#He just misses his mother...
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Mom
#Haejoon's grief is so heartbreaking#He just misses his mother...#haejoon goh#no home#no home wanan#no home manhwa#집이 없어#my art
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Michael Afton let his FNAF trauma slip again…
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#michael afton#mike schmidt#ballora#fnaf#fnaf movie#sister location#fnaf fanart#five nights at freddy's#I’m so sorry to Michael Afton once again#my boy just misses his mom#TBH he must have mixed feelings on Ballora#similar to with baby Fredbear and spring Bonnie#it just reminds him too much of his mother despite her not being his mom#Ballora is just based off her from what we know#Mike can actually sympathize here though he also misses his mom#Mikes just get mommy issues it comes with the title#Ballora at least is also sympathetic to this#love you dearly Ballora 🩵 really wanted to draw her again
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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.
#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3#i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother#i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u#but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it#and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child#im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo#gojo fluff#geto fluff#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#satosugu x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#……… thats… a lot of tags.
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The wrong DNA test
( what if, Sheila wasn't really Jason's mother? The system is already corrupted, then what about the test?).
A huge brawl containing every rogue had started at the time of Halloween, causing the people from downtown to fled there home's as joker had clownized the whole neighborhood with his goon's.
Every bats had taken to groups to take out the three parts of Gotham's as the rogue's had started to make alliances, some had lasted quite long while had conflicts, and causing a big damage to Arkham asylum,
It didn't take long before they captured all of them, none of the bats questions as they observed Jason glowing green eyes starting to flick, they thought it was the pit again, growing wary of the cooperation, but Crime alley was involved and that mean business to Red hood's turf.
Catherine todd love her son as her own even if not biological, Jason knew that. But her thing with drugs couldn't make her stop.
Sometimes after that, they could hear Jason humming a tune,a nice melody from Damian's statement saying that Jason muttered to him “ lullaby” as Jason continued to read his book, maybe it could be from Catherine,
they knew how Jason's past with Catherine todd, his mom even if not related, Catherine loves her son like her own kid but her doing drugs and... overdosing couldn't be stop.
Maybe Jason just remembered his mother maybe reminiscing atleast something familiar...even if it was a bad time.
Jason had constantly have been hearing a woman's? Man's? Voice, singing him a lullaby...it soothing, like as if he known and loved this melody...and that's where the dreams kept coming, there was a person, giving him kisses, Talkin to him stories, singing him lullabies and soothing him, he could dream that he was actually a baby, a baby from a normal couple, well don't count the luxurious baby room.
Jason had took out a conspiracies why he was getting this dreams, ( he swears he's not becoming Tim) and voices, maybe like a misshapen memories from the pits of victims? No it's to peaceful for that, maybe magic? He already contacted Constantine but surely hang up after knowing who it was-
Just how is he getting this dreams? Unless it wasn't.... So he proved again his point, he started a DNA test, again but none had records...of Sheila being his biological mother...that was weird, last time he had a test was from the time as robin..and before his-
So he went to that hospital who had said where Sheila had given birth to him, and most of shock is that no one knows a mother giving birth named Sheila haywood but had a document of a baby, of one Jason jay nightingale, the most believing part was that it's the same day he was born in.
His mother, Daniel F. Nightingale was said to be trans as the doctor who help his mother safely delivered him, And saying that his mother loved him,
one Sheila Haywood had the constant trick to get him and taken him as his own, because his mother's family was a wealthy one they practically sold him to her.
Jason had thought that maybe his mother's family never wanted him to have a son with a man from Gotham's crime alley.
Meanwhile Danny had just been YEETED to the DC universe before the start of Batman's justice thing and had been adopted by a very wealthy fruit loops couple as there kid, so he stayed as the couples daughter even pretending, because he owed ghost writer a favor for the last time, and as DC universe exist so it's story, and one thing for sure the child he had to give birth in this universe has a very complicated fate,
he did the one night stand from his supposed friend Willis Todd? He had to befriend him as Dalia F. nightingale the supposed Wealthy daughter who fell in love with a peasant trope, and gotten pregnant making it a scandal, and reaching to his ‘parents’ circle and getting that drama.
