#i mean show version is slightly less sad

[s4lv4tions]

numerology; nsfw

pairing; gojo satoru x reader / gojo satoru x geto suguru (past) / geto suguru x reader (past) summary; numerology — the belief in an occult, divine or mystical relationship between a number and one or more coinciding events. or: trying to move on. wc; 13.4k cw; death, angst, requited unrequited love, violence, smut (at the very end, but mentions throughout), canon divergence, spoilers for manga an; if you think you've read this before, you probably have! i posted this on my old tumblr a year or so ago, and it's still available on my ao3. this version is slightly updated and edited, but still diverges from canon as it was created at the start of the culling games arc :)

1.

The first time you bathe with Satoru, he cries.

You don't notice at first; he's quiet — abnormally so —, and his face remains pristine, unchanged. The only hint you get is a small, barely audible sniffle that stops as quickly as it starts — and you think he wants it that way. You don't think he's ever cried in front of anyone.

That's why you don't say anything. Just continue washing the suds from his hair, and pretend that the tears rolling down his cheeks are beads of water dripping from his hair — but you take extra care to massage the conditioner in, and peck his cheek as you finger-comb through silky, cloud-white strands. 

It occurs to you afterwards — as he lounges on your bed, scrolling through channels with a wayward hand planted on his stomach — that perhaps, it's the first time somebody has taken care of him. The first time ever, or just the first time since… since…

Geto Suguru's face smiles up at you from your vanity — a tiny polaroid, his face no bigger than the nail of your thumb. Beside him, Satoru grins, cheeky and bright-eyed — you don't think he's ever been any different —, and in the corner, the smudge of your thumb covers the lens. You don’t have to lift the photo and check the back to know what’s written there, in your scratchy, looping scrawl; the strongest, 2006.

"Lord of the Rings?" Satoru calls, carefree as ever. A yawn catches in his throat, and his fingers slip underneath his shirt to scratch absentmindedly at his chest. "Ooh, haven't seen this one yet…"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

It was a better time. Less pain. Less responsibility. Less death — or maybe the same amount, just shielded by the blinding cover of childhood inexperience. Suguru was still alive and burning bright, Satoru was happy (happier. He didn't cry in the bath, at least). Shoko didn’t self-medicate as intensively as she does now. The days were spent in childish ignorance and stupid indulgence, and even when things seemed their darkest, you never lost hope. 

(It probably says a lot about you that, if given the chance, you wouldn't return. Whether that's because of what you know is bound to happen, and the pain is too much to experience again, or because you're so utterly pathetic that you'll take sadness and grief and a tiny shred of affection over… whatever it is you were back then, you don't know. A smudge in the corner of a picture of the jujutsu world's greatest.)

Suguru's eyes seem to burn into you. You turn the picture over, and rejoin Satoru on your bed.

2.

"It's been two years."

Satoru doesn't like to talk after sex. Not in any way that's really meaningful, you mean, nothing that lets you in. He loves jokes, empty small talk, work politics. Chatter that's deep enough to show he cares a little without bearing any part of himself — your injury healed up? When was the last time you had a break? There's a new teppanyaki place in Shinjuku, I'll treat you. Don't work yourself too hard, you'll put me out of business! 

If you're being honest, you didn't go into this expecting anything more than a person to scratch an itch with. 

You're already friends — though, you're not sure friends totally encapsulates what Satoru is to you, romantic or platonic. You've been friends since you were 12. Satoru, Suguru, you — and then Shoko, when you all met in your first year at Jujutsu Tech. That's how it's always been.

You swear sometimes you know him better than yourself. You swear sometimes it's his voice you think with. Is that what "friends" encompasses? Somehow, it doesn't seem enough.

Whatever. The point is that your relationship with Satoru is already strong; foundations tall and proud and unshakeable. You didn't start fucking Satoru in the hopes of forming a relationship — one was already there.

It's just... Satoru is young, yes, and he enjoys flirting, but (contrary to common belief) he's not all that keen to sleep with the first person who's willing. You don’t say this with the belief that you’re special. It’s just that with work, and especially with — y'know, his… romantic history, Satoru hasn’t found the time or will to just sleep around. At least, according to him.

Sheer willpower isn't enough to make those urges go away, though, and… well, you had them too, and you were willing, and he trusts you. And you'll take anything he'll give you, really, even if it's just scraps. Even if sometimes it makes you feel worse.

Today's one of those days.

You feel sick, after. Not because of him — because of yourself. Your polaroid of Getou and any other photo he's in has been turned over, anything that could remind you of him tucked away, but — but he's everywhere today, everywhere, and you'd fucked Satoru despite it. And Satoru is covered in memories of Getou, of course. Every freckle, every shifting of muscle, every jut of bone — did Getou touch him here? Caress every bit of him he could get his hands on? Tangle his hands in his snow-white hair, breathe against his collarbone? 

When you came, you cried. Pretended it was just because it was so intense, but behind your eyelids, dark, cat-like eyes stared back.

"Hm?" Satoru hums as if he didn't hear you, eyes fixed on the TV. Dumb doesn't suit him — it's honestly a bit of an insult for him to even try it. Like you didn't sense the stiffness of his limbs the second he'd stepped inside, or the crumbling edge of his smile, or the way he'd forced you to love him harder — pull his hair harder, scratch his back deeper, his Infinity turned off and his skin yours for the marking. 

Satoru's mannerisms are scribed into your brain. You catch yourself emulating them, sometimes; hands waving, head tilting, grin wide and posture open. You wear it like an oversized coat, an ill-fitting costume, and sometimes you wish you could stop taking on pieces of him. The more you take, the more you must throw away — and it's Suguru that your memory discards. You find yourself forgetting how he hummed when he woke up from a nap, or filled his cheeks with food like a hamster; how he scrunched his face up when he laughed, pretty all the while…

The point is that even with his incredible knowledge, his awesome strength, the sheer holiness of his existence — you know Satoru. And the fact that he came to you today isn't mere coincidence.

You decide to come out with it. You've tiptoed around it for 24 months, give or take, had a shockingly brief mourning period before the jujutsu world forced you along, and… even with what he did, Suguru deserves better. "Suguru died today."

A beat of silence. Then:

"Mm, I guess he did."

You'd spent the day staring out at the grey sky, the miserable sight of soaked pavement. Grey, grey, grey. Concrete jungle. Heavy rain clouds and an ocean of multicoloured umbrellas, bobbing and rolling to destinations unknown. You hadn't said it aloud; hadn't even thought of it, specifically. The knowledge of it had just sat over your head like a thick, sweltering fog — and if you know Satoru at all, you know that he'd done the same. Maybe he hid it better.

You don't have to look now to know that his lips are pressed thin. You find the sudden thought of looking him in the eyes daunting, anyways, so you turn onto your side, back facing him, and pick mindlessly at the sheets. You don't want to see what his reaction will be when you say—

"Did you know that I loved him — back then?"

You don't want to see the shock, or the confusion — and you'd rather not see a lack of them, either. What's worse, you wonder — him knowing and loving Suguru too, or not knowing and loving him?

"...Yes."

You screw your eyes shut and try to will away the sudden surge of cold, like a sharpened dagger to your chest. 

(It turns out that knowing is much more painful.)

Suguru Geto had been the apple of your eye ever since you'd met. 11 and gangly and stupid in a way that all children were always stupid, Suguru had been a bit kinder than his white-haired counterpart. Satoru, being Satoru Gojo, had grown up with no fear of authority, no mindfulness for his less-powerful peers as anything more than people who existed around him. You and Suguru were allowed the title of friends, but very few were. Anyway — he grew out of that mindset, of course, but your fondness for Suguru stayed.

(Though they'd always seemed to be on another level than you — not even just in terms of power, but… just caught up in each other, always. Suguru had only ever wanted Satoru. And vice versa.)

And then Suguru changed. Right under your nose, he changed, and his sudden quietness made sense. His fatigue. The way his hands would always shake when swallowing an exorcised curse, always had since you were kids, and then suddenly they were ingested with a scary calm. Nobody understands the taste of curses. Not even you, not even when he’d explained it in sickening detail.

You sigh, then. Tired and lethargic and not from physically straining yourself for an hour. This is bone-deep, soul-weary. It's been held in for 730 days, or maybe more. Maybe you've carried it with you since birth. "I never apologised."

"For what?" Satoru asks — and he laughs, jolly, and the sound fits awkwardly in his throat. A clear attempt at feigning indifference, but he's a bad liar. He always has been, because he's never needed to lie. Perks of being the strongest, you guess. You can just come out and say shit — and if you can't, not saying anything technically isn’t lying. 

"I hated you, after," you confess. You dig your thumbnail hard intoyour pinky finger, taking momentary refuge in the sharp shock of pain. "I couldn't stand to look at you. When I did, I saw… I saw what you did. What you had, and what you had thrown away. I blamed you for Suguru. I blamed everyone except Suguru."

Another snicker, a bit too humourless. "You can't stand to look at me now."

"I…" You don't know what to say to that.

Truth is, you don't want to see his face. Contorted in pity, or disgust, or sadness for you. You've gotten used to living in his shadow — most everyone has — but that doesn’t ease the ever-present blanket of insecurity that you carry around your shoulders. It doesn’t dull the ache of inferiority you’ve been housing in your chest from the moment you were saddled with your technique. As you aged, you got better at hiding it, and you generally prefer your self-pity to go unnoticed, but Satoru—

He could always read you like a book. And you hated it. You hated being pitied by someone who was as powerful as him — someone as close to God as one could get. It was demeaning. Patronising. It makes you feel like a child again, bowing your head as your mother makes excuses for you.

You shift over — onto your back, and then onto your other side — and you look at him. You force yourself. Blankets pooled around his waist, his skin so pale it could be translucent, eyes icy blue and framed with fluffy white.

"You were forced to do it," you murmur. Your eyes remain trained on his chin — his are much too bright, much too all-seeing for comfort. "If you hadn't, he would've gotten worse. He never would have stopped. You knew that, you always did. It… took me a while to come to terms with it."

Satoru sighs. Then, he slumps down so that — like you — his head rests flat on the pillow, and his body arcs towards yours. He's forced himself into your sights again, in a way that’s gentle, but not so much that you wouldn't be able to figure out what he's doing: forcing you to face him.

"Would it have made you feel better," Satoru begins, reaching forward to brush his fingers against your chin, "if you were there when I did it?"

Would it have?

Would it have given you closure? Would you no longer spend your nights wondering what he'd looked like, what his last words were, his last thoughts? If he had spittled and roared in anger, if he had wept in fear, if he had attempted a smile, a joke? If he thought of you, or if you were just another insignificant blip in his radar?

In your mind, Suguru exists as his 17 year old self — smiling and mischievous, polite yet humorous. He puts extra broccoli on your plate and gently berates you to eat more. He tells you that you're a precious part of the team, that none of them would be who they are without you. He calls you crybaby because you always wear your heart on your sleeve, and tells you not to worry about things you cannot change.

Change what you can. Forget the rest and leave it to me, crybaby.

The bubbling hatred that had festered inside him has no place in your head. You want him to stay as he is, your Suguru that was never yours, shining like gold in your mind.

"No. He hated me at the end, I think," you say quietly. For a second, you dare to meet his eyes — bright and pointed in how they stare at you. You know he can see the tears that have begun to burn in your waterline, the way you ball your fists so hard you dig half-moon into your skin. He doesn’t need to be blessed with the Six Eyes to see.

"I wasn't interested in changing the world like he was, even with my Technique. That made him despise me, I think."

Satoru stares for a few more seconds. You wonder what he's thinking about. A second in your time is a lifetime in Satoru's; he must be thinking hard. 

But he blinks, at last; sighs so deeply that his chest caves in with it, before he winds an arm around your waist and pulls you close, bare chest to bare chest, only atomic space between you.

There's nothing sexual about it. You're nothing but bones and skin and blood, here. He moulds your head to his shoulder with one large hand and cocoons you in his embrace, warm. Protected. You're not sure who the action is meant to comfort.

And just when you think the conversation is over — just when minutes have passed with nothing but the sound of the TV between you both — he speaks.

"Suguru could never hate you. Trust me."

You don't want to know what that means. You're only beginning to get over it, two years later.

3.

Satoru is holding three onigiri in one hand, and two Starbucks' cups in the other — extra sugar, extra cream, extra ice, extra unicorn-marketing, just the way you both like it. 

"There she is!" Is the first thing he says as he meets you just outside the metro, grinning. 

It's sweltering hot today — the sun had risen early and would surely set late, and Satoru seems to be taking advantage of it. Gone is his Jujutsu Tech uniform and thick blindfold, but he's stuck with the all-black theme like he usually does — black jeans, black linen shirt, black socks and shoes. Even the frames of his sunglasses are black.

(Handsome. He's handsome. He's always been handsome — years later, you'd think you'd stop feeling the effects of it.) 

Lucky for him. You're not, y'know, the strongest sorcerer in the last century, so there's no leeway for you — and even in your summer uniform, the skirt and short-sleeved blouse, you're sweating. Your only respite is that the combined force of you and Satoru will mean this mission is going to be a breeze.

Satoru tsks. "Took your time. I almost ate your onigiri."

A man nearby jogs past, clearly in a rush, and Satoru has to step closer to you to avoid him. He could've stayed still. He wouldn't have touched him, anyway, with his Limitless.

"And you would've had to buy another, genius."

A pout. "You only love me for my bank account, don't you?"

(He's joking. It's a joke. 

But your hand shakes — a miniscule tremor — as you reach out to take one of the cups, and you know he sees it because he's Satoru and he sees everything. You turn away as quickly as you can, setting off in the direction of whatever place it is you're here for, and pretend that the fact that he can say it so casually doesn't kinda fucking hurt. 

(He could never say it like that with Suguru — so bluntly, so crassly. Not without softened eyes and softened smiles and a gentle tilt of his head — those are mannerisms reserved only for him, never to be seen again. Instead, you get snickers and digs in the arm and teasing pulls of your hair. Of course it’s a joke. That’s all you are.

Perhaps you should just be grateful for what you get. Perhaps you should try to stop comparing yourself to a man you once loved. Perhaps you should try to stop comparing yourself to a dead man. Perhaps, in the end, you just love the pain of it all.))

"Yeah," you reply, taking a large, sugary sip. "And don't you forget it, either."

Satoru catches up to you quickly, effortlessly; his arm flops around your shoulder as he tugs you in the opposite direction, chastising you for going the wrong way — but it stays there long after it needs to.

4.

Itadori Yuuji — Sukuna's dead-but-not-really vessel — thinks your cursed technique is powerful. He thinks it’s amazing that you can use reverse cursed technique — you must be really powerful, right? Gojo-sensei says you’re special grade. He also thinks you're very pretty. He tells you this over his fourth grilled pork belly wrap — this one bursting at the seams with kimchi, garlic, and roasted sesame seeds.

He doesn't say it in a flirtatious way — it's just an observation to him, simple and blunt, and you figure he has about as much of a filter as Satoru does.

"O-oh," you say, metal tongs frozen over the sizzling meat. "Thank you, Yuuji."

You had briefly met him for the first time before his death — Nobara, too. Megumi, the third piece of the golden trio, has been something of a little brother ever since Satoru had taken him in, and you know him well enough to know that Yuuji's death (or lack thereof) is weighing on him terribly. 

(There are too many parallels you could make. Suguru and Satoru. Haibara and Nanami.)

Hiding it does make you feel guilty. To experience that grief, that loss — even if it will soon go away when Yuuji rejoins jujutsu society — isn’t something to take lightly. But Yuuji needs a guide that isn’t completely off the rails. Satoru and you balance each other out, and balance seems to be something Yuuji needs.

He reminds you terribly of Satoru when he was younger. Maybe that's why you have such a fond spot for him — he's too goofy and well-meaning and genuine to dislike.

"Why are you acting surprised?" Gripes Satoru, chewing with his mouth open. "I tell you that all the time."

Your eyes narrow. You place a perfectly cooked slice of marinated beef on his plate. "You're you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He whines. "We're best friends, crybaby!"

"You don't say I'm powerful. You say I'm helpful. There's a difference. And don’t call me that."

"Is there?" Satoru asks, turning to Yuuji for guidance. The teen boy shrugs, preoccupied by assembling his newest monstrosity. "I call you pretty, too."

"Yeah, when—"

When you're eight inches deep in me, face buried in my neck, trying to get yourself off. Your cheeks flush with warmth at the thought, and you shut your mouth. Yuuji doesn't notice your slip up, busy as he is; Satoru does completely, and fixes you with a grin so sharp that you vow to not give him any more meat until Yuuji is completely full.

"It's not the same," you say, voice final. It's a lighthearted lunch. You don't want to ruin it by getting touchy over semantics, and that's exactly what'll happen if you keep going. "You say it to reward me. Like tossing a dog a bone."

You reach for the scissors to snip the meat into little pieces — and in doing so, you miss the brief frown that presses against Satoru's brow.

Neither of you say anything more on the matter.

5. 

Satoru has known you for five years when he realises that he resents you. Not completely, and not for one particular or solid reason, either. He prefers not to think about it, in any case, because you're one of his closest friends — and even at 17, he knows that that's hard to come by. Especially as the Strongest.

Satoru stares up at his ceiling; stares at the miniature striations only he can see, the starburst-shaped gyrations of clay used to finish it off. 

Tonight, he's thinking about it. And many other things.

He hates that you're so hesitant about everything — he hates that you believe yourself so weak that you have to tiptoe. You, with your reverse cursed technique — which is a feat in and of itself — that could transcend time and space, just like he could. A technique passed down for hundreds and hundreds of years, accumulating power all the while…

(Your technique has lots of rules and regulations, of course. A handicap, and he understands it frustrates you, but his own frustration eclipses his understanding. Why should someone so strong feel anything but their own strength?)

