#'from my cage to hers'

[jmmelody]

George, why do you have to be so cute?? Ugh, I want only the best for him.

[molinaesque]

You know why these boys brought you in? 'Cause I f*cked up a poor, defenseless gang-affiliated organ dealership? Yep. Mm.

[iidsch]

very underrated mizu is when she looks like this

[deeva-arud]

So, about that one AU that's been marinating in my mind for years

[yashley]

Did she keep you trapped?

[dykedvonte]

I know realistically fallout 4’s cast of companions would destroy a settlement if they were left alone there for too long together but I think it’s even funnier if they are aggressively playing nice because they are all connected 6 degrees from Kevin Bacon style through the Sole Survivor.

It’s like they are all collectively dating this one person who happened to just bag people from like every possible political opposite but ig they won’t try and shoot each other for the day cause it makes SS smile when they see them getting along or whatever.

[wickedcriminal]

An alternative direction for Stryke Out where Elder gets stuck in a cage, Toothless is the top competitor for more than a few dragon fights, and— what's this? By Thor, there's a colorful mood dragon here, and she can speak Norse! What are the odds of that?

Little does Elder know that wherever this mood dragon is, Camicazi will be close behind.

[s0fter-sin]

ghost stares at the ceiling, chest heaving in a harsh pant; sweat ice on his clammy flesh and soaked into the sheet he restlessly kicks away.

ears still ringing, his fingertips blindly drift down to trail along his vivisection scar. he half-expects blood to smear in their wake. his own line of solomon, who ordered him split in twain; half of him given to a grieving mother and half left with the grieving to be.

just for both his broken halves to be rejected.

what did it make him that his mother grieved him more than she loved him? that she begged to be relieved of him more adamantly than she begged to receive him? why did his worth spill out with his drawn blood? why was his pain lesser than hers?

his hand flexes, digging into the raised scar like it’ll part beneath his fingertips to plunge into his mangled insides. no one knows the cruelty of reforming the halved; his name, his being, not nearly as important as his body when he was stripped from himself. no one knows the pain of healing and understanding losing pieces of yourself means losing your value along with them.

how many more pieces did he have to lose before he was halved once more? before his very presence incurred grief so strong it was better to be rid of him than cradle his bloodied remains?

did the infant fight himself? did he age always at odds with himself; his halves never truly whole? he hopes he wasn’t, that he was spared the loss of self; the fear that one may be welcomed over the other.

who will he lose when the inevitable comes? when he’s ripped apart again? simon? or ghost? is it better to be cursed with choice just like his mother or live with an aftermath chosen for him? does it matter if in the end, he convinces himself there was nothing of him left to lose?

his head lolls to the side and the wild buck of his chest slows. he watches johnny beside him, his face lax with the rare peace of sleep; his cheek squished against the pillow, his lips pursed as long breaths escape him.

johnny. soap. never torn asunder but two all the same.

he carefully reaches out and ghosts his fingers along the jagged scar on his chin. even in sleep, he presses into his bloodied touch. he’s never fled his half-flesh, never shies away from his gore as it spills unbidden from his cleaved torso. he holds on where his mother let him go; cups his stomach to hold his insides in place and never minds the blood that drips through his fingers.

simon will never let him become his own solomon and cannibalise himself. he will never let him question which half of him has more value; which pieces he can afford to lose before he’s cast aside.

ghost’s soap. simon’s johnny. his.

whole, in any incarnation.

[artbyfuji]

honk if u love summer rose pin-ups 🍓🍫

[averlym]

fairest of the fair

[thedeadthree]

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ➸ irulanne . the rook .

𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 . 𝐄𝐋𝐅 . 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄 .

-`. template by @kanos . coloring . icons .

✧ ― 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (ask to be added or removed or interact 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞!!):

@pavus, @wlwaerith, @shadowsofrose, @grapecaseschoices, @nokstella

@queennymeria, @risingsh0t, @carrionsflower, @leviiackrman, @griffin-wood

@confidentandgood, @aceghosts, @tommyarashikage, @shadowglens, @yharnams

@anoras, @theelderhazelnut, @florbelles, @celticwoman, @pinkfey

@kyberinfinitygems, @cloudofbutterflies92, @carlosoliveiraa, @shellibisshe, @adelaidedrubman

@lavampira, @capelizabeth, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @statichvm, @unholymilf

@aezyrraeshh, @imogenkol, @aceghosts, @full---ofstarlight, @ellierenae

[starleska]

brain is still so scrambled from watching The Legend of Ruby Sunday and Empire of Death in cinemas yesterday but...all i can say is. that felt too easy. far too easy. are we willing to bet that Ruby's story is not entirely over, and when she returns in the next season we will be unearthing that? or am i coping?

[ihavesomejays]

in the name of love

amn double post today? insane considering that it's me. anyways i finished 2.2 penacony quest and ARGHGHFGJKHSKGHFSJ SUNDAY WHY WHY WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DO THE WRONG THINGS FOR THE RIGHT REASONS WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS arhgh it makes me grab my knees and scream... sunday... you poor, broken, megalomaniac, soft-hearted madman...

textless/closeups below keep reading

[tongues--and--teeth]

Post-War Golden Cheese and Dark Cacao my beloveds <3

[mothercetrion]

I feel like no one is talking about Johnny’s ex-wife’s southern accent. love it. where is she from

[corallapis]

We're opening up a rift in the Braccatolian space. Won't see us coming. Kind of scary. Then stop. Once the Empire is established, and there's a new Gallifrey in the heavens, maybe then it stops... the drumming, the never ending drumbeat. Ever since I was a child, I looked into the Vortex — that's when it chose me. The drumming, the call to war. Can't you hear it?