#eggy writes

Fire is Roki, Ice is Todo. Shouto is Todoroki in general, without being split in half. Shouto is not mentioned in this here post but it's important enough to mention.

They're both EXTREMELY sensitive to the opposite temperature

Cuddles are either disgustingly soft and gentle or just a nightmare to attempt

Todo is the small spoon because Roki is warm and more open about wanting physical contact between the both of them

Roki is much more expressive than Todo (cough cough Todo is Roki's only filter) thus there's a lot of affectionate stuff he does which shocks Todo AND everyone who's ever met Shouto

Todo still loves cold soba, but Roki is pretty much repelled by it. He's sensitive to cold, as previously mentioned, so eating cold soba is out of the picture before it's even brought up.

They're not big into PDA, but sometimes Kaminari or Kirishima catch them holding hands or gazing into each other's eyes like the lovestruck idiots they are.

Roki's sight is frankly terrible, so he mostly relies on his other senses and Todo if it comes to it.

They can't play the "who's who?" game and Roki loses sleep over this fact

Roki and Bakugou get along... a lot more than they should. Todo's a little worried about how similar the two are, considering he and Roki are supposed to be the same person.

The easiest way to describe the difference between them is that Todo acts more like pre-sports festival Shouto. He's more passive in his anger, cold and intimidating when he wants to be. Sometimes he'll start frosting things when he's upset or surprised, which he claims he doesnt do but Roki has had it happen to him when he hugged Todo at the wrong time

Roki, on the other hand, is a lot more loud and frustrated in general. Todo will sometimes say that Roki runs on pure spite, but they know it's not true. Roki's comforted by Todo's presence, and thus a lot more open when it comes to talking about himself around Todo. He's a dork and has tried to get Todo in on his conspiracies to no avail

Once, Kaminari talked with Roki. Considering that Todo hoards the braincells, Roki ends up blabbering about anything and everything. This leads to an odd sort of friendship between him and Kaminari. Kami honestly just thinks it's hilarious and also kinda cute

Todo will sometimes go mute when he's especially upset. It's the complete opposite with Roki, as he talks his mouth off when he's distressed.

They try to match outfits, but with the white-red grey-blue thing they have going on, it's hard to find colour combos that don't clash. One day, Roki gives up and just slaps 'He's my ex boyfriend --->' '<--- Stop saying that. We're married.' shirts on the both of them

Predictably, Todo puts up a fight about it but he's won over by Roki's subtle puppy dog eyes and whining. 1-A freaks out over it, as they should. Sero has the guts to ask Todo if they're actually together and Todo just stares down at him.

you know what's better than one idiot? TWO IDIOTS

Todo hoards the braincells most of the time, but Roki steals one (1) and he uses to figure out if All Might and Midoriya are related.

They're both extremely traumatised and neither have a good sense of boundaries, which leads to many occasions where Todo frosts Roki's mouth closed before he can say anything insensitive or rude, as you do.

Roki still sets himself on fire when he blushes, but now his whole goddamn body is on fire.

This sets off a chain reaction that eventually causes a bunch of people to flirt with him because they want him to set himself on fire, apparently.

Todo, being the vaguely possessive little shit he is, decides the best way to counter this is to flirt with anyone who tries to flirt with Roki.

Talking to those two is always weird, but espcially so if you're trying to hit on Roki because Roki's just progressively heating up more and Todo is leaning on his shoulder, aggressively flirting back with you.

Because of this, no one catches onto the fact they're dating until Roki kisses Todo on the lips in the common room. Roki does it because he's impulsive and wants to PDA, a rare occurance in and of itself

They share daddy and mommy issues, which sounds extremely chaotic. It is.

Todo takes Shouto's approach to it, passive aggressively slurping his noodles and all in all just giving his father the cold shoulder.

Now Roki? Roki learns from Natsuo a little more than he should. He gets Todo to help him write a long, long list about all the ways Endeavour screwed up their life. Instead of saying it all at once, Roki writes one reason on a piece of paper and leaves it for Endeavour to find every. single. day.

