#I’d also except sorcerer for her.

[bookburners]

Everybody is wrong actually

Neil: Bard

Andrew: Paladin

Kevin: Wizard

Renee: Monk

Aaron: Cleric

Matt: Fighter

Allison: Rouge

Dan: Paladin

Nicky: Bard

[dellalyra]

i get to shy to ask bUTT idk if this is weird but maybe for family formation series reader is in danger OR the fam welcoming baby gojo and reader into the family ?? idk either would be a fun idea

A/N: PLEASE don't be shy to ask getting requests makes me so unbelievably happy you've no idea and I know you said or but... I'm gonna do both of these requests bc I love them both sm :):) i hope u enjoy this one and I’ll post the other one later in the week!!! Thank u sm for these <3 I like doing this series bc it feels like a nice escape from the trauma the manga provides :):)

Summary: The newest addition to the patchwork family arrives, and is welcomed with open arms.

CW: childbirth, pregnancy, fluff, just adorable found family stuff, mild swearing, mentions of Tsumiki being cursed, lots and lots of love.

Recommended Listening:

Can’t Take My Eyes off You - Frankie Valli (Everyone meets Akio/general vibe)

I Hear A Symphony - Cody Fry (Megumi meets Akio, from Satoru’s POV)

A Kiss to Build A Dream On - Louis Armstrong (the ending)

Masterlist

Family Formation Part Seven

13 hours of labour later, a 56cm, 8lb 5oz, white-haired, sparkling blue-eyed bundle of love was laid in your arms. Exhausted, sore, and sweaty but so full of endorphins it all seems trivial. Satoru had been by your side for the full 13 hours, refusing to eat because you couldn’t, laying behind you supporting your back and giving endless encouragement and finally catching your long-awaited baby boy. You had made a list of names throughout your pregnancy and the second you both laid eyes on your son, there was no other name needing consideration, Akio was perfect.

Satoru had cried (a lot) when his baby boy was put into his arms for the first time as Shoko stitched him up and cleaned him. You had point-blank refused to have anyone except Shoko deliver your baby, which was a smart choice given that this child was the amalgamation of the strongest sorcerer and a sorceress wielding one of the most powerful innate cursed techniques- plus, she was your best friend.

After his first bath and being wrapped in the blanket your great-grandmother had made, Akio was settled into your arms as Satoru went to announce the arrival of his darling boy to the people in the waiting room.

He came in and asked if you were ready for visitors and as tired as you were, you couldn’t wait another moment for Akio to meet his family. Your mom was out of the country and rushing home as you were in labour, dropping all sorcery diplomacy and running to her daughters’ side.

‘Let them in one at a time ‘toru.’ You say as he opens the door and calls in the person who you wanted him to meet first.

A spiky head of raven hair appears in the doorway. You smile and tilt the bundle in your arms to face him. “Gumi, I’d like you to meet your baby brother, Akio Ryu Tadashi Gojo.”

Somehow despite the 9 months’ notice, Megumi seems completely shocked.

“Holy shit, he’s real.” He looks between you and Gojo, who laughs a little at the reaction.

“Yeah kiddo, he’s very real. The bruises on my hand from your mom’s squeezing are the painful proof!” He says, waving his slightly blue wrist.

“Shut up, mom did all the real work. Are you okay? Is he okay? Do you need anything?”

“We’re both fine sweet boy, I’m sore but I did just push out a human so I’m sore. Come closer, honey. He wants to see you.”

Megumi grimaces at the thought of your pain, and also with the awkward teenage boy reaction to childbirth. He slowly moves closer, as if him moving to fast will cause the baby to shatter like glass.

“He looks like you, mom.” He says.

“You think? He’s got your dad’s colourings.”

“Nah, he’s too pretty to look anything like dad.��

You let out a huff of laughter as your husband acts out a wound in his chest on your other side.

“Do you want to hold him?”

“Uh… okay.”

The nerves have spiked in him so you scoot over to make room for him to sit on the bed beside you.

“Okay so put your arms like this, and make sure you hold his pretty little head.” Satoru says as he lifts Akio from you and places him into Megumi’s stiff arms. You smile at how cautious your husband is, you’ve been raised surrounded by children and babies so this all feels like second nature to you.

“Hey ‘lil man. I’m Megumi. I’m your brother I guess. I’m gonna show you some really cool stuff when you grow up, and make sure your dad doesn’t turn you into a clone of himself.” Megumi says to the blinking eyes of the baby he holds. You can tell he doesn’t know what to say, so you wrap you arm around your two sons.

“Megumi is gonna be the best big brother, he can show you his shikigami and show you all the cool music and read you the best books. He’s gonna keep you real safe too.” You say.

There’s silence for a minute as Megumi just looks at the baby.

“Tsumiki would have been so excited about you. She was – is, my big sister. So I guess yours too. I hope she meets you someday.” The slight hitch in his voice shows that holding his baby brother is making him realise how Tsumiki must have felt.

“You will meet her, Akio, and she’s gonna love you so much. Just how she loves Megumi.” You kiss the side of his head, and Gojo squeezes his arm around the boys broad shoulders, for once Megumi leans into him and doesn’t push him away.

“Eh, Nobara told me that you give gifts to the baby when they’re born. So I made something. It’s in my bag on the ground if you wanna grab it.”

Satoru leans down and opens it and freezes. He turns to you and pulls out a book. He sits on your other side and lays the book on your lap for you both to see.

In Megumi’s beautiful tidy cursive, on the cover, is written ‘Your Family’ and ask you open it you see photos he must have taken of you, Satoru, himself, Tsumiki, your parents, Yuuji and Nobara, Shoko and Nanami, Yaga and in one photo, in the corner you notice Geto, smiling with his arm around Gojoy, you had both discussed that you would raise your kid to know about his Uncle Geto as the man he was in high school, before the world became too much for him. Yaga makes an appearance too, along with Utahime and the second years. There’s wedding photos from you and Satoru’s big day, ones you remember Shoko taking in high school, photo’s you’ve never seen before from your pregnancy, ones of you and Satoru on missions. You realise that there’s an ‘introduction’ to each family member on each page and you begin to sob reading them.

“Oh shit, I didn’t know you’d cry.” Megumi says, panicking he’d upset you.

“Oh no sweetheart, it’s happy tears. I love it so much, it’s so beautiful. I can’t believe you did this, he can keep it forever now. Thank you, darling boy.” There’s tears in Gojo’s eyes too, behind his small sunglasses as he sweeps you 3 into a hug in his long arms.

“Um, it’s okay, I’m glad you like it. Figured he’d need a roadmap to navigate this mess.” He smirks. “Are you gonna let the others in?”

“Should we FaceTime Yuuta?” Satoru asks.

“No it will be 3am for him, we’ll ring him later. Akio’s not going anywhere.” You say, making sure your newest stray child gets his sleep is important.

“Satoru, godfather next.” You say and Satoru opens the door and waves his hand.

In walks Nanami, suit jacket draped over his arm and glasses tucked into his pocket.

“Akio! This is your Uncle Nanamin!” Satoru joyful waves between the two of them, and the tick in Kento’s jaw makes you laugh, he walks over to you on the bed, Akio now back in your arms and Megumi on the armchair beside you, Satoru standing just staring at his son.

“Congratulations, Y/N, Satoru. You did wonderfully. Was he a healthy size?” Nanami asks, practical as ever.

“8lbs 5oz and 56cm, he got his father’s height.” You say, looking at your towering man.

“And his hair and eyes, but he definitely looks like you, Y/N. He’s too cute to look like Gojo.” He says.

“Is everyone going to say that? I – am offended.” Satoru says pointing at Nanami. You laugh and you hear Megumi snort.

“Kento, we were hoping to ask you a question now you’re here.” You say, looking to Satoru, wanting him to ask.

“We were hoping that you wouldn’t just be Uncle Nanamin, but maybe you would be godfather Nanamin?” He says making a theatrical gesture towards the baby.

For once, the smile on Nanami’s face isn’t hidden.

“I would be honoured, Akio. But please, call me Uncle Kento. I presume Shoko is the godmother.”

“Godmother and doctor who delivered him.” You nod.

Nanami lifts a box from behind him.

“A gift for my godson.” He hands it to Satoru who wastes no time in opening the gift and goes “Wow! That’s so cool!” before he shows it to you, it’s a beautiful wooden box with ‘keepsakes’ engraved on the front.

“Oh Nanami, it’s wonderful, thank you so much! I love it.”

“Of course, shall I let the next guests in?”

He turns and calls in Yuuji and Nobara, who push past each other to get through the door first and you can hear the bickering.

The both gasp when they enter the room.

“Sensei! Y/N! That’s a baby!” Yuuji exclaims and Nobara’s mouth hangs open.

“Great observation Itadori.” Megumi smirks.

“No it’s just like – wow, you made a whole person! Well like a small one but still a person! It’s crazy!” He almost jumps toward you and stares through big brown eyes as Nobara skips toward you.

“Oh my god Sensei he’s so cute!!! His tiny hands!! And feet!! And nose!! What’s his name?? You’re so amazing Y/N!” She says. These two are definitely a different speed from the other two visitors in the room.

“His name is Akio.” You smile.

“Are you okay Y/N? Did it hurt really bad? Is there a way we can help?”

“I’m okay, Yuuji, and the pain was worth it.”

A mouth appears on Yuuji’s face.

“Hmph, the Gojo spawn has arrived I see. You’re stronger than I expected, woman.”

A chorus of ‘shut up Sukuna’ echoes across the room. But you look directly at his cheek and say,

“Thank you, Ryomen.” He sneered and retreated.

“I got you these Y/N!” Yuuji’s smile takes over his whole face as he hands you a huge bouquet of peony roses.

“I remember Gojo was talking about how they’re your favourites but the flower lady laughed when I asked for penises, and Nobara really died laughing so she told me they’re called Peonies.” You and Satoru burst into hysterical laughter at the thought of Itadori asking a florist for penises.

“They are my favourite, thank you honey, they’re so beautiful. Nanami, would you mind putting them in some water for me?” You say and he takes the flowers from Yuuji and you give him a kiss on the cheek.

Nobara whisks out a huge gift bag and says,

“I went shopping and bought some cute baby clothes! Look at these dungarees, they have tiny lions on them!” She shoves the bag at Satoru who nearly tumbles at its size, proving she went way overboard.

“You two are both so sweet, thank you guys. You’re both gonna make great babysitters.”

They both squeal and move to sit on the arms of the chair beside Megumi.

The next people to come in were the second years, Inumaki saying ‘Tsuna!’ As soon as he saw the baby and giving you a thumbs up and pat on the head. Panda began crying because the baby was so cute and small, and Maki immediately asked how you were, telling you she is amazed by your strength and how great you are for delivering a whole child. Toge and Panda had pitched together to buy Akio a stuffed panda and a jellycat riceball. And Maki, in very Maki fashion, brought diapers and wipes. Shoko came to the door next, returning from a rest after delivering your son.

“Mei Mei’s crows just dropped these off, they’re from Utahime and her.” You smiled taking the bags from her. Utahime was on a mission at the moment and couldn’t make it down to see you, but had sent you a beautiful card congratulations you and saying she was happy Satoru could do something right, and a beautiful box of postpartum beauty supplies, stretch mark cream and cooling eye patches included. Mei Mei also sent a card, with a set of the most expensive looking matching satin pyjamas for you and Akio.

Yaga also dropped by, clapping Satoru on the shoulder and whispering, “Well done, my boy.” To him, you knew this meant a lot to Satoru.

Your family had already given you your gift for your son, a cutting from a tree from your family home that your great great great great grandmother planted when her first child was born, using your families innate inherited technique. The tree bloomed soft blue flowers year round, no matter the weather and always seemed to faintly glow at night.

The Gojo clan, they had sent the Gojo heirloom silver rattle which Satoru had once owned as a child. Your mother was due to arrive the following day, and you knew she would be spoiling her 3rd grandchild rotten and you too when she arrived. She loved Satoru, and he loved her, so she was going to stay with you both for a week to help you both ease into the life of new parents, and Satoru couldn’t have squeezed and hugged her tighter when she offered.

After another half an hour, Satoru notices you yawning, with Akio asleep in his arms.

“Okay momma is tired everyone it is time to leave now! You can all come back and fawn over how cute my mini me is some other time.”

After everyone wishes you goodbye and a final kiss on the head for Megumi, who you send back to his dorm with a quiet thank you again for the book, you, Satoru and Akio are left in the peaceful room surrounded by keepsakes and your peonies now on the table beside the bed.

You scoot over to let Satoru into the bed beside you, and he places Akio in the crib beside you both. He squirms under the blanket, careful to be very gentle with you, knowing you’re still tender and aching. He wraps an arm gingerly across your stomach and presses soft kisses into your hairline, you tilt your head up and kiss his soft perfect lips.

“He’s really here, our little boy.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re so incredible, I’m in awe of you, I never thought I could love anything as much as I love you and the kids.. Thank you for giving me a family.” He says, pointing to the handmade book beside you both.

“Thank you for making it possible, you deserve the world, ‘Toru.”

And with that, you both curl up, drifting off in each others arms listening to the soft breaths of the baby beside you.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

Comment to be added!

Requests open! <3

[otakugoddes]

"Better Suited" Megumi Fushiguro X Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Featuring: Megumi Fushiguro

Warnings: Mentions of misogyny and sexism and the death of Toji Fushiguro/Zen'in; mild Profanity; the Zen'in Clan (they're a walking red flag and you know it, except Maki, she's a KING).

Type: Tooth-Rotting Fluff

Scenario: You've been pondering which last name suits Megumi, and he convinces you why its Fushiguro.

