#dark imagery

[uncannyarchive]

Witches by William Mortensen (1920s-1930s)

#witches #grotesque photography #fine art #glamour photographer #William Mortensen #witchy #witchy photography #black and white #bnw #fine art photography #analogue photography #dark imagery

[shadowedaiartistry]

A Sorrowful Shade

#shadowedaiartistry #goth #darkly inclined #dark imagery #photo set #image set

[nyxbellum]

~𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗~

"𝔐𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡, 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔭𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔞𝔨."

Digital artwork done by me. DM for purchase details

#art #artwork #horror #religious imagery #expressionism #dark #dark imagery #atrium carceri #anti religion #grunge #aesthetic #digital art #artists on tumblr

[ladytanithia]

Sometimes a Wild God

by Tom Hirons

So beautiful and evocative, I had to share with all my writing friends. I grew up pagan, so I think of Herne, but fellow Skyrim fans will also think of Hircine.

@dirty-bosmer @gwilin-stay-winnin @mareenavee @skyrim-forever @thana-topsy @thechaosdragoness @thequeenofthewinter

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.

He is awkward and does not know the ways

Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.

His voice makes vinegar from wine.

When the wild god arrives at the door,

You will probably fear him.

He reminds you of something dark

That you might have dreamt,

Or the secret you do not wish to be shared.

He will not ring the doorbell;

Instead he scrapes with his fingers

Leaving blood on the paintwork,

Though primroses grow

In circles round his feet.

You do not want to let him in.

You are very busy.

It is late, or early, and besides…

You cannot look at him straight

Because he makes you want to cry.

The dog barks.

The wild god smiles,

Holds out his hand.

The dog licks his wounds

And leads him inside.

The wild god stands in your kitchen.

Ivy is taking over your sideboard;

Mistletoe has moved into the lampshades

And wrens have begun to sing

An old song in the mouth of your kettle.

‘I haven’t much,’ you say

And give him the worst of your food.

He sits at the table, bleeding.

He coughs up foxes.

There are otters in his eyes.

When your wife calls down,

You close the door and

Tell her it’s fine.

You will not let her see

The strange guest at your table.

The wild god asks for whiskey

And you pour a glass for him,

Then a glass for yourself.

Three snakes are beginning to nest

In your voicebox. You cough.

Oh, limitless space.

Oh, eternal mystery.

Oh, endless cycles of death and birth.

Oh, miracle of life.

Oh, the wondrous dance of it all.

You cough again,

Expectorate the snakes and

Water down the whiskey,

Wondering how you got so old

And where your passion went.

The wild god reaches into a bag

Made of moles and nightingale-skin.

He pulls out a two-reeded pipe,

Raises an eyebrow

And all the birds begin to sing.

The fox leaps into your eyes.

Otters rush from the darkness.

The snakes pour through your body.

Your dog howls and upstairs

Your wife both exults and weeps at once.

The wild god dances with your dog.

You dance with the sparrows.

A white stag pulls up a stool

And bellows hymns to enchantments.

A pelican leaps from chair to chair.

In the distance, warriors pour from their tombs.

Ancient gold grows like grass in the fields.

Everyone dreams the words to long-forgotten songs.

The hills echo and the grey stones ring

With laughter and madness and pain.

In the middle of the dance,

The house takes off from the ground.

Clouds climb through the windows;

Lightning pounds its fists on the table.

The moon leans in through the window.

The wild god points to your side.

You are bleeding heavily.

You have been bleeding for a long time,

Possibly since you were born.

There is a bear in the wound.

‘Why did you leave me to die?’

Asks the wild god and you say:

‘I was busy surviving.

The shops were all closed;

I didn’t know how. I’m sorry.’

Listen to them:

The fox in your neck and

The snakes in your arms and

The wren and the sparrow and the deer…

The great un-nameable beasts

In your liver and your kidneys and your heart…

There is a symphony of howling.