Roki felt a bit off once so he asked Todo to just pick another reason off their list and do it for him. Instead, Todo wrote "I'm dating myself now. We will overthrow you." on it.

Roki really hates that half his face is scar, so Todo will kiss part of his scar before bed every night.

Their hair are different textures, so when Roki runs a hand through Todo's hair one day he simply leans back and goes "ew"

Roki's hair is a little bit fluffier and messier than Todo's. Todo's is flat but very, VERY silky. Roki is salty that his hair isn't like Todo's.

Neither of them like coffee or anything with too much caffeine. The Bakusquad get the two of them to drink a little too much coffee. Roki reacts as expected, filter completely gone and near (near, NEAR!!) hyper. Todo doesn't go batshit or act hyper like Roki, but he doesn't sleep a wink that night.

“Inquisitor?” He had turned his chin towards her, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He had slipped out of his vest and undershirt, they now warmed themselves on a nearby rock. Nimble fingers worked at the ties on the front of his cloth breaches, the bare of his back growing pink under the merciless sun that hung heavily above them. Aijah’s fingers still hovered on the first button of her tunic, she hoped that he dismissed the redness that had spread across her cheeks as exhaustion from the sun.

“We should find water.” He had suggested. Their ragtag group had found shelter from the heat under a tree, their water skins freshly emptied. Varric looked at them, amused, as he shoved a blade of grass between his lips. Cassandra had refused to look up from her leather-bound book that she was scribbling in, all that had escaped her was an audible sigh. Together, the two elves had trekked through the underbrush of the Hinterlands, doing their best to avoid the massacre that plagued the land. She was unsure of where they were headed, but Solas walked with such surety that she simply fell behind them as their journey led them to a waterfall. The roar of the waters caused the breath to catch in Aijah’s lungs, yet Solas looked at the rumbling waters with childish glee. His hand wrapped around Aijah’s as he dragged her closer to the edge. Together, they watched the water tumble over rocks and fold itself at the bottom. Without a second thought, Solas began shedding his clothes.

Aijah was intrigued at the freckles that dusted his shoulders and back, something that his tunic usually concealed. They gathered in random patterns, but Aijah believed that they mirrored the stars. She desperately wished that she could reach out her hand, run her fingertips across the smoothness of his back, count each freckle before placing a kiss on each mark. Her lips sank into her bottom lip, she was getting ahead of herself. As he shook himself out of his trousers, it was hard not to admire his physique.

“Come, Inquisitor, jump with me.” His offering of an outstretched hand was tempting. How curious, she thought, to have a stranger seem so inviting, to require her to relinquish so much in such a short amount of time. With shaking fingers, she finally released herself from the confines of her clothes. Although the sun pulsed with heat, she shivered from the amount of skin she was exposing. Her hand reached for his as she moved closer to him, trying to close the space between them two. Solas moved backwards until he stepped over the edge, falling backwards off the cliff.

Aijah rushed to the edge, her magic surging through her veins as she prepared to call the water up to catch him. Solas had maneuvered so that he dove into the water effortlessly, the surface of the lake remained still as glass. Solas resurfaced just a few meters from where he had entered the body of water, his face brushed the water from his eyes and nose. A grin stretched across the water as he waved at the white-haired Inquisitor. “Jump, Inquisitor!”

Aijah retreated from the edge of the waterfall, her stomach had begun to tie itself in knots. It had been years since Aijah swam with her clan mates, and high spaces usually settled in her stomach uncomfortably. She dug her hands into the mud, trying to calm her heart that pounded against her ribcage. Her feet moved without a second thought as she propelled herself over the edge. The wind tore at her white locks as it rushed past her ears. Her heart sank to her stomach as she tried to grasp at anything around her that would help catch herself. Her body landed much less gracefully in the water, and she sunk under the surface as her skin stung. She kicked her legs, trying to push herself to the surface, but she felt arms around her, pulling her up.

