#⊹ ࣪ ˖when hell freezes over

[ferigrieving]

when hell freezes over.

⊹ ࣪ in which touya todoroki finds himself.

a.n might rewrite this something catastrophic hasnt happened to me yet ill get back to you guys soon

⤷ masterlist ; requests open ; one – 2004 ; three – 2008

touya todoroki was six when he first tasted fire.

“again, touya!” the voice barked. “control the flames! if you cant handle this, you’ll never surpass all might.”

it was snowing in musutafu. 

in an ideal world, he would have liked to spend this day with you, maybe building a snowman, or making snow angels like a normal child would. have a snowball fight, then curl up together by a fire he created.

but touya todoroki had never experienced what it was like to be a normal child. and now, he thinks, he never would.

“what the hell are you doing? focus, touya!”

again, he opened his fists and summoned his flames. again, they dissipated in an instant, blown away by the harsh winter winds. he felt disappointment rise up in him, rearing its ugly head as he tried and tried to control his quirk.

and again, he failed to please his father.

“touya, please stop moving.” you whispered, voice so quiet he thinks he might be hearing things. it was late now, the sun delving deep into the horizon from where you could see it from his bedroom window. touya was leaning against you, eyes closed as he relished in your cold touch.

“it hurts!”

“i know. ‘m sorry, touya” you murmured, knowing that no matter what you said, he wouldn’t listen. touya had always been hard headed when it came to pleasing his father, willing to do anything to gain a small amount of validation and praise. 

but no matter how hard he tried, it was never enough. the constant harsh words and cold eyes, staring at him like he was nothing more than a disappointment, a failure, continued to drive him to the point of madness.

“i hate him…” he mumbled, burying his head in your embrace. it was cold, but he preferred your touch. it was cool against his skin, which was hot to the touch from overuse of his quirk for hours on end.

“him?”

“the old man.” he responded, voice bitter. “all he does is pressure me to surpass all might.”

it was never enough for him. he could never meet his father’s high expectations, and that left him so frustrated and angry. he wished he could quit. quit trying to please his father. quit trying to make him proud. because his father didn’t care about him. not really.

he felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes. he tried his best to hold them back, to stop them from falling, but it proved difficult.

it was too much. he was tired.

tired of pleasing his dad. tired of pushing himself to the point of exhaustion. tired of everything.

“i wish you could just take me away from here.” touya whispered, voice so soft it could be mistaken for a winter breeze.

“..where?”

”anywhere but here,” he responds, sighing softly. “i’d want to go where my father couldn’t find me. somewhere far away from here.”

he paused, shifting slightly. then, in a small voice, he mumbled. “somewhere with you.”

"why do you need me? you’re doing fine on your own." you hum, shifting so you could lean back on the bed beside him. his room was small, and barren. his sheets were tucked in and his books were all equally levelled. it was like he was living more in the barracks than a room for someone his age.

the only indication that the room belonged to one was the one single stuffed toy you had brought him from home. a black leopard with big, white bow wrapped around its neck. said it reminded you of him. touya couldn't see it, but he appreciated the gift more than you could understand.

he huffed at this, rolling his eyes at your words. of course, he was, but sometimes he longed for someone by his side, even just once.

touya leaned against you, head on your shoulder as he let out a deep sigh. "i’m not doing fine,” he mumbled, and although he was reluctant to admit it, he was thankful that you were always there. “you’re the only person who makes this stupid stuff worth it for me.” 

he didn’t care if he had come off a bit desperate when he said that. it was true. you were pretty much the only thing keeping him sane.

you didn’t mind the heat. you found his touch comforting, the way his skin felt against yours. the two of you laid there in silence for a moment, your breaths mingling as he held your hand in his.

“i don’t like it here,” touya finally says, breaking the silence. “i hate it here. it’s too claustrophobic, and… cold.”

“‘n’ it’s lonely too,” he mutters, almost as if it were an afterthought.

touya never really minded being alone. but sometimes, he felt lonely. as lonely as you can get with four other people in the house, anyway.

he was aware that there were other people here, sure, but he felt no connection to them. his father spent most of his time working, or when he was home, training touya ruthlessly. his mother was always distant. she was cold and closed off, and touya didn’t doubt that she had stopped caring about him after fuyumi and natsuo were born.

as for his siblings, they were too young to understand anything that was happening. fuyumi was five, and natsuo was turning one. everytime he went to go talk to them they would brush him off. they felt more like strangers to him than family.

and then there was you.

you seemed to actually… care for him? you listened to him. you talked to him. you spent time with him and you healed him. you made him feel less lonely, less isolated from the world.

he never really knew why you hung around him. you were maybe a few months older than him, so he figured maybe it was just the age difference that made you feel bad for him. and yet, a selfish part of him hoped that there was a different reason in play entirely.

he didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt a strange urge to be closer to you. maybe he was touch starved, wanting and desperate for someone to touch him. he didn’t know, he didn’t care.

he wanted you. he wanted your touch, and your presence.

touya silently reached over and grabbed your arm, tugging you towards him.

“..you okay?”

he didn’t respond, instead pulling you even closer till your face was buried in the crook of his neck. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. his chin rested on top of your head, your hair tickling the underside of his jaw.

“i…” he mumbled, not really knowing what to say. should he tell you how he felt? how he craved your touch? that he longed for your company?

… no. he decided that staying quiet was the best option.

“‘m sleepy, toy’.”

“then go to sleep,” he spoke, voice low and quiet. 

despite his words, he wasn’t letting you go. he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in. you smelled like freshly picked flowers, and he couldn’t get enough.

"but your dad might find us. and my parents’ll probably wonder where i am."

“i don’t care,” he muttered. “let them wonder. let them find us.”

he knew what you were saying made sense, he did, but he just wanted to savour this moment for as long as he could. he held onto you tighter, arms circling your body like he didn’t want to ever let you go.

"you know i cant. its almost midnight, i have to go."

touya huffed, tightening his grip even more if it were possible. “stay,” he muttered in your hair. 

he wasn’t used to asking nicely for things, but part of him figured that if he did, you would actually give him what he wanted. 

