#<- something that ISNT someone close to you DYING

[pineconnie]

i’m still tweaking over how parrot didn’t apologise to wifies in the recent ep WHG WAS IT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. WHY IS WIFIES APOLOGISING GET UP WIFIES YOU DIDNT DO ANYTHING WRONG!!!!! HOLY SHIT I HATE THESE GUYS THEYRE SO DOOMED

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.

[jello-chennie]

relationship hcs!

✧ pairing izuku, katsuki, eijirou, shouto w/ fem!reader

✧ genre/tw fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

✧ a/n check out my masterlist!

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ izuku ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

isn't at all sure about how he pulled you

but he did and he isnt complaining

would absolutely love a kind soul in his partner

he swoons anytime you do little things to take care of him like if you know he has a pretty busy day, even if you're busy too, you go out of your way to make him a cup of coffee or tea and you always seem to get it just right

or whenever he's super focused on something the past few days and starts getting a little scatter brained, he'll forget to eat

if you're in ua, you'll share your lunch with him (which he will deny at first, but when you start pouting at him, he cant say no)

if he's a pro-hero and working, you take him out to lunch on his break

doesn't matter how far into your relationship you two are, he's always getting flustered by you

despite that, he's always trying to make you laugh (even if it means dying inside from embarrassment)

izuku cannot formally confirm or deny whether or not he may or may not be intentionally getting a few extra bumps and scrapes just so you can take the time to gently and lovingly bandage his wounds

loves it when you cut his hair for him!

even when you mess up (his chest will hurt a little with embarrassment whenever he's out in public, but only a little bc you did something for him, and he loves that more than anything else)

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ katsuki ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

totally would end up in a relationship in which you are his polar opposite

everyone is confused

but it totally works!

you're super shy and sweet, and hes audacious and a little abrasive

he pulls you out of your shell and makes you become less of a doormat, you reign him in a bit and round out his sharper edges

when he takes you to meet his parents, it doesn't fly past him that the two of you have a dynamic that reminds him of his parents

which pisses him off to no end bc that means he truly is his mother's son

he's become his mother

bakugou doesn't form close relationships easily, and is definitely an all or nothing kind of guy

once you're in, you're locked in

it doesn't take him very long to start fantasizing about marriage and kids once you officially become a couple

he is you're personal chef

and once you both enter the workforce, he takes extreme pride in making your lunch for you

can and will enter a silent competition with the significant other's of your coworkers for who can make the best bento

probably makes a social media page dedicated to making cooking videos in which he posts aesthetic af videos of him making meals for you

"pro-hero dynamite is famous on the internet for also being a gourmet chef!"

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ eijirou ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

kirishima would definitely fall for someone super fem presenting

he works out all the time and has all these muscles solely for the purpose of carrying things for you

and carrying you

afterall, that's what a real man does

will stop and buy all the pretty things he sees in store that remind him of you

likes it when you stick some of your cute stickers you make him take you to the mall to go buy onto his gear

is tickled pink by headlines that show up the next day like "red riot big sanrio fan?"

has matching sanrio keychains on his phone case with you

loves to sit and watch you do your makeup

will sit next to you and ask you to explain it to him

kiri will never say no when you ask to put it on him

after all, what kind of man would have his masculinity threatened by a little makeup?

besides, it's not like he can say no when you look up at him with those big, pretty eyes, and the cute, hopeful, little grin on your face

that would be just wrong

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ shouto ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

one of the types of people i see shouto falling for is someone who is a bit of a spitfire

someone who is caring, compassionate, and understanding

someone with endless amounts of kindness in their heart, and a little wise, but relentlessly brazen

he both loves and admires them, and falls for their personality

i see shouto taking little bits and pieces of his partner's personality, and they are ultimately responsible for shouto becoming a little more outspoken

shouto is someone who would become a teeny bit obsessed with his partner

you officially have a shadow once you get together bc he will have no problem following you everywhere, and wanting to hangout with you all the time

isn't at all nervous about having you meet his dad, bc shouto knows that if endeavor starts pissing you off, you'll find a way to respectfully tell him to fuck off without missing a beat

you're also super smart and emotionally intelligent, so when his family life starts to become particularly messy at the moment, you're right by his side helping him navigate

shouto loves you for being his lover and his confidant, constantly there for him with open arms and advice that's strangely wiser beyond your years

once shouto's dad stops being crummy, endeavor actually comes to respect you

shouto's mom and sister love you, and the three of you gossip like school girls

which makes shouto a little jealous when he feels left out

shouto's the kind of bf to get jealous of the cat that he wanted but ended up liking you more

won't say anything, and will spend all day pouting in a corner some where

you have to give him ton of affection to make it up to him

[kawareo]

Thank you lovely people for giving me a chance to ramble more about something (this is genuine, i mean no shade)

I find it really cool how every character has a parallel with Durge! In general every single romance pairing has reasons for why i think "yeah i could see them being good together", but I love those for Durge especially since I think about Durges way too much

Gale. Prodigy, Chosen of a God(ess) with a relationship that went far past god/Chosen, with him and Mystra being 'lovers' and Durge and Bhaal being 'family'. They were also both groomed to a degree to fulfill a role and have since fallen from grace of their gods.

Lae'zel. Raised in what is essentially a cult, having her entire world fall apart when she learns the truth about Vlaakith and Orpheus (while Durge's world falls apart when they learn about who they are in act 3). Cult has harsh and merciless punishments for those that disappoint, with death and beatings for githyanki and... Well. You know what, for Durge (looking at you, deleted bad ending).

Shadowheart. Having an equivalent of an electric collar on you that her God(ess) can punish her with (for Durge, that punishment isnt so immediate but Bhaal can literally stop their heart if he wants to). Amnesia. Having to choose between leading your cult or leaving everything you thought you knew and being an outcast. Depending on what you do with Shart, they also both kill their parents.

Karlach. Having your body changed without your consent, in drastic ways that you have no control over; the engine for Karlach, lobotomy + Slayer form for Durge (slayer in a more minor way but i will say that even in evil route you dont get a say whether or not you transform the first time). They both hurt people that get close to then without meaning to. They both have someone more powerful who sees them as property. Also, ties to Gortash.

Wyll. Daddy issues! And being rejected and outcast by your Father, wanting to prove yourself that you're still worthy. They were also both given shitty fucking names by their dads. They both at some point chose between power at the cost of freedom and freedom at the cost of literally everything; Wyll when he made a deal with Mizora, Durge at multiple points through the game when it comes to Bhaal. They both struggle with being tied to an evil, manipulative being that wants them isolated and weak and alone. Similar with Karlach, unwilling body modification, but specifically one that turns you into a 'monster'.