But he never thought he would care for his child, his little jay, his ghost side would purr in delight when they held Jason, he was a very hard sucker especially from his pacifier or his breast, it's so weird being in a women body,
but the way his ‘parents’ sold his son to the women who was supposed to get his son killed and being revived by cheap parody ass of ectoplasm.
He went feral, he had an argument to his ‘parents’ but all fell deaf ears, he couldn't find his son in one of the hotels nearby where that BXtch was.
And that time was where his part of the script was fulfilled, ghost writer already took him, both sides of his, were angry.
He. will. get. his. baby. back.
#dcxdp#Danny phantom#dcxdp crossover#Mom!Danny#Batfam#Jason todd#portraits#When the bats find this they decided to help find Jason's Mom only to find out she went missing#his Jay Nightingale now#yes- im getting of topic#so lets just say that clockwork has also has some things involved with his#dcdp#batfam#and ghostwriter#so if this doesn't go to your timeline aus or smth or cannon idk what to say#when the bats found out about Jason's investigation to find his mother#they gladly help but after finding where jason's grandparents who sold him to Haywood#they meet with them#and the whole revealed was much more depressing because His mother died/missing/suicide#Ghost writer was the one who plan the...The death scene.#so jason is sad#and very much wants his momma#because thats how ghost parents shit is right?#yeah i dont think im educated enough#So the grandparents are like grieving for there son (yes they accepted his trans btw).#and let jason and the rest of the batfam in there manor/castle ( cause there seriously old money) and introduce jason to his mom's things#portraits of danny#telling stories of danny in his youth.#but they avoided the way he ‘died’ for ghost writers plot conveniences but they mention#green...like ectoplasm but they just called it green liquid.
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finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0
i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.
'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?
Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33
So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.
Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.
Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.
For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!
She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.
Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.
She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.
She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.
Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.
(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)
(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)
On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."
Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.
He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.
"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.
"Yes, Danyal?"
"What is this?"
"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.
The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.
“Clockwork.”
“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”
She ignores that.
“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”
She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."
Oh.
"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"
Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"
And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.
Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.
It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.
Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.
Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.
Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.
A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.
A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.
She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.
She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.
He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.
And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.
She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.
And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.
It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.
She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.
"Is that her?"
"Her highness' friend? Yes--"
"--that's the one--"
"--Mother of monsters--"
Danny's not sure how to feel about that.
Although, she can't say she's opposed.
Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.