“please.” he whispered, voice so small it sounded pathetic. “just… stay.”

despite everything that told you to walk out that front door right now, you sighed, nodding your head and muttering, “fine. five more minutes.”

touya’s shoulders relaxed at your words. a small, content sigh escaped his lips, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he knew you’d cave in eventually.

he buried his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. you were so close to him that he could feel your heart beat against his chest, the steady thump-thumping like music to his ears.

five minutes turned to ten, ten to thirty, and now, you were both asleep on the floor of touya’s room, his head on your shoulder and yours on his. 

the two of you slept soundly, wrapped up in each others arms. the rest of the world seemed to fall away, forgotten in the haze of sleep. the room was quiet and peaceful, and for once, touya felt unbothered by his father and his family’s expectations.

hours passed, the night bleeding into morning as the first rays of sunlight streamed through the window. touya was still knocked out, his head buried in the crook of your neck, arms encircling you in a tight grip.

he was usually an early riser, waking up before the sun even rose. but perhaps it was due to your presence, or the comfort he received from holding you close, that kept him asleep.

for once, he didn’t dream of fire, or pain. he dreamt only of you.

it was nearing breakfast, the clock hung on the wall reading 8:23, when touya stirred. he slowly opened his eyes, groaning softly as he adjusted to the waking world. as his eyes slowly came into focus, he registered that he felt awfully cold. he was confused for a moment, before realisation dawned on him.

oh. you left.

he laid there, feeling strangely lonely without you by his side. he could still smell your scent lingered faintly in the air, as if to mock him for not being able to cling onto you.

with a huff, touya sat up, stretching his arms up above his head. his back ached from sleeping against the hard floors, but he didn’t really mind. he was more concerned about the lack of your presence.

he pushed himself to his feet, running a tired hand through his red hair. for the first time in a while, he felt strangely restless. he hated the cold emptiness that you had left in your wake every time you two parted ways. touya’s six year old mind couldnt particularly comprehend the ideas that were invading them, but he did know, that he missed you. everytime.

leaving the room, his footsteps were quiet as he padded towards the kitchen. he figured someone else in the house would be awake by now, and he honestly wasn’t in the the mood to deal with anything by himself. he couldnt wait until he went to college or whatever it was called and got a dorm. then he could fill it with as many toys as he wanted.

as soon as he turned into the kitchen, he realised that he was right. his father - of course - was in the kitchen, stirring coffee as he read over the morning newspaper.

touya rolled his eyes at this, the movement almost unconscious. he was going to make a snide remark, something about how he never got a break from training,  but he held his tongue instead.

he walked over to the table and sat down at his usual spot, resting his chin on one hand. he didn’t feel hungry at all, but forced himself to eat a slice of toast anyways. he figured he needed at least a little energy.

a decision he later regretted after six hours of non-stop training.

training was as exhausting, painful and tiring as it was the previous day. he felt as though he’d been working non-stop, sweat running down his face as he repeatedly pushed to his limits.

he was breathing heavily, body screaming in pain at him. he was so tired. his hair was matted to his forehead, his shirt soaked, and all he wanted to do was turn the fan on high, cuddle up in bed, and sleep forever. 

looking up in a moment of weakness, he felt his heart sink as he realised your spot in the tree was empty.

“–touya, where the hell are you?”

he huffed in irritation, shooting a glare in the direction of the voice before reluctantly making his way towards the spot he had spent his whole morning at. he was fed up with being yelled at, constantly being told what to do and how to be.

stopping in front of his father, he clenched his fists at his sides, biting his tongue to shut his mouth. the last thing he needed was to get into yet another screaming match. opening his palms, he summoned a fire like he had been asked of time and time again.

"better," endeavour muttered, his critical gaze never leaving his son. "but you can do more. increase the intensity."

touya hesitated. he was already exhausted, and the flames felt wild, as if they had a will of their own. but he didn't dare disobey. taking a deep breath, he funnelled more energy into his quirk, feeling the heat surge through him. the flames grew hotter, brighter, stronger.

"good. now hold it," his father instructed, voice cold and unforgiving

the heat was becoming unbearable, and touya's concentration wavered. his hands shook, the flames flickering dangerously close to his skin. panic surged through him, and in his desperate attempt to maintain control, the fire lashed out, engulfing his wrist in a searing burst of heat.

a sharp cry of pain tore from touya's lips as he stumbled backward, clutching his wrist. the flames sputtered out, leaving behind a red, angry burn on his pale skin. he fell to his knees in the dirt, tears springing to his eyes.

touya bit back a sob, his wrist throbbing like a heartbeat. he looked up at his father, eyes pleading for a hint of compassion, but found none. the man who loomed over him was not a father in that moment, but a man who simply happened to be in his life.

there was no sympathy in his father's eyes. he was met with the same cold, calculating gaze that he faced every time he failed to meet his expectations. there was no comfort, no love. only disappointment.

touya's fingers dug into the dirt, clutching at the cool earth as if it would erase the pain he felt.

"pathetic," his father spat, his voice harsh and venomous. "you're weak. weak, and useless."

it stung more than the burn on his wrist did.

touya tried to speak, to find some way to defend himself, but the words caught in his throat. he wondered if there was a part of childhood that didn't feel so overwhelmingly terrible all the time.

he felt useless, weak. the tears in his eyes prickled against his already red eyes. god, he wanted you right now. he wanted your comfort, your presence. your quirk.

but you weren't here. he was alone.

his father moved closer, crouching down in front of him. he looked down at touya, the disgust obvious on his face.

"you're nothing. absolutely pathetic," he hissed, grabbing touya by the chin and forcing him to look him in the eyes. "if you can't even control your own quirk, how do you expect to be a pro hero?"

anger and shame flared up within touya. he knew he wasn't living up to his father's expectations. he never did, and no matter how hard he tried, he never would. the words only served to fuel the fire that had already started burning in touya's chest. his jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as he tried hard to keep the tears from spilling over. he won't give his father the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

"you're worthless. worthless," his father repeated, grip on his chin only tightening. "you're nothing but a disappointment. a waste of space. you'll never amount to anything. you're a failure."

and with that, his father left him alone once more.

touya sat there for a moment, watching his father walk away from him. he could feel the burn on his wrist pulsing with each beat of his heart, a constant reminder of his failure. he was tired, in pain, and filled with anger and frustration. his hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

and then he broke.

his shoulders slumped, body shaking with silent sobs as the tears finally spilled over. he let himself fall backwards from his kneeling position, laying down in the dirt as he covered his face with both hands. it was pathetic, he knew it was. a six year old, crying like a baby. but he couldn't care less.

he felt hopeless, like he had no control over his own life. he was just a punching bag for his father, and no matter how hard he tried, it would never be enough to earn his father's approval.

he wanted it to end. he just wanted this all to end.

