#do with it what you will

[zombieshaveheartstoo]

Frank calling himself the faggot from mcr

[fonthoura]

Hc where Garak knows Julian is a liar, but he can't, for the life of him, know what he's lying about.

Like, he has this feeling, given to him by years of training and an observant eyes, that Julian is very purposefully unauthentic, and it seems that no one else notices.

He sees how Julian talks a lot and overshares, but never really says anything, to the point where his friends would have a hard time answering any question about him, like, for fucks sake, it took reading his file to get to know his date of birth because no one knew.

Jadzia thinks he has a brother, Miles is convinced he has a sister, and Garak is fairly sure he is an only child, the problem is, Julian doesn't talk about it. He talks too much and hardly says anything.

Garak also notices how he is always tense, as if holding back, like when he lets himself be punched when he clearly sees it coming, when he let's things break even though Garak is sure he could've caught them mid air, how he seems to calculate the perfect amount of clumsy in a day (once he even bumped into Garak and pretended to be distracted) and no one notices.

But Garak does, Garak knows he is lying about something, he feels it, specially when he looses on games and arguments, like he could not think of something else but Garak sees it in his eyes that he is hiding something.

And Garak constantly gets worried, despite his best knowledge, about him.

He knows how lonely it is, to keep yourself hidden from the world, to not let anyone know you, to hold the weight of a thousand secrets on his body, and constantly he sees this weight taking it's toll on the doctor.

Julian keeps people at arms length, he gets close on condition, he larps with Miles, discuss literature with Garak and converses with Jadzia, but keeps them all compartmentalized, always distant, even his crush on Jadzia being shallow, no real depth to it.

Julian seems skin deep and Garak knows how it feels and aches for him.

So he constantly tries to scratch the surface, aways tries to get Julian out of his lie made shell like Julian does to him, and he doesn't succeed, but he keeps trying.

Specially after he finds out that Julian had been gone for a month and not even him noticed it, he knows it's because no one would, because Julian keeps so much of himself hidden that you can't distinguish him from a fake.

And then, doctor Zimmermann shows up...

[ministarfruit]

ALRIGHT FEMSLASHFEBLINGS bet you thought you'd seen the last of me, well, not so fast! here's next year's prompt list... with a twist. we're going EVIL, baby 💜

if you're new here, I do this every year!! can be any form of media, the only rule is to make it femslash (term is loose, whatever sapphic/GL/yuri content you want, throw 'em in the ring) and you can do as much or as little as you please. no series restrictions but please tag warnings appropriately. thanks and mwah mwah!

see you in february!

(full prompt list in text under the cut)

femslashfeb2024 (evil edition):

if only

please be gentle

your life is mine

doomed by the narrative

hands for holding

it still bleeds

come back soon

living dead

in the shadows

love is devotion

alternate timeline

karma

goddess

before you go

haunting

hourglass

weapons

once upon a time

partners-in-crime

chose violence

fantasy

anything for you

copycat

plagued by the horrors

your voice

apocalypse

diamond

made you smile

and then I found you

(p.s. no it doesn't have to be evil. take the prompts however you wish!)

[poetglasses]

In Defense of Jacks in ACFTL

I do have spoilers, so this is your warning not to venture further if you haven't finished reading.

First off, I love how the story was told and how it ended. Could we have gotten more of the other characters? Yes. Did we really need to? Maybe, but I certainly didn't mind the absence. I didn't think we needed to address every character that we've met. We saw Castor and Lala, and I was happy about it, but I was strictly here for Evajacks story, and that's what I got.

I think Eva and Jacks had character development in this novel.

Eva isn't as trusting and hopeful as she was in the previous two books, and I was happy about it! Girl was getting murder attempted on her, and her husband is a narcissistic, manipulative psychopath. The only people she could trust were 1) being kept away from her or 2) avoiding her because they thought they were doing the best thing for her if they did so *cough* jacks

Jacks watched the girl he loved die! He blamed himself for what happened to Eva, and then continued staying away because he felt guilty and thought he was keeping her safe in doing so. He didn't know Apollo took Eva's memories away. He was too busy making sure Castor didn't go within 10 feet of Eva because Castor did attack Jacks after he went back in time to save her! He was still around Eva, he was just hiding in the shadows or out in the balcony peering through the windows. He genuinely thought Apollo was the better choice for Eva because at least Apollo hadn't done anything to her (as far as he knew).