A cacophony of dissent.

The wild god nods his head and

You wake on the floor holding a knife,

A bottle and a handful of black fur.

Your dog is asleep on the table.

Your wife is stirring, far above.

Your cheeks are wet with tears;

Your mouth aches from laughter or shouting.

A black bear is sitting by the fire.

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.

He is awkward and does not know the ways

Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.

His voice makes vinegar from wine

And brings the dead to life.

Words: Tom Hirons at Coyopa - Tom's book, Sometimes a Wild God, which contains this and many other FINE examples of his wordsmithing is available via this link ---> http://shop.hedgespoken.org/products/sometimes-a-wild-god Please support artists & their work!

Art: Illustration by Janne Pitkanen & concept & photography by Harri Halme (from the album cover The Spirit of Ukko by Finnish band Kiuas)

#poetry #dark imagery #wild #god #pagan

[crypticoctoberdays]

Credit:

@/deathintheheavens 320 color palette Challenge

Day 1: Between the Roses

“All has life. All has not. We are all born to die. We all live to rot. Life keeps going yet nothing is the same. I have decayed the flowers remain. We all live to die and die to live. Life lives on death and life we all give.”

#original poem #poetry #short poem #poem #art #digital art #october event #day 1 October event #deer skull #flowers #fall leaves #flower art #animal art #dark imagery #dark poetry

[thenightpoem]

Power

An elixir of change

The bane of our lives

Before it the pieces rearrange

Its mystery, deeper than the hieroglyphs

From philosophers to astronomers

From gardeners to emperors

From elders to youngsters

All united by a silhouette

So unique yet so widespread

Is it a Light of hope, or a hidden threat?

A divine miracle , or an eternal debt?

Once set upon the mind

It makes all that it touches blind

It’s hunger never ending

Its hunt unwavering

Its rampage uncontrollable

Its yearning eternal

Growing, expanding, over all it towers

All that is good and pure it greedily devours

A Treasure of the gods?

Veils woven from within

Twisted in whirling knots

Is this how it’s always been?

Its almighty strenght

Like Moises it cuts Deep

Makes all bow at its knee

And those below it weep

A sword so great

Not many can withstand its weight

Or wield it without faith

Shatterer of the Iron gate

They came from far and wide

To wield it all have tried

But instead they’re tied

And at its stone all died

A beast, a monster

Hate and jealousy foster

Taming it is a quest

A true character’s test

But What is this beast

This tall Crystal tower

For which our souls is it feast

That my friends is........simply power

#thenightraven’ssonnets #tumblr poets #power #inner darkness #monsters #philosphicalpoetry #philosophy #big questions #heavyburden #big sword #iron gates #dark imagery #deepreflection #whatispower #Spotify

[ressaart]

it felt like being in a body that didn’t exist. like floating through the stratosphere constantly aware that in the next moment you will plummet to your own death; every atom in your body compressed and forced against each other in the most brutal proof of existence upon impact.

it felt like the blood pumping through your body a million miles a minute but going so slow you can hear them bouncing off the walls of your arteries.

like the intake of breath that comes quickly as you realize you’re falling, but the choked off feeling when you hit the floor. because you almost got hurt worse than you actually did and in that single, terrifying moment you thought you had touched the clouds in that horrifying impermanent way that said you would be dead from one breath to the next.

it was the clink of a glass against another because tomorrow doesn’t exist yet though we yearn for the time not yet promised more than we do the present, the tomorrow of yesterday. because remembering the time we lost fills us with a melancholy so visceral our tears don’t come.

it is a promise of violence to something intangible, the pain of something that doesn’t exist but could.

its the past in the future, the mistake you keep making, the song you hate stuck in your head.

because our nightmares are creatures of our own making, fears we can’t explain and tears that fall behind the veil of our secrets.