“...touya?”

touya froze at the familiar voice, his breath hitching in his throat. he slowly lowered his hands, his eyes meeting yours.

an angel sent from heaven to save him from this living hell.

“i brought takoyaki.”

…takoyaki?

he stared at you, taking in your appearance and the food in your hands. he couldn't help but feel a swell of affection at your presence. even the sight of you was making him feel better already.

he pushed himself up into a sitting position, not caring that his clothes were now covered in dirt and a bit of grass.

"you... you're here."

“why wouldn't i?”

he couldn't help but smile at your playful insult, feeling a small wave of comfort wash over him. for once, he didn't mind being called stupid. the pain in his wrist faded into the background.

"i guess i just feel like a lost cause sometimes," he muttered. "everyone seems hellbent on reminding me of it, too."

he gestured vaguely in the direction of his house, alluding to his father. the thought of the man brought a bitter taste to his mouth.

"the old man's a real piece of work. always saying i'm a failure, that i'm weak, that i'll never amount to anything... i just..."

he trailed off, his voice cracking as his throat became tighter. he shook his head, trying to push down the frustration he felt inside of him.

"okay. forget about him now. lets eat, yeah? before it gets cold." 

he nodded, forcing a small smile on his face. he tried to push the thoughts of his father from his mind for now, focusing on you instead. sitting around here wallowing in his own self pity wouldn't do him any good.

he scooted over slightly, so that there was room for you to sit down next to him. "yeah. i'm starving."

touya watched as you sat down beside him, close enough that their shoulders were touching. the contact sent a wave of comfort through him, making him feel less alone. he wanted to be selfish for a moment, to just lean into you and forget about everything else. but he held back, not wanting to be more of a burden than he already was.

"thanks for the food, by the way. takoyaki's my favourite."

“i know.”

he grinned at that, feeling warmth spread through his chest. the fact that you remembered something like that, something so small that he probably said only once in passing, made him feel fuzzy inside. it was silly, how happy it made him to know that you remembered that little detail about him.

he reached over and grabbed a piece of takoyaki, biting into it. "it's good, as always."

"mm. how was training?"

he grimaced at the reminder of today's training session. it was still fresh in his mind, the pain and frustration he had felt. he knows you meant no harm by the question, but he wishes he didnt have to think about it ever again.

"awful. the old man was harder on me than usual. made me push myself harder than i should've. i... lost control for a bit."

he trailed off, his gaze darting down to his wrist for a moment. he hoped you wouldn't notice the fresh burns there. he had forgotten about them while eating, too caught up in the moment with you. but now that you had reminded him, he felt like his wrist was about to fall off from how badly it stung.

“...what?”

touya swallowed, his fingers itching to pull his sleeve down in an attempt to hide his injury. but he knew he couldn't hide it forever. you'd see it eventually.

"i lost control of my quirk for a bit. my flames flared out, and i ended up burning myself." he held out his wrist for you to see, showcasing the angry red burn that wrapped around it. your mouth fell agape, dropping the takoyaki in your hand as you reached out to hold his wrist gingerly.

“–touya!”

the tone of your voice made him wince, guilt swirling in his gut. he knew you'd be upset if you saw his injury, and he hated that he had caused your worry.

"hey, it's not that bad, i promise," he tried to reassure you, his voice almost pleading. "it just looks worse than it actually is. it'll heal soon, no biggie."

“god.. what the heck, touya?” you hissed, inspecting the burn. you wanted to tackle him and pull at his hair until he promised he would stop doing this to himself. but you couldn't, so you kept you

he winced once again at your worried tone, feeling ashamed. he hated making you worry, especially about him. he was supposed to be strong, someone to be relied on, not someone who needed taking care of.

"it's really not that bad," he repeated, trying to downplay the injury. "i'll just put some ointment on it and it'll be good as new in a day or two, i swear."

“do… do you need me to heal it?” you murmur. everyday after training, you used your quirk on him to help alleviate any of the pain he felt after training all day. cryonics, or whatever your parents called it. you couldn't pronounce it, so it didn't matter. 

he paused at that, considering your offer for a moment. on one hand, it'd be a lot less painful - and quicker - if you just used your quirk to heal the burn. but on the other hand, he didn't want you to waste your energy on him, especially since he had caused it himself.

“its fine. really,” he said, forcing a smile to his face. “you don't need to waste your energy on me, i can handle it on my own–”

“touya.”

he shut his mouth at the sternness in your tone, feeling like a scolded child. he avoided your gaze, looking down at his wrists instead. your insistence was making him feel conflicted. part of him wanted to stubbornly refuse your help, but the other part, the weaker part, wanted to just give in and accept it.

"...fine," he finally muttered, barely above a whisper. "i just... i don't want to be in pain anymore."

you sighed, wrapping your hand around the burn as gently as you could. a million thoughts raced through your mind at the contact. what the heck was endeavours problem? pushing his kid to the point of injury. i should kill that guy. no, i shouldn't. are these third degree burns? i cant tell. whats the difference anyway?

activating your quirk, you tried to focus on the one specific point you were in contact with. it was like throwing darts at a bullseye you couldn't see, aiming blindly at anything that might help.

touya winced at the initial contact, his injured skin sensitive to your touch. but as you continued using your quirk, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. the pain and discomfort started to ease, and the angry redness of the burn began to fade. the relief was instant and nearly overwhelming. he closed his eyes, the tension leaving his body as the injury healed. the tightness in his chest loosened, and he let out a shaky breath.

"...thank you," he whispered.

he watched as you focused on healing his injury, the expression on your face concentrated and determined. he felt a pang of guilt, knowing that you were spending valuable energy just to help him. but he was too grateful for the pain relief to protest.

as your quirk worked its magic, he could feel the burn on his wrist slowly disappearing. the skin grew smoother, the angry redness fading away as if the injury had never been there in the first place.

“‘s that okay..?”

he looked down at his wrist, now completely healed, the skin on it smooth and unblemished. his expression softened, gratitude filling his heart.

