#i am eternal

[willpowers]

im not dying. im not dying. im sick and cancerous but its small and treatable and im not going to die. do not fear my death, i will never die.

[marshymashers]

to play games with humans is to imply i am fundementally near them in importance and that is just not true.

humans use the things i lack to attempt some sort of domiance act. they use these emotions i cant decipher to try to claim a stack in life. they challenge me in contests of chiviliary. in contests of heart. to try to show my unworthyness.

but when you are a diety, you dont need any of those things. they are not even specks in the greater fabric that makes this world whole. they might have heart but they lack a soul. a soul thats wooven into the fabric of the world itself.

your words are nothing to my claws, your promises are nothing to my convictions. you are worthless vermin who lack the sheer force i possess. i do not play games of heart i play games of winning.

if to gain the heart of my desired i must be the only one standing then its my perferd outcome.

you want to give them your all.

i will give them everything. your worthless body, the stars, the moons and whatever else they desire.

[cyberelle2087]

First time the time bean has visited

every time my bf says “for the time being” i respond with “for the time bean” and then we say “all hail the time bean” and carry on the conversation like nothing happened

[drenched-in-sunlight]

i think whenever Marika was on the edge of spiraling, only Messmer knew how to pull her back.

(my art is always based on this theory)

[abby-howard]

Some folks were asking whether the frames in the new trailer were hand-drawn: yah!

I tape them to my desk and just draw little crosshairs on each so I can line them up post-scanning. I tried to get a pegboard but they were too small ToT Paper for ants...

[theonewhowails]

do you ever wonder how old the twins are? how long have they been with the one who waits? do you ever think about how much of that time in the veil narinder spent totally alone, about how much of a stabilizing presence it might have been to have literally else around, after all that time? i think about it a completely normal amount, personally,

[autismmydearwatson]

Every time I watch Dune I forget about it but I'm foaming at the mouth over how Paul has a vision of himself as a powerful, respected, divine figure with millions worshipping him and he just says "Somebody help me"

[sophsun1]

There was a light in his eyes. A light I had not seen for years.

Interview With The Vampire – 2.07: I Could Not Prevent It

[bruciemilf]

“I am who I am because of Crime Alley”

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[polycraftory]

This came to me in a vision at 3 AM and I got out of bed to make it.

- Gabe

[overtake]

8 Grand Prix Wins. 32 Podiums. 3 Pole Positions. 17 Fastest Laps. 1329 Points.

These are achievements so many drivers could never dream of. Fuck 'em all.

[killjo-q]

shaded in some of the other marika sketches I had

[aceredshirt13]

the double-edged sword of old British literature is that there’s a solid chance it’ll feel gay but there’s an equally solid chance it’ll also feel racist

[weaksspot]

long as i am loving you you’ll never be alone long as you keep wanting me around

[mxdzin]

something that has always been inside you