#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#danyal al ghul au#dpxdc prompt#fem danny fenton#fem danyal al ghul#mother of monsters danny#if anyone wants to hear about Layal specifically I'd be HAPPY to tell you about her. she's inspired by the song 'scylla' from epic#you can't leave me with dark danny for too long i give him depth if i do. anyways i gave layal mommy issues. she has a complicated view on#danyal and both loves and hates her in equal measure. she killed her out of mercy. she's her mother her sister her other half.#she despises her. she misses her. she'll never see her again. she sees her every time she looks in the mirror. she's 24. she's 10 years old#can you tell that i made layal during a time where i was thinking about the 'dan is danny's kid' dpdc trope bc that's exactly what happened#*holds dad!clockwork up like potato.* 'i just think he's neat :)'#i am incapable of making things only cracky. i must make it meaningful in some way or another.#MMMM i have to cut it off here before it gets too looooNNGGG.#if this flops i'll be sad :((#i just think the idea that danyal has her own little world on her island is neat. she's got dragons and wyrms and serpents and giant wolves#and griffins and one time there's a sphinx although she doesn't stay permanently. Danyal has a blast answering her riddles though.#that panther is based off the dnd displacer beast. there's little salamanders and gazelles with three eyes. there's more sea monsters than#just suhā and the other two leviathans but i couldnt think of any. im obsessed with the sea serpents if you havent notice LMFAO.#there's pegasi and a manticore and a ton of infinite realms monsters that are just an assortment of animals slapped together#the shades woods are a mega-island idea that i had. they're where a bunch of the “shades ghosts” are from. Its this large forest area with#megaflora trees similar to the redwood forest with canopies so thick and wide that no light can reach the bottom. so all of the native faun#living there have adapted to live in the shadows. there are a few villages that live in tall tree houses like the ewok villages that outsid#ghosts can go visit. the panther that's from there is very fond of danyal honestly. anyways yEAH ANIMAL WHISPERER DANNY.#her beasties are all animals up until she's like. 19. where she promptly steals an infant minotaur from a Legends Islands near Pandora#he wasn't being treated well okay!!! she couldn't stand by and watch. his name is asterion. he's a year old. and she'll kill for him.#i dont have enough tags to talk about Damian or her family >:T. just know that i am leaning into her assassin bg as usual :)
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homesick
remember who you're fighting for
BONUS: paula dont need no phone
#digital art#my art#procreate#earthbound#ness earthbound#paula polestar#jeff andonuts#mother 2#ness is just glad to hear his mama's voice and is excitedly telling her about the zombies they just trapped on flypaper#paula's just glad that the head of the team is doing alright#her powers are a bit more pronounced so she can just talk to her folks telepathically#jeff really fucking misses tony but he's been trying to put on a brave front for the gang#he's gotta be the smart guy after all and not a crybaby right?#decktech art#decktech
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Who the fuck were Lila's family? Her backstory in season 2 was that her parents are brits, but in this timeline she just has like 3 or 4 random american aunties and uncles and it's never explained? We're just expected to accept that she has this gaggle of family who are ready to babysit her plot device children.
And why are her and Allison the only one's who get other family members? it doesn't make sense and it feels like we were so cheated out of seeing the Hargreeves sruggle to fit in with whatever nuclear family dynamic this new timeline dumped them in
#it would have been so much more interesting if Diego and Lila had just had Grace and had to take her round with them this season#such a missed opportunity#and I wanted Klaus living with his single mother who ran away from the Amish after her suprise miracle baby#Viktor struggling with his first generation Russian immigrant parents#Luthor with a real classic WASP family who can't stand each other but always do matching PJ christmas cards#Alison having like an aging ex-beauty queen for a mother who lives with her and takes care of Claire#Diego having like 4 sisters and feeling very annoyed that he has EVEN MORE sibling BS to deal with#Ben having very loving and kind parents who don't understand why their son has suddenly become a raging arsehole#tua#the umbrella academy#tua spoilers#tua s4#tua season 4#the umbrella academy season 4
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In honor of Kane getting a Wyrmling as a familiar in my current dnd campaign. I like the light on it.
#Shadowheart x durge#I was about to fall asleep when I got up to make this#if shads gets to bring every animal she can back to the home stead#Kane gets to bring his dragon daughter#shadowheart hallowleaf#Shadowheart#Kane Hanover#Shadowheart bg3#bg3 shadowheart#the dark urge#dark urge#bg3#baldur’s gate 3#geuss i should tag the Wyrmling too?#Ethejra Hanover#she’s a magnetite dragon :)#I got her after her mother puppeteered Kane’s body against his will#using his blood and armor to force his movements#while he was dead#I also missed every attack#but I still got the ultimate reward#even if I was dead for almost the entire session#he can also speak draconic so I think he’s the only person in the party who can talk to her#so far we’ve just called her slippy#she also coughed metal shards imbedded into Kane’s back#but it’s okay#she’s freshly hatched :)#my sweet angel daughter#she’s not allowed in any combat encounters#same way I do Joyce’s falcon. also because if she’s not in combat she gets major plot armor.