"yeah," he murmured, flexing his fingers and marvelling at the lack of pain. "yeah, it's better. thank you."

touya looked at you, meeting your gaze. there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, his usual confident facade dropping for a moment. he took a moment to collect himself, his eyes averting from yours. the way you were looking at him, with such soft expression and concern, was almost too much for him to handle at the moment.

he wasn't used to being taken care of like this. he was the one supposed to be strong, to be there for others. he was the eldest todoroki, the head of the family once his father died. the idea of relying on you for help, for comfort, made him feel weak. even though he knew that wasn't the case, his mind wouldn't let him believe otherwise.

"you really didn't have to use your quirk on me, you know," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood. "i could've just toughed it out, like a true hero would."

"a true hero would have accepted help, silly."

"yeah, yeah, i get it," he conceded, rolling his eyes playfully. "i guess i'm not a true hero then, huh?"

he paused for a moment, his expression becoming more serious once again. him getting hurt was one thing, but you getting hurt for him?

"seriously, though. there's gotta be some limit to your quirk, right? if you use it too much, you could get tired or something. i don't want you overexerting yourself on my behalf."

"i get really hot when i use my quirk.. like all the coldness is goin’ away or somethin’.”

he raised an eyebrow at your explanation, concern furrowing his brows. "you get 'hot'?" he echoed. "like, feverish hot? or just regular hot because of exertion?" he hummed, mulling over your words. it was a strange side effect to your quirk, but not unexpected.

"still," he said, not fully convinced. "i don't want you pushing yourself too hard, you hear? i'll feel guilty if you pass out because of me."

"i wont, pinky promise. now lets finish the takoyaki, yeah?"

he sighed, knowing that there was no point in arguing with you once your mind was made up. you were just as stubborn as him, after all.

"yeah, fine," he relented. "you better not get overheated, though. i'm not carrying you back home if you pass out."

"aw. you're so mean."

he chuckled at your playful remark, his usual smirk reappearing on his face.

"i thought you already knew that about me," he teased. "i'm the meanest best friend ever, remember?"

“...best friends?”

he froze as soon as the words left your mouth, his smirk faltering momentarily. the way you said "best friend" sent a pang of disappointment through him, but he quickly squashed it down. he tried to brush it off, keeping his tone light and nonchalant.

"yeah, best friend," he shrugged, looking away from you. "what else would we be, loser?"

"well i didnt- i didnt  know you considered us friends?"

he furrowed his brows, looking confused. he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"huh? of course we're friends," he said, a hint of offence in his voice. "why would you think we weren't? i don't just let any rando see me lose control and see me hurt, y’know."

“...oh.”

he stared at you for a moment, searching your expression for any hint of what was going through your mind. he couldn't understand why you seemed so surprised that he considered you a friend.

"is... is that a bad thing?" he asked, his voice softer now. "me considering you a friend?"

"no. im... happy, i think. im glad we're friends, toy'."

he felt a pang in his chest at your words, his heart doing a funny little flip. he loved the way you said his name, the nickname ‘toy’ slipping from your mouth so easily. he hoped you couldn't hear his quickening heartbeat. he tried to play it cool, masking his feelings with a smirk.

"you better be happy," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "i make a pretty great friend, if i do say so myself."

"mm. now stop talking with food in your mouth or im gonna start tickling you."

he let out a startled garbled sound as you suddenly made that threat. he quickly swallowed the food in his mouth, giving you an indignant look.

"you wouldn't dare," he said, already scooting away from you in anticipation.

he knew all too well how ticklish he was, especially around his neck and stomach. he had grown paranoid over the years, always wary of people trying to get the upper hand in tickle fights. he knew that you probably remembered all of his tickle spots, too, and he feared that you'd use that knowledge against him.

he tried to look stern, his expression betraying his actual fear.

"don't you dare," he warned, his voice faltering slightly on the final word.

he wasn't ready to become a giggling mess, he was trying to keep some bit of dignity around you, dammit.

in an instant, you tackled him, tickling his sides and his neck, relishing in his screams of terror. caught by surprise, he let out a very unmanly squeal which turned into a peal of laughter as you started tickling him. he tried in vain to push you off of him, but he was soon rendered powerless as he was overcome by fits of giggles.

"st-stopp it-!" he managed to gasp between bursts of laughter.

touya squirmed and thrashed under you, his attempts at escape proving futile as your hands continued their relentless assault. his usual cocky demeanour was completely abandoned as he was reduced to a giggling mess, his laughter echoing through the air. he squirmed and writhed under your touch, unable to defend himself against the onslaught of tickles. the feeling was both torturous and delightful at the same time, and he found himself torn between wanting you to stop and wanting the sensations to continue.

tears of mirth leaked from the corners of his eyes as his giggles and pleas for mercy filled the air.

[hinamie]

august

[newvision]

Wow you think as a grown ass person you’ve got important things to care about. And then they do a Hannibal reunion in the ripe year of 2024 and you’re fourteen all of a sudden

[mysterious-secret-garden]

John Maler Collier - The Devil skating when Hell freezes over.

[casterintherye]

My hot take of the day is that Scorpius is not a loser. He had a bad reputation at the beginning of school but he's just so chill no one can hate him. He's friends with basically everyone in his classes and helps people on their homework which helps even more. He'd on the Quidditch team, gets invited to partied, and everyone he interacts with is accused of being his secret girlfriend.

ALBUS however, is a certified loser. That boy would never touch grass if Scorpius didn't force him to

[hannigramislife]

for my own gratification bc i just ran into nie mingjue hate in the wild, would you mind making a post that defends my poor good boy? he worked so hard and got gaslit to shit before getting murdered terribly ;; literally everyone sat there telling him "youre being too harsh" and he's just responding appropriately. like yeah, if you witness a murder, ya kinda got to do something about that as a clan leader. its kinda your responsibility, even when you care about the person who did the murdering. he was also a really young when he took on the role of clan leader and idk, it just made me rlly sad to see people dunk on him cuz wtf he's literally just trying his best in an impossible situation WHILE being perpetually fucked over by his clan's own traditional cultivation cuz now the stronger he is as a leader, the closer he is to going literally insane and dying bc of it. (mingjue did nothing wrong i will die on this hill) ((sorry for going on a tirade, im just sad and defensive of my good boy rn))

Oh no! I'm so sorry you had to go through Nie Mingjue hate! Truly tragic. I went through that once when in the beginning of me reading the books, when I still had no proper opinions, and never again.