Astarion. 'Father'. 'Siblings' that you are in constant and brutal competition with, for momentary approval of your Creator who will never have enough of anything short but the world. Creator who's end goal very much includes you dying for him. Having no bodily autonomy as your Creator can literally violate your mind whenever. Sexual abuse. Struggling with bloodthirst! Your existence itself is violent, you can't live without hurting someone! (Bloodthirst for Ass, Urges for Durge)

Halsin. (Potential) guilt for something you have done, being pushed in a leadership position (Halsin at the grove, Durge with companions) that you may or may not be unsuited for. Being so, so alone, without anyone to care for your feelings. They both also have sides of them that they sometimes can't control, with the Bear and Urges, or more literally, the Slayer.

Minthara. A proud and efficent warrior that got one upped by a person they underestimated. Ties to Orin. Living as someone with the highest social status in a brutal, cruel society. Fanatic worship of an objectively evil god(ess) and then the betrayal that follows, waking up from quite literal brainwashing, seeing how your God(ess) turns against you.

And I could go on! Theyre all so good and interesting and depending on what path you decide to take, there is always something that Durge can relate to on with any companion! I tried to avoid repeating points or talking about my Durge specifically by just talking about what is set in canon for them, and there is still! So! Much!

[the-mid-night-witch]

Open RP:

I'm tagging everyone that was tagged in Dani's original post. If u don't wanna interact u don't have to, but this is the place to confront Nyx if you want to.

───── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─────

───── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─────

(i made the edit. yes ik dani isnt dead but it just fits the song)

───── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─────

───── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─────

You finally arrived at the small cabin in the woods. Snow fell around you and crunched beneath your feet, the wind ice cold against your face like a thousand knives. Inside lived the witch Dani had always talked about. Her mentor, her teacher. Though now Dani was in a coma, brain dead and in hospital, all signs pointed to the inhabitant of the cabin as the culprit. The moon burned into Dani's wrist was Nyx's symbol. Though she denied being at fault

The walls of the small wooden building were deep brown, the fenced gate decorated with the skulls and bones of small animals and birds. Any footsteps that may have indicated someone was home had been covered by the snow, and the shutters were closed to block any light coming from the inside. The place was deathly silent, even the rushing wind seemed dulled in volume. There was something very old and very powerful here, even the forest seemed to be trying to escape it, the dead, gnarled trees that lined the small dirt path to the house were bent away from it, as if trying to escape. No animals could be seen for miles, and all the plants were dead or dying.

The door had a small knocker shaped like a bird skull. Below it, carved into the old oak door were the words: 'An' ye harm none, do what ye will' You could enter politely, or forcefully. The choice was up to you. But this was the woman who harmed Dani, who had put her in a possibly fatal coma. The small, inconspicuous cabin was practically inviting you in. You knew she was powerful, dangerous, almost immortal. The few people that had come back from this part of the forest talked about how she was 'unkillable' What do you do?

───── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─────

@mutantontheloose @justawhitewolf @they-call-me-birdsong @they-call-me-ricochet @poor-lost-leo @just-a-fucking-civilian

@hydras-tiny-dancer @agent-solenski @moongirlwidow @your-fav-russian-assassin @elia-theassassin

@thecrazyrplayerosie @the-other-lehnsherr-girl @thebetterbartontwin @clintbarton-thearrowguy @the-real-best-archer

@americas-favourite-fossil @that-punk-from-brooklyn @proud-owner-0f-americas-ass @we-love-redwing @captain-s-falcon

@serenastark-official @wandamaximoff-official @little-witchy-wanda @whosafraidoflittleoldme17 @lincoln-campbell-the-inhuman @the-good-redheaded-witch @thebestmerc-1

[i-still-got-love-for-you]

hi!

could you please do a reader x jason grace fic were reader was severely injured and barely survives?

(feeling a bit angsty hehe)

Soon You'll Get Better

Jason Grace x gn!reader

910 words

cw: god i hope im doing the angst thing right, there IS fluff bc i would cry if there wasn't, i really hope its gender neutral tell me if it isnt, once again verb tense grammar that might only bother me

a/n: thank you for this request!!! i had so much fun writing it <333 hope you like this!

Rocks were raining down like deadly raindrops from the sky. It was getting harder and harder to dodge them, and your lungs were burning from the running. The Laestrygonians weren't letting up. Percy's story of the "Dodge Ball Game of Hell" came to you at that moment. You were sure this was worse.

You were cursing your godly parent, wishing you had Hermes' gift of speed at that moment. At the risk of slowing down, you looked back t see how close the giants were. They were slowly gaining on you, and a random burst of adrenaline made all your pain fade away.

Blood was pounding in your ears, feet hitting the ground in tune. Just beyond some trees, you could see Half Blood Hill. The force field around it wad your haven, the only way the endless storm of rocks would stop.

You were climbing the hill now, falling and scraping your knees in the rush. Your hands were shaking and covered in scratches and the rocks were getting closer and closer-

You felt a pounding on the back of your head just as you saw Peleus. You stopped in your tracks as you made eye contact with the dragon and promptly fell over. The last thing you remembered were a pair of black glasses.

─ ୨୧ ─

Jason was panicked. It was a feeling he was unfamiliar with, numb and lightheaded and unable to think about anything other than you. He had found you at the border, surrounded by boulders and bleeding from your head.

His brain immediately went into autopilot. Checking for a pulse, carrying you to the infirmary. He was promptly kicked out by Will Solace, who stated he was “hovering worse than a moth near a lamp.”

He could hear the shuffle of feet through the door, sometimes broken by the sound of voices too muffled to be of use. Then, he heard someone yell, “We’re losing her!”

His heart dropped. His whole body might have gone with it, had he not quickly moved to a chair. Losing you? How?

Thousands of thoughts flooded his brain, words he wanted to say, things he regretted, his future with out you. The latter were the scariest of them all, each one more depressing than the last.

Him slowly falling into madness, him isolating himself from the rest of the world. Dying alone, him doing something stupid in his grief that gets him killed.

His nose prickled, warning him of the tears pooling in his eyes. Oh god, what if these are your final moments?

The door opening snapped him out of his downward spiral. He shot up out of his chair and wiped away the tears about to fall. Will looked tired. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced, his hair rumpled, and he was swaying slightly.

“She’s stable, but we put her into a deep sleep so she could heal with minimal pain. We wrapped her head to stop the bleeding, but only the nectar we gave her is going to heal her,” he informed the son of Zeus.

Jason sighed with relief, “Thank you, Will. So much.” He went around the boy to enter the room, pausing as he saw you.

You laid lifeless, the bandages on your head almost obscured your face. Hundreds of tiny scratches littered your arms, sure to scar. Jason didn’t care, all that mattered to him was that you were alive and you wete going to wake up.