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LMAOOO im sorry i have been holding it back but i can’t do this that’s persephone. it’s SUPPOSED to be rhea it’s SUPPOSED to be hades’ mom but that is 1000% persephone. anti lo community has been saying this for years but the similarity hits you upside the head with a baseball bat here look at this
im about to go fucking bonkers
#anti lo#anti lore olympus#also i love - LOVE!!! - how à dead titan goddess is brought back#the mother of hades whom he has stated multiple times he misses beyond belief#and it’s just “oh lol just time stuff :)”#despite it being explained barely three or four chapters ago that kronos had used up his time powers#SO SURE WHY NOT
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Will forever be mad that MXTX dropped the fact that Hua Cheng had a female form and refused to elaborate
#yeyarants#tgcf#tian guan ci fu#heaven official's blessing#hua cheng#mxtx tgcf#mxtx#mo xiang tong xiu#like hello??#why would you drop that and not elaborate??#mxtx my girl#why???#I knew he had something going on with gender I just knew it#not in a bad way tho#I will always think about this#I’m not sure if hua cheng’s introduction got changed in the revised version#in the very beginning where the other gods are talking about the myths of hua cheng#and what his true form actually is#like why would you not elaborate on that#if it got deleted I’m going to be mad#I will forever think about Hua Cheng’s female form#I WANT TO KNOW THE BACKSTORY OF IT#is it because he missed his mother#if so I’m gonna cry#he is a shapeshifter#ok but imagine the shenanigans of it#I can easily imagine Hua Cheng dragging HX to transform so they could fool and trick people#I WANT TO KNOW MORE UGH#tgcf hua cheng#hua cheng’s female form is my Roman Empire
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“I loved my mother. That’s the only thing that haven’t changed, truly.”
-Eren Jaeger in the new interview
*links for interview in my pinned*
#I can’t I CANT#he just misses his mom#kms#eren jaeger#attack on titan#eren#shingeki no kyojin#aot#eren yeager#anime#Carla Jaeger#mother and son#interview
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Also ngl I kinda love the concept of Debling courting Penelope and Colin getting jealous because of it, not because I ship it (he’s barely a character) or because I’m part of the crowd that wants to see Colin ~suffer (though I’m not opposed to seeing him dramatically yearn), but because the reason Penelope specifically is going after this vegan man is so fascinating to me. Like, she obviously doesn’t love him. But she will marry him to protect LW… she’ll marry him to please Portia, that’s so funny.
Girl’s so desperate to escape her awful family life while at the same time keeping her secret, but she also wants her mother’s approval. And she’s so caught up in that toxic mindset that she completely misses the guy she’s been in love with since childhood making heart eyes at her from across the ballroom.
Pen only has her parents’ terrible marriage as a frame of reference, so she probably thinks it’s a bonus if her future husband is much older than her because that could make her a young widow. He’ll leave the country for the majority of the year to fuck off to Antarctica? Oh to be left alone by your own life partner!!!
Meanwhile Portia is enthusiastically nodding behind Penelope like yes, perhaps he’ll die at sea, and neither of them think there’s anything wrong with this outlook in life.
Hilarious.
#just to make it clear i don’t think pen wishes debling harm or anything like that#this post is not about that#but poor girl has no idea sex can be good actually#so she’s probably relieved at the prospect of having to spend very little time with her husband#portia def wouldn’t gaf if debbling died at sea though. i stan#i just love penelope making bad decisions for all the wrong reasons and self-sabotaging in the process#that’s what makes her the most relatable character to ME 🙅♀️#colin being all sad broken hearted because he missed his chance… she doesn’t love him#no dude he does lmfao she’s just too caught up in her own mother-daughter cycle of toxicity to notice#chef’s kiss A+ no notes#penelope featherington#portia featherington#colin bridgerton#polin#anti debling#kinda? as i said i don’t really care abt him enough to dislike him#in terms of narrative i think he serves the same purpose as the prince in s1 and whats-his-face guy who flirted with kate in s2#but just to be sure lol#bridgerton#bridgerton spoilers#bridgerton season 3#meta#my meta#again… kinda
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oh im obsessed with this actually… who ever wrote this one i am kissing u on the forehead and hugging you real tight… inigo is such a loverboy im kkkhhhhhhijnsdnfng