He hates that you curl in on yourself when you're sad, or lonely, or angry. He hates that you wear your heart on your sleeve — he's never allowed himself to, not fully. He can't, never fully, because there are people who are watching him, people who hate him, people who want him dead. He can joke. He can make his political desires clear — but he can’t love like he wants to, and God forbid he cries.

He hates that you close your eyes and bask when it's sunny, like a cat in a sunspot; hates that you remember that he doesn't like chicken wings and prefers thighs; he especially hates that you watch over Suguru like it's your job, when Suguru doesn't need it.

And some part of Satoru hates Suguru, too. It was strange for him to come to terms with it, fond of him as he is, but as he grows Satoru realises that there's no love of his that isn't closely affiliated with hate. It makes the love all the more strong.

Satoru, for one, dislikes how polite Suguru is, even when he doesn't need to be. He hates that Suguru becomes a straight-faced, unfeeling thing when he's upset, and tries to hide it — the emptiness in his eyes unsettles him like nothing else.

Most of all, above all, Satoru hates that Suguru loves you, crybaby, and is too pussy to do shit about it. Satoru doesn't understand why, anyways, because he'd made it clear that if he wanted, Suguru could have you both and Satoru wouldn't care. Usually, the thought would offend him. How can you love someone when you already love me? When you've already sworn yourself to me? You already have the strongest, who else do you need? 

But… he doesn't know. He kinda understands. You're precious to him, too, after all, sunflower soaking up the sun. 

Like he said: there's no love of his that isn’t closely affiliated with hate.

6.

Six and a half hours after the hours-long meeting that followed the ruined School Goodwill Event, you find yourselves in a diner somewhere in Harajuku. It’s one of those weird fusion places, loaning ornamentation and tokens from classic American diners, serving omurice with fries, sushi with mashed potatoes, with a cute little mascot that looks like Elvis. It’s loud enough and bright enough to make you feel timeless. It's a sensation you can appreciate. 

Something’s been telling you that time’s ticking, and you’re not quite sure what it is. Trauma, probably. Anxiety. The fact that curses have been banding together, learning spoken language, amassing power — planning an attack on Jujutsu Tech, gaining intelligence, gaining anger.

Satoru doesn’t say it — doesn’t want to say it — but you think it’s unnerved him, too. The last time outsiders entered school grounds was… two years ago, wasn’t it? It’s crazy. Everything always seems to lead back to Suguru.

The attack has fueled something in both of you, anyways; something that makes you both stay up instead of knocking out like you usually do; something that makes you both hungry and restless and liable to travel across Tokyo past midnight. By public transport, no less. No warping or high-speed flying for you, tonight.

But you appreciate it. And you think that Satoru is taking things slow for the same reasons you want to — to take things in, to appreciate what you never think to appreciate. To admire the mundane, even for a little while. Satoru’s less emotionally attached to the jujutsu-less aspects of life than you are — bullet trains and waiting in line and standing on the train platform, escalators and traffic — but he enjoys them all the same when he has time to. And it’s not often The Strongest gets to experience pure, genuine normality, too, so maybe sitting in this gaudy diner and watching the world pass you by is a luxury he rarely affords himself.

He orders the most complicated drink they have — a sakura-caramel milkshake topped with whipped cream, glacé cherries, and an entire slice of cheesecake. He’s down to the last dregs of melting cream within 10 minutes, swiping fries from your plate between sips, ignoring your chides of rotten teeth and high blood sugar.

Blindfold swapped for glasses. Strands of hair drifting down against his forehead. 

You’re always reminded at the worst times of how handsome he is. It’s not like it’s a secret, or he’s unaware of it — and he takes pride in his looks, if his extensive skincare shelf and general attitude is anything to go by — but he puts much more stock in his strength, in his usefulness to others, his intelligence. The things he can provide for others. Not many people realise that.

Maybe you shouldn’t act so high and mighty. It’s not like you don’t appreciate his appearance as much as the next person — hell, half the time you’re trying to stop it from distracting you — but maybe you get a pass. Y’know, as a person who actually has reason to marvel over the stretch of his neck and the flush of his cheeks and how his lips go the prettiest pink when you kiss him. Or the cords of muscle along his arms; the slender-yet-thick bands of muscle of his chest and legs. The large, veiny expanse of hand — slim, delicate fingers wrapped around a paper straw…

"Are you gonna eat those?" Says Satoru, slurping obnoxiously. “Haven't eaten since dinner."

You push the basket across the table, uncharacteristically void of argument. "Go crazy."

Satoru sets his empty glass aside, but the straw remains in one hand. The other he uses to pluck up fries, 4 or 5 at a time, his gaze suddenly fixed on you as he chews nonchalantly.

"Y'know," he says, licking salt from his fingertips, jabbing the straw in your direction, "I can always tell when you're horny."

"Excuse me?"

"You squirm," Satoru continues — matter-of-fact, casual, as if he's talking about the weather. "And you get quiet.”

“I’m a quiet person,” you snap, nails pressing against your palms under the table. “Sorry I know when to shut the fuck up—”

“And then you get flustered. And when you’re flustered, or embarrassed, you get angry.” He raises his hand — signals the cute waitress for another basket of fries, and leans back with his arms splayed along the back of the booth. “Don’t look so surprised! How long have we known each other?”

If you were a better person, you’d probably admit that yes, he’s right. You do get quiet when you’re horny, and you do get angry when you’re flustered — if you were a worse person, though, you’d remark on how you're the first person he crawls to when he’s sad, or overwhelmed. How getting you into bed and losing yourselves in each other is a sort of therapy for him. How he always tries to distract you with cheeky grins and sly, flirty comments, but then afterwards he cries in the bath as you clean him up. 

You don't say that, obviously. Seems like a pretty shitty thing to bring up today of all days. He'd probably deny it anyways, but you don't think it's a coincidence that the attack has left him restless and he obviously wants to take you home.

The new fries are delivered to the table, but he looks right past them. He bows his head slightly, glasses slipping a little further down his nose so that his white-framed eyes peek over the top of them. 

"Let's warp home," Satoru says — and oh. There's that voice. That drop in tone, that lack of boisterous humour he always employs. It's soft enough to have goosebumps rising on the back of your arms, smooth enough to have you squirming — yes, squirming, you admit it — in your seat. "Alright?"

"Yes." And it's embarrassingly breathless, and embarrassingly quick, but Satoru doesn't tease you. Just smiles, raises a hand for the bill, and watches you all the while.

7.

You count seven stitches in the forehead of Geto Suguru.

Count, because it's all you can do. Everything else is lost to you. 

Breathing.

Standing.

It feels like even your heart has stalled. Because—

Because—

Because Geto Suguru is dead. Dead, in the ground, no longer breathing, no longer living. Satoru had killed him. Satoru had demolished him.

The lips of the Geto in front of you twist — a sickening, stomach-turning imitation of the smile you once adored. On his face it's a sneer, a mockery. Your Suguru did not smile like this when you knew him.

"Hello," he greets pleasantly. His arms are hidden within the sleeves of his yukata. Hair down. Suguru always tended to wear his hair up, unless he was fresh out of the shower. Unless he was upset. It was too much hassle to take care of. You know when he took over the Time Vessel Association and donned the gojo-kesa he began wearing it down. "_____ _____, yes?"

You can't answer. Your ears are ringing. Your stomach gives a worrying lurch that winds up your throat — you think you're going to be sick. 

How? Why? Who — who is this in front of you? Because it's not Geto, not Suguru — and you don't say that because of longing or a pathetic desire for ignorance. This thing feels wrong. Inherently, blasphemously wrong. Looking at him for too long makes your cursed energy prickle. Seeing Suguru's image painted in such slimy, rancid energy has you gasping for breath.

Satoru, your mind whispers. Satoru needs to know.

He should. He needs to. But this pseudo-Geto does not look friendly in the slightest, and you are isolated.

Looking back, it had seemed fine to go alone to exorcise curses in the belly of Tokyo's metro. Taking old service tunnels and eventually entering abandoned tracks hadn't felt scary. You're a semi-special grade sorcerer with years of experience under your belt and a powerful cursed technique that could get you out of most, if not all, pinches, restrictions and regulations be damned.

"I'm sure you're very confused. I apologise, really…"

The reality of the situation hits you. Maybe hit is the wrong word — it doesn’t come as a bloody, stinging smack in the face. It’s a trickle of ice-cold water down the nape of your neck, drawing dread from your head all the way into the pit of your stomach. You don't think this is a pinch you'll come out of — at least not battered half to death, especially when a silver-haired curse decorated with stitches steps out from behind pseudo-Geto. The curse Kento had fought. The one that he said to look out for. Patchwork.

Immediately, you know fighting isn't an option. But what else is there to do, in the face of pseudo-Geto and his silver-haired, sentient curse? Your technique may not be limitless in your possession, but in theirs? If they did to you what they did to so many others — transfiguring you past the point of recognition, stealing your body and technique, desecrating your corpse with cursed energy…

"I can feel it from here," titters the curse excitedly. "So warm… I have to have it! Her soul, I have to have it!"

Fuck.

You could try to escape, but you wouldn't have enough time to run past them and through the winding corridors of the underground, even while distracting them with your cursed technique. They'd catch you within seconds. You’re sure they have curses lurking around waiting to thwart you, too.

You could burst directly into the layers of concrete and metal above — use your technique to revert them back millions and millions and years to their very first forms, atoms and subatomic particles, and then rebuild them up as an ascending platform — but that would take too much time, and you'd be completely defenceless while you did. Not to mention the toll it'd take on you.

(Not to mention the fact that you'd be bursting into the public eye from a giant crater in the ground.)

"I'm sure you know what I'm going to do," continues pseudo-Geto, amiable. "I would ask you to join us, but I know that is impossible. Therefore, there is only one course of action."

Can't fight. Can't escape. Can't get answers. Can't stay clueless. How contradictory.

You're not dying, that's all you know. And if you have to do the one thing you never wanted to do, then so be it. Anything is better than death. Death is not an escape, in this scenario — it’s a guarantee of imprisonment.

"It's a shame," pseudo-Geto sighs, bloodlust swelling. "Such a waste of a good technique."

You make a Binding Vow with yourself within seconds.

Using a magnitude of cursed energy usually out of your reach, your entire body will be reduced to atoms — intangible, untrappable, unkillable — for as long as it takes to retreat to safety. In return, you will be unable to think, unable to move according to your own will, only a mere pawn to entropy as the rest of the galaxy is — high risk, high reward.

There are many things that could go wrong.

In reducing yourself to essentially nothing, in splitting your cursed energy into billions of particles, you could reach a state of such low cursed energy concentration that you are, for all terms and purposes, considered dead. In doing so, your Binding Vow could break, and you would be unable to return to living. 

Or you could float for days, weeks, years — safety is subjective, subjective is dangerous when it comes to contracts, and you can only hope that your own understanding of it sets the standard.

It's either this, this fleeting, terrifying chance, or death. With one, you can return to your school, your students, your Satoru — you can tell them what happened. You can bring justice to whoever has disturbed Suguru from his slumber. With the other — nothing. Just plain, utter nothingness forever and ever.

(You know which you'd rather.)

The last thing you recall, in spotty haziness, is the heart-stopping sight of Suguru surging towards you, eyes bloodthirsty, face contorted in malice. 

The last thing you hope is that Satoru isn't too upset about the risk you've taken.

8.

Eight days after your solo mission, you resurface — a discombobulated, stumbling mess on the outskirts of Shibuya, eyes glazed and mouth stuttering over syllables. A nearby Window calls the college within seconds, and Gojo is there just as soon — hands shaking when he grasps your arm and turns you to face him, fingers trembling when he cups your cheeks and brushes them under your eyes.

It’s you. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you, and he can breathe, he can fucking breathe, his chest is lighter than it’s been for those entire 8 days — all the while, he burns with an anger so intense it hurts. And Satoru is no stranger to anger, of course — knows it as intimately as he knows himself — but he's not sure if he can remember the last time it had rendered him breathless, trembling. Bloodthirsty.

It's not the time to think about it. Not when you're shaking in his arms, so frail and weak everywhere except your hands — no, your hands remain strong, fingers digging into his clothes and skin. He turns off his Infinity. The sting of your touch grounds him.

Shoko is already waiting in the clinic for him — she’d been preparing ever since the call first came in. The students (the ones on campus, at least) crowd together at a distance, buzzing anxiously as Satoru disappears swiftly into the depths of the infirmary with you in his arms.

Bad things happen often. Too often. Satoru isn’t sure whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing that they haven’t gotten used to it yet.

“Gibberish,” Satoru answers when Shoko asks if you’ve said anything competent since he picked you up. “Just gibberish.”

Shoko is poking and prodding you with the usual doctor's shit — stethoscopes and thermometers and that blood pressure band that goes around your arm — and you just lay there and take it. Head rocking side to side, limbs trembling, mouth lolling open, and Satoru's trying not to lose his head because what good is taking your temperature? Do you look like you have a fucking cold? Is the way your eyes focus and unfocus normal? The way you can’t string together two syllables that make fucking sense?

But even with how he can see your cells malfunctioning all over your body, Shoko knows more about this shit than him. So he sits pretty on her swivelling chair, twisting back and forth, body the image of boredom but mind anything but. Time and time again, he’s reminded of how unprejudiced tragedy is — how it leaves no hint, no mark of itself, no time to prepare for the toll of it all. 

Satoru had greeted you briefly before you’d left. Said something about getting lunch together, that you better be careful because you were treating him — the same shit he said time and time again, his real plea hidden within the folds and twists of his jokes and quips. Be careful. Don’t die. I can’t lose you. You’re precious to me.

You’ll be okay. You have to be — he won’t allow anything otherwise. But if he’d known last week that you’d end up like this, would he have said those things out loud? He doesn’t think so. He’s cowardly in that way.

A few moments later, Shoko straightens up. Immediately reaches into the pocket of her lab coat and pulls out a cigarette and a rusting lighter, and is puffing out clouds of bitter air just seconds later. 

Shit. That’s not a good sign.

Shoko sighs. Rubs at her dark undereye circles and only makes them worse, taps her cigarette so that the ash falls to the floor. “I know what it is.”

Well fucking tell him instead of keeping it in!

“Oh?” Satoru says instead, leaning forward onto his knees. “What is it, then?”

“She used her technique on herself.”

“She does that all the time to heal."

“She didn’t heal herself,” Shoko snaps — and Satoru remembers that he’s not the only person you’re important to. That while he and Suguru had gotten ahead of themselves being the strongest, they’d left you and Shoko to stroll humbly along your own paths. The only girls in their year. The only person Shoko could fully confide in, really — at least in Tokyo —, the only person who had bothered to check up on her when she drank too much, smoked too much. Even if Shoko hated it. 

Shoko is upset. Satoru doesn't what to do with it.

(Alcohol — she likes alcohol. Satoru reminds himself to pick up the most expensive bottle of the stuff the next time he's out.)

(No. She’s trying not to drink so much, isn’t she?)

(Whatever. Life is short.)

“She dissipated herself.”

Satoru knows about your technique intimately enough that it immediately gives him pause — but he runs over the details in his head, just in case, as if it isn’t already imprinted on the flesh of his skull.

Your cursed technique allows you to disassemble items down to their most basic units — subatomic particles — while your reverse cursed technique allows you to reassemble them. Items can be reassembled into their previous form, or to another related form, but you cannot exceed the item’s natural entropy threshold. If you do, the item cannot be reverted back to a physical state, and you will bear the brunt of the resulting shift in energy.

It's a finicky technique. Finicky and fickle and the risks tend to outweigh the rewards — but you'd always used it so elegantly, so gracefully. Even when you doubted yourself, you had a handle on it. Satoru admired that about you.

("You don't say I'm powerful. You say I'm helpful. There's a difference."

You'd said that to him once, when he brought you and Yuuji to lunch. You'd acted like it didn't bother you but he could tell it did — he didn't need his Six Eyes to notice how your nose twitched and your eyes narrowed, displeased. 

But Satoru believes in two types of helpfulness. 

The kind he is — powerful, needed, a force to be reckoned with. Someone that keeps things afloat, that acts as a beacon in the dark.

Then there's the other kind. The usefulness of pawns, of bait. Necessary, but not fundamental. Desired, sure, but rarely crucial.

You've always been the first. Always. You and him and Suguru and Shoko, always. Even he could admit that.)

You disassembled yourself into atoms. Into nothingness. You lost your mind, your body, your energy, everything—

Satoru sighs. He's been doing that a lot today.

“I didn’t know she could do that,” Satoru says. His throat is covered in a layer of sawdust. He can’t remember the last time he had to actually focus on not throwing up. “Why would she do that?”

“She talked about it, before,” Shoko says. She leans against the bed you’re laying on, gazing over her shoulder — and the way she looks at you turns his stomach, the upturn of her brows, the sad downturn of her mouth. It’s as if you’re already dead. As if she’s looking at a living corpse. “Just… as a theory. A last resort to help her get away, if needed, but—”

“But what?”

“She knew she didn’t have the power for it,” Shoko mutters. Breathes another puff of cigarette smoke. “If she tried, she'd end up just… fading away. In breaking herself up, she'd negate the cursed energy that gives her the power to put herself together.

"And the side effects would be… well, you can see that for yourself. Stupid, so fucking stupid…”

“Well, obviously she has the power for it,” Satoru murmurs. “Or made the power for it.”

“A binding vow?”

Satoru shrugs. Clenches his jaw, watching as you scratch at the faux-leather underneath you. “It'd make sense. Explains how she put herself back together."

(But for what? What could have driven you to such lengths? 

A curse like Jogo wouldn't be all too difficult for you to defeat.

So who…?)

Shoko hums. She stares into space for a moment, eyes unfocused, and for a moment Satoru sees her younger self — the one who just started smoking, just started drinking, who carried the weight of all the people she healed (and those she'd failed to) tucked in her pocket. The Shoko that would make sarcastic quips and humble them when they needed humbling, but humour them when she knew the outcome would be funny.