I'm more than willing to make a post about Nie Mingjue! I'm always down to talk about Nie Mingjue tbh, he's my heart and love and if I were to have been given the opportunity to be his right hand person, I would have simply never betrayed his trust and married him. Rip Jin Guangyao but I'm different.

Anyways, I, huhhh, actually think you?? Covered it all??? Pretty much?? Yet I will talk about it. This will be long and non-coherent, because I don't have the books rn to find quotes in them and honestly, I could write essays on Nie Mingjue either way.

Nie Mingjue is a central piece of the narrative, despite the limited amount of appearances he made, and the fact that he wasn't close to the main characters at all. The entire second part of the plot revolves around him- it happened because of him. His murder is a tragedy; literally, by greek standards, man has Cassandra Curse all over him, so I don't get how people can tell me, confidently, that his death was warranted. I've been told the man had asked for it, and this has mostly been by Jin Guangyao apologists.

So let me make something real fucking clear.

Nie Mingjue did not deserve to die. Let's get that out of the way, anyone can fight me on that. Nie Mingjue had more good qualities than half the people in this fucking story, despite his flaws. After his father was brutally murdered when Mingjue was only in his teens, Nie Mingjue stepped up as clan leader. We can only speculate the hardships that await someone leading a clan at such an early age. Yet, political challenges weren't the only thing he had to battle; Nie Mingjue knew about his clan's harmful cultivation, and he knew he was going to die young. So what did he do? His best. Literally his best, always. He was always giving 100% of his abilities, because that's who he was.

Let's talk about who Nie Mingjue was, shall we?

When Jin Guangyao, still Meng Yao then, describes Nie Mingjue, he finds himself perplexed, because Nie Mingjue isn't like other men. He is not frivolous, and he has no vices; Meng Yao describes how Nie Mingjue never showed an interest in arts, or alcohol, or women. All he did was train, and fight the Wens during the war. It shows that he had a one-track mind from the start, and has got a strict discipline; yet this strictly disciplined man, leader of a clan that prizes strength, continuously indulges his lazy and undisciplined half-brother, his one and only heir, despite not understanding his interests. We gather, pretty quickly, that Nie Mingjue is a bleeding heart for his brother, and for the ones he loves in general. We see the same softer side displayed in the presence of Lan Xichen, and of course, for some time, Meng Yao.

People seem to think Nie Mingjue took Meng Yao's betrayal too harshly. As if somehow seeing a man he thought to have been just and honest commit premeditated murder, then cover it up, was something he was just supposed to get over. To this day, I can't believe how Lan Xichen was so understanding of it. But not only did Nie Mingjue catch him in a cowardly act - Meng Yao proceeds to manipulate him, using the fact that Nie Mingjue cared about him, to stab him in the back. Or front, however it happened. I get that Meng Yao was in a difficult position, that he suffered at the Jins, that he felt backed in a corner; but Nie Mingjue was a man that had extended his help to Meng Yao before, and even then, he went to find Meng Yao in righteous fury, ready to help him again. To Nie Mingjue, the idea that Meng Yao "had no other choice" but to kill - to kill in the manner he did - it could have been nothing but a betrayal.

One thing that I personally highly respected Nie Mingjue for was the fact that he did not judge Meng Yao for his background. This is not up for debate; Nie Mingjue stood up for him, quite publicly, quite vocally, when Meng Yao was being insulted over it. And not only that, but he promoted Meng Yao to be his right hand man, just like that. Because he's impulsive, and to prove a point, but it was still huge of him to do. Not even Lan Xichen would have done that - In a society built on power dynamics between social classes, Nie Mingjue was one of the few characters who did not let that define his actions. It wasn't because he was born privileged (though he was) but because he he didn't let anything other than his judgment direct his actions. Nie Mingjue also never shied away from anything; if it had to be done, he did it, no matter the cost.

Nie Mingjue was decisive, and had an iron will. When Meng Yao killed the Nie disciples in Qishan, he wanted to kill Meng Yao. Meng Yao told him, paraphrasing, that "don't you understand that if I hadn't done that, it would have been your corpse up there?" and Wei Wuxian takes it to mean "Translation: I saved you so you can't kill me, because that would mean you're in the wrong." So Nie Mingjue hesitated for a second, then said: "Fine! I'll kill you, and then take my own life!" And the only reason he didn't, was because Lan Xichen was there. Otherwise, Nie Mingjue would have killed his former friend, then followed him to whatever afterlife awaited.

Nie Mingjue is often portrayed like he doesn't understand stuff, like he's stupid, simply because of his black and white sense of morality. That's not correct: Nie Mingjue understands motive, but he doesn't accept the ends justifying the means. Scratch that, he doesn't accept or justify either, if they're unjust. The murder of the Jin commander, the murder of the Nie disciples, not executing Xue Yang - how can Nie Mingjue possibly understand Meng Yao's decisions, when Nie Mingjue would rather die, any day, than live thanks to vile actions?

And then, Nie Mingjue starts falling into qi-deviation. We know that it affected his temper the most, and his judgement. I don't understand how it works, really, so I don't know by the end how much was Nie Mingjue and how much was the mess that the spirit made of him - maybe a combination of the two. But what is certain, is that the rapid qi deviation changed him.

But I could write a hundred more pages on him, meticulously going over every single scene he has ever appeared in, because I find him that interesting. I find him the most interesting, and the most appealing character, because in a story where the navigation of the cultivation world's complex politics and hierarchies with tact and diplomacy is crucial, Nie Mingjue stands uncompromising in his principles, choosing duty and honor over anything else, even when it's hard.

[guhroovi]

Never thought a James bond henchman would be a comfort character of mine, but here we are

[hometoursandotherstuff]

[aliciasinferno]

Silly question, but worth asking

PS: This has nothing to do with personal religious believes, headcanons, alternate universes and crossovers welcome

[nyaskitten]

I wonder where the fuck Aspheera's Scroll went, the last time we saw it, Pixal used it to blast the ninja to the Never-Realm. I feel like something THAT powerful, despite its corruptive and darker properties, SURELY could have helped out with something like Wojira or the Overlord...

[mckittericks]

[ferigrieving]

when hell freezes over.