Not because he was strong, not because he kept it inside, but because his older brother would never let him.

When he was just an infant, his brother Hashirama would cradle him and coo to him, pacifying the infant’s cries.

He was there when Tobirama was a bit older and fell from a tree, promptly braking his leg. He cupped his younger brother’s face in his arms and began rambling, distracting Tobirama from the immense pain and stopping the flow of tears until a clanmate arrived.

When they lost their brothers he had already killed his emotions to better himself as a shinobi, but he buried himself in his training to overcome the grief. Working day and night to keep his focus away from it, but Hashirama has stopped him. He held him that night and they both mourned their losses, Tobirama finally letting himself accept it.

With time Tobirama watched his brother making his mark in the world, Konohagakure, an impact that would immortalize Hashirama forever.

When Hashirama hauled himself back to the village after one particularly long battle, Tobirama raced to his side.

He carried him to his room and set to work healing him, but he couldn’t save his brother. In the end his lack of chakra caused him to pass quietly into the night.

Tobirama didn’t cry.

The funeral was attended by every Konoha shinobi. Anyone who had met him loved him, anyone who didn’t had heard enough about him to love him still. After everyone had left except Tobirama, he kneeled by the grave that marked where his brother’s body lay and pressed his forehead to it, holding in the storm of emotion that could easily lead him to do something dire.

Skyhold had grown colder in the months since he disappeared, the once bustling castle grounds seemed to grow quieter. Or perhaps, her thoughts had become so overwhelming that they had begun to drown everything else out. Whatever the reason, Aijah filled her days avoiding her advisors by walking the walls of Skyhold. The roars of cheer when she quelled Corypheus’ reign had been deafening, and the celebrations had continued for weeks after, but Aijah refused invitation after invitation. Instead, she walked the battlements consumed with her thoughts and a growing fear that settled at the pit of her stomach.

It all happened too soon. A hurried goodbye, nights spent awake and yearning for comfort. When she did sleep she found herself plagued by nightmares of a large dark being with smoldering eyes and drooling gums. She knew, deep down, that something was wrong, that Solas was in danger. There was little she could do, and her advisors and friends were quick to brush off her suspicions. Still, she walked the battlements, cloak pulled tightly around her, and she waited. Waited for the winds to carry the scent of him, waited for a letter that would never come, waited for him to change his mind and return to the solace of her arms. For she had a secret, a secret that she had kept from him until the battle was over, a secret she would not be able to contain much longer.

She wrapped the cloak around the small swell that had become her belly, a protective hand cupped the underside as she tried to feel a fluttering of movement. It was still too early, but this was the only piece she had left of him. Would the child bear his likeness? Would it have the magical aptitude of its father, how he could make the air tingle without so much of a twitch of his fingers? Would it matter? She grieved for this new life, grieved for the sudden happenings of it all. How could she rejoice a new beginning when she was still buried in the ashes of the past? She knew that the fall of Corypheus would not signal the end, but simply the beginning of terrors to come. Yet, she felt obligated not to share her concerns with the others. Let them rejoice in this win, while there is still joy left to be found.

Her silver orbs passed once more over the mountains that cradled the castle, miles and miles of undisturbed snow, nowhere for her to run. She was trapped in this castle, trapped in the uncertainty of her future. A slender hand passed over her growing belly once more.

What is love?

He scoffed, wiping sleep from his eyes.

The Euvanuris knew nothing of the stuff,

For they showered their people in nothing but oppression.

Surely, an earth that was as aged as him

Had no knowledge of the stuff.

 What is love?

She asked, coughing ash from her lungs

As the shems directed swords and accusations.

Ripped from the arms of her people she was

Tasked with the survival of a world 

That scorned her for the point of her ears.

 This is love,

He gasped, as the curve of her lips made him falter

Made him misdirect a spell, his coattails incinerated.

She threw her head back, consumed by fits of laughter

That sounded of youth, of whispered promises, of second chances.

 This is love,

She breathed, his lips against her neck.