A time when they had very little responsibility. Even him, shackled with it since birth. Comparing his duty from then to now is like comparing a boulder to the weight of the world.

He feels very old, suddenly, at 28.

"There's nothing I can do for her," Shoko says, softly. Regretfully. "If she did make a binding vow, I can only assume she made a condition about returning to normal. If so…"

Satoru can’t do anything about it, basically, she explains. Your condition is one that will only heal with time, patience, and the odd boost from Shoko’s technique. Maybe, she says — she's still unsure about that last bit.

It sickens him. It festers as a deep, curdling annoyance in his bones, his uselessness. It’s a sensation he had only felt once before, standing before the slumped-over body of Geto Suguru. Nothing he could do for him except put him out of his misery, and even then that felt like a cop-out.

So… he can't go directly after the thing that had forced your hand, because they had left no trace. He can't heal you, either. He can't take care of you while your body repairs itself, while your supposed binding vow returns you to your rightful state — that duty will fall to Shoko, or one of her interns. 

He can do nothing. And Satoru is nothing if he cannot be of use.

9.

Nine months after the events of the culling games, Satoru enters your room to see you sitting up — eyes wide, eyes seeing, and it only takes you fixing him with a single look to know that you're okay. 

(Subjectively. Relatively.)

Suguru Getou — Kenjaku — is finally dead — exorcised. He’s not sure which is the right word to use. All of his allies, killed or exorcised too. Nanami, murdered. Nobara, comatose. Yaga, dead. Inumaki, Maki, Okkotsu, maimed; the great houses of sorcery destroyed and rebuilt in the image of Satoru’s will. 

Itadori Yuuji — dead. Sukuna Ryomen — exorcised.

Adding up the gains, subtracting the losses, carrying the ones… Both sides seem to have lost pretty evenly. And he should be happy about it, too; things could have turned out much worse. And they would have, too, if he hadn’t pushed himself out of his pouting and escaped the prison realm — a feat that was half out of spite and half concern for the outside world, and maybe a little curiosity. Rage. Longing to see the bastard who’d stolen Suguru’s face and body, who dared to reanimate him and rouse him from peace — longing to slaughter the thing that had rendered you bedridden and half-mad for months.

He had been the one to kill Kenjaku. It only felt right to be the one to do so — he’d killed Suguru, after all; had been the one to leave him defenceless and open to manipulation. If Suguru hadn’t been dead, Kenjaku wouldn’t have been able to steal his body. 

Of course, Satoru ignored the fact that the very last rotten, desperate dregs of Suguru would have enjoyed Kenjaku’s plan — it was the only way he was able to keep his eyes open when he blasted his brain to bits. It was hard enough the first time.

All of these things sit on his tongue, bitter and souring and curdling — every detail of the battle, of the culling games, the colleagues and peers and students he’d held in his arms, the ones he’d comforted as they slipped away, the ones he’d reassured and promised. 

(Pink, blood-covered hair; a smile that never dimmed, a nervous murmur (“It’s okay, Gojo-sensei. I know what I got into.”). The shaky laugh that had followed.)

Satoru’s hands tremble at his sides.

Your eyes are wet with tears when you look at him. 

“How long has it been?” You croak — voice dry and cracked with disuse, whining in some parts, low and wheezing in others. Bone-deep, the fear in your voice, and for good reason — things had already been at a boiling point when you’d been taken down. Everything had moved past you. “Satoru—?”

Another selfish decision on his part: he doesn’t tell you. At least, not now, when the words threaten to vomit out of his mouth, when the pain is suddenly too fresh and too raw. 

(For one strange, too-long second, he’s reminded of his mother — weak, presence-less, powerless as she was. Empty-eyed and unhappy. She was hardly even a mother with the amount of governesses he had.

Somehow, though, every problem would seem worse when her eyes were upon him; every cut and bruise was more painful; every slight against him a grave insult; every mistake a cause for self-pity and temper tantrums — and none of it mattered, as long as she took him into her arms.

A rarity, yes, but… maybe one of the only fond memories he has of his childhood in the Gojo household.

Satoru feels like a kid again — suddenly sniffling from a bruise he swore didn’t hurt, his mother ready to pat his head and baby him and coo his name. Satoru. Not Gojo-sama.)

He crosses the room and plants himself upon your bed and takes you into his arms for the first time in months, and—

And for the first time since Yuuji’s death, since Nanami’s, since Suguru’s, since your injuries—

He cries. Openly. Heaving, chest-wrecking sobs; red, wet nose and ugly whimpers. It’s overwhelming. It’s cathartic. It makes the pain worse, for a second, before it begins to taper out in a bruising wave; with it, he remembers his darling underclassmen who died, his colleagues that he’d wanted to live at least a few more years; he remembers that despite years of being told so, he’s not God — he couldn’t stop Yuuji’s death, or Suguru’s, or Toge losing his arms, or—

“Thirteen months,” he manages to get out. “Thirteen months — you couldn’t talk, or move properly, or—”

Satoru grabs handfuls of you — hair, waist, belly, it doesn’t matter. He can feel you beneath his skin. Rushing, pounding blood, cells, micromolecules — and he doesn’t need to, but he engages his Six Eyes for a moment — actually engages them, doesn’t let them run unconsciously in the background. It’s a comfort to let himself see each receptor interact with each signal on each plasma membrane, to let himself see the tissues that formed organs that formed organ systems forming you, breathing, living, sentient—

He kisses you — or you kiss him, he’s not sure — but it’s far more intimate, far more tender than any touch he’d delivered unto you; hands clutching the sides of your face, your fingers digging into his wrists. You’re crying, salt on his tongue — and he only knows they’re not his own tears because you give a great, shuddering sob when you part, trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

“I had to,” you gasp, and he wants to tell you that he knows, he knows, he doesn’t blame you, sweet girl — did what you had to do to live, to survive— “I had to—”

“Only go where I can follow, okay?" His eyes are burning again, voice cracking with the promise, regardless of the fact that he’d rather you do it 100 times over than die. But it's the only way he can tell you he loves you without telling you he loves you, and he can't remember the last time he said the words aloud.

(He does. He remembers. And he remembers that Suguru wouldn't mind if he said it to you — that Suguru loved you as he loves you. And he remembers that Suguru is dead and doesn't have an opinion anymore, so it really doesn't matter, anyways.)

Satoru calls Shoko when he rights himself, barely pulling back from your embrace to text her something barely understandable and hurried. You don't say much while he does; still acclimating to being aware, being awake — he catches you with your eyes screwed shut and your nose buried in his jacket, fingers tight on his arms again. Grounding yourself. Reminding yourself that you're alive, and with him.

Shoko scolds you between rummaging around for a thermometer and scribbling your prescription in messy, barely legible cursive — calls you a dumb bitch for doing what you did, tells you that you owe her a bottle of wine and a trip to a fancy hot spring, and it all seems a little lighter.

(She cries a little — if the slight glassiness of her eyes can be considered crying. Satoru only teases her a bit for it, though you're quick to mention how he'd blubbered like a baby when he saw you, and he's humbled quickly.

It's the most normal he's felt in weeks.)

Shoko clears away after a few hours — gives you strict orders to rest, and sends him a knowing look that he's not all too sure of the meaning of. 

"You look tired, Satoru," you finally say when you're alone again. Your smile is sad, knowing, and Satoru curses it all. You deserve a grace period, a moment of ignorance before the grief settles in. "What happened?"

But when have you ever wanted a moment of ignorance? When has he ever been able to hide the truth of things from you? When have you ever been anything but his equal, his confidant?

"Everything," Satoru says. A short, humourless laugh punctuates his single-worded sentence. "Everything, crybaby. Everything that we thought could happen, and everything we thought couldn't."

A flicker of a smile — uncomfortable, flat. Your eyes flicker down to the bland, starched sheets of the hospital bed. "Did you see him?"

He doesn't need you to elaborate. There's really only one person you both mean when you say him.

"Yes."

"Who was he?"

Satoru shifts in his seat. "An ancient sorcerer named Kenjaku. His cursed technique allowed him to transplant his brain between bodies and possess them."

"And he chose Suguru."

"Yes. And many others, too."

"And you killed him."

"Yes. For Suguru, and for you. But mostly for Suguru.”

“I’m glad,” you say, but your fingers twist the sheets tightly. “When I saw him, I was angry. So angry, I… I wanted to kill him. I knew I wasn’t strong enough, and I knew he would kill me, but for a second—”

He understands. God, does he understand. “You wanted to take the risk.” No matter the cost, no matter the damage to your own body. Anger like that consumes.

“I did.” You swallow. Your eyes meet his. “It was like… adding insult to injury. As if it’s not enough that Suguru is dead, but this — this Kenjaku has to puppeteer him too. Disturb his peace."

The wind rustles the trees outside. The late-afternoon gold of the sun settles along the horizon, a burning orange that stretches the shadows and warms the wind and turns the side of your face honey-soft and sad.

“But I realised that I was probably the first person he’d revealed himself to," you continue, "so I was the only one that could warn you."

Always thinking about the good of others. It was another thing he admired about you — Nanami, too. Satoru, for all his big talk about changing the world of jujutsu, about being better than those who came before him, is really quite selfish. 

It's why his hands had trembled when he'd had to kill Yuuji. It's why he couldn't put Suguru in the ground the first time they met after he became a curse user. Even when he knows things are necessary, he tries his damnedest to hold on — just for the chance of it all. The chance that Suguru could change his mind. The chance that Sukuna could be removed from Yuuji without him needing to die. 

"And…”

One snow-white brow raises. “And?”

“You’ve already lost too many people that you love,” you say simply, shrugging — like it's a simple fact, no need for experimentation, no need for an academic paper complete with its own abstract and footnotes. Like you've always known, in some little way, but you're only able to bring yourself to say it now.

And Satoru — well, it's no secret to him, is it? He's known it since he was 13, 14, 15 — had a bit of a buffering period, sure — and now here at 28, he knows it just as well. The point is that you're not supposed to know. Not while you're still healing from Suguru and… being attacked by fake-Suguru.

Regardless of what he knows and how long he's known it, Satoru feels his throat begin to close up, twisting and turning and holding his breath tight. He doesn’t like the feeling.

“Love?” He echoes. His voice has gotten a little empty. It's too soon for him to say it aloud, he thinks. It was okay when he whispered it in his head after making love to you; it was easy when he grinned at your scrunched up nose and scoffed comments and thought fuck, I love you. It was easy when he could pretend it was a simple, passing comment, a trick of the mind — but having it said as fact? 

Not so simple. But you don’t need to know that. “Is that so?"

You don't seem to notice his momentary pause — a lifetime of rambling in his time, a second's hesitation in regular time — too busy staring at the space where his fingers stretch apart over the sheets. Just inches away from yours. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Oh.

"Oh." Satoru blinks back. "Oh, yeah. Best friends, you and I, crybaby."

"I know it's normal for us," you say, ploughing ahead, "to just lose and lose and keep losing, but… I'll be honest. I never fully got used to it, and I don't want to."

He wishes he could say the same, but he can't.

He understands, in some capacity. Nobody wants to see the people around them die, a continuous and vicious cycle. Nobody wants to get so used to loss that most funerals no longer hold any emotional significance. But getting used to it had saved him. Getting used to it helped him act without consequence, without remorse, and that's what the battlefield both needs and requires of him.

He could count on both hands the people he wants to save in this world — about half of them were dead, at this point. A lot of them died while he was imprisoned. Two, he had to kill himself. He swore he'd protect the rest with all Six Eyes, every non-existent boundary of his Limitless.

So Satoru doesn't care much about getting used to death and dying and loss and grief. As long as you're okay, he's okay. As long as his job as the Strongest is done, everything is as it should be.

He doesn't say that to you, of course. You'd probably curse him out and call him a heartless bastard. Instead, he nods, hums and agrees and tells you the names of those who died when you work up the courage to ask.

It's a long night. It's an even longer list.

10.

Shoko keeps you for observation for 10 days after you wake up — three days longer than necessary, but she won't hear it from him, no matter how many times he reminds her that technically she falsified her degree—

He's joking. Mostly.

Satoru volunteers himself to help you back home, taking with you the plastic bag filled with your cleaned sorcerer's garb and weapon. He carries it over his shoulder along with two teddy bears, a half-wilted bouquet of tulips and a half-eaten box of chocolates (all courtesy of the second years — except for the chocolates, which are half-eaten because of him). He winds his other arm around your waist even though you can walk perfectly fine, but — it's just in case. Purely precautionary. For once, you don’t argue about being babied.

In the midday sun outside, you tilt your head back and close your eyes and smile. For a moment, it's as if the sadness has melted away from you — the tears you shed over Yuuji, Nanami, Suguru. The tears you shed over him, and he wasn't even dead. Satoru is glad your eyes are closed — even beneath his sunglasses, it's painfully obvious that he's staring.

You decide to take the subway home — it's my first time outside in almost a year, you remind him, so he pushes down any arguments he might have and enjoys the too-cramped journey towards Akihabara. You’re both shoved standing together, between a panicked looking man holding a tray of coffee and a woman with her child hanging about her legs, your head bobbing against his chest as the train moves. 

For a moment — as the train passes momentarily out of the underground and becomes encapsulated in light — it's easy to drown in the normalcy of it all. For a moment, he sees himself looking in as a stranger would. Here, he isn't the Six Eyes; just a simple man taking his girlfriend home, standing close on the train, wishing to be closer. Riding home to your shared apartment where he'll peel oranges and feed them to you, where he'll lay his head in your lap and hold your hands to his heart.

His nose wrinkles. He prefers reality, he thinks, where he can be powerful and have you by his side; where he can protect you, uphold peace, change the jujutsu world for the best — and then go home all the same, and have you to hold.

"What are you thinking about?" You mumble against his collar.

"Oranges," he replies.

"I don't have any at home," you say, "or if I did, they're rotted."

"Don't worry — we cleaned your kitchen up. Me and the kids." It was an afternoon of Yuuji attempting to shove rotting potatoes in Nobara's face. That was before Shibuya; before everything, really.

"Oh? You got your hands dirty?"

Satoru tries to not think about that same beaming, smiling Yuuji's last breaths. "Of course! This is me we're talking about, honey. I was front and centre."

You snort, soft against his neck. It's a wonder he went almost a year without you. "Housewife Satoru. I'll keep it in mind."

When you return to your apartment, you shower together for the first time in forever. He spends extra time and care massaging shampoo into your scalp, detangling each knot; spends extra time rinsing the suds out, tilting your head back with a gentle tap to your chin. 

Steam clogs his mind. Almond shower oil and citrusy shampoo fog his senses. The realisation that you could have potentially been taken away from him sits heavy like a stone in his stomach — why it hadn't sunk in in the past, oh, 13 months or so, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he's terribly bad at caring for precious things — but if he could, if it's possible, he'll remould and reshape his hands, his heart, his mind, just for the chance—

"Satoru," you breathe against his lips, "Bow your head."

(Bow your head, you say. He'd kneel if you asked him to.)

You brush your hands through his hair; rinse him free of suds and bubbles and kiss his temples as you shut off the water. What is supposed to be healing for you is quickly becoming therapy for him — muscles relaxing, mind clearing of all responsibilities, mournings, obligations. All he knows are the soft, newly washed sheets beneath him and your nose in the crook of his neck.

It's a strange sensation, the lack of tension, his brain not working overtime. But hardly unwelcome.

11.

Satoru asks you if you saw anything when you were indisposed. Memories, flashbacks, prophecies? Blurry half-truths, nonsensical babbling? You tell him that you can't really remember — and you can't, not really, but you do remember one thing.

When you were 11, you met Satoru and Suguru for the first time. It's that memory that you can remember playing in your head, over and over and over again: Satoru and Suguru, scrawny and still-faced in their yukata. 

Satoru was from a great, traditional house. Suguru was not, but upon discovery of his powers, was taken into unofficial custody of the higher-ups. In most circumstances, you wouldn’t have been allowed within two feet of them — but the elders had deemed your cursed technique a great gift, and so you were warily accepted into the upper echelons of jujutsu society, a stranger, a foreigner.

Introducing you to the most powerful sorcerers your age was nothing more than political play, of course. The adults followed behind as you walked through the grand grounds of the Gojo family — (maintained by a team of 12 gardeners, according to the Lady of the house) — muttering and scheming between themselves, making sure nothing would go awry.

Nothing did, of course. Satoru picked his nose and Suguru told him it was rude and they bickered for a while — Satoru bickered, Suguru replied calmly and quickly. Satoru asked you if your technique was good or bad ("No such thing," interjected Suguru) and whether or not you think you could beat him in a fight. 

(That last question was to stroke his own ego, of course. Everyone knew he was the strongest sorcerer born in the last century.)

At some point, Satoru made you cry. 

You can't remember what about, all these years later — you'd think you'd remember, considering the fact that you know the amount of gardeners employed by the Gojo estate — but you know that you had tried to stop it; fists balled, teeth gritted, full-body heaves. Crying was the last thing you had wanted to do. Crying meant weakness. Weakness meant being taken advantage of.

But you were so scared. It was all so alien. You wanted to go home, but home didn’t exist anymore. You wanted your mother, but your mother was long gone. All you had left were stone-faced adults that were only interested in your abilities. 

Suguru had been confused at your reaction to what he took as a harmless quip — a little callous, as most children are — but he had reassured you nonetheless.

"Don’t cry. Satoru speaks before he thinks," he'd said, nudging your shoulder. "Sometimes you have to ignore him and he'll be so bored that he has to think."

"I can hear you," Gojo huffed. "I didn't mean to."

"See?" Suguru smiled. "Works like a charm."