He took your hand as he sat beside you, and the scabs he felt made him sick. The nectar might have healed up the smaller things, but the marks you still had were remnants of worse cuts. You almost died. You had almost left him. Permanently.

─ ୨୧ ─

Right next to you was where Jason was for the next three days. Holding your hand and praying to any god he could think of were the only things he did. It took a lot of convincing (and a threat to kick him out) by Will (and Nico) to get him to eat something.

It was on the third day that you woke up. It was a particularly sunny day, but with it came midday heat. Not that Jason noticed. Because what point was looking at anything other than you? What was there to feel other than the black hole in his heart?

When your fingers squeezed his hand, he shot up in his chair and called Will over. The son of Apollo rushed over just as your eyes opened, immediately asking you how you felt and if there was any pain.

Over and over, you assured him you felt nothing. He leaned over and removed the now bloodstained wrap around your head. “I’ll leave you two alone,” he announced with a small smile on his face.

You turned to Jason and damn near fell out of the bed trying to hug him. He caught you and positioned you back on the mattress, half his body going over you. He chuckled, thankful you couldn’t see his teary eyes.

"Gods above, I missed you," he exhaled. Maybe his arms were a bit too tight, but you weren't complaining.

You laughed, "How long was I out?"

"Um..." He hesitated, not sure how to proceed. "Three days?"

Your brain stopped working for a second, processing the number. "Well then, superman, we have a lot to catch up on," you whispered as he caught your lips in kiss.

[fryktheciller]

Cooler

charlie dalton x gn!reader

summary: a summer evening at dalton's place

notes: hi!! this is the first ff i actually finished writing and im dying inside at the thought of posting it. english isnt my first language and im posting this at 2 am, after a poor revision, idk what to say expect spelling mistakes and sentences that dont make sense and raskolnikov-like blurb cause im him hes me and ok i really need to close this paragraph.

Days fly by with Dalton. His parents, two goddamn toffs, sure had great taste, both in furniture and especially in friends. God bless that day his parents decided to become best friends with yours.

Can't say the same about their son, Charlie, a professional dickhead, from the day you knew each other until the day he'd close his eyes and become cold. Sure, he's hot and pretty and oh so charming; sometimes he can also be kind and gentle, but he's got something that’s scary magnetic, and addictive, or at least you think so. That something’s everywhere: in the way he moves his hands while he's explaining the last shitplan he’s come up with while smoking on the balcony; the way he rolls up his shirt, thinking it will help doing a math test, knowing damn well he's going to pass by a stroke of pure luck; or the way he plays the most outrageous melody on his sax, still making it somehow so good and passionate. Also (did I mention it?) he's quite literally the definition of gorgeous—the definition of kalokagathia, except it’s all looks and no agathia. The whole thing’s like: I could love him. And you, oh so desperately!, do. 

The sun’s setting, it’s humid, and the air’s filled with the scent of flowers and the smoke of Charlie’s cigarette. 

–Want one?- He hands you his torn-out red Marlboro packet and his lighter.

You take one and light it up, sitting on the balcony’s hot tiles. 

–Got no dates this summer?

He shrugs, smiling and blowing smoke into your face.

–Got asked out a couple of times before school was over. It's that I'm not interested, don't really know why.

You drag from your cigarette and blow the smoke out, then lightly tap it to get rid of excess ash. 

–Milord, if you may forgive the vulgar language I’m about to use, us peasants call it being in love, or having an interest in someone. Again, sorry for using such vulgar and disgraceful language.

He laughs, and you laugh along with him.

He puts out the cigarette on the tiles, and shrugs again. 

–I don't know.

–It’s not that you don't know; you'd like not to know. Falling in love with someone must be such a sin in the Charlie Dalton religion.

He laughs mechanically, somehow. He hesitates, smiles, and, once again, shrugs. 

–Generally I try to avoid these statements, but now I can't help but embrace them. I've given up.

You laugh, and he follows you—heartily, even. 

–But you?

–Me?

He gestures vaguely with his hand, and you find yourself staring at it with lust, almost. 

–Laid those pretty eyes on someone?

You shrug.

–Nothing much.

–What does that even mean? It's either yes or no. You said it. 

–Didn’t say it. I implied it

–Smartass.

–You’re just jealous of my linguistic capacities.

–Sure I am. Now is it some new incestuos-alien-being who doesn’t even know what a woman is, or is it someone worthy of your admiration?

 –He’s…definitely worth my attention. I think. But I have no hopes. I count on nothing. The thing is: do you really have such low consideration for my romantic interests?

You raise an eyebrow at him, almost mischievously. 

–Not at all. I remember all of those creatures you swore to your mother you loved. And, oh god!, you might expect to find someone pretty on a list that's basically a decade long, but no! Each and one of them is outrageous-looking and with absolutely no social skills. Sometimes, I’ll be honest, I really wondered if you were joking, and for some time I even believed that. But what a realization it was when I understood you found those things pretty.

You both laugh again, and you visualize and remember all those “people” you liked and that you now look at with disgust and apathy.

You’re folded over your stomach, tears of laughter streaming down your face, your tummy hurts, and you can't breathe; he's no different, lying down on the floor, arms wrapped around his stomach, wet lines at the corners of his face, and misty eyes; almost like he was thinking about the same thing as you.

As soon as you thought it was over, anything like a weird look was enough to get you both to start laughing.

–Good god,– you whisper, wiping off the tears with your fingers.

–I think I have never laughed so much at something I said. 

A smile is enough as a response; anything else would kill you.

–By the way, he’s really pretty.

He raises an eyebrow, almost trying to contradict you. 

You smile at him, as if trying to get him started on a debate.

–Description?– he asks, understanding your intentions.

–No, for god’s sake. 

–Not even a hint? A tiny little hint?

–Nothing, absolutely nothing. 

How would you describe this person anyway? “A brunette and dark-eyed boy who plays the saxophone and is a dickhead for a living”? It’s ridiculously explicit. 

–How ‘bout you? It's not that I care, but, you know...

He laughs in response.

–No, you’d tell them.

–Why would I do that? I most likely have no clue who that is.

He shakes his head. 

–Do I know them, at least?

He shrugs and hesitates.

 –Pretty much, yes.

Your head hurts; your stomach is practically in your throat; and you spat your heart long ago. You hope to God that he doesn't come up with a “it’s you” thing because you would faint on the spot. 

–Oh, but it’s your turn now,– he says, nudging you with his elbow.

–Do you know him? ...uhh yes, I suppose so. 

–Great.

–Yeah.

Silence falls between you. You tilt your head and look at the sky, intense, dark, and somehow transparent and clear, like it is only in summer; the air is now fresher, and a soft breeze rises, contrasting with the boiling heat of the tiles. Everything’s humid, full of the scent of flowers, from both florid and almost empty plants, frogs croaking, and fireflies, opposing the equally intense beaming, but perhaps less faint, of the stars. 

