maybe you never thought that you're a creepy-ass

I think I know why at times, my attachments felt dry; because I am a wind and while the world is pinned I will drift away. Into the sunset, into the deep-wet that hides the world’s secrets. I will sink. The people I knew will be memories and I long for them as the people I knew. Quite few, my ones true. They will call me, out of the blue and I will wish them well with silky words and smiles and insufficient answers on why I am hidden. They want me near them. I wish I understood where people found the energy to be real and to be real-fake and to be fake-fake and to be fakest because I can’t be arsed about the effort. (Rhyming

It was a girl. No, a young woman. Her face was too old to be a girl's and she had a bit of liveliness as if the double-z-energy children always contained still hadn't faded from her nervous system. She was wearing jeans that fitted snugly all the way above her hips. Which meant no tripping, he realized. Quite a pity that only low-cuts fell easily; it wasn’t like he could even try. The young woman wasn’t decked out like most her age either. She only wore a blue high-scoop t-shirt and blue tennis shoes to compliment the jeans from top to bottom. Of course. Tennis shoes; the faster to run away with. A sliver of a grin crept onto Jame

Summary: In which Elizabeth and Jean are like- Halloween, wtf. And Edward takes it upon himself to educate them. [Because dA makes me sad by low size thresholds I had to split this into 3 parts. Links are embedded in the -cont.- on each page.] -=-(*)-=- The room looked pretty damn nice if he was to say anything about it. He’d scrounged up the most garishly orange items he could find - which ended up being an ancient coat he shredded and tied back together to string around the room, two plastic pill containers he smashed into little orange plastic bits, five pieces of a pumpkin mold (and he smashed those too), an orange glowstick from

I think I know why at times, my attachments felt dry; because I am a wind and while the world is pinned I will drift away. Into the sunset, into the deep-wet that hides the world’s secrets. I will sink. The people I knew will be memories and I long for them as the people I knew. Quite few, my ones true. They will call me, out of the blue and I will wish them well with silky words and smiles and insufficient answers on why I am hidden. They want me near them. I wish I understood where people found the energy to be real and to be real-fake and to be fake-fake and to be fakest because I can’t be arsed about the effort. (Rhyming

Scribble #1 - (Poor Slendy) "Fraaank!" A man turns from the doorway he has to crouch to enter, revealing the peculiar feature of his smooth and very white face; the fact that he has none. He is bald, but this doesn't seem to bother him as he wears neither cap, nor wig. "Fraaank," the voice repeats. A woman appears from a side room. She is extraordinarily stretched, like her husband, and also has no features or covering on her face. This is confounding in itself because she is quite loud. She crouches in the doorway, leaning against the wall. "How did it go this time?" The man sits down in a nearby chair and buries his face in his long, al