Their love hidden in the shadows of the castle corridors.

Only for them to see, only for them to feel.

His fingers vibrated against the warmth of her skin,

Calling back the piece of her she left in the ashes of Haven.

Day 3 of my birthday prompts! Thanks for sending me a prompt, anon <3

”I like it when you say my name”

The first time, sheuttered it,

Unknowingly, softly,

Like the flick of abutterfly’s wing.

She was wrapped up inthe safety of her dreams,

But she summoned him,and he came

Sat, watched, listened

He begged for her tomurmur it once more.

The second time, sheexhaled it,

Passionately, heavy

Like the weight of asummer night.

Into his mouth, herelished the taste

And coaxed her intomore utterances with

Touches, whispers,promises

And she begged for hisofferings.

The last time, shescreamed it,

Confused, broken

Like the cries of hispeople.

She existed in a realmthat he couldn’t

And he wanted her to

Follow, stay, call himhome

Day 4 of my birthday prompts, and it’s officially 1 week until my birthday!

Ahh I’m so excited to finally be posting this! I took the morning routine with a small escape-from-reality twist. I hope you enjoy it, thank you so much for the request, friend! <3

“Vhenan.” The voice wassoft, warm like a summer breeze, but distant. Aijah existed between the cushionof dreams and the land of reality, swinging between them like a pendulum,unsure of which reality she would end up in. She tried to swing back to the realmof slumber, the aches that fizzled throughout her body begged her to return. Thegroup had been travelling through the deserts of the Hissing Wastes for thelast week with little to show for it. Food and water supplies had begun to runlow while frustration bubbled under the skin of everyone in the party. AllAijah wanted to do was sleep, recover, and avoid the remarks that Sera lashedout, her tongue like a whip to the back of the Inquisitor.

“Vhenan. Wake up.” Thevoice was sharp, here, above her. Pale eyelashes fluttered and an instinctivehand rose to banish the sleep from her eyes. The tent where she slept was stilldark, the slumbering moon had filtered through the fabric of her shelter,allowing her to make out the form of her lover. The rest of his features wereshrouded by the night, but the sharp curve of his jaw was hard to miss. Atiresome hand reached out to cup his face, which remained smooth despite theweek that he had forgone the razor, she placed soft kisses along his jawlineuntil he returned her praises with his own offering. Gentle, yet eager, hislips roamed to the fleshy parts of her neck, fluttering over her skin like atimid butterfly.

           She remembered to stifle her sighs of contentment. Thetwo had yet to affirm any relation between them, although many whisperedobservations to eager ears. After the fire had burned low, Solas would make hisway to her tent to share the night with the Inquisitor. She knew her companionshad witnessed the caressing of hands, the lingering of eyes, soft smiles stolenacross the campfire. Aijah always hesitated, she was sure of what her heartwanted but she was unwilling to admit it. Perhaps this was all by circumstance,perhaps when this storm was over their love would evaporate with the mists. Solasseemed in no rush to confirm their relationship, either, which gnawed at herinsides, kept her up at night with cloudy thoughts. Was he ashamed? Was she notwhat he truly wanted? But he was here, waking her, praising her with kisses,and that would suffice for now.

So… I just started typing and this happened. Idk. I’m sorry. This does begin with a battle and implied character death, so I will include those bits below the cut and will tag it accordingly. Other than that, thanks for the prompt! I hope you enjoy! 

Run. All her body could fathom was this mechanical, innate instinct. Herchest shuddered as her bare feet flew over the rocky bridge that led her out ofSkyhold. The adrenaline had begun to ravage her body, exhaustion began to gnawat her and the wounds from her feet joined in the chorus the rest of her body hadbegun to sing. Stop. Stop! Thesanctity of Skyhold had been destroyed, the already crumbling architecture hadfinally caved under Corypheus’ forces. They were blindsided, just as Aijah hadfeared. She knew that the silence on the battlefields meant that Corypheus wasplotting, preparing, poised in the shadows like a hungry panther.