Your head still hurts; you can see but you can't really see; you still have the laughter from before in your tummy, and thinking about it still makes you chuckle. 

He seems to ignore you. He lit up another cigarette. “What’s he thinking about?” you think, looking at the sun-colored and bustling flame from the lighter, then at the less intense and steadier one on the tobacco. 

“Must be so unhealthy for him to smoke like this,” you think, and you find yourself pitying him, "ridiculous," is your comment. It is indeed ridiculous to pity someone who rejects deeply and obstinately the concept of that feeling. 

You want to hold him against your chest or on your shoulder, smell the scent of his skin, and keep him close, even if that means dying from the heat. You stare at his profile—that huge yet so perfect nose; that big hand, well-kept like only a musician can do; then the cigarette, already half-burnt; and his lips, chapped and dry. You look at them with lust once again, but not lust lust, something more tender and sweeter, rather than sinful, even though the sin part doesn't really bother you. 

“Tell him, c'mon, tell him,” a little voice in your head was screaming. Of course you’re not going to tell him, or maybe yes? What would happen if you did? You'd lose a friendship that's scary long; that’s what would happen. And what would you do without him? Could you make it? Of course not. You don't remember what it feels like not to have him by your side. Plus, he wouldn't forget: who the hell would forget the love confession from their best friend anyway?

“C'mon, tell him, tell him!” You swear you hear that tiny voice screaming at the top of its lungs.

No, you won't tell him; you'll bring your feelings to the grave with you. 

He put out the cigarette, still in silence. 

“C'mon!! Carpe diem, for fuck’s sake!” What does that even mean? Can I kill a man because I thought “carpe diem" ? That doesn't make any fucking sense. And when did you really start to love him? Months ago? Days ago? Years ago? It could have been yesterday; you’d swear you’ve been loving him for years. 

You start to embrace the idea of telling him. “How would I even put up the whole sentence?” You can't do anything but tell him. Let's be honest; it feels like lying to him, and would you want someone else to tell him rather than you?

–Char

He turns at you with a questioning gaze on his face. Your heart's beating so fast that you feel your arteries are going to explode.

–Can’t beat around the bush much longer, you know. That person…

You pale, feeling the blood pump hard in your temples, and you start to wonder if those were really your last words.

–Cool.

He doesn't feel the same way; it's clear. 

–It's even cooler because I really like you too.

You smile and start to chuckle; it feels like fresh air after holding your breath for too long. He responds with a soft laugh, heartily, then wraps an arm around your shoulders and brings your figure next to hiss, kissing your forehead with those chapped and dry lips that feel like a fresh towel you washed without fabric softener. 

–Were you going to confess your sins eventually?– You joke, still smiling.

–Perhaps, yes. Seems like we’re going to be busy earlier than I expected, though. 

He smirks, a flashing Charlie Dalton smirk. You groan, annoyed, in response.

–Fucking disgusting, Charlie.

–Sure, sure. 

–It's too hot to have sex, Charlie. Don't tell me you don't think so.

–You just told me you liked me, and you have already started to protest?

He shakes his head in mock disapproval.

–You’re not going anywhere, like this.

You chuckle.

–Kiss me, and I'll stop whining.

–Could have told me earlier, maybe we could have actually got to have sex,– he laughs, leaning in. 

His lips are on yours; they're soft, gente, and warm, but still rough and dry. 

God, this boy needs chapstick so badly.

[druidonity2]

hey you wanna hear another fanfic idea (based on an old doodle) i'll probably never write ok here it goes-

(What if, in her dying breath, Onyxia split Anduin into two, and nothing Varian tries is putting his son back together.)

Varian was able to fuse back together, but to his surprise, he found two boys where one once was. In her final moment, to further soe chaos and seek revenge, Onyxia channelged her power into the boy. And despite their attempts, they cannot get the boys back to one. (They try and use shalamayne, but really they can’t fully recreate Varian’s rejoining, for it would threaten the boys’ health and saftey. They spend the next year trying to locate any magic users who could help, but unwilling to risk their lives, there isnt much they can do. They must be raised as twins.)

Ann and Dulin are identical as young kids, and seem very happy with eachother, and it almost seems like they are better off now that Anduin isn’t really an only child. But then, as they enter their teens, a distinction between the two forms, and it slowly becomes clear that they are halves of a single soul. And their flaws are ever stronger for it. That they arn’t balanced. 

(-Little moments as the boys grow up, playing together, learning together, etc.

-Varian hoping at least one picks up the sword, but so far both boys are awful. He struggles, but is reminded they are the same person, of course if one cant do something the other cant either. 

-they both shared an interest in light, and learned fast bouncing practice off eachother. Both learn under Velen.)

Ann and Dulin are priests, but Ann is more rebellious and runs away more, and is more open to voicing his opinion, even at the wrong times. Dulin is much more clinging to rules and professionalism, and is quiet and more hiding of his voice, preferring to listen. They bicker more, disagree, and it slowly reminds Varian of his struggle as he and Lo’gosh could not come to agreements despite being one person. And he fears that as they age, Ann and Dulin will further be torn apart.

It does happen, when Ann and Dulin get into an argument, and Dulin uses shadow. 

-

MoP is Ann and Dulion getting shipwrecked. Despite his interests in Pandaria Dulin wants to go home as soon as the Alliance finds them, but Ann refuses too, and so Dulin follows along. Ann is the one to confront Garrosh, and Dulin is the one to get him help.

After the Bell scene.

Ann nearly died, and while Dulin didn’t get hurt, it seems he’s fallen ill too. He’s fine, up until he faints infront of everyone. Confused, someone reminds Varian, “They are not complete people. They are halves of a single individual, and that brings with it consequences. They were never meant to grow up apart, their souls are joined and that greatly effects their mind and bodies. I suspect if Ann had died, Dulin would’ve passed away soon after. If you lose one, you lose them both.” 

“When you were two, one half was a spineless noble easily charmed by wealth and beauty. The other half was an angry warrior, hot headed and unwilling to listen to opposition. Apart, you were two deeply flawed people who could not agree on anything, and you came close to killing yourself, until one made a sacrifice for the other. It was only because you shared a son did you come to terms with one another.” “I believe having the boys raised together is partly the reason they still get along, but they are very different from one another, and their lives would be better if they were joined again.”

Wrathion believes he knows how to rejoin the twins, and Dulin seeks that help, even behind Ann’s back. (It does not work).

(war crimes scene where Anduin holds his AU self as he dies, only in this fic it is Ann and Dulin watching an au version of Anduin die, seeing what they would look and act like if they were one person, as they should be. This event deeply effects them, acting as a constant reminder that their fractured existance is wrong)

-

-Because of their bickering, it's decided one will take the throne and the other remains prince. Dulin takes the throne, which is actually one of the only things the two agree on, for Ann dislikes the restrictions the title of King would place upon him. Ann still does work for Dulin, represents him in meetings he cant go too, etc, especially durring war, but still runs off sometimes.