#ann plays awakening#EDITING TO SAY I STARTED TAG VENTING HIT READMORE AT YOUR OWN RISK#anyways#LAST LINE IS A KILLERRRR WOW#‘ann werent you just pairing olivia with thar—‘ OLIVIA IS A BUSY WOMAN OKAY#but also i just had this old save file from when i wanted to see pink inigo and decided to get some more supports#im obsessed actually like#ok tag venting time maybe this should be its own post but u guys know who i am#not only does this support in my very educated opinion do a good job at emulating inigo’s way of speaking#but i think theres also a very underrated characteristic he has that not a lot of people talk about and its that hes honestly quite morbid#him spending hours talking to and dancing with his mother’s grave is very beautiful and moving but it is also not a normal way to grieve#which makes sense because duh nothing about his life is normal but its j like. you know#if robin is his father (and maybe j the normal convo i dont remember) in the hot springs scramble he’ll insist upon bringing—#severed risen limbs home as a way to remember the peacefulness (lol) of the springs#and he thinks absolutely nothing of it!!#i think he gets attached to things just a little too intensely and because his life is surrounded by death how he expresses that can be#very interesting. and he talks about death all time more than the other kids#bc while a lot of their coping mechanisms are based in fear and the need to instill confidence in themselves (think cyn or gerome or owain#or sev or yarne or noire)#and how their SCARED of death and of loss and adapt different behaviors to act like theyre not (to varying degrees of success)#i think inigo is much more accepting of the fact that death follows him and has made it a normal presence in his life#which is not a good thing it means that he hasnt let himself grieve. he lets death hang over him and follow him instead of pushing back#also guess which one of the awakening trio in fates has the canonical story death. just by the way lmao#anyways bc im writing this in the tags on my phone i cant actually see what the hell ive been saying im j stream of consciousnessing this#but my point is that inigo has a weird fixation on death and dying that stems from his inability to make peace with death and grieve#and i think him idolizing death in this support (this BRILLIANT fan support that made me ill) is so in character and so lovely#i miss him so bad (hes literally in the photos im posting) grghhhrgah#i wuv him :(
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So I just watched the new Helluva episode (the Specter Diddlers)
Most of the "fuck" humor just made me roll my eyes at worst, and I could sit through it at best. The focus on Millie was the sole reason I decided to check it out and I loved that she got to be badass and have new lore to her. Her and Blitz had notable chemistry (platonically speaking, though I've seen some people start considering the ship after this). I don't think I could add anything new to the already existing discussion, but I'll just say this:
Ronaldo's existence is... incredibly confusing. What kind of demon is he? How did he get to Earth? Sinner overlords are the ones that can be insanely powerful, see also: Alastor, but even he is confined to Hell. Succubi and some imps (like Barbie) can be registered as working on Earth, but they don't seem to have any special powers outside of seduction in the former's case. Aquatic hellborn demons exist, like Crimson's mafia or Glitz and Glam, but they also don't have powers. Let alone ones this showy. I mean, the one other time we've seen demonic possession was in Truth Seekers (iirc) done by Stolas, who is a Goetia, which this dude also isn't... so what is he and what was he doing up top?
(Though since he was also killed at the end, he had to have been a hellborn, as sinners can only die from angelic weapons...)
#helluva critical#helluva boss critical#not a confession#(well. just mine)#I'm tired of the Blitz pity parties as much as the next guy and we've seen his insecurities and trauma be broken down so so many times#like sure dude. we get it#the Ronaldo torture part where he watched it all flash by with tears streaming down his face felt particularly gratuitous#and Wattpad fanfiction-y (if I'm still allowed to use such terms)#but yeah the burning mother scene did go kinda hard#with the dead past Millies... I like it when shows do that. line up all the different possibilities slash bad endings#remember those pages in The Book Of Bill?#anyway I'm also confused as to why Loona will just oblige with Blitz's random bullshit to her own detriment now when previously she's had#no problem kicking him hard in the balls for so much as mildly upsetting her#but I've missed a few eps so who'm I to assume#I guess it could be because he's that down in the dumps but it's not even like he was WATCHING her burn them
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Captain 👏 Olivia 👏 Margaret 👏 Benson 👏 belongs 👏 with 👏 A 👏 D 👏 A 👏 Rafael 👏 Diaz 👏 Barba.👏
Full stop.
