#in mourning actually

[thebifrostincidentlive]

the worst part of having to make a new email is losing all my google docs cuz i wrote an entire thing of techno breaking into the prison to beat the shit out of dream for killing tommy and i cant find it now and it was SO GOOD

[attyattlaw]

ace on gouache more like gouace(??)

anyway happy birthday

[stellaclaw]

boiling hot take but i literally dont give a fuck that mapleshade let the clan believe her kits were birchfaces. her clanmates can be mad but exiling a queen and her kits is fucking deranged i dont care what lie she told. “she deserved what she got” her kids deserved to die because their mom fibbed??😭 her kids deserved to die because their mom did crimes LATER???😭😭 “um but she chose to cross the river” if i was orpheus i would simply not turn around.

[konigbabe]

PERISH

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader Word count: 1.6k Tags/warnings: no y/n; manga spoilers (post Shibuya timeline); canon-compliant; angst; death; emotional breakdown; hurt/no comfort; loss; grief Summary: For the first time in a long time, Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks. Happy start of JJKS2 writing week.

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

November 2018 8 minutes until Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

"Don’t worry, I’ll make it on time. I’m right behind the corner."

"We can wait," Yuji’s voice carries through the car, the static of the Bluetooth speaker occasionally cracking.

It feels like years have passed since you last saw him. Sealed away in the prison realm, Gojo’s state remains a mystery. There’s no telling how being locked in a place where time and space don’t exist can affect even the strongest minds.

That’s what worries you. What if he’ll break? What if he goes crazy on all of you? What if he explodes; wipes you all out with his technique? An endless sea of ‘what if’ swirls inside your mind as you take another turn, the mountains on your left with an ocean view on your right.

"Don’t," you reassure the youngster, "don’t wait any longer."

"You should be here, though," Megumi jumps into the conversation, "You’re closest to that idiot. He’ll want to see you."

His words draw a smile on your lips. It’s finally happening. The sleepless nights are coming to an end with the arrival of your lover.

"Then I’ll just opt for a dramatic entrance while you keep him busy," you respond before tightening your hands on the wheel. A familiar feeling washes over you; sudden knowledge of a new presence. Heart picking up, your eyes search the road for the source while the car’s speed slowly drops.

32 seconds; that’s how long it takes you to locate the source. A curse spirit manifestation stands in the middle of the road, blocking you. Its small hunched build stands a mere meter above the ground; four arms decorated by translucent fins hanging by its body, the prehnite skin glistening in the last rays of today’s sun, giving off a wet, moist appearance.

"Boys," you announce, stopping Yuji’s and Megumi’s bickering while still keeping up the cheerful, light voice in an attempt to not raise suspicions about your current predicament, "don’t wait any longer. Unseal Satoru and stop worrying ‘bout me. It’ll be fine."

Bringing the car to a slow halt, Yuji’s tone shifts into a more attentive one as your name seeps through the speaker before you hang up after one more reassurance.

As you step out of the vehicle, the curse's malevolence engulfs the air, almost tangible in its intensity. It clings to the atmosphere like a poisonous fog, penetrating your senses with a pungent sulfuric odor that threatens to overwhelm you.

Your hand slips inside your jacket to retrieve a carefully preserved seal, reserved for such precarious situations; just like this one.

"I’m sorry," with every footfall, the curse seems to shrink in size, yet its malicious nature grows stronger, the smell of sulfur almost suffocating, "but I’m in a hurry right now and you," pointing the parchment paper towards the spirit, "are in my way."

Swift and precise, your movements carry an aura of practiced precision. With little effort, you firmly press the seal upon the spirit's head, causing it to stumble momentarily before dissipating into thin air, vanquished by the power contained within the sigil.

Yet, the energy lingers.

Stronger than before. Stronger than a second ago. Its absent defense, non-existent attempt to fight or flee…it all makes sense now —

A powerful grip; a strong hand adorned with talons as keen as the finest blades dig into your shoulder as an inhuman force pushes you to the side.

As you're thrust aside, your vision catches a subtle glimmer of chrysolite, a hue that seeps into your perception; its scales are sturdy, each edge honed to a dangerous sharpness. Driven by instinct and the will to protect yourself, you reach out, your hand making contact with the curse spirit’s scaly hide.

The jagged edges of its scales cut into the delicate flesh of your fingers, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.

— it was a decoy.

Your body collides with the unforgiving side of the mountain, back meeting the rough and unyielding surface. A symphony of pain resonates within your bones, their structural integrity compromised as multiple cracks reverberate through your form.