-Dulin is taken by Sylvanas to the Shadowlands, and it is Ann who demands to go to find his twin. He felt the moment Dulin crossed into the veil, He feels the moment his twin is corrupted, and feels his soul aching. If Dulin dies so will Ann, and Ann can feel his brother's soul weaken by the day.

-JAILER RAID SCENE but Ann runs into the black smoke, Sylvanas cannot stop him in time- Ann embraces his brother, and a rush of energy envelopes the area. Sylvanas believes it to be the bomb, but as the smoke clears and they live, a single man is left in the middle-

Ann and Dulin fused back together.

the end.

-

Epliogue:

Anduin, newly rejoined into one person, disappears for several years in order to 'find himself', soul searching or whatever. Now that he is one person, who is he really? Who does he want to be? How does he cope with his past truamas was one person, when half of him experienced things differently?

Epilogue explores how Anduin honestly still feels like two people in one body, that being fully one in heart and mind may be truely impossible, but as time passes, years go by, it seems that healing truely may be possible.

[desire-mona]

this most definitely isnt an original thought and i've probably heard it on a podcast before but. i am so married to todd's sweaty tooth madman poem being a metaphor for not accepting being gay.

so here's me picking the whole thing apart (and not proofreading anything)

so starting with

the sweaty toothed madman of course being walt whitman, who we all know is (at least rumoured to be) gay. now the interpretation of whitman being a metaphor for todd's sexuality is nothing new, but i'd like to expand on it.

"i close my eyes and this image floats beside me"

i see this as any moment todd has to himself, no matter where he is, he is reminded whitman/ the fact that he's gay. the specific usage of closing your eyes to mean that the image/ reminder is always there, always following. i see the use of the words "beside me" in a couple different ways. either to suggest that the reminder is just out of view, being pushed away just enough to not be the main focus and more something you see in your peripheral, or in a 3rd person perspective, seeing todd and the imagery of walt beside eachother, coinciding with eachother. i could see both interpretations working equally as well, or even comined.

"the sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain"

THIS LINE. i loooove his use of sweaty toothed!!!!!

if you're not sure what sweaty toothed means, it just kinda means ur teeth r. wet. drooly mouth. i see this madman being sweaty toothed to mean that he's "hungry", not literally, but more desiring something. this being truth, which i'll get into later.

the stare that pounds my brain. oh man. ok so obviously this means that the image/ thought is intimidating, terrifying, threatening. the implication that todd being gay is as much of a threat to his life/ wellbeing as a madman that has it out for him, both ideas causing him an insane amount of stress.

this line is fairly simple to me, the reminder goes from something that terrifies you but ultimately can go unacknowledged, to a constant, overbearing thought that suffocates you enough that you HAVE to face it in some way or another. todd is facing it fearfully, letting it take control of him and how he acts rather than tackling the idea himself. he is defenseless against this part of him

truth (ur gay)

todd thinkin this truth will leave him unsatisfied in life :-( not only in the love sense tho! with his family too, if they find out god forbid, theyll surely view him differently and cast him off even farther than they already do. i also like to think this is him lowkey complaining that the blankets at welton are too small.

this also, devastatingly enough, reminds me of the bit from rocketman where elton comes out to his mom.

clip from rocketman (2019)

and he's mumbling. he's mumbling! this truth is still cloudy, not full realised, still being pushed away. whitman wants the truth, todd wants the truth, but he's still not ready, everything's still uncertain. this uncertain truth could also pertain to todd's feelings toward neil specifically, but i dont think that was the intention. todd does exist as his own person!

this ones simple again. you can fight off your feelings and sexuality all you want but it still wont really lead you anywhere you wanna be. you either end up marrying someone you dont love (women), or you end up alone. also the heavy emphasis on physical violence toward the Truth Blanket could be a metaphor for the physical danger todd would be in if anyone found out, but im not hellbent on that idea.

god. "from the moment we enter crying, to the moment we leave dying," is a BEAUTIFUL way to convey "your entire life" todd you have such a way with words. anyway. i take this as something like. this is something you're born with and cant change, todd was born gay, obviously, and it will never go away with any amount of effort. hence the wailing, crying, and screaming.

also i view the specific line of "it will just cover your face" in a couple different ways. either to mean this truth will suffocate you no matter what you do, or this truth will leave you needing to hide major parts of yourself from the world.

this got a bit repetitive, i apologise. but i still have more to say.

some parts of this poem i find to be a bit too wordy to have been come up with on the spot. do i think todd is talented enough to do so? absolutely! but i just dont think that's the case. i have no doubt in my mind that a LOT of what he said in front of the class was either already on his mind, or was written down beforehand but eventually scrapped.

specifics i have in mind are the concepts of a sweaty toothed madman and a blanket that leaves your feet cold. i dont think this sweaty toothed madman was written specifically with whitman in mind, i think it was just a vessel for his anxiety generally. but the blanket i just KNOW was thought out and written down with the intention to like. be a metaphor for being unsatisfied.

and that only makes the class laughing at that line that much worse, no wonder he wanted to stop! not only was todd incredibly brave for continuing after, but keating was unimaginably quick to get the focus back to the poem. he knew that metaphor meant something to todd, and choosing to expand on that was actually an amazing way to drive that home.

either way, todd's far more brave than i ever could be. i'd be shitting myself up there.

also if u disagree with any of these points are wanna add anything then TELL MEEEE!!! art is anything but subjective and i looove seeing how you guys view things like this.

[qoldenskies]

Sacrifice (this edges on character death; it's not permanent and implied instead of described, but i get it if you don't want it):

Donnie wakes up in the captivity of a cult who thinks that sacrificing a someone tainted with empyrean will awaken a god they worship. From his viewpoint, his family saves him moments from death--only, when they return home, he learns that wasn't always the case. His family remembers at least three months' worth of failed attempts at rescuing him, with second chances only bought by looping back the day through the power granted by his death (turns out the cult wasnt entirely bullshitting about their god)

THIS IS SUCH A COOL PROMPT WOAH i do love myself a time loop and there r so many implications here .... however im getting an Ideaaaa.... it might be more interesting if it was less the idea of him being "tainted" by empyrean and more the idea of him being a subject of it as an act of reverence based on him being so biologically close to it while other yokai are descendants of those first changed by it.