GN! Reader (You/your)

A/N: Latest JJK chapters have me fucked up, but I am so gonna write some Angst on it. Anyway, I wrote this self-indulgent piece because it was my birthday yesterday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fushiguro Or Zen’in? Zen’in or Fushiguro?” You pondered the two last names, writing both of them  on the blank notepad page in front of you, even though you were deep in thought--it was very easy to see which one you were biased towards. 

Megumi was your boyfriend and since he went currently by Fushiguro because of his dead father, you were definitely leaning towards his recent last name. 

The Zen’in clan were not a clan you would want to be associated with no matter what, they were a bunch of misogynistic, sexist, detestable bastards whose ideals and traditions ran deep in their prodigious bloodline--at least the men were. Females were not even a footnote to be considered anything other than the bearers of their heirs.

You suppose you were glad Megumi grew up away from the influence of the Zen’in clan, not that he would have turned out like any of them either way. 

“Megumi Fushiguro; Megumi Zen’in?” You chewed on the end of the pencil. 

Why was it so hard to figure out the obvious?

Well, despite being biased towards Megumi--you were also very fond and biased towards one of his aunts, Maki--who did have the last name with none of the privileges or loyalties to the title. 

Maki still kept her last name, a sort of proof to those bastards when one day she would become a great sorcerer without their influences, and you were inspired by that. You wouldn’t want their last name but you did consider the possibilities. 

While laying on your bed, you thought of how different Megumi was compared to them. They would never be as kind to you, regardless of your family lineage or cursed energy and technique.

“Megumi Zen’in and (Name) Zen’in. Megumi Fushiguro and (Name) Fushiguro,” the latter was said with a bit of a giggle in your tone, after you wrote the latter down--you couldn’t help but chuckle and kick your feet. 

“What are you doing? Reading something?” Megumi gave you an amused look. 

You rolled your eyes at him and patted the bed beside you, he took the hint and sat next to you with his legs swinging off the edge of the bed. 

“I was thinking about your last name. Even though you have two, I was considering which one better suited you. The answer is obvious but then I fucking got caught up trying to think about it again!” You explained and he looked at your notes. 

He sighed, “Well, I am a Zen’in in blood, but I don’t want shit to do with them. Thanks to my dad, I’m now Fushiguro. Simple as that!” He clearly did not understand your dilemma.

“That still doesn’t help me, dumbass!” 

“What do you mean?”

“Which one would suit you better?” 

“I thought you already said Fushiguro sounded better?”

Your back and forth made you groan aloud before tossing your book and pen next to you, the fact that you’d have to explain it to him was worse. 

He seemed to sense your disappointment for not resolving the issue, Megumi took your hand and lifted it to his lips, “I don’t care if I’m a Zen’in, if I had gone through with a life they lived I would never have met you, I don’t think I could live with that. Besides, you told you love me as Fushiguro and if that’s the case, fuck the Zen’in clan and my bloodline! And even if you love me as Zen’in, I’d still want you to be happy regardless.” He finished with a small kiss to the back of your hand and gazed down at you. 

Damn him. 

Why did he have to have such a way with words when helping you get over something?

You sighed and grinned, “Okay then, just so you know, the whole debate was because I was trying to figure out if Fushiguro or Zen’in would better suit me.”

He blushed and tensed up a bit, “W-what do you mean by that?!”

You shrugged and started doodling on your page, “I mean, you don’t care but you prefer Fushiguro and so do I, so I’ll gladly take Fushiguro as my last name,” you were being nonchalant but eyeing him from the corner of your eye, he was blushing very much after finally knowing what you were implying. 

“You mean it? You’d take Fushiguro as your last name when we get married?” He was excited now, you could hear it in his tone--you decided to tease him, “Whoa buster! We barely graduated yet, one hurdle at a time!”  You caught his deflated shoulders.

You nudged him, “Of course I would take Fushiguro as my last name, or you could take mine,” It was half a joke but he looked like he was extremely considering the latter, which shocked you a bit. 

Which lead to you turning over the page, Megumi took the pen and started doodling himself, you looked over to see but he shifted on the bed. You rolled over onto your back to watch him hover above you, his left hand sliding up your arm to intertwine your fingers. 

“Even though I would gladly take your last name, I always thought Fushiguro better suited you,” With those words he leaned down and claimed your lips before you could answer positively, when you stopped kissing him you read what he wrote on the paper. It read: (Name) Fushiguro, and had a circle drawn around it, you chuckled. 

How possessive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[b0nten]

THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE STOPS AT DAWN AND SPINS BACK TO HOLD THE DEVIL

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ being one of five special grades, you learn how to deal with exorcisms, but rarely with loss.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ i was kinda skeptical to post this because i don’t rlly write for jjk but i had this planned out (sloppily) in my notes for so long. i would like to thank @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for inspiring me through their fic if i fell through the floor i’d keep falling to post this (i know we’ve never interacted before so i’m literally so sorry if this comes off as random & makes you uncomfortable) because a) of how much i love that fic and b) of how it reminded me of this and actually motivated me to finish and polish it. also big thanks to my shawtybae ray @httpshujii whom i left traumatized after i asked her to beta-read this fic😭😭

[EXTRAS] ˚⁀➷｡ timeline is probably WAAAAAAAAAY off, especially the shibuya incident/culling game. swearing, a lot of words.

24.12.2017

“you two can’t even tell good and evil apart.”

“doesn’t that guy piss you off, mimiko?”

“nanako, want me to hang him?” the brunette holds her rope tight around the dummy’s neck.

her sister, annoyed by the assistant’s words, hisses. “you guys don’t even know how sorcerers like us are treated in the shitty countryside that doesn’t show up on maps. you do all the good and evil you want. but for us, if geto-sama says so, then black is white and white is black. we believe in the world he sees; and we will hang everybody who gets in the way!” she threatens and they both take their combat positions, ready to strike when, suddenly, footsteps echo through the empty alleyway.

“cut it out, you three.” wind blows though silky hair and a perfume they all recognize takes over the air as all of their faces drop. “don’t bother, ijichi, they’re just as stubborn as their dad.” a smile glides across your lips, but disappears just a few moments later. “ew, my pants are stained with curse juice.”

“mom?” “y/n-san?” they gasp at the same time, and ijichi’s head turns back so fast you could swear you heard his neck snap.

“ ‘mom’ ? y/n-san, what’s going on?” he asks, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“that’s a long story i’ll tell you only if you promise not to snitch to the higher-ups.” you grin at him, patting him on his shoulder as you pass by. “don’t worry, i’m not switching sides.” you reassure, and hear him sigh in relief.

with the speed of light, the twins rush towards you, embracing you in a warm hug.

“miko, please don’t hang my friend, yeah? and you, young lady, what did we talk about, try to be a little less hostile!” you scold, ruffling their hair a little rougher than usual. then, a crash startles all four of you.

“miguel? what the hell are you doing!” the light-brunette shouts, rolling her eyes once the man’s ironic response reacher her ears.

“ugh, ” you can only do the same, brows furrowing when another familiar face pops up, “satoru, pipe down! and pleaaaaase try to not kill him!” you shout to grab gojo’s attention, dragging out the plead.

“when you ask me so nicely, i guess i can make an exception for you, bestie boo!” he shrugs, winking with his only uncovered eye.

ignoring the antics that you’re so used to, your attention falls back on the girls.

“you two, ” you start, clapping your hands closed and dragging your right hand as to conjure a katana. then, you scrape a circle with it in the cobblestone, “i’ll teleport you somewhere safe, i don’t like where this is going, and i gotta clean up some of the curses suguru let loose around here. be careful, i love you.” you wave as a big fire sphere rushes up from the ground, building a barrier between you. before the girls can say anything else, they disappear completely. “ijichi, text me the date and time and i’ll be there. gotta get to kusakabe as soon as i can or he may need to get his diaper changed.”

you laugh, dissipating into a puddle of black, while your underclassman still can’t believe what he’s witnessed.

15.10.2008

you know that what you’re about to do is rash and irrational, and possibly clearly also considered treachery in the jujutsu world. the fact that nobody had already caught wind of what you were up to was and still is in itself a miracle, but you could narrow it down to them thinking you were still grieving; and truth be told, you still kind of were, trying to do it the best you could. healing fresh wounds is never easy and recovering from a break-up that didn’t directly happen is sometimes like trying to sew shut a deep wound with cotton thread.

and that’s what kept you going in the most excruciating year of your life: your wounds deserve to close properly, and it is within your right to be able to run your fingers across your skin, without fearing they’ll plunge deep into your chest and dreading to take them out knowing they’ll be covered in blood and the smell of a broken heart.

so you step, determined and furious to get your cause across. you bang your fists on the big door, and a chubby man of middle age greets you at the entrance.

“what’s your name? do you have an appointment?” he questions, and you answer with the same western bullshit name you gave when you rang them up to book said ‘appointment’. he turns a few pages in his clipboard and finally his face lights up.

“yes, please, come in!” his arm is stretched out in a gentlemanly manner, signaling for you to enter. and you do, something bubbling in the pit of your stomach. excitement? no, that’s almost impossible. hate? hurt? the wish for vengeance you have so obsessively dreamed about? you’re not sure about any of those. when you step into the room, though, you feel nervous. like you’re walking on the thin glass shards of your broken youth — the one that got spat and shat on by the same world that made geto spiral into his madness — stolen mercilessly by the greediness of the higher-ups.

“geto-sama will come in shortly!” he explains, and you gather all your composure to ensure you won’t vomit right then and there.

“he calls himself geto-sama now?” you wonder, and although you haven’t said it out loud, the title still leaves a bitter feeling on your tongue. you imagine maybe that’s what curses taste like to suguru.

“welcome, miss— oh.“ full of confidence he struts from behind two curtains, and when he sees you, his gaze softens and you swear you can catch a glimpse of the boy you lost an autumn ago. “it’s so nice to see you, y/n!” he calls out and picks up his pace, almost rushing to you. “i’m so glad it’s not one of those monkeys! sometimes i get nauseous from seeing them all the time!” he face-palms, then beams, and takes your hands in his, leaving a kiss on your temple, lastly pulling you close to him like he always did, even before he vanished.

you think you’re going to be sick again, watching him act all nonchalant and normal, as if nothing has happened. “how dare he?” you think, feeling the anger pierce your stomach walls, and settling in your throat. how can he act like this? like you’re still high-school sweethearts, like he’s just come back from a mission and you’re standing at the school gates, ready to welcome him back. your brain almost freezes, heart urging you to stay like that, but mind screaming at you to pull away from him.

so, against your heart’s wishes, you tear away from him. “monkeys? that’s what you call them now, suguru?” you click your tongue in annoyance, a habit he knows you have whenever you’re about to get petty. “what happened to civilians, non-sorcerers, humans, people?” you ask, blank face staring daggers into his soul.

“my love, they’re all just monkeys.” your once-lover says with the same nonchalance, “don’t bother being all so formal with them. they can’t even use jujutsu, like we do, so—“ before he can say anything else, you cut him off, something similar to a mix of anger and sadness in your voice.

“don’t call me that, suguru.” your voice cracks a little, eyebrows furrow and your heartbeat picks up its pace, and you think maybe your legs are going to give out on you any minute now. “i’m not here to play happy family reuinted.” you almost choke on your words. “i—”

“geto-sama!!! geto-sama!!!” a panicked, feminine voice comes from behind the curtains, and soon enough, two young girls emerge from them. one has light brown hair, the other’s is a little darker than shoko’s. they can’t be older than 6, 5 if you dare to overthink. the former is dragging her sister by her hand, and the latter is holding a plushy tight against her chest, stumbling here and there.

“what’s wrong, you two?” he asks gently, crouching down to their level. you remember how he used to speak to you the same whenever you came back from a mission sad or displeased and your heart drops at how easy it is to break down your walls and have memories growing like ice flowers in the archives you vouched to burn off your mind.

“mimiko—“ her gaze averts to you and ricochets into the ground, small figure balancing from foot to foot as she apologizes, “oh, i’m sorry for interrupting.”

when you look at them, you can’t help but smile. they look so… sweet. so innocent. what are they doing here? “that’s alright, you don’t have to pardon yourself, it seemed urgent.” with a motherly sympathy you didn’t know you held within you, you explain. with the corner of your eye, you see a smile bloom on geto’s face.

“ohmygod!” the same one calls out to her sister in a not-so-subtle whisper. “that’s the lady whose picture geto-sama has! the one he told us about!”

“nanako… you can’t say that when she’s in front of us… it’s rude.” mimiko half-heartedly scolds her sister.

you can’t help the blush from creeping up your cheeks or the laugh from escaping your lips.

“y/n, these are nanako and mimiko.” suguru explains and nudges them forward. “girls, this is y/n, but you already knew.” he smiles again, abstaining himself from laughing at his own semi-bad joke. “they’re…” he continues. “they’re my epiphany, the reason i left the useless jujutsu world and started to make my own.”

you try to ignore the last part of his introduction and his sickeningly smug grin, and you crouch down too, in order to observe them from closer proximity. “nice to meet you both.” you say, warmly, and touch the floor with your hand. a puddle of black forms around it and you awkwardly rummage through the void. soon enough, you pull out two candy-bars.

“i hope you two like macadamia nuts and chocolate. unfortunately it’s all i have right now.” you apologize with a sheepish smile, handing them the sweets. they look at geto to seek approval, and when he nods enthusiastically, they accept your gift with lots of giggles and bright grins.

suguru’s heart skips a beat before it melts. he really is touched you’re showing his daughters so much kindness, but he’s even happier he sees the same candy-bars you ate in high school. he feel nostalgic, even though he knows it’s only been a year. but just like in his case, he thought a year might have been significant change for you too.

the tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the door. “geto-sama, i’m terribly sorry to disturb, but your next appointment is here.” an assistant calls out, and geto is visibly annoyed.