⊹ ࣪ in which touya todoroki finds himself.

a.n touya todoroki they could never make me hate you touya todoroki

⤷ masterlist ; requests open ; one – 2004 (here) ; two – 2006

touya todoroki was four years old when his quirk developed.

he was not a child born out of love. enji todoroki married out of desperation, an unyielding desire to surpass the current number one. a desire that not only ruined his relationship with his wife, but his children after that. a fire burned bright inside of enji, a fire that left no room to warm the icy relations he harboured with his family

touya’s training began almost immediately, a harsh regimen that demanded more from the boy than his young body could handle. hours not spent eating or sleeping, were spent attempting to foster his newfound quirk.

a quirk his body could not handle.

parents are often overjoyed when their children develop their quirks, proud of the future they now possess as a powered individual. but enji, enji felt nothing but failure and regret when he realised his only son could not manipulate ice the way his mother could. a failure, he would tell him, a disappointment to the todoroki name. nevertheless, he persisted with training, pushing touya further and further everyday.

in the dead of winter, touya found himself on the brink of exhaustion, the world spinning around him as he crawled on all fours, desperate for a break. he felt cold, so unbelievably cold against the biting wind, his flames doing nothing for him in terms of warmth. his father’s voice, sharp, and demanding, rung in his ears, urging him to push harder, to be stronger.

he couldnt do it.

in a fit of anger, he was left, alone, on sekoto peak, with nothing but his weak flame and the stars above to guide him.

“you shouldn't be out here.” a voice spoke. he wondered if he was hallucinating, collapsing on the grass and curling up in a ball. “its too cold.”

he stifled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. his weak flame danced in the wind, threatening to give out at every gust. “i have to train,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “my dad says i need to be strong.”

for a moment, silence enveloped them, the only sounds being the faint sound of crickets, and the soft crackle of touya’s struggling flames. he felt a hand on his cheek, warm to the touch. he didn't know there were physical hallucinations. he’d have to ask his mother about that when he got home. god, would his father let him in?

his eyes opened, wide, and glistening with tears. the hand was real, so real against his skin. the warmth from your touch was new, and never in his life had he ever experienced something quite like it. he leaned into it, a choked back whimper escaping his lips. he wanted more, so much more of that warmth, he could practically feel it seeping into his skin. touya had forgotten what it was like to truly feel warm.

“but you’re just a kid. you shouldn't have to train so hard.”

the voice’s words were a revelation to touya, a concept so alien it felt like a breath of fresh air. he was more than a little surprised when he came face to face with a child his age, wearing nothing but pyjamas in the cold. 

touya couldnt help himself.

he took your hand in his own, holding it against his face, desperate for the warmth. it had been months since anyone treated him with such kindness, treated him like a child, instead of a tool. a person instead of a weapon. treated him like a child.

“what’s your name?”

your voice was soft, softer than any he had ever heard before. without thinking, he pulled you down with him, cold hands wrapping around your wrist in an attempt to feel. “touya.” he’d tell you, watching as you splayed your arms out on the grass below.

the sincerity in your eyes made touya feel.. safe. a foreign concept to him, but something he knew he could always find in you. he snuggled up closer to you, throwing all ideas of a personal bubble out as he seeked out the warmth you seemed to emit.

“what’s yours?”

you told him your name, no louder than whisper, and you watched as he tried it out, stretching each syllable and letter out as if it was a foreign word. rolling over, you laid your hand around his middle, seeking warmth where there was none.

touya leaned into you, seeking your touch. his small body trembled with the cold, his flame dying as he curled closer to you. the warmth from your body was a stark contrast to the ice biting his skin. no one was ever gentle to him, ever warm to him. a soft sob wracked through his body, his hands clenching the material of your shirt.

“why’re ya’ here?” he asked suddenly, the words leaving his mouth before he could really think about what he was saying. his body was stiff in the circle of your arms, not being used to the contact. but in his childish mind, the touch itself was wonderful. warm.

he hoped you weren’t a hallucination, that this dream would not be cruelly snatched away from him once he woke up. no, he wanted to stay like this, stay where it was warm and soft. he tried to press himself closer to you.

“‘m stargazin’.”

“stargazin?” he repeated, tilting his head to the side, causing the fire still faintly lit by his side to bounce back to life, dancing and illuminating the planes of his face.

he glanced up, watching the stars dot across the night sky. a frown tugged at his lips at the sight. it was cold, bitter. the stars were pretty, but that’s all they were. pretty, distant and alone in the dark emptiness of space. tilting his head up properly now, he watched as the stars glittered above them, stretching as far as the eyes could see, some dim, some brighter. 

“what about that one?” he pointed at said star, a small frown on his face. “it’s brighter than the others.”

you followed his gaze to a bright star in the middle of the sky, twinkling sporadically. “that’s the north star.” you murmured. “some people call it sirius. i… think they’re the same thing.”

his eyes widened. he’d heard his mother talk about the north star before, a guiding beacon that always pointed north. he found it interesting how something so small could do something like that.

”it always points north?” he asked, rolling over so he could look at you instead of the stars. “how can it do that?” he paused. “does it get lonely being up there, by itself?”

“i dont think it does.” you turned to face him, taking in his bright, blue eyes. “look at all those stars. would you get lonely with all those friends around?”

a small pout formed on his lips, his face scrunched up in thought. no, he wouldn’t be lonely, not if he was friends with that many stars. he was quiet for a moment, contemplating that idea.

“are you friends with the stars?” he asked, turning to look up at the sky again, watching as they twinkled in the night.

you nodded vigorously, turning along side him to observe the night sky. the stars were clear from where you two lay on the mountain. the moon was full, tonight, peering down at you from where it sat in the heavens above.

after a moment, touya spoke, the words sounding like they were forcing themselves out of his mouth “...do you think i can be friends with them too?”

the question had left his lips before he could stop himself. in a state of vulnerability, he spoke his mind, something he never did. he waited to be ridiculed, for you to laugh in his face and tell him he was being stupid. instead, you were quiet.

he was just a boy, you thought. a boy who should be at home right now, playing with his toys after a good dinner, or watching cartoons curled up on his parent’s lap. a boy who you found crying in the dead of winter at midnight, alone.

“do you wanna be my friend?”

 a part of him wanted to cry, wanted to sob and press himself so close to you and never let go. a part of him wanted to tell you just how desperately he wanted that.

but that part was shoved down viciously, a cold, bitter hatred settling over him.