and it might make sense if this was post movie too, so one of them was captured for this because of all the attention brought to them because of it,,, because mikey's ninpo is so powerful im already thinking of donnie giving himself up to avoid mikey being the one caught in the crossfire because it creates wonderful beautiful B team angst and i can NEVER RESIST. so the sacrifice prompt has two meanings because he also sacrificed himself

like something about how canary continuity is this insane unfair punishment for donnie making a mistake out of childish selfishness and insecurity while this prompt would be him nearly dying because he DID THE RIGHT THING .... oough

im already super into the concept but id need to figure out an ending for it because one isnt coming to me (might make more sense for it to be donnie pov? make it a bit of a reveal for him to learn about it).... but this shit is banger dawg i am already falling for the concept (might be worth looking into japanese mythology as an idea for the deity theyre trying to summon? a call for the input of people smarter than me if anyone's got something fitting, there's always the option to leave it more ambiguous as well)

[hdra77]

Hello, I just browsed your whole disarray AU tag and I think it's really cool. It's a little hard to tell what is it about but from what I can tell everyone is evil and corrupted for some reason (except for NSH?) There was an old ask talking about Pebbles and NSH's friendship, and I wanted to ask if you could tell more about that their friendship in this AU is like if you feel like it

Hello anon!! Thank you so much for taking your time to look into my au that means a lot to me!! 💗💗 sorry if some parts may be a bit confusing lol ive had pmvs planned to explain the plot better but thats been on the back burner for a while

To explain it simply, the triple affirmative occurred except that its something that could possibly make their kind turn on against each other.

Triple affirmative is a type of virus that spreads throughout the iterator's system and they would slowly rot on the inside as time passes. And the process is very very painful imagine your insides getting fried and there is nothing you can do about it but to lash out at others and infecting your kind in a desperate attempt to dull down the excruciating pain.

Basically this virus would just straight up kill them in the end it would keep on infecting their system until they shut down and collapse. Because of this others finds a way to search for the cure and some others accepts this fate.

Soo not everyone in the au are evil! Atleast for the first half of the plot.

All of the cast would have atleast one or two major flaws in them and it depends if you see their actions justified or just plain right evil.

Focusing on the early timeline where pebbles wasnt infected yet. If you noticed some of the pebbles asks recently the sign that this takes place before his corruption is his white eyes and sometimes seen with his golden irises!

Not exactly sure where im going with this lol but explaining more about pebbles and nsh's friendship:

Pebbles met sig through suns and he only grew to tolerate NSH because in his own perspective, taking in the false belief to see the image of his administrator infront of him instead of his friend is his way of coping from the abandonment of his creators. Which isnt..a good way to start a friendship if he only treated sig as a manifestation of someone else honestly

Slowly,but eventually sig managed to get pebbles to let him show him around outside his can and encouraging him to explore the places together and this was enough for pebbles to snap out of his delusion and see the iterator in front of him. NSH, the real him. not just a tool for him to cope with.

They became close, having a supportive friend that always pulls him out of his hole and encouraging him to have a more positive take in life despite the dying surroundings around them that makes it harder for pebbles to even believe that theres something beautiful in a world who wants to die. This is basically just a opportunistic friend and the pessimistic friend. NSH isnt always that opportunistic type of guy though, even after the ancients left the entire ecosystem in destruction he still finds beauty in things and he shows pebbles signs of life seeping through the cracks still finding its way back to reclaim the dying world.

Their friendship became more strained right after pebbles got in contact of his sister once again. Pebbles had become a lot more defensive and pushing others aside until his disappearance and the last time he had been in contact was with suns. This reason tear their friendship apart especially how sig suspects that suns had been keeping secrets from him and that they could even be involved in his disappearance.

So in an attempt to search for pebbles, sig sent hunter to investigate pebbles' superstructure. And it all goes from there

I may have gotten carried away like most of the time! But thats a simple explanation of how their friendship came to be! Friendship lore !! Hope this clears things up 💕 if you got any questions just ask me!

[nevermorgue]

If you were the deans and had yo come up with trials, tests and exercises for the studentes like the maze and the mystery manor, what would you propose?

it’s actually funny you say this. I came up with one like a month ago to use for a fic. I’ll share it with you! If anyone ends up using it at any point I’d love to see it, I’m really really attached to this fake trial idea I made!

The Blood Ritual

students are "randomly" split into groups of 3-4, each in their own closed off section of a pocket dimension. every group is given identical instructions + items.

its a ritual, including the candles, pentagram chalk, ritual book with the proper chanting, and a large sacrifical dagger

its a test of not only following instructions, but trust

one person has to be chosen in the group to be "sacrificed", aka being cut open to bleed out in the pentagram and brought AS CLOSE to a second death as possible without actually dying. cause you know. pocket dimension. theyre fine.

the students are kinda grouped in a way where picking the person to get cut open is a difficult decision to make if there isnt someone selfless to step forward. for example, a group with duke, prospero, montresor, and berenice would kind of be terrible in this regard because literally none of them would offer. it would be a BIG fight

like whoever monty gets stuck with. the people in his group would have to force him down by the limbs as the other person uses the dagger

or imagine a group with morella shakily reading off the book’s chant, trying not to cry as the person in the center screams in pain as one person holds them down, the other using the dagger.

imagine Ada getting put in the pentagram in every single group combination. Montrada gets put together and he still doesn’t hesitate to suggest Ada be the one to get cut open. Imagine all of the shit that can happen during these that can cause conflict outside of the trial.

its supposed to cause conflicts + bond breaking but also fun trauma as you and others are forced to "Sacrifice" a fellow student to some entity that may or may not exist.

only once the ritual is complete is the exercise complete

(credits to willspero nation for this idea) and maybe even afterward, the students that were sacrificed feel phantom pains outside of the pocket dimension. they swear they hear things that they know aren’t there. they feel different, off…because coming so close to death a second time is nothing but good. and if they truly were being sacrificed to something, was it real? is that why they feel like this?

[agi-ppangx]

broken promises (lee minho x gn!reader)

tags: post-apocalypse!au, angst, hurt without comfort

warnings: mentions of death, blood and wounds

A/N: this is something ive never done before so please bear with me😶‍🌫️ also eunji is a made up character solely for this fic and she isnt based on anyone in particular ^^ i hope you'll enjoy my little experiment and please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

the cold wind lazily made its way though your hair, bringing you back to reality. you looked around at the disaster in front of you. the city was destroyed and almost deserted, only a little people left to fight. the rest of them went south - it was told the life there would be better, but you didn’t really believe it. nowhere was life any better now. you noticed a woman with a little girl walking down the street. she made eye contant with you - her face was covered in burn scars and a few fresh wounds. she threw you a sad smile, seeing you weren’t doing any better. the girl waved at you, her arm covered in blood as well. you tried to wave back, but it came out a bit wobbly and you sighed, defeated. suddenly you felt a gentle tap on your arm. you abruptly threw your head up only to see eunji standing in the doorway. she took a step forward, sitting next to you. you took her hand in yours and rubbed it with your thumb. “how are you feeling?” you asked her softly. “i’m okay, don’t worry.” you hummed at her words and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