Gasping for breath, your body instinctively seeks solace, but find none amidst the terrain. The curse doesn’t wait either. Swiftly moving forward, it lunges at you. Unforgiving. With a clear intent to strike. To kill.

During Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

There is no pain. The moment the curse’s hand breaches the barrier of your chest, you expect it. Expect some kind of visceral reaction. But there’s none — a gentle pinch, akin to a fleeting touch when the sharp claws first pierce through the protective layers of your breastplate. A slight discomfort upon the feeling of having a foreign object that’s found its place within the confines of your ribs. The barrier of your rib cage offers minimal resistance, yielding to the relentless advance that seeks to reach the very core of your being. The heart.

It all feels confusing.

"Kenjaku sends his regards," it whispers, the words slurred by the razor-sharp fangs that protrude from its mouth.

October 31, 2018 — 8:09 PM

"What’s the worst that can happen?"

Satoru saunters around the corner of the table, his presence punctuated by the audible slurping of juice from a small cartoon container. All while your palms rest on top of the said furniture, fingernails tapping at the surface.

The news has spread fast through the jujutsu community, faster than wildfire. Whispers of an unknown curtain cast around Shibuya an hour ago, trapping all non-sorcerers, innocent civilians, inside its insidious grasp with only one demand: Bring Satoru Gojo.

"Don’t say it like that, Satoru," you turn to face the man whose casual and dismissive demeanor only adds fuel to the worries setting inside your bones.

"They’re a bunch of curses," his hand finds its place on your hip bone while placing the empty container away, "Some special grades, yeah, but they’re weak compared to me. I’ll deal with them, save some people in the meantime, and bam," he snaps his fingers loudly, "We can go home. Get that sunset date you’ve been babbling about. Life is good," he finishes with a kiss on the crown of your head.

Life is good.

You watch the sun dip below the horizon behind the curse spirit’s back, indulging the sinister being in a halo glow.

Yeah. In the end, life was good.

2 hours and 48 minutes after Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

For a moment, he stands still. Unable to look down; frozen in time. The weight of it all seems to bear down upon his shoulders – now that Sukuna’s taken over Megumi’s body, Nanami’s and Yaga’s death, Suguru’s body being used as a vessel, the slow crumbling fall of the Jujutsu world – and now you; being gone.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of the current time. Yet even his immense power proves futile as the people he loves keep dying on him…because of him.

A burden that threatens to crush him beneath its insurmountable gravity.

The air around him hangs heavy with sorrow, as if the very essence of grief has manifested itself in the atmosphere. A storm of emotions swirls within him; a combination of disbelief, anguish and a gnawing ache that gnashes at the core of his being.

He clenches his fists, fingers trembling with a mixture of sorrow and determination. In that agonizing moment, he finds the strength to finally lower his gaze, to confront the devastating truth that lies at his feet.

Everyone holds their breaths, the weight of his misery echoing in the silence as his eyes meet the lifeless visage of the one he holds dearest.

Of you.

Hand reaching out, his fingers graze the once-soft flesh of your hand; now cold and stiff. It serves as a confirmation of reality. There’s no getting you back, no way Shoko can nurture you back to health with her technique.

You’re gone.

And in that harrowing instant, the façade crumbles. The walls he built to contain his pain come crashing down, and Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks.

Crumbling down on his knees, the vulnerability that spills forth from his broken form is raw and unrestrained. Only a handful of those closest to him stand behind to witness the symphony of torment that pierces the silence. Tears stream down his face, each drop carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words, moments you two could’ve spent together.

One hand covering his mouth to silence the guttural sounds, the other reaches out to you, tenderly cradling your lifeless head upon his lap. He clings to the fragile hope that if he could provide just enough warmth and love, you might return to him.

Yuji looks around the room, at the people who silently observe their friend fall apart. Taking a step towards the hunched man, a soft grasp stops him mid step; Kiyotaka shakes his head, pushing his glasses back in place as Shoko looks down. For the first time, she’s unable to figure out her classmate, her childhood friend, the man whose side she’s always stayed by.

"Gojo," Yuji doesn’t allow Kiyotaka to stop him. Believing in what’s right, he stands behind his teacher’s back.

Hand laying on the tense muscle of his shoulder, he doesn’t attempt to comfort Satoru with any words — no words in this universe would bring you back anyway. Instead, his hand just rests there. Unmoving. Gentle.