Jacks apologized to her under the phoenix tree, saying that when he went back in time, he thought the stones would have taken something from him, not Eva, or are we all ignoring that because of that beautiful love confession Eva gave? He wanted our girl to live! When Eva met Castor in the Cursed Forest, Jacks literally put a knife through his best friend's chest in fear of having a repeat of the first timeline! Castor wasn't even doing anything, he was just trying to have a conversation with her.

Jacks was the tortured lover we all knew him to be. He wasn't Jacks, Prince of Hearts, with a trail of deadly kisses in search of true love in this novel. He was Jacks of the Hollow, a man who loved his girl so much he wanted her to live instead of dying at his kiss. We all know how badly Eva wanted to kiss him, and we all know Jacks can hear her thoughts. Can we blame him for staying away? He literally said that if she died again, he could not bring her back. The idea of that was terrifying to him. He already used the stones, and going to Honora would have the possibility of turning her into a vampire, maybe worse.

Jacks felt different in this novel because he finally admitted how much he loves Eva. We've seen him do so many things for her throughout the series. Was he holding back in the other two books? I'd argue not really, but he certainly wasn't going to let her be with him. He didn't want to admit he was in love with her. Dude literally held her like a grudge in the first novel, a secret in the second novel, and then a promise in the third. The hints were there for us. He would literally do anything for her. He just didn't want to admit to himself he loved her because if he allowed himself to there was the possibility that she could die.

Does Eva die in this book? No, thank god. But don't act like you read their kiss scene and didn't fucking break a little when Jacks went "No! Not again".

[mooshed-out-shroom]

It’s the way he’s curled up in Simon’s arms after waking from his reoccurring hell. It wasn’t supposed to happen how it did. You were meant to be there, with him.

But now the sight of you haunts him every time he closes his eyes.

-

It’s the way he clings to Johnny, the only remaining piece of his heart, during another sleepless night.

You weren’t originally meant to join that mission.

But now all he can think about is the fear that had been in your eyes that day.

-

It’s the way Johnny is the first to speak this time, “I think… I think it’s time.”

“Bonnie never could sit still, ye know? We cannae, cannae force ‘er ta stay there.”

The way Simon’s voice cracks, helpless once again.

“I know.”

-

It’s the way neither shed tears, watching the ash catch the breeze, while overlooking that cliff.

But both break down on the drive home without you.

-

It’s the way, even once years pass, they keep habits learned from you.

Stick to the schedule they adopted with you.

The way they still use vocabulary and gestures picked up during the time you three were still just that.

Three.

-

It’s the way they both eventually begin to move forward.

But never manage to truly leave you behind.

[haemey]

Keep it hidden. Keep it safe.

The wall safe in Crowley’s flat was full of things. Things he kept locked away, out of sight, out of mind. Dangerous things. Things no one could ever find. Things he didn't want to have to think about. Things he should get rid of but couldn't. 

Hidden behind a face everyone knows.

Over the decades, the contents of the safe had changed. New things had been added, old ones, removed.

Currently, it held a thermos, empty to a drop but holding the memory of death and covered in beige and blue and red. It held a nail, old, rusty, made from iron, stained by something now dry. It held a single sterile apple seed, tucked away in a small silver box. It held a pressed flower, so old it had almost fully turned to dust. It held letters in black ink on white paper, sealed with golden wax, tied together with a cream silk ribbon. It held a grey feather. It held a book, bound in dark blue leather with gold embossing, the edges painted gold. It held a scrap of fabric, roughspun, woven from linen, yellowed with age, the golden trim discoloured and unravelling but holding on. It held a piece of meteor iron. It held a pair of broken sunglasses. It held a torn bit of paper, burned at the edges, with words that could spell his death. It held a polaroid, sealed away in an envelope, face down, hidden at the back of the safe.

Out of all the things, this might have been the most dangerous. The one no one could ever even know about. The one that hurt the most.

A single piece of paper. Its peril long past. 

Looking into the safe, one might think there was still space. That there was room between the neatly lined-up and stacked things. 

But the truth was that, while it could still admit as many things as Crowley needed it to, it was full. The still air behind the heavy closed door held its own meaning and memory.

In every crevice, every gap, between the loose sheets of the letters, the fibers of the fabric, within the small box, lived the most precious piece. Amongst all the contents of the safe, this was the one Crowley guarded the most closely.

It was where the demon had locked away his heart.