it was truly a miracle that she was alive. you had met eunji a few months before, she was wanderng around a small town nearby without anything to eat or drink. she slept where she could and was constantly running away, scared that someone will eventually kill her. you didn’t have heart to leave her alone and decided to help and protect her. she was unsure at the beginning, but you weren’t surprised. you took your time to earn her trust, letting he know with your actions that you wanted only to make her safe. your heart ached, looking at her, so scared and vulnerable, yet wise and independent. you thought to yourself that no twelve-year-old shouldn’t be so mature for their age. she was a kid, she should be playing around with her friends and not worrying about a thing. after a few weeks though, she finally opened herself up in front of you, letting you sooth her aching soul and create a shelter for her. she told you about her past and about her mother, whom she lost contact with at the very beginning of the apocalypse. you started treating her like your little sister and made a promise to yourself to stay with her to help her find her mum and make sure she grows up in a safe place, away from hunger, poverty and death.

“what are you thinking about?” eunji asked you suddenly, seeing your worried gaze. you shook your head and smiled faintly. “future. i want us to finally be happy,” you whispered, holding back tears that were starting to pool in your eyes. she hugged you tightly, burying her head in your chest. “as long as you’re with me then i’m happy,” she said simply and you giggled, sniffing. how could a kid be so wise? “oh, also,” eunji sat straight again and looked you in the eyes. “minho woke up.”

you ran through the corridors of the building, trying to get to minho’s room as quickly as possible. on your way you bumped into jisung and he grabbed your arms, steadying you so you wouldn’t fall. “whoa, careful. are you going to see minho?” you nodded fratically, panting. he smiled at you. “alright, go. he’s waiting for you.”

you quietly entered the room, not wanting to startle minho. you closed the door and heard him grumble in pain. “is that my guardian angel? am i in heaven?” he uttered when he finally noticed you and you giggled at that. “yah, don’t you dare talking about dying. i did everything i could to save you, dummy,” you sat at the edge of his bed, runing your fingers through his hair. he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and humming in content. “i missed you,” he whispered. “can you give me a kiss?” you cooed at him and leaned over to place a gentle peck on his dry, cracked lips, savouring the moment that you missed so much. “alright lover boy, we have to change your bandages,” you said when you broke the kiss, caressing his cheek. you got up to gather all the stuff and came back to the bed, placing everything on the bedside table and turning to face minho again. “can you sit up?” he nodded and using his hands, tried to get up a bit. you helped him and soon he was sitting with his back pressed to the wall. you lifted up his shirt, ripping out the old bandage from his tummy and gently disinfecting his wound with the last bottle of iodine left after the treatments you had performed on the survivors in your camp. minho hissed at the feeling and you whispered a small “i’m sorry”, trying to be as gentle as possible. “how is everyone doing?” he asked you and you shrugged your shoulders. “well, it depends. some of us still haven’t recovered and we lost a few people as well…” you mumbled, tears welling in your eyes. minho took your hand in his, stopping your actions, and carefully brought you to his chest, bringing you comfort. “it’s okay, at least we have each other, hm?” he responded in this soft voice of his and you wiped your eyes, nodding. you came back to changing his bandages soon after, trying to calm down. minho intently analized your face, seeing all the worry and sorrow in your eyes. he hated to see you like this. he felt really protective over you and wanted nothing but the best for you. minho always made sure to guide you safely through the tough times and provide you with food and clean clothes. the only things he wanted for you was to be safe and sound, just like you wanted for eunji. “when we finally go south, i’ll build you a house there and we’ll settle down.” you stopped in your tracks when you heard his dreamy voice. “when we go south?” you muttered and minho’s eyes widened, looking at your furrowed brows. “yeah, you know, when i recover we can pack our stuff and leave the city. it’s destroyed anyway, so why even stay here,” he reasoned, confused by your reaction. “i told you so many times i’m gonna stay here, i have to take care of eunji,” you responded, feeling as the tears started to make their way down your face. you didn’t dare to look him in the eyes, scared that if you do, your heart will shatter into million of pieces. your hands started shaking, so you rushed youself and messily placed the new bangade over minho’s wound. you started gathering your stuff, wanting nothing but to leave the room and let yourself calm down.

minho always suggested the two of you going south, he wanted to do it even before the apocalypse was over, but every time you told him you had to stay in the city, to help the survivos and take care of eunji. you couldn’t just leave her here and taking her with you would mean she would mean she wouldn’t be able to find her mum. you also wanted to just simply stay where you were born, not having the heart to leave behind the place you grew up in. was is selfish? perhaps, but in times like these you had to consider yourself first in some cases. “yn, come on, i thought we talked this though,” minho started, his firm tone sending a shiver down your spine. “‘talked this through?’ minho, what the fuck? do you even listen to me?” you hissed through gritted teeth, feeling your cheeks grow warmer from the anger builidng inside you. “i told you i’m not gonna leave this place, not now, not in a month, never! i simply wanna stay here and help to rebuild the city,” you continued, your voice started breaking in the middle of each word and your vision was getting more and more blurry. “i have to take care of eunji as well.” it was minho’s time to scoff. “really? you’re still talking about eunji? there’s so many people here that could take care of her, it’s not like you’re the only one who could help her,” he responded angrily, his face scrunching at the pain from his wounds. “but i promised her! i told her i’ll help her and she trusted me!” you cried, screaming at the top of your lungs. “she should learn that people sometimes break the promises, that’s how life works!” you looked at him in disbelief, shocked that these words left his mouth. you looked at him and you swore everyone in the world could hear your heart sink. you couldn’t believe he said that, but you finally saw his true self. “people break the promises, huh?” you whispered, fidgeting with the ring on your finger. after a moment of hesitation you took it off and threw it at minho. “then i’m gonna break one too,” you stated, heading towards the door. “yn, wait! i didn’t mean it like that!” you heard minho scream, pleading, but you ignored him, shutting the door behind you and heading to find eunji. at least one promise won’t be broken.