”i don't need any friends,” he said harshly, forcing his eyes away from your face, and in an instant, the boy you found just moments earlier, was gone.  “i just want to grow stronger.”

you were speechless, blinking at the sudden change of tone. one moment he seemed desperate for validation, and the next he was putting up a wall of cold indifference.

you knew you shouldn’t interfere, that you should just walk away and let the boy wallow in his training. but your heart ached at the thought, at the way his expression shifted from vulnerable to bitter in a matter of seconds.

”you don't have to be angry. you can have friends, and  be strong.” you said softly. “im sure all might has friends, ‘n’ he’s the strongest.”

he paused. all might, the number one hero.

the man himself was so charismatic, so beloved by the public. touya didn't doubt that he had many friends, both heroes, villains and citizens. a frown tugged at his lips, realising that maybe his father was wrong. maybe he didn’t just have to train. maybe he could have time for a friend. or two.

”i dunno…” he said, avoiding your gaze. “i should just focus on training, thats what dad says.”

but then why did he feel so empty all the time? the only thing he focused on was training, training to make his father proud, to get stronger.

it wasn't fun, wasn’t joyful. some days he wondered if he’d ever be happy again, or if he’d be trapped in his father’s cycle for the rest of his life.

maybe he didn’t want that. 

”i…” he repeated, and touya sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything. “i gotta focus on training.”

you almost sighed in defeat, watching as his eyes darkened. he was so young, still a child, and yet he seemed so grown up. you hoped you weren't like that.  the frown he wore looked wrong on his round face. you were so tempted to press the issue, but you knew it wasn't your place to do so. touya’s life was not yours to control.

but then he spoke again, almost as if the words were ripped from him, pushing themselves out of his mouth in desperation to find love.

“but.. its okay if its you.”

you paused, tilting your head as you rested on the cold grass on your elbows. an… exception? for you?

“i thought you didnt want friends.” you hummed, staring at him as if he was the most interesting thing in the world.

his frown deeped at your words, eyes narrowing. he’d hoped you’d say yes, no questions asked. he was sick of living a lonely life, a life full of empty training and sharp words. but you were right, he didn’t want friends before, so why was he asking now?

he didn’t want to admit that your presence was bringing back those thoughts. that your touch had woken something inside him, something that cried out for more, for more of your kindness, for more of your touch, for more of your words.

for you.

but he didn’t say that aloud. he couldn’t admit it, wouldn’t dare admit it. not when his father had drilled all his life that friends were a waste, that friends were a hindrance. not when he had spent years with a stone cold heart that refused to feel anything but anger and bitterness. not when he was just a four year old, and all he wanted in that moment was to bury his face in your chest and cry.

”i don’t,” he said, forcing his expression to be as cold and emotionless as possible.

“okay. ‘m sorry for askin’.”

he flinched at the way your voice softened in acceptance, the pit of his stomach twisting unpleasantly. there it was again, that guilt that welled up everytime he did something mean to you.

he didn’t want to be mean, he really didn’t. you’d been nothing but kind to him. but that bitter, dark part of his mind, a voice that sounded a lot like his fathers, kept hissing in his ear.

‘friends are for the weak.’ it would say. ‘they’re a distraction. you don’t need them.’

he almost took it back. he almost shouted, and screamed that he did, in fact, want friends. he wanted friends and kindness and everything he was never allowed to feel. he wanted to be a kid, for once.

but he remained silent, letting the quiet settle between them, a bitter feeling rising in his chest.

”whatever,” he muttered. “don’t be sorry.”

you werent friends. not when you walked him home that night, waving him goodbye as he stood there on his doorstep. not when you met up every week, in the quiet of night, to simply bathe in each other’s present. and you weren't friends when you brought him your toys, building castles with building blocks under the stars.

you weren’t friends, that was true. but in all reality, you were more than that. a friend would’ve left him alone, but you stayed. you indulged his fantasies and brought him things for him to play with, you stayed by his side and held him when he cried.

for a lonely child like touya, you were someone much, much more than a friend. he looked forward to those nights, those moments he could spend outside with you, far away from his father and his cold house.

it was enough for touya. knowing that he had someone to look forward to, that he had a place where he didn’t have to be strong. it was enough to know that he had someone who didn’t care about his father, or his quirk, or his talent. just someone who listened to him without judgement, without expectations on the child he should be.

he never admitted it, though. he never said to you that he looked forward to the nights where he could just be a child, carefree and happy.

you’d watch him, sometimes, in the big oak tree, while he trained with his father. you two never spoke about it, but you knew he could see you. you noticed when he began training harder, as if he was showing off to you. flames burning bigger and brighter. and, sometimes, you wondered if he’d accidentally burn the tree down while you were in it.

he wasn’t exactly subtle with the way he pushed himself, he knew you were there watching him. it was like he had something to prove, not just to his father, but to you. he wanted to show you how strong he was, how tough he could be. even when his body screamed at him to stop, to stop before he burnt himself down to the bone, he wanted to push on, convince you that he was getting stronger. stronger for his father, who beat him into shape night and day. stronger for his mother, for fuyumi, and his brother that was on the way. stronger for the future of a society he promised he’d protect.

stronger for you, so you would think of him as someone other than that weak, useless boy you found all those nights ago.

even as he stumbled and fell, face first in the dirt, he got up again. he ignored the harsh words of his father, focused on the tree, knowing you were sitting there, watching him as he worked himself to the bones. his body ached and ached, screaming at him to finally stop, to take a break. but he couldn’t, not while he still had you to impress.

and later that night, you’d offer him an onigiri from your house, holding your hands to his sore body and he’d relish the feeling of your quirk washing over him. he wasn't exactly sure what it did, but what he did know, was that it felt good.

your hands were cold against his cheeks, and he’d close his eyes as the ache in his body began to melt away like the first signs of spring. these moments were the only good thing to come out of training. the only time he’d ever feel relief from the harsh regimen he was put through, the only reprieve he’d ever receive from his father’s scathing words. 

he’d lean into your touch, the cold soothing the pain. it was the most peace he’d feel in his life, the only time he’d let himself relax, even for a moment. he craved the touch, longed for the brief coolness you gave him.

your presence alone was enough for him. even on the worst days, when he felt like he’d never be strong enough, never be the son his father wanted him to be, your presence soothed him. just knowing you were nearby, sitting in some tree and watching him struggle to make a large flame, made him feel better.

he started to think of you as his home. his safe spot, his peace away from his harsh reality. 

but still, he didn’t admit it. 

he never admitted just how much he needed you.