#tagged untagged #my writing #idk this has been sitting in my notes app for ages so i just decided to post it #dark imagery

[yjsgirl]

我爱你

🫶🏼 .❀。• *

#kpop moodboard #moodboard #dark moodboard #tomorrow x together #txt #txt moodboard #yeonjun #messy moodboards #messy icons #kpop boys #dark imagery #dark icons #dark acadamia aesthetic #light academia

[the-most-sublime-fool]

#jonathan strange and mr norrell #susanna clarke #quotes #gothic #dark imagery #gothic aesthetic #excerpts #typography #morbid #to save

[kenny-alghul]

Crazy Jane♡

#Doom patrol #80s comics #80s nostalgia #80s goth #Trad goth #Dark comics #dark illustration #Dark imagery #Goth illustration #grant morrison #Doom patrol dc #Doom patrol show

[artis-dead]

#skeleton #dark imagery #skull

[nyxbellum]

+++ 𝕷𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝖕𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖆𝖜𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 +++ 🩸🩸🩸

Reposted from Kristof Bathory's Facebook page

#dawn of ashes #doa #kristof bathory #corpse paint #makeup #horror makeup #metal #industrial #industrial metal #industrial music #dark #dark imagery #live music #concert #festival #music festival #music #suffering #art #dark art

[incredibleimagesblog]

Halloweeny

#halloween #nightphotography #photography #original phtotographers #photos #dark imagery #moodyedits #moodynature #folkmore #black art

[thematticus]

I used my heart strings to stitch up my wounds and now my scars bleed when my heart aches.

They stain my sheets and dye my clothes. The patchwork of strength now leaks with time. Old threads infecting new skin, rotting me from the outside in.

The unbreakable threads that held me together now keep me from breathing. Bloody knots tighten around my throat, squelching the screams that were once proud and passionate. Sutures close my eyes while my feet are threaded into my grave.

I tore at the fabric of my soul and now it shall be rewoven into the earth, one stitch at a time.

A warrior born from pain and blood now shackled in his own irons.

Fresh leaves dripping with thick red ichor, it is always raining under the willow tree.

#creative writing #stick around #poetry? #dark imagery #blood #idek #a piece im proud of?

[writingforevren]

WIP Intro (re:intro) - Rainclouds

Rain clouds, y'know those little thoughts that seem to pester you mind when you try to convince yourself that everything is fine? yeah that's what this story is about. LGBTQ+ students in a small town in britain dealing with that voice coming to life as a shadow in their minds. Bittersweet and full of twists and turns. Dark imagery meets slow-burn romance that's seemingly destined for failure. Shattered glass, shattered thoughts, but maybe there is a way to clear the rain, to let someone in. But what if letting them in is what leads to the bridge collapse?

{ The Basics }

Genre - Queer YA Fiction

Themes & Tropes - Dark Imagery, Sapphic, LGBTQ+ Characters, POC characters, ASD/ADHD characters, Mental disorder, Slow-burn, Romance, Bittersweet, Self-discovery, Dreamlike Descriptions, Found Family, Ghosts, Mystery, Isolation, and Tragedy.

Setting - Fictional town in the U.K, Modern Era.

Status - Drafting & Editing

Projected Word Count - 100,000

Point Of View - Third Person Limited (Two character POVs)

Content Warning - Contains Dark Topics such as self-harm, suicidal thoughts, violence, homophobia, bullying, mentions of rape, and abuse.

{ Story Description }

Sylvia Hawthorn is plagued by loneliness as she moves away from the big city and back to the town she grew up in. A little brick house full of secrets, some buried, and others begging to be revealed. Her only friend seems to be that of a ghost, a ghost whom she isn’t sure is real or if it was a conjuring of her vast imagination. A vast imagination that always seems to be going full speed ahead whether that is into the light or into the darkness. 

The Darkness forms itself to be a human, it looks like her but only houses those thoughts and nightmares that she locks away. She’s supposed to be the perfect daughter, her mum insists on it and will settle for no less. So maybe that’s why she tries her best to lock that darkness away for no one to find... until it starts to overflow, to overwhelm, and to drag her into the depths of her own mind.

