#spring-rest

[camilleflyingrotten]

[jazzradio]

fly on, Thunderbird fly

hi its me again. science cont by @mechncheese !!

[mcr0wave]

more emic unfortunately...💔💔💔💔 i love announcing them like they're an illness bc they are. erasermicosis 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

[narliecaps]

[nnicknnelsonn]

when life presents you with the image you never knew you always needed

Source: @heartstoppercentral (X); more from that day (X)

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Headcanon that like normal not world threatening visions for Adaine are just kind of like absence seizures so occasionally she’ll just go really quiet and just stare off into the distance and the rest of the Bad Kids will try to like slow down and chill out so she’s not too disoriented when she comes back (if they’re somewhere really loud or chaotic she’s given them permission to like put some noise cancelling headphones on her or wrap her in Fabian’s blanket battle sheet)

[todayis-snowy]

“Looks good in blood and better in tears.”

[444prilsbae]

springtime 🦋

[skateisawesome]

i love being unhealthily obsessed with pieces of media that my friends have never heard of!

[v1rginsu1cidal]

Feeling a little bit off lately

✧⁠*｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+.⁠｡ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧✧⁠*｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+.⁠｡ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧✧⁠*｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+.⁠｡ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

[m1lkywaymikey]

Bullets autumn, black parade winter, three cheers spring, danger days summer

[lepitorus]

(psssst....... what do we think)

[nervouspearl]

His emotions were a small knot in the back of her head, all steely hard determination. She knew the muted pain of old injuries, tamped down and ignored.

[sophiethewitch1]

In Death's Embrace

Jason x Death!Reader

His head is in your lap, the sun peeking through the black locks of his hair. He grumbles at the light interrupting his nap, and turns and presses his face into your thigh. You chuckle, carting a hand through his hair just like he loves you to.

He’s at peace. The world is at peace. He’s safe here, in your unending embrace, and he knows he’ll never have to leave it. He knows that’s the way it should be.

“You’re so clingy today,” you tease him, and he chooses to ignore your words. The quiet is peaceful, and he longs for more of it, even as he wants your words too. Of course, as always, you understand. Instead, you whisper sweet nothings to him, gazing out at the wheat fields surrounding the two of you.

There’s a book in your hand, the one that doesn’t pet him. It’s in a language he doesn’t know, doesn’t recognise. It’s probably as old as you are.

He didn’t know much about you. He didn’t need to. He understood who you were, what you were. He wasn’t stupid. He understood that you comforted billions of others, held them like you held him. Maybe once he would’ve been jealous, but he knew that feeling was pointless too.

Here, you wouldn’t let him feel anything but peace. Here, he needn’t want for anything but you, and you’d always give yourself over to him freely.

Your hand pauses in his hair. It tightens. Jason likes the feeling, likes anything you do to him, but he senses your tension, and opens his eyes. You’re not looking at him, instead staring up at the blue sky. Mouth pursed, you tilt your head.

You look back down at him, smiling softly. It’s the same as every other smile you give him, but he doesn’t like it. Doesn’t trust it. Something’s wrong, and he’s filled immediately with a sense of panic he hasn’t known in years.

“Fascinating,” you say, and Jason pulls himself up from your lap, grabbing your hands in his. You let him move you, let him pull you to your feet, don’t resist as he follows his instincts, running into the strands of wheat like hell is on his heels.

It might be.

“Jason,” you call his name, your voice calm despite his hurried breathing, “Jason, dear.”

He pauses just long enough to look back at you, to look at the blue sky cracking open in jagged edges, to see the reeds pulling backward into a gaping void. He can feel the sucking gravity, and he plants his feet against the wind. You’re unaffected by the tear in the sky, your hair calm, your clothes still.

“Jason, it’s a good thing. Not many get a second chance,” you cajole him, pulling on hand from his grasp to cup his chin. He leans into your touch, savouring it, needing it.

“It’s not. I won’t leave you, I can’t,” he whispers, his words almost lost in the roar of the wind.

“You have no choice,” and your eyes are almost… sad. He doesn’t think that’s right. He doesn’t think someone like you should feel sad. You’ve seen so much, know so much.

What does it say for his future? What does it mean, when Death looks at you with pity?

“Save me, please,” he begs you, and you shake your head.

“I have no choice, either. You must make the most of it, Jason. You must do your best. And I’ll be here when you come home, waiting for you,” you promise him, and he has to choke down a sob. This isn’t right. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

He was supposed to have you forever.

“How can I when you’re not there with me?”

You peer into his eyes, and the void rips wider behind you.

“You won’t remember me, darling.”

The last thought, before it takes him, before it swallows him whole, is that that’s the worst part.

Part two!

[fysus17]

Okay, was anybody gonna tell me that Fulgrim chokes the Avatar of Khaine to death WITH HIS BARE FUCKING HANDS? Or was I supposed to just read the book myself to figure that out? Like he is that girl.

[todayisafridaynight]