un dead

Wait a second...

Most people think Will’s face is starting to turn fish-like b/c he is breaking the rules and not ferrying the lost souls like he was supposed to.

However, I believe that Captain Salazar (the new bad guy) is taking the lost souls that Will is supposed be guiding. Salazar is building an un-dead army with them and screwing up Will’s life! 

Will didn’t break the rules!
That’s why his face is messed up and why he looks so angry.

So yah, rest assured Will is still a good guy and their is hope that his face will go back to normal, lol. He’s still my fave, fish face or not!

// so i just watched the video for gatekeeper galio’s special interactions today and when i got to his taunt for an enemy azir, i had to pause because i was floored.

// first half of it is, verbatim, “where do you think your soldiers go after they disappear”.

// let’s think about this for a moment. unless it’s simply an allusion to how they dissolve and go underground when their time is up (in which case wow rito that’s hella shallow for an insult that comes off pretty scathing), this implies that his soldiers are not just sand.

// if his soldiers are just sand, they will have no business going down to hell (or whatever rito’s version of hell is, tl;dr that’s where gatekeeper galio lives). sand structures shouldn’t have souls, and referencing GT galio’s taunt to orianna (”you wanna have a soul? you sure about that?”) it’s probably a requirement for things to have souls for them to go down below.

// this raises the question as to what he actually did to make his soldiers. one explanation would be that he’s actually raising the dead. however it seems to be temporary (at least in-game), and he either doesn’t or cannot give them enough agency to act on their own.

// after i got this far my mind first went to necromancy, but then i thought about his other feats.

// he raised an entire dead capital from the barren grounds. he made rivers that haven’t flowed for thousands of years fill up with fresh water again. if rito had included descriptions of grass or flowers or whatever growing where he stepped, it would become a full on fairytale stuff.

// thanks to this single voice line from GT galio there’s a chance that canon azir has power over life. and by life i don’t just mean things with souls - i’m talking about the power to invite life itself into something that had none, both actively (soldiers) and passively (capital, rivers).

// and just like that, suddenly the quote nasus gave us to conclude the first shurima lore update makes a lot more sense. that “azir can save us all”. now tell me that isn’t mind-blowing.

Se qualcosa è stato bello devi dirlo. Se qualcosa ti piace, se qualcosa ti rende felice devi dirlo. A forza di piangere hai imparato a difenderti e io questo lo capisco. Capisco che pur di smettere di farlo annegheresti nello schifo di una vita ordinata, con i sentimenti spenti e le labbra dipinte, ma se una canzone ti piace devi ascoltarla. Se qualcuno ti sorprende in positivo devi farglielo notare.
Devi ringraziare. Ringrazia, anche se ti fa piangere. Di’ “ti voglio bene” anche se ti fa piangere. Se qualcuno ti ha dato un bacio e da quel momento non fai che pensarci devi dirlo. Di’ “mi manchi”, di’ “ti amo”, di’ “ti aspetto”. Dillo, testa alta e cuore in mano. Non devi donarti tutta intera, devi lasciarti accarezzare. E devi, a tua volta, provare a ballare.
Fai delle cavolate, fanne tante, perché sono quelle che ricorderai più volentieri quando le gambe non saranno più così forti.
Se vuoi far l’amore fallo, non pensare “e se poi?” e “se lui?”. Se vuoi far l’amore dillo: “ti voglio”, “ho voglia di te”. Ci hanno insegnato che quasi tutto si risolve con un vaffanculo, con la forza, con l’arroganza, con la grinta, ma io credo che niente sia più irriverente e più potente della dolcezza, così quando vuoi abbracciare qualcuno abbraccialo e quando vuoi arrabbiarti fallo, ma non diventare mai cattiva solo perché qualcuno lo è stato con te. Mai.
— 

Susanna Casciani (via deadinside3695)

deadinside3695:

“Non diventare mai cattiva solo perché qualcuno lo è stato con te. Mai.”