Yes, Suguru had always been there to protect you. Emotionally, at least. He was willing to be kinder to people. More gentle, more forgiving. He'd believed that it was his duty as a sorcerer to protect those that couldn't protect themselves, and—

Well. That had changed, by the end, but having that memory replay in your head made you see the bigger picture of it all. Suguru's place in things. Your place in things.

You'd loved Suguru, no doubt. And you’ll probably always carry a piece of him with you — you'd hate to do otherwise. You’ll carry his kindness and his jokes and his catlike smile, all tucked away in bubble wrap somewhere in your chest cavity — but you will never disregard his wrongdoings. Since his death, you'd argued against the two sides of him; felt guilty for loving him after what he did, felt guilty for hating him after loving him and knowing him for as long as you did. Two halves of a whole. Darkness in light and light in darkness.

He was both of those things. You love him, but you don’t forgive him, and you probably never will. He will never again be the boy that comforted you after Satoru made you cry; he will never again be the boy who let you braid his hair back. He won't be the boy who slaughtered innocents, either — death's funny like that. Indiscriminately doing away with both the good and the bad.

And that's okay. Kenjaku is dead, after all, and Suguru can finally rest — and with him, your warring mind.

12.

Midnight strikes and you're still awake. You don’t even seem tired, and that's after a long shower and takeout and a movie. Usually you'd be a drooling mess by now, but tonight is different. Feels different. Satoru isn’t sure if it's just a year's worth of built up sexual tension or something else, but he feels it regardless. 

He's flopped on his stomach, hair still damp; you're curled up in the shape of a C, skin reflecting the light of the TV. He might visit Nobara tomorrow. Megumi usually goes on Wednesdays, too — they could make a day out of it, and you could tag along, too. He's got a craving for the pistachio macarons they sell near—

"I'm in love with you," you announce. 

Satoru doesn't bother asking you to repeat yourself because he knows he didn’t mishear. It isn't the knowing that shocks him — he's not stupid, and you wear your heart on your sleeve — it's the sudden, quick verbal affirmation of it that catches him off guard. After all, haven’t you two been putting this all off? Yearning for a dead man? Being pulled from two opposing poles?

He turns his head towards you, opens his mouth to ask you just that, and—

"After Suguru, I thought I'd never be happy again," you say, and you’re smiling like you didn't just say something inherently heartbreaking. But no, you look fond — content, even, blinking slowly at him. "And I thought I'd never feel for someone as strong as I did for him. But here I am: happy, and in love, and okay."

Satoru opens his mouth — then closes it quickly. For some reason, he remembers something Suguru said to you when you were younger: "Satoru speaks before he thinks." But he wants to think about this — about what he should say. How does he respond to you quite literally baring your heart to him? How does he tell you what he wants to tell you, what you deserve to hear? He's never been good with real, genuine words — emotional shit never came easy to him out loud. His thoughts are much more concise than his mouth is, but he guesses it's because it moves so fast in comparison.

Pity you can't read his mind. It'd make things much easier. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” but he wants to, don't you know? "You don't have to pretend. It’s okay. I know that… maybe you don’t love me as much as you loved Suguru, but I know you love me in some way, at least—”

Satoru frowns — strings of ideas and thoughts bunching up and stopping short as your words register. “As much as I— hey, stop putting words in my mouth—"

"The truth is," you continue on, "I feel lighter than I have in years. I don't dread life so much anymore. I don't dread you anymore."

"You… dreaded me?"

You hum. Your legs stretch down, arms forward, face scrunched up in a passing yawn. "I'm not stupid to think you didn’t know how I felt, but… I hated that I was so obvious about it. Even when I was fighting with myself about it, I was obvious. It made me hate being around you, sometimes."

You sigh, then — not as heavy and melancholy as they used to be, no. This is a sigh of relief, of cathartic release. 

Satoru blinks, and attempts to wade through the seventy-or-so compulsions telling him to make a joke, to laugh, to tease you. Maybe he should actually be serious for once. Say it straight and say it firm, so you can't take anything the wrong way. If there was ever a time for him to not beat around the bush…

"I've liked you since I was 17," he confesses, finally. "Me and Suguru, we were together, y’know, and we were happy. And Suguru loved you, and somewhere along the line I… began to do the same, but we were so young and then… Everything changed so fast. Everything broke so fast.”

Your fingers brush against his, and he breathes in a sigh. Your eyes are wide and watery, low light reflecting like glitter in your eyes. 

"Sometimes, it keeps me up at night," Satoru says, laughing a pained sort of laugh. "Out of everything, that's what keeps me up — that we could've been happy together, all three of us. It never would’ve been enough to make him change, but…"

At least you would’ve known what it was like. To be happy together in that way. To be content. To find your places in the world, hand and hand. To know what it was like — even if Suguru’s fall from grace was inevitable — so you wouldn’t have to keep wondering until your untimely, gruesome, sorcerer-style deaths, or whatever. 

Back then, Satoru didn’t understand why Suguru never told you how he felt. He couldn't understand how he could be content watching from afar, looking but never touching. What Satoru wanted, he learned to take; the Strongest didn’t need to ask for permission, only forgiveness. 

He learned quickly that some things were better left unsaid. And now, 28 years old, half of his friends, students, colleagues dead — he understands even more. 

He remembers how Yuuji had tried to stave off tears when he realised he had to die; remembers how his student’s throat had felt being crushed in his hands. He loved Yuuji like a little brother. Like a son, even. He was family. He was his student, and yet his death had been necessary, and Satoru battled with it. It allowed him to succeed in the mission he was born to complete. But he had given up Yuuji in return.

There is no curse more twisted than love.

Therein lays the problem, he supposes. The second you love someone, you run the risk of having them end up like Yuuji did. Like Suguru did. Like Nanami did. When you are burdened with incredible power like Satoru is — like Suguru was — you must be able to sacrifice for it. The closer that people are, the more likely they are to be caught in the crossfire, the more likely you are to be hurt. Suguru hoped to avoid that at all costs. It was easier to watch from afar, less painful. 

Satoru is a tad more selfish. Which is bad, he knows, because he's too prepared to sacrifice. Even now. Even now, he knows that if caught between saving you and saving society, he would be forced to — to—

Satoru inhales. The only thing for it is to simply stop things from getting that far. 

He could explain all this to you. He could talk circles around you about it, in fact, but the truth is that it's all conjecture. Suguru isn’t here to tell him why he did what he did. He can’t speak for him, no matter how well he knew him.

"I don't know why Suguru never told you," Satoru says instead. He folds his fingers tighter, taking yours in his grip as he does so. "Guess that's something he took with him to the grave."

"I've stopped wondering," you say. “I’ll never stop regretting, but I’ve stopped wondering. I can’t stay rooted in the past any more. It was doing more harm than good."

And you raise your interlocked hands — nestle them under your chin and screw your eyes shut, like you're wishing on the evening star, like he's something precious to be treasured. All of a sudden he's 17 and confused about why he can't stop staring at you. He doesn’t have Suguru to tease him about it, now.

“I’ll never forget him,” Satoru announces — a warning, or a reassurance, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s telling the truth and nothing but the truth, and whether or not you like his truth is not his concern. He respects you too much to lie about this to you.

Your lips twitch upwards, a phantom of a smile. “Neither will I. "

"I'll never forget you, either."

The smile grows, blooms, blossoms, until it stretches bright and full across your face. The first smile of yours he's seen in a while that wasn't at half-mast, or tinged with sadness, or pain, or fatigue.

"How lucky I am," you whisper, "to be known by you, Gojo Satoru."

It should be the other way around, he thinks.

(12.5.

It's the first time he makes love in years.

Satoru has always fucked you. Always. No matter how tired you both were, no matter how injured — he'd always force himself to be rougher, force his touches to not linger as much as he wanted them to.

If he felt too much, he'd crack a joke instead of drowning in it; if he felt his eyes beginning to burn he'd bury his nose in the crook of your neck and push it down. If he thought of long, dark hair and cat-like eyes, he'd tighten your grip in his hair and the shock of pain would clear his mind. He fucked quick, and when he was done he'd lay far away enough that he couldn't feel your skin against his.

Tonight, he lets himself love and be loved again. 

You're on top of him, ass flush against his thighs, taking every inch he has to give you; his hands have found your jaw, thumbs brushing back and forth across your dewy, sweat-slick cheeks. One hand of yours clasps around his wrist; the other bands to his chest, nails digging red into his skin. Your cursed energy blooms, flushes, flourishes when he opens his eyes to look at you. 

He sees every pore, every hair, every dimple, every broken capillary, every scratch and scrape. Every part of you, bending to him in some places, unfalteringly stubborn in others. 

"Look at you," he mumbles, blinking dumbly. "So… pretty…"

You snort something like a laugh, and continue: up, down, up, down. Slow, grinding gyrations of your hips that make his head spin pleasantly; and with his Limitless nullified, he feels every inch of skin, every tensing of muscle, every scrape and press fully and completely. He’s never felt so engulfed in it before — the sensations of it all, the warmth, your scent, your weight above him.

He'd drown in you, if he could. Take you in his mouth and nose and ears and everywhere, until he's left gasping for air and grappling for something of substance. Maybe once upon a time he would keep those thoughts to himself, for whatever reason — but now he's allowed to be selfish in his affections, allowed to give more than surface-level compliments and vague declarations of love.

Between pleasure-ridden shudders and sloppy, wet kisses, he breathes:

"I want you everywhere," he says, "All the time. Over me, on me, in me—"

You raise a brow, impudent and teasing in a way that makes his abdomen tighten. "In you?"

And maybe he didn’t mean it in the way that you took it, but he plays along anyways, waggling his brows. "You heard me."

"You're terrible."

"I'm not joking," Satoru argues — but it’s hard to take him seriously when his voice quietens, when he arches up eagerly to meet your lips— 

When his grip on your lower back becomes painfully tight, when his lips part in a moan and his eyes screw shut and he throws his head back, hips rutting up to meet yours, and—

His peak rises to greet him — and his heart swells all the while. He finds himself clawing for you as his orgasm builds, hands clambering against your back, your neck, your hair, until (with a great, shaking breath, may he add): "Fuck, I — mmf, I love you—"

It carries him off to a state of fuzzy, empty-minded ignorance — pleasure tightening his entire body, fizzling from the tips of his fingers to his curling toes. Your name on his tongue, slurred and mellifluous, his smile dizzy and drunk. 

As you smile down at him, so unbearably fond, Satoru thinks that he doesn’t mind saying I love you aloud after all.)

#gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk angst #satosugu angst #satoru smut #geto x reader #geto angst #anime x reader #anime smut #anime angst #gojo fic #jjk fic #jjk x you #gojo x you #reading back over readers technique is suchhhhhh a trip #like blahblahblahblahblah yeah rock on little dude whatever u say #what was i on fr

[galedekarios]

elminster & gale

more datamined dialogue, this time idle banter between elminster and gale. as the dev notes indicate, these were supposed to take place at the beginning of act ii when elminster reveals the charge given to him by mystra for gale:

elminster: it took some doing, finding you. gale: well now you've found me, perhaps you can share your purpose. (node context: some impatience) elminster: have mercy on these old bones, m'boy. a short respite will not harm us.

elminster: i am glad to talk to you again, m'boy. even under such circumstances. (node context: sincere) gale: as am i. (node context: sincere) elminster: it is important to cherish everyone conversation as if it were the last - for it could very well be the last. (node context: considering that this may be the last time he ever sees gale)

elminster: it comes with age. along with some less-desirable traits... gale: please. i do not need to hear of your joint aches and privy sorties again. (node context: 'not this again') elminster: very well. not everyone finds such matters as fascinating as i do... (node context: slightly displeased grumble)

gale: you may be proven incorrect - time is not on my side, i fear. (node context: a little grim) elminster: i know what you mean. trust me - for the moment, all is well. or at least acceptable. (node context: reassuring) gale: oh to have but a thimbleful of your confidence at my disposal. (node context: wry)

once again, i find this (very, very sadly) seemingly cut content fascinating. it's very sad it wasn't included in the release version of the game because it shows the deeper bond that elminster and gale share despite gale's impatience and, as it's phrased here, not-this-again attitude. it speaks of knowing each other well, and of the affection between them from both sides.

we get to see this, too, in the gale origin. elminster's visit remains much the same as it is an origin tav playthrough, yet there are slight variation in how elminster treats gale (a softer voice, calling him 'dear boy', etc.).

and that affection he has for gale, gale holds for him, too:

"his disappointment cuts deeper even than mystra's." is so significant considering just who mystra is for gale. gale is hurt by having had elminster witness him as he is now. a shadow of who he used to be. he has disappointed him. he once more wasn't good enough.

elminster, who not only saw potential within him, but "plucked" him from obscurity and offered his guidance, who had become a mentor to him, and a figure to look to for guidance.

as a side note, i can't help but wonder if elminster was perhaps responsible-or at least helped-to have gale attend blackstaff academy:

Blackstaff Academy was a loosely organized group of elite apprentices and students who studied under the Blackstaff at Blackstaff Tower in the 14th and 15th centuries DR. The school was made up of an everchanging roster of about fifty apprentices and students to the Blackstaff, with new arrivals always ready to replenish the ranks as graduates moved on.[2] Acceptance to the Academy was predicated on either demonstrating extraordinary magical aptitude (those who could not cast arcane spells were very rarely admitted) or having a particularly compelling personal history. Joining the Academy was free, however monthly dues were required to continue attendance. These fees started at 10 gp per month and increased as a student gained seniority and required more advanced tutelage. In addition, it was a requirement that any new spell that was discovered or researched by an apprentice had to be added to Blackstaff Tower's library. [source]

anyhow. this bond between the two is also reflected in the aftermath of the visit. elminster sneakily breaks mystra's order, by having tara deliver a letter written by him to gale, trying to reassure gale and make him see that there is another way out of his predicament than the one mystra commands him to follow:

i cannot stress enough that elminster is ready to defy direct orders from mystra for gale. he obviously cares about him and his regreat at having not said more when he was there is palpable in his letter. gale acknowledges this as well:

to a lesser extent, the same is shown in a custom protag playthrough:

gale knows this isn't something elminster wanted to do and elminster himself admits as much, too. yet he is forced to, obligated to, by his status as chosen and the mission he was given by his goddess.

we can later ask gale about this once more:

and here we can also infer just why mystra sent elminster and not anyone else: "for mystra to have sent him... the severity of her bidding could not be clearer. or weigh more heavily on me."

it shows that this was a very much calculated choice-mystra must have been aware of the bond two of her chosen shared-and so it helps to achieve exactly what she intended it to: gale accepts the charge that he is given.

i think all in all, even though the situation is bad enough already as it is, this makes what was asked of elminster by mystra even worse.

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #elminster aumar #tara the tressym #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #ch: gale dekarios #ch: elminster aumar #ch: mystra #ch: tara the tressym #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

[koolades-world]

Can you do Obey Me headcanons of a Christian MC? MC isn't a toxic one though, they're actually super nice and supportive of everyone and such. They're also generally really trusting and try and see the best in people. They're more or less just extremely concerned and slightly uncomfortable with the entire being kidnapped and brought to hell thing(and also being forced to attend school again)

They also got really excited when they learned angels were gonna be attending RAD too, so there's that lol

Like when they saw Simeon and Luke for the first time they mentally went "THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY!!!! TAKE A PICTURE!!!"

haha hi!!

when I first saw this I was really looking forward to doing it! been thinking about it a lot

one of my best friends is actually a christian who plays obey me, and she was the one to introduce me to the game. I think she would find this funny, so I'll def be thinking of her while I write this haha (if you're reading this, which you very much might be, heyyyy happy late bday girl)

Christian Mc

Lucifer

once you realize who he is, you're freaked out, both in a good and bad way

like, this is the lucifer! you ask to take a picture lol (and he's not amused)

you're a little sad and relieved when he pawns you off to mammon, since you're awed by his presence but also terrified since you knew the part he played in the bible by heart

once you get to know him, the both of you chuckle about human depictions of him and you finally get that picture! be sure to make him sign it and then frame it

Mammon

learns quickly just how many copies of the bible you own once he spends enough time in your room including but not limited to the version on your phone, the mini version in your RAD bag, and the one you keep on your side table

once you get to the stage of basically living together, he learns that you read the bible and say a prayer nightly

at first, he was nervous having to be the one to guide you but he learnt you were probably more scared of him, and you were actually just so sweet

he jokingly picks up all of the jesus merch he finds so now you have an entire shelf

Levi

the most normal out of the brothers besides the fact that he spends all his time in his room, but that kind of reminds you of a brother you only see like once a day

it's almost scary and a little jarring walking into his room, but after that, you guys get along so well

he admits that he thought the exchange program was weird, and it was all history after that

unlikely besties: a devout christan human and their gamer social outcast demon

Satan

highkey fuming about the fact that humans don't know that he and lucifer are different (he for sure smashed up an entire room of the house)

after he calms down from this though, although it takes a while for the two of you to get to know each other, he takes joy in making fun of the slanderous things said about lucifer

you both like to read but the only thing you reread and read nightly is the bible so

luckily he doesn't care about that since it wasn't his dad anyways (don't remind him that it's technically his grandpa's book)

Asmo

the first time you showed him biblical version of him, he was disgusted and refused to speak to you for the next two and half days

after that he feels a little bad since he knows you didn't mean it like that and since you basically tip toe around him

after that he comes on a little strong, but after a while you get along pretty well despite being so different

he’ll reminisce while you listen carefully and hold onto every work he says since he was a real angel and that’s so cool

Beel

while you were initially terrified of him, you quickly learnt how much like he actually was

at the core, you were both just a kind person (or demon) who wanted to help others and uplift them

always there for you to lend a listening ear and to help out out if others are giving you problems

the first in the devildom to make you feel truest welcome and let you know that you could call it home

Belphie

at first he thinks it’s a joke and kinda pokes fun at it

once he realizes you’re being serious, he feels a little bad but also still thinks is very funny how you hide your face behind a bible when you’re scare

has had holy water thrown at him, and has found a bible under his pillow before (gosh who could’ve done that…)

used to jump out at your from around corners in his demon form and it sent your running every time so you can prepared with a rosary blessed by the pope to shove in his face if he dare to try again

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me lucifer #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

[ddarker-dreams]

I really enjoyed the gojo fic!! You did great balancing his humor and eeriness.