“tell them to wait for a little bit. we’re still not ready to wrap up.” he commands, outside going silent instantly. “i am so sorry to cut this short, y/n.” he says, admitting regret, “you are welcome to drop by any time you want. and you don’t have to use a fake name.” he’s hopeful now, he’s even more confident, and he steps closer to you.

but as if you two are magnets of the same polarity, your body forces you to take a step back. his gaze saddens and something like despair flashes briefly across his face. it almost reads like “please come by again. please.” almost like a desperate plead.

“i’ll see.” is the only response you can give before turning around and heading to the door. before you open it, you look back at the three of them. “nanako, mimiko, it was nice to meet you.” you say, softness for the two canceling out whatever uncomfortable feelings you had before.

“you too, y/n-sama! please come by again!” they both say back, waving as you leave the room. a peculiar tickle renders your body almost perplexed when you hear the honorific.

you navigate through the temple like you’re trying to find the exit of a maze, but when you’re outside, you take a deep breath of fresh air. your hand travels up to wipe the shells of the tears forming in your eyes and you swear you can smell the blood that’s gushing from your still unclosed wounds, sewn again with cotton thread.

“they’re my epiphany.”

they’re his epiphany.

you replay the scene in your head, and feel desperate the more you chant the mantra, as if your ego has not only been broken, but sanity stripped away from you. then, your thoughts are broken by your phone ringing. flipping up the cover, you try to play everything off as normal.

“shoko?” you say, “is everything alright?”

“i should be the one asking you that.” her tone is sharp, “is everything alright with you, y/n?” it softens, and like a dam about to break lose, you sniffle and answer out.

“no.” it’s clear, it’s there, you said it. you don’t have to pretend.

“come over. i miss having my girl around.” she says, and you giggle.

“you’re lucky i’m in the area. i’ll be there in fifteen, girlfriend. and stop talking to me like im one of your hoes.”

she just laughs manically before ending the call. you smile, and go.

10.04.2009

you don’t know for sure if whatever you feel against nanako and mimiko is compassion or pity. or maybe hatred, sometimes disguised as jealousy. but ever since geto said that, there is this little voice in the back of your head that keeps playing the same sentence, like your mind’s a broken record.

“he chose them over you.”

“he chose them over you.”

“he chose them over you.”

“he chose them over you.”

“he chose them over you.”

you’re not sure how to feel. they’re kids. they’re young, they didn’t coax him into starting this. maybe they were just caught in the crossfire, you like to guess. maybe they were the last straw.

or maybe, you were simply not good enough, which, in all honesty, was hard to accept. being a special-grade sorcerer that came from nothing isn’t easy. someone’s always on your back, refusing to get off; from the higher-ups to one’s parents. it’s hard to live up to pre-made expectations, and carry burdens on an already-cracked spine, but you’ve always been strong — so strong even gojo pissed his pants sometimes — so what happened? what made him resort to this?

finally, after looking through the things he left behind in his room, you came to understand geto didn’t leave because he wanted to, he left because that was what it came to. and slowly, you accepted that the twins really were nothing more than two girls caught in a crossfire, that geto somehow saved. his last mission, it must’ve been excruciating, he must’ve seen hell in its true form (again) or death itself in front of him (for the third time) when he went to that village and slaughtered it mercilessly.

that was actually the case, as you come to learn. after six months you build up the courage to visit again, this time unannounced, this time without a purpose. you were sure it’d be left unserved anyway, like the last one. so, when suguru welcomes you into the room once more, you make small talk. and ask about his life, sometimes trying not to gag when he makes disgusting remarks about “monkeys”.

and voluntarily, he tells you the girls’ story after they fall asleep on your lap, dead exhausted thanks to the running around they did. you learn their past, and see something ignite in suguru that makes you think. if you had been there, would you have done the same? would you have stopped him, or joined him? he did nothing wrong, he killed abusers. he killed people that beat two defenseless children, something he shouldn’t have been persecuted for, you thought. this whole monkey thing, tough, something else, another story. but maybe, just maybe had somebody heard him out, he wouldn’t be staying across from you dressed in robes but instead you would’ve been sitting in an apartment you bought with all the money you saved up, all four of you cradled next to the other watching tv with the volume off as to not wake up the sleeping girls. and maybe, just maybe, satoru would have found the fushiguro-zen’in boy and his sister that he’s so serious on finding and they’d come over and play together, while you, shoko and sometimes utahime and mei gossip on the couch and suguru, satoru, nanami and ijichi hang out in the kitchen.

if it weren’t for your teenage heart and forgiving soul, you wouldn’t have begged geto to consider your idea.

“i can try and negotiate a deal for you.” you’re serious, and not about to give up, no matter what he says. “i’ve been taking extra missions, suguru. they like me, they started to value my opinion in the last two years.” you say, and your eyes gloss over when you look at him.

“y/n…” he sighs. “this is my choice. i’m content living like this.”

you break a little.

“don’t say that suguru. it’s not too late, you know? i can vouch for you, i can make sure nanako and mimiko are safe, if that’s what you’re actually concerned about. i will take extra shifts, i will fight for you.” you start to crack and chip off at the edges. “in the end, you did nothing wrong killing those villagers, but that’s something they’re just gonna look away from because you killed non-sorcerers. hateful, filthy, non-sorcerers that deserved their fate.” you say, gritting and swearing behind teeth, jaw clenched and breathing like your lungs are glued together.

suguru always liked your sense of justice. it was always strong, defined, your moral compass was as clear as the sky on the first day you were transferred to jujutsu high. it was refreshing to see someone like you, that fought, no matter what; that gave herself up for the cause she wanted to prove. you would’ve killed yourself if it meant judgement had been served correctly, and even if it meant losing yourself on the way, you loved standing up for what was right. you’d tear at yourself so everybody could be happy. and he could see it in your eyes, the way they shine with the beauty of a thousand galaxies and the passion of a hundred suns, radiating hope, even after all that you’ve been through. you’re hope, you’re love, you’re light, ready to sacrifice herself just so others could grasp that spark even for a little while. ah, as long as…, like you said in your heydays, cigarette between teeth as geto lit it for you, shoko boo’d in the background and satoru annoyed nanami but entranced haibara, holding the world in your hands, ready to blast another wall, to save another soul, to make another life-source. you were temperance and the tower all in one, the embodiment of balanced destruction, the origin of damaged harmony. you ate, chewed and spit yourself out so everyone could see that you were raw — you were like them — you were all the same, kids with power and jobs too big for ages that didn’t even bloom correctly yet.

but this time, he can’t let you do that. you can’t be his divine intervention anymore, you can’t make a catastrophe of your life just to build his anew. he had chosen his way the day he committed mass murder, roots of his goal planted deep inside his hatred for non-sorcerers, and it was far too late to go back, no matter what you said or could have said or say, his life is now with his cult. and he looks at you, with his girls cradled in your lap and wonders of the life you could have had, had amanai’s death not taken such a toll on him. he never told you, but he wanted you to meet her. she would’ve absolutely adored you, no doubt, and vice-versa.

sometimes he wakes up in the morning and you’re not next to him and then he imagines it too: a little house in meguro, and he’d wake up at the crack of dawn and look at you sleeping peacefully beside him, then he’d get up and cook breakfast. he envisions evening walks in spring, when the cherry blossoms bloom, and nanako and mimiko running wildly along the river banks, and you shouting after them to be careful. his heart swells with what if’s and maybe’s but he remembers that in his world, he can achieve that. and he doesn’t have to worry about any of you three being in danger either.

you feel the need to change the topic. you feel the regret floating around in the air — you feel the wound you tried to sew shut so many times miserably — and it reeks of fresh blood and sweet tea and plum blossoms and the winter he confessed his feelings.

“let me help you get them to bed.” you smile, and he reciprocates. he takes nanako from your lap softly as not to disturb her sleep, and guides you to their room.

you find yourself kissing their foreheads as if they’re your daughters, as if you hadn’t met them only two times in your life, and suguru finds himself too close to you. you think he’s too close to you too, but right now, in this shit you’ve dragged yourself into, you don’t care at all anymore.

so you kiss him, you lift yourself up on your toes enough for him to already know what you’re doing and to bend down. electricity sparks and you see yourself in the middle of snowy shibuya crossing yet again, people going on about their day while you pour your hearts out to the other silently, carnally, with chapped lips falling against each other, devouring the curse of love with gluttony, and freezing hands tangled in the intimacy of two sixteen year olds dumb enough to think they’re able to write their own destiny.

that’s why you continue to visit. in the rest of 2009, 2010, 2011, and so on. between what you lost that you never even had, and the brief moment of serenity of feeling like a family with geto and the girls, you finally feel like you have something to live for.

it goes without saying that it still frightened you — if anyone were to find out where you were going, who you were going to — they all may have been put in danger. but the moment the big, wooden door to the temple opens and two smiley faces jump into your arms while the boyfriend you never had the guts to break up with greets you sweetly, all the worry dissipates. you were not there “to play happy family reunited”, you had found a family. and as twisted life had layed itself out for geto, maybe yours wasn’t that far from it either.

so, once a month you come, with gifts, with candy, with love and worry and whatnot. you’re there to see the twins grow up, sometimes you help suguru cut their hair, to navigate through all the stages of girlhood you experienced too — well, almost all, since it’s kind of hard to give them really everything when their dad is a wanted mass murderer in a world over half of the population doesn’t even know exists. but you’re there, and you’re happy when you’re with them. they’re your sun.

and it goes like that for years, you come, you laugh, and you leave. sometimes before you leave, geto kisses you chastely, and sometimes more, which means you stay the night, and he partially sees his dream come true the next morining; and he loves it, he can’t wait to get it done, but he feels guilty. guilty for the plan he’s come up with and guilty knowing you’re gonna be on the opposite side, no matter what.

when the girls turn eight, they start calling you ‘mom’, to your and geto’s surprise. but they like it, and honestly, so do you and so does their dad. it’s random, but it feels natural, it feels warm. suguru’s heart sinks, and he thinks he can keep his plan hidden and pushes it back a few more years, until he can’t anymore. so, on the twins’ eleventh birthday, a beautiful day of 2013, it’s the last time you come. you try to talk him out of it, but no matter how many pleads and promises and compromises, his decision is still the one he told you. that day, when you leave and look back with a fake smile at the kids waving at you from the door, the wind feels sharper on your face and the air is definitely colder than what it was supposed to ever be. you go to the bar and drown out your sorrows, glass after glass after glass after glass after glass until you’re numb. and even in the numbness, there’s still an aching pain, like a scorching dagger has been stabbed through your heart, burning the skin and muscle and everything in between on its way to bring you down. you wonder if that’s what curses feel when they’re exorcised.

so, while nanako and mimiko ask about you and why their mom isn’t coming anymore, you bury yoursef in work. you kill, you start to teach, you do paperwork. satoru comes over sometimes and when you look at him, you can only cry. shoko comes over more than sometimes, and when you look at her you can also only cry. they both hug you and sometimes cry with you too: a pity party. nanami writes to you a lot, and when you read his messages you also cry. sometimes you go to visit him, and he looks at you with a disgusting look. he knows you haven’t broken records these past few months because of your love for jujutsu, but because of the hate you bear for it. his heart shatters seeing his senior like this. so, he pours you tea and gets you the cookies you always loved, stashed next to a framed picture of you three — you, him and haibara.

kento always thought you were like glue. you kept everyone together. and although him and yu were only your juniors, you made them feel like they were your brothers. you brought together the jujutsu world so closely, you made it seem like it could work, until nobody was there to help you, even though you tried so hard. it was like a mirage, but so closely and delicately conjured one could swear it was real — maybe that was your true domain expansion — and you would’ve killed yourself if that meant it’d be kept intact, and you kind of did, because at the price of your own well-being, you took care of the others. you worked overtime so gojo had less missions to go on, helped nanami get out of jujutsu and welcomed him right back with open arms and broken heart that still needed mending desperately, and helped shoko with med school until she decided she’d just cheat herself into getting her eligibility.

and you’re a wreck, so you browse pictures in your phone of you, suguru and the girls, you frame them but keep them away from the world’s eyes, god knows who may find them and put you on death-row too. you look at them and feel like you’re mourning geto a second time around, but this time you’re also mourning.. your kids. the kids who called you mom, who sometimes called you up at night when they had some “girl problems” they couldn’t tell suguru right off the bat, the girls that asked you to sew their ripped clothes, and who watched you and geto do that side by side.

you didn’t understand how suguru came to that conclusion, to push you away for good. you never tried to erase his ideology from the girls’ minds, you simply mothered them. you loved them, trained them, you loved him, so what was up with him?

geto feels miserable too. he lost you once, and now he’s lost you twice. he’s rougher with his monkeys, he feels like he’s mourning once again too. and when he looks at nanako and mimiko he cannot stop his heart from ripping apart. they look at pictures of you. every single day, there’s not one that passes when he doesn’t want to call you and tell you to come back. to be the glue, to love him and his daughters, to make them laugh and jump and smile and make him feel warm and fuzzy inside all again. for the first time in his life, he has doubts about his dream world, because when he looks at the once so cheerful duo, sad while holding your picture, and when he remembers the tears in your eyes and how you wiped them away quickly when they came to hug you goodbye, he wants to kill himself like you always did for your cause. he wants to make the devil chew him and spit him out for forgetting you are just like him too — flesh, bones, and misery.

so, for once in his new life, geto does something he never thought he would do — he compromises. exactly 364 days after he forbids you from coming by again, he tells the twins they can go out in the world and enjoy their life. maybe they’ll go looking after you, he thinks, he hopes, and he sees their faces light up and they see his do the same. “but don’t talk to monkeys when it’s not necessary!” he orders, no, he asks. he can’t order his children around.

and mimiko and nanako go out in the world, alone, for the first time, the following day. geto asks them to buy any cake they want, to celebrate for when they come back. so they head to the bakery that breached the barriers of what they knew, once every thirty days: they mostly knew the universe geto had created for them, and once a month came clashing down an asteroid, with flowers, sweets and everything the cult didn’t really have, their mother.

so, after almost getting lost thrice on the metro, when they enter the minimalist store they searched on google maps because they kept a cardboard box of sweets you once brought over, and see your tired figure, tears in your eyes as you mouth and explain the kanji of their name to the lady with the piping bag in her hand, their eyes swell and they can only weakly sob “mom..?”, unsure if it’s actually you or a mirage.

when your head snaps in the direction of the door and you see the two kids you missed so badly in a year, you stare at them blankly. you’re afraid to get close to them, thinking maybe they’re just a shadow created by the months of exhaustion, but when mimiko asks if you remember them, you break down crying, embracing them while they weep on your shoulder too. “how could i not?” you stifle between sniffles and feel them hug you even tighter. it’s almost like movie scene, and even the cashier is on the verge of tears.

when you pull away, you’re all red-eyed and stuffy-nosed, hair a mess and hearts clammy. “let me pay for the cake first, and we can go to my place, yes?” you say and they both nod like they did when you weren’t quite as closely acquainted yet.