[crowwbones]

Burnt Leaves

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GNC Reader

SFW / Fluff & Comfort / No Dialogue / TW: Drug abuse mentions, mildly unhealthy coping with insomnia, one off-handed joke about dying

Summary: You deal with plenty of bullshit as is, and insomnia is just the straw threatening to break your back. You have your ways to deal with it, though. Seems like the skull masked lieutenant needs a new coping mechanism as well.

I may write more if people actually enjoy this, also i wrote this at like 3 am and i am dealing with insomnia myself, pls excuse if it sucks lmao

Being in the military was probably your best option. You weren't small or weak, you had quite a ways to go, sure, but you held your own. That's what initially impressed your training captain. You had a drive despite being depressed as shit. Which, maybe you lied to your recruiting officer. And the doctor. And your training sqaudron. But what's a little lie compared to staying in that drug den you reluctantly call home?

The harsh drills and tense, full body aching was nothing to you. Not compared to watching your mother be strung out on a stained, burned, broken couch while being left in the drug dealers care. Hell, or even when you had to help her find a dehydrated vein with a short and dull needle. Perhaps something that you considered a life saving skill, but it made you feel disgusting if you thought about it for too long.

You've been shifted around a few bases when you were needed, seeing as you were sort of an everyman. Excelled in the maintenance of weaponry, one hell of a mechanic, and maybe a few things you knew how to do that were definitely against the Geneva Convention. To be fair, though, if you had to decide between dying and using a makeshift gun that was severely out of regulation, you'd take your chances in court.

But all of this shifting around and half assed childhood you had lead to even more goddamn problems you didn't need. Often, maybe every few nights every single week, you dealt with insomnia. Bad weeks had you trying to fight the uncomfortable disorder every night, but you lucked out with having to deal with it half the time usually.

It was always so uncomfortable. The inside of your skin felt like it was covered in small pyramid-shaped cones that pressed into every nerve where there was pressure. Your eyes were heavy but never heavy enough to induce sleep. Your mind would never fog up the way it was supposed to. And it drove you absolutely crazy.

You had a few ways to deal with it, as most chronic sufferers do. Sometimes you accepted it and laid there until pure exhaustion won. Your worst option.

Most of the time, though, you'd already spent a few hours hoping, tossing and turning in restlessness before getting up. You'd lace your boots and try to walk it off. Speed up the exhaustion process manually. And it worked maybe 50 percent of the time. And you'd collapse back into your bunk, shoes still on and pillow over your head, and get just enough sleep that you wouldn't hate yourself in the morning.

And the nights that even that didn't work, you'd find yourself in the kitchenette of the rec area. You'd stare desperately at the coffee pot you were using to heat up water while you waited to choke down a bland, bitter chamomile tea. You couldn't stand tea on its own. You didn't have a sweet tooth, but you could accept when something needed a little bit of sweetness.

This often settled you down enough. The overwhelming tired made you cry in the barely lit room while your tea steeped, palms pressed into your burning eyes as you wished you'd just fucking sleep. And you'd stop. You'd drink your tea. And get enough sleep to function.

And you fell into this pattern and habit.

Until this one mother fucker.

See, you ended up being called in to aid in the upkeep up vehicles and guns at a fairly large base that served as home grounds to plenty of "real soliders". You didn't pay mind to many of them, but Captain Price's team at least treated you decently since you were the one making sure their guns jammed significantly less. However, Ghost creeped you the fuck out.

That teams lieutenant was horrifying to you. He stood way too tall, was way too broad to move that fucking quietly. He held this awful aura to him that was completely unreadable. And he barely ever spoke to you in a way that didn't feel like a back handed... well, you wouldn't even call them compliments. The man would stare more often than breathe, just watch you move about your job from the doorways and wait for you to notice he was there before declaring that he would have been able to kill you six different ways by that point. You've been able to get that number down to four, at least.

And for some reason. This also included your overstimulated and tired crying time at the coffee pot at 2 a.m. as well. It seemed like it was his third time just watching you when he spoke up for the first time, mostly just asking what the hell you were doing. You'd jump out of your skin, a blessing of a feeling if it didn't shoot unnerving shivers down your spine, and stammer out a half coherent response about tea leaves. And then he just... stood there. Watching you drink your tea and then leave after you were done.

At some point during this routine, he'd started to invite himself to sit across from you at the small table. He never really struck up conversations, though you swore you could see amusement in his eye as you made faces at the bitter tea. He knew you were burning the leaves, but he couldn't tell you that. Listening to another person rip into him about being British was very low on his to-do list.