#olivia benson#rafael barba#law and order svu#svu#i know he officially doesnt have a middle name but thats the theory ive seen most since it is his mothers maiden name#ill say it a million times#elliot missed his chance and Liv deserves more#i was a hardcore elliot and olivia shipper my whole life but Barba can give her more and love her more selflessly#its for the best#i will not take criticism or arguments at this time#barson#i just watched gone baby gone and I cried twice#every one should have gotten awards for that episode#that acting was NEXT LEVEL#you could tell how much that episode meant to all of them
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Well. hrm. the way they all connect to each other. like it’s all starting to look like a circle of some sort. jess as rory’s mirror/reflection/narrative foil but also jess as he pertains to luke and jess as he pertains to lorelai. luke breaking the church bells luke who says he was troubled but they gave him a chance and just bc a kid has issues doesnt mean they don’t deserve that. luke who is a figure placed against the rest of the town, just in the sense that he is not like them, he does not hold their values, he doesn’t even sound like them. which is of course a result of scott patterson’s new york accent, but adds to this theme anyway. and they use jess to build this picture, because they walk the same and talk the same and they’re stubborn—independent to a near self-endangering degree—and emotionally repressed in the same way and luke himself admits that he spent more time working at his dad’s shop than he did at school, which jess also does. but jess and luke are also. very very different when you get past these similar values that are maybe ingrained into them through different circumstances and same genetic makeup. and in their differences you get a lot of jess and lorelai’s similarities. when it comes to their family dynamics and how it’s affected them in particular. it’s made them independent yes, but it’s also made them hypervigilant, almost paranoid in the way they are allergic to accepting help and especially accepting help from the people who hurt them. jess only goes to his mother’s wedding because luke asks him to, lorelai only asks her parents for money because rory needs it for school. and they, and this is where they differ from luke, don’t know how to trust people and so they don’t know how to talk to people. where luke’s particular brand of emotional constipation comes from a general cluelessness as to how to do it—which is why the tapes helped him so much—lorelai and jess’ come from emotional responses to the situations they grew up in. while it was different—lorelai growing up rich, jess growing up poor—the effect it had on them still resulted in something similar. lorelai with her overbearing manipulative mother and (emotionally) absent father, and jess with his neglecting manipulative mother and (in all senses of the word) absent father. the ways that, despite their effort to distance themselves, they still end up with similar mannerisms to the parent they have the most conflict with (lorelai and her controlling nature + that scene where they have the same nighttime routine, jess and his love for books + tendency to run away). and of course, their romanticism. their big confessions and period drama-esque speeches and, yeah, i do think in a way jess was asking rory to marry him in 4x21. come with me. let’s get married. luke and rory both being the most important people in their lives. literati+javajunkie where they are all melding into each other, and luke is rory and lorelai is jess but on the surface level dynamic luke is jess and lorelai is rory and they are all each other. on accident. by sheer nature of making jess as a character for the sole purpose of interfering with luke and lorelai’s relationship (which means he is important narratively to them both) and by making him rory’s love interest/foil (because ASP casted him before she even had the idea for the character) you have now made an accidental blending of them all together. he is like a skeleton key of a character. Okay. okay.
#clocking in for my shift at the pattern recognition factory#literati#javajunkie#gilmore girls#i was also going to talk about how rory is ALSO a skeleton key of a character similar to how jess is because.#well all the lines about how she is ‘just like her mother’ wrt stubbornness and defiancy and iron will. but it was already. very long. so.#i’ll save it for another post.#and in that post i’ll probably talk about rory and jess and their dads and luke also. bc that is also missing from this post.#sorry they are so mucu.#so much.#literatijavajunkie is the sun that this show revolves around.#also ties into how jess literally is the only side character that is also a Main Character. in this show.#like compared to rorys other boyfriends where their only importance is to rorys character. jess is like. essential to the narrative.#which is why he’s the one that almost got a spin-off show. he has the functions of a main character the exact same way rory does.#which is why the show would have been about him and HIS dad. literally a direct mirror to the concept of a show about a daughter and a mom.#whatever this is all going to be. in another post.#there are more screenshots to be gathered anyway.#ggwatch#gg meta
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