“we also have to buy a cake..” nanako says, “could you help us?”

you don’t hesitate and pull them to the refrigerator to chose. “what was the one you always bought?” mimiko asks, heart thumping in her chest. “well, it’s the one i have over there, but they’re actually order-only.” you say, eyeing the cake, sad. the twins bite their lips and scan whatever’s left in the display window.

“excuse me,” the lady jumps in, trying to regain composure too “we have cupcakes with that same filling, if it’s any better!” she says, “and they’re 20 percent off if you buy more than 10! and 50 for more than twenty!”

“then we’d like 24 of them, please.” you say, twins’ faces dropping.

“24? isn’t that too much?” nanako chokes out, and her sister giggles a bit at her expression.

“not at all, no, no!” you reassure, patting their heads. “and don’t even dare to pay me back.” you half-heartedly threaten when the other one reaches into her pocket to take out her wallet. “put it back, miko.”

and so, you get to patch up your heart a little bit. you buy them candles, and they blow them on the cupcakes, and take pictures and laugh about whatever.

and it was like this a lot, because whenever they came over to yours they begged you to tell them about your teenage years and show them everything you did. and, because you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away the years of beauty you had documented on film and paper, you showed them everything, accompanied by cups of tea from porcelain haibara bought you from missions he went on, and cakes and biscuits and all the snacks they asked for (thank god you always kept some stashed for satoru).

pictures of you, satoru, suguru, shoko, nanami, haibara, mei and utahime. they were all there — immortal in the plastic of the polaroids and untouchable in the albums — and no one could steal away those precious moments. you showed them pictures of every kind, going on missions and late night hang-outs in your dorms, they gasped at the sight of geto smoking and laughed at the hairstyles you did on him. in the span of weeks and months of two years, you showed them the person you had fallen in love with, and the friends that welcomed you with open arms in tokyo.

of course they were especially keen on pictures of you and geto, fangirling over the “couple pictures”, the ones shoko took of you both when you weren’t watching and later on gave to you. you showed them satoru’s first hangover, and how their dad held his hair back as he was vomiting his hollow purple into the toilet, and the selfie you and shoko took, a little less hungover, leaning against the stalls.

you showed them videos of you all rehearsing your techniques and geto protecting nanami from gojo’s annoying teenage ass.

you took them to disneyland and rode with them on all the rollercoasters they wanted, and took so many photos you bought nanako a picture-only phone. each of you hung them up in your homes, and sometimes suguru stumbled upon the girls’ pictures when he went into their room, and cried over your portrait upon seeing you in a winnie the pooh headband almost identical to the one he wore when he first took you there in high school.

and although, physically, it weren’t four of you gathered around the table anymore, you still laughed together and you felt free, until 2017 came along.

it was maybe early november when you got the call from satoru, away on business in sapporo. it sounded urgent, and first and foremost, he sounded scared. not frightened, but rather desperate, like he didn’t know what to do. therefore, on your first day back in tokyo, you went to see him.

“just rip the bandaid off, satoru.” you say, gently.

“geto has declared war on us.”

you’re left dumbfounded, tea cup shaking in your hand. you can only blink, awaiting gojo to say more. to give you more information.

“he came by the day i called you. said he’d unleash a thousand curses in kyoto and shinjuku on christmas eve. wanted yuta to join him and belittled maki.”

you put down your cup, head resting in your palms. it feels like a bad dream. you knew what to expect of him, that sooner or later he’d act on his crazy dreams of a non-sorcerer free world, but hoped it would be a lot later than this.

“was he alone?” you ask, gojo’s face making a funny look.

“no, two girls that wanted to eat crepes on takeshita and a shirtless guy.” he explains, “why do you ask?”

this time, you lie to him. you can’t let him know you’ve committed treachery for almost a decade now. “then we should also expect some counter-attack from them, not just some curses running loose.” you explain, and gojo nods approvingly.

“you’re right. we should be careful then, especially with the managers.” he says, and you only bob your head a ‘yes’. “y/n” his voice softens, and round shades peel from his face, “don’t do this to yourself.” he crouches down next to you, hand caressing your shoulder. when he feels your muscles tense, he welcomes you with open arms and you cry on his shoulder for a good ten minutes. when he feels you’ve calmed down, he unlocks his phone and dials a number. it doesn’t ring for long, and he speaks, “hey, emo girl. come over. we’re having a reunion.” he laughs, “y/n’s sad, so you do the maths on how manny bottles you bring.” he says, regretting instantly. “wait, don’t you think five is too much, shoko? hello? shoko? agh, fuck you, girl.” you laugh, and so does he, stroking your back once more. “everything’s gonna be okay, babygirl.”

“dont you ever call me that again.”

the next day, you wake up with your phone blowing up, next to shoko, in gojo’s bed. “answer the fucking phone already.” she groans, and you do, but not before kicking her side.

“yes?” without even looking at the caller id you speak, head spinning from all the alcohol (two bottles and a half, each) and voice hoarse from the packs of cigarettes each one of you smoked the previous night. (three, each.) there goes shoko’s quitting.

“mom? you’re not answering the door, are you okay?” nanako speaks from the other side and you instantly jump out of bed, startling your friend.

“i’ll be there in… fifteen. please wait.” you say and hang up after hearing a positive answer.

you dart from the apartment, hugging gojo on your way out, explaining something came up.

you drive through the city with the speed of light, getting home not just in time, but seven minutes early, and the twins hug you when you see them. when they sit you down on the couch to tell you something, your heart sinks, because you can already feel what it is.

“geto-sama declared war on the college last week.” the fawn haired admits, and the other just looks down at the ground.

“i know.” is all you say, trying to hold back tears.

“we’re really sorry. and if you don’t want to see us again, it’s alright, we, we get it.“ mimiko says, words pulled out of her mouth with prongs, almost unable to finish her sentence.

“don’t you ever think something like that.” you snap, dam breaking behind your eyes. “i saw you all this time despite not agreeing with suguru’s ideology, but you’re still my kids too, you know? i have also done some parenting these last ten years.”

it’s bittersweet, and they feel it too, and they cry too, because from being rescued by suguru to seeing the stranger lady walk into their temple every month and showing them the kindness only geto ever did, you became their mother. you stuck by them, always looking over your shoulder whenever you visited them and taking extra precautions whenever they visited you. you were their asteroid, you were their world, and although geto hurt you, not once, but twice, you still loved him and them like you were there when he saved them.

and they always saw the broken youth and undreamt dreams that hid behind your eyes, so motherly, so tender and reassuring albeit living no better than a fugitive. their lives were less stressful than yours, because you sacrificed yourself to come see them. maybe out of fear of losing geto yet again, or denial, but whatever you may have feared, you always put your little beautifully broken and beloved family above all else, bravely so.

“just promise me you’ll both be careful.” is all you say before they collapse in your arms. and you stand there, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes and the blood of the wound you thought closed up.

“we will, no matter what.”

24.12.2017

you walk into jujutsu high and can’t believe your eyes. you’re tired from killing curses and giving kusakabe a pep-talk every ten minutes, but you don’t think this is all in your mind: smashed cobblestone, holes in the ground. and blood, lots of blood.

you run into the infirmary, shoko’s door flying open as she lets out a half-scream.

“what’s your problem?” she asks, partly annoyed.

“i’m sorry for worrying about my students after i babysat a grown man all day.” you reply, and she laughs, “atsuya again, huh? too bad he’s actually talented, that crybaby persona gets too much somtimes. they’re all safe, yuta used rct on them, but gojo wants to talk to you.” she says.

“is he in the common lobby?” you ask, and she nods approvingly.

when you enter the room, you feel a chill creep up your spine. satoru is still, way too still.

“y/n.”

“satoru.”

he gulps down saliva before asking you the question. “did suguru have daughters?” he says, and you answer, mindless.

“yeah, he has tw—“ then it dawns on you. “satoru?” he sees it too. in the small crack of your voice, some glass shards hitting the linoleum. “satoru, don’t tell me,” you’re on the verge of tears. your throat is dry, stomach doing flips. “oh my god.” you gasp, legs turning into sand, and he rushes to catch you.

“he told me to take care of the three of you, and i didn’t understand and i thought about the crepe girls and then you of course and.. you and.. i… i’m sorry, y/n. i didn’t want it to end like this.” he spits out word after word, boulder rolling off his shoulder, letting himself cry in your embrace.

“no one did, satoru. i’m never gonna blame you for his death, yeah?” your eyes start to water too. he’s still the boy that lost his best friend, you’re still the girl that lost her boyfriend, shoko is still the one that lost a best friend, and you’re all three still teenagers, waiting for someone to guide you through the loss.

you stand like that for a while, until you both calm down.

“thank you.” gojo satoru, the strongest, smiles through tears he’d only ever shown a handful of people.

“thank you, boywonder.” you smile through tears you’d only ever shown a handful of people.

“i have to talk to yaga.” he runs a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily before hugging you goodbye.

you sit down in your chair and watch the sun set. through the window, maki, yuta, panda and inumaki wave at you. you reciprocate, thankful they’re still alive, when all of a sudden your phone rings.

“mom?” the moment you answer, mimiko’s voice cracks on the other end. she usually isn’t one to call, so you’re guessing you know what this is about.

“i’m coming.” you say between your own small shallow breaths, waving the students goodbye through the window once again. you make another quick phone call before leaving campus.

“yes?”

“megumi, gojo’s had a rough day and i can’t spend time with him tonight. shoko also has to do overtime at the morgue. can you keep him company for a bit?”

he sighs. “yeah, i will.”

“thank you.”

“sensei… take care. you’re a great sorcerer…and a great person. just felt like you needed to hear that.”

“thank you, megumi. you too, kiddo.”

31.10.2018

“you know this was reckless, yeah?”

“we’re sorry for keeping you in the dark so long. it’s just — we knew you would’ve stopped us if we told you kenjaku took over geto-sama’s body, and we really want him to have a proper burial.” the brunette clutches her phone to her chest, eyes fixed on the ground.

“we didn’t mean to keep you in the dark so long, but you were already grieving geto-sama for the second time. we didn’t think you’d find out like you did.” mimiko apologizes too, and even though they stand in front of you, apologizing for the biggest mistake they have ever made, you can’t scold them. not when they thought about you, about easing your pain.

“you guys did a stupid thing, that’s all i’m gonna say.” the pause and sigh you take between sentences make them want to burry themselves into the ground, “but i’m not mad, because you did it with good intent.” your voice softens and their gazes come up, meeting your face. “i’m gonna help you, but please wait until i come back.”

their faces lighten as you stroke their hair, stopping when your phone rings.

“ijichi? itadori? alone? shibuya? what’s he doing there? he’s supposed to be in harajuku station with mei ” they read between the words, knowing exactly who this itadori is, “i can’t, i really have enough curses to fight, the meiji-jingu area by itself is packed.” you apologize with gritted teeth and exhausted breath, “i’ll enter the curtain when i’m done, and send you guys some back-up,yeah?”

you look at the twins again, wanting to instinctively crouch down to their level, but they’ve gotten too tall for that. “please, don’t go out. and if you do, be careful, and stay safe. don’t do anything rash.” you say, embracing them both. “i love you two so much.” you hold onto them a bit longer than usual, kissing their cheeks before unlocking the door.

“we love you too.” they say in unison, and smile.

“be careful, yeah? lock the door after i teleport.”

“always.” is the last thing you hear before disappearing.

9.11.2018

“come on, pick up, pick up, pick up…”

you bite your nails in frustration. it’s been a week since the culling game has started, a week since gojo got sealed, since nanami died. since maki got burned. and the biggest act of jujutsu terrorism happened in less than 24 hours under your very noses. a lethal battle royal, where everyone has to kill each other.

it’s been a full week since neither of the twins have contacted you. they don’t respond to their texts either. for mimiko it was normal, she didn’t really use her phone as much as her sister, but when nanako, whose cursed technique is all about using her phone, doesn’t have it, then that’s when you start to worry.