Ho voglia di un abbraccio. Uno di quelli in cui vieni stretta forte forte forte. Uno di quelli in cui capisci che chi ti abbraccia, sta cercando di darti un po’ del suo amore. Ecco, voglio uno di quegli abbracci.
—  ventiduenovembreduemilaetredici (via deadinside3695)
Fuck me gently with a chainsaw
  • A.N. Jason's significant other finds out Jason is back from the dead. hilarity ensues. inspired by an ask on @uncpanda
  • “well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.”
  • That was all you could say when faced with the person in front of you eating the banana bread you had made earlier that night. You heard Alfred yell at you from the other room. Something about being ladylike and swearing, you loved the guy you’d think he’d be more forgiving considering your dead boyfriend, your un-dead boyfriend was eating your food.
  • “sorry Alfred.” You called. You stared at the person in front of you, he was leaning against the (expensive, custom made, Italian) granite counter top shoveling the remainder of your baked good into his mouth. Crumbs dribbled down his now strong jawline, his more green than blue eyes stared into your (e/C) orbs with a mix of fear, nervousness, happiness and sheer confusion. You put your hand on your hips looking up at the taller man who had just been a boy when he ha been taken away. A smirk found it’s way to his face and he reached out to pull you into hug. You accepted the hug.
  • “Oh hay bab-“ he was trying to press his lips against your jawline, you placed your hands in between you and his lips as a barrier.
  • “don’t ‘Hey babe’ me Jason Peter Todd. You faked your death for five years, didn’t tell me, ate all of my banana bread and you told literally everyone else in the family except your romantic partner. Oh excuse me former significant other and ex-fiance. Couldn’t you at least have had the decency to warn me? Or tell me? Why did you tell him and not me.” Your finger jabbed at his chest as your venomous words poured out. Each question grew in coldness. You pulled off your simple engagement ring and through it at his chest. It bounced off and rolled to the floor. After you were done there was a silence shared between the two of you as the iciness of your words and actions settled
  • “(y/n) I ca-“ before he could explain you spun on your heels. He followed you out of the kitchen and into the living room attempting to explain himself. He grabbed your wrist, you spun around and grabbed the nearest item. Which happened to be a vase filled with lilies and water and dumped the contents on you on him. you then flung the vase at a the wall (narrowly) missing Jason’s head as it smashed against the wall.
  • “that’s for my banana bread you bastard.” You yelled as you stormed away leaving the black haired man in a puddle of water and trampled flowers.
  • Bruce found you in the batcave reading photo albums in a pile of used tissues and chocolate wrappers. He sat down next to you and carefully moved the stack of photo albums next to him.
  • “so Alfred told you.” You sniffled as you pulled your legs up to your chest.
  • “actually no, the shouting, broken ming dynasty vase and a wet Jason lead me into the direction that you had.”
  • “sorry about the vase.” You murmured into your knees not meeting your mentor’s gaze.
  • “it’s okay, I can get another one. Its one of the perks of being a multi-billionaire.” He winked at you in a succeeded attempt to cheer you up. “you know he actually did die, he was actually dead. The joker did murder him and we did bury Jason. It was Ra’s who brought him back using the pit.” You sat up straight, stared at him your hands balled up taking your shirt in your hands in an attempt to keep your fists from shaking. Tears began to well up in your eyes threatening to pool over your (s/t) cheeks.
  • “How long?”
  • “what?”
  • “how long have you known?” your voice was slipping into the same cold tone from before.
  • “Three months.” Bruce said sheepishly refusing to meet your gaze. You let out a small chuckle.
  • “looks like everyone in this family knew that my boyfriend has been alive for three months except me.”
  • “if it helps Barbara slapped him.”
  • “it doesn’t but thanks for the sentiment. How did you find out?” you had a small smile on your face as you stared at your father figure.
  • “You know the Red Hood?” Bruce asked as he rested his hands in his lap.”Well, while you were away in Europe three months ago on that mission for Barbara we caught him red handed-“
  • “pun intended?” you asked grinning. He nodded and continued with his story.
  • “he told us not to tell you because he wanted to do it himself. He wanted to apologize and woo you, his words not mine. I was so overwhelmed by having him back I never questioned it. I loved having my son back, I should have understood that you would want to have his lover back too. (y/n), Jason loves you, so please give him a chance to redeem himself. Please give me a chance to redeem myself.” Bruce’s words were gentle as he took your hand and placed your ring in the palm of your hand.
  • “Thanks Bruce” you said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. The two of you stood up and parted ways. Him to wherever the hell Bruce spends his free time that wasn’t the bat cave and you to Jason’s room. You opened the door to the room that had been left in almost museum-esque condition after his death. There you found Jason asleep on the almost bed that had been too large for sixteen year old Jason and now seemed like a doll bed for the new man. There were tear marks on his cheeks and a few new scars. His face seemed older, more worn, more scarred. You ran your fingers through his hair playing with the new white streak that according to Bruce had been a product of the Lazarus pit. He needed to touch up his roots, the strawberry blonde was sticking out from underneath the dark hair. You ran your fingers down his forehead, down his face, you touched his jaw. His stubble stabbed your soft thumbs.
  • Your hands ran down his neck, down his chest to the ‘Y’ shaped scar across his bare chest. You gently touched the white scar tissue, he stirred before his eyes flashed open. He grabbed your wrist before he was able to register who it was.
  • “(y/n)”. you nodded. You stared at him, he loosed the grip on your wrist not meeting your gaze. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Tears pricked your vision as both of you sat there gripping each other like you could be ripped apart at any moment.
  • “I love you.”
  • “I love you too.” And then he kissed you. It was a slow Hollywood kiss, corny and gentle. He pulled away and then nestled his nose into your (color) hair.”you changed your shampoo.” He murdered as he breathed in, you nodded.
  • “hey babe, I’m sor-“ you cut him off with a feverish kiss. It was rough and passionate, you straddled him as you carefully held his hand in yours. You pulled away breathing heavily.
  • “Shush, Bruce explained everything.” You kissed him again, it was slower but still passionate. And then suddenly clothes were coming off and kisses were being shared under the covers.
  • He held you in his scar littered arms, your breathing matched eachother’s. your arms wrapped around his well defined waist as you both stared at each other (e/c) meeting aqua eyes. Both of you were smiling like idiots, like nothing was wrong.
  • “you kept the ring.”
  • “yeah, it felt wrong to get rid of it, to love someone else. To finally let you go, to finally except that you were actually gone.” He pulled you closer.
  • “I’m sorry I had to leave. But I’m back now and that’s what matters.”
  • “I’m glad you’re back.” You nudged your nose against his chest.”so Red Hood?” you teased.
  • “Yeah.” He grinned back.” I thought it was ironic. You know? Taking on the mantle of the man who killed me. Also aren’t you a little young to be making 80s chic flick references” He said with a wink.
  • “We’re literally the same fucking age Todd, also Heathers is a cinematic masterpiece. But seriously this explains the flirting. I was honestly starting to get freaked out that murderous, mentally unhinged, vigilante actually had a thing for me.” You said with a smirk.
  • “He does” Jason pressed a sloppy, wet kiss against your cheek.
  • “you know what I mean.” You teased back playfully swatting at him.” but I guess you can’t resist me”
  • “what can I say I’m a sucker for (h/c) haired cuties in skintight costumes with daddy issues and a thing for orphans” You said as he rubbed his freckled nose against your neck affectionately.
  • “You’re supposed to be my lover, not an asshole”
  • ”I can be both. Ready for round two?” he said with a smirk his green-y blue eyes clouded over with lust.
  • “only if you bake me a replacement banana bread. I needed that for a meeting I have tomorrow.”
  • “don’t talk about work when I’m about to make love to you, you moron. Also consider it done” Jason said as he kissed you.