At the end he was really trying to save the the relationship: your family can move, the job is better here, think in our baby Magumi, I’ll GIVE YOU FOOD. If this doesn’t convince you…

To me it show that he wants a semi normal relationship, whatever you feel fear or love is up to you, but he is not giving you up.

I wonder if older gojo won’t regret acting so suddenly. He is a lot less impulsive when he is older and he could have sabotage her without her notice it.

AAA thank you very much!!!!! at first, i told myself it'd be a short lil fic, but writing banter with gojo was so much fun that i had to keep going jsgklfs

i was considering the difference between brat high school gojo vs still a brat older gojo as well. i do think that older gojo would've had a more solid plan prepared in advance, he'd be sliiiiightly less volatile as well. slightly. which is why i decided to go with the high school setting because seeing him unhinged sounded interesting (and frightening). especially since his version of unhinged doesn't mean he's completely lost it, it still feels calculated and intentional. he's saying weird things with the express purpose of making reader uncomfortable. that's his 'revenge' of sorts for her trying to leave in the first place.

^ this really was gojo's ace in the hole. what are you gonna do???? abandon baby megumi????????? gojo would break out pictures if he had to. lay the guilt on thick.

"look at this sad orphan, can you in good conscience leave him behind?"

like what are you supposed to say to that..........

#sometimes a family is two seventeen year olds #and their zenin clan son #sweet asks #answered #cecii22me

[ghostinthegallery]

Spoiler alert for The Infinite and the Divine (big spoiler, I mean it) but if you want an extra layer of tragedy to Trazyn and Orikan's messed up excuse for a relationship, consider how much of their time together on Serenade was...

...poisoned by the Deceiver screwing. It's not like Orikan didn't hate Trazyn before, but during so much of their forced cooperation, Deceiver is whispering in Orikan's head, stoking that fire. Telling him that Trazyn isn't worth his time, Trazyn can't be trusted, Trazyn's just there to be used and discarded. He isn't someone Orikan should care about. Meanwhile, Trazyn is actually starting to like spending time with Orikan. He's opening up. Yes, most of that opening up consists of explaining random shit Orikan doesn't care about, but come on, how many of us express affection by doing exactly that? We all relate to infodumping about our hyperfixations.

There is a moment where Orikan starts to come around: when Trazyn shares that he too remembers resisting biotransference. He believed Orikan and didn't go willingly to the furnaces. This is the thing Orikan remembers when he saves Trazyn from Flayer!Quellkah (a thing he did not have to do and is more surprised than anyone that he did). Finally the wall starts coming down. And wouldn't you know it, the second Orikan starts to feel something besides hatred, a new memory CONVENIENTLY pops up, showing that Trazyn actually tossed him into the furnace personally (a thing that does not make any practical sense when you think about it). And Orikan goes right back to hating him. WOW FUNNY HOW THAT HAPPENED! Almost like the Deceiver felt a little threatened by the idea of them cooperating...

It's so sad how differently they experienced that time and how much they could have accomplished if each of them had been allowed to understand the other. Trazyn did not want to fight Orikan at the end. He tries to get him to stop their battle, but Orikan has the Deceiver in his ear telling him that he has to attack. And he listens because the Deceiver is offering him exactly what he wants. An easy answer. Trazyn=bad, "Vishani"=good, no need to reevaluate his rivalry or worldviews. And Orikan gets a mountain to the face for his trouble.

Yes, they'll probably always despise each other on some level, but this makes me wonder if there's a version of events where they despise each other slightly less. What that universe might look like. There's probably fewer Deceiver shards running around.

#necrons #wh40k #trazyn the infinite #orikan the diviner #the infinite and the divine #the Infinite and the Divine spoilers #more sad thoughts about these disaster robots #but also a little hopeful #they can find common ground #at least trazyn can #come on orikan #Trazyn's not so bad once you get to know him #let him monologue about beetles or whatever #it's his love language #screw the deceiver

[mamamittens]

Reader who got turned into a child with platontic yandere strawhats.

My god this crew is already chaos, and that's with One (1) Baby on Board (possibly more depending on your babygirl headcanons). Ngl, not super heavy in the yandere category, but I tend to make yandere groups lighter since they balance each other out more than small teams and it's harder to 'upset' the balance with so many people. Individuals may be unhinged af to make up for a lack of control, but groups can quietly distract you while the shady shit happens elsewhere. That and it's a kid, so there's less opportunity to meaningfully upset the dynamics.

Luffy is, of course, thrilled cause child reader is so impressed and enthused with damn near everything on top of being clingy. Screams laughing every time he launches them to another crewmate. Loves just bundling up the kiddo to run around with if they happen to go to an island. Food runs are with kiddo in front to distract Sanji cause he's not going to let a kid go hungry regardless of gender, though he will still gladly punt Luffy for stealing.

Reading time with Robin! Reading time with Robin! Robin loves hanging out with child reader raptly listening to everything she reads. If Reader can't read yet, she will teach them despite knowing they'll turn back eventually. Just really likes the chill, soft hang out time and absolutely gives %100 of her attention to anything the kiddo brings. Sometimes adding small, neat fun facts to enrich the experience.

Sanji is very careful with baby in the kitchen but will fondly have them assist with small tasks like carrying over food items and things that won't break if dropped. Can and will walk them through fun recipes with them on his shoulders, taste testing along the way. If he doesn't think they're old enough for cutting, he'll gladly let them mix or mash potatoes. Has them lowkey on Luffy watch to give the captain sad, weepy eyes that "you can't wait for the surprise, luffy 🥺?" works like a charm.

Zoro is weirdly good with kids and will jokingly engage them in a workout. Lifting the baby barbells for like, five reps before exaggerating how bored he is of his weights and inviting kiddo to sit on them only to effortlessly keep going. Or like, sitting on his back with an extra bounce to make them laugh. Naptimes are spent tucked into his yukata (it's a yukata, right? Either than or kimono, I'm not sure of the difference, but you get what I mean). Very easily gets Reader to settle down. Traveling with Reader is fun cause he will actually listen to Reader's directions and only get's lost like... 1/3 less of the time.

Nami is slightly awkward around kids for a moment before she just starts emulating her late mother. Getting them to help pick and sort her fruit harvests or doing small tasks to make them feel useful like delivering messages to the crew. Is the first to tie them down if the weather threatens to turn foul just in case or sends them below to 'watch over' supplies that she knows damn well aren't going anywhere. Might even go over budgeting (child friendly version) with them. Has an incredible aversion to engaging in map making with them due do her past trauma but, if the condition persists, she will eventually have them help pick out ink and paper, perhaps even letting them draw with pencils on scrap paper. But nothing more than that.

Franky has a blast making small inventions for child reader to pilot around with hilariously over the top safety added on top. Like a helmet for a bike with an auto targeting system that activates if they cry. Will gladly carry them around on his shoulders while showing off the many neat tricks he put into the Sunny. Has them 'help' with projects, at first forgetting that they can't carry whole ass beams of wood before giving them buckets of nails and whatnot.

Ussop is literally in his element entertaining the kid with wild tall tales until it's time to eat. The first to lift reader into the air if anything remotely dangerous happens before running off to a safe distance. Probably gives them a little sling shot to 'assist' in fights while he praises them endlessly for incredible aim (even if they never get close). Probably the first to make a child carrier to fights so they can 'watch his back for him' despite being a long distance fighter.

Child Reader will be absolutely floored by Brook, undoubtedly. Just wide eyes watching him play in awe as he shows off. Probably letting them play with his hands and the many small bones, quietly informing them of their proper names. If they promise to be gentle, he even lets them touch his hair. If he's got a child-sized instrument, you can bet he's giving them lessons on how to play. If not, he probably talks them through music theory while demonstrating the notes and details. I imagine he plays piano with their hands under his to give the illusion of skill while he idly comments on how much better it is to play with someone else.

Chopper is really thrown to have someone as short as himself around but he's happy to have their help. It's kinda hard to do some things without opposable thumbs, alright? Of course, work never lasts, so he's off to play with them in due time, really livening up the ship as Reader compliments him endlessly about literally anything. And he gives them fun health advice on top of convincing them to eat whatever healthy food Sanji makes (because we all know it'll slap, but kids don't typically jump right into gross healthy food).

Jinbe has a bit of an awkward standoff at first, unsure if the reader will be frightened until they gleefully marvel over his fishman attributes right down to his skin color and webbed hands. The one to swim with them (or just hold them in the water if they've got a devil fruit) never letting them go for a second. Has them 'help' steer the ship on occasion, making them think it's effortless for a child when in reality he's guiding them through it entirely. Talks about the people in his life that he misses with them, glad to have a child marvel at the great but dearly departed. Legitimately tears up when they console him in that special, innocent child-like way at the news that they'll never get to meet these people because their gone.

Now, the Thousand Sunny also has plenty of love to give in a much more... quiet way. Soothingly rocking child reader to sleep when they're struggling and no one sees it. Secretly guiding them to fun little cubbies and passages to spook the crew and captain. They may not be there physically, but the spirit is definitely guiding them every step of the way in the rare moments they're alone.

Of course, engaging in a fight while the reader is a vulnerable child is a terrible mistake. At first the crew will fight normally, shielding the reader and guiding them to less dangerous parts, but the minute it looks like they'll even get grazed a rubber limb is sending the perpetrator into the stratosphere. Assuming a flaming leg, swords, bullet, hands, water, staff, hoof, or (insert robo-tech here) doesn't do it first. Might even be a race as they keep the atmosphere light to make sure child Reader knows that they're still safe.

God forbid you make the baby cry.

#straw hat crew #straw hat nami #monkey d luffy #ronoroa zoro #black leg sanji #chopper #one piece jinbe #reader insert #op brook #soul king brook #one piece franky #nico robin #one piece #platonic yandere #mittens answers

[piviani]

what enhypen members needs to work on

to become the best version of themselves

( disclaimer: please do remember to take my readings with a grain of salt. i am in no way a professional tarot reader and all of this are alleged and is for entertainment purposes only. )

yang jungwon

ten of swords

somehow swords always shows up to him. what he really needs to work on is his are emotions and his charasteristic where he has no confidence at all. low self esteem. he tends to burden himself with responsibilities alot. so it would be better if he starts on working on himself not for the sake of others but for his own sake alone.

he may have the mentality to always feel or need to catch others for their own problems? i dont wanna cause issues, but whenever i do a reading on jungwon he always feels burned out, exhausted, and sad. it seems like he wants to crave validation from people. someone who could feel what he feels. he doesnt show his emotions alot. so it would be a really great start to befriend with a non-toxic circle and a non toxic environment that understands why hes like he is and why its hard with opening up.

lee heeseung

king of pentacles in reverse

oh what he needs to work on are his characteristics of being overly workaholic and stubborn at times. he may be too quick on his shoes especially if it involves his work without even roughly thinking about the consequences he might face and things he might lose along the way. as long as theres a starter lane he can run over its already enough for him. theres times he might leave things as it is if it doesn’t benefit him anymore.

heeseung has the tendencies to lose touch with the reality too, he might be overly intune with the idealism world he creates. sometimes losing touch with the reality has its side effects. (nothing bad about dreaming, he just might be into it that he might start to abandon it will actually need consistent hardwork) so he should work on these things to improve his life and become the best version of himself.

park jongseong

wheel of fortune - queen of pentacles

i was wondering what the wheel of fortune meant cause this doesnt seem like something that could be worked on. its one of the major symbolic cards. probably the only thing i could consider as slightly negative is where it will always have ups and downs. its a wheel after all—and in every transition, a big change occurs. so anyway, i pulled for confirmation and queen of pentacles came out. well—with the former card, it might be true in a sense that fate are always there for him. however we should take queen of pentacles into an account. he may take responsibilities for his loved ones too much so he should tone it down. things dont always look good just because it is for the external. best believe as unfortunate it sounds being a giver always causes troubles too. may tend to neglect himself while taking focus on the others thinking it could help him. so he should work on this :) hes too nurturing it backfires him.

sim jaeyun

two of wands

2 of wands, for jake to become the best version of himself—he should learn to focus on his personal goals. tha card shows a man standing holding an earth (or basically his world) with his right hand and a wand in his left, and with my own interpretation, it’s saying him that jake should learn to focus more on what’s infront of him than just standing. its the actions that matters. you cant be standing for so long or you could be left behind. he should learn not to settle for less with this. he may always be indecisive too—whether he should just stand and stay, or move forward by wanting more. he may be a thinker more than a taker. or like idealistic more than realistic. though there’s the passion, drive don’t do everything. he needs his own resolve so he could become the best version of himself.

park sunghoon

queen of wands

another wands, though queen of wands may mostly have an uplifting and positive meaning, this could also mean that sunghoon may have tendencies to be too self centered because of his confidence with his individuality. may be too independent as well. he should learn how to rely on others too as too much independence can cause you to isolate with others making it hard to open up his scars and wounds. he may be the type to be closed off yet helps with people with their own certain circumstances with his drive and force? just really not with himself which causes this destruction. so its really adviced for him to be communicative. (ive noticed most enha are not really great with communication and would rather keep it all by themselves, including sunghoon himself) like though they might everything’s alright already it might not be? sunghoon needs to stay still and allow others to walk through his inner. its not bad to be dependent sometimes.

kim sunoo

the tower in reverse

tower in reverse.. it seems like sunoo doesn’t face his personal problems because he believes walking through it causes more trouble than running away. so he turns his back instead. sunoo’s always scared to change that it becomes a toxic repetitive cycle. this seems like it will not change any time soon either. he will try and try to resist any transitions until it exhausts him. he may have low self esteem which causes this. sunoo doesn’t really see a light behind the darkness? neither would like to change this cycle. he would rather keep running instead of facing it. change are inevitable, sunoo should learn how to take this into an account and accept the undeniable transformations that needs to be taken for the future as this is a major part when growing up. (as much as i wouldve loved to deep dive more and pull a card but i dont think im allowed further. such heavy energy, this is all i can do.)

nishimura riki

the hanged man in reverse

the hanged man usually symbolizes detachment, discontentment and impulsiveness. these are what riki should take into an account for him to become the best version of himself. he seems to be the type to make his impulsiveness a mechanism to direct the fact that he always feels low, like just so he could feel thrill. he’s young so there seems to be days where impulsiveness takes over. im seeing impatience in his part as well. a bit naive. originally in the upright—we can see the man hanging there by his own free will, but this is in reversed—so im seeing some certain circumstances where he just let people control him rather than fighting for what he feels symbolizes him more. or hes standing in standards that doesn’t align with his will. this could also be the problem. he should learn how to let his thinking be aligned with his will. impulsiveness are not always the answer. he shouldnt retrain himself just because others said so. he needs how to form his own freedom of speech lol.

#kpop tarot #kpop #enhypen tarot #enhypen #tarot #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #nishimura riki #enhypen astrology #kpop astrology

[justalazywriter]

HCS| they are the little spoon| Naruto| gn!reader

Warning: none

➢masterlist

Requests open

A/n:Well some are short and some are long , I'm not too happy with the outcome but I hope you liked it

Characters : Kakashi , Hashirama , Tobirama , Madara , Iruka , indra , Naruto

Kakashi (ofc)

It's a lot easier to get him be the little spoon when he's tired.

He won't let you go and you can't change anything (unless you need to use the toilet ofc)

I would say his touch starved side really shows when he's the little spoon . Feeling safe for once and enjoying your presence is heaven to him .

He likes that he can show this kind of side around you and that you don't think of him as weak bc he is like this.

Cuddling like this with him is like having a huge heated teddy bear on top of you Wich is really nice (especially in autumn or winter nights )

Hashirama

It's a lot more common with him and honestly he's the best little spoon in my opinion

Huge heated teddy bear 2.0

he will fall asleep so easily on you and gosh his breathing is really relaxing and you might fall asleep but try not to, it's worth it

He is a funny sleeptalker

Honestly there could be a tired version of the muffin man "have you heard... Of the muffinnn man?" "The muffin man?" "The muffin mann"

Or just random words but honestly that makes him even more loveable

Tobirama

Extremely rare but not impossible

You might have to beg him unless he's really tired

2nd best little spoon just a little cold

His temperature is below average but not too much still in summer this could be pretty useful lmao

Tobirama naturally seeks warmth when he sleeps so if he falls asleep on you expect him to have a little grip on you and cling a bit

He isn't a sleeptalker nor snores but he sleep really light so don't try to read with him on top of you (if your arms are free ) unless you want to wake him up. It's either the light or the page flicking that'll wake him up

Tobirama will never admit how much he loves it but it's noticable bc after some while it takes less and less effort to get him to be the little spoon

Madara

Honestly if you get this man to be the little spoon you have my respect

I don't mean it's impossible but it's really really hard

However don't give up , hell eventually crack and do it but get him to do it when he's tired . Madara moves a lot and when he's tired hell maybe realize it's not that bad to be the little spoon

Heated big blanket

What's even rarer is to get him to fall asleep on you . He always has the want to be able to protect you and he can't do that as good when he's sleeping

But it's easy rub his back slightly and let him listen to your heartbeat (it calms him knowing you're there calm and alive ) maybe he might fall asleep

Sleeping Madara increases temperature and clings more (can't decide if he is a light snorer or not a snorer?) would be suprising if you don't falls asleep bc it's pretty calming with that heated blanket lmao

Unless it's summer , might suck a little then

Like Tobirama a light sleeper but not as light as Tobirama

Iruka

Won't have to ask him twice to be the little spoon . He loves it . The calming heartbeat he can listen to and so on . Iruka could name a hundred reasons why he loves it

Medium heated blanket

He isn't too warm . Just right to go through summer too

Falls asleep easily and is kind of a deep sleeper but will notice if you try to get away

Might act sad about it

Indra

Almost impossible

However if you ever get on his real warm side yeah he maybe might do it

Let's say you did it (yay) and now got an Indra laying on you

What to do next? Nothing . Just kidding . If you're brave enough glide your hand over his back or just have your arms around him and he'll surprisingly relax .