“sensei…” megumi walks up next to you, visibly worried, “who are you looking for? maybe we can help?”

you’ve known megumi ever since gojo found him, and met tsumiki a few times too. you helped gojo train him, something that turned out useful because of your somehow similar cursed techniques: his ten shadows and your use of void space were easy to adapt to the other. you had grown close, especially because of your shared annoyance for his guardian. yet, he never once met your daughters. you would’ve loved to introduce them to each other, mimiko would have been thrilled to have another just as quiet friend of her age and nanako would have loved to bother the two of them. still, you didn’t. you couldn’t, because that would mean explaining to gojo why you have two kids with you and (while still visiting the temple) possibly needing to convince suguru to let you take them out, and even a possible slip-up would’ve meant all hell breaking loose. though sometimes you thought maybe not, since it wasn’t non-sorcerers you were wanting to befriend them with, but it was still too risky. higher-ups had eyes everywhere, and you didn’t want to risk being labeled as foe.

“y/n-sensei, fushiguro’s right!” yuuji chimes in, making you laugh a little bit, “tell us, maybe we’ve seen the person!”

“and once we’re done speaking with master tengen, we can help you search for them.”

“you too, yuki?” you sigh, still spamming the call button.

“that’s tsukumo-senpai to you!” she jokes.

“ugh, someone, take this thing away already! it keeps buzzing way too much!” a hole opens on itadori’s hand, sukuna groaning some curse words and spitting a cell phone out, full of annoyance and disgust.

your heart drops and your mind blurs as you look at it. green, silicone, bunny ears.

“sensei?” yuuta now directs his attention to you too. “sensei, what’s wrong?” he seems worried, and so do the rest of them.

“what’s that?” choso points to the green rectangle on the ground, crouching and flipping it around. they all look at the screen, which reads “mom”.

“that’s a cellphone, choso!” yuki explains.

“that’s — that’s nanako’s cellphone.” you stammer, collapsing to your knees. “yuuji, when— how? this is bad, bad, bad, bad..” you think out loud, voice shakier with every word as you flip the phone from one side to the other. “she-she can’t use her technique without her phone, oh my god. but she’s definitely with mimiko, so maybe they can transfer points to each other, and her combat skills aren’t bad at all, maybe.. ”

“y/n-sensei, i don’t know how that got there.” itadori speaks, almost ashamed.

“i do!” another orifice opens on his hand, grinning. “i killed them.”

everybody’s in shock, you gasp, phone falling on the floor as both your hands cover your mouth.

“the dark haired’s head i blew off, the other’s i sliced.” the curse continues.

“itadori, please make that thing shut up.” maki orders harshly, expression softening when her gaze falls back on you.

“sukuna, this is not the time for jokes.” itadori intervenes.

“i’m not joking. they tried to boss me around, telling me they’ll give me another finger if i kill kenjaku. some brats, trying to command the king of curses around, pfft. i couldn’t give a damn about them wanting that body back or whatever.”

yuki and yuta help you up. megumi stares at you, and choso has partially read the air, pitiful expression plastered across his face. itadori’s head hangs low. yours does too. you don’t blame him, you could never, but you’d like to beat sukuna dead right then and there. exorcize him out of his mind, over and over again. your blood boils, and you feel the cursed energy forming in the pit of your stomach. the ground breaks beneath you, literally, and everybody watches the crack extend into the horizon. you feel like a part of you has died again. the first one died when geto committed mass murder and disappeared off of the face of earth, the second one died when he told you to stop visiting the temple. the third one died on christmas eve, with suguru, and two more parts, the fifth and sixth, died when you found out your girls were dead, a few moments ago. you didn’t even know you had that many in you, but you knew you needed an outlet.

so, you use the only one you have around, that is not fatal to anybody: you let the shards break, you let them explode, allow them to cut you — you scream. you scream, falling to the ground, hands gripping at your hair. and you scream, you scream for nanako and mimiko, for suguru, for satoru, for shoko, for nanami who could’ve escaped his destiny had he not come back, for haibara, for inumaki, for mai, for mechamaru, for nobara who’s fighting death, for the youth you had lost, for the kids that are next to you in this hellhole, for the youth they’ve been stripped of, you scream for your life and scream. and megumi sees one of the women he grew up around losing it, and yuta and itadori see their teacher in shambles, maki sees her role model falling apart; yuki sees the only other special-grade, that’s not a teenager, she has left fighting to not blow up the country, and choso sees a talented sorcerer with a good heart dying inside.

and you scream, you scream until your throat is dry and even dryer and you cough, cough dry, cough blood, cough until you just stop.

megumi kneels down in front of you, and you just stare at him. he looks back at you, eyelashes wet with tears he’d never admit of having shed, silently begging you to not leave him too. he grasps your hands softly like suguru did on the first day you showed up at his temple and pulls you in to hug you. and you see in him the boy suguru used to be, and in all your other students the group of teenagers you built a family with and your heart breaks because they built their own too.

maki kneels down too, and hugs you too, and so does yuta, and although, sheepishly, yuji does that too. choso thinks a bit but megumi nods in approval and he does join, and yuki also circles her arms around you as you cry. deep down you feel and know they’re scared of what you would do, so they hold you down.

megumi never saw you cry once. not because you weren’t a cryer, the three of swords was marked by scalding iron on your heart, but because you never really cried in front of people you didn’t know, or people you didn’t want to perceive you as weak. but he remembers the only time — once, when him and tsumiki were staying over at gojo’s for the weekend — he heard you through the walls. he was eleven, he believes, and he still remembers how you sounded. the memory is sewn into his brain, and whenever he remembers it, his stomach knots and his lymph nodes harden. since then, sometimes, when he saw you smiling, he only thought about what’s kept underneath your smile and your designer clothes and jujutsu records that you broke.

“i raised them, they were my girls too.” you whisper, “they only wanted their dad to have a proper burial, was that really so much to ask for?” your head shakes in disapproval to their fate, “curse users or not, i still carry their picture around in my wallet, i still have every inch of my home full of pictures of them.”

you stop to catch a breath. they’re all still around you, not letting go.

“if it means killing kenjaku, i’ll turn myself into a vengeful spirit if it has to come to that.”

[cloud-monki]

Whenever I start consuming some sort of story I usually start asking myself: who would the characters be in a dnd campaign. Not who’d they play, who’d they be in a dnd-like world, so I’m doing this with 100 gfs. I will also be including mystic and blood hunter, but not any other stuff except the officially published stuff. I’ll only be trying to say which class and subclass fits them the most. Feel free to comment or suggest.

Rentarou: let’s start off with our main man himself: rentarou he was one of the characters that I had to do the most process of elimination. I considered bard, barbarian, cleric and heavily considered blood hunter (he actively hurts himself and pushes himself beyond his limits causing some kind of ailment, also he’s frequently called love monster), but I ultimately decided on paladin because although rentarou is aggressive at times, he would mostly want to help, support and defend his girlfriends and paladin is a weird mix of support, defense and damage. As for the subclass, devotion seems like the right one, although the most basic of paladin subclasses it is arguably one of the most defensive and supportive ones, also the tenets feel in line with Rentarou. He would mostly have healing or buffing spells. But let’s be real, Rentarou would probably be level 20 in every class.

Hakari: a difficult one to think of, but in dnd Charisma is not exactly charm, If not force of personality and people skills, and well, I’d say she’s very forceful, additionally we can see that she can be very scary at times, intimidation is also part of charisma, so add a point to that. Now we know that charisma would be her main stat, so we would have to go with either: bard, paladin, rogue, sorcerer or warlock. Now for the longest time I had her be a wild sorcerer before uploading this post, but arcane trickster is right there (the only thing is you’d need to change the spell casting ability to charisma instead of intelligence). It’s a subclass that is defined by trickery and enchantment in class that can is already very strong in charisma checks if needed. She would probably have high deception, persuasion and a lot of enchantment spells.

Karane: barbarian is the obvious pick, it’s strength based and has rage. Now the subclasses were where I really struggled, because none of them felt right, is what I would say before glory of giants. Although you make a case for the others that aren’t Path of the Giants, like maybe ancestral guardians because she has a big family, maybe beast because tsundere = cat, maybe zealot, because she was technically chosen by a god, maybe berserker because that’s like the base subclass or maybe battlerager, because why the fuck not? And even though it’s not perfect it does have one thing that all the others didn’t, it being a subclass that somewhat focused on being able to physically overpowering others, which sounds weird, but the ability to turn giant and being able to toss people around is something that we don’t really see in other subclasses. Also she would focus on grappling more than normal.

Shizuka: also an easy one, a wizard is as connected to books as they are with spells, also high dexterity and high intelligence makes a great wizard. Now also like Karane, the subclass is difficult to decide on, so process of elimination: shizuka is literally incapable of being aggressive so that knocks out bladesinging, evocation, necromancy and war magic. She also doesn’t really create or change things, so bye bye conjugation and transmutation. She doesn’t really have a relationship with time so no chronurgy nor divination. She doesn’t really fuck with other people’s minds, so illusion and enchantment are both a no. And that leaves us with abjuration, graviturgy and scribes. I ended up choosing abjuration, mostly because of the vibe, although shizuka has (accidentally) fucked with gravity before and is very dependent on her book, abjuration just feels like shizuka, she’s a gentle soul with a big heart even for Rentarou’s family standards. She’s eager to protect and help anyone she can, also it’s funny to think that maybe all the abjuration magic she uses on herself is actually people not wanting to hurt her. She’d use protective and crowd control spells.

Nano: eccentric and intelligent are two words that describe nano, those are basically the words that describe everything mystics are. Apart for that, mystics can work as utility and skill monkeys , something nano would be. Awakened makes the most sense to me because it’s very much about having high mental capacities and utility.

Kusuri: this one was also very easy: alchemist artificer, it’s just a medieval chemist. She’d also have a lot of buffing, debuffing and some damaging spells and infusions.

Hahari: this one is was the hardest one yet, but one thing I do know is that Hahari would definitely be a support. I ended up thinking of Divine sorcerer. This is mostly because she’s persuasive, she’s good with people (we don’t really see it, but she is), she’s intimidating and she was also born powerful, rich and beautiful. Now as I said before I wanted her to be a support and lookie here a support subclass that also manages to also have a trait that is also somewhat in line to who Hahari is, divinity. For some reason, whether accidental or purposefully, Hahari has had a fair bit of divine imagery relating to her, the biggest example of which is that she was called “The Mother of All Humanity” in chapter 43. She’d probably be a buff and debuff character.

Kurumi: … I’m starting to regret this. I’m going with barbarian (not just cuz the other tsundere is), but because rage could easily be reflavored as her craving some food. Then there’s the perfect subclass for her: beast, mostly because there’s a bite attack, also quick honorable mention to storm herald, which can emulate her very cold demeanor. She would also probably have high constitution, considering how much she can eat.

Mei: Mei’s a cleric, any questions? Ok, but really apart from Mei being the class that has been delegated to purely support makes sense, but also clerics are different form paladins because paladins are loyal to ideals, clerics are loyal to gods, and I can say with confidence that Mei probably views Hahari as a goddess or something similar. I was considering order, because, it’s Mei, but life I think makes the most sense, because, at least for Mei, Hahari represents life as she was rescued by her and is a very maternal figure, as well as the fact that she deals with Hahari losing blood a lot.

Iku: first thing of note of iku is that she has extremely high constitution, being able to receive pain like a champ and train for hours without end. Secondly, she’s strong, it’s not brought up often, but she is. Thirdly, she’s dedicated (obviously), that’s why fighter makes the most sense and who is the most dedicated fighter archetype, that also has additional tanking capabilities? Samurai. She would probably also use a warhammer (or a reskinned warhammer) as it’s the most baseball-like weapon in the game.

Mimimi: I think mimimi would be the type of person I’m to consider makeup as an art from, either way bard just makes sense. High charismatic and dexterous characters that shine in a crowd. Also college of glamour because of pretty.

Meme: while rogue would make the most sense in theory, I actually think monk would work best, but that’s mostly because of the subclass: way of the shadow, which is just ninja monk. Specifically the features “shadow step” and “cloak of shadows” makes it so the monk can teleport and go invisible whenever they want as long as they’re not in bright light. It just makes sense to give the character that can basically teleport whenever be able to basically teleport whenever.

Chiyo: i guess being a paladin runs in the family AYO. Anyways, yeah like the said paladin makes sense to as she is a person that is very obedient and believes in order and rules. She’s as well as a pretty aggressive person at times, but means well. Oath of the crown is the obvious choice as it’s all about law and order.

Naddy: I originally thought “hey, fighters make really good cowboys, maybe even better than ranger. Let’s find one a subclass that represents freedom or something similar” as I didn’t really know what to do with Naddy. Then I saw the banneret fighter, and that was just Naddy, an inspiring warrior whose feats inspire others to do the same, who not only fights for them but supports those around her. Which makes sense Naddy has been seen inspiring others and helping them get over stuff. She would use pistols or hand crossbows.

Yamame: Yamame is the most druid-ass non-druid character I’ve ever seen, although in dnd a Druid with high constitution and strength but low wisdom would probably not be that great. Side tangent aside shepherd druid just makes sense, apart from them being able to speak with animals and being one of the most defensive and supportive druids, let me just show you a blurb of the flavor text: “These druids recognize that all living things play a role in the natural world, yet they focus on protecting animals and fey creatures that have difficulty defending themselves.”, this is yamame.