"Who did it," his words cause Shoko to look back up as Satoru, stone-faced and stoic, speaks in a firm, devoid voice. Imagines of unspeakable horror flashes in his mind as he stands up, towering over the wide-eyed Yuji.

"Tell me now," his eyes search Kiyotaka’s, voice filled with undeniable authority, "I’ll kill them, kill them all."

[3lostyears]

until i recently read posts on here about how there is an inherent queerness to the doctor and rose's relationship in how it's unspoken and filled with yearning that i'd never really considered that element, despite knowing for ages that RTD is gay but. man. it's just reframed a lot of the series for me, like the idea that you have this lonely man who's just watched his people die and is self-destructive and misanthropic and traumatised and he can love again and he wants to but it has so many risks.

but especially S3 and how it adds even more weight to the doctor's grieving widower status. how he tells martha that he and rose were together but martha refers to rose as a friend to tallulah; the fact that he can only say they were together once she is gone; how the only other person that both can feel how he feels but also understands the depth of his feelings is jack, a queer man himself. and I've been thinking to myself lately oh, it's ok, the doctor and rose probably accidentally got married on at least one planet or something but also the point is that there was no official title that could convey to people the extent that they meant to each other, that the doctor can really only tell donna that rose was his friend even though it is so wholly inadequate and she comes to see that by the end of the episode (and martha too of course). how people who saw the doctor and rose together assumed they were a couple, like on krop tor, but once there's no more physical evidence of the relationship it becomes more vague (and simultaneously clearer).

anyway something about how christopher eccleston said he based his portrayal of nine on RTD and something about RTD saying that his husband is "in every good man i write now" and how the doctor and ruby seeing each other in the club mimics his first meeting with his husband aka the one moment he would use a time machine to go back to hmmm

[c-hrona]

Pietà

[messiahzzz]

assorted morena dekarios headcanons:

she possesses a sharp wit and is very perceptive, but is also incredibly kind and gentle

strong presence & really eclectic taste. she loves bright colors, extravagant patterns, collecting paintings, and all kinds of knick-knacks. her house is a reflection of her personality: warm, welcoming, and cluttered with ✨precision✨

has a penchant for big jewelry (especially necklaces)

gale deems her “unavoidable” because she has a way of seeing right through him, sometimes even going beyond motherly intuition (and because you’d spot her everywhere)

she always strongly supported gale’s individuality and wanted to give him every opportunity to grow into the person he wants to be

this often clashes cause she does worry about his safety constantly

on that note: would do absolutely everything for her son

her ex-husband had little interest in raising gale and deemed him too exhausting/high maintenance. morena eventually encouraged his decision to split, knowing his presence would do more harm than good

loves books but doesn’t bother to keep them in good condition (much to gale’s horror)

as he got older their dynamic grew to resemble a friendship, which is also why he refers to her by her first name

they banter a lot and it is very entertaining to watch/makes their similarities even more obvious

surprisingly strict whenever the situation calls for it. it’s a sudden 180. don’t mess with morena dekarios

claims she’s not interested in gossip, but is very curious nonetheless

possesses extensive mixology knowledge, but hates being drunk. life needs to be experienced to the fullest with all senses at all times

she’s a natural dancer despite not having a whole lot of practice

very welcoming to a romanced!tav and the rest of gale’s new friends. she has already been filled in by tara and withers. naturally, as long as her prince is happy she is as well

almost rivals gale in the duration of his crying during his own wedding. once he begins to read his vows she’s immediately brought to tears

actively tries to get to know a romanced!tav and makes sure they feel included in their family whenever possible, but will also respect if there’s no interest/some apprehension

she is very respectful of gale’s privacy and knows when to step back, albeit no less worried

she has dark, long, curly and thick hair that is hard to tame. (the envy of all her neighbors her age) she usually puts it up in a claw

tara has her own corner in morena’s sitting room, including her very own cozy armchair. no one else is allowed to use it.

[anteroom-of-death]

It always drives me insane, but especially now, how people dismiss 12 and Clara as romantic canon or eventually subtextually romantic. We've seen the Doctor in Canon romantic love. We've seen the Doctor in Canon best friends situations.

With his arguably biggest (based on how insane the fandom and writers, especially rtd are/cling onto) nu who love interest, Rose. When she's in danger he's fawning and doesn't bend. 10, especially isn't furloughed in morals as much as 12. (Or 9, but this is a different talk for another day.) He's not laying awake thinking if he's good or evil. He just accepts and goes.