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-skz @l3visbby

[pumpkinsy0]

Can you expand further on the hc that pony has paranoia about getting curly killed and like how curly tries to help him get out of his head???

honestly its not that he thinks he’s gonna get them killed more so like he feels like hes the reason theyre dying so fast or somethin like that

he basically thinks of himself as a black cat

in his head its like “johnny said he wanted to die and bc he spent sm time w me he ended up dying, and everyone knew dally was gonna die young, but its my fault he died so fast, right after johnny”

maybe its bc he feels like hes bad luck or bc he thinks he couldve done something to stop at least one of em, pick ur poison, point is pony thinks he shouldnt be near curly bc hes getting so close to him like he was w dally and johnny and hes gonna ruin it somehow

he would start distancing himself away from curly, not talking to him much, refusing to hang out, and at some point, pony just avoids him all together, curly notices this and is like “if pony doesnt wanna talk to me ill get someone to talk to him for me” and gets two bit to help bc as much as two bit doesnt love curly, he loves pony and my god does he need friends and to interact w ppl, so he agrees to help

as for how curly helps, he writes letters for pony to read bc he knows hes the last person pony wants to see rn, and two bit gives pony the letters and they communicate that way, maybe to make pony feel a bit better he wears like a good luck charm or a bad luck protection thing, curly tries getting into less trouble bc he knows him gettung into trouble would just worry pony about whats gonna happen to him and slowly but surely pony starts coming back around, not to say that he isnt still a lil iffy but hes getting better (someone get him a therapist)

[6kuros]

do u have any tommatt hcs :3 like pet names or something?? i luv the ship and how u draw them sm

you guys are feeding into my insanity thankn you...thank you......

matt uses pet names for tom (babe, sweetheart, stud) (tom is embarrassed at first but he likes it), tom doesnt rly use pet names especially early into the relationship, later on tho i think he'd occasionally call matt honey, casual simple things

despite appearances matt is the one who orders at the drive thru

both fashionistas lel but in their own way- matt has respect for tom's style bc even if that's not how he'd dress he can appreciate when someone knows how to put an outfit together. same goes for tom

i drew this bc of a convo w a friend a while back but they both love cats and send each other cat memes all the time. their text messages look like this

ok now time for the Serious stuff

got together post The End, tom coming close to dying made them realize their feelings for each other and take a risk in entering an actual relationship. i think bc they knew each other so long and were housemates when they first started getting feelings they brushed them off bc they didnt want things to be awkward (tom especially- matt probably acted on his feelings first bc i think matt is slightly more emotionally intelligent and has the confidence to go for anyone)

elaborating on this tom takes a while to accept his feelings for matt bc of how he wants to feel masculine, he's fine w being trans + attracted to men but he initially imagined he'd be with a 6'5 hardcore metalhead with a bunch of piercings not a charlie xcx-britney spears-listening twink....lol...

matt helps tom a lot with being more sensitive/in touch with his feelings and being less of a dick who says the first rude thing that pops into his head. he's still like this at his core tbh but it takes much more for him to get actually irritated by other people and bc of how matt is he becomes more emotionally aware

tom also helps matt be less self centered and more emotionally aware bc tom doesnt vocalize the root of his issues most of the time- instead of actually talking he'll make a rude comment or complain about something seemingly minor when it bothers him for a deeper reason and matt has to be able to recognize this for the relationship to work

they also help each other w confidence- tom was hesitant to act on his feelings at first bc he's like matt could pull almost anyone if he wanted to why would he go for me (not quite true but that's how he sees it) and matt secretly craves affection and validation from tom bc tom seems to not care what others think and about superficial appearances (also isnt rly true but its how matt perceived tom when he started crushing on him)

ok this post is long enough

[fictionfixations]

link click bridon episode 4 reaction n thoughts

i need a moment to like process this cause i was worried id have to step away for a bit and miss something and need to take time to wait for it to appear on crunchyroll and rewatch cause i was expecting food so i was doing this weird thing of trying to watch but also trying to be in the prime position to run to the door as fast as possible 😭😭😭

...and then it arrived while i was in the middle of writing this lMFAO okay

i think ive already mentioned this but is it just me who finds veins english like really hot what??? its hot but also im a vein hater like sir you killed my favorite thats not cool

'you look tasty' !?!?!?!?!?!?

also oh god cxs discovering his power

the dread i felt at the same time as lu guang the moment cxs disappeared like

'wait. that looked like when he uses his power' and then i realized he clapped like oh my god

also oh my god cxs no baby please :(

i was like this back at episode one but i was like they need to give him a break

but like. they do but then cxs is like no i want to save people and then he gets traumatized like holy fuck

i cant imagine how it'd feel to suddenly be in someone else's body. in the past. in the photo. you hear your dad's name. and. then you die?

and was that his parents dying?

actually did the body he was in die? cause if so then how did that person take a photo and upload it to social media? or was it like immediately after taking the photo? i didnt think it was like that but idk i mightve missed it

also me cringing a little every time in time travel someone does something thats obviously out of character or not right so when cxs said 'dad' i was just like AHGHGSUIHFSIUFAIU

.........what if his dad had powers though

like we dont know how they got their powers, we know it can be transferred to someone via death and handholding (although its unknown if it can be transferred while someone is still alive)

what if it was some secret haha i actually know youre my son

also LMFAO cat pajamas make a comeback bruhs had that for how many years?? when sick or injured theyre the way to go

also the way i was like ??? ?what are you doing lu guang when he called cxs with cats like are you allergic or something

which is dumb because there was like elizabeth in the shorts why would he be i was just so confused

then its like oh

man people do stuff that seems really dumb for time travel sake and im just sat here like it makes sense but also how does this long to an outsider like

imagine cxs saw lu guang in the car like ??? what are you doing????

also lu guang sweetie please be careful with your expressions youre giving it all away i know you probably have valid reasons to dislike liu xiao but please 😭😭😭

actually wait no im an idiot isnt liu xiao's power like hearing heartbeats? or did i misremember?? so hed know something was up anyway like hm why did this persons heart pick up?

also cxs like lu guang what are you doing ????? had me so stressed like oh god please dont have them fight please dont have them fight THEN LU GUANG COLLAPSED and its ah so thats where that clip is from hahahahahahah (in like the ep teaser)

uh what else uhm

i mean. i understand lu guang wanting to stay as close to what happened in the past, especially cause if things change then his future knowledge is useless

but things are changing. and its like. i mean. yeah. theres room for changes in between so long as the node remains unchanged and things that were up to luck in the past were also up to luck now and ended up changing things

i just wonder how it changed so bad that liu xiao did something and interrupted them with the news.

like it could be attributed to because its not the same, lu guang has future memories and hes in the past now but..

for what reason did it seemingly not happen before?

it makes me wonder if liu xiao might have an inkling of a previous timeline of sorts

also makes me wonder how in the first place vein knew they of the other timeline were messing with time or some shit and came after them..

aghhh theres so many questions

episode 5 preview what the what was going on

cxs getting bullied and cant fight back💀 i mean he'd already been bullied before right cause his parents were missing so people were bullying him for it

but still

i dont want him to suffer :((((

also another on the list of link click's tragic female characters who have a really shitty life and dont get a happy ending because link click doesnt know what a happy ending is probably???

maybe? i wonder.

WHO IS THIS

MISTAKES?? WHAT MISTAKES???

CXS WHY DO YOU LOOK SO STRESSED WHAT DID YOU REALIZE