Momiji: although a lot of classes can heal with their hands in dnd, mercy monk made the most sense to me, not only does it use wisdom (being in tune with the world around them) and dexterity (how good you are at moving you body). It also made sense since (although it isn’t making people fall asleep) monks can temporarily paralyzed people. They are also people that are dedicated to their art.

Yaku: i don’t think y’all expected something different: Alchemist Artificer. She’d probably have more healing or buffing stuff that Kusuri.

Kishika: we can’t really translate kishika being a baby into dnd (apart from it just being a personality trait), so her knightly personality will be the main focus. Though devotion paladin and kensei monk makes sense, paladin if we want to lean more into her chivalry part and monk for more of a fast and heavy hitter type of deal, I think that cavalier fighter is best of both worlds. Fighter already has a lot of attack and even more with action surge and cavalier has both the flavor of a honorable knight that protects the innocent and someone who is able to swing their sword a lot.

Ahko: Ahko was the hardest one, so I tried to boil her characteristics down, she’s very physically unfit, she loves cute things, she loves sharing the things she loves and she’s some one who is really good at keeping the family happy and together. I ended up with peace cleric, because while she doesn’t really have any religious stuff in her character or worships someone, the rest just made sense, it’s high wisdom, meaning she has high insight and can help and figure out the other girls, it’s a full spell caster, not usually the most fit in the group, it represents kindness, community, and resolution of conflict. As well as the fact that like half of the subclass’s features are bonds. Honorable mention to redemption paladin, similar flavor, but just too beefy for Ahko.

Uto: We can agree that she’d be a bard, I’d like to think that most of her attack spells are just her trying to play music but ending up hurting others. Now for the subclass lore bard makes sense to me, being a pretty basic subclass, while having some abilities that fit in with her personality like cutting words in which and I quote “you learn how to use your wit to distract, confuse, and otherwise sap the confidence and competence of others.” Uto literally did this to basically every gf In her introduction to the family. Also additional magical secrets, which basically makes it so she can have any spells she wants, very Chuuni.

Mai: Much like her “sister” she admires someone so deeply that it’s borderline religious, so she’s also a cleric. Light would probably be her subclass, because it’s not just the burn everything subclass it’s also about rebirth (Mai trying to be more like Mei), truth, vigilance (being a vigilant maid) and beauty (her sister of course.

Momoha: Drunken Master Monk just makes sense in a purely flavor-wise sense. Her Buddhist themes make sense as monks are largely based on Buddhist monks. They’re wise, using a lot of wisdom, which makes sense since ethics could be considered a very wise profession. Also alcohol (although drunken masters aren’t technically constantly fucked up, but yeah).

Rin: as you may have seen, some characters with duel personas or twists haven’t really been represented fully which I’m sad I can’t really do, but it would mostly boil down to roleplay, but Rin is a special case because Eloquence Bard fits her royal personality, love for violin and unsettling interest for violence. Of course Rin really isn’t a violent person herself, but enjoys seeing other be violent, boom a support class. She’s very charismatic, boom bard. She’s very elegant, boom eloquence college. She’s at times creepy or unsettling boom fear spell or others that are similar and unsettling words from her subclass.

Suu: might seem weird, but Suu is character that has a very firm and strong belief that she holds as an unshakable truth and uses her passion to convince others to think so as well. That’s a paladin. Now the subclass was even harder to figure out, but even though I’m not 100% confident saying this, but vengeance makes the most sense, she seeks retribution for the unfair treatment of numbers!

Eira: monks are the class for martial arts practitioners, and open hand monk is the most basic monk of monks.

Tama: Druid kinda makes sense for her, as she is all but physically a cat, she can make the remnants of her human form disappear for a bit with wild shape. And while moon might seem like the obvious choice as it encourages high usage of wild shape, I think that dreams makes more sense, as it’s about rest, tranquility and sleep, something Tama really care about.

Saiki: First things first, a Talented charismatic preformer, sounds like either a sorcerer or a bard, more so a bards, but she is pretty abnormal. Wild magic sorcerer is probably the best option, the amount of raw abnormal and chaotic energy just radiates off her. She would just have a mismash of spells that just don’t combo well or combo weirdly.

And that’s all the girlfriends for now, I’ll probably make a update when we get to 30 gfs. This was really fun to think and ponder about, even if it took me like 200 days, but hey I’m posting this like 12 hours after the premiere of the first episode of the anime, so it was probably fate.

Thx for reading this far, bye.

[andiftheycare]

so there’s this satosugu soulmates au I’ve been thinking about for months now and I know I’ll never get around to write it so here it is:

- the world this au is set in is based on senses. You know the “people are colourblind until they met their soulmate” au? Think of that, but in this one all the senses are involved. The most common is sight, because that’s one sense people use the most to understand the world, but sometimes is your perception of taste, sound, touch etc that’s affected.

- equally, your senses are conditioned by the sum of people you meet in your life that have an impact on the person you are/you’re becoming. So, for instance, Geto associates his father with a sense of stability, so the colour he gets from him is brown because that’s the colour of dirt and earth.

- if you think of colour theory, though, you also know that colours are affected by how they are layered upon the other and, of course, by our perception of light. So if you think of sight in this au, think about your world getting more and more nuanced the more you collect important people and, eventually, your soulmate (which btw in this world it’s not necessarily romantic)

- in this world love is literally a curse. The way senses are affected is born by the yearning and of unrequited feelings, and it’s so cemented in society there aren’t only multiple mythologies around it (red string etc) but also it has made it impossible for sorcerers to exorcise it

- The fic is set the winter before the Hidden Inventory arc. At this point Geto knows he’s in love with Gojo and it’s expecting his senses to be affected by it. Shoko has told him that, for her, it was the colour blue - she can now see multiple shades of it and, quite frankly, it seems fitting.

- however, it takes him a little while to understand Gojo is not affecting one of his colours. Gojo, somehow, rewrote so deelply how he sees the world that he affects the perception of light itself/how he sees white (because of black/white symbolism)

- however PT2 Geto realises only when he starts to feel ill. When the world becomes too vivid and too much, because, well, you know what affects Gojo’s sight? His six eyes.

- and as a six eyes user, Gojo doesn’t have a soulmate. He’s born perceiving the world fully, no senses affected. Except when he starts to taste vomit and shit in his mouth every time Suguru ingests a curse and what the fuck, no, he’s not supposed to have a soulmate, they’re not supposed to be connected that way (except they are, and the taste is insufferable)

- feelings are mutual in this fic and they realise quite quickly because of the curse connection, but the closer they get, the more intimate they get, the more is the pain for Geto, which eyes (and brain) are not build to process the six eyes

- literally I have one scene in mind where they kiss for the first time and they have to stop because Geto is in so much pain he’s about to throw up

- needless to say they’re both incredibly touch starved here

- needless to say they look for the most stupid ways where they can be together without hurting each other

- but they reach a point where Gojo goes on more and more solo missions to avoid hurting Suguru, and stay physically away from him, where all he can taste for days is curses after curses

Honestly this is the first thing I plotted ever in this fandom and I don’t have all the details but I’d love to build in canon the red string legend and what would the consequences be/how would it fit in the curse world. Thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[rhetoricandlogic]

REVIEW: Elder Race by Adrian Tchaikovsky

I know Adrian Tchaikovsky best from works like Children of Time, Children of Ruin and Dogs of War where he uses other creatures, often affected by humanity’s meddling to talk about very relatable human issues, often dealing with the issue of communicating across species boundaries. Elder Race deals with similar core themes, but all of the protagonists are human. Sort of.

Lynesse Fourth Daughter is an impetuous spare heir in a devolved human society that is at a roughly high medieval state of development (or rather, regression) who seeks the assistance of Nyrgoth, the Elder sorcerer (Elder Race, get it?) to aid against a demon that is afflicting nearby lands. The problem is that Nyrgoth isn’t really a sorcerer but a low level anthropologist who’s notionally supposed to be tracking the development of a colony on behalf of the successors to the more developed human civilisation that originally set them there.

Yes, this is very much nailing the ‘any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic’ trope right on the head, but it does it very well.

Things are complicated by the facts of exactly why Nyrgoth is alone in his tower and has a reputation for coming to these people’s aid in former generations and the story really turns on the difficult relationship between Lynesse and Nyrgoth and their vastly different outlooks on the world.

Elder Race is not a long book, definitely in novella territory but it packs a lot of big ideas and sharp characterisation into the low word count. Tchaikovsky uses the contrast between the core characters as a way to show how people can be very different but also ultimately very much alike.

You have Lynesse being impetuous and determined while Nyr is restrained, overly cerebral and battles depression. Lynesse sees Nyr’s capabilities as magical while he’s all too aware of his limitations and the science at play. At the same time, for wildly different reasons both fear that they are failures and want to prove themselves, to find connection to a kindred spirit or find meaning in their lives.

The difficulties of communication are fun as well, as Nyr’s imperfect translations of Lynesse’s lingual drift leads to him trying to explain science to her but the meanings sound like magical terms, so he ends up saying “I’m not a sorcerer, I’m a magician” and similar to great mutual frustration.

Throw in the way that Nyr often misreads things like how clothing styles are supposed to work or the nuances of local power structures or manners and theres a neat comment on how being a more advanced, supposedly Elder Race and having a near omnipotent viewpoint isn’t as great when you lack context.

Ultimately, the demonic antagonist ends up being almost beyond Nyrgoth’s science anyway, which implies that there’s more going on in this universe than he’d previously been aware of and maybe they have made contact with a genuinely Elder Race and not just a coloniser with some cool toys. The shared existential dread of a genuine Outside Context Moment is a nice subversion of the tone of the story up to that point.

I also detected a fun pun where Lynesse refers to the adversary as a demon, yet how it works seems to be analogous to what a daemon in computer terminology does, except operating on a biological level.

All in all Elder Race is a really fun novella, displaying Tchaikovsky’s trademark sharp prose and big ideas conveyed in interesting ways. It feels like a nice thought experiment that worked out into a compelling story and I’d recommend this to existing Tchaikovsky fans, plus anyone who likes Iain M. Banks, Ann Leckie or Gareth L. Powell.

[whalesforhands]

Hi! I LOVE your DYF series and I’ve been reading all the side stories, too! I just read the one where Reader goes on a mission alone with Gojo, and saw in the little end notes that you mentioned bubbles when thinking of Reader’s technique.

Personally, I IMMEDIATELY thought of those hydro Abyss mages in Genshin Impact that trap you inside a bubble😭 (I noticed the Alhaitham fic, so I’m assuming you know the absolute nuisance those things are, HAHA).

I also remembered that Reader has a sort of black hole(?) that she can go in and out of, which made me think of Megumi pulling Playful Cloud out of a shadow like it was some sort of storage closet, LMAO.

Anyway, I’m interested in know if you’ve thought more in depth about Reader’s cursed technique? It hasn’t been extremely crucial to the story thus far, so I’m a bit curious.

In the manga, they say that most great sorcerers are grades 1 & 2, but we lose that perspective with Gojo’s strength being a focal point in the series. Thinking about someone like Todo Aoi, who has a fairly simple technique — just annoying and disorienting, makes me want to believe that if Reader can use more wit than physical strength, that she’ll have a lot of potential!

sorry, this is a lot and super random, but i just like these sorts of things🥹 feel free to ignore, i’m just in a brainrot of sorts

for the bubbles, idk if you can tell but i like sea creatures, and mappa has the whole aquarium/fish agenda, so i was like ‘damn i’m gonna be so sick for this cursed technique’

so the excuse for the bubbles is to turn them into shields! much like those hydro abyss mages ahahaha. except it’s made of cursed energy and are (near) indestructible. and also she can’t drown anyone in them unfortunately

they can be destroyed, but it depends on the grade. after the star plasma vessel, i’d say dyf mc can be promoted to a grade 2 sorcerer.

anything below grade 2 will find it near impossible to break, whilst anything above will have a hard time, but will eventually break it once they overpower her

for that ‘black hole’, it’s actually more like a transportation vessel. i think i was really disoriented from drinking expired milk while writing that i took ‘ground swallowing you whole’ quite literally. it was also a way for me to characterize mc’s shame and shy nature

the whole, ‘i don’t think i can do it so i’ll hide’ kind of vibe yk?

anyway, the way to ‘properly’ use the void is to align your soul with the body, moving them in tandem as if they were one if that makes any sense

basically a teleportation skill lol haha. you ever played portals? one will be the entrance, the other, the exit. so you can quite literally pop in and out and shift the voids around.