[fjordfolk]

weather forecast was really bad, so figured we might as well go to vågsøy where there's bad weather anyway

[indigomarina]

Hazbin Oc x Canon Week: Day 2 - Date Night (FrostedApple)

For @hazbinocxcanon

Glacia/Gloria is from this if you want to see more of her. Lucifer is pacing back and forth in his chambers, running his hands through his hair nervously. He keeps glancing at his reflection in the mirror, rehearsing different lines. "Come on, Lucifer, you can do this. She's just a woman." Lucifer said, anxiously. "A gorgeous, enchanting, incredible woman. But still, just a woman!" He shakes his head, letting out a deep breath. "Okay, let's try this again." He clears his throat, "Gloria, my darling snow angel, would you do me the extraordinary honor of accompanying me on a romantic rendezvous?" he asked. He grimaces, smacking his forehead. "Too formal, too stuffy. She'll think I'm being a pretentious prick." Lucifer starts pacing once more, trying to loosen up his body language. "Hey Glori, you, me, candlelit dinner, some wine, maybe a little dancing after? Whaddya say, babe?" He immediately winces, shaking his head vehemently. "No, no, no! She'll think I'm some sleazy dirtbag trying to get into her pants! Damn it, Lucifer, get it together!" Lucifer takes a few calming breaths, his hands on his hips as he stares at himself in the mirror. Finally, he nods, a look of determination on his face. "Okay. Here we go. Simple, sincere, from the heart." He straightens his posture and plasters on his most charming smile as he practices the line. "Gloria, I was hoping you might join me for dinner tonight. Just the two of us, on a… on a date." Lucifer said. This time, he nodded, feeling more confident. "Yes, that's it. Clear, direct, no room for misinterpretation. She'll know exactly what I'm asking." With one last deep breath, Lucifer heads out of his chambers in search of Glacia, his heart pounding with anticipation. Some time later, Lucifer finds Glacia in the hotel's garden, tending to the frost-covered flowers. He takes a moment to admire her, then gathers his courage and approaches her. "Gloria, c-can I have a moment?" Lucifer asked. Glacia turned to face him, "Of course, Luci. What's on your mind?" Glacia asked with a friendly smile. Lucifer took her hand in his, "Glacia, I was hoping you might join me for dinner tonight. Just the two of us, on a… on a date." Glacia's eyes widen slightly, and a soft blush creeps onto her cheeks. For a moment, Lucifer fears he's overstepped, but then she smiles, squeezing his hand. "Yes, Luci. I would love to go on a date with you." Glacia accepted. Lucifer feels like his heart might burst with joy. "Oh-oh really? You do?!" he asked, hoping this wasn't a trick.

Glacia nodded, revealing it wasn't.

"Th-that's great!" he said happily. "Guess I've pick you up later?"

Glacia nodded, "Sure!" "Great! See you..tonight!" Lucifer said. He sped off, bumping into a wall, making Glacia gasp before he rose up, showing he was okay. Later Lucifer paces nervously in front of the hotel, fiddling with his bowtie. He's dressed to the nines in a dapper black suit, red vest, and shiny dress shoes. A bouquet of icy blue roses is clutched in his sweaty hand. "Okay, you've got this. It's just a date. With the most beautiful demoness in all the realms. No pressure." Lucifer muttered to himself, he tugs at his collar, "Ugh, why is it so hot out here?" Just then, the hotel doors open and Glacia steps out. Lucifer's jaw drops, the roses tumbling from his slack grip. Glacia is a vision in a sleek, off-the-shoulder gown the color of a winter sky. It clings to her curves like a second skin, the slit up the side revealing tantalizing glimpses of smooth pale leg. Her hair is swept up in an elegant twist, tendrils framing her face. "Gloria…you look…I mean…wow." Lucifer exclaimed. "Thank you, Luci." Glacia said blushing, smiling shyly. She takes in his dashing appearance. "You clean up quite nicely yourself~" Lucifer scrambles to retrieve the fallen bouquet, thrusting it towards Glacia with a nervous grin. "For you, snow angel. Though they pale in comparison to your beauty." he said sheepishly.

Lucifer offers her his arm, and they set off on their date. He takes her to a beautiful ice sculpture garden, where they walk hand in hand, admiring the intricate designs.

Lucifer points out a sculpture, "Look, Gloria! That one looks just like you, wifey, a perfect snow angel."

"Oh, Luci, you're too sweet." Glacia said, laughing.

Next, Lucifer takes Glacia to a fancy restaurant, where he has reserved the best table. They enjoy a delicious meal, talking and laughing, lost in each other's company.

Lucifer raises his glass, "A toast, to the most beautiful and enchanting woman in all of Hell."

"And to the most charming and attentive date a girl could ask for." Glacia said, clinking her glass against his.

After dinner, Lucifer surprises Glacia with tickets to a live performance of her favorite musical. They sit close together, holding hands, as they watch the show.

"Luci, this is incredible. Thank you so much." Glacia whispered.

"Anything for you, my snow angel." Lucifer whispered, squeezing her hand.

As the date comes to an end, Lucifer walks Glacia back to her door. They stand facing each other, both reluctant to say goodnight.

"Gloria, I had an amazing time with you today. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did." Lucifer said.

"It was perfect, Luci. The best date I've ever been on." Glacia said.

Glacia leans down slightly and gently kisses Lucifer on the cheek. Lucifer's eyes widen, and a goofy grin spreads across his face.

"I… I'm so glad you had a good time." Lucifer said, touching his cheek where she kissed him.

"Goodnight, my king. Sweet dreams~" Glacia whispered in his ear before going inside her room.

As Glacia closes the door, Lucifer stands there for a moment, his heart soaring with joy. He pumps his fist in the air, doing a little victory dance.

"Yes! She kissed me! On the cheek, but still! Best. Date. Ever!" Lucifer exclaimed excitedly to himself.

Lucifer practically skips away, already planning their next date in his head, determined to make each one better than the last, until he finally wins Glacia's heart completely.

[ofrottenroses]

This is exactly how watching the fucjdjfkfb finale felt like .

[hyena-paws]

my ref for Adam in my When Hell Freezes Over au

(also in this au he doesn’t actually wear a leaf, i just think i’m funny)