Relaxed Indra is just *mwah* perfect , peaceful and extremely rare

Medium heated blanket 2.0

I dont think he has a cold temperature, maybe a bit higher than normal but that's it

If he ever falls asleep on you don't move , he sleeps lighter than Tobirama and there's no way you can do anything without waking him up

Unless you make no sound and no noticable movement

Like Tobirama , won't admit that he likes it but unless him you hardly notice that he actually likes it

Unless you pay attention to how quickly he relaxes or falls asleep and that he gets less stiff every time

Naruto (grown up(romantic) or friendship cuddles , you decide )

Moves a lot and snores actually

But he might ask you first if he can be the little spoon

Heated big blanket 2.0

Can't stop talking and will beg you to play with his hair , it relaxes him

Surprisingly falls asleep rather quickly when he's tired

Loves listening to your heartbeat/breathing , it calms him

A deep sleeper around you and won't really notice if you try to get away or read etc

End

#anime naruto #naruto #kakashi x reader #kakashi headcanons #kakashi naruto #kakashi hatake x reader #hatake kakashi headcanons #kakashi #hashirama senju #hashirama x reader #founders #founders x reader #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader #tobirama x you #naruto tobirama #madara #madara x reader #madara uchiha #iruka x reader #iruka umino #bad written story ig #indra otsutsuki #indra x reader #indra otsuki x reader #indra uchiha #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki #anime naruto x reader #iruka sensei

[compacflt]

hey! i was just going through your blog, and i saw a post about ice&carole and mav&goose. i looked a bit more but i couldn't find a post about your take on mav and goose's relationship, so i wanted to ask what it was. if you have answered this, i'm sorry about asking you again. imo i think what they had was wayy deeper than friendship but complex and probably not romantic, but again, i just wanted to know your thoughts on it.

thank you! and this blog has probably been one of the best finds i have ever come across on tumblr, i'll be sad to see you go.

yeah, i was really trying to be suave and subtle and mysterious about it with this parallel

like, you should be able to figure it out for yourself.

but luckily for you i looooove beating dead horses. to a problematic degree.

the full story of my vision of mavgoose (moose?) is in the completed draft of the extras that are coming out on Saturday. about halfway through. But i want to bring it back to the internal craft-of-writing debate i brought up yesterday—my inability to summarize, or to cut superfluous sections that don’t really matter.

I’ll stick it under the cut for spoiler reasons, but i wanna show the simple first draft of this scene versus the complicated, heavier final draft. And I want to ask any of you, if you’re interested—as a reader, which is more impactful? which should i end up publishing?

the simple first draft:

then i kept turning it in my head thinking of different ways to edit it to say something slightly different, to get a little more specific, coming up with things to add, and ended up adding like five extra paragraphs. which is this:

about 1/4 of the final draft (by which i mean, this is about 1/4 of the whole final discussion scene, but the goosemav-specific content only goes on for about another graf [omitted bc spoilers]):

(so to answer your ask explicitly, i actually don’t think they were anything deeper than good friends. imo there’s no evidence that they were anything deeper than good friends, especially with maverick blowing goose/goose’s wishes off soooo many times [‘she’s lost that lovin feelin;’ volleyball; refusing to do the responsible thing at least twice even after goose tells him it puts his & his family’s livelihoods at risk…bro all he does is blow off goose]. see me bitching in the tags for more on this)

obviously in my head the complicated in-depth version ⬆️ is the True version, the version of events that really Happened. i think the writing is in some spots much more compelling. But it just doesn’t make for a particularly good reading experience when it’s surrounded by like 3/4 pages of other discussion of history! sometimes too much of (what i think is) a good thing turns that good thing bad! & this is a major keystone dynamic of my whole series so i just want to get it right, for my own peace of mind. I guess im asking you to be the harsh editor i wish i had sometimes, if ur interested in doing so—this is genuinely a major major problem i have with my writing, i can’t ever just leave well enough alone 😭 please let me know if simpler is better/less is more in this case! do i publish the short vague “the reader fills in the blanks” version or the long boring “here’s EXACTLY how i see it” version?

#crowd sourcing beta readers. let me know. #also. #how many times do i have to say maverick is neither a good person nor a good friend #and the writers of TGM hugely whitewashed and dulled down the original sharpness and thoughtlessness of his character #for the sake of post-50s tom cruise mary-sueifying him #before it sticks? #if it helps you can write out a list of his actions in the original movie. #for instance: > blows off goose to be late to dinner with Charlie anyway #> follows her into the women’s restroom > continues a pattern of dangerous behavior even after #Goose his supposed best friend tells him multiple times it is threatening their jobs #the truck master scene… the locker room scene… the ‘can’t afford to blow this scene’ #and then he does it a FOURTH TIME AND KILLS GOOSE HELLO!!!!! #so much for being a good friend like c’mon!!! #if he REALLY respected goose he would have SHOWN HIS RESPECT FOR GOOSE!!! #i am leaving this blog so out come the hot takes! #movies are also woobifying tom cruise lately! how’s that for a hot take #i genuinely felt insulted by TGM’s sexless passionless soft bokeh-light KIND OF half-sex with Penny. that was insulting. #what happened to the savage bitter kid in 1986 top gun? why is he so soft and toothless? #the only time we see him is in the ‘it’s not the plane it’s the pilot’ ‘EXACTLY’ exchange. THATS maverick. #sorry you know me. TGM is not my favorite. i am extremely cynical about it. #i love the IP but the writing choices in the 2nd movie wrt mav especially make me…. 😵‍💫😵‍💫 #pete maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #mavgoose #you can ignore me bitching but pls don’t ignore my begging for secondary opinions here

[leggerefiore]

Back in your inbox to discuss Cyrus bullshit again lmfao. I am normal. Totally normal.

So media literacy decline aside (no really, the reports are scary, less people can interpret nuance and hints), I blame 1) how young most of us were when we first played the games, 2) the OG Diamond and Pearl characterization (because it was a little different than Platinum's) and 3) the Pokemon Anime.

Largely skipping over the age thing because it speaks for itself. A good number of players were probably too young to catch all of the hints or grasp how irrational and emotionally driven Cyrus really was. Like, a legit Trauma Meter for our age group (20s) would be to ask if Cyrus freaked them out, or if they thought he had a point. Whatever the collective's first impression was would've colored YEARS of discussion and content. And I'm pretty sure I remember his reception being negative. Of course, the theory that he wrote the old notebook and that the old man was his Grandpa (meaning Cyrus was an abuse/neglect survivor) always existed. But before USUM and PokeMas added more implications, they were treated as "Just Theories" or after Platinum, retcons. Likewise, I think a good number of the older players WANTED Cyrus to be evil, so they kinda ignored it. Though there was an equal faction WISHING for a well written Sympathetic Villian. They missed Giovanni and had little hope GameFreak could write a worthwhile sympathetic villian because while Maxie and Archie weren't evil, their plan was just so stupid? Maybe it's because I grew up in a rural area at the start of the Going Green era, but I can remember being taught basic ecosystems in like 3rd or 4th Grade Science and learning that major changes to the environment were bad? And they were supposed to be super smart scientists?

On to game characterization, D/P Cyrus and Platinum Cyrus were portrayed slightly differently and I don't know if it was intentional or not, given how subtle the changes in the overall story were. But it boils down to a matter of A Means to an End, where D/P Cyrus seemed like he was changing the world to become a God, while Platinum Cyrus wanted to change the world and has to become a God to do so. Likewise, I don't think the implications that Cyrus was the abused/neglected grandson of that Old Man and the author of the old notebook were as strong. Also every scene with Cyrus in the Distortion World didn't exist in D/P so you didn't witness his breakdown or him admitting to his own faults. Charon/Pluto also wasn't in D/P, nor was the Rotom Room which was the first thing to give the "Cyrus wrote the Old Notebook Theory" any credibility.

My last reason was the Poke Anime and I talked a bit about it in a comment the other day. I have since looked it up and the D/P Anime aired the same day as the D/P Game Release, in Japan at least. So the 2nd most prevalent and remembered version of Cyrus is an ASS. The Anime did a great job of showing us the double life he was living, smiling and dressing/acting normal, albiet hammy, in front of Cynthia and that one old lady. But for a cold, stoic villian, he was super agressive, loud, short-tempered and dismissive in the anime. In that clip you shared, he wasn't calmly explaining why fighting was useless, he was about to snap on his admins. He yelled at someone else to (Ash I think). So it didn't even do a good job of portraying him as the kind of villian he was supposed to be, though this may have been because the series ended in 2011, so it may have been affected by the Platinum retcons.

But yeah, I'm also kinda sad about how people see Cyrus, but it isn't surprising. For everyone who "grew out of" pokemon or just never played Platinum, USUM, PokeMas or BDSP, they have to go back and relearn everything and not everyone does that. Nor will everyone want to because again, some people wanted Cyrus to be genuinely evil. And even if they do want to learn what changed and are open to it, they have to sift through years of content saying he was actually that bad.

It was a nightmare explaining to two of my homies why I was suddenly trying to write fanfic and draw fanart of him because they didn't get the memo.

Quick correction - It is not a theory that the old man is Cyrus's grandpa. It's confirmed from my understanding. Which it means Cyrus is likely an abuse victim (though, what Cyrus was going through was never entirely specified. Just that it was bad enough to concern his grandfather.)

I will note that his characterisation did change between Diamond-Pearl and Platinum (and now BDSP has introduced younger people to the pre-Platinum story), so I will give them that. But specifically, I was on the USUM battle theme still seeing it. (Interestingly, not at all on the BDSP rendition, though. Maybe because it's just Sinnoh fans who already know everything.) One of the top comments was ironically a joke about him seeing the Rotom Dex and wanting to kill everyone.

I think his character is really just generally misunderstood because of how subtle everything was is what I was originally trying to say. Like you said, some of it is general literacy issues. It just makes me sad to see him so misunderstood... I think Game Freak did a really good job writing him. Though, he does clearly read as emotional in both Diamond-Pearl and Platinum. At least, seeing his little chibi march up to you in BDSP after you ruin his plans really shows how emotional he truly is. While the Rotom Room journal is clearly only a theory, I do truly think he is the only logical character who fills that role so well. (Charon 100% would use Cyrus's childhood trauma journal for its precious Rotom research without a doubt seeing how quick he was to try to take over Team Galactic.)

I am glad that they gave him depth rather than just making him a generic bad guy... Actually, considering that Platinum was just before BW (well, a few years but development wise, I mean), I think it might have been their first steps into more character driven plots. I do hope people end up looking more into Cyrus, but I know he isn't the most popular villain at all. (I believe that crown goes to either Archie or Guzma. Or. Well. Lusamine, actually, probably.)

I convinced my friend by telling her about the Rotom Room stuff, actually. She already liked Cyrus since she is super into Sinnoh, but apparently, learning that he was besties with Rotom when he was a child sold her. Now she bravely helps me write for him sometimes lmao. My other friend, however... She still doesn't believe that he's actually 27.

Granted. Youtube comment section opinions should probably always be discarded.

Except maybe... This one. This is the only good and acceptable one lmao

#cyrus.ima #long post

[3motionally3xhausted]

More Ouran redesigns!

Below the cut, listen to me ramble about the art choices I made in the redesigns, please. (Honey, Yasuchika, Kasanoda, Renge)

+A little sketch of Haruhi & Tamaki 😊

I redid Honey's because I was so unhappy with the first version, but I like this one a LOT more. He kinds of looks like an idol, but I'm not mad at it lol

The main thing I don't like about the canon design of Honey is that he looks like a literal child (wow new idea alert) and somehow in my first redesign I didn't get rid of that problem?? And I just didn't like the way that one turned out art-wise.

So! This time, I made his face a lot less round and decided to give him shorter hair in a more natural/ash blonde color. Instead of going full l*lita, I was aiming more for "soft boy" & I spent a good minute just coloring his eyes so they look pretty magical (or a bit creepy, I can't tell lol) but I wanted him to have long pretty lashes. Also, I added a little scar on the bridge of his nose to hint at his hidden violent side

(That shirt is entirely improvised lmao)

Anyway, Yasuchika!

I always felt kind of bad for him (for that one episode that he appeared lol), so I wanted to lean into the fact that he's kinda bitter Honey left the Judo club but still admires him a lot.

I had to remember what he looked like first, but I actually really like his design in the manga so its practically the same lol. The hair is slightly different though. And, it's subtle, but his hair is bleached here as a tiny nod that he wants to be more like his brother, though he didn't go full blonde. And since their hair and eyes are different, I now headcanon that they have different moms, because I can and it tugs at my heartstrings for some reason.

Now, Kasadona's and Renge's were done kind of a while ago, so the art is marginally worse imo, but anyway

Onto Kasanoda!

Another character that I always loved and felt sad about! This time he has two episodes, I think.

Since it's important to his character, I had to keep him looking scary, but that doesn't mean I couldn't make him look sad too! I love aiming for subtle expressions lol, I remember this one was really fun.

I can't tell you why I made his hair wavy/curly, I just wanted that, but those little shaved bits at the corners of his hairline were very intentional; it's meant to kind of mimic devil horns just to solidify that he's seen as kind of evil and whatever. And his eyes! I think that blizzard nickname/reputation (i can't remember) is really unique, so it exaggerates his cold glare.

(Trying to avoid saying 'kind of' so much, jeez)

Last up, Renge!

She also kind of looks like an idol, mostly 'cause of the pose and little sparkle, though. And oddly enough, I really didn't like her when I was originally watching the show (thought she was annoying lol) but I kind of adore her now because..

This girl is a nerd, she's silly, she's a cosplayer, a complete madwoman, and girl boss! (Character-wise, I only really take issue with the 'fuj*shi' 'y*oi stan' part, so that's cut for my version) But I really wanted to show that more fun, adventurous part of her, so she has pink dye on the underside, with her hair pulled into this big red bow.

I don't have many thoughts on her past what I already said, she just deserves to be cute and have fun. But I do think she should be in on the secret that Haruhi's a girl, and they should be good friends, the show is just lacking in girl friendships. (Excluding the Zuka club, they're full on lesbians and the show portrayed them so weirdly imo.)

(***I only censored some words cuz I don't want anything to end up in my feed lol)

#ouran redesigns #ouran high school host club #ohshc #mitskuni haninozuka #yasuchika haninozuka #renge houshakuji #ritsu kasanoda #my art #my fanart #33xhausted art

[deconstructthesoup]

The Web House

Full disclosure—I did not have this all typed out before today, but this won the poll, and I do nothing if not deliver.

*cracks knuckles*

So, this is kind of an inverse to my already well-established AU, The Wittebane Archives, over on AO3—Luz is the Archivist and going through the horrors, there’s an equal amount of deep character moments as well as incredibly chilling encounters, it’s great, it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, please go check it out. You got tragic Lumity, tragic Huntlow, wholesome Veesha, Skara and Boscha content, and Belos being much more morally grey than you’d expect. Also, there’s some fucked-up monster content.

ANYWAYS!

I finally decided to do an AU where a young Jon ends up on the Boiling Isles, and I took a similar approach with the tone that I did with Wittebane Archives. In that story, while I still highlighted the horror of the world they live in, I decided to make it more manageable for the characters and give them chances to still find ways to feel human, reflecting the fact that TOH is a more gentle and optimistic show (and I much prefer happy endings to sad ones). So, with The Web House, I decided that the Isles in this world are the Isles we would’ve gotten if Dana had been allowed to do her original vision… which is to say, all of the scary and horrific parts are kicked up to their extent. No sugarcoating here, the demon realm is explicitly referred to as Hell.

Now, to the characters!

Jon: He is, of course, in the role of Luz. Rather than being a naive ray of sunshine from Connecticut, he’s a prickly, anxious, and socially awkward kid from Bournemouth who gets in trouble for his constant refrain of correcting the teacher, having no interest in the assignments, and his habit of reading during class. This eventually leads to him nearly getting sent to a camp for “troubled kids…” until his habit for wandering off and getting distracted by things that are out of the ordinary leads him to stumble in through a portal to the Boiling Isles. Once there, Jon is absolutely blown away by the wonder and horror of the world, and he finally finds something that he’s truly passionate about—though, time and time again, he’s told that he can’t do magic because he’s a human, and he gets very defensive about it. It takes him a while for his walls to come down.

Gerry: He’s Eda—a snarky, anti-establishment, laid-back criminal with a lot of trauma and a habit of unintentionally adopting kids. Instead of an Owl Beast curse, he has a Spider Beast curse, and is referred to as the “Web Witch” by the denizens of the Isles. Gerry was actually pretty happy pre-curse, mainly because his mother died before she could do a lot of real harm… but after getting cursed, everything came crashing down, culminating in Gerry accidentally blinding his father and running away to hide in the woods. Since then, he has a hard time really letting people in, and the fact that he’s a wanted criminal doesn’t help. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t regularly take in strays. (Also, the curse turns his hair black, but it’s naturally red. You’ll see why in a sec.)

Annabelle: She is a slightly more mature version of King—a spiderlike demon child that Gerry found and took in at a young age. Knowing full well that she’s adorable, she takes advantage of the fact that people think she’s sweet and naive to get what she wants, which leads to a lot of shenanigans in the first-season arc. As the story goes on, and she finally takes the push to learn more about her past, she starts learning how to be responsible and to be more honest with herself and others, though she never loses her talent for deception. She’s a curious and devious little kid.