(dyf mc has gotten stuck many times before whilst practicing)

so you can say this ‘void’ is an entrance to her soul. in a manner, i wanted to contrast her powers. one protective and doesn’t allow anyone in, whilst the other is something that needs her to trust someone wholeheartedly.

haha

it will play quite a huge part in the upcoming chapters so i’m not gonna say anything more lol

[teawinx]

Hello again

Thanks for answering my question before 😊👍

Hmm here are some suggestions you could try to implement in your rewrite (if you feel open to them l mean)

The major fairies of earth each guard over a relic belonging to their element/season

Diana :Flower of Life for Earth/Spring

Nebula:Sword of War/Staff of Peace for Summer/Fire

Sibylla:? Not sure what for her yet (maybe a book on earth magic(book of knowledge?)/Air

Aurora:Crystallized Snowflake/Water

Ok and here’s this :in addition to being holder of one of the four elements of nature,they also have an auxiliary power (this of it as being similar to the main element but slight different like branches (so light being a branch from fire , ice for water, metal for earth, and sound ? for air )

Also what about non physical/elemental powers ?(y’know like emotions,illusions,technology,music,etc)

.Cause I was trying to make an Winx oc inspired by your rewrite and her power /title is fairy of the rainbow (so I guess is this case her source of power would be light and fire magic)

oh and how about instead of just being born a witch or fairy,it’s more like idk earning a job ? Like everyone has magic in them and it’s up to them to decide what they want to be (like a fairy,witch or sorcerer/warrior) Also I feel like since Earth low key loves witches and fairies,the relationships between them would be more friendly than they are in Magix ( Roxy and Selina’s friendship being obvious difference) (where they’ve basically been feared/maligned no thanks to the Trix causing massive trouble nearly every year thus making some Magic fairies feel like all witches are no good and are out to do evil (even though magic is a more or less neutral energy that can go either way)

Also what do transformers look like for Earth Witches (same for fairy transformations) I’d feel like they would look different than the witch and fairy forms from Magix (making them look different to make them stand out and thus kinda being looked down upon by them Magic fairies since magic is just coming back to Earth after being severed for centuries by the Wizards of the Black Circle (thus maybe adding to Roxy and Selina’s struggle to fit in at Alfea/Cloudtower during their first year trying to work on their Winx (I thought that would be a good term for both witches and fairies because I couldn’t think of anything’s to call a witch’s first form/transformation)

So basically this

Winx - believing in one’s self

Charmix -facing your deepest fear

Enchantix - sacrifice yourself for someone you don’t agree with (Earth)

Believix (Highest level form just for earth fairies)-belief in the power of unity with others

can’t remember what you wrote down for witch forms so you can just put them in your reply

Hi hi

I'm unsure about implementing relics alongside seasonal spirits/fairies. Feels very very similar to a certain other series (RWBY). But I think the whole seasonal thing could be the opportunity to explore nymphs a bit more. So Diana is the Nymph of Spring for example. I love the idea of Nymphs in Winx, it's just a massive shame they weren't able to explore it further.

An oc based on my Au????? I'm gonna throw up that's so sweet aaaahhh!!!! Fairy of the gays yaaaaassss

I think you'd be born one thing (like you're born a fairy, or you're born a witch/wizard etc) but you're able to transition into a different magical being if that's what your heart desires. Like Mirtha basically.

And yeah, I think using Terrestrial Fairies/Witches could be a great opportunity to show how different the relations are. On Earth they're chummy, but they're in for a nasty shock when they see the Magical Universe. A very big part of Roxy's story is her disgust at the treatment of witches. That stuff ain't gonna fly, not on her watch.

All that you said at the end is mostly correct, except for Believix! I've gone on record a few time about how much I don't like Believix, so it's changed a lot here. Believix is a form created by the White Circle to combat the Black Circle. The Black Circle absorbs magic, so you can't stay transformed around it, Believix is the only form that's not affected by that. It's a weak form, but it's enough for you to hold your own.

And for the Witch forms, I'm still a bit unsure. We have Base Witch, Advanced Witch (Gloomix) and then High Witch.

Voilaaa

[doctorofmagic]

Strange #9 Review

(Yes, I know the last issue is tomorrow and I’m super late. I blame my adhd. You know, the thing with deadlines? It’s a me)

Anyway, there are a few details I want to point out in this issue and some fundamental bits that I’d like to delve into. So let’s start with this panel.

I find it hilarious but I can understand why some people are not happy about Clea’s portrayal. It’s true she has never been this feral before but *IMO* I think it’s valid for her to have this side because 1) she was raised by Umar and Dormammu. Her father was a simp, her mother, a narcissistic queen, and her uncle is freaking Dormammu. Besides, let’s assume one cycle in the Dark Dimension equals 1000 years on Earth. We don’t know Clea’s age but we do know she was born during their reign so I assume she has a few centuries there at least; 2) she was the leader of a rebel army. My girl is not one sweet damsel in distress at all. She fought a war and saw many of her friends die; and 3) she has Faltinian blood. I’m glad she redirect their need to conquer towards love, though. So, in conclusion... I pretend I do not see it.

PS: Stephen’s pose like he were Batman sent me!!

Now let’s focus on this part because it’s always reassuring whenever a writer confirms what I’ve been talking about since forever ;-;

I usually tend to describe him as a healer, but doctor is also a good word once he knew that was his call since he was eleven.

And this is why I can’t accept whenever someone calls him self-centered (partially due to his MCU portrayal). Stephen is altruism incarnate. He’s very kind and doesn’t hesitate to sacrifice himself in order to save people’s lives (which is also shown later in the preview). This is not my personal instance, it’s literally all over this volume and so many other books.

And this panel pretty much sums up what I was trying to say about both Clea and Stephen.

We never managed to see Clea’s past and what it felt like to be raised in such a place. But we do know that she finally learned love through him, which is super unusual because love is most often associated with female characters, not the other way around. And this happened in the 60′s!

And noooow let’s appreciate Stephen’s sappiness because omv how I missed this. He’s been looking for someone to be this sappy with for ages ever since Clea left! It didn’t work with any of his flings because truth be told, he’s a hopeless romantic 🤧 Clea is lucky 💜 (and she blushes!!)

Now my favorite part because they’d be talking about Marc and Victor, it was such a bingo for me (for those who don’t know, they’re part of my top 5 characters tee-hee)

I love that they're trying to justify their faves here. Friendly reminder that Marc once stole Stephen’s powers in (ew) Age of Khonshu, so it’s kinda shocking for Stephen to hear that there’s kindness in Marc (but there is!!!). Meanwhile, Clea doesn’t really know Victor’s soft spot (yet) and they don’t usually see eye to eye, but Stephen is far more familiar with Victor and has seen kindness in him a few times (although yes, Victor isn’t one to give things freely. Listen, he’s complicated! *my Stephen side vouching for Victor is showing, I know...)

Moving on, I’m glad there’s an explanation for how Clea managed to become Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme without a new tournament. People be discussing this and tbh I was kinda tired. I just wait for things to be explained and look! Turns out it was.

Also I cry.

Aaaand he’s making jokes about being dead 💀

Moving on... Here I am once more, praising Jed for showing impeccable knowledge on Stephen’s lore. Director None reveals that he was in contact with the Trinity of Ashes and also working for them.

Back in Sorcerer Supreme, the magic deities were forcing Stephen to fight for them in the War of the Seven Spheres. He refused and lost part of hs power until he finally agreed to serve them. Except that the war lasted five thousand years. In order to preserve Stephen’s sanity, the Vishanti suppressed his memory of it (Sorcerer Supreme #48; #80).

Director None is using the revenants to spread chaos and pain in order to please the Trinity, but he’s also preparing a vessel for them. And this vessel is... well, THE Sentry.

Which is not only super dangerous but also painful for Stephen due to their history. Stephen once assisted Bob with a spell to make the world forget that he existed in order to eliminate the Void - Sentry’s “dark side" manifest (Sentry #4-5). Stephen also helped Bob with his mental health by locking him in his own mindscape (it was not ideal but it was the only way for Bob to feel safe without the Void’s influence). Stephen lied to Bob about the Void (it was somehow locked in the Sanctum?) and for that Bob ended their friendship (Doctor Strange #381-385).

It’s true that Bob died several times (last one was Knull’s doing, a very graphic and violent death, to put it mildly). But hm, it’s the Sentry. He always comes back. He’s like Marvel’s Superman, and that includes his strength. He beat Hulk in WWH. He’s that strong. So yeah, Clea and Stephen are really screwed =D

I’ve already read the preview pages for #10. I’m saving it all for tomorrow, though. I’m very much excited and it’s been a long journey. Can’t wait to see how Stephen will come back to life and how they’ll rekindle their marriage I’m not expecting spicy tomorrow but I won’t be denied in v6!! Did you hear me, Jed? I want my spicy!!

As usual, delicious food! See y’all tomorrow <3

(PS: I have access to the Infinity Comics now and I need to write a post on Victor Strange because Ewing is indeed cooking something for him. And I can finally have a full view on that by reading the Strange Tales compilation. Soon!)

[muwitch]

If you're taking directions on the ask, I'd love to hear 1 and 8 :)

I AM, fjoiefj thank you for asking!🫶

How does your character figure out their class/subclass? Is it different from how they were before losing their memories?

Technically as in what they are, classes remain the same as pre-tadpole. She could’ve respec’d, if she was leaning more towards wizardry/scholarly magic in general, but Gale did kinda subconsciously discourage her from that. Otherwise most of the classes feel kind of specific and require training or strong belief in a patron god if we try to look at it realistically and we ain’t got time for that. Plus there’s a certain appeal I feel in kicking back to old habits.

As for how she figures, I’d say it’s on the go. First as a sorcerer right at the nautiloid, magic still comes naturally to her. In a state of extreme distraught and weaponless, it’s the first tether (pun intended) to whatever past she might have. Commanding spells does feel like something she inherently knows and it’s like helping Teth concentrate in a way her scrambled egg brain feels more whole. 

She’s certain she’s a sorc even after surviving the crash despite the obvious clues pointing to something else. It takes her a bit of time to figure out her bodily behaviour and as Teth remains quite pragmatic and uses reflection as a coping mechanism, she then understands there’s a reason for how she moves, how easily physical becomes instead of being smart and keeping distance, how familiar and soothing a dagger is in her hand instead of a staff. It corresponds with the urges, with innate knowledge how to skirmish a body as well as nurture arcane. And whatever she was before, it hits home. The encounter with Quil is the cherry on top.

Are there any points in the game that you see as branching points for your dark urge? For example, are they torn between goblins/tieflings? Or are they clearly on one path or another?

Teth is…I would not say she’s torn. To a degree up until Ketheric she’s just rolling. She’s not exactly a heroic figure and probably never will be: her actions are the result of a certain pragma that Teth uses to weigh up her immediate decisions, as there’s nothing from the past (aka behavioural experience) to back it up.

[As an example: she discovers the Grove first, it’s not without its quirks, but it’s sort of a temporary shelter. They are “siding” because at that moment the party needs a healer. So it points to Halsin, they go to retrieve him amongst other things. Teth contemplates betraying the Grove alright since there’s this lead to Moonrise, but Minthara just blows it up. So they stick to carnage Teth very much appreciates and it just happens to align with the “good” guys.]

However if I was to choose branching points… It would actually be Isobel’s murder or lack thereof.

For Teth it is sort of a point of suspension of disbelief or not. If act 1 was more or less getting into urges for the lack of control, act 2 feels more measured. She finally has threads to the past and is on her hunt for them. There’s more control on her side and Teth generally just wants answers. Which she doesn’t get and Sceleritas is misinforming and going all “tehee, despicable master, just roll with it” without anything to back up any statements. It pisses her off far and beyond, but it also gives her a choice. As always: to follow blindly and on instinct or to fuck and find out.

So Teth deliberately goes “I forgor" in her visit to Last Light, but when Sceleritas appears again to remind her what needs to be done, I guess that moment is sort of turning point. And if she did actually kill Isobel (and everyone inside but not like she did particularly care for anyone except maybe Dammon bc of his usefulness for Karlach and bit of tiefling kids), it would throttle her back onto her old path immediately. It would make Ketheric’s death so much more enjoyable for her, it’d lead her right back in her father’s embrace like she never ever left and she wouldn’t even truly know what set it off.

[also whenever to team up with Gortash of course, but it is already lengthy.]

[theblackdragon-studios]

When Into the Spider-Verse came out, I made a spider-sona like a lot of people. Except…she wasn’t that good. The outfit was. The story wasn’t. I won’t go into it…but it was just lazy and…yeah. Not great.

I’d been wanting to rewrite and redesign her since Across the Spider-Verse, but I didn’t know what to do or how to make it unique. Or at least something believable.

Until now.

Introducing my redesigned Spider-Sona…who was not bit by a radioactive animal of some kind, genetically altered by science, or anything like that. Actually…she’s the symbiote (usually known as Venom) host of her world, except her actions and his past change things from usual probably.

I wasn’t going to do that at first, because I thought that seemed silly…but then decided why not? I like monsters, I like monstrous-looking heroes, and I like Venom (both together and as just the symbiote) (all versions of him, not just the one from his title movie).

I’m not an expert on Marvel comics or on Venom, though, so don’t expect absolute accuracy and smooth insertion…but I thought it would be fun.

She isn’t recruited by the Spider-Verse HQ either, either because she is also an anomaly, she was mistaken for being the Venom of her world, or they didn’t trust her to be a good hero since a parasitic monster is how she has her powers…and if she can’t control him, they can’t trust her to not cause damage. (Actually though she would say “fuck canon” and try to stop a horrible canon event like Miles did. And the symbiote would make sure she succeeds… So Miguel would probably fire her immediately. lol)

So that’s the idea…I don’t think I’ll do much with this since like I said, I don’t know a lot about the source. But if I come up with any short skits or want to draw this version of my s/i more I will.

Edit: I decided the symbiote with her is actually one I made up. They’re all more or less the same until they develop via bonding to people, so this one is an ‘OC’ in that it isn’t a canon one.

-

Bonus details on the design and some sketches under the cut.

Design Features

-The suit is the symbiote. She wears some kind of clothes under it (at least a pair of shorts and a tank top), but when changing to her Spider alter-ego he (the symbiote, or Venom if he goes by that name here) just forms as the suit around her. Settling on a design took a while…and deciding on a name took even longer. (She refused to go by the name ‘Venom’. It felt wrong and gave a bad impression of who she is.)

-When she loses control of her emotions, and later when facing a really tough opponent, the symbiote responds and becomes the more monstrous form we know him for. Meg was scared of this form for a while, since it was so much stronger and more dangerous.