 Reunions with old friends who didn’t want to be found, new friends who were dealing with problems that might even have been far greater than her own. Curiosity killed the cat right? Well she is the cat, incredibly curious and stepping into problems that aren’t hers to solve, and she ends up getting involved with something far bigger than her own demons.

River Flynn is fine, at least she pretends to be. Constantly changing schools due to little tifs just because she refuses to take other people’s bullshit. It’s  always been the same and she’s pissed about it, pissed at the world, at her family, at everyone. Her mum decided to float, and her dad blames her for it. 

It seems like there’s always something wrong with her, that’s what everyone tells her. Like she’s a serial killer waiting to happen or something, or a vase on the edge of a shelf close to shattering into a million pieces. And maybe she is, nobody understands her, nobody wants her, maybe people would actually pay attention if she does something about it. 

So far, no matter what she does, nothing makes it better, nothing makes the anger go away, nothing makes the hurt less hurtful. Her heart is coated in darkness and she needs someone to pull her out of it, someone to grab that little drop of vulnerability that was left before a hard shell is formed never to be broken again. Sometimes she wants to make others feel the hurt that she does. But when friendly faces show up in her life in unlikely circumstances and try to help, there’s a little speck of light that tries to break through the cloud cover. A warmth that she hasn’t felt since she was a small child.

{ Message Behind The Story }

My Idea was to associate mental ‘disorders’ with the idea of rain clouds, they come and go and sometimes the rain is heavier than others. I don’t like to call them disorders, I like to think of them as clouds and storms, something natural that happens to everyone.

Every storm is different and everyone’s experiences are different. I want to use this story to bring to light all of those storms people deal with everyday and to say that there’s nothing wrong with you even if you think so. This story does get dark, so if you’re dealing with severe depression or suicidal thoughts I would recommend you don’t read it, talk to a friend about the storm rather then letting it build up into a flood.

These clouds can also represent things like ADHD like there’s cloud cover hiding your ability to focus, or the way that having Autism can sometimes make it so it’s much harder to recognize emotions on others faces. These aren’t ‘disorders’ they make everyone unique and different and sometimes life is a bit harder to get through when you have rain clouds over your head but that doesn’t mean you’re broken.

This story also covers the connection between rain clouds and exploring your sexual/romantic and gender orientation which I think is another topic that needs to be talked about more.

{ Rainclouds Playlist }

I often find myself creating stories with specific vibes to them and a playlist can help me and my readers get in the right mindset for that story.

So here’s a link 

{ Notes & Conclusion }

Hi, I know the description is a bit of vague but I didn’t want to give any spoilers away. I’ll probably update this post more later when I have a clear idea of the plot. I’m starting to redraft and rearrange a lot of it because I haven’t touched it for a few months and my writing style has changed a bit since then. 

I’m not sure how much I’ll be posting the writing process considering I’ve had this project in process for like three years at this point and it’s been very slow-going. Also River is a very different character then I originally made because I wanted her to have a unique perspective from Sylvia. 

I hope you found yourself intrigued by my story, I have more that I’d love to share in the future as well. I really want to get back into writing again and this is my first step.

If you’re a writer or a reader I’d love to hear your opinions or just chat if you’d like. Also if you like the idea of this story I’d appreciate a reblog and I also have a taglist if you’d wanna be added. Love to you all and remember that no matter how bad it gets there’s always a light in the storm <3

#writeblr #writing #amwriting #wip #wip intro #original writing #wip: rainclouds #renwrites #ya fiction #sapphic #lgbtq+ #dark imagery #slow burn #bittersweet #mystery #isolation #romance #found family #dreamy #asd #adhd #mental health #mental disorder #depression #bpd #anxiety #poc

[satans-left-cornea]

#pills #poison #dark imagery #suit