Helen: She’s a Hooty equivalent. Just a sassy door being who helps keep the Web House in tip-top shape.

Agnes: She’s Lilith—Gerry’s older sister and the head of the Emperor’s Coven. Of course, Agnes being Agnes, she’s a lot less tightly wound than Lilith at first and is genuinely sweet and caring, just deeply misguided. She truly believes that Gerry joining the EC is the best option for him, and she’s always been tormented with guilt over cursing him. After leaving the coven, Agnes tries her hardest to make up for lost time, both with Gerry, Eric, and their great-aunt Gertrude, even if she really has no idea how to interact with people outside of being the polite and perfect role model. It’s a learning curve.

Basira: She takes the place of Willow, though her character development is less about being insecure and slowly gaining confidence and more about being stoic and apathetic and learning to express her emotions and fight for what she believes in. Basira has natural talent in both Beastkeeping and Plants, and while she initially thinks that switching to the Plant track would be better for her, she eventually decides to take both classes once it’s approved. She’s painfully logic-minded and has a lot of internal doubts about the coven system, though until she meets Jon and hears his casual breakdown of how valuing certain types of magic over others just doesn’t make sense, she doesn’t yet have the courage to voice it. On her end, Basira turns out to be just the friend that Jon needs—someone who believes in him, but isn’t afraid to tell him when he’s being an ass.

Georgie: She’s in Gus’s position, though instead of being a prodigy at Illusion magic, she’s a prodigy at Abominations magic… and is more than a little terrifying as a result. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a wonderful person, but her keen interest in both humans and in subsects of magic that are more than a little macabre can be a little off-putting to some, which is why Basira’s her only real friend at first. After their initial meeting, which consists of Georgie excitedly asking Jon for a blood sample and him being incredibly spooked by her amazement at meeting an actual human, the two end up getting along like a house on fire, and are basically enablers in each other’s chaos. Georgie’s family doesn’t have a lot of money or social standing in the Isles, so she works twice as hard in order to prove herself and get better opportunities. This leads to burnout. Frequently.

Melanie: She’s… okay, so, she’s Matt in that she’s a fellow member of Georgie’s human appreciation club and a new student at Hexside, though she and Georgie don’t really have a rivalry beyond friendly ribbing. However, she’s also Viney, in that she’s a member of the Detention track who helps kickstart multi-track studies. She and Jon don’t get along immediately, mostly due to the fact that he unintentionally ratted her out for studying both Oracle and Construction magic the first time they met, but the two form a begrudging alliance during a basilisk attack and later become actual friends. Melanie’s a sucker for drama and conflict, and she carries that with her—whether she’s in the Human Appreciation Society, the Flyer Derby team, or just hanging out with Georgie and the rest of the gang. She’s fun.

Martin: He’s Amity, in that he’s a depressed rich kid who’s severely isolated due to parental expectations. Due to his incredible talent at Illusions, a lot of kids end up coming to him when they need to cheat, though they never actually become friends with him due to everyone seeing him as a quiet weirdo who never had to work for anything. When Jon comes along, Martin is distrustful of anybody claiming to want to be his friend, and he doesn’t help things by accidentally demeaning Jon’s interest in magic—which, in Jon’s eyes, cements him as a rival. After a string of miscommunication and failed interactions, the two eventually reach a middle ground and become friends… which later leads into Martin developing a gigantic crush on Jon. Which is later reciprocated. Aside from the romantic drama, Martin learns to both become more open and to stand up for himself, becoming the kind yet bitchy individual we all know and love.

Tim & Danny: They’re Edric and Emira—Martin’s class-clown yet charming older brothers who love teasing their little brother and getting into general mischief. Tim’s the oldest, and he’s usually the one who shows a lot of actual worry towards Martin, though he’s still a very flashy individual and tends to do a lot of crazy things just for the hell of it. Danny, on the other hand, has some identity issues that stem from being a middle child who doesn’t quite know who he is outside of his family, and he tends to throw himself into something if he thinks it’ll make him stand out. They’re both illusionists, like Martin, and while Tim and Danny are biological brothers, all of them are adopted. (Also, Tim eventually starts taking Bard and Beastkeeping classes, while Danny starts taking Potions.)

Daisy: If my decision to make Basira Willow hasn’t tipped you off, Daisy is Hunter—the Golden Guard of the Emperor’s Coven, praised as a teen prodigy yet possesses no magical talent of her own. She’s loyal to the emperor and genuinely believes in everything she’s been taught, and she is absolutely horrible at expressing any emotion other than smugness or anger, believing fear and sentiment to be weaknesses and being deathly afraid of being perceived as anything other than strong. Daisy is a very vulnerable person underneath her hard exterior, and she can be incredibly soft with people she cares about… though, of course, she’s not given much opportunity to connect with anyone outside of the castle, or inside, for that matter. In the canon of TMA, Daisy is a truly fascinating character to me, and I knew that the only character she could feasibly be is Hunter—hey, person who did bad things for a cause they believed was just and had that illusion stripped from them, meet other person who did bad things for a cause they believed was just and had that illusion stripped from them. And they both love wolves. So, yeah, she’s a very traumatized child soldier who makes the gradual evolution into a protective big sister friend and a disaster lesbian.

Sasha: I had to make her Vee. I had to. Even if you take away the whole fact that she was NotThemed and how similar that is to the basilisks, the fact that she was almost made the Archivist makes her perfect for that role. Her general story is pretty much the same as in canon—she’s a basilisk who was created in a lab for the purpose of studying magic draining and ran away to the human realm, falling in love with it almost as soon as she arrived. Once in the human realm, Sasha develops a love for computers and manages to make friends with the people she meets at the camp (I’m not sure who they are yet, though I’m leaning towards making them Sam and Colin—Alice already has a role), and when she and Jon actually have a chance to meet, they almost immediately bond as siblings after the distrust and animosity is thrown out the window. Also, Sasha’s existence helps Jon finally fully connect with his grandmother, so… bonus!

Oliver: He’s Raine. As much as I love Doorkeay, I have a different role in mind for Micheal, and Oliver’s dynamic with Gerry as two gorgeous witchy goth men connected with The End is something that I’d love to see more of. Anyways, um… so, Oliver and Gerry’s story is pretty similar to canon—they met when they were in high school, were best friends from that point on, and eventually started dating, though they broke up due to Gerry being tight-lipped about the curse and Oliver eventually making the decision to join the Bard coven. Oliver didn’t start being a rebel leader right away, though, since he initially believed that the best way to fix things was by changing it from the inside, but after years of that not working, he finally caved and started the BATs. He’s very practiced at pretending that he’s just an unassuming workaholic, and he often claims stage fright in order to continue operating under the radar. Oliver’s a smart dude.

Trevor: He’s… well, he takes the position of Eberwolf as the Beastkeeping coven head, but he also acts as Darius for a lot of the story beats—mostly because he takes the role as Daisy’s actually decent paternal figure. Trevor comes off as an old grump who doesn’t like people or fun, and he’s seen many a Golden Guard die in his time as a head of a coven… so, when he sees Daisy be rebellious for the first time in her life, his wolf dad instincts kick in. Not quite sure where Julia fits in yet, but she’ll fit in. Somewhere.

Jane: Terra. She has to be Terra. Gross plant woman who pretends to be sweet but is actually psychotic. She’d definitely suggest turning children into mulch as an apt punishment for failing a small challenge.

Nikola: Same deal, she’s Adrian. She can’t be anyone else.

Peter: He’s in the position of Odalia—an antisocial yet jovial businessman who reeks of old money. He also deals in security and weaponry, though he primarily uses oracle magic instead of Abominations, and he’s very interested in studying the effects illusion magic has on the mind. Of course, he can’t actually practice illusion magic, so he has to turn to other avenues for research… such as adopting three gifted illusionists. Needless to say, Peter is not a good parent by any measure,  and he kind of holds the fact that he adopted his sons over their heads so they don’t step out of line. Unfortunately, the kiddos don’t have an Alador equivalent (as far as I’ve decided), so the only person they can really go to outside of each other is Peter. Not a good environment, really. And it’s definitely complicated by the reason why their dad has all this standing and power, beyond just the family connections…

Elias/Jonah: So, he is in Belos’s place as the emperor who’s secretly a human witch hunter, but his motivations aren’t the same. Rather than planning on killing witches simply because he hates magic, his intention is to drain the magic from them and take it for himself—well, for humans, but mostly himself. Elias is also a lot more… shall we say, lax about interacting with other witches, which is why he has zero qualms with having an on-again, off-again relationship with Peter Lukas. And several other men throughout his time on the Isles. Yeah, Philip may be too deep in a Puritanical mindset to claw his way out of Narnia and admit that he’s not straight, but Jonah is a harlot and that’s a part of his character that stays constant. I’m not gonna go into his backstory, for spoiler reasons, but I will say that Gwendolyn is a Caleb equivalent, and Alice is her Evelyn. I’m riding on the Dyhard train and you can’t stop me.

Micheal (Distortion): And last but not least, I couldn’t make our boy Micheal anybody other than The Collector! I know that technically, he and Helen are kind of the same character, but she just doesn’t have the silly vibes that he does. All I can really say is that his story is… well, it matches up with in canon, except he’s more of a preteen than a kid. We know so little about Collie’s past outside of the events that led them to be trapped, and what we know about Micheal himself—pre-Distortion, of course—is equally as murky and unclear, so… yeah. He’s a funky neon star kid who originally manifests as a funky shadow kid.

And yeah, I think that’s it for now.

#the owl house #the magnus archives #jon sims #gerry delano #gerry keay #annabelle cane #helen distortion #agnes montague #basira hussain #georgie barker #melanie king #martin blackwood #tim stoker #danny stoker #daisy tonner #sasha james #oliver banks #trevor herbert #jane prentiss #nikola orsinov #peter lukas #elias bouchard #jonah magnus #micheal distortion #tma owl house au #the web house

[pansyfemme]

ok my dash (mostly you) have convinced me to listen to the pastels. planning on running through their whole discography but in your personal opinion, top 10? ik youve probably already answered this sort of ask so no pressure B) <3

haha i will convice people to listen to the pastels til the day i die. The main thing to know is that they are a very, very varied band with a lot of distinct ‘eras’ of different types of sounds. Early pastels is very grungy, looser, a bit weirder and louder, and eventually they find their footing, slightly softer but more of a solid sound before becoming really sort of.. transcendental? that’s the best way i can describe the later stuff. and i am going to be honest, i love all of it equally! there really is not a bad (or even less than exceptional) pastels release imo. however i’m gonna start off by saying my personal favorite album is ‘sittin pretty’ which is not on most streaming platforms! but i do think it’s really wondeful as a peice. I’m just gonna throw out a handful of tracks i think are interesting for various reasons, in no particular order.

(though if you listen to one album, up for a bit is probably a good start, it’s wonderful and a good intro)

-Comin’ Through

this is the song that got me into the pastels, and my father before me! It’s like.. the gateway song. you hear it, you’ve never heard anything like it before and you need to hear more.

-Swerve

my personal favorite of the earlier/middle era! it’s loud, its chaotic, it’s fast, it has fucking eugene kelly featuring on it.. i loooove this song.

-Yoga

This is one of the songs that kind of hints towards where they would go later on but is a bit less calm? I love it a lot

-Worlds of Possibility

theres two versions of this one! an ep version and one on mobile safari. i reccomend you listen to the mobile safari version first, it’s more straightfoward, but both are exceptional.

-Thru Your Heart (Home recording)

This is an oddball, i’m reccomending it to kind of highlight the.. spiritual quality of the pastels? this is a really shoddy recording but it has a beauty i can’t really describe.

-Tokyo Glasgow

following that up, this is kind of similar as it is also a deeply deeply emotional track, it’s got this quality that just.. cuts you.

- Speeding Motorcyle 2

I’m listing this one and not their other speeding motorcycle cover, because this is specifically an instumental that just showcases how fucking insane they are with orchestral arangements, it’s a really moving instrumental that i really dig

-Nothing To Be Done

i can’t say that ‘this is the one people know’ because the pastels are not a band that is known wildly ouside of certain circles but nothing to be done is their most popular song and that is for a reason!!!

-Kicking Leaves

I post this one a lot. It makes me feel really warm, it’s sad but lovely.

- and for number 10.. i’m gonna cheat and give you two ‘kind of’ pastels tracks because there are soooo many pastels tracks and i also just feel like shouting out two really cool things.

1) Illumanati is an album of remixes of pastels songs, and it’s a…stacked list. i really love cornelius’ ‘windy hill’ remix but also if you’re a stereolab or my bloody valentine fan or really into 90’s indie at all you will recognize a name or two who did a remix

2) stephen pastel/stephen mcrobbie is alive and well to this day and one of his most recent projects was providing the soundtrack to a play called ‘this is memorial device’ that premiered at the edinburgh fringe fest a while ago. And the soundtrack to it is coming out soon with the first two tracks currently available to stream and they have already made me sob and i need to see that show so bad i might puke

but yes like by all means do a tour around their discography, it’s a decent amount of stuff but you can probably do it pretty stress free, it’s not a major project. I would just be mindful that some of their albums (including some of the most important ones) are not on all streaming platforms so take a look at their discography first as to not miss anything major!

i’m glad you’re interested in the pastels, they’re a band that genuinly has made me feel things no other form of art ever has been able to.

#you know how people would describe the beachboys as a ‘wall of sound’? #the pastels are kind of like that except the knowledge they have towards harmony taught them how to offset it #the vocals are often ‘sung against’ the melody- the songs sound beautiful the melodies are genuinly well done but care is taken to make #things sound off and disjointed. its a crazy balancing act

[oceanera12]

So, what do you think would happen if Nine went to other sonic verses?

Oh Anon, you do not know what you just unleashed.

KAY I'M A TRY AND KEEP THIS SHORT BUT NO PROMISES

(So many verses so little time, let's try and keep them in a semblance of a line. "Sonic verses" are varied in their definition. So I suppose we'll have to take some guesses in submission.)

(In other words, you weren't specific on what you meant by Sonic verses which means you have unleashed too many ideas at once).

RIGHT, LET'S START FROM THE BEGINNING:

Nine in Sonic SatAM would be absolutely terrifying because everyone would think he's some kind of time-traveled version of their Tails. Aka, they failed in the revolution and Tails turned into whoever this is. Nine would not care to correct them because why should he help some chipmunk princess and her entourage? He just wants to leave/get home, give him some power rings so he can get out of this universe that is much too similar to his with the whole Robotiziation thing going on. Nine is out of there and Tails is left praying he never turns into that weirdo.

Similar situation in Sonic Underground universe but since there is no Tails there, it's more like one of those random off-shoot episodes. They would meet Nine, fixing up his ship, at first fight him because they think he's an agent of Robotnik (the robot metal tails). Then Nine would most likely knock out the siblings, tie them up, and just let them sit there while he continued fixing his ship up. There would not be a lot of bonding it would be more of a, "Well, what are you up to?" "Fixing a ship." "Oh. We are trying to overthrow a tyrant." "Oh. Well, good luck with that." And then Nine lets them go and leaves or something, IDK

Archie Sonic Comics already have so many alternate zones that Nine showing up really wouldn't make anyone panic too much. HOWEVER--

Zonic would be trying to find where Nine is from and be very very confused when Nine is like, "Yeah, I'm from another another universe." Z: ???? *sends him to Sonic Prime because he has no idea what else to do and has a lot more issues to deal with (Scourge is one of them).*

So Sonic Prime and company (Nine: "You all exist here? Weird." *referring to SatAM*) help Nine with little trouble. Tails Prime tries to bond with his slightly older and less social self but it doesn't really go anywhere. Sonic Prime tries to figure out what happened to this version of Tails, but Nine is not really forthcoming so he gives up and they help him back into their ship.

Game Timeline (we'll say after Frontiers because why not?), Sonic is alone because all his friends went off to develop as characters (good for them!!!). So he's a bit concerned/terrified when Nine shows up because he hasn't seen or heard from his little brother in a few weeks.

Poor Sonic thinks Nine has amnesia or something and it takes multiple explanations to get it across that he is NOT Tails (also an actual phone call from Tails). Similar dynamic with Sonic Prime Sonic and this Sonic, only Nine knows that this Sonic is not even going to consider leaving with him because he has a Tails already. However, I do think Game Sonic would give Nine some kind of gift to remember him by (a screwdriver or wrench perhaps?) And Nine would be a little sad to leave but this place already has a him and he's seen enough worlds now to know that no world needs two of him.

Movie Sonic would be absolutely horrified by this duplicate little brother of his and drag the kid to Tom and Maddie and his Knuckles and his Tails in an absolute panic either claim the government is trying to clone them, shape-shifting aliens are invading, or evil versions of themselves are coming to kill them all.

Nine is not amused, yanks himself out of the Hedgehog's grip, climbs up the wall to the ceiling (Knuckles: AHHH! THE METAL TAILED DEMON CAN WALK ON WALLS!), and Nine just glares at them all while explaining he just needs to get to his ship, his name is Nine, not Evil Tails or Tails or Clone Tails, and he is from a different dimension and does not want to be here anymore than they want him here.

Yeah, Maddie and Tom adopt this child instantly as do Sonic and Tails (it takes Knuckles a bit to come around). They almost convince Nine to stay with them (Tails: We could be twins! It would be amazing!) But Nine is a stubborn boy and would sneak away in the night with only a note left behind.

Leaving that world is one of the only times Nine wishes he had his own family to go back to.

Sonic X (post Season 3) for fun let's say that Nine crashes outside of Eggman's base, is found by Shadow or Rouge, and is taken before the evil doctor. Nine is considerably annoyed at the turn of events and single-handedly hacks into Eggman's system, breaks out of his cell, makes the robots turn on Eggman so Shadow and Rouge are kept busy, activates the self-destruct sequence and then just nopes out of the dimension with a stolen power cell of some kind. (Sonic and Co in the distance: "Gee, Eggman must have messed up badly or something because his base just blew up and we didn't do it for once.)