When Rose and the whole Doomsday plot happens, all 10 does is burn up a sun to say good-bye. (Then treat Martha like shit until uWu Donna time.)

With Clara, he frequently goes to the next level. Hell, most his words in seasons 8 and 9 is her name! He's jealous in a way he never was with Mickey at Danny. He's constantly at odds with himself. He feels and acts legitimately threatened.

When she is finally dying. He loses all pretense, gives into his urges and threatens genocide, holds hostage, coups and kills. He is willing to undo his past of saving Gallifrey from falling, to save her. Keep her. Hold her.

It's only when Clara reels him in does he think differently. Go a different route. Be nicer. Chose a shard of kindness to the rest of the universe.

They both brought out the best and worst in each other until the bitter end.

"Friendship" my ass. That's real, toxic, deep all-consuming love.

[sskk-manifesto]

Rip to the most iconic Kunikida line ever you'll always be missed

[hogoflight]

when Artemis and Apollo enter a heated (siblings being siblings) argument, they get loud enough and also get pissy enough one turns into a husky and starts screaming.

Artemis: -Apollo, I’m TELLING you, HE’S GOING TO BREAK YOUR HEART!

Apollo: WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW? TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT HIM. RIGHT NOW.

Artemis: AT LEAST I WON’T COME HOME WAILING ABOUT SOME GUY LIKE A. LIKE A UM. LOSER!!!

Apollo: WELL AT LEAST MOTHER LOVES ME MORE!!! LOSER!!!

Artemis, turning into a husky: AWWWOÖEÊĘOOÖÄAAAÆÆÄÂAAAOOOOŒŒÖOOOAAAAA

Apollo, turning into a husky in response: AAARRRRAARAÜUUUUÛUUOÖÖÀAAÁGHGHÀAA

[cat-hybridcellbit]

I am desperately hoping that we get a BadBoyHalo that’s similar to Eggpire!Bad, because that was some wonderfully creepy acting on his part and I want more! I want the other islanders to feel their skin crawl when he talks, to sense the menace behind his honeyed words but have no proof for their fears. This is Bad! Their friendly neighbor and uncle and dad! He’s just confused right? They’re just imaging the chill down their spines when he smiles, all teeth and no warmth….right?

[the-ships-to-rule-them-all]

the level at which people are misusing the term "Never Again" in the far left absolutely infuriates me.

"Never Again" doesn't refer to the idea of no more genocides -- unfortunately people are evil and corrupt and seek scapegoats and destruction, there were genocides in the years following the Holocaust, there were genocides 10 years ago, there are multiple genocides going on as we speak

"Never Again" means we as Jews will pay attention to the warning signs, will not mindlessly allow antisemitism to fester and take over our communities, we will fight back. it means we will be proud. it means we will not let you hate us without a word of refusal.

"Never Again" is a warning for us, it is a reminder that what happened then can happen now -- is happening now. The Far Left doesn't get to use it against us. You don't get to turn our tragedies into hate-speech and antisemitic rhetoric.

Am Yisrael Chai

[cherfright]

No one is missing Gojo more than him tbh

[uncanny-tranny]

The sheer pity party some alloromantics expect of aromantics is really funny to me. The expectation is that we ought to feel broken or afraid that we will never be worthy of anything if not for a romantic relationship, but as the years go on, I've been so much less inclined to feel those ways.

People expect aromanticism to feel like a prison, and I think that's looking at it wrong. My aromanticism never imprisoned me - amatonormativity did. Being aromantic taught me that I can never and will never be "made whole" through romantic attraction. Amatonormativity teaches that to be whole is to be pursued, to be in love, to be possessed, essentially. Being aromantic has freed me of those expectations because I had to break those chains in order to truly understand what will make my life worth living.

I've been finding more and more that being allo will never appeal to me - I don't give a flying fuck about allo being "normal," and frankly if being normal means being allo, I simply just won't be normal.

[b1cr1ptic]

Break time with Dve (what is she thinking about)

[biblionerd07]

I think Betty is Daniel’s best friend but Daniel is not Betty’s best friend, you know? And she tries to hide that from him because she knows he thinks he’s nevvvver anyone’s first choice in things that matter but of course he realizes Christina is her best friend (and probably Hilda too but that one doesn’t hurt as badly because hello sisters first) and Betty’s soooo relieved when they start dating because anytime he’s like “:( I’m not your best friend :(“ she can be like “no but you’re my boyfriend!!! a category JUST for you!!!” And then they’re both happy.