-The belt was added by Meg. She used to keep a phone-holder clip there and have a pouch on the other side for headphones, which she wears to listen to music when fighting the average robber or weaker threat. It keeps her focused and calm, and keeps the symbiote from taking over completely. Later these are replaced by an enchanted pouch by a sorcerer that eventually becomes an ally. This pouch is basically a bag of holding but looks like a simple Velcro-strap pouch.

-She fought for the hood and eight-eyes look the mask has. The hood because it makes her feel less exposed and it looks cool, the eyes because spiders usually have 8 eyes. This is the only accurate thing to spiders on the design aside from the chest emblem in her usual hero form…the symbol being a tarantula. Her favorite type of spider.

The design of the mask helps to throw off her enemies. Especially when the symbiote makes the ‘eyes’ all narrow with her real eyes for effect. This has led fans and foes alike to come up with wild theories about her being a spider-human mutant thing with increasingly disturbing features under the mask. (A cryptid if you will)

-She also came up with the flying squirrel-like design element they use later. The symbiote changing the suit design to have wing arms like a flying squirrel for gliding if she can’t use webs.

-Her feet look like she has shoes on, because under the suit she does. If she is ever not wearing shoes when ‘suiting up’ her feet look more like most spider-peoples’, which is to say like slippers or barefoot under the fabric. This makes people even more confused on what the heck she even is…and there are entire blogs and magazine columns theorizing about it.

Bonus sketches

The redesign traced from the old ones I did. I drew all of these when I made the first, but I got lazy so just traced my own work here.

The more powerful and monstrous form they take when facing a much tougher opponent or when emotions run high. Meg used to hate this form…but as trust with the symbiote grew and she saw that when working together they could control the strength of it, she became more accepting.

She still does not want to run around like this, though. She wants to keep up that motto of “friendly neighborhood spider-hero” everyone else (except Miguel I’d guess) has. Only the bad guys need to see the monster.

Whether this view changes or not…who knows. But when this form was revealed people were more confused than ever on WHAT. THE. HELL. SHE. EVEN. IS???

She comes to really enjoy all the crazy cryptid theories they come up with. X’D

[martianbugsbunny]

OUAT Thoughts Pt.46--Episodes 5-6

I have watched through S5E6; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for those further behind than I am.

—Before we started episode 5, my mom and I were discussing (I say discussing, but it was more like a collective brain-crash) which was our favorite character and which was the one we most vibe with. Neither of us came up with a vibe, although I’m sure I could and would end up very annoyed with myself for the result, but her favorite is Regina and mine is Rumple. These two episodes have only cemented it. He’s just so terribly well-written that I can’t help adoring him. I’d love to know other people’s opinions on either of those, but with my usual caveat: if it involves spoilers for future seasons, I’d still be happy to hear it, but only after I’ve gotten past that point myself.

—That faceless Dark One was a bomb-ass design. That mask was amazing.

—Merlin is gorgeous. I was expecting some old beardy guy, but I much prefer the Sorcerer who actually showed up. And his cloak is awesome. I’m a sucker for cool embroidery.

—Speaking of good clothes and gorgeous people, Regina got a new red dress in Camelot that I am absolutely loving. It’s a different fabric, the shade of red is different (I actually think it’s a shade that’s better suited to her skin tone), and the embellishments are laid out differently. She’s fr not my type in Storybrooke or in any Evil Queen clothes except the outstanding riding habits, but in Camelot she just hits different.

—When Henry set up that date with Violet at Granny’s, I spent the scene thinking about how good her costuming is. My mom’s main takeaway was, ‘if he really liked her, he would’ve poured her Coke instead of Pepsi.’ Which is true. Ain’t no soda like a classic Coke.

—At the midpoint of…episode 5, I think? I thought Henry and Violet were going to be a cool example of how different circumstances could inspire different relationships between the same people—but no, it was so much worse. I’m still waiting to find out what Emma’s motives or goals are, but if she’s justifying hurting Henry for them, she’s definitely up to no good.

—Swaggy that the Charmings know not to trust Arthur in Storybrooke. I was starting to get worried about how long they would be ignorant.

—Also, at this point the Charmings may from time to time include Regina (and Robin; she gets a plus-one) and Hook.

—Emma’s dreamcatcher garage is a scary place.

—When Rumple was reunited with Belle, that stuff he said really got to me. This is legitimately beyond words for me, but suffice it to say I do believe one person can be enough to keep you in the world. Whoever wrote what Rumple said about not letting go because he heard Belle’s voice must believe that too, because you can’t write words that real without one or both of experience and belief.

—Merida. Honey. Sweetheart. Light of my life. That splitting the arrow trick is cool, but you can’t reuse those. Conserve your ammo.

—Okay, so there’s some new backstory for Merida that works better than just the other clans not wanting a queen. Having her fight in a war alongside her father is a cool story bit, and the fact that her aim wavering on the battlefield is what led to the other clans doubting her is a stronger concept.

—She should’ve been a ginger bear. ✨for the vibes✨

—Kinda sad that the teacup is broken. That thing’s been important to me almost as long as it’s been important to Rumple and Belle.

—You know what, Belle has gotten mighty picky. She doesn’t like Rumple when he’s the Dark One, she doesn’t like Rumple when he’s his natural self, and yet around other people she goes on and on about how she’s not giving up on him. Yes, he’s probably his best self now that he’s faced up to his fears, but at some point Belle might want to consider that she doesn’t truly love him. Barely any version of him is good enough for her, which I think says more about her feelings about him than it does about those other versions of him.

—For a while I’ve been debating with myself about whether I’ve wanted Rumple to change so he could be with Belle (which you’ve seen some of the results of already in this review), and I’ve finally reached my major conclusion. I want Rumple to change for himself—not because I particularly dislike him one way or the other or because I don’t think he’s good enough in my opinion or someone else’s—but because I want him to be a person that *he* can be proud of. I want Rumple to be able to look himself in the mirror and like that man. That’s why this personal journey is so satisfying; I’m invested in him for his sake, not for the sake of the people around him.

—I got so many goosebumps when Rumple pulled Excalibur! 😍 *weeps with joy* And I think the best part is that he made a deal with Emma for someone else. Instead of just pulling Excalibur, or refusing to pull it, he only did it in exchange for Merida’s freedom. That is a beautiful counterpoint to the Dark One he used to be and I am entirely here for it.

—Y’all, I think this might be the version of Rumple I’ve wanted to see since the fourth season. He fierce.

[slashingdisneypasta]

(M.I.) Why was I born, just to suffer? (Awkward dream details follow).

So, I was dating this rando and we moved into a warehouse-looking apartment. For some reason, sitting on a table full of junk was a semi-skeletal head that looked like a partially decayed Gammill. For whatever reason, whoever left it there thought that decapitating him would kill him. It didn’t. The head was staring right at me and the random boyfriend. And then it just came back to life and regrew a (completely naked) body. (We’ll blame this on the fact I’ve rewatched and laughed my ass off at that documentary on YouTube where they talk about the…er…shrinkage issues on the set of Fear Clinic more times than is maybe entirely healthy the last couple days.) Also not decayed looking anymore.

But then after trying to kill us, he just gave up and left. Wound up doing this creepy stalking situation like Phantom or Dance Macabre. It was a little of both with the murdering other people we kept hearing about. Then I saw him kinda hanging around (with clothes this time lol) and finally realized he was after me. At which point, I got intrigued and started trying to find him. Apparently I’d just decided to stalk him back and dump my normal boyfriend (🤷🏼‍♀️ well-adjusted behavior).

That’s when my nephew started tormenting his sister IRL and they crashed into the bedroom wall and I had to get up.

I never got to find my new stalker boyfriend 😭

Okay I've been off Tumblr for the week but I had to come back when I saw this for two reasons!-

1. I was literally wanting to finally write an old Dr Andover fic I have yesterday!!

And 2. I HAD A BLACKIE DREAM LAST NIGHT.

It wasn't as good as yours though, omg XDD Yours sounds so good, haha except being woken up before you could find your wall man 😔 Thats devastating!!

I love how your dream self has her priorities straight, also?? XD Why have a boring normal boyfriend when you can have a sorcerer brahms heelshire XD

Also also... w h a t shrinkage issue?? ☠️☠️☠️ I actually have no clue about that XD Please come back, I have to know XD 😅

[loosealcina]

ANTONÍN DVOŘÁK’S RUSALKA AT LA SCALA, JUNE 13, 2023

It’s been known for ages—I mean, since way before the pharaoh who built the Great Pyramid of Giza was even born—that essentially any stream/body of water will make an effective door between this world and the other one(s). (I believe I read it in Alan Moore’s Voice of the Fire maybe?). I’d say this iteration of Antonín Dvořák’s Rusalka—created by Emma Dante, back at La Scala with a new production some fourteen years after her dazzling season-opening Carmen—was specifically designed to focus on one of these doors. It was as though somebody had set up a camera trap in the darkest, most secluded place you can imagine, in front of a pond in the middle of a nameless forest, so we could see what’s going on—especially after dusk has fallen. Only, the wildlife we get to observe is much stranger than expected. It wouldn’t be easy to keep a record of everything: sorcerers, enchanted bipeds and quadrupeds, the accidental explorer, minor deities… But first and foremost, we get to observe a water nymph named Rusalka. Her home would lie behind that eerie door: deep down at the bottom of an obscure, aqueous kingdom. In fact, she’s the daughter of the water goblin himself, the venerable Vodník; but she refuses altogether to accept the life she seems to be in for. Hence she’s but a struggling, melancholic, somewhat injured creature. She’s in love with a human prince (their thing is already [kind of] on when the curtain goes up); yet that circumstance alone activates a lethal curse nobody will be able to lift or escape. (Besides, the presence of two conspicuous villainesses—Ježibaba [a witch], and the Foreign Princess—won’t help in the slightest). Now that a sweeping synopsis is done, I’ll proceed to state that this Rusalka experience as a whole was—I’m using a technical term here—genuinely rad. Emma Dante went with extreme, awe-inspiring simplicity. (Rusalka and the Prince’s final scene—their deathly kiss, their naked words, their endless, motionless embrace—would be an excellent example of that). She also went with lowbrow art (namely Ray Caesar, Nicoletta Ceccoli, and the like). To me, this retelling—whose sets/costumes/lights were conceived by Carmine Maringola/Vanessa Sannino/Cristian Zucaro—was all but explicitly located in that peculiar universe.

Other than paying homage to a handful of talented artists, that choice ended up filling every inch of the stage with a pensive, direful contrast between (A) an archetypal version of childhood and (B) a sizable package of unspeakable perils (both internal and external) that childhood is bound to face. (Not without a penchant for that creepy/spooky/gory touch here and there). The orchestra conducted by Tomáš Hanus appeared reluctant to stray from a narrow area between forte and mezzo forte. This lack of variety was probably the lone part of the night I’m likely to grumble about, but there were a number of delightful exceptions; while the great ball at the castle (Act II) came with its own array of musical tricks and spells (whose actual magic was effortlessly transformed by Sandro Maria Campagna’s choreography into a gloomy dream within a dream), Rusalka’s Act I Song to the Moon—only magnificent—made me think that if, say, Clara Schumann, Emily Brontë, and Leonard Cohen somehow teamed up to pen a Song to the Moon together, the result would be drifting through the night in a very similar way. As for the cast. Out of the many assets of this brilliant operatic ride, one of my favorites was this: each and every character, either bigger or smaller (plus airborne, submerged, terrestrial, etc.) managed to come off as a complex, occasionally enigmatic, ultimately interesting individual. All the actors/singers did a spectacular job, but my listening heart was positively conquered by Olga Bezsmertna’s take on the role of Rusalka. I’m sure you remember the unceasing clash (A) vs. (B) I’ve mentioned a short while ago; now I promise, that very clash was entirely encompassed—ignited, boosted, boosted again, and eventually wiped out—by her voice. I’d call it a shape-shifting act. Her timbre mostly gravitated toward the gentle, unripe quality you’d associate with utter innocence and vulnerability and then, all of a sudden, an explosive rise capped with a shadowy, threatening high note would turn her persona into a fearsome nonhuman tragédienne (still in love [and hurting as well], but fearsome nevertheless). In case you’re interested in matching up the atmosphere of this fairy tale with a nice read, you can do what I’m currently doing and spend some time in the company of Sally Gardner and David Roberts’s Tinder (2013).

[heliinx]

“GREY SEER HELIINX.” Azriel’s voice comes from everywhere at once, though the beast himself is….underwhelming.

He is humanoid, at least with the exception of his eyes. Those are always the same, piercing blue and deep as the void of a frigid sky. The sorcerer is clad in black and red garb that is as much armor as it is mage-robe, and designed less full and flowing and more for quick movement — he is a fighting mage, after all. There is, notably, a familiar glint of glowing green set into one of his clawed gauntlets.

He also appears rather pleased with himself for finding and subsequently bothering her. He’s been slacking.

“You seem to have found yourself in a bit of a predicament. If only there was something I’d given you that might help…”

He does not specify that it helps him find her. Wouldn’t it insult her intelligence to assume she hadn’t already figured that out?

Heliinx very nearly squeaks in alarm, but manages to slap her hands over her snout and stop herself. She was half-hidden like an injured skaven tended to be, and making any noises would give her away.

Although, from the sound of things, Azriel had already caught her. Still, she didn’t come out, keeping to the inky shadows. From them, she sees a man-thing and not the beast she is used to seeing, though a few twitches of her nose confirms that this is the same being.

Dimly, she wonders is Azriel is a servant of the changer. He definitely had the magic, the avian-esque aspect...Was he somehow involved in her savaging?

She frowns, “ Tiny-small feather would not have helped.”