Sonic Boom (TV series) would make Nine want to commit murder. He takes one look around and decides: no, he really doesn't want to deal with the insane Badger or the really really stupid Knuckles. So he does the smart thing and sneaks into Tails' workshop, jumps the kid, explains the situation, and Tails agrees to help him get home. Of course, shenanigans ensue and this turns into an episode of "Guys, Tails is hiding something from us. Let's try and figure out what!" With the incorrect conclusion being that Tails has decided to join Eggman or something and the crew break-in to fight him.

Nine comes back from a supply run (stealing things from Eggman) to find Tails tied up and under interrogation from his friends (Sonic is playing good cop while Amy is trying to be bad cop but Sticks keeps interrupting. Knuckles is holding the bright light in Tails face.)

Nine is not amused and ends up jumping all of them with Sticks screaming about EVIL CLONES HAVE COME TO REPLACE THEM ALL!!!

Tails jumps in and stops everyone from attacking, explains his alternate self, and Nine holds up that last piece he needs to fix his ship and leave.

So he does, with apologies to both Tails and Nine (minus Sticks because Sticks) and Nine leaves.

That is all I got at the moment but GOODNESS GRACIOUS--

#nine #tails #sonic prime nine #nine sonic prime #sonic prime #sonic satam #sonic underground #archie sonic #sonic x #sonic frontiers #sonic boom #movie sonic #sonic wachowski #crossover #anon ask #look what you've done #are your proud? #era answers #miles prower

[kirbyliker12]

What's ur full analysis on Susie

Ohoho….😏😏😏I suppose…..I’ll Unleash the Thoughts all at once😏😏😏😏😏normally you’d need more kirbyliker14EXP(exposure points) for it to be comprehensible but recommended levels are always wrong (this is the worst intro I have ever made

/ ⎝|˶ᗜ ᗜ|

Ok first of all to get That out of the way uhh the whole star Allies Susie desc got mistranslated(classic star allies!) basically it’s supposed to be like “helping other planets with technology” and the whole exterminate thing is supposed to be just crushing bad people okay are we clear did we get that good (also I’m gonna be putting my Suzy kaomoji between points because I Said So(It might act b me favorite ?? I’m reely happy w how it turned out 😙my magolor kaomoji ᴑ /₍⸌╷╷⸍₎\ ᴑ is close but I think it’s mostly bc I felt proud as hell after figuring out how to put the ears on one line)

/ ⎝|˶ᗜ ᗜ|

Ok first off her lore basically blah blah Suzy was Exposed To The Internet At A Young Age

Fun(?????????) fact😋 as it makes no sense for Max to have done those experiments with star dream with his only daughter in close proximity so it’s highly likely that Suzy disobeyed her fathers warnings and prohibition and technically caused her own disappearance (why am I mentioning dis??😏ermm aheu heu you’ll c)

Suzy returns after seeing the Horrors and now works for Max

Come to think of it idk if Suzy even knew of max’s real goal like ik the novel made it so he openly misses her but ?? The novel also made him live at the end so No Im not counting that data in my

Anyway blah blah Suzy feels resentment for max and how either A)simple minded his goal of “unlimited money” is or B) that he doesn’t even recognize her

Notably this is prevalent in the Japanese version as shown which means he intentionally tried to forget his feelings (in other words what makes a human=human) and then started forgetting them more after more usage but didn’t see a problem with it (why are the haltmanns Like That)

/ ⎝|˶ᗜ ᗜ|

Anyway time for the main story events

It’s been established that this is after Susie clawed her way out of hell(???) (before magolor made it cool) at like idk 11 years old so that’s slightly less impressive than the average Kirby adventure

Also that max has now lost abt 90% of his self (willingly??? Idk don’t ask me) and appears to focus entirely on money

Mr maxx pulls a questionable rant out at Kirby and tries to obliterate this 9 year olds entire world after losing a single battle but Suzy takes the helmet right after it touches his head(a tiny bit too late to enact the action?? A tiny bit too early???? Is this the worst outcome????Could he have survived and been reasoned with after defeat ???? I still don’t know STOP ASKING ME) and she enacts her famous line

She was so real for that she yippyd before it was cool oh anyway she then comes out(WOOOO GOOD FOR HER💥💥💥💥💥) as someone who’s been Against max all this time (in other words…disobeying her father…..😏😏😏I can’t believe Suzy made a Suzy reference)

However her calculated plan backfires and as the helmet touched his head but he didn’t have the helmet he gets 99% of his entire self destroyed and now the cold calculated machine decides to destroy the universe (erm…WHOOPS!😂😂😂 susie is so losercoded I can’t believe everyone calls her the Normal Person how do you screw up a plan this bad like seriously oh my god marx and magolor enacted their plan perfectly and taranza managed to technically bring the heros of the lower worlds to sectonia but Susie completely screwed up they should start calling her Losie)

However when learning of this susie doesn’t react in a normal way like there’s no sulking or sad face she gets up and immediately thinks of a plan to defeat star dream (giving Kirby the gimmick that notably cannot fly for very long without certain abilities and has quite short ranged attacks) then meta knight shows up n gives a much better plan by using his cool ship

As you can see her body language is all formal and cool and she’s all commanding and stuff (her autistic stare has captivated my soul) HOWEVER😏😏😏😏😂😏ohhh babyyyy I was dying after realizing this

As soon as they fly off screen susie immediately establishes a more desperate pose and language (in like. Every other version I think this is the American version even Europe got it better Suzy uses a formal name for Kirby instead of pinky)

In other words Suzy refuses to show her weakness in front of people(LOSIE THEORY CONFIRMED??????) then at the end she immediately leaves pop star instead of like lingering around to celebrate with Kirby like taranza did or the end of rtdl with Kirby’s chums (u can probably use ur imagination for the possible reasons she chooses to be alone😙😙😙)

/ ⎝|˶ᗜ ᗜ|

ok robobot events over wooo anyway I Wasnt Sure How To Title This

Robobot is known for having a similar lore story to Taranza where villian that dies actually lost their self prior to the events of the game and the villian who gets redeemed had a persona connection with them

When we later see Suzy in Allies she appears Completely Normal And Fine compared to taranza

However I really doubt that she’s just FINE I mean you saw during the cutscenes I bet offscreen she’s tormented by thinking abt what her dad could have been and how he ended up and how she caused his fate (ok I changed my mind I don’t want losie theory to be confirmed take it back)

Notably, she’s completely dedicated herself to max’s company even though she seemed to really dislike him at the end(she coulda just made a whole new company)is this her way of apologizing for destroying him ?? A way of making her dad proud ????? Where do these questions keep coming from

While taranza gets to openly grieve and dedicate some time to receiving closure Suzy does Not the whole thing abt planet robobot is constantly upgrading and improving and so on and GRIEF is COUNTER PRODUCTIVE (oouuhhhghgghh I feel like things obtained from evolution that are counterproductive to modern life could b soo interesting to explore with Suzy like uh adrenaline giving you paranoia and complex emotions such as guilt and embarrassment being a side effect of brains developing more)

/ ⎝|˶ᗜ ᗜ|🍦🍦🍦

No more “girlboss” Susie we’ve advanced to LOSIE susie now 👍👍👍👍👍👍

#kirbyliker12thoughts #susie haltmann #susanna patrya haltmann #susie kirby #ask #it’s..reely l8 here oh man DOUBLE WHAMMY

[coraniaid]

🔥Scooby Gang

Unpopular opinion ask game

(Better two months late than never?)

So … my slightly flippant answer is that I think “the Scooby Gang” is honestly not the best of names for the group of Buffy’s friends who know about her being the Slayer and help her out sometimes.  Partly because I think it’s a bit clunky to actually say it, but also because, well, try googling it.  Any group name where you have to specify the name of the source material is just a bit rubbish, I think.  

Also the reference itself doesn’t really work, does it?  The original Scooby Gang travels around the country, proving that supposed supernatural hauntings are actually hoaxes being carried out by mundane criminals and property owners, and they don’t really have an obvious leader.  The Buffyverse Scooby Gang … are all stuck in one place, the monsters they investigate are real, and they do have an obvious leader.

They should’ve stuck with Willow’s original suggestion of the Slayerettes.

A bit less flippantly … uh. I don’t think I have an unpopular take on the Scoobies as a collective, actually.  I mean, I think people who complain about them being bad friends or not really caring about Buffy are wrong – or at least viewing their actions in a deliberately uncharitable light in a way I don’t agree with – but at the same time I don’t think this is actually a majority opinion.  Or at least I curate my dash well enough that I see people arguing against it more often than I actually see the take itself.

So quick fire unpopular opinions about each of them, in no particular order, below the cut:

Jenny: I like Jenny a lot, but I kind of hate the retcon that she was sent to Sunnydale to spy on Angel and make sure he didn’t get his soul back.  Partly because of the jarringly racist way this retcon is presented and handled, partly because it’s so obviously nonsense (Jenny mentions Angel all of … what, once, before this retcon?) and partly because it ruins the much more interesting version of Jenny Calendar the technopagan with a life of her own that the show had implied existed before this.  And for what?  To deliver some exposition that the show could have presented dozens of other ways?  So that Giles and Jenny can break up again and Giles can be sad when she dies? 

Oz: I was genuinely surprised to see how well Oz did in the recent character polls because he is just kind of flat and boring to me.  He’s one of the more laid back people in the show, sure, and if he was a real person I think he would be fun to hang out and exchange terse monosyllables with, but he doesn’t really have any character arc to speak of until … well, whatever off-screen stuff actually happened that ended up with him getting written out in Season 4.

(I think there is a potentially interesting character to be made out of the fragments of Oz we see, but I don't think the show ever puts them together in a way that means anything.  He’s just Willow’s Nice Quirky Boyfriend, then he decides he needs to leave town and he’s gone forever.)

Cordelia: I like Cordelia, both on Buffy and on Angel, but she’s often really genuinely unpleasant in the early seasons of the show and it’s kind of grating when people pretend she isn’t?

I mean, I think I get why people talk about her the way they do (it’s partly that people are instinctively prone to like the character because of what Charisma Carpenter went through because of Joss Whedon; it’s partly because Cordelia gets a lot of character development and emotional growth and does become one of the most well-realized and heroic characters in the setting; and it’s partly because as early as Season 1's Welcome To The Hellmouth we are primed to sympathize with Cordelia because of the way Jesse acts around her).  Cordelia is always somewhat likable.  But she’s not nice.

When Cordelia bullies Willow for dressing badly or not having any friends, or when she brings up Xander’s abusive family or poverty in order to humiliate him in front of his friends, or when she ostracizes and shames Buffy for being different from everyone else (“I have to call everyone I have ever met, right now”), it’s not because she’s just a pure-hearted innocent who isn’t afraid to tell the truth.  It’s because she’s trying her best to be hurtful and being good at it.  It feels like it’s belittling the actual character growth she goes through to pretend that this isn’t what’s happening.

Tara:  Uh.  I don’t think I have any unpopular opinions about Tara.  Honestly I’m not even sure what unpopular opinions about Tara a person could have.  Tara’s great.

Okay, not an opinion about Tara herself as such, but I get kind of irked when people try to talk up Buffy/Faith by talking down Willow/Tara.  I mean people who complain about the latter being boring or being censored by the network.  (The latter take especially is weird, because however sanitized one thinks Willow and Tara’s relationship is, it’s a lot more textual and explicit than whatever Buffy and Faith have going on.)  

I don’t actually know how common that is outside of my dash, but I’ve seen it a few times and it just feels kind of tacky to me.  Sure, Willow and Tara have a different dynamic than Buffy and Faith, and it’s not quite as compelling from a narrative perspective to many people – including me! –  but they are nice.

Anya: I like Anya; I think she’s often poorly served by the narrative and I think her death is really stupid and unsatisfying but … well, I guess those aren’t unpopular opinions. 

I do think the frequent jokes about Anya being an ardent capitalist are kind of grating and don’t really make sense.  Anya isn’t some time traveler from The World Before Shops: she’s centuries old and clearly spent a lot of her time as a vengeance demon blending in with ordinary humans, as we see in Season 3's The Wish and then again in various flashbacks.  She shouldn’t suddenly be surprised by how the 20th century works, because she lived through it.  If she’s weirdly obsessed by capitalism (or what the Buffy writers think capitalism is), that should be an interest going back centuries.  She can’t possibly just have noticed it after becoming human. Her very first scene in the show, while she's still a demon, establishes she knows things about fashion and buying clothes! Well enough to impress Cordelia!

(Yeah, a lot of this is just that the Anya from Season 4 onwards isn’t really the same character as Anya from Season 3, I know.)

Giles: So it annoys me a little to realize this about myself, but the truth is that Giles is one of two characters in the show I’ve accepted that I like quite a lot less because of how the fandom at large talks about them.  I don’t particularly like being a contrarian, and I do still like Giles as a character, but I don’t like either flavor of Fandom Giles (either Giles the Perfect Dad or the Giles Who Is Compelled To Do Bad Things But Is Just So Sad About Them).

Whenever I see posts that focus exclusively on how tragic it is for Giles that he just had to drug Buffy and lie to her about it and almost get her killed, or how awful he must have felt when he abandoned her in Season 6, or how Jenny’s murder was so sad because of how it made Giles feel  I just think … okay, you’re not exactly wrong, but you wouldn’t talk about a character who does half the things Giles does in this way if they were a middle-aged woman.  And I know that for a fact because I’ve seen the way the fandom talks about Joyce Summers. 

Xander: I think the idea of Xander as a (very) repressed bisexual teenager makes a lot of sense of what we see from the character: things like his constant interest in how attractive Buffy’s boyfriends are and his repeated attempts to prove how “manly” he is.   It is a reading I believe is at least somewhat intentional, it is a reading that I like, and it is one that (combined with the hints we get about what his family are like over the course of the show) makes some of the way he behaves in the early seasons a lot more sympathetic.

However. I simply don’t believe there was ever any chance of the show having Xander actually come out.  I know that the official line is that one of Willow and Xander was always going to be gay, and that the decision as to which of them it was was made very late on, but I think that’s just a (fairly obvious) self-serving lie.

Look at how the show treats Larry – literally the only out gay man on the show in its whole seven seasons (except, maybe, Scott Hope).  Comes out in season 2, dead by the end of season 3, never once seen dating or expressing romantic or sexual attraction to another man, never mourned.  There are several other characters (Ethan Rayne and Andrew Wells being the obvious two) who are strongly implied to be attracted to men, sure, but this is always, aways played for laughs.  (Even Larry coming out is treated like a punchline.)

I think the chance of the writers having Xander ever start seriously dating other men (or even talking about finding them attractive in ways that couldn't be played off as a joke) was always basically zero and honestly it’s a little disingenuous to pretend otherwise.  The show is simply too mired in the period-typical homophobia of late 90s network television for things to be otherwise.

Willow: Sort of an inverse of the Oz take earlier: I was surprised by how badly Willow did in the recent character contests.  I think she’s pretty clearly the second-best written character in the show (just after Buffy herself).

That said, I guess my most unpopular Willow take is I think it’s kind of sad that she doesn’t go to a better college than Sunnydale U?  I think it is entirely in character that she would go to the same college as Buffy, and even that she would try to convince herself this wasn’t just because she was trying to help Buffy, but I still think it’s a mistake that she comes to regret.  If I were Willow’s friend in Season 3 – or, perhaps more to the point, one of her teachers – I would have tried pretty hard to talk her out of it. 

The show tries to present Willow’s decision to stay in Sunnydale as being an unquestionable positive, at least in Season 3’s Choices – and not just an excuse for Alyson Hannigan to stay on the show – but I’m not really convinced.  Okay, Willow doesn’t just want to help Buffy, but wants to “fight evil, help people” and “what better place?” is there to learn magic.  Let’s pretend to believe this is why she's staying in town.

The thing is though – as Season 4 makes clear – Sunnydale U is actually a terrible place to learn magic.  It’s only by luck that Willow meets even a single other witch, while off in England there are whole covens who would be delighted to teach her.  And the idea that fighting evil means staying in Sunnydale is a bit hard to defend too, given that this is the season of the show that establishes that there are other Hellmouths (in The Wish) and given that the season ends with Angel leaving town for LA to … uh, fight the forces of evil.  Which it turns out you can do pretty much anywhere.  Including, presumably, in places like Harvard or Oxford (where, in reality, there’s quite a lot of evil to be fought).

I don’t think this is an intentional reading of the show, but I do think you can see this choice as a sign of how little positive adult guidance there is in Willow’s life.  (We see just enough of her parents to know how neglectful they are.)   The show tells us that Giles wants Buffy to be able to go to Northwestern and get out of Sunnydale, but he doesn’t bat an eye at Willow turning down the chance to leave?  Other than Buffy, does Willow have anybody to discuss her choice with, even if she wanted to?

Yes, sure, in real life you don’t have to go to the “best” colleges just because you can and academic prestige isn’t the most important thing in the world and blah blah blah.  I agree!  And I know some people think this choice the show makes is empowering or inspiring.  But I think Willow personally would be happier somewhere where she was actually academically challenged, or somewhere she could actually be taught magic properly rather than illicitly teaching herself against the advice and wishes of her girlfriend and her ex-librarian.)

Again, I’m not saying the show should have had Willow leave.  I understand why they didn’t (even though part of me loves the idea of a spin-off Willow series where Willow goes to Oxford and the Bullingdon Club play the role of Wolfram & Hart).  But I’m not really on board with the popular idea that Willow going to the same second-rate college that Buffy is forced to settle for (and that Buffy gets to be sad about having to go to!) is actually a good thing.

#btvs #ask games #thanks!