foetal grave if un
ness our dead
undoom

the weather,
when violets
appear

shadow of ghost 
effigy or seeming

dreaming her eyes
have opened to your
morning

that morning which
should be mine 

undream that dream,
the heartless them

night’s utmost nothing

spiraling the luminous
climb of oblivion

so fear buries tomorrow 
unspeakable and looming

when I sang you were my voice

Stuck - Kyle Spencer x Reader

REQUEST: Could you please write a Kyle imagine were its in his head/point of view when he comes back from dead to yn like learning everything all over again talking and such please - anonymous

ANON OMG. I loved this idea so much, like all Kyle fic is usually the same but this was so different! I got to crawl inside his beautiful brain and hang out for awhile. AND THEN KYLE TOOK OVER. Like, this went in a direction I did not plan. I don’t do smut so well but KYLE WANTED IT AND IT HAPPENED. You horny frat boy, you. Thanks Kyle.


Your name was the first thing Kyle remembered when he woke up on the table in the morgue. You’d looked at him with those big Y/E/C eyes as he’d gasped his first breath of his un-dead life, and he knew everything would be okay. The inside of his head was a strange place now, a jumbled mess of thoughts he was nearly unable to sift through. But your name was always constant, always thrumming like a steady pulse in his mind.

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i think like what non-addicts dont get is if im suicidal and i get high instead of killing myself, thats literally the better option for me, isnt it? i can always get sober, i can’t get un-dead?
like yeah, addicts make the choice to do things in the first place, knowing the risk, but if you’re not an addict, you can’t possibly understand the pain and agony and hopelessness it takes to be able to put yourself in that situation?