This became comfortable. You began to tolerate his shadow-like presence. Maybe even enjoyed the silent company. You could guess that he was suffering the same just from how tired his eyes looked past the mask. Maybe he too found solace in a shared solidarity that you two really haven't expressed. It was bittersweet. Two barely functioning and sleep deprived people finding a space to relax, lit only by a half burnt out overhead lamp. Maybe, even if a bit selfishly, you had begun to go a little morr often judt for the company of a man you didn't know the actual name of.

Ghost never left before you, but only arrived after you began heating some water. He never had a cup himself, sat himself in the same chair, and limited himself to a handful of yrs or no questions a night. You didn't mind.

But he once again found a way to disrupt this routine.

You were reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet above you, your other hand grabbing the coffee pot of hot water. You heard him move, which honestly should have been your que to turn around, and you felt him standing directly behind you. He covered your hand on the handle with his much larger one and practically forced you to let him grab the pot. He grabbed two mugs and moved off to the side, only meeting your eyes when you didn't move.

What ever fucking compelled him to do that, you had no idea. You were staring with bloodshot eyes and still even had your hand vaguely where the pot was. He simply nodded his head to the table and turned back to the mugs.

Guess you weren't making your tea? Deep down, thr angsty teen part of you hoped it was the forever sleep kind of deal. But that was dumb, so you shook your head a little to ignore that.

Ghost set your mug down on the table before sitting himself across from you, lifting his mask up enough to take a drink.

You've yet to see him do that, so your brain was just kind of off at this point. You stared, not that you meant to, as the man replaced his mask and set his mug down, staring back at you with a quirked brow. You looked down in a daz3 before grabbing your own mug, taking a long sip. Did he make a different kind of tea? Why the hell did it taste so... so much better? Your confusion actually earned you a small laugh from the other, a quiet, muffled chuckle from under his mask. That shouldn't have given you butterflies. He still scared you, after all.

He never explained himself, but from then on, you left the tea making duties to him and he didn't seem to mind. You fell into the pattern of getting there before your insomnia got into full swing every night, starting the water and getting the mugs. Then your midnight partner would show up and handle the rest.

As much as the mask gave you the creeps, it was growing on you. Like the previously bitter tea. 

[charmingradiobelle]

That one scene in Titanic where she jumps off the lifeboat and back onto the sinking ship bc she can’t bare to leave behind the man she loves; that but make it Charlastor✨ I just know damn well Charlie would refuse to leave Alastor behind in any scenario but I know this one in particular would work best in a human AU. Plus imagine them having that same reunion moment where they’re both in tears and trembling as they embrace each other?? Al kissing her while repeatedly screaming “you’re so stupid!! Why did you do that?!” AND THEN SHE DELIEVERS THE ICONIC “you jump, I jump” UGHGHGHG

[allmightluver]

I made a thing

[stocious]

part two

[korellation]

Including all of the cool tattoos he already has... Does Liu Kang also have a tramp stamp

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

The pussy demands a sacrifice

[sowearecleariamhere]

While watching THAT scene at the end of act 3, I felt weirdly reminded of something else... took me until just now to put it together

If I had a nickel for every time..

[bawawawawaguitarsolofuckyeah]

"You really are quite insane, my dear...weeping for a sinner like me."

"Alastor...I-"

"It's- disgusting. stop. Just...stop... please"

[sesshy380]

New WereKat AU character refs!

First up, we have Fae Yugi, a Seelie Prince!

Yugi doesn't really enjoy all of the pressure of his status. He doesn't feel he's anyone special just because of a title. He'd much rather just enjoy the little things in life, and not have to worry about all the trivialities of the Fae Courts.

Thankfully there's one Fae that is of a similar mindset, and helps him to sneak out into the lower levels of the city on occasion.

Meet Unseelie Atem, a noble and member of the Unseelie High Court!

Atem is devilishly free-spirited. Court? Boring. Tedious. Snore. The Geal’drache, most popular casino/hotspot in the city of Dominus? Fun! Exciting! Been kicked out by the Elven CEO, Kaiba, more times than he can count but it doesn't stop him from coming back!(Seriously though, despite their rivalry, he knows Kaiba enjoys having him around for the entertainment)

That's about all I have for these two. Not much, I know, but they are more plot movement characters than anything.

I just felt like drawing them and showing them off. I had to laugh when I first did Yugi's outfit, because it has strong